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"lagniappe" poems
To be imbued with the conviction that empathic listening is a panacea, by the surreptitious, murmurous harbinger and his mellifluous words, provoked brooding that my comprehension of his susurrous eloquence was a mondegreen, when this scintilla of sagacity left a fetching ingenue crestfallen. By the surreptitious, murmurous harbinger and his mellifluous words! I adopted a propinquity to this furtive, ephemeral epiphany, but when this scintilla of sagacity left a fetching ingenue crestfallen, I discerned this lagniappe beleaguered our dalliance. I adopted a propinquity to this furtive, ephemeral epiphany. When she became inured to petrichor I knew my method pyrrhic, and when I discerned that this lagniappe beleaguered our dalliance, I vowed to rectify the imbroglio for my quintessential cynosure. When she became inured to petrichor I knew my method pyrrhic, and I ruminated that her insouciance was only forbearance. I vowed to rectify my quintessential cynosure of the imbroglio, and fabricated a denouement to return her to halcyon incipient. I ruminated that her insouciance was only forbearance, until hearing her state our conflation made each a moiety of our own panoply. She fabricated a denouement to return us to the incipience of halcyon with ineffable felicity, and I remembered with ebullience my inamorata's words. Hearing her state our conflation made each a moiety of our own panoply provoked brooding that my comprehension of her susurrous eloquence was a mondegreen. With ineffable felicity I found ebullience in my inamorata's words and was imbued with the conviction that empathic listening is a panacea.
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Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 4:58 AM UTC
Our own language
To be imbued with the conviction that empathic listening is a panacea, by the surreptitious, murmurous harbinger and his mellifluous words, provoked brooding that my comprehension of his susurrous eloquence was a mondegreen, when this scintilla of sagacity left a fetching ingenue crestfallen. By the surreptitious, murmurous harbinger and his mellifluous words! I adopted a propinquity to this furtive, ephemeral epiphany, but when this scintilla of sagacity left a fetching ingenue crestfallen, I discerned this lagniappe beleaguered our dalliance. I adopted a propinquity to this furtive, ephemeral epiphany. When she became inured to petrichor I knew my method pyrrhic, and when I discerned that this lagniappe beleaguered our dalliance, I vowed to rectify the imbroglio for my quintessential cynosure. When she became inured to petrichor I knew my method pyrrhic, and I ruminated that her insouciance was only forbearance. I vowed to rectify my quintessential cynosure of the imbroglio, and fabricated a denouement to return her to halcyon incipient. I ruminated that her insouciance was only forbearance, until hearing her state our conflation made each a moiety of our own panoply. She fabricated a denouement to return us to the incipience of halcyon with ineffable felicity, and I remembered with ebullience my inamorata's words. Hearing her state our conflation made each a moiety of our own panoply provoked brooding that my comprehension of her susurrous eloquence was a mondegreen. With ineffable felicity I found ebullience in my inamorata's words and was imbued with the conviction that empathic listening is a panacea.
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24
Her syllogisms repose trust in her adept beleaguering of unworthy opponents. Constantly in a state of lassitude for this desultory, inure world of the insouciant youth which dwells upon it's cathartic terrain, she engages not in lachrymose nor is she crestfallen for the hope of romance and it's everlasting ineffability. She is a fugacious moment of frisson embodied in a human form; a juxtaposition of the serendipitous moments that ever constantly come one after the other in a fickle wheel of steep highs and deep lows. All her life, this girl will lilt through the crossroads of her obstacles and show the world the efflorescence of her beauty. Hush don't speak lest you miss hearing the mellifluous music of her voice of fail to hear the lagniappe that is her name. She is the cynosure of human attention, the goddess and we are but her humble servants. She is innocence most rare, love most coveted. She is infinite. She is peace.
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Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 10:25 AM UTC
She walks in callipygous beauty
We were a beleaguered bard born, a chief in chatoyant charms charged with the principle petrichor of passionate paramours; to drive the dainty dalliances of incipient ingénues immured in glamourous gossamer gowns; lilting, lead lissome lads 'long labyrinthine love; mischeiviously make mellifluous mondegreens; sing of such serendipity: surreptitiously susurrous sessions scintillas of Spring's sempiternal sentiments! But fetching fugues fade fast, felicity's fated to fly. For penumbral poets, it portends a pyrrhic pay. We wander woebegone, waiting wistfully. Lovers leave lyricists to languish in lonely lassitude. The halcyon heyday has harbingered inbroglio in the inured inventor of infatuation. Why? With what wherewithal? Often our offerings off us, opposite of, obviously, obtaining, or, lucidly: lyrical lacers of Love likewise lack its livening lagniappe.
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Sep 28, 2012
Sep 28, 2012 at 11:59 AM UTC
The Most Beautiful Words in English (Aren't Enough To Find Love)
Brilliance in mode and tone Elegance without loquaciousness For language is her gift to all Poetess your evanescence Shines eternally in your verbiage And the imagery that lingers Sincerity, essential themes, A labyrinth of life altering morals spun with An unadulterated touch oh humor Poetess, you are admired Humbly honored in this plebeian's Pedestrian attempt at articulation
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Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 9:02 PM UTC
Lagniappe
ive been brooding, lurking your pages, thinking of how we would conflate so well.. do you think of me? do you ever ask yourself, "does she exist?" i admire your cynosure. & i hope my eloquence impresses you. will we ever be? erstwhile.. maybe im tired of relationships that are evanescent, so when you get here, will you be here awhile? i will imbue my love in you.. it'd require you to have interest in a non-ingénue being. a being so brilliant that you will start to question your soul and the size of your crown, my King. you will not become jaded, inure, for i am a Queen of lagniappe. i will have you twisting and turning at the quakes of my soul.. is your mind as beautiful as mine? is your soul as deep? can we be panoply, i hope. can our love be sempiternal.. wherewithal of our love.
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Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 4:02 AM UTC
to a guy ive never met
Its nights like this where I just want drum out the beats of your heart with my fingertips. I want to feel the resistance to separate each and every kiss. I want to see your dark brown eyes illuminated with starlight and moonbeams dancing between the thick black strands of your hair. I want to sing lullabies and then wake you from sleep to remind you I'm still there. I want to whisper dreams across the pillowcase and wrap your arms around me until we've fallen in too deep. I want to make dances out of your restlessness and poems from your mumbling. I want to be the reason you’re bursting with color and in the dark I want to us to love one another. It’s those nights that I long, but here, by myself, the nights drag on. I close my eyes and reminisce through a slideshow of memories filled with pure bliss. I hope that one day we’ll live like that. Where our scattered clothing makes a perfect picture on the floor and the sliver of light coming from under the door will warn us of morning. I want to be there when it’s too early to for your mouth to form words and your irises are born anew. I want to walk with you through winter, spring, summer, and fall. I just want to feel it all. Every little smile and stupid little joke; I want to live through the fire and the smoke. I could give you the world and it still wouldn't mirror what you're worth to me. I want to dig so far and wide and long and deep that we unearth heaven from under the sea. Imagining forever with you has become my sleepless obsession. So when the darkness holds your breath and the wind bites at your cheek, just know, those are the nights where I give you my heart piece by piece. And on nights like tonight remember that it is yours to keep.
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Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 12:04 AM UTC
Lagniappe - A Special Kind of Gift
Its nights like this where I just want drum out the beats of your heart with my fingertips. I want to feel the resistance to separate each and every kiss. I want to see your dark brown eyes illuminated with starlight and moonbeams dancing between the thick black strands of your hair. I want to sing lullabies and then wake you from sleep to remind you I'm still there. I want to whisper dreams across the pillowcase and wrap your arms around me until we've fallen in too deep. I want to make dances out of your restlessness and poems from your mumbling. I want to be the reason you’re bursting with color and in the dark I want to us to love one another. It’s those nights that I long, but here, by myself, the nights drag on. I close my eyes and reminisce through a slideshow of memories filled with pure bliss. I hope that one day we’ll live like that. Where our scattered clothing makes a perfect picture on the floor and the sliver of light coming from under the door will warn us of morning. I want to be there when it’s too early to for your mouth to form words and your irises are born anew. I want to walk with you through winter, spring, summer, and fall. I just want to feel it all. Every little smile and stupid little joke; I want to live through the fire and the smoke. I could give you the world and it still wouldn't mirror what you're worth to me. I want to dig so far and wide and long and deep that we unearth heaven from under the sea. Imagining forever with you has become my sleepless obsession. So when the darkness holds your breath and the wind bites at your cheek, just know, those are the nights where I give you my heart piece by piece. And on nights like tonight remember that it is yours to keep.
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16
This will land like focaccia, Like the careless 'forgot ya'! And a man will stand while staring in, through the coffee shop window, going off glossolalia. The ebullient cashier trainee remembers every name and mixes up almost all the orders for coffee, Cars are lined up for the drive- through, their voices sound like didjeridoos, in the ears covered by single cyborg clip-ons headset taking orders. The ****** iconoclast, Street person, bows to the ground, hat off his head, as he prays to the cigarette holes he made in the EXIT sign outside, his hat remains empty, as each car that whips up the wind that tumbles the receipts tossed egregiously at him, like leaves in the Fall, While the cruciverbalist sits in the corner in the only soft seat, finger pecking her keyboard while stares at the line and sips her chai tea, lagniappe of chocolate stashed, away in her voluptuous bag,  the beleaguered barista has cups lined up over the transcendental horizon, and she can't wait for her break so she can eat with Olio Nuovo olive oil, and Selection Artisan ged balsamic vinegar, she brought to dip, her focaccia bread in, which she forgot almost, on the counter at home.
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Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 11:09 PM UTC
A fresh cup of Quixotic Poetry
i. Dulcet darling Thine eloquence represent's Efflorescence; Felicity unbound. ii. Glamour flambeau Queen of mine soul; Dip me in thine heavenly fountain. iii. Harbinger of the future Nurse to mine suture's; I liveth to ourn vow's. iv. Mine lagniappe I shalt imbue thee; With mine spirit energy, as we overtake the darkness by light. ©Brandon nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl Jane nagley dedication
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Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 11:00 AM UTC
Glamour flambeau of mine soul..
Inspired By A girl -Are not so many things?- Who marvels at Newly discovered words. This aspect is The inspiring seed Which brings me Incentive to nuzzle The common terms Aside in pursuit Of vocabulary spectacular The inky gems Nestled in newspaper Articles; like fragile Antique tea cups Or buried deep Beneath tomes, dust, And peerless age. Each word, carefully I pen them Like exotic butterflies In winding lists              In winding lists Within my notebook, Permitting the cadence Of the river Of inky descriptions To travel autonomously Following the fascinating History of words The curious examples Of a word's More early usage And thus, term After term fills My little journal Making a poem Of curious variety And "lagniappe" Sits by "imbroglio" Terms frivolous and weighty Resting side by side And these words Preserved twixt pages The ultimate museum Of English's curiosities And all this Inspired By A girl -Are not so many things?
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May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 5:44 PM UTC
Fatus-Roma
Like a chatoyants So pretty to look at A colmely and dulcet A individual you doesn't want to upset Gives you a felicity A glamourous beauty Halcyon person Is like a lagniappe To give
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Aug 15, 2017
Aug 15, 2017 at 2:29 AM UTC
Ailurophile
To Save Strays Deserve Lagniappe Ruff lee, e'er since aye waz za lil whippersnapper watt wit dis awful temper, yet obedient to a pooch loving Aleut til present moment, Asian ole mangy coot this hot day (woof faux pas dipping into animal shelter donated water bowl) filled to the brim with smoothie fruit flavored slaking, moistening, cooling, sans lallygagging tongue doth wipe phlegmy ooze away, where nearby a kazoo playing labradoodle accompanies mum muttering prettifying self, via quasi preening snout when squeezed automatically issues ***** tonk sound imitating hoot, where passerine twittering fly night passersby toss bone fied token loot and a Norwegian bachelor farmer named Knute Rockne took immediate liking to yours truly, who when scratched itchy fur patches remained mute imparting unconditional love to petting man's best friend hoof right then and there Isaiah felt as top underdog momentarily distracted Fermi n Rico as petsmart necessary fix reduced to that as newshound ****** oft times in desperation shine shoes ala boot lix usually rewarded with bona fide prolix about such a docile mix breed to old for chase sticks to learn super champing cheap tricks.
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May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018 at 7:17 PM UTC
Reporters Who Risk Life And Limb...
Having long admired Him from afar, Something akin to love Rooted unconditionally, Aching within her for a day There'd be no distance Come between them. When that time should arrive, With bated breath, She opened arms wide To receive his eternal embrace, To feel ardent need Run through her. And so it was, And as lagniappe She bled out Upon the floor, Her going smile, One made of bliss, In having finally felt Love's pleasurable sting.
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Dec 7, 2019
Dec 7, 2019 at 3:04 PM UTC
Romance of the Bayonet
There is a man A Man With an alluring face Blissful, yet brooding He appears mean Intimidating but he's not He's Not He's too kind And his smile 'Mångata' As bright as he is He Is The color amaranthine A deep purple-red color As laced in mysterious As an unopened book Unopened Book That's not him He writes sweetly For the broken world That's set against him Against Him Yet he stands; Leader Quintessential to many A lagniappe to all Kim Namjoon
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Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 8:34 AM UTC
An Ode to a Man