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"keenest" poems
Our hearts and souls were so blessed to fast Ramadan sincerely To be enlightened by its super mercy and extreme prosperity purity abiding around my heart, kindling my every part a gift from Allah came along to bless our hearts to spread peace and love, to dig faith in each part A blessed bounty to wipe away our tears to zest our souls and vanish our fears to sparkle with faith with our keenest beliefs and twinkle light in our bright smiles oh dear eid, you can't help it but sowing seeds of joy, Capturing joy and happiness in every single countenance , of a child's enthusiastic joy kindling a thriving inner radiance joining hearts and souls with the deepest crystals of love revealing such a fancy artistic touch of a peaceful dove feeling the gratitude for Allah's super merciful blessings praying to pluck the roses of peace each single moment pounding hearts of affliction and yearning missing your everlasting passion getting sick of poisoning yearning for their peaceful deliverance to catch glimpses of happiness that once has been hunted by a sudden death of a loving part of soul until Allah will send a cheerful hope, just be patience to get over all the mope smile and share the joy of eid and love , work even harder to cherish the heaven above ....
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Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 8:12 PM UTC
Eid's faithful whispers
Let those who will of friendship sing, And to its guerdon grateful be, But I a lyric garland bring To crown thee, O, mine enemy! Thanks, endless thanks, to thee I owe For that my lifelong journey through Thine honest hate has done for me What love perchance had failed to do. I had not scaled such weary heights But that I held thy scorn in fear, And never keenest lure might match The subtle goading of thy sneer. Thine anger struck from me a fire That purged all dull content away, Our mortal strife to me has been Unflagging spur from day to day. And thus, while all the world may laud The gifts of love and loyalty, I lay my meed of gratitude Before thy feet, mine enemy!
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11k
To My Enemy
While the snow reveals its keenest love for the sun ; Its snowflakes start to dance and  it melts with blush ...
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Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 2:24 PM UTC
Blushed Snow :$
You ran I ran Faster than light, Invisible to the keenest human eye We ran towards the safest haven. Almost giddy with excitement Heart fluttering on the Delicate wings of ecstatic butterflies Forsaking everything behind Just you and me We zoomed by, Humans and objects, All just a mélange of colors Hallways went by In the blink of an eye Not yours or mine Just the shrewdest eye Voices called out to us Allies raring to join Teachers frantic to stop Corridors vast enough to dissolve into Stop, came after a long, lingering voyage Breathing in short abundant pants We beheld the eye of each other And in that moment I realized we were more than partners in crime We were, you and me Two friends destined to be In each other’s memory Forever And Ever And ever.
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Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 4:26 AM UTC
Reminiscence : A tribute to my favorite partner in crime.
When the lucent skies of morning flush with dawning rose once more, And waves of golden glory break adown the sunrise shore, And o'er the arch of heaven pied films of vapor float. There's joyance and there's freedom when the fishing boats go out. The wind is blowing freshly up from far, uncharted caves, And sending sparkling kisses o'er the brows of ****** waves, While routed dawn-mists shiver­oh, far and fast they flee, Pierced by the shafts of sunrise athwart the merry sea! Behind us, fair, light-smitten hills in dappled splendor lie, Before us the wide ocean runs to meet the limpid sky­ Our hearts are full of poignant life, and care has fled afar As sweeps the white-winged fishing fleet across the harbor bar. [Page 35] The sea is calling to us in a blithesome voice and free, There's keenest rapture on its breast and boundless liberty! Each man is master of his craft, its gleaming sails out-blown, And far behind him on the shore a home he calls his own. Salt is the breath of ocean slopes and fresher blows the breeze, And swifter still each bounding keel cuts through the combing seas, Athwart our masts the shadows of the dipping sea-gulls float, And all the water-world's alive when the fishing boats go out.
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2.6k
When the Fishing Boats Go Out
And now emerges white bits of sunshine; Eyes urged to wake, and tongues to pray; To Lord of the worlds and of nights and days; That we be pure in the heart and mind; Feet saileth lower amongst one another; With such admiration that lasts forever; Faithful heads bow and touch the pious floor; Pearls of rewards doubling behind the door. And His beauty is deeper than solace; More luminous than desire and grace; He asks for love, chastity, and firm abstinence; He longs for faith, modesty, and true penitence. Praises and glory are floated to Allah; Mouths recite and phrase la ilaha illallah. And claim their very peace upon beloved Muhammad; With dear respect from the deepest roots of hearts. Winds might blow and grass might be green; But we fear still, the restless Might of the Unseen; He who watches and renders all our affairs; He who breathes our blood and strands of our hair; And do fear Him and seek His Abode; For we shall cease and retreat to our Lord; As this earth fades, where His end starts therefrom; And sees our deeds since we dwelled in mothers' wombs; But Allah is ever fair, filial, and loving; He is the Keenest, and the Most Heroic king; He rules perfectly the East and the West; He listens to what flows within every chest; And He is All-Forgiving and ever Merciful; He is swift to both the living and the dead; He relieves tears of the believing souls; He lives and sparks, within our very breath. And He is but ecstatic like the rainbow; Nothing is more countable than His tomorrow; His Warm Hands are what we all rush for; His Words are a poem, like never before.
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Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 6:01 PM UTC
Fajr
And now emerges white bits of sunshine; Eyes urged to wake, and tongues to pray; To Lord of the worlds and of nights and days; That we be pure in the heart and mind; Feet saileth lower amongst one another; With such admiration that lasts forever; Faithful heads bow and touch the pious floor; Pearls of rewards doubling behind the door. And His beauty is deeper than solace; More luminous than desire and grace; He asks for love, chastity, and firm abstinence; He longs for faith, modesty, and true penitence. Praises and glory are floated to Allah; Mouths recite and phrase la ilaha illallah. And claim their very peace upon beloved Muhammad; With dear respect from the deepest roots of hearts. Winds might blow and grass might be green; But we fear still, the restless Might of the Unseen; He who watches and renders all our affairs; He who breathes our blood and strands of our hair; And do fear Him and seek His Abode; For we shall cease and retreat to our Lord; As this earth fades, where His end starts therefrom; And sees our deeds since we dwelled in mothers' wombs; But Allah is ever fair, filial, and loving; He is the Keenest, and the Most Heroic king; He rules perfectly the East and the West; He listens to what flows within every chest; And He is All-Forgiving and ever Merciful; He is swift to both the living and the dead; He relieves tears of the believing souls; He lives and sparks, within our very breath. And He is but ecstatic like the rainbow; Nothing is more countable than His tomorrow; His Warm Hands are what we all rush for; His Words are a poem, like never before.
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36
As a teenage boy I used to fall asleep at night listening to the graveled voice of Ernie Harwell fashion for me word-images of the exploits by a band of superheroes called the Detroit Tigers. In those semi-lucid moments before slumber, I could see the shimmering outline of my destiny: you see all American boys are meant to be Tigers. So imagine my confusion, when I fractured the right talus bone my Junior year of high school, even putting on weight around the middle, where no athlete worth his pin stripes would gain. My karma had begun to take on mass. I began to acquire knowledge, as the only perceived defense against some parallel universe impinging upon reality. Oh, I had everyone convinced, even my keenest teachers believed I was destined to make my mark in scholarly pursuits. But no one saw the crying ego of one meant to be a Tiger, nor how that bottled up the emergence of the Man. Never reconciled, the Man curled up in fetal dormancy. Lifespan became synonymous with interstellar drift. And every encountered star of knowlege was dwarfed, having long ago collapsed of its own gravity. Still the heavens of knowledge are auspicious, so I looked outward, when all the answers lay concealed within. Only as my life left the outskirts of occluded reality did I then begin to inherit from my instinctual id, begin to listen to disconsolate internal voices, who had known me all along, perhaps better than myself. The thing is ... the stage has long been set on middle-age, what props lie about are encrusted with patina, laden with a dust impossible to gauge or preempt, made worse by the lack of cast, save one. Neither Beckett, nor Pinter, could have absurded this. So, when my acts strike you as quixotic, when I cut with a penknife through propriety, it's because I finally remember what it meant to be a Tiger.
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Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 7:15 PM UTC
We All Die Unhealed
As a teenage boy I used to fall asleep at night listening to the graveled voice of Ernie Harwell fashion for me word-images of the exploits by a band of superheroes called the Detroit Tigers. In those semi-lucid moments before slumber, I could see the shimmering outline of my destiny: you see all American boys are meant to be Tigers. So imagine my confusion, when I fractured the right talus bone my Junior year of high school, even putting on weight around the middle, where no athlete worth his pin stripes would gain. My karma had begun to take on mass. I began to acquire knowledge, as the only perceived defense against some parallel universe impinging upon reality. Oh, I had everyone convinced, even my keenest teachers believed I was destined to make my mark in scholarly pursuits. But no one saw the crying ego of one meant to be a Tiger, nor how that bottled up the emergence of the Man. Never reconciled, the Man curled up in fetal dormancy. Lifespan became synonymous with interstellar drift. And every encountered star of knowlege was dwarfed, having long ago collapsed of its own gravity. Still the heavens of knowledge are auspicious, so I looked outward, when all the answers lay concealed within. Only as my life left the outskirts of occluded reality did I then begin to inherit from my instinctual id, begin to listen to disconsolate internal voices, who had known me all along, perhaps better than myself. The thing is ... the stage has long been set on middle-age, what props lie about are encrusted with patina, laden with a dust impossible to gauge or preempt, made worse by the lack of cast, save one. Neither Beckett, nor Pinter, could have absurded this. So, when my acts strike you as quixotic, when I cut with a penknife through propriety, it's because I finally remember what it meant to be a Tiger.
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36
Thy lips of espresso gold, Convey to me, Your desperado untold. Thine eyes for your own, Merriest of forbidden Pleasures, To hold. Your supple smile upon Thine own, Reveal. Amidst only To conjure, To conceal. Parlay, if I may, To implore The keenest sense Of your fulfillment, I adore. Gently now, our merriment. . . Embarking upon salutation. No more our desire, Of infatuation?
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Apr 3, 2010
Apr 3, 2010 at 2:45 AM UTC
Espresso Gold
8 There is a word Which bears a sword Can pierce an armed man— It hurls its barbed syllables And is mute again— But where it fell The saved will tell On patriotic day, Some epauletted Brother Gave his breath away. Wherever runs the breathless sun— Wherever roams the day— There is its noiseless onset— There is its victory! Behold the keenest marksman! The most accomplished shot! Time’s sublimest target Is a soul “forgot!”
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2.3k
There is a word
When the night is here ,and all the eyes are asleep Mine refuse to close,I crave to taste your meeting I lose myself and regret my sins My spirit starts to mingle in faith My soul states Allah's super vision His miracles , His super power and holy pure love I yearn for that special corner which gets perfumed by my sincere tears Yet,I yearn for it with extreme heartiness I start yelling to His majesty , expressing my situations well aware that He know more than I actually do ! Keenest in my heart! I do feel His mercy In that corner , I feel my faith's warmth and I feel your closeness for that you're closer that the vein ! And when I gather my feelings with sacred rain and perfume my mouth with your holy presence fragrance I get overwhelmed with the deepest purest emotions of relaxing ! and my heart is wondering and regretting ! "how much I lost from my life like this night ! " In your presence , Time passes sweeter than honey and prettier than roses !! Than my tears start pouring like rains ,mixed with regret salt and happiness sugar of such moments !! A sudden shadow sends me arrows of pain and roses of hope ! I start calling upon you with a shaking heart ! Oh my LORD ! I came with regret! I'm repenting to you ! Forgive me my lord ! I seek your mercy ! I have no one but you ! I run from you towards you ! whenever I remember a sin that I've committed !I get burned with the deepest shame and vexation ! i get melted ,I kneel and bite my fingers' nails from regret and sorrows ... Ya Allah , you are the most beneficent , the most merciful ! please ,hear my call ,guide me to the straight path and forgive me for I'm a week slave of yours :") Forgive me ...
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Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 8:22 PM UTC
❤️ yearning to meet you ❤
When the night is here ,and all the eyes are asleep Mine refuse to close,I crave to taste your meeting I lose myself and regret my sins My spirit starts to mingle in faith My soul states Allah's super vision His miracles , His super power and holy pure love I yearn for that special corner which gets perfumed by my sincere tears Yet,I yearn for it with extreme heartiness I start yelling to His majesty , expressing my situations well aware that He know more than I actually do ! Keenest in my heart! I do feel His mercy In that corner , I feel my faith's warmth and I feel your closeness for that you're closer that the vein ! And when I gather my feelings with sacred rain and perfume my mouth with your holy presence fragrance I get overwhelmed with the deepest purest emotions of relaxing ! and my heart is wondering and regretting ! "how much I lost from my life like this night ! " In your presence , Time passes sweeter than honey and prettier than roses !! Than my tears start pouring like rains ,mixed with regret salt and happiness sugar of such moments !! A sudden shadow sends me arrows of pain and roses of hope ! I start calling upon you with a shaking heart ! Oh my LORD ! I came with regret! I'm repenting to you ! Forgive me my lord ! I seek your mercy ! I have no one but you ! I run from you towards you ! whenever I remember a sin that I've committed !I get burned with the deepest shame and vexation ! i get melted ,I kneel and bite my fingers' nails from regret and sorrows ... Ya Allah , you are the most beneficent , the most merciful ! please ,hear my call ,guide me to the straight path and forgive me for I'm a week slave of yours :") Forgive me ...
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30
He is so special I feel it in his aura There is something about his Energy That makes me want to explore him It was a cold night But his heart is warm So it was only right That his beauty is adorned Although the cycle of perfection Was complete Because flaws don’t exist for imperfections; In his world are obsolete How could I infer all this From a single conversation Nobody knows Expect the Most High above us all She made him a concrete rose His value is so high Because his existence is so real He is somewhere in the sky He is very conscious of how he feels He is so special I feel it in his aura I only talked to him one time And already I want to explore him His energy reminds me Of Aphrodite on Venus Love and beauty In his heart, His mind is the keenest He smiles and I feel at ease Many miles for me to feel the breeze He is so pleasant so calm and So free He is everything I can see In me He is everything a man should be How could I infer all this From a single conversation Nobody knows Expect the Most High above us all He made her a concrete rose He is so special I feel it in his Aura I hope one day I can explore him But this is something That he already knew The best part about it is He knows I’m special too
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Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 4:31 AM UTC
AURA
I don't want to be a speck in this ocean of humanity. I don't want my words to be so small and obscure that even the keenest ear, still, cannot hear. I don't want to be tossed and kicked and shoved about, like the speck I fear I am. The speck that floats & sweeps and glides & sighs - the speck that will never be examined. I breathe. I live. I mean. I am. I don't want to be invisible. --- The world is one big bustle after another - people pushing and shoving, only to sleep and repeat? I am the one you bumped into, in a race to catch the nooner to downtown Detroit. I am the girl you stumbled past, in your rush to catch another cab. I am the flower girl on McKenzie who sold you more marigolds. The waitress at PJ's who asked, "More cream?" The cashier at Aldi's who bagged your Arizona. I am that ticket taker at Cinemark who gave you your stub and genuinely hoped you would enjoy your movie. I am the girl you're seated by, right now. This instant. So close, you can hear her soft breaths; So close, you can nearly smell her perfume; So close, and still... You stand. You gather your things, get off the train, and run off to catch another, what? Bus? Plane? Cab? You're gone. And, I'm here. And, I'm still the girl; The girl who might have been your soulmate. But, you traded me for 15 minutes of silence and a bed you'd sleep in alone. --- I don't want to be a speck in this ocean that is your world. I want to be a boulder. I want to mean something, And be something, And exist to you. So, STOP. I'm here. "Hello."
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Jul 13, 2011
Jul 13, 2011 at 9:15 PM UTC
Hello.
I don't want to be a speck in this ocean of humanity. I don't want my words to be so small and obscure that even the keenest ear, still, cannot hear. I don't want to be tossed and kicked and shoved about, like the speck I fear I am. The speck that floats & sweeps and glides & sighs - the speck that will never be examined. I breathe. I live. I mean. I am. I don't want to be invisible. --- The world is one big bustle after another - people pushing and shoving, only to sleep and repeat? I am the one you bumped into, in a race to catch the nooner to downtown Detroit. I am the girl you stumbled past, in your rush to catch another cab. I am the flower girl on McKenzie who sold you more marigolds. The waitress at PJ's who asked, "More cream?" The cashier at Aldi's who bagged your Arizona. I am that ticket taker at Cinemark who gave you your stub and genuinely hoped you would enjoy your movie. I am the girl you're seated by, right now. This instant. So close, you can hear her soft breaths; So close, you can nearly smell her perfume; So close, and still... You stand. You gather your things, get off the train, and run off to catch another, what? Bus? Plane? Cab? You're gone. And, I'm here. And, I'm still the girl; The girl who might have been your soulmate. But, you traded me for 15 minutes of silence and a bed you'd sleep in alone. --- I don't want to be a speck in this ocean that is your world. I want to be a boulder. I want to mean something, And be something, And exist to you. So, STOP. I'm here. "Hello."
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39
factions warring, numbers dwindling. deceptive, lustful, her body is the keenest weapon. time spent in guise of enemy, she becomes one, is one, has always been one. rebel and free-thinker, turned infiltrator, betrayer. seduced, lulled, a kiss as distraction. a hand embracing body, pulling her closer, driving both weapons through the heart. crimson stains, life flows free, a heretic ****** “In the name of His Ever Vigilance, this one dies alone.”
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Oct 5, 2012
Oct 5, 2012 at 12:24 PM UTC
trials
Once I bore unkempt hair, a crown over a wondering visage. Twas a time of smaller age, when a had nary a care. I was staff-bearing and sword-wielding, princess from times of yore and keeper of lost lore. But my spirit could go only so long unyielding. For there was a mask-wearing weaver of a garish smile who in his guile, had made others a believer-- Of his wicked web of rampant lies. This wretched thief of naivete Left not a shade of perspective grey-- but black, without reprise. What cruel beast of human shape was cast down upon me? And why could others not see but merely question with mouths agape-- At the sins of which he reveled merely for his stature? Yet if done after surely they would have been compelled-- To hear my pleas and punish his evil hand! And then at last I might command my woe from drowning me like all the seas. Alas, twas not as I would hope, you see for fate was most unkind to me though of wrong-doing I had naught. "But why?" I asked "Princesses of yore, and wielders of old lore they know happiness for ever more." To that end I had been masked-- From the truth before my weeping eyes that evil always has its say even on the brightest day, for peace is the keenest of lies. Like he, the villains tall and small, from fiercest orc to goblin whelp, will always find fate's loyal help while heroes are left to fall. That is how it plays on the world's stage I have learned and learned it well that where white snow falls, somewhere else burns a hell. And yet, perhaps this way is not a cage-- To conquer all of worldly ways, For in my time--made wise-- I have come to see with my heart's eyes one for whom this pattern sways. He is a hero brave and strong no prince and no knight no dragon does he fight, yet for him could be written king-worthy song. So perhaps, the wicked do not always prevail, not every time at least--but most-- and get their bitter dose of a taste of what it is to fail.
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Jan 12, 2012
Jan 12, 2012 at 4:17 PM UTC
My Tale
Once I bore unkempt hair, a crown over a wondering visage. Twas a time of smaller age, when a had nary a care. I was staff-bearing and sword-wielding, princess from times of yore and keeper of lost lore. But my spirit could go only so long unyielding. For there was a mask-wearing weaver of a garish smile who in his guile, had made others a believer-- Of his wicked web of rampant lies. This wretched thief of naivete Left not a shade of perspective grey-- but black, without reprise. What cruel beast of human shape was cast down upon me? And why could others not see but merely question with mouths agape-- At the sins of which he reveled merely for his stature? Yet if done after surely they would have been compelled-- To hear my pleas and punish his evil hand! And then at last I might command my woe from drowning me like all the seas. Alas, twas not as I would hope, you see for fate was most unkind to me though of wrong-doing I had naught. "But why?" I asked "Princesses of yore, and wielders of old lore they know happiness for ever more." To that end I had been masked-- From the truth before my weeping eyes that evil always has its say even on the brightest day, for peace is the keenest of lies. Like he, the villains tall and small, from fiercest orc to goblin whelp, will always find fate's loyal help while heroes are left to fall. That is how it plays on the world's stage I have learned and learned it well that where white snow falls, somewhere else burns a hell. And yet, perhaps this way is not a cage-- To conquer all of worldly ways, For in my time--made wise-- I have come to see with my heart's eyes one for whom this pattern sways. He is a hero brave and strong no prince and no knight no dragon does he fight, yet for him could be written king-worthy song. So perhaps, the wicked do not always prevail, not every time at least--but most-- and get their bitter dose of a taste of what it is to fail.
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60
I I heard a small sad sound, And stood awhile among the tombs around: “Wherefore, old friends,” said I, “are you distrest, Now, screened from life’s unrest?” II —”O not at being here; But that our future second death is near; When, with the living, memory of us numbs, And blank oblivion comes! III “These, our sped ancestry, Lie here embraced by deeper death than we; Nor shape nor thought of theirs can you descry With keenest backward eye. IV “They count as quite forgot; They are as men who have existed not; Theirs is a loss past loss of fitful breath; It is the second death. V “We here, as yet, each day Are blest with dear recall; as yet, can say We hold in some soul loved continuance Of shape and voice and glance. VI “But what has been will be— First memory, then oblivion’s swallowing sea; Like men foregone, shall we merge into those Whose story no one knows. VII “For which of us could hope To show in life that world-awakening scope Granted the few whose memory none lets die, But all men magnify? VIII “We were but Fortune’s sport; Things true, things lovely, things of good report We neither shunned nor sought … We see our bourne, And seeing it we mourn.”
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1.4k
The To-Be-Forgotten
Oh, you’re so cute You think you can fix it You think you can find a magic word To make it **** and fly away How about as you writhe and scream You’re not as cute starved half to death Shall I gorge you now On the finest food around? Where are your magic words now, little miss? You’ve lost them, haven’t you Tsk tsk And it’s not yet poofed and flown away. You’re no longer cute, not in the least Do you hate the child you were? The child whose search for magic words Led it right into the eager maw of the world Now you’ve given up each shred of hope Soon I’m sure you’ll rise to my throne of taunts But before you go, so thoroughly beaten There’s one last little thing I must tell you. There was a word It was there all along The abracadabra you sought for so long Now! Away to your kingdom of torture and lies I know you’ll enjoy it, as I have mine And remember that word that you’ll never find For it will inflict on your subjects the keenest pain they’ll ever know.
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May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 6:27 PM UTC
Abracadabra
When I'm with you ! My heart wanders in an endless horizon Dancing between the clouds Smiling  with the colorful butterflies ... Your tears glow in the deepest worlds Of your astonishing glitter mysterious eyes ... Pouring piles of inspiration on your blushed cheeks ... Your eyelashes reveal such a  harmonically merry symphony ... Such a luster and radiance spread all over my heart Once my eyes meet yours and staring in rhyme ... Your sights create such a fascinating art Overwhelming me with your love and slender kindness ... Your love is a special aromatic fragrance A fascinating scent Spreading all over my heart's secret gardens Reveals a special feeling Knocks the keenest gleam of your honest sincere innocent heart ... So grateful is my current state , Finding such an ideal soul mate ...
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Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 6:32 PM UTC
Your Inspiring Eyes
PEREGRINE Swiftest falcon wings keenest sight from highest heights sky-diving arrow. SWALLOWS Raindrops' graceful plumes swift wisps and springs arriving two tail brothers' breeze. CROW Observant shadow pies memorizing faces; jet sharp reaper waits...
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Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 6:11 PM UTC
PEREGRINE / SWALLOWS / CROW (Haiku)
She knew so well, she was broken Grazed by the dark episodes of her life But for a reason not well spoken She bottles up her pretty lies. Too soon, oh Heaven. How do I despair? Should You becalm the sea, why not seemingly fair? Questions and tempest, in just a minute stare All, in a trice, turned out as an awful nightmare Hovering over the memories, hearts are still in pain Tears are carefully hidden, sore wounds she'd rather feign. I knew I wasn't dreaming, but for once I'd like to know. Can we still dream much further despite a losing show? Such a lax image, she tends to portray Religiously, so patiently, she never goes astray At the darkest edges of her discernible universe Beyond our keenest senses, she buries a pitch black curse. Shame on me, my steadfast wishes, I can hardly collect. Another revolution yet; oh, how do I deflect? Like a western avalanche, her days came rolling by As if they're going out of hand, over her head, we can testify She can just give up, or give another shot, no one seems to know But in her mind, she knows just why she was there all from the word go. I know to whom I shall only concede, never to a ruthless battle. Disjoint, unarmed, I could always be; but my faith, no one can throttle. And so the tale of this one staunch damsel never ended wrong She might have had some tough good byes, but that made her strong Cropping out the tragedy from the frame, she tries to recover from drama Star-crossed, perhaps, but not til she stops becoming the one tough Andrea.
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Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 5:11 AM UTC
Andrea
She knew so well, she was broken Grazed by the dark episodes of her life But for a reason not well spoken She bottles up her pretty lies. Too soon, oh Heaven. How do I despair? Should You becalm the sea, why not seemingly fair? Questions and tempest, in just a minute stare All, in a trice, turned out as an awful nightmare Hovering over the memories, hearts are still in pain Tears are carefully hidden, sore wounds she'd rather feign. I knew I wasn't dreaming, but for once I'd like to know. Can we still dream much further despite a losing show? Such a lax image, she tends to portray Religiously, so patiently, she never goes astray At the darkest edges of her discernible universe Beyond our keenest senses, she buries a pitch black curse. Shame on me, my steadfast wishes, I can hardly collect. Another revolution yet; oh, how do I deflect? Like a western avalanche, her days came rolling by As if they're going out of hand, over her head, we can testify She can just give up, or give another shot, no one seems to know But in her mind, she knows just why she was there all from the word go. I know to whom I shall only concede, never to a ruthless battle. Disjoint, unarmed, I could always be; but my faith, no one can throttle. And so the tale of this one staunch damsel never ended wrong She might have had some tough good byes, but that made her strong Cropping out the tragedy from the frame, she tries to recover from drama Star-crossed, perhaps, but not til she stops becoming the one tough Andrea.
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28
Sometimes I get this special mysterious feeling , Sourced from the bottom of my heart And spread all over my hand ... That feeling of the keenest need for writing Yes , I need to hold that pen and start toying with words , Pouring them all over that blank page ... Words start spreading like never before Their letters dancing gently Following the inspiring trills of my heart beats Drawing fascinating picturesque lines Waiting to be born once they are read ... Filling one blank page after the other Seeing the infinite universe opening in my sight Thoughts running , Words laughing, In the terrific nature's gleam and radiance Prevailing such a flimsy slender touch of art ... Need to be drawn, need to be felt Spreading light , inspiring hearts But if I don't hurry !! They will soon loose their power And I'll loose my super feeling ....
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Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 4:12 PM UTC
Blank page addict ...
Stepping up to the edge of the ledge Looking down in a blurry haze even the keenest eyes of the purest soul went blind A macabre recollection of what was to become the destruction of an innocent child Her world on the verge I look to my left I see the condesending grimaces of the people I once loved long since dead with the innocent Child that once was To my right the shadowed distorted almost faceless lovers of life seeking comfort in the lie just to feel alive Morbid smile of the creator Unforgiving mother Screams her wounding words A lullaby filled with atrocious lies Her world on the brink Unforgiving mother with her whip Morbid smiles On trial for a thing called "love"
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Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 1:44 AM UTC
Morbid Smiles..
They doused the lamps and sent the realm into darkness. The purest black we did ever see. No street, nor home, nor lovers eye burnt. Nor did the stars or the keenest minds For they both shone dark. And the realm sat hushed- Silent and revered Round the patter of words that came as rain. As the beat of rain came as poetry. And the realm sat round the new fire.
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Dec 9, 2011
Dec 9, 2011 at 11:11 AM UTC
They doused the lamps...
you’ve been nice you’ve heard me sing and you’ve offered praise for what you like (and ignored me for what you don't) But you mustn’t think you’ve heard me deep or you’ve known me now For it’s always someone else singing depending whose voice was last heard whose blade keenest, whose skills superior who has fingers extending from the murky past You’ve been nice you’ve heard me sing but you mustn’t let me convince you no matter how hard I try it’s me you hear for I’m just a valley of echoes (are we not all?) and a scarecrow over which linger vultures and such scavengers never a thought of mine not an emotion of mine is the subject of my song but the words generations have spun to make myths and radiant lies that I can sing, and you can acquiesce I’m just the voice of conditioning And you too, as you listen and concur we are but our conditionings singing it’s the past singing it’s not me it’s not you though you put a face to it and we put our names to it you’ve been nice you’ve heard me sing and you’ve offered praise for what you like (and ignored me when you don't) but you mustn’t think you’ve heard me deep or you’ve known me now for it’s always someone else singing
0
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 8:30 AM UTC
isn't it someone else singing?
Awash The human spirit defined without a thread to cover their exposed heart loss the keenest revealer Nobility crowns the vanquished they have been driven to the farthest bounds of reason Emptiness has scoured the former land of all existence they stand on the pinnacle they have Reached the zenith of life’s meaning by going to it unspeakable depths every speck of turgid Normalcy so prized gives way to anticline these rarefied heights know not one profane molecule Those lost flew to this point and beyond you followed and now you gaze after them your longing Presents never before known opportunity into this vacuum rushes the budding of purist riches Your life has lost their human presence but you now start the decent marked by sorrow, Loneliness, but with these two painful strangers you have become the wealthiest of human kind Love is the only container that could rightly hold their essence you are given this charge and on These slopes you just turned from their departure and its glory indefinable crowned you burned All impurities up and now the pure raging fire has subsided you see the incorruptible seeds you are now to plant as sure footed as the Doll sheep go now intersperse them among these heights that predate the dawning of time your fellow man waste away looking at the plains and empty Horizon these seeds out of time and personnel loss will dazzle give the influx of immortal Thoughts that will destroy a people’s delusional limited harvest and give them the spring board Of freedom to achieve dreams that before were believed to be impossible this is what I saw in Your tear filled eyes not an end but the birth of hope mother and father and the girls didn’t die in Vain they are the truth shinning as a vision all we have to do is look
0
Jan 7, 2012
Jan 7, 2012 at 6:37 AM UTC
Awash
Awash The human spirit defined without a thread to cover their exposed heart loss the keenest revealer Nobility crowns the vanquished they have been driven to the farthest bounds of reason Emptiness has scoured the former land of all existence they stand on the pinnacle they have Reached the zenith of life’s meaning by going to it unspeakable depths every speck of turgid Normalcy so prized gives way to anticline these rarefied heights know not one profane molecule Those lost flew to this point and beyond you followed and now you gaze after them your longing Presents never before known opportunity into this vacuum rushes the budding of purist riches Your life has lost their human presence but you now start the decent marked by sorrow, Loneliness, but with these two painful strangers you have become the wealthiest of human kind Love is the only container that could rightly hold their essence you are given this charge and on These slopes you just turned from their departure and its glory indefinable crowned you burned All impurities up and now the pure raging fire has subsided you see the incorruptible seeds you are now to plant as sure footed as the Doll sheep go now intersperse them among these heights that predate the dawning of time your fellow man waste away looking at the plains and empty Horizon these seeds out of time and personnel loss will dazzle give the influx of immortal Thoughts that will destroy a people’s delusional limited harvest and give them the spring board Of freedom to achieve dreams that before were believed to be impossible this is what I saw in Your tear filled eyes not an end but the birth of hope mother and father and the girls didn’t die in Vain they are the truth shinning as a vision all we have to do is look
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The red string, a thread so delicate it escapes even the keenest eye, yet so unyielding it binds two souls as one. It stretches through time and space, weaving effortlessly through obstacles in its path. Silent and unseen, it guides a journey meant to be traveled, connecting hearts despite life’s chaos. No matter how far it’s pulled or how tangled it becomes, it never breaks. I’ve brought scissors to mine, once even a knife, tired of the chase, weary from the search. But the thread remains intact, defying every attempt to sever it. It holds fast, enduring the weight of dreams whispered into the night and the long sighs of defeat. Even as my hands tremble, losing their grip, the string stays, steadfast, showing me the way. It unravels knots tied by false connections and leads me back to the path I strayed from. It holds the hands that are destined to find one another, unseen but unbreakable. A love so patient, it waits for its moment to be discovered. So I’ll trust its pull, follow its silent call, and hope it’s leading me to you. Are our red strings intertwined? Do they lead us to each other?
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Jan 6, 2025
Jan 6, 2025 at 4:39 PM UTC
Red String Theory