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"insensate" poems
*** I see thine image through my tears to-night, And yet to-day I saw thee smiling. How Refer the cause?—Beloved, is it thou Or I, who makes me sad? The acolyte Amid the chanted joy and thankful rite May so fall flat, with pale insensate brow, On the altar-stair. I hear thy voice and vow, Perplexed, uncertain, since thou art out of sight, As he, in his swooning ears, the choir’s Amen. Beloved, dost thou love? or did I see all The glory as I dreamed, and fainted when Too vehement light dilated my ideal, For my soul’s eyes? Will that light come again, As now these tears come—falling hot and real?
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Sonnet 30 - I See Thine Image Through My Tears To-Night
Just beneath the road insensate, in the little creek that crawls through town, the rains brought him. Iron-blue, patient, slender, high sits his head – a lance, now raised – now half-tilt as he sights his prey – raised again as a drifting leaf disrupts his aim. Upstream he prowls, that his prey sees him not. He stalks with long, slow strides, his legs thin and graceful not to disturb the quiet current of the water and give himself away to senseless quarry. Few call him spindly, I imagine. Not I. By the shore, fish-bones, whole but for the flesh, sink into the mud. A thoughtless dart, a flash, a writhing beast falls still on his speartip. What am I, then, that he flies when I draw close?
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Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 10:20 PM UTC
Heron and I
Rue the unlettered nugatory inequity of insensate dishabille narcosis and the insouciant clandestine ravish perverse of durance's constraint. AUSTRALIAS CODE GREY IS A HUMAN RIGHTS VIOLATION. MENTAL HEALTH ARE RAPISTS. PUT AN END TO FORCED INJECTIONS AND THE UNCONSCIOUS UNCONSENTING SEXPLOITATION OF THE MENTALLY ILL!!!!. NO FUNDING FOR MENTAL HEALTH AND THEIR ****** REGIME!!! MENTAL HEALTH LAWS ARE MENTALLY ILL!!! ''the pride of women will never be laid in the dust"- Gaelic Proverb. MENTAL HEALTH ARE RAPISTS. LYING ******* ****** DOGS!!! SAY NO TO BUTTOCKS INJECTIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 11:53 PM UTC
Mental Health Doff.
I am not familiar with your toothbrush, not acquainted with it, have no experience of it, am unaware even of its colour. I know that a toothbrush is an inanimate object. It cannot feel, cannot enjoy the closeness, as it massages every surface of your teeth, sliding in and out between your lips, caressing your tongue, moving across the inside of your cheeks. It takes no pride in performing its morning duty for you, no pleasure in your gratitude for the freshness it gives you. It would be ridiculous, surely, to be envious of that lifeless, insensate, ultimately disposable thing. And yet …. …. and yet I cannot totally eliminate the feeling as I imagine your toothbrush in its daily moment of intimacy with you.
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May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 12:17 PM UTC
Your Toothbrush *
I resonate Smiling down from my room Expectations kills reality Just as reality kills fantasies Are they my friends ? I see the enemy in front of me He is fearful and he is mocking me Whispers and looks Dishonest insects trying to be the center of attention in the room I am aware of them Their masks and uniforms Their scent and their many forms It is easy to be seduced But not anymore I will not be used There are still many shapes for me to become Wisdom is the opposite of freedom I see the enemy in front of me He is laughing and he is looking at me I want to end this but he is not letting me I see the enemy in front of me Suddenly everything is clearer I am looking at myself in the mirror I can't feel anything But i resonate Words Of Harfouchism
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Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 2:03 PM UTC
Insensate
Tiny clumps of hair Once caramel in color Crumbles beneath the lowest Lair of pallid Trampled dust. A lump in the back of my throat Rises as the bone shows. Our teeth have clanked Collided in battle, our hooves Finger-less and delving, we were Ambiguously a hiatus in the water-color Sticky like honey whilst Satan licks up my spine. Burning sweet like the water that runs from the Nile Into the mouths of every little insensate frame and comatose sky Lacklustre pallor only children could buy.
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Jan 1, 2013
Jan 1, 2013 at 11:17 PM UTC
Taxidermy
Three years she grew in sun and shower; Then Nature said, ‘A lovelier flower On earth was never sown; This child I to myself will take; She shall be mine, and I will make A lady of my own. “Myself will to my darling be Both law and impulse: and with me The girl, in rock and plain, In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, Shall feel an overseeing power To kindle or restrain. ‘She shall be sportive as the fawn That wild with glee across the lawn Or up the mountain springs; And hers shall be the breathing balm, And hers the silence and the calm Of mute insensate things. ‘The floating clouds their state shall lend To her; for her the willow bend; Nor shall she fail to see Even in the motions of the storm Grace that shall mould the maiden’s form By silent sympathy. ‘The stars of midnight shall be dear To her; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face. ‘And vital feelings of delight Shall rear her form to stately height, Her ****** ***** swell; Such thoughts to Lucy I will give While she and I together live Here in this happy dell.’ Thus Nature spake—The work was done— How soon my Lucy’s race was run! She died, and left to me This heath, this calm, and quiet scene; The memory of what has been, And never more will be.
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Lucy IV
*..and I drop the small pebbles of my notes in cursive, words are writ of the silent-things I never utter in the frown-of-day on the surface of the lake* 1. soft touches from the fingers of a southern wind offers some surprise in the falling orange-orbs in the sky come tumbling down from the shaking sky there's no time to run - - keep still, oh keep still closer they come and yet closer, they whizz by close your eyes, they will pass they will come, yes but they will pass close your eyes 2. have no fear we are here you've seen it and it took you a while to understand (we've been told to expect you) 3. when she said the things with shaky-hand on your lake it was right there.. beneath the surface, half a ripple away she did not know you could have put out your hand, even fingertips to touch you never did.. so, she never knew didn't delve on you kept silent (as you are now) 4. how do you know the pines trees did not whistle sighs at your temerity to keep silent.. or were you rendered almost insensate? and surprise..above it all, the eagle flew.. saw concrete patterns on the ground but couldn't speak it swooped down low and flapped on bold, so loud and the surface of the forest-floor went crunch beneath.. approaching-steps *but how could anyone know when brilliance lay right there.. half-frozen below the surface of beginnings a mere fraction away from you..* S T - 17 feb 2014
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Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 1:35 PM UTC
surface of beginnings
Laying as a foetus Insensate Transform with rigor Punctuate in loss Ballad of fate As a marionette Automata Permuting ones ego Rote in distraction Panacea we chase Venerable Peculiar transition Scrupulous mind Chromatically alive
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Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 2:26 PM UTC
Imparting Naught
Three years she grew in sun and shower, Then Nature said, “A lovelier flower On earth was never sown; This Child I to myself will take; She shall be mine, and I will make A Lady of my own. “Myself will to my darling be Both law and impulse: and with me The Girl, in rock and plain, In earth and heaven, in glade and bower, Shall feel an overseeing power To kindle or restrain. “She shall be sportive as the fawn That wild with glee across the lawn Or up the mountain springs; And hers shall be the breathing balm, And hers the silence and the calm Of mute insensate things. “The floating clouds their state shall lend To her; for her the willow bend; Nor shall she fail to see Even in the motions of the Storm Grace that shall mould the Maiden’s form By silent sympathy. “The stars of midnight shall be dear To her; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face. “And vital feelings of delight Shall rear her form to stately height, Her ****** ***** swell; Such thoughts to Lucy I will give While she and I together live Here in this happy dell.” Thus Nature spake—The work was done— How soon my Lucy’s race was run! She died, and left to me This heath, this calm and quiet scene; The memory of what has been, And never more will be.
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Three Years She Grew
She asks why I don't speak of it. I will not. It is a lake of blood of flesh and bones and limbs and stink. I fear to sink but will not let go. I am as one with it. there is no me. So I must guard its dam, stop any leaks, for a breach would drown us both, leave nothing but acid bog, infertile, insensate. She seeks to cure me, to 'get it off my chest'. There's no rest. The pressure builds and I need ale to stem the pains and blames she cannot share.
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Jan 2, 2016
Jan 2, 2016 at 2:01 PM UTC
Shell Shocked
You know as well as I do that internet dating can have its ups and downs and thus, after so many futile meetings and tragic misadventures in a domestic UK situation, I decided to spread my wings and so I logged on to an Australian website for lonely kangaroo lovers yes it was www.blackstump-legover.com.au where no holes were barred. And I soon struck up a promising friendship with someone who sounded like a real goer, a total slapper, with no morals whatsover judging from the photo she posted taken with a mobile phone up her skirt which showed her **muffin ***** as well as what she had eaten for breakfast yesterday, poking its head out. We finally agreed to meet behind the old dunny in the park where the abos go to exchange their social security vouchers for crack ******* or a bottle of Castlemain XXXX or a quick one up each others' bots in spite of the pong on a sunny arvo. You can imagine how effing disappointed I was when she arrived on a trailer attached to her grandson's ute strapped to a battered gurney (and almost insensate) but still ready for a bit of backdoor action but not from me, no sirree, thank you very much mate: I might be desperate, but I would have had to have clipped my nose shut with a clothes peg to get anywhere near her and my gag reflex simply couldn't cope. So I bravely dragged the gurney over to the convenient gap in the fence overlooking the mighty ravine and with a gentle shove I sent her to that sweet place where peace can be found and I can still hear her scream as she bounced off the rocks accusing me of being illegitimate before silence reigned and I smiled in joy. It only goes to show, O my friends, that there are female dogs of the most hideous kind on every sodding continent on this dear planet of ours; and I may as well stick to a handful of Nivea cream and a Kleenex, at least the odour is wholesome.
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Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 11:32 AM UTC
A Tragic Intercontinental Internet Dating ******
You know as well as I do that internet dating can have its ups and downs and thus, after so many futile meetings and tragic misadventures in a domestic UK situation, I decided to spread my wings and so I logged on to an Australian website for lonely kangaroo lovers yes it was www.blackstump-legover.com.au where no holes were barred. And I soon struck up a promising friendship with someone who sounded like a real goer, a total slapper, with no morals whatsover judging from the photo she posted taken with a mobile phone up her skirt which showed her **muffin ***** as well as what she had eaten for breakfast yesterday, poking its head out. We finally agreed to meet behind the old dunny in the park where the abos go to exchange their social security vouchers for crack ******* or a bottle of Castlemain XXXX or a quick one up each others' bots in spite of the pong on a sunny arvo. You can imagine how effing disappointed I was when she arrived on a trailer attached to her grandson's ute strapped to a battered gurney (and almost insensate) but still ready for a bit of backdoor action but not from me, no sirree, thank you very much mate: I might be desperate, but I would have had to have clipped my nose shut with a clothes peg to get anywhere near her and my gag reflex simply couldn't cope. So I bravely dragged the gurney over to the convenient gap in the fence overlooking the mighty ravine and with a gentle shove I sent her to that sweet place where peace can be found and I can still hear her scream as she bounced off the rocks accusing me of being illegitimate before silence reigned and I smiled in joy. It only goes to show, O my friends, that there are female dogs of the most hideous kind on every sodding continent on this dear planet of ours; and I may as well stick to a handful of Nivea cream and a Kleenex, at least the odour is wholesome.
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Let me make your life easy Now that you making so many efforts To end mine Guns, Pistols, Bombs and your own body So considerate , so kind. So let me help, Let me whet my trepidation Lacerate my flesh, from inside Let me batter my silly quivering, numb Let me assure them ,they will be insensate It is only a matter of time. Meanwhile, Tell me how would you like it? Mere flesh soaked in ****** quagmire Silent in death , heeding to you instruction manual Or Crisp shrills rising in cacophonous notes Reciting curses in quandaries, jabbing your fiend inside Or should i use my imaginations On 'how to ruin my own life?' So behold and hold My veins from the end And haul towards your side, Twist to cause added agony Or may be crush my lungs To hasten me out of my life See my insipid blood splatter As it draws tattoos of attainment on you Hear it gurgle As you guzzle it out of my body, as if some wine Nevertheless, It won't evoke any poignant feeling Even if you realize in the end You and i are same kind. So drown me deep, so deep in the pool which is red Sorry again,if you were expecting blue,yellow,green or may be white Descend me twice the force If i brawl or condemn against your peace of mind Hear the music of my diminishing gasps till the end And move on , tattooed and vindicated. -Pallavi Goswami
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Jun 30, 2016
Jun 30, 2016 at 8:09 AM UTC
Sink Mankind Sink
H e is fused and used by lust and longing, A nointed with insensate stains of scarlet sin— M aking nations—, boring bleeding pits belonging M ore to demons than progressive nails that dwell in E very aspiration of the affluence loving kings and R ulers, who in due course find that they’d been S tripped of scruples as he led their hands.
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Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 6:19 AM UTC
Hammers
my joy has found comfort in its own routine it has a smartphone, a tablet and an email address mornings, it drives to work then smiles at the computer all day long evenings, it returns the smile to the freezer and goes walking in the neighbourhood avoiding droppings left by reverent dogs it stays awake nights muttering - it argues math and logic, yet comes to no conclusion it drinks heavily at the Ferret and Firkin, falls down insensate it awakens at 2:30 a.m. creates websites for non-profit organizations, registers email addresses at hotmail and yahoo just to read the spam that joy which hummed and gambolled inside of me (exploring and lighting candles in each delicious undiscovered corner) now hides in its cave rocking itself my joy is considering a name change by bonaventure saptel
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Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 11:29 AM UTC
[email protected]
I do not know if it was the guarding beam Of a lighthouse, roving 'cross my prow, Or the glimmer of a mermaid's eye, Or just the glancing of moonlight. I do not know what flashed in the night As I tended my nets blindly, Only that for a moment I saw Something all enmeshed and shining, And it broke free. I do not think I could've caught it Or kept it even if I did (It was too precious to sell or eat). Still I will stay and tend my nets Where silver fish are known to leap And vanish. If it was a lighthouse beam I shall know soon when it comes around - A mermaid I should know by the sound Of song (which I do not percieve), And if it was the uncatchable moonlight Winking at my swaying ship Then I will sit and watch it dance for me - Always reaching and just out of reach - Until necessity nags me back onto the beach. I will return each night to fish and gaze, Envious of the water so kissed with light And the insensate sands that glimmer White, stupidly unaware of sight. Yet it is not my place to say what sand should think, Nor water, nor fish, nor the imploring moon. I cannot touch the improbably distant stars, But I will stand with my hands stretched up As far as they can go, even if it is futile. Perhaps one will reach down.
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Jul 1, 2011
Jul 1, 2011 at 9:51 AM UTC
The Fisherman's Love Song
Now let me tell you what happened next, The bold the feeble, Went with the dead, Down went the rich, The poor and The worthless, The useless and The innocent, I was doing it, No it can't be me, I took lives, With tears of glee, Happiness is what filled my face, My mouth kept moving, And my mind insensate, Insensible acts, Proved my desires, Divine were those and those didn't tire, shattered blessings, Built up curses, Collected bad dreams, With songs and verses, They wrote my stories, Earned the fame, Forget themselves Became my tamed, With fiery eyes Heart of a master, I stabbed her hard With a daring laughter, smirks and anger My guiding angels, my misguiding devils, Made it stranger, Misjudging me, is your mistake, Cause I was awake On my bed, When you were in your dreams, Far away, I was the bad man You met in your way, your dreams feed me, Your smile kills, But what suits you best Are the smoking chills, Give me life Rather death, I am,I was A living hell, I will take you to my nest, Let's just say, Yesterday, I was possesed..
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Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 2:16 PM UTC
Unknown(part-II)
I have fancied myself to be a china doll Alone on a shelf, And waiting for some caring hand To open my eyes and clean my dress - But this at best is merely fancy And at worst passes into pain. I was not made to sit lonely With my brain. Nor am I patient. To stall with no hope of restarting Is an unbearable weight, and waiting With such vague notions of the someday-to-be Is a foolish self-inflicted fate. Oh patience, you unremarkable trait. You have no care when even-handed Fate Valiantly bestows opportunity. You sit unmoving and insensate, And merely wait and wait and wait For Time's inexorable pendulum to swing And the boredom of an afternoon to bring Some visitor's hands, and perhaps some care. (Though not too much, a doll's only a plaything.) So no, I am no china doll rejecting - Stupidly - the passing glances Of strangers given to wild dances And children given to clumsy hands, No, I am no longer a fragile waiting dream Hoping to visit some loving mind And fulfill myself in a single eve, Only to trickle the rest of my nights As a empty-laughing lifeless little stream. Enough of this! I move, I leap, I sit no more. What lay on the mantle lay now on the floor. (And perchance the fall has cracked my face Warding away some unforeseen gentle embrace But) I shall find my own way into some arms, Into some wild dance. My partner will see these cracks and be Far less afraid to drop me, throw me, Lift me high and let me fall, (So I may see the world around me And - electrified at the sight - Thank myself for wanting more) Than a china doll (Could ever have hoped for.)
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Apr 3, 2012
Apr 3, 2012 at 10:08 PM UTC
If Patience is a Virtue, Give Me Sin
I have fancied myself to be a china doll Alone on a shelf, And waiting for some caring hand To open my eyes and clean my dress - But this at best is merely fancy And at worst passes into pain. I was not made to sit lonely With my brain. Nor am I patient. To stall with no hope of restarting Is an unbearable weight, and waiting With such vague notions of the someday-to-be Is a foolish self-inflicted fate. Oh patience, you unremarkable trait. You have no care when even-handed Fate Valiantly bestows opportunity. You sit unmoving and insensate, And merely wait and wait and wait For Time's inexorable pendulum to swing And the boredom of an afternoon to bring Some visitor's hands, and perhaps some care. (Though not too much, a doll's only a plaything.) So no, I am no china doll rejecting - Stupidly - the passing glances Of strangers given to wild dances And children given to clumsy hands, No, I am no longer a fragile waiting dream Hoping to visit some loving mind And fulfill myself in a single eve, Only to trickle the rest of my nights As a empty-laughing lifeless little stream. Enough of this! I move, I leap, I sit no more. What lay on the mantle lay now on the floor. (And perchance the fall has cracked my face Warding away some unforeseen gentle embrace But) I shall find my own way into some arms, Into some wild dance. My partner will see these cracks and be Far less afraid to drop me, throw me, Lift me high and let me fall, (So I may see the world around me And - electrified at the sight - Thank myself for wanting more) Than a china doll (Could ever have hoped for.)
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Running as fast as I can to a familiar place. Stucco walled buildings surround me. I keep to the street, I know this street. Three feet down there is a crack next to a dandelion I refuse to make a wish upon. Street light after street light, 5 minutes turns to 3 and my footsteps are silent and unmovable. And in this moment exhausted, exhilarated, and exposed, I stand. There are many moments like this. Strident silence is my mistress now and in our affair, there is solace. Running as fast as I can to an unfamiliar place. Barren dessert hills surround me. Shrubs, pebbles, boulders and dirt. I expel disinterest onto these foreign trails and watch as it soaks the ground with apathy. Dull greens turn to offset browns, crippling reds and insensate charred black. And in this moment, isolated, desolate and infinitely free, I stand. She will always be here, there, tomorrow and now. Comforting me with her deafening screams, I found acceptance for what I can not control. So I run to her
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Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 7:02 PM UTC
Untitled
On the watchtower she stood. ***** Arms reaching to the sorry sky. The sorry sky that cried. Flowing hair tussled by the storm winds. She's watching out. As a sentinel she's guarding her heart from further pain. A mariner creature she was. Sailed on love's stormy seas. Now washed up on the shore. After being dashed upon sharp rocks. Just once. Once was enough. She is soft. Tender, no iota of tough. She adored him. She swears her love won't melt. She will never love again. Her heart is stone. Protected. For unholy pain, damaged her love beyond relief. Where only angels fear to tread. Only there, This lady's love will leave it's head. And there forever, her brazen head shall lay. Wanting nothing more than lust. Her heart tho made of stone. Now smashed into smithereens of dust. Broken, shattered all illusions. That solitary witch. Insensate as only true love lost! By ladylivvi1 © 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
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Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 7:43 AM UTC
Waiting!
rigor eros braids our fingers together sealing our hands, palm crushed to palm inhaling your breath as you exhale mine ravenous eyes devour all before them rhapsody reverberates from hearts and walls never ending thirst drives us always on draining the sweet, deep red cup of libido with fever induced voluptuous draughts driven beyond the delirium of voracity we ricochet off boundaries of carnality lungs heated to ignition by bodies racing to keep pace with limitless appetence minds consumed by hearts desire insensate to wounded and broken flesh love’s voice shouts in deafening collision time coils around consummation’s aura seeking us we are hidden between a kiss and apogee unchained from the somatic world locked together in amaranthine embrace ecstasy overwhelms mortality
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Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 12:11 PM UTC
Insatiable
Someone looked into my heart As if I spoke my mind through him Someone touched my hand and felt Beyond insensate gloves of skin Someone looked behind my face His recognition crystalline Someone looked into my heart Someone noticed me within
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Apr 5, 2025
Apr 5, 2025 at 1:45 PM UTC
Someone looked into my heart
if luck exists then so does fate no choice in who you love and hate and what is now a moment too late to fulfill the wish to be insensate
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Oct 15, 2009
Oct 15, 2009 at 3:52 AM UTC
i already feel
at the tip of cloudy fingers on our sky's hand lies a rainbow insensate like a mortal band basking in its own glory does the image fade in the steps of own reflection beauties of world fade
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Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 5:31 PM UTC
mortal rainbow
How pure and honest all things human Which drift so heavenly when untouched; They coat our eyes and dull our words They should, forever remain unclutched By human hands which hurt and **** By ropes of sadness and of glee And studious eyes of all things mortal, Who should learn to bear and let it be. But what of life if not things human, What of anything without it all, Why shall I remain insensate Let senseless sorrow inside me grow? Endure the heavens and the hells Grant your darling make you a fool, Become accustomed to the hurt For misery is a party, and love a funeral.
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Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 4:38 PM UTC
The Purity of All Things Human