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"kinships" poems
Amid the verbose magicians Seeking kinships And sailing deep into their arduous mists Watching them peddle their afternoon To a handful of smiling children holding their breath Amazed in gentle body trick The older men of age Leaning deep into their creased chins Stroking the grizzled fat Blinding light of soul Staring down the barrel of life Striking the enemy one last time And yet smiling sober, Met of match, taking care of their kids. Then there's the cold-clocked dudes On the phone pushing buttons In a button-up raglan Lost indistinct the promised land The golden shores swept away by inconvenient time Left shopping in an auto mall "Won't you look at the time?" 7.07 APR Boy what a steal! And Steve maddened and screamed As the lines blurred instinctual between opposing teams And the oven dinged a great alabaster slant Leaning towards the new millenitants Rise up! ***** the wheel Turn the axel from pistons To alkaline metal And doubt with great monumental Quality That the machine borders all And we cannot retreat And while I sift bouyantly between the waves Searching the puzzle piece within the molecules Reconnecting with the things And representing dreams on a 66 hertz screen I call rather failing Towards a black rocked shore Towards the sweet Dorigen Of my dreams Finding an integral of time And space And calculating the intangible slope Of my desmise With the imaginary constiutent Of that lighted mind.
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Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 4:24 PM UTC
Where are my shores
Would anyone really care, If I vanished without a trace? If my screams echoed the hallways, If briny tears stained my face? Everyone is bonded so strongly, How can I join these ties? Will I always be an outsider, Seen as nothing more than a fly? What am I doing wrong? Can you help me understand? Do I not deserve your kinships, What’s wrong with who I am? *I want for someone to care, To catch me if I fall. Because if no one cares about you, Do you exist at all?*
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Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 8:28 AM UTC
What am I doing wrong?
Living in the country. On a simple country road. Is truly the place to be. Don't matter the size of the town. People just let you be. The air is less polluted. Like in most big city. Not that I'm putting them down. But, while we're country. We just act a little silly. While city's folks acts like clowns. We might not have a lot of crime. We do have the best scenery. But sometimes the country folks gets wild. You might say. That we are about the same. Have you ever notice? The way certain kinships would love to trade places. And We think we're better than one another. I guess we are simple kissin' cousins.
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Aug 4, 2012
Aug 4, 2012 at 8:58 AM UTC
Simply Kissin' Cousin
I dipped my hands in the volume of an immense love, once, when time had not yet folded my spine and it taught me that even kinships born of so little as a lost word or an early sentiment are written on us, and in us, and their existence never quite erased. I have dreamed of being a tiny cutter clearing the ruined towers peering from your open surf, the ancient arches easing from the waves. My ship's skeleton leasing its buoyancy from the mercy of the tide - I became so much flotsam at that structures' side. This burning question put to paper hearts, consumed so hotly tall dreams and false starts. It ate us up, and left behind it, ash - the ink left on us, as before it passed. Commitments so quickly and easily made burst with the heat of a gentle grenade. Left in the wasteland, so brittle the fuse - we burned all the quicker with nothing to lose.
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Feb 23, 2010
Feb 23, 2010 at 10:47 AM UTC
For Fear of Kindling
I owe a great deal To the friends I hardly knew For granting me memories Of happiness and adventure I thought possible only in dream To laughter with each meal Heartfelt tears in Shanghai grew Sprouting lifetimes of stories Of a fantasy Against all odd To the tunes of Parisian melody Boasting a Holy Romantic seal Beyond what possibly may seem To the friends I hardly knew May life smile on you Bring you fortunes And faithful kinships To aid you when we part Know what I say is true From the run through Thai dew And admiration of tropical art It is but I thank you From the truest extents of my heart Though lost in Dublin street Even though we may again never meet From the highest of Highlands We will never truly part
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Apr 11, 2018
Apr 11, 2018 at 10:20 PM UTC
To The Friends I Hardly Knew
Bones Wilt Wake Moans Shalt Scrape Heavens empire!!! Laughs wilt be squeels Wheels shalt  turn dust Babies wilt get no thirst The ***** will loose their **** Mothers shalt betray husbandman Fathers to turn to housemaiden Keepers will secretly watch As secrets do liveth here!!! Gangsters Shalt turn to God Good boys will turn devlish Both becoming one as mobs Notorious grubs!! Excitement They'll get by anarchy imprisonment Delightment Shalt be their worldly knowledge and kinships Undertakers!!! Open Turned shy Dead Arrise Blue To black skies As zombie robot moribunds they'll be Whilst at their own funerals!!!
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Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 8:36 PM UTC
Grubbers
Mountains on mountains it's all uphill from here I was afraid of heights but you never let anything limit me Holding hands at the crack of dawn to sight see Why is it so easy to fall One slip up and we're gone I value kinships across regions but I think the tectonic folding image of value is you on my mind Never envisioned that our fun could be left behind Drastic climate changes at this altitude leaves me to believe we're unprepared How strong is the feeling on this sensitive terrain Maybe if I jump rather than fall we will have something to gain
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Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 2:55 AM UTC
Mountains