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"joyously" poems
A single raindrop falls from the sky, depressed in its loneliness as it descends. It lands and drips down a grassy slope, alone and forgotten. A single raindrop falls from the sky. It falls from dark clouds and gloomy air. It brings nothing but sadness to the earth below and desires only to be heard or seen. A single raindrop falls from the sky, felt only by a stranger. It's wiped away, declared a nuisance, and cast away from existence. A single raindrop falls from the sky, mistaken for a tear. Thought to be from an angel of a lost age. It merely stirs the dust. A hundred raindrops fall from the sky, all lonely but together. They cause a splash and demand attention. Still only felt by one. A hundred raindrops fall from the sky, unable to quench the earth's thirst. They disappear, taken by the ground, embraced for the last time. A hundred raindrops fall from the sky. Not a head turns to notice them. They cry out loudly but cannot be heard, vanishing as they land. A thousand raindrops fall from the sky. The clouds gather to watch the spectacle. They grow darker as they bunch together, warning those below of the coming. A thousand raindrops fall from the sky and tap people on the shoulder. "Come watch us," they whisper before leaving. Few people are left behind. A thousand raindrops fall from the sky, looking for an audience. The people have left and taken their friends to hide in the buildings they made. A million raindrops fall from the sky, and joyously, they sing. They hit the ground, the cars, the roofs, and make music for those in hiding. A million raindrops fall from the sky. They dance and cheer and smile. The sun decides it wants to watch. The light dances with raindrops for awhile. A million raindrops fall from the sky, accompanied by rays of gold. They bring new color to the city of gray and rejuvenate all of the old. A gentle rain falls from the sky and makes art upon the ground. It quenches the earth's thirst and hums in our ears, dancing to its own sound. A gentle rain falls from the sky. People watch with awe from behind glass. Ignored by many, precious to captivated few. They long for it to last. A gentle rain falls from the sky and gracefully sways in the breeze. It brings forth calmness and a sense of peace. It blesses the green fields and trees. A gentle rain falls from the sky, watched by a child with wonder. It sends the breeze to lift the child and brings them out from under. A gentle rain falls from the sky and splashes on window panes. It plays with the child and hums sweet tunes as it makes puddles in the traffic lanes. A gentle rain falls from the sky and ripples in the water. A new world created, impossibly calm. It makes the child an offer. A gentle rain falls from the sky and whispers in the child's ear. "Wait for me.  I will return. I won't leave you alone here." A gentle rain falls from the sky and sings goodbye to the child. The clouds dissipate as the sun takes over. The departing rain simply smiles. A million raindrops fall from the sky, murmuring farewells and goodbyes. Each gives the child a tender hug as the color returns to the skies. A thousand raindrops fall from the sky, then a hundred, then one. The single raindrop kisses the child standing alone in the sun. No longer do raindrops fall from the sky, but a child waits for them. To dance and sing and draw and play, with the gentle rain again.
0
Aug 19, 2019
Aug 19, 2019 at 4:07 PM UTC
Raindrop
A single raindrop falls from the sky, depressed in its loneliness as it descends. It lands and drips down a grassy slope, alone and forgotten. A single raindrop falls from the sky. It falls from dark clouds and gloomy air. It brings nothing but sadness to the earth below and desires only to be heard or seen. A single raindrop falls from the sky, felt only by a stranger. It's wiped away, declared a nuisance, and cast away from existence. A single raindrop falls from the sky, mistaken for a tear. Thought to be from an angel of a lost age. It merely stirs the dust. A hundred raindrops fall from the sky, all lonely but together. They cause a splash and demand attention. Still only felt by one. A hundred raindrops fall from the sky, unable to quench the earth's thirst. They disappear, taken by the ground, embraced for the last time. A hundred raindrops fall from the sky. Not a head turns to notice them. They cry out loudly but cannot be heard, vanishing as they land. A thousand raindrops fall from the sky. The clouds gather to watch the spectacle. They grow darker as they bunch together, warning those below of the coming. A thousand raindrops fall from the sky and tap people on the shoulder. "Come watch us," they whisper before leaving. Few people are left behind. A thousand raindrops fall from the sky, looking for an audience. The people have left and taken their friends to hide in the buildings they made. A million raindrops fall from the sky, and joyously, they sing. They hit the ground, the cars, the roofs, and make music for those in hiding. A million raindrops fall from the sky. They dance and cheer and smile. The sun decides it wants to watch. The light dances with raindrops for awhile. A million raindrops fall from the sky, accompanied by rays of gold. They bring new color to the city of gray and rejuvenate all of the old. A gentle rain falls from the sky and makes art upon the ground. It quenches the earth's thirst and hums in our ears, dancing to its own sound. A gentle rain falls from the sky. People watch with awe from behind glass. Ignored by many, precious to captivated few. They long for it to last. A gentle rain falls from the sky and gracefully sways in the breeze. It brings forth calmness and a sense of peace. It blesses the green fields and trees. A gentle rain falls from the sky, watched by a child with wonder. It sends the breeze to lift the child and brings them out from under. A gentle rain falls from the sky and splashes on window panes. It plays with the child and hums sweet tunes as it makes puddles in the traffic lanes. A gentle rain falls from the sky and ripples in the water. A new world created, impossibly calm. It makes the child an offer. A gentle rain falls from the sky and whispers in the child's ear. "Wait for me.  I will return. I won't leave you alone here." A gentle rain falls from the sky and sings goodbye to the child. The clouds dissipate as the sun takes over. The departing rain simply smiles. A million raindrops fall from the sky, murmuring farewells and goodbyes. Each gives the child a tender hug as the color returns to the skies. A thousand raindrops fall from the sky, then a hundred, then one. The single raindrop kisses the child standing alone in the sun. No longer do raindrops fall from the sky, but a child waits for them. To dance and sing and draw and play, with the gentle rain again.
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96
If Success was Happiness Then achievers would be glad But look around and you will find That many of them are sad Of course, Achievement gives joy And excitement, oh boy! But when our need becomes our greed To misery, this will lead The whole world is chasing Success Everyone wants achievement Sometimes we win, sometimes we lose There is no Contentment Why do people want to succeed? Why is everyone in a race? The Truth is that we want to win So that there is a smile on our face But though we win, we are not glad We have money, why are we sad? Happiness is not money, the sages said It's sleeping soundly when you are in bed We hear of suicides in the homes of the rich If they were Happy, then why this glitch? Although they are achievers, this fact we know They are not Happy, their face has no glow If successful, but unhappy, what is the use? Winning or smiling, what would you choose? The purpose of Success is for us to be glad What is the use of winning, if it makes us sad? Happiness is something different, we learn Not just money that we earn and burn Happiness is built on a foundation of peace Then we are blissful like waves in the seas Look around at the people who are glad They live in the moment, they are never sad They don't swing from the future to the past They are the ones whose Happiness lasts Happiness has no price tag, know this my friend It's a state of mind where nothing can offend It's being able to smile, and able to laugh Not just trying to raise our Success graph We can't measure joy in dollar and pound Happy is he who peace has found Though we may fly the world around We may be miserable on the ground Success is not Happiness, this Truth we must know We may have everything, what's the use of this show? The truly successful one is he Who lives with smile, laughter, and glee If one is Happy, then one has achieved all One doesn't have to be rich and in fame be tall One can have little, but if content is he Then he can live joyously Achievement gives Happiness, this fact we know But with Fulfilment and Contentment, does Happiness grow One who is Happy, doesn't need to win He has Peace and Joy without committing sin Joy doesn't need a foundation of cash One doesn't have to be rich, to enjoy life's bash Happiness is a simple state of the mind It comes from being loving, it comes from being Kind Happiness is Success. It is achieving life's goal It is being Happy in the heart, Peaceful in the Soul True Happiness is eternal, not just a moment of joy It last's forever, it can’t be destroyed Success is a journey of valleys and peaks Life is a see-saw, there are laughs and squeaks Success, unlike Happiness, doesn't last for long But the truly Happy ones always sing a Happy song So, Success is not Happiness, Happiness is Success You may be an achiever, whose heart is not at rest But though not successful, if Happy you are Then you are an achiever, you are the very best
0
Apr 23, 2020
Apr 23, 2020 at 8:26 AM UTC
SUCCESS IS NOT HAPPINESS... HAPPINESS IS SUCCESS
If Success was Happiness Then achievers would be glad But look around and you will find That many of them are sad Of course, Achievement gives joy And excitement, oh boy! But when our need becomes our greed To misery, this will lead The whole world is chasing Success Everyone wants achievement Sometimes we win, sometimes we lose There is no Contentment Why do people want to succeed? Why is everyone in a race? The Truth is that we want to win So that there is a smile on our face But though we win, we are not glad We have money, why are we sad? Happiness is not money, the sages said It's sleeping soundly when you are in bed We hear of suicides in the homes of the rich If they were Happy, then why this glitch? Although they are achievers, this fact we know They are not Happy, their face has no glow If successful, but unhappy, what is the use? Winning or smiling, what would you choose? The purpose of Success is for us to be glad What is the use of winning, if it makes us sad? Happiness is something different, we learn Not just money that we earn and burn Happiness is built on a foundation of peace Then we are blissful like waves in the seas Look around at the people who are glad They live in the moment, they are never sad They don't swing from the future to the past They are the ones whose Happiness lasts Happiness has no price tag, know this my friend It's a state of mind where nothing can offend It's being able to smile, and able to laugh Not just trying to raise our Success graph We can't measure joy in dollar and pound Happy is he who peace has found Though we may fly the world around We may be miserable on the ground Success is not Happiness, this Truth we must know We may have everything, what's the use of this show? The truly successful one is he Who lives with smile, laughter, and glee If one is Happy, then one has achieved all One doesn't have to be rich and in fame be tall One can have little, but if content is he Then he can live joyously Achievement gives Happiness, this fact we know But with Fulfilment and Contentment, does Happiness grow One who is Happy, doesn't need to win He has Peace and Joy without committing sin Joy doesn't need a foundation of cash One doesn't have to be rich, to enjoy life's bash Happiness is a simple state of the mind It comes from being loving, it comes from being Kind Happiness is Success. It is achieving life's goal It is being Happy in the heart, Peaceful in the Soul True Happiness is eternal, not just a moment of joy It last's forever, it can’t be destroyed Success is a journey of valleys and peaks Life is a see-saw, there are laughs and squeaks Success, unlike Happiness, doesn't last for long But the truly Happy ones always sing a Happy song So, Success is not Happiness, Happiness is Success You may be an achiever, whose heart is not at rest But though not successful, if Happy you are Then you are an achiever, you are the very best
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72
Through the country paths, I lazily loitered, watching Nature in its changing hue straying farther into the interiors, sundry and sublime vistas came into view. in response to zephyr’s warm embrace, the silvery leaves joyously fluttered. the bees busied themselves collecting pollen and birds on tree tops merrily chattered it was the *** end of verdant spring. summer’s sun stood behind my head. bleat of sheep was heard from far. ‘Good day to you’….. Someone said. There stood on the hill, a boy around fifteen obviously he was of tribal breed. with a beaming smile, he greeted me but on walking to him, he ran like a steed I saw him disappear behind the trees and enter into a hut tiny as a nest he lived in the lap of Mother Nature, far from the city and its sooty dust being coaxed, he hesitantly came out. my tone of assurance and pleasing smile, seemed to have won his confidence as to a friend, he shared his eventful tale. pointing to the sheep grazing in the slope, he said, he earned a living caring the flock. he stayed in the woods all day long, feeding and tending his master’s sheep. from dawn to dusk, through woods and meads, he leads his sheep, calling them by their name. un vexed, with simple pleasures he is content and with a nomad’s life, he seems to be tame he said, at home he has his invalid mother. bringing her back to health is his mission in life on referring to his mother, I watched his eyes glitter nothing other than her illness posed to him a strife from every utterance, I could sense his filial love. even in abundance, while shadows line many faces, on his visage, hope lingered as a dancing flame to me he seemed above many, rich in other graces! While parting, I handed him a little money pausing unbelievably, with moist eyes he accepted it, when a breeze passed caressing us as if over a kind gesture, Nature seemed to rejoice!
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May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018 at 9:23 AM UTC
A Rare Beauty Beheld
Through the country paths, I lazily loitered, watching Nature in its changing hue straying farther into the interiors, sundry and sublime vistas came into view. in response to zephyr’s warm embrace, the silvery leaves joyously fluttered. the bees busied themselves collecting pollen and birds on tree tops merrily chattered it was the *** end of verdant spring. summer’s sun stood behind my head. bleat of sheep was heard from far. ‘Good day to you’….. Someone said. There stood on the hill, a boy around fifteen obviously he was of tribal breed. with a beaming smile, he greeted me but on walking to him, he ran like a steed I saw him disappear behind the trees and enter into a hut tiny as a nest he lived in the lap of Mother Nature, far from the city and its sooty dust being coaxed, he hesitantly came out. my tone of assurance and pleasing smile, seemed to have won his confidence as to a friend, he shared his eventful tale. pointing to the sheep grazing in the slope, he said, he earned a living caring the flock. he stayed in the woods all day long, feeding and tending his master’s sheep. from dawn to dusk, through woods and meads, he leads his sheep, calling them by their name. un vexed, with simple pleasures he is content and with a nomad’s life, he seems to be tame he said, at home he has his invalid mother. bringing her back to health is his mission in life on referring to his mother, I watched his eyes glitter nothing other than her illness posed to him a strife from every utterance, I could sense his filial love. even in abundance, while shadows line many faces, on his visage, hope lingered as a dancing flame to me he seemed above many, rich in other graces! While parting, I handed him a little money pausing unbelievably, with moist eyes he accepted it, when a breeze passed caressing us as if over a kind gesture, Nature seemed to rejoice!
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44
***If I were a Rainbow The children would run to me Turning upside down, I would be an iridescent swing, The children would mount my rainbow wing Swaying high up in the starry skies ascending on the moon The children do bunny jumps, counting stars till noon Awestruck and desirous they pick a few The colours pink purple orange magenta and blue Swaying down to the flower garden They would pick flowers from the boughs laden Threading in a star and a flower into  an ornamental  garland Adorned as neckpieces , running around ,making one happy land If I were a Rainbow I would dismember all the semicircles making one hula hoop The children would gleefully twirl and sway into the  enormous loop If I were a Rainbow I would become one big ramp The children would joyously roller skate  up and down Lighting up the ramp If I were a Rainbow And all of these came true I would turn upside down making one radiant smile across the sky The children would happily smile back at me , waving me good bye***
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Aug 25, 2017
Aug 25, 2017 at 11:49 PM UTC
If I Were A Rainbow
On the surface I look like an American But I've always felt I've always known That deep down inside I am Italian! •• For the sake of continuity I'll still write as Jeffrey Robin But I am now SIGNIOR  GIOVANNI FRANCESCO BELLADONNA DE LA BAD *** DUDE! (Oh yeah I'm Italian Mafiosa!) •• I feel liberated! PURE •• Oh yeah. There's one more thing You know how I'm always writing these highly sensitive intelligent poems? Well I've looked deep down inside myself and realized that this isn't me! Deep down inside I AM AN IDIOT! A FOOL! •• Out of the closet! At last! Free! •• This is the first poem I've written reflecting my newer Truer Status! •• •• Let us romp together joyously To the DEATH CAMPS. Beyond the Hills!
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Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 10:13 PM UTC
Coming out of the closet
Merry Margaret As midsummer flower, Gentle as falcon Or hawk of the tower: With solace and gladness, Much mirth and no madness, All good and no badness; So joyously, So maidenly, So womanly Her demeaning In every thing, Far, far passing That I can indite, Or suffice to write Of Merry Margaret As midsummer flower, Gentle as falcon Or hawk of the tower. As patient and still And as full of good will As fair Isaphill, Coliander, Sweet pomander, Good Cassander; Steadfast of thought, Well made, well wrought, Far may be sought, Ere that ye can find So courteous, so kind As merry Margaret, This midsummer flower, Gentle as falcon Or hawk of the tower.
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6.2k
To Mistress Margaret Hussey
Greetings audience. I am off my medication now and I am feeling vastly better. Something just cleared my conscious and vascular blockage so joyously. I will not be posting videos due to my camera and devices breaking. No diatribes nor any vitriolic comments were conferred during my time gone throughout my family and my peers, assuming that is the reason I am now healthy (dropping toxic ties). Unluckily, all of my social media was hacked. Refrain from following anything linked with my name. Indeed, I am not here to bloviate, rather to celebrate. Thank you for your cooperation. I will now go play childishly. Farewell. : )
0
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 3:17 PM UTC
I am okay.
(o, holy night) sweet carols ring throughout the dark echoing joyously — warm words wrap their arms around us with our hearts aglow we know that we sing of mercy and goodness and fulfilled promises (the stars are brightly shining) we dance in peppermint winds against skies ablaze with colored lights spinning on the water’s surface but none shine more brightly than this dawn breaking in me for come has the One for whom this weary world’s been waiting (it is the night) the air is thick with symphonies of spices cars glide past us, eager to make it home children laugh, there are strangers no more baby born, God of angels and galaxies distant no more (of our dear Savior’s birth) how beautiful this truth -- that thrill of hope became tangible in a manger love itself swaddled in cloth the cry of this child broke centuries of silence His eyes bright with a promise of all things new and glorious o, how divine how divine is this night
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Dec 9, 2017
Dec 9, 2017 at 11:17 AM UTC
night divine
The moonlight fades from flower and rose And the stars dim one by one; The tale is told, the song is sung, And the Fairy feast is done. The night-wind rocks the sleeping flowers, And sings to them, soft and low. The early birds erelong will wake: 'T is time for the Elves to go. O'er the sleeping earth we silently pass, Unseen by mortal eye, And send sweet dreams, as we lightly float Through the quiet moonlit sky;-- For the stars' soft eyes alone may see, And the flowers alone may know, The feasts we hold, the tales we tell; So't is time for the Elves to go. From bird, and blossom, and bee, We learn the lessons they teach; And seek, by kindly deeds, to win A loving friend in each. And though unseen on earth we dwell, Sweet voices whisper low, And gentle hearts most joyously greet The Elves where'er they go. When next we meet in the Fairy dell, May the silver moon's soft light Shine then on faces gay as now, And Elfin hearts as light. Now spread each wing, for the eastern sky With sunlight soon shall glow. The morning star shall light us home: Farewell! for the Elves must go.
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4.3k
Fairy Song
I stood outside watching the rain slowly melt from the clouds My porch let me step onto its short pathway, for it knew my thoughts I stood there and looked up at the sky, being guarded by the small roof above me I watched as the rain fell silently to the streets and listened as it hit the bushes I kept waiting for it to change I kept waiting for it to change me For it to wash away something deep inside me I wanted it to wash away any hurt Wash away the insecurities Wash away the denial Wash away the sins Wash away the thinking of “You’ll never feel the touch of someone in love” Wash away the scars Wash away the memories Wash away the impurities Wash away I stood waiting but the rain still poured on my outstretched hands My hands opening to God asking,”Why me?” The hands of a woman who has never felt the hands of a man in love The hands that can make me whole once more As I stood watching the lightening soar across the sky and the thunder gently hum I wondered “Is this life real? Is this God real? Is love real? Is any of it real?” I shivered and stood waiting for the rain’s response None came; the only response was the silent tread of water heading toward a gutter Funny, just like my life, always fighting against gravity to stay clear of the gutter Shivering I stepped back inside and heard a small clink of a piece of broken glass I held it, amazed, wondering if my life would end this way In the hands of a tiny piece of melted sand I looked at its tiny iceberg shape I turned it and it suddenly transformed into a misshaped heart A heart, like mine, so clear, so ready, so fragile I tossed the tiny love into the air as lightening made its last hoorah Hearing only the distinctive clink as it hit the sidewalk The rain responded joyously as it picked up its pace This was her response Nothing may be real but the rain In the end, sometimes, it’s all we can depend on to wash away our old selves To stand, like an escape from Shawshank; free This was my answer That my tiny glass love lying patiently on the side of the road will someday be picked up and thrown wildly into the wind hoping that it shall find the fingers of a lovestruck current This time instead of a slab of concrete, I shall be there to catch it as lightening strikes my heart I looked up at the tiny roof guarding my head from the cold drops of reality It was then that I decided it was time to take the roof off of my life, leaving me unguarded I closed the door, shivering with a renewed sense of myself I curled under the blanket asking again the same questions that haunted me, “Is this life real? Is this God real? Is love real? Is any of it real?” The rain answered, “Yes”.
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Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 1:14 AM UTC
When It Rains, It Pours
I stood outside watching the rain slowly melt from the clouds My porch let me step onto its short pathway, for it knew my thoughts I stood there and looked up at the sky, being guarded by the small roof above me I watched as the rain fell silently to the streets and listened as it hit the bushes I kept waiting for it to change I kept waiting for it to change me For it to wash away something deep inside me I wanted it to wash away any hurt Wash away the insecurities Wash away the denial Wash away the sins Wash away the thinking of “You’ll never feel the touch of someone in love” Wash away the scars Wash away the memories Wash away the impurities Wash away I stood waiting but the rain still poured on my outstretched hands My hands opening to God asking,”Why me?” The hands of a woman who has never felt the hands of a man in love The hands that can make me whole once more As I stood watching the lightening soar across the sky and the thunder gently hum I wondered “Is this life real? Is this God real? Is love real? Is any of it real?” I shivered and stood waiting for the rain’s response None came; the only response was the silent tread of water heading toward a gutter Funny, just like my life, always fighting against gravity to stay clear of the gutter Shivering I stepped back inside and heard a small clink of a piece of broken glass I held it, amazed, wondering if my life would end this way In the hands of a tiny piece of melted sand I looked at its tiny iceberg shape I turned it and it suddenly transformed into a misshaped heart A heart, like mine, so clear, so ready, so fragile I tossed the tiny love into the air as lightening made its last hoorah Hearing only the distinctive clink as it hit the sidewalk The rain responded joyously as it picked up its pace This was her response Nothing may be real but the rain In the end, sometimes, it’s all we can depend on to wash away our old selves To stand, like an escape from Shawshank; free This was my answer That my tiny glass love lying patiently on the side of the road will someday be picked up and thrown wildly into the wind hoping that it shall find the fingers of a lovestruck current This time instead of a slab of concrete, I shall be there to catch it as lightening strikes my heart I looked up at the tiny roof guarding my head from the cold drops of reality It was then that I decided it was time to take the roof off of my life, leaving me unguarded I closed the door, shivering with a renewed sense of myself I curled under the blanket asking again the same questions that haunted me, “Is this life real? Is this God real? Is love real? Is any of it real?” The rain answered, “Yes”.
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48
Apathy, oh dear apathy How I suffered slowly Heart so lonely Even safe in their arms Your coldest embrace Hides my tear-stained face Save me from the shell From the nothing I have become Dear apathy, dear apathy My heart rings lowly An echoless bell, A great empty shell, Ever trapped in the greatest of hells Why you come to me I do not know For you cover my soul and call it home Shelter me from the rain in my head Even when I wake from my shivering bed There is no more dread There is no more pain Not sorrow nor aching Only nothing again Nothing but numb What have I become? What have I...become? Dear apathy Even when I should be happily Joyously so You refuse to go Oh the great things that you know… Dear apathy, dearest apathy My heart, it suffered slowly Until you came to me Took me into your embrace You shelter my tear-stained face From all of this disgrace That has become me… Whatever am I to be, With or without you My dearest apathy? My dearest apathy I suffered so slowly Heartstrings, tear and fray For indescribable reasons I stay Even whilst they play Ever so lowly There is no echo, no ring or sound There is no song, no feeling at all There is no care, not a bit in the world For I have given all I have to give In this great life that I live I give and I give… Until I can no more Until I can no more My heart opens the door… It opens the door Welcoming you into my coldest embrace Dear apathy, you came for me When I needed you most I was but your host, A wailing ghost Until you came to me… Now my greatest emotions The vastest of oceans They rest, now They leave me be… Since you have come to me They leave me be… Dear apathy, dear apathy… These times you come to me Shelter me, hold me to be Lulled into your coldest of arms Silence the alarms Out with the candle Out with me… And welcome, dearest apathy - Jay M October 11th, 2021
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Oct 11, 2021
Oct 11, 2021 at 12:12 PM UTC
Dear Apathy - Song
Apathy, oh dear apathy How I suffered slowly Heart so lonely Even safe in their arms Your coldest embrace Hides my tear-stained face Save me from the shell From the nothing I have become Dear apathy, dear apathy My heart rings lowly An echoless bell, A great empty shell, Ever trapped in the greatest of hells Why you come to me I do not know For you cover my soul and call it home Shelter me from the rain in my head Even when I wake from my shivering bed There is no more dread There is no more pain Not sorrow nor aching Only nothing again Nothing but numb What have I become? What have I...become? Dear apathy Even when I should be happily Joyously so You refuse to go Oh the great things that you know… Dear apathy, dearest apathy My heart, it suffered slowly Until you came to me Took me into your embrace You shelter my tear-stained face From all of this disgrace That has become me… Whatever am I to be, With or without you My dearest apathy? My dearest apathy I suffered so slowly Heartstrings, tear and fray For indescribable reasons I stay Even whilst they play Ever so lowly There is no echo, no ring or sound There is no song, no feeling at all There is no care, not a bit in the world For I have given all I have to give In this great life that I live I give and I give… Until I can no more Until I can no more My heart opens the door… It opens the door Welcoming you into my coldest embrace Dear apathy, you came for me When I needed you most I was but your host, A wailing ghost Until you came to me… Now my greatest emotions The vastest of oceans They rest, now They leave me be… Since you have come to me They leave me be… Dear apathy, dear apathy… These times you come to me Shelter me, hold me to be Lulled into your coldest of arms Silence the alarms Out with the candle Out with me… And welcome, dearest apathy - Jay M October 11th, 2021
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77
Number 7 in the ORLOK series and one of the best O how I relish the taste of blood ****** out from the devastated jugular But there is more, much more When the victim is a nubile **** From a Transylvanian village Where ****** morality Is quite ******* thin on the ground; And that is how I met my fate. 'Twas on an October eve When I met plump Esmeralda And (having fed my fill from her neck as she slept in her hut under filthy rags stinking of stale ***** I sank my fangs into her naked belly Ripping into her bloated guts With my accustomed gusto; My tongue slurping its way Over her twitching **** And finally I descended joyously To her odorous spunk-encrusted ***** For the last rites, Before the final curtain To her worthless life of peasantry. But then, as my excitement mounted, And just as I was on the verge Of pumping out my vampiric ******* I felt an agonising, mind-blasting pain As a major stroke swept through me, Wrecking my synapses big time, Turning my brain into guacamole. And now I am a crippled ****** Just a spasticated old vampire In my second-hand rusting wheelchair, Courtesy of Romanian Social Services, Drooling helplessly Into my swollen pissy crotch, Waiting for another enema, My sole remaining pleasure And a stimulus to my jaded prostate. But, hurrah! hurrah! new hope arrives: A miracle occurs as I read of The new wonder pill from SuperDrug Available only in private practise And guaranteed to rejuvenate the jaded Or your money back, no worries. Orlok will fly again to pursue The pleasures of the flesh And especially the botty-zone.
0
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 12:24 PM UTC
The Terrible Doom of the Great COUNT ORLOK
Number 7 in the ORLOK series and one of the best O how I relish the taste of blood ****** out from the devastated jugular But there is more, much more When the victim is a nubile **** From a Transylvanian village Where ****** morality Is quite ******* thin on the ground; And that is how I met my fate. 'Twas on an October eve When I met plump Esmeralda And (having fed my fill from her neck as she slept in her hut under filthy rags stinking of stale ***** I sank my fangs into her naked belly Ripping into her bloated guts With my accustomed gusto; My tongue slurping its way Over her twitching **** And finally I descended joyously To her odorous spunk-encrusted ***** For the last rites, Before the final curtain To her worthless life of peasantry. But then, as my excitement mounted, And just as I was on the verge Of pumping out my vampiric ******* I felt an agonising, mind-blasting pain As a major stroke swept through me, Wrecking my synapses big time, Turning my brain into guacamole. And now I am a crippled ****** Just a spasticated old vampire In my second-hand rusting wheelchair, Courtesy of Romanian Social Services, Drooling helplessly Into my swollen pissy crotch, Waiting for another enema, My sole remaining pleasure And a stimulus to my jaded prostate. But, hurrah! hurrah! new hope arrives: A miracle occurs as I read of The new wonder pill from SuperDrug Available only in private practise And guaranteed to rejuvenate the jaded Or your money back, no worries. Orlok will fly again to pursue The pleasures of the flesh And especially the botty-zone.
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Tingly under the daisies; Glassy-eyed, glazed, greasy; Shaking, shivering, shuddering, Wishing, wandering, whimpering, Westernizing— Romanizing— Constitutionalizing— Institutionalizing— Perpetually searching And dying And living, Watching Death survive And scythe the frolickers, The prancers, The rompers, The merrymakers. A rose clamped between his Grinning teeth glistens brightly, And he dances so joyously. “Yes!” say the naysayers, Confused are the soothsayers, Lost are the cartographers. Oh, Utopia! The monks are extravagant; The meditations are a farce! The preachers are beggars And swindlers and chargers, And Machiavelli fulfills his wishes! Babies are stillborn, stabbed, and Ritualistically sacrificed, And their blood is spilled, drunk, Slathered over the ***** man. The evangelists scream and lie: “You are all predestined to die!” Oh, hail Utopia! Wedded are the girls to the girls; Wedded are the boys to the boys; Wedded is Death to Death, Life to Life, And Life to Death. Wedded are the living to the existent. And the milking babes are slaughtered Ceremoniously, Surreptitiously, Ostentatiously. Oh, hail great Utopia! We are all dead and unintelligent: Laugh, laugh, Einstein, at your Stupidity. Laugh, laugh, Temple Grandin at Your retardation. Laugh, laugh, laugh! Look at the sluggard, thou ant; Look at the boy, sobbing wolf; Aesop was drunk, Aristotle was delusional, Michelangelo was blind, Beethoven could hear, Poe was sane. And I can't read. They ramble, I watch. They sleep, I watch. They dream, I watch. They sleep-talk, I watch. They scream, I watch. They choke, I watch. They suffocate, I watch. Stone-faced, I stare; Raspingly, I breathe; Uncontrollably, I twitch; Inwardly, I rage. I hope you die, I hope you die. I hope you bleed, I hope you die. I want you begging and crying, I want you blubbering at my feet, I want you gnashing at my ankles, I want you writhing in pain, I want your arm twisted off, Cracking with the snapping sinews, I want your beating heart in my hands, I want your genitals uprooted and stuffed in your throat, I want your stomach so I can eat the still-digesting food, I want your shrunken head and I want to force my thumbs into your unblinking eyes and I want to tear your face in two and I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, to die, to die, to die, to die, to die, to die, to die, to die, to die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die.
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Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 9:47 PM UTC
Utopia
Tingly under the daisies; Glassy-eyed, glazed, greasy; Shaking, shivering, shuddering, Wishing, wandering, whimpering, Westernizing— Romanizing— Constitutionalizing— Institutionalizing— Perpetually searching And dying And living, Watching Death survive And scythe the frolickers, The prancers, The rompers, The merrymakers. A rose clamped between his Grinning teeth glistens brightly, And he dances so joyously. “Yes!” say the naysayers, Confused are the soothsayers, Lost are the cartographers. Oh, Utopia! The monks are extravagant; The meditations are a farce! The preachers are beggars And swindlers and chargers, And Machiavelli fulfills his wishes! Babies are stillborn, stabbed, and Ritualistically sacrificed, And their blood is spilled, drunk, Slathered over the ***** man. The evangelists scream and lie: “You are all predestined to die!” Oh, hail Utopia! Wedded are the girls to the girls; Wedded are the boys to the boys; Wedded is Death to Death, Life to Life, And Life to Death. Wedded are the living to the existent. And the milking babes are slaughtered Ceremoniously, Surreptitiously, Ostentatiously. Oh, hail great Utopia! We are all dead and unintelligent: Laugh, laugh, Einstein, at your Stupidity. Laugh, laugh, Temple Grandin at Your retardation. Laugh, laugh, laugh! Look at the sluggard, thou ant; Look at the boy, sobbing wolf; Aesop was drunk, Aristotle was delusional, Michelangelo was blind, Beethoven could hear, Poe was sane. And I can't read. They ramble, I watch. They sleep, I watch. They dream, I watch. They sleep-talk, I watch. They scream, I watch. They choke, I watch. They suffocate, I watch. Stone-faced, I stare; Raspingly, I breathe; Uncontrollably, I twitch; Inwardly, I rage. I hope you die, I hope you die. I hope you bleed, I hope you die. I want you begging and crying, I want you blubbering at my feet, I want you gnashing at my ankles, I want you writhing in pain, I want your arm twisted off, Cracking with the snapping sinews, I want your beating heart in my hands, I want your genitals uprooted and stuffed in your throat, I want your stomach so I can eat the still-digesting food, I want your shrunken head and I want to force my thumbs into your unblinking eyes and I want to tear your face in two and I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, to die, to die, to die, to die, to die, to die, to die, to die, to die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die.
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86
_Marge_ retrogrades lazily towards the hills; Her name, printed the width of her cab-over dinette In crinkled cobalt cursive, Totters eccentrically as her handbrake fails. SNAP-AP Oblivious to errant camper vans (and centripetal forces in general), Barney speeds maniacally along a deserted city street; Golden coated and joyously poochie, His tongue flabbers as fast as his bicycle courier dad can pedal. SNAP-AP-AP Mr Blue buys buckets at Bunnings To match his cerulean suit and shinier-than-shiney satin shirt; Periwinkle rhinestone shoes carry him unabashedly passed the second glances and sideways looks; There goes the best dressed DIY-er in town…don’t ya know. SNAP-AP-AP-AP
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Apr 5, 2022
Apr 5, 2022 at 7:01 PM UTC
Antigua Street Photography
Jackrabbits jetting joyously through Juneberries. Jovial jumpers.
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Sep 29, 2025
Sep 29, 2025 at 1:14 PM UTC
J is for Joy
VI. TO APHRODITE (21 lines) (ll. 1-18) I will sing of stately Aphrodite, gold-crowned and beautiful, whose dominion is the walled cities of all sea-set Cyprus. There the moist breath of the western wind wafted her over the waves of the loud-moaning sea in soft foam, and there the gold-filleted Hours welcomed her joyously. They clothed her with heavenly garments: on her head they put a fine, well-wrought crown of gold, and in her pierced ears they hung ornaments of orichalc and precious gold, and adorned her with golden necklaces over her soft neck and snow-white ******* jewels which the gold- filleted Hours wear themselves whenever they go to their father's house to join the lovely dances of the gods. And when they had fully decked her, they brought her to the gods, who welcomed her when they saw her, giving her their hands. Each one of them prayed that he might lead her home to be his wedded wife, so greatly were they amazed at the beauty of violet-crowned Cytherea. (ll. 19-21) Hail, sweetly-winning, coy-eyed goddess! Grant that I may gain the victory in this contest, and order you my song. And now I will remember you and another song also.
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2.3k
The Homeric Hymns: 6- To Aphrodite
It was a night of music softly playing, listlessly upon the bed I was laying, Lying awake with toss and turns without subtle hints of a snore… And whilst this time my eyes did wander, avoiding the lids they should be under, Suddenly as I was under, under the spell of consciousness I could not ignore… “No, this cannot be,” I whispered, “this insomnia I cannot ignore; Awake I lied, sleeping never more. The clock soon read the 30th minute of two, and it was now that I knew As I stares bleakly to the scuffled patterns of my feet on the carpet floor, I tried to rise up from bed in hopes to gain; fatigue made that attempt in vain. My eyes wrought forth tears from burning pain, the nightly air made them sore… The darkness of the night air now silent but dry has left them burning sore, Craving the sleep that comes never more. My blanket held the rustling of my body so violently tussling In anger—such anger that the blanket had suddenly tore; And so now I laid there, with fluff of stuffing my blanket was ‘bleeding’, “I fear that this must be the sleep I’ll crave, yet ignore, For it seems odd this craving my body would so deviously ignore." Still awake I lied, craving sleep ever more. Restless I turned to my side, when then my eyes grew joyously wide, “I had forgotten,” said I. “Cure for restless sleep, this bottle does implore"; Unfortunately, I took some previously- the limit to such an aid is a pity, And the clock had struck three, three hours I am forced to ignore, "Oh, the sleep that I needed…” I mourned softly on the time I had to ignore. “I want sleep and nothing more!” All the time I laid staring, the darkness faded, the sun now glaring; Forcing a retreat of the darkness covering the scuffled patterns on the carpet floor. A dawn’s glow shined with brilliance, against my eyes so red and resilient, The sleep, once again a night of rest I craved for my body, so weary and sore, For the sake of my eyesight now the sun’s gleam had made ever so sore “Sigh, ‘tis another fortnight I sleep never more.” © 2011
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Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 4:30 PM UTC
Sleep Never More (An Insomniatic Parody of Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Raven”)
It was a night of music softly playing, listlessly upon the bed I was laying, Lying awake with toss and turns without subtle hints of a snore… And whilst this time my eyes did wander, avoiding the lids they should be under, Suddenly as I was under, under the spell of consciousness I could not ignore… “No, this cannot be,” I whispered, “this insomnia I cannot ignore; Awake I lied, sleeping never more. The clock soon read the 30th minute of two, and it was now that I knew As I stares bleakly to the scuffled patterns of my feet on the carpet floor, I tried to rise up from bed in hopes to gain; fatigue made that attempt in vain. My eyes wrought forth tears from burning pain, the nightly air made them sore… The darkness of the night air now silent but dry has left them burning sore, Craving the sleep that comes never more. My blanket held the rustling of my body so violently tussling In anger—such anger that the blanket had suddenly tore; And so now I laid there, with fluff of stuffing my blanket was ‘bleeding’, “I fear that this must be the sleep I’ll crave, yet ignore, For it seems odd this craving my body would so deviously ignore." Still awake I lied, craving sleep ever more. Restless I turned to my side, when then my eyes grew joyously wide, “I had forgotten,” said I. “Cure for restless sleep, this bottle does implore"; Unfortunately, I took some previously- the limit to such an aid is a pity, And the clock had struck three, three hours I am forced to ignore, "Oh, the sleep that I needed…” I mourned softly on the time I had to ignore. “I want sleep and nothing more!” All the time I laid staring, the darkness faded, the sun now glaring; Forcing a retreat of the darkness covering the scuffled patterns on the carpet floor. A dawn’s glow shined with brilliance, against my eyes so red and resilient, The sleep, once again a night of rest I craved for my body, so weary and sore, For the sake of my eyesight now the sun’s gleam had made ever so sore “Sigh, ‘tis another fortnight I sleep never more.” © 2011
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31
True Love is bliss, it's not just a kiss It's sad this truth in life we miss We sing and we dance And we enjoy the romance But the bliss and the peace of True Love we miss What is Love, seems a strange question to ask Falling in Love is a very easy task When somebody makes your heart dance And you feel the romance Life becomes beautiful and you live in that trance Haven't you seen kids loving their mom and dad? Friendship too is Love, it's not just a fad When there is Love, there is bliss Love is not just a passionate kiss There are many different types of Love in fact It's sad that people think *** is Love Even without *** you can be hand in glove With True Love, two become one Yes, True Love is a lot of fun It's happiness that takes you far above When we speak of True Love, what exactly is meant? In ignorance of True Love, our life is spent True Love is really magic That we miss it, is tragic True Love is a gift that is God sent Love is Love, but True Love is bliss It is not just *** it is not just a kiss True Love is something great But it is not everybody's fate It is sad though we live, this treasure we miss True Love is not just of body and mind True Love is not something which the heart can find What is our Goal? Find True Love in the Soul Then in True Love you will find two Souls will bind With True Love you find that two become one There are no disagreements and life becomes fun When 'you' and 'me' become 'us' Then there is no more fuss And the treasure of True Love in life is won The Greeks called Eros, the Love of passion But Agape was True Love that was their mission True Love was not just physical And neither intellectual or emotional True Love was to make Godly Love the obsession If Love is so beautiful then why do we cry? Why do lovers fight and then question why? Because there is Love But there is no True Love The beauty of Love very soon does die What makes you think that Love is a kiss? What makes you believe that romance is bliss? When you give away your heart And you see it's torn apart Then you realize that you made a miss When you realize True Love in the Soul There is peace in the Heart, and joy is whole And you see beyond the skin And you Love the one within Then you have found True Love, your very life goal In True Love, you are compassionate and kind, you give True Love is such that you always forgive True Love makes one free And you live joyously It is with True Love that one can truly live True Love is a Divine Rainbow with Colours Seven Colours that burst from White and make you feel you are in Heaven It is the Love of Body and Mind The Love of Heart and Soul True Love is Divine, it takes you to Cloud Eleven It's time to stop and True Love to find To go beyond body and to go beyond mind True Love is in the Soul What is the ultimate goal? To discover True Love and put everything else behind True Love is Spiritual, True Love is Divine True Love is more ******** than *** and wine True Love transcends the heart And goes deep within the Soul True Love is loving God and making life whole When you discover True Love, you smile all the while For you see the Divine, everywhere, all the time You see beyond body, you see beyond mind When True Love in every Soul you find True Love makes life blissful, True Love we must find
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Sep 24, 2019
Sep 24, 2019 at 8:16 AM UTC
True Love is Bliss Not Just a Kiss
True Love is bliss, it's not just a kiss It's sad this truth in life we miss We sing and we dance And we enjoy the romance But the bliss and the peace of True Love we miss What is Love, seems a strange question to ask Falling in Love is a very easy task When somebody makes your heart dance And you feel the romance Life becomes beautiful and you live in that trance Haven't you seen kids loving their mom and dad? Friendship too is Love, it's not just a fad When there is Love, there is bliss Love is not just a passionate kiss There are many different types of Love in fact It's sad that people think *** is Love Even without *** you can be hand in glove With True Love, two become one Yes, True Love is a lot of fun It's happiness that takes you far above When we speak of True Love, what exactly is meant? In ignorance of True Love, our life is spent True Love is really magic That we miss it, is tragic True Love is a gift that is God sent Love is Love, but True Love is bliss It is not just *** it is not just a kiss True Love is something great But it is not everybody's fate It is sad though we live, this treasure we miss True Love is not just of body and mind True Love is not something which the heart can find What is our Goal? Find True Love in the Soul Then in True Love you will find two Souls will bind With True Love you find that two become one There are no disagreements and life becomes fun When 'you' and 'me' become 'us' Then there is no more fuss And the treasure of True Love in life is won The Greeks called Eros, the Love of passion But Agape was True Love that was their mission True Love was not just physical And neither intellectual or emotional True Love was to make Godly Love the obsession If Love is so beautiful then why do we cry? Why do lovers fight and then question why? Because there is Love But there is no True Love The beauty of Love very soon does die What makes you think that Love is a kiss? What makes you believe that romance is bliss? When you give away your heart And you see it's torn apart Then you realize that you made a miss When you realize True Love in the Soul There is peace in the Heart, and joy is whole And you see beyond the skin And you Love the one within Then you have found True Love, your very life goal In True Love, you are compassionate and kind, you give True Love is such that you always forgive True Love makes one free And you live joyously It is with True Love that one can truly live True Love is a Divine Rainbow with Colours Seven Colours that burst from White and make you feel you are in Heaven It is the Love of Body and Mind The Love of Heart and Soul True Love is Divine, it takes you to Cloud Eleven It's time to stop and True Love to find To go beyond body and to go beyond mind True Love is in the Soul What is the ultimate goal? To discover True Love and put everything else behind True Love is Spiritual, True Love is Divine True Love is more ******** than *** and wine True Love transcends the heart And goes deep within the Soul True Love is loving God and making life whole When you discover True Love, you smile all the while For you see the Divine, everywhere, all the time You see beyond body, you see beyond mind When True Love in every Soul you find True Love makes life blissful, True Love we must find
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Jolly antlers Curling happily like fingers do Adornment of a stranger's imagination Funny toothless braying A beautiful accompaniment to the white rocks "Ting ting" The bell strung from your neck joyously speaks your odd truth Tender plodding of new hooves, The scabs of your retelling leave their own interpretation of your metamorphosis You may be reconfigured But you are complete My little reindeer
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Jul 8, 2021
Jul 8, 2021 at 12:26 AM UTC
Christmas Spirit
Symphony of heavens blasted joyously, Even the angels triumphantly sang "Seerie" Endless dew drops of hypnotizing colors Ribbons and laces scattered at earthly doors Intricate emotions made way to beauty so true Eden at its best when dear God created you.
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Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 3:27 AM UTC
For My Goddaughter (2)
There was a story hanging there from the edge of my bed but its teller I didn't want to know so the story went unsaid I thought I could ignor you hanging there leave you to gently be but after days you're still there I'll admit you terrorise me You crawl in through my eyelids to my otherwise peaceful dreams you mock me as your silence seems to amplify my screams and they keep on getting louder because I keep them locked inside and so they rage right through me until everything I once was has died They ***** my dignity disemboweled my calm tortured vociferously my very entity after knawing through the logical side of my brain so that the only part remaining is the part that is insane Now as I swing from side to side from the rope you've spun for me I see you joyously scurry by maybe we're both now finally free And from my perch in heaven If I ever look back down I look at you and reflect that I'd have done it differently second time round I'd definetly heard you're story I'd have given it a chance maybe we could have been great friends and we could sing and laugh and dance There's plenty of your kind in heaven and they're all great dancers too I regret I didn't know you before but now I look forward to meeting you
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Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 6:54 AM UTC
Spider
The adrenaline is pumping through my veins at critical levels. I thought my heart had wings; it soared so high. It skipped one beat, two beats, three. It did a jig and danced right out of my chest. You caught it. I looked down at my heart. It was beating happily in your hands. I suddenly realized that I was holding your heart and it was joyously keeping time to the beat of my heart. I feared that I would drop it or squeeze it or harm it in any way and I wondered is this what love really is?
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Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 11:05 PM UTC
Beats
each moment is golden not to be squandered on worry that is to say action from a good heart is all with a good heart as a foundation then spontaneous action will be kind to people be for a greater good or just express love without fear, suspicion or rivalry then moments will count and a person can be joyously light living in gratitude of each golden moment
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May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 1:48 AM UTC
golden moments ...
Piacular restitution suffering joyously The fallen order of Lilith; Sunsets secrets scribed defying Laws pneumatic A shamanistic seance peacefully Rousing the foundation of our belief, Dawns dreaming the fantasy of a seer- Palpitating asystolic within my chest The severed hand of God; twilights truth A stone tablet descrying My impetuous insubordination Breathing light upon a black lily My souls flayed flesh tear stained white Descending into Hades Unfathomable regions of despair As I watch them kneel beside my bed As if I am prey for those who pray for me Walking through Persephones garden. ELEETE J MUIR.
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Jan 13, 2012
Jan 13, 2012 at 9:50 AM UTC
Morphean Oneiromancy