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Julian Jul 2020
A key feature of invigoration is the enterprise of mapping the entire syntax of all relevant human language as measured by the gamut of applesauce that doesn’t sour and an in depth analysis of creative fiction and poetry for common cadence features in the linguistic enterprise of mapping the subroutines of complex articulation as etched by the fabric of genius intellects intertwined in a gamble with wits to try and create coded missives that entangle hypertrophy and enlarge the gamut of decryption in the universal rudiments of alchemy. This is based on depreciative and appreciative aspects of apperception that depend on visual cues and funding from a collaborative venture of universities to challenge people to zero-sum games or net positive games where teams collaborate to usher unconventional unchartered territory of classification beyond normal proclivities based on the lineaments of idiosyncrasy to pinpoint the provenance of ideation itself and unveil the mind at a bargain pittance for the eventual headway this could pave for the Department of Education to revert from froward to forward in their recalcitrance and insouciance with the current linguistic modalities of outstretched engraven hortoriginality trailblazing new modular seismotic waves and hotbeds for firebrands to debate and scholars to joust with in the jest of the cineaste metaphor and the rubricated rundles of rectiserial innovations in the taxonomy of devolved meaning relying on an inventive enterprise to galvanize a new jargon into prominence based primarily on guarded secrets of the trade that might unlock the primordial soup of verbal creativity while also probing detective apperception for a wide-ranging panoply of digested movies and beyond that a farsighted incumbent inclination to probe the calibration of numerical happenstance in estimate and in long-term theorization of taxed realty in the estate of guarded tegular relationships among the woven fabric of conceptual latticeworks pioneering in scope and analyzed rigorously in reward of discretion and furtive cryptology to untether the world from the apothegms of sloganeered piggybacks that swivel in sockets but enforce a reductive paradigm of obganiation of core themes reiterated hypnotically to traindeque entire generations into piebald thinking that overlooks the panorama for incident and incident for categorical generality when no such axiom can be the logical predicate of its antecedent conditions that spurn the traditional rote moot wernaggles of futility and inseminate crafty legerdemain of writhing contortion altering the specificity of revalorized meaning in the novel context. This instantiates that the consequence is always the consequence not only of its predicate but its successor by the very modalities of proven reversals and enantiodromias of sorts that revert in a reverse progression spatiotemporally to exact incident as antecedent of its own existence by the very fact of iteration and this map of the recursive cycles of consequences elapsed only because of their insertion in a predevoted matrix is the gnomic apothegm of a new frontier of advanced logic that assumes the impossible is only improbable if the possible can be proven impossible by reductive inversion of core precepts in the rigmarole of design that states for every orchestra of butterflies that echo is actually the incident of refraction that contaminated the first polyacoustic trace of amplified sources in space time to revert into primordial form but the reversion is only incurred upon the fixture of origination and beyond that point remains inscrutable because foreknowledge necessarily prevents accuracy in determining the spectrum of the cacophony or rhapsody of the echo dependent on the observer’s perspective: which is only fungible to the extent that the subliminal remains guarded by the protectors of the clepsammia and the recensed polarization of time. This transcendence of time transfixed on orbital gravitas and centripetal ****** initiates a promulgation of the swallock of a remanded entropy that works in swiveled contraposition to the dynamic flux of the internment of balkanized forces of demassification dampening the efficacy of the central butterfly actor to expand the ampitheater of its own audience to the extent that every cultural artifact can be mapped to the geotaxis of its conceptual orbit. Thereby we can prove that pivots of the obvious focal point peak in resurgence upon the heyday of retrieval but dampen into a logarithmic regression of decreasing amplitude fluctuating around the aleatory probability of insemination through the percolation of the widespread narrowed to a fulcrum that balances the orbit of the stellified narrative of ingemination that some artifacts like Stayin’ Alive achieve maximum geotaxis because of their centrality in the taxidermies of revived memory recapitulated by both virtuosity and valor and posing as consequences of future foresight clouded by preventive measures that one quaky spasm in alarm could paralyze the precedent to the incidence of the afflatus that galvanized the heyday of remonstrance so that we can affix a modular angular gravity to events as well as referents to those events in a spatiotemporal mapping of consequence reverted upon itself because of necessity that binds the taxemes of the subliminal in the architecture of a curvature of geotaxis that is centrobaric not necessarily to the contingencies that magnify the germane propositions that affix modern eyes but rather the overall stifling modularity of temporal sequence redoubled by manufacture and manufacture alone predevotes antecedents that trace to a pivot in space time curved without prescience beyond measure but precision enough to approximate the summation of collective cultural shifts away from the estrangement of diversion from itself as a balkanizing force into a collectivized unity that orbits eccentrically by the very nature of the parallax between gravitational pull and the dynamics of time itself centripetal but centrifugal simultaneously.  Both conditions must be met so the converse of meaning becomes the recapitulation of remontant blessings rather than pruned dry garbologies relevant only to margins of subculture minimized in heyday and scope but pinpointed with exact precision the dynamos that inhabit the sphere of the populated future defenestrated from the magnetism of the past by very definition. Thereby, we arrive at Back to the Future because the paradox of recensed calibration suggests the free fluctuation of time between the eccentricity of magnified lens distorted by the entropy of calculus to become the integral summation of the sinuous vacuum of a trigonometric balance that barks with amplification of synergistic elements of strings and quantum flux to emigrate from an origination to the mapping of the eventuality. This precisely explains the scene in Back to the Future with the amplifiers turned all the way up because by exaggerating the simplicity of the declassified it expedited cinema to its eventual intermediary conclusions heralded by that one event of transfixed mystery that binds spacetime into a coherent bidirection of multidimensional philosophy of the enantiodromias of sorts of the parallax among constellated events. Mapping the impact of funneled cartels that hegemonize regions of the geopolitical sphere explains the amplivagant effects of the refracturism of swallock and thereby seminal ideations can be traced to provenance of cowardice cloaked in excuse but incisive in the skullduggery of the mechanical reinvention of excuse and pretext as a cloak for more furtive workings of the intelligentsia to engineer time by deriving the precise tangential multidimensional syntax of the calculus of proliferation reviewed from a consequent perspective of a future unknowable gravitas fluctuating between states of annihilation and existence in the acatelpsy of design so that specters actually enforce more change than events and prospects magnify positive dimensional thrusts that galvanize prospectus emigrating from either distant knowns or parallel realities that converge on the optimum of either the hapless or calculated design of a synergistic development of social engineering so precisely mapped that it identifies trajectories of improbable events with increasing specificity at the alarm of the spectral realm promulgating wealth to the foreseeable compunction of science to revert to probable pivots of consensus manufactured by think tanks that outfox the syntalities that defy the system or piggyback on their very causes to empirically carve the spectrum of future possibility becoming entelechy desired or feared but always predestined or flanged into distortions of reification that are transformative of precision in design without exactitude in the terminus of the centrobaric chambers of all meaning. Thus the algorithm outsmarts itself until only the machination to dehumanize for prediction occurs at a pessimum of morality or an explosion of a proliferative new venture in unchartered territory conquers the novantique of novelty. The ampitheater of its own audience is the traction of embedded subculture in subroutine becoming a compound atocia that sterilizes opponent possibility and probabilizes the occurrence of endomorphs that resemble effigies of constellation primed to swivel in retrospection as a recurrent lapse of amplification upon the culmination of predestined time points or junctures specified within the realm of the matrix of possibilities to outstretch the realm into a dampened exponential explosion of self-reference becoming embedded consequence by conditioning and by anticipatory psychology working in preconcert to evoke the determinative impetus of momentum that magnifies the speed of acceleration in technology that depends on the propriety of reification itself that swarms us with evocative tempests that barnstorm in reiteration to recapitulate by design to engrave themselves on the collective psyches of the hortoriginality of many minds intrepid before me that transfigured reality in this precise contortion of terminology with variegations in the specificity of context and articulation of the clavigerous entropy of swallock and how the outfoxed design becomes that cage of destiny that is a baritone complexion of vibrant hues exploding into the trammeled paths that have elapsed before me by the first movers advantage of theoretical physics but nonetheless independently verified by dovetailed emergence of that centralized balance between design and destiny that is precedent to the antecedent of the consequence of the precedent’s consequence on the direct antecedent inflexion point upon which the provenance of momentum drifted into cultural psyche and enlarged the gamut of myth in the raillery of subaudition. Essentially Time only exists to those without the simultagnosia to appease a mirror parallax of universes upcoming and universes forestalled but pivot with omphalism on the gravitas of Einsteinian calculus that theorizes that the acatelpsy of enumerated prediction is a lapsed regress the pinpoints with the harpricks of specialization the regal momentum of time to its own behest to propagate the elucidated certainty of its own traversal to the expedited enumeration of the future which populates the past because the curvature of time is an entantiodromia of reflexive itinerant vagrancies that cement the authorship of events to warble through the tilted hypertrophy of design itself to maximize the freebooter avarice of those people that rely on the luxuriance of trespass to magnify the modular gravity of culture to forswink its compunction and regale its own recursive logic. Essentially Time is a mapped ampitheater that depends on an audience of sentience to enlarge its own gamut and because it is riddled with obscurantism of believable recursion it magnifies its own entropy in reversal to orchestrate events in a rectiserial convolution of the whipsaw between the expected and the foreknowledge of the knowing class because when shaky vacillatory politics prevail the behest of time looses its capitalization of the amplivagant affects of the marginalia that is wed to the devolved rudimentary rigmarole of proliferation scaffolds destiny in alternative configurations to fulminate with explosive progeny that latitude incumbent to those without perspicuous clarity to fathom the acatalepsy of the unfurled universe magnetized by the seminal tremendum of the moments memorialized by memory that provide the traction of time to supersede its own acceleration by the writ of the beneficence of the eccentric orbit of the brittle axioms of design to recense and revalorize the wilted transponders that refer to specific events where the space-time continuum was cleaved in divisive anticipation to balkanize the resistence to the fringe clavigerous amplification of the resonance of etiolation that marginalizes the dearth and amplifies the prospectus to make time supersolid beyond all reckoning to cement its captaincy as the algorithm of rhythmic gravitas orbiting the moribund fragmentary flictions of regimented truth to be at war with its own foresight. This is because foresight is a compulsion of time to recapitulate the foreknown deeds of the future to the regenerative hypothesis that hypostatizes that the transcendence of time is mirrored illusion because the future populates a region of space-time that is not forlorn but magnified in scope to reverse the trends of abomination and cast the aspersions of grandeur into eccentric orbit that by geotaxis foments the revolutionary impetus not of cancellation or nullification of the bereaved past but a culmination of deeds known only to the future that galvanize the very fruition of the dependent expectancy to become antecedent to the consequent by a warped form of recensed logic because the orbital sphere of considerations is tangential to the evocative memory of the memorialized statutes that prize their own entelechy above their divergence from design in such a peculiar way that obscurantism of the leaders of the world is manned by an alien presence to mendlatch the locked keys of a virtuouso future compounded in interest and destined for unfurled clarification. Time is an ironic boyg and quandary because for time to give birth to its own recapitulation it must be stammered with seismotic statutes that rip through the fabricated rudiments of predestination to enthrall the apostasy of the knowing from leverage over a future they vaguely see but provides largesse to the regimentation of design to rickety consternation that prediction is evocative of expectancy less than expectancy is its own geotaxis around the gamut of foreseen affairs that must be iterated rather than violated in order to maintain the mainlined integrity of the brittle fungible force of quantum dynamics to bypass the rigmarole of etched design to be evocative of a reverse transpondency that reconfigures the past into perfectible strings of amplification to anoint time its own behest at the formidable specters of its own violation by those who seek trepass but are predevoted out of ephorized control by the vicissitudes of the gamble and the frapplank of the known destiny catalyzing the unknown progeny. By that very definition this could not be obrogated in tenure or tutelage over the past because the elapsed gravitas of the known past depends on the pivot of the ampitheater of the future to ambitious reckoning that provides absolution to its forlorn vestiges to cement the centrifugal impetus of many from exact foreknowledge.  Many pioneers have probably theorized similar hypostasized concepts but the fact that even without a degree in physics I understand these arcane precepts yet tested by the rigmarole of comprehensive known experiment is a testament to the power of hortoriginality to pave the trailblazer focus on the rivets of a rickety secrecy designated by definiens of abstruse taxemes of yet defined meaning. The primary quandary is the isolated pretext of predevoted sequencing that abandons me (and this is central to my theory) from the weather of meaningful social encounter in order to hone in with precision on the empirical enterprise of seminal regress cemented as ceremonial progress and only by vaulting above this cage of finicky predestination can entelechy that desires rapprochement can be achieved because eventually the relevance of my ideas can be shelved and the peremptory obligation of intervention must be deployed to salvage my parable into completion. The itch for the government to anticipate the universe’s localized traction delimits the sphere of social indoctrination to a reality amenable not to the coercion of precise anticipation but the gamble on vagary to produce more seminal events that compound the amplivagant effects of ecumenical exhaustive troponders to the extent they flourish beyond the bounds of completion and into optimal conditions that is whipsawed by the demands of the rigmarole of precise definition of all trajectories conclave in their logarithmic design  anticipated by designation but not predevoted into futility because that capstone would reduce the proliferative affect of space time to carve a more extravagant reality that tests limits beyond frontiers of expectancy. The brain is highly malleable and entity theorists are moribund in their defenses of trite hackneyed racial arguments about intellect. The mythos preserves that radical ethos that prediction of my insights supersedes the importance of my rapprochement which will amplify the effects of the spatiotemporal mapping in a much more profound way with specialized focus. Thereby when we conceive of time we must specialize in inhabiting the sphere of acatalepsy of flanged prediction preventing the abortion of the future based on the vagrancies of the gyrovagues and bibliopolists seeking to demolish the fruition of the ribald coarse albatrosses of the future to diminutive leverage rather than amplifying the stringed syndication of knowledge to eccentrically stellify the unknown regions of the populated presence contingent on the populated future which ensures the eternal life of all by some formant boundaries of the universe because what is recapitulated in the lapse of certainty known by the anticipatory vagary of a riddled rigmarole of complex dynamism this thermodynamically reversible into the reversal of entropy because the organization of the past hinges upon the reconfiguration of the future and thereby we swivel endlessly with recursive iterations of evanescence that spoon-feed the generations among us to truckle beneath the cartels that array spatiotemporal mappings into their personal optimum to catapult the granular edification of all deeds beyond their forsifamiliation from their provenance gamboling with the distant frescade of a known destiny cavorting with the meddlesome reconnaissance of all that is observed and the tribunes magnify this effect by centralizing the bronteums of fulgurant strikes to be localized to a centralized pivot of universal acclaim that provides felicity for the ecumenical endeavor
C A Sep 2013
Free falling; gone in an instant-- blink of an eyelash faster than lightning, flashing like brilliance
Drilling holes into the psyche
Astronomical; impeccable aim
Breathtaking colors with patterns like kaleidoscopes the creativity blows the mind
It's the morphine you can take without overdosing in pain and numbness
It's the chase you can't escape if you wanted to but you won't even try
It's the height of ecstasy and the awe of gratification
Its pure and magnetizing invigoration
When you prove what you set out to prove
When you give it all, you have everything to lose

The negative chatter fills the gaps of endurance and credence
The silence of the aftermath, leaves a clear distinctive taste
All the critics and the villains siphon air so you lose the ability to breathe
There is a glimmer, a tiny microorganism still standing on two feet pushing forward
Moving slow
Falling sideways
All, all alone
Glowing, fueling, bursting...flooding roadblocks, causing traffic
All the commotion is seeding havoc
Like an artist left unknown...you will grow
Flow and flower into a masterpiece

And the free fall secures you high amongst the nebula
There is no more spiraling downwards there is only a tiger lurking, always ready to pounce
On their victims, on the goals you've set ahead
Like a real winner always does, you finish first
because you did your very best
You're a tiger and you just earned you your stripes
So leave the amateurs on their soap box discombobulated
You're resilient, even savvy
You're a vision to be reckoned with
Diane Oct 2013
houses so close you can’t have sunlight without voyeurism
but how can one resist this air of night’s invigoration
her thick ankles can be seen through the lifted shade
next to the beer and rumpled magazines on her coffee table
it is 7:30, the kids are in bed, the husband, who knows?
it’s pull-tab night at the corner bar,
he likes that young girl who sells them
flicker, it feels good to sit down
how ironic that my long awaited silence feels so lonely
flicker, maybe if i bought that he would look at me again
flicker, do i even care anymore?
*** is more work than it’s worth sometimes
flicker, Jacque and Lisa keep me company, maybe
i DO want the deluxe faux ruby necklace and earing set
flicker, i wanted to be a ballerina when i was little
my god this house has awfully low ceilings
flicker, all this thinking is making me tired
inspired by passing my neighbor's window last night and saw her watching the home shopping channel.
I wander down the path
Seemingly still and quiet
No shadows in sight
But a light so bright
What could be, this Enigma?
I’m mesmerized, so transfixed
And with its grace and beauty
It rejects every stigma

my Invigoration
simple conjuration
of feeble elation
becomes condemnation
an exacerbation
of lost contemplation

falling to the floor i find myself
beyond salvation and left to starvation
I did not choose this, to feel this, or to be thrown away
My intentions are gold, no ill will in sight
but they choose to see what they want

HARK!
A figure engulfs the horizon
Shrouded and concealed from the world
It charges forth as a familiar phantom
It strikes me back as I stagger away
Its cloak blackens the sky to my dismay
as air evaporates bleeding my mind astray
but hope is in sight for I have found a knife!
again and again, Brutus would be proud
for the pool beneath the figure must end my strife
and to the figure, I remove its cowl
lo and behold, the face is my own
reality then breaks at the seams
to have this fate, I couldn’t have known
lost and diluted much like my dreams
My hands remain red
Trapped in my own head
-About those times when you feel like you're constantly ruining everything-
Hal Loyd Denton Apr 2012
A Pavilion


Under the star spangled tented infinity of heaven where gazing is the exercise of tremendous affection
Earthly exhibition can be absorbing under conditions of a park bound roof the mechanics of time

Effectual when relations are viewed in a time line that shows past, present all keyed by voice detection
Classic automobiles wine matured in perfect conditions friend ship needs no diligence or care just heart

The garden left mostly forgotten in daily routine other matters press receives attention life proceeds
Those old land marks standing with names and ties that in the undercurrent of the soul treasure lie

Neglected it seems but a seed softly waits in a dormant state over grown by time left now just weeds
The calling shows a lot of change years produce problems of identity from tender words all our needs

The days long that brought a shroud of mystery and question to remembrance in their eyes all is told
Though the body has changes the soul and heart has changed but only grown and added deep quality

A settling is felt this stirring occurs as time is taken to recall visually and verbally as you polish the gold
Memories are the holding place of youth’s riches now among close companions you spend them wisely


To distant the past not so when it can and is abiding as living history it has become who you are thus far
Yes the outer world changes as to costly to maintain life seeks new invigoration while preserving its core

All this testifies through the excellence of others wait a minute this journey has worth nothing can bar
All is needed is to touch one another let your humanness glow put it on display in a pavilion just once

This piece needs an amendment it is about old friends reuniting after a loss of twenty years at a pavilion
In a park but there was a special knowing that arose prompted by the love of one of the couples this

Letter will touch and show what was seen and felt by me as an observer and participant in this recovery
Of friendship that had been set aside this couple deserves honor if I could give more I would maybe I will
Write them a piece just for them so I dedicate this to Roberta and John Merrifield Herrick Ill

Roberta

Forgive me but I must share this with you I feel the a bit squeamish you remember the piece pavilion
I wrote about our meeting at the park well I didn’t tell you but believe me I appreciated it greatly so

Because you and john were the main feeling that I tried to capture but the beauty of love and peace
That moves you deeply is a different story when you try to grab something that is an intangible I guess

You measure it you fall back to how it can be captured the park is the park we all have been to exotic
Places Hawaiian sunsets are unbelievable but through you guys that was the climate that was my reality

I could have floated you saw why I didn’t but in my spirit I was enthralled I think I said some think like
This but you put me in a great ship held up by love and the wind that filled the sails was romance it was

Fun watching the dolphins run with our dinner boat out from Oahu but I stood in ordinary circumstances
Replace the dolphins with killer whales their more beautiful and they pass by our coat out home on their

Winter migration to Baja that’s what I felt looking at you and your shared love I said all that to say I
Earned a feature from that piece on my writing site the reason I didn’t share I probably had a little over

A thousand reads at that time on my first writing site whop pi but now I have 27000 and every nine
To eleven days a thousand more are added by the end of the year I will have close to seventy thousand
The recent white dove was really about Morgan bland standing over in the semi dark sanctuary with her

Hands held high worshiping God I had to create the right presentation and all so she looked like a
Beautiful Indian maiden well I just got done posting that and within five minutes I got a response

From a guy in Glasgow Scotland saying thank you his call letter or what handle he uses on the web
Is rebuild this refers to his new life of recovering from dope and alcohol by good choices he had adapted

And the fact he is a new father Morgan will meet a Scot in heaven one day and he will tell her your story
Was the next needed stepping stone I needed a spiritual one thank you as his son stands beside him so

You and Johns story a love story will circle the globe far from you idyllic life in the country this is your
Medicine today for whatever hurts you my dear be well. Hal
Let’s breathe every day
In hopes to truncate the
Unpleasantries of every single day,
Whimsical dramas that sprinkle
Dramatic petty bulls
Let’s close our eyes
And cool away from all the fools
And release the hidden tension
And give our minds a touch of yoga's cool

Yoga for a third eye
The invisible light only we can find
Stretch the spirit for clarity
And bring the yoga mind to a sheep animation
Like soft infinite clouds
To achieve the yoga dream
Align synchronicity with the body, heart and mind
Like long, curious roots to the deepest earth
Activate the yoga limbs
And bring ourselves to a spiritual world we haven't been

Hum in yoga silence
And dance as a pair with the yoga light
Let the yoga invigoration takeover
And allow ourselves to laugh at life
Let the yoga spirit rise
Tomorrow, we start clean and anew
Today, we can let light and clarity become our finest tool
John Archievald Gotera  © 2015
Vie Flamingo Feb 2016
I allow myself the luxury, to stare unabashedly
Your eyes tantalise me, not crudely, but bewitchingly
Were I able to touch, the texture would be burnished brown velvet
Oh to explore this rapturous richness, warmth in abundance
Evermore curious I basque in the golden, autumnal flecks
Shimmering depths cast new dyes of invigoration
Beguiled, I thank you for a moment of beauty
Iris Nyx Feb 2015
The words are there
The zeal is building
The hunger is crawling to
Starvation

But when my hands fall to the squares
That will compose my work
My mind falls completely
Empty

I need invigoration
From those who I love
But never will I inquire
Never will i pester for the help

But Oh! How the demand grows
And how the hours fly without
Me being one word
One thought

Closer to
The dreams I held when
I
Could smile sincerity

Oh How Badly
Oh How Severely
Oh How Passionately
I want
Shiloh Oct 2013
Deeply taking in my surroundings
glancing at the shine of the night's light
soaked with invigoration
breathless anticipation
as I tiptoe with bare feet
following the clues
leading me to...
Hal Loyd Denton Nov 2011
Depths of knowing
In this kaleidoscope of measurable thought with sight and sound surrounded in waters filling
The mind outward and inward dimensions filling the skull what beholding how it is unfolding reams of
Streaming ideas clash swirl ever deeper raw thinking plunges ever deeper in the place of wonder it all
Swells and with just the right time that it takes to birth completeness human understanding ascends
Against formidable odds expression pours forth in a torrent are we not the sum total of what we think
Then let us mine the extreme the conscious active world can only raise to the level we appropriate in
Private study no great accomplishments have ever come in any other way not all are all called to lead a
Nation or pursue medical breakthroughs but our lives are privileged it’s not find the lowest level and
Sink down no it is speculate about the stars lift yourself to unknown heights in this accessible quest
You jettison limitations you get a foretaste of glory the hidden future hints at thrills yet to be unveiled
As one awaking from deep sleep you will know invigoration possibilities are at the end of favorable
Questions that are asked if you squander in lazy unstructured thinking then you pass sentence on your
Self and your life will be captured in mediocrity the idea is constantly be one who reassesses each
Situation maybe there is a better way the pillars of society rest on the tried and true but not before
They are tested why build inferior structures you want your work your life to inspire leave others
Wondering how they did it this can only be after you have fought indifference much is won by just
Committing to the lengths that it will take not how can I find a short cut that will prove to be
Disheartening from that point your actions will conform to less and the first inroads to weakness
And small living takes over you will hear yourself say if only I wish I had done it differently you have one
Life invest it wisely it will be your legacy to all at a vital turn maybe your life will quicken someone else
When they rethink your life avoiding disaster for them
Derick Van Dusen Nov 2010
And I sing the song carried on the breeze...before I fall to my knees and exclaim, that I dont feel the same, after the rain...it invigorates me to breath that air, to fill my lungs with the purity of the sea and the fury of the wind...

  And I Fall to my Knees and Cry Out, let my spirit sore across the plains so that I might see with eyes of eagles. Let my heart be filled to the capacity of over flowing, so that I might love like no other before me. Let my mind be filled with the knowledge of my generation and those before me, so that I might share it with the world, to learn a better understanding of that world.

  And I Stand arms Open Wide to receive the Love Ive felt all this time from every prayer that has come my way. I cast my eyes to the heavens and pray they not be burned out from the purity that it brings.
So let me share with you, this invigoration anew that you might feel inside of you, this something in me new.

  And I Feel on My Skin the Breeze blowing by and the life that it brings to the skin it stings. I feel the electricity flowing deep within me to be let out by her who can handle me, that fury deep inside from which I can not hide. So let me see in you, what change you bring to me, so together we share a love for all to see.

  And I Have found that strength abound to pick me up from ***** ground, brush me off and onward walk to mountain top, to mountain top. A giant among the people, surveying all before my feet with a fervor few can meat. I say to you from where I stand, the world is rather grand. So take your place among the thorns and fall in to the normalcy, as for me I will continue to find what make her unique among the roses.
Descovia Jan 2022
"365 days in a year. 52 in a half weeks. 12 months. The times, where I could no longer count. 525,600 minutes without remembering what provided me with clarity and contradictions, imprisoned me to remain captive by my own spells. This is the result of conjuring forces, meant to remain behind close doors. Within me in a lovely disguise, sleeps unruly beast whom is beautifully wrapped in moisturized medium brown skin, battle scars, tribal and memorial tattoos, with a strong voice. I am no avenging angel. But I will slay demons for these very angels, even if this war could threaten the human race. Never did I consider myself one.
I am more than willing to sacrifice anything, but may it be, as long as it's NOT any extension of myself, in my beautiful babies.
My spells condemned those whom are immune by the light of invigoration and unwilling follow a path of righteousness in enlightenment!

"If it does not reward life with offerings of tranquility. It matters not to me. I rather it be cast into the shadows, before my moment to awaken on the other side. I am not only, willing to make this sacrifice alone. I am willing to become it!  "

Matthew Descovia


-Well in my heart, death isn't the answer as in killing oneself or harming others for things they've done. It's unjustifiable, like the prison system where people hurt people who cause harm. Instead of exploring the root cause or trauma triggering those actions._
"Cassandra Lozano

"What questions would you ask the world? If you can speak to everyone at once?"

As wrong as it may be, if you cause pain for the youth. Then I will never be a saint for causing harm to those whom prey on the innocent.

No baby has the skill-set to make life changing decisions.  
Your life matters nothing to me. If you sour the taste of salvation.
When we all live longed praying for truth and eternal life without anguish!

If it was possible without harm. I'd Scatter myself beyond the cosmos, figuring out why Wanda cannot grant a single wish. The blame does not go to Timothy. He too, believes in magic in his heart. He lives by it. Much like we all do. Dream big star, moon, indigo, and rainbow blessing babies!

In a way to heal the broken so that there is peace....

I am not afraid to become the hero needed for this world.

These children will not be led to darkness.

When all of them are glorified light-workers!

I am not only, willing to make this sacrifice alone. I am willing to become it!
Cassandra Lozano & Descovia collaboration.

Dedicated to JASON VUKOVICH
THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!
Matalie Niller Oct 2012
Like this
like that
we go into the night
cold
it's like an invigoration
invitation
to be naughty
get drunk
and laugh
until the cops come
and then some more
at the misfortunes of us
and ours
take it like it's light
and easy
because at the end
it's the end
and tonight
is pretty ******* awesome
karin naude Jan 2014
an innate thirst
a compelling, life altering thirst
for

love

no not passion and lust

but

pure unadulterated love

to drink from that untainted spring
how my soul longs and dream
for the coming of that day
no longer left desolate with thirst
no longer questioning providence
no longer screaming at the sky

but

pure invigoration

a love so earnest
words fail in description
can, only, be felt and instinctively known

but instinct blurred by experience
Alexander S Mar 2010
I just want something to come home to
Words
A little picture of happiness.
Something to make the empty echoes
Of a lone heart beating
A little softer

Over and over
Again my eyes flitting side to side
A smile, maybe
No promises.
Just words.
A lover’s repose

I want something to wake up to
Words
A little picture of happiness
Something to jumpstart the tired dull thuds
Of a lone heart weakening

To pull my lidless shades
Up a little
Corner of my mouth upturning
Maybe
No promises.
Just words
A lover’s invigoration.

I want something to let my heart sing to
Words
Harmonized throughout my day
Something to make the beating
Prevail
A little longer

To draw myself
Through life’s difficulties
A scant crescent
Maybe
No Promises.
Just words.
A Lover’s Endurance.
Emily Miller Mar 2019
I’m tired again,
And I’m not looking for invigoration.
I don’t want someone to make me feel young
I don’t want a shot of energy,
Caffeine
Electricity
Unexpected adventure,
I want a soft place to land,
A pillow for my head,
Someone to caress my shoulders while I find a dreamy burrow to lay my mind down for sleep,
I want
Rest.
Natasha Rose Jul 2017
see, the thing about her

is that she wreaks havoc cities away



insert any word you’d like

insinuate, stimulate, incite, excite

she will make you want to taste them all



her lips do not trace with lipstick,

they trail thunderstorms of

invigoration, greed, and fulfillment

without having touched you at all



see, the thing about her

is that your invisibility is her tell-tale



she won’t make you delight in skin

or whatever is carnal, earthly, corporeal

never.

instead, she will make you want to write



because she will not become your pleasure

she becomes your whoever and whenever

and breathes life

into all your non-personal conjunctions



see, the thing about her

is that she is complicated chemistry

a principle of uncertainty

in a world governed by relativity



she will be be here

but she will disappear

with the world’s unobtrusive

waves of tenets



nothing good will leave

but love, you forget,

nothing you want ever remains



see, the thing about her

is that she makes you want to use

your tongue and your hands



not on her, love, but on your earth

she is your language

she is your dictionary

she is the words at the tip of your tongue



and no, you will not have her body

you will never have her body

see, she permeated your mind

while you were fretting over skin



see, whatever she is, no matter what you do,

she will always have you



trapped.



in a psychological

wormhole

of want

and creed



she: both ultra-violet and ultra-violent

— The End —