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"lengthening" poems
The body remembers, though it has been four years since the summer you shattered your knee but still limped out across the continent to Boston to see him you idiot and this is the fourth summer you've placed between yourself and the last pin and the last ***** your body remembers, though in the torturous lengthening of fused and toughened tissues the bad leg is finally catching up, and the scar with its ten numb inches of puckered track has come to fade bone white against your skin but it’s still stored somewhere in your sockets or cells and when you fall off your bike you still cry Though you’re not really hurt your body remembers So that when you’re confronted with their engagement photo (you didn’t even know he was seeing anyone) the darkened garden at the Plymouth Plantation begins to bloom up around you before you can stop it like a seizure or a vision, and you’re there again trespassing after him through shadowy pines and night-damp atlantic air to where the white chairs encircle the altar.
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Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
Thoughts on Forgetting
It grew through him violently, relentlessly. Vines and thorns weaving throughout his entirety. Is this what happens when pride grasps the heart and punctures the brain? He touched with force - bruised and slit. turned kisses into slaps, love to sin. Stood inches taller, vines lengthening his limbs. crawling up his spine, weaving into his skin. He finally agreed with his family: I wasn't good enough for him. Pride was like an infestation. a twisting **** an infection.
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May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 11:58 AM UTC
The **** That Grows Here
Within the Eternal Sea of Light Stands the Tree of Life Of seven branches, seven roots Each a mated pair Crowned in white Light My Spirit rests Along the shore. Where the flowers sing their songs Listening to a Symphony I have not heard before. Tazim, Tsum All flowers sing their songs. Oscillating Undertones and overtones A rainbow of petals in "Om" Sounding Multitudes of Love. Elohim, Jah-Jah! Yahweh Hashem! Creator Father Mother The First Trinity Now, in Unity Stands. I give you my raging canyons Wind torn spirit, haggard body Broken heart & soul. Stepping into courage Hand in hand. Lengthening inhalation Slowing it's release   Breath of Life! Moving into the expansive Show me the Light. Sweet mercy! I am weightless In the green fields and rolling valleys Tumbling among the rocks into still waters Ashes of past pain Afloat in silence. All is white within Light's embrace Traveling 90 degrees to the right Flow into the Sacred Heart. Within the Holy of Holies Is a rainbow Where thousands upon thousands of colors Each root within the seven Stands the Tree of Life Of Seven branches, seven roots Each a mated pair Along the shore Where the flowers sing their songs Listening to a symphony I have not heard before. Within the Eternal Sea of Light Crowned in white Light My Spirit rests In Harmony's rhythm In Unity Divine. I am In Unity Divine. Enfolded in Harmony's rhythm My Spirit rests Crowned in white Light. Within the Eternal Sea of Light Listening to a Symphony I have not heard before. Where the flowers singing their songs Along the shore. Each a mated pair. Of seven branches, seven roots Stands the Tree of Life Where thousands upon thousands of colors Is a rainbow Within the Holy of Holies. Flow into the Sacred Heart Traveling  90 degrees to the right within Light's embrace All is White. Afloat in silence. Ashes of past pain Tumbling among the rocks into still waters. In the green fields and rolling valleys I am weightless. Sweet mercy! Show me the Light. Moving into the expansive Breath of Life! Slowing it's release   Lengthening inhalation Hand in hand. Stepping into courage Broken heart & soul. Wind torn spirit, haggard body I give to you my raging canyons Now, in Unity Stands The First Trinity Father Mother Creator! Yahweh Hashem! Elohim, Jah-Jah! Sounding Multitudes of Love. A rainbow of petals in "Om" Undertones and overtones Oscillating All flowers sing their songs. Tazim, Tsum Listening to a Symphony I have not heard before. Where the flowers singing their songs Along the shore. My Spirit rests Crowned in white Light. Each mated pair. Seven branches, seven roots Stands the Tree of Life Within the  Eternal Sea of Light
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Dec 12, 2021
Dec 12, 2021 at 8:42 PM UTC
Ascension
Within the Eternal Sea of Light Stands the Tree of Life Of seven branches, seven roots Each a mated pair Crowned in white Light My Spirit rests Along the shore. Where the flowers sing their songs Listening to a Symphony I have not heard before. Tazim, Tsum All flowers sing their songs. Oscillating Undertones and overtones A rainbow of petals in "Om" Sounding Multitudes of Love. Elohim, Jah-Jah! Yahweh Hashem! Creator Father Mother The First Trinity Now, in Unity Stands. I give you my raging canyons Wind torn spirit, haggard body Broken heart & soul. Stepping into courage Hand in hand. Lengthening inhalation Slowing it's release   Breath of Life! Moving into the expansive Show me the Light. Sweet mercy! I am weightless In the green fields and rolling valleys Tumbling among the rocks into still waters Ashes of past pain Afloat in silence. All is white within Light's embrace Traveling 90 degrees to the right Flow into the Sacred Heart. Within the Holy of Holies Is a rainbow Where thousands upon thousands of colors Each root within the seven Stands the Tree of Life Of Seven branches, seven roots Each a mated pair Along the shore Where the flowers sing their songs Listening to a symphony I have not heard before. Within the Eternal Sea of Light Crowned in white Light My Spirit rests In Harmony's rhythm In Unity Divine. I am In Unity Divine. Enfolded in Harmony's rhythm My Spirit rests Crowned in white Light. Within the Eternal Sea of Light Listening to a Symphony I have not heard before. Where the flowers singing their songs Along the shore. Each a mated pair. Of seven branches, seven roots Stands the Tree of Life Where thousands upon thousands of colors Is a rainbow Within the Holy of Holies. Flow into the Sacred Heart Traveling  90 degrees to the right within Light's embrace All is White. Afloat in silence. Ashes of past pain Tumbling among the rocks into still waters. In the green fields and rolling valleys I am weightless. Sweet mercy! Show me the Light. Moving into the expansive Breath of Life! Slowing it's release   Lengthening inhalation Hand in hand. Stepping into courage Broken heart & soul. Wind torn spirit, haggard body I give to you my raging canyons Now, in Unity Stands The First Trinity Father Mother Creator! Yahweh Hashem! Elohim, Jah-Jah! Sounding Multitudes of Love. A rainbow of petals in "Om" Undertones and overtones Oscillating All flowers sing their songs. Tazim, Tsum Listening to a Symphony I have not heard before. Where the flowers singing their songs Along the shore. My Spirit rests Crowned in white Light. Each mated pair. Seven branches, seven roots Stands the Tree of Life Within the  Eternal Sea of Light
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112
XXII When our two souls stand up ***** and strong, Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher, Until the lengthening wings break into fire At either curved point,—what bitter wrong Can the earth do to us, that we should not long Be here contented? Think. In mounting higher, The angels would press on us and aspire To drop some golden orb of perfect song Into our deep, dear silence. Let us stay Rather on earth, Beloved,—where the unfit Contrarious moods of men recoil away And isolate pure spirits, and permit A place to stand and love in for a day, With darkness and the death-hour rounding it.
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Sonnet 22 - When our two souls stand up ***** and strong
We are the duet Of water meets dust Sky meets ground Heaven meets earth We are the duet Of a mucky dance Crying over the crops Stepping upon the seeds We are the duet Invented from the mess Of creation, turning Into devastation By the hands of the Coalition We are the duet Pouring hands and feet And cranking necks And exposing wrists And lengthening legs And loosening tongues. We are the duet For the dried up leaves In need of a drink For the endless fields Silent in their thirst We are the dance To grow and harvest That will give and give and give And keep feeding and keep feeding and Keep feeding Both types of souls: Those who believe the duet is worthwhile And those who believe they can live Without the smallest amount of rain.
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Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 12:47 PM UTC
We Are The Duet
Arduous late Winter woes amplify in February false hope We’re all sick of constrictive clothes and cold climes conducive to staying in Cabin fever running rampant 45° t-shirts & sunglasses everyone driving with their windows down   Hoping Vernal rituals performed early will hasten Spring’s arrival I’m done fed up ready to move on Going crazy in the cold writhing to get moving unimpeded by frigidness and snow I’m ready for Spring for Summer for Fall I’m ready for the scent of thawing soil in the air biking in the Sun, verdance, and flowers in bloom I’m ready for grass between my toes Fireflies, crickets, peepers and warm night stars I’m sick of frost reddened runny raw noses sick of numb fingers and toes and having precious few daylight hours I’m sick of combatting glacial winds with layers, of treacherous icy apathy, and dreary bleak boredom I’m sick of not being able to sit on the ground sick of long pants, long socks, long sleeves, and silent stagnant long nights So, despite the fact that I’ll pine for January every day over 90° Despite the fact that when mosquitoes swarm I’ll wish a frost would **** the little ******** and despite the fact I’ll get just as fed up with temperate seasons I still want Spring and then Summer and then Fall But February brings false hope and despite the lengthening cheery sun months still stand between us and t-shirt weather mild nights, grassy hills,   and emancipation from an inclement icebox atmosphere
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Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 8:50 AM UTC
February False Hope
Arduous late Winter woes amplify in February false hope We’re all sick of constrictive clothes and cold climes conducive to staying in Cabin fever running rampant 45° t-shirts & sunglasses everyone driving with their windows down   Hoping Vernal rituals performed early will hasten Spring’s arrival I’m done fed up ready to move on Going crazy in the cold writhing to get moving unimpeded by frigidness and snow I’m ready for Spring for Summer for Fall I’m ready for the scent of thawing soil in the air biking in the Sun, verdance, and flowers in bloom I’m ready for grass between my toes Fireflies, crickets, peepers and warm night stars I’m sick of frost reddened runny raw noses sick of numb fingers and toes and having precious few daylight hours I’m sick of combatting glacial winds with layers, of treacherous icy apathy, and dreary bleak boredom I’m sick of not being able to sit on the ground sick of long pants, long socks, long sleeves, and silent stagnant long nights So, despite the fact that I’ll pine for January every day over 90° Despite the fact that when mosquitoes swarm I’ll wish a frost would **** the little ******** and despite the fact I’ll get just as fed up with temperate seasons I still want Spring and then Summer and then Fall But February brings false hope and despite the lengthening cheery sun months still stand between us and t-shirt weather mild nights, grassy hills,   and emancipation from an inclement icebox atmosphere
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Part in peace: is day before us? Praise His Name for life and light; Are the shadows lengthening o’er us? Bless His care Who guards the night. Part in peace: with deep thanksgiving, Rendering, as we homeward tread, Gracious service to the living, Tranquil memory to the dead. Part in peace: such are the praises God our Maker loveth best; Such the worship that upraises Human hearts to heavenly rest.
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Part In Peace: Is Day Before Us?
This could take a lifetime but they've taken it away, and where our plan was laid upon the lengthening of the day of man does not apply, it's a why so,why not no and never mind the time will go and go we will until our toil is stilled. ***** hands on dirtied lands and can we clean where we have been and if we can, what then the plan or do we carry on until the goodness of the soil is gone and if we do what do we do with all the waste we leave behind? If we are blind then let us see. The last boat sails at five to three and I intend to sail with all the best, I leave the rest to you.
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Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 7:29 PM UTC
Slow boat.
GHETTO GOSPLE. You aren't born to please anyone, neither accepted by everybody. But your purpose is to make sure you live good making better thangs, making thangs better. Spreading love across to each and every one wisely. You're born to rule not ruled. Everyone is meant to live fee free. But it takes bravery to make a living, on the field of struggle, busting and jostling, in search for fortune, get yours, I'd get mine. living in dreams, getting goals accomplished unyielding. Thinking of living again tomorrow, when we hadn't none reaped ou'ta momentum.  Is there future promised to us at all.? When we had spent perhaps even the half of our lifetime , achieving nothang. Stagnated, disdained, and denounced crazy sage, labeled mad. Does it not mean we were plagued? God forbid! Sango in the altar. History's mystery new testament era. Jesus is Lord a slain Saint sent from above. Make a melody 🎶 sing to the world, lengthening fasting season. Faithful journey  along with Supreme omniscient ghost. Awe! - C9fm
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Mar 15, 2023
Mar 15, 2023 at 7:40 PM UTC
GHETTO GOSPLE
There is kinetic energy Shaping around you and me Lengthening our edges of Passion's high held ledges
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Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 10:15 AM UTC
The Climb
A dream that waketh, Bubble that breaketh, Song whose burden sigheth, A passing breath, Smoke that vanisheth,-- Such is life that dieth. A flower that fadeth, Fruit the tree sheddeth, Trackless bird that flieth, Summer time brief, Falling of the leaf,-- Such is life that dieth. A scent exhaling, Snow waters failing, Morning dew that drieth, A windy blast, Lengthening shadows cast,-- Such is life that dieth. A scanty measure, Rust-eaten treasure, Spending that nought buyeth, Moth on the wing, Toil unprofiting,-- Such is life that dieth. Morrow by morrow Sorrow breeds sorrow, For this my song sigheth; From day to night We lapse out of sight,-- Such is life that dieth.
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Days Of Vanity
As the shadows began lengthening I slowly walked to the sea shore Through the cobbled path With stinging stones under my feet And piles of golden clouds floating above Enjoying the whistling of the wind through the reeds Inhaling the saline air, smelling of rotting seaweeds On the vast strand, I stood for long Feeling the foamy fringes of water lapping at my feet And sensing the sand slipping away under my feet I watched the gentle undulating billows Rolling their silver volumes As if to die away on the happy shores The sapphire waters and the roaring waves The churning tides and the feathery foam Made me wonder at the horror and beauty That ****** dichotomy Nature carries within I saw numerous fishes gambol beneath the waves Do the finny herds that roam The fathomless valleys of the Deep Ever experience the tumult and scuffle Of the roaring waters? Oh! Never! Like them, I too floated weightless With all the barbed distractions drifting away Wishing to get a pair of wings of the swallow flying high To soar safely away from all gadflies who disturb And cocooned in the inner citadel of my privacy Enjoying a permeating peace, I had seldom known! Then Byron’s words came floating to me Mingling with the cadence of the waves ‘There is rapture in the lonely shores There is society where none intrudes’
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Jul 9, 2016
Jul 9, 2016 at 8:53 AM UTC
My Stroll to the Seashore
Everything is sad. Like how a flickering streetlamp is sad. Like how hands that brush but don't hold is sad. Like how a page ripping in your favourite book is sad. Like how the flowers wilting after two days is sad. Like how finishing the cereal but not filling your bowl is sad. Like how waving to a stranger who doesn't see it is sad. Like how the blanket doesn't quite cover all of your toes is sad. Like how this cup of tea is too cold is sad. Like how the clock hand can't quite get past 20 seconds is sad. Like how my glow-in-the-dark stars always fade too soon is sad. Like how the most important words always go unsaid is sad. Like how the lengthening silence between us is sad. Like how this broken, shaking whisper that isn't heard is sad. Like how the closing of the car door is sad. Like how this kiss blown from my lips can only travel so far is sad. Like how my heart slams itself into my empty rib cage is sad. My whole world is just sad Weeping through these raindrops that won't seem to ever stop sliding down my window pane.
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Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 1:24 AM UTC
Sad
I wish you were a pleasant wren, And I your small accepted mate; How we'd look down on toilsome men! We'd rise and go to bed at eight Or it may be not quite so late. Then you should see the nest I'd build, The wondrous nest for you and me; The outside rough, perhaps, but filled With wool and down: ah, you should see The cosey nest that it would be. We'd have our change of hope and fear, Small quarrels, reconcilements sweet: I'd perch by you to chirp and cheer, Or hop about on active feet And fetch you dainty bits to eat. We'd be so happy by the day, So safe and happy through the night, We both should feel, and I should say, It's all one season of delight, And we'll make merry whilst we may. Perhaps some day there'd be an egg When spring had blossomed from the snow: I'd stand triumphant on one leg; Like chanticleer I'd almost crow To let our little neighbors know. Next you should sit and I would sing Through lengthening days of sunny spring: Till, if you wearied of the task, I'd sit; and you should spread your wing From bough to bough; I'd sit and bask. Fancy the breaking of the shell, The chirp, the chickens wet and bare, The untried proud paternal swell; And you with housewife-matron air Enacting choicer bills of fare. Fancy the embryo coats of down, The gradual feathers soft and sleek; Till clothed and strong from tail to crown, With ****** warblings in their beak, They too go forth to soar and seek. So would it last an April through And early summer fresh with dew: Then should we part and live as twain, Love-time would bring me back to you And build our happy nest again.
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Child's Talk In April
I wish you were a pleasant wren, And I your small accepted mate; How we'd look down on toilsome men! We'd rise and go to bed at eight Or it may be not quite so late. Then you should see the nest I'd build, The wondrous nest for you and me; The outside rough, perhaps, but filled With wool and down: ah, you should see The cosey nest that it would be. We'd have our change of hope and fear, Small quarrels, reconcilements sweet: I'd perch by you to chirp and cheer, Or hop about on active feet And fetch you dainty bits to eat. We'd be so happy by the day, So safe and happy through the night, We both should feel, and I should say, It's all one season of delight, And we'll make merry whilst we may. Perhaps some day there'd be an egg When spring had blossomed from the snow: I'd stand triumphant on one leg; Like chanticleer I'd almost crow To let our little neighbors know. Next you should sit and I would sing Through lengthening days of sunny spring: Till, if you wearied of the task, I'd sit; and you should spread your wing From bough to bough; I'd sit and bask. Fancy the breaking of the shell, The chirp, the chickens wet and bare, The untried proud paternal swell; And you with housewife-matron air Enacting choicer bills of fare. Fancy the embryo coats of down, The gradual feathers soft and sleek; Till clothed and strong from tail to crown, With ****** warblings in their beak, They too go forth to soar and seek. So would it last an April through And early summer fresh with dew: Then should we part and live as twain, Love-time would bring me back to you And build our happy nest again.
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45
Unburied tomorrow from Christian metanarratives the mid-winter solstice.           December 21;            the shortest day        over the longest night. Two lovers                are by the Channel                     divided                          to different beds                                 to tongue tastes                                         to timed beats                                                      to unfamiliar scents                                           as Yuletide days                      burn twelfths to gray ash;               their bodies          are sea cleaved. Come! cross the water and release with lively touch tresses thick and winter's dew, unctuous upon the crag, the timely solar orb to stir the frozen ground on our rocky shelves and chopped bowels. On 25th, Christ's star is risen: the king's light dispersed    in lengthening days    in opened flesh    in loosening chords untied    in sinews gnawed through    in desire's wanting hotly flayed! 60 seconds were daily added, to when in the 100 Year Gallery,   love to know, would in solstice ultimately lay. For now as then, our emboldened play in days delayed has been love's lacerating torment!
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Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 12:05 AM UTC
Love Unburied
Unburied tomorrow from Christian metanarratives the mid-winter solstice.           December 21;            the shortest day        over the longest night. Two lovers                are by the Channel                     divided                          to different beds                                 to tongue tastes                                         to timed beats                                                      to unfamiliar scents                                           as Yuletide days                      burn twelfths to gray ash;               their bodies          are sea cleaved. Come! cross the water and release with lively touch tresses thick and winter's dew, unctuous upon the crag, the timely solar orb to stir the frozen ground on our rocky shelves and chopped bowels. On 25th, Christ's star is risen: the king's light dispersed    in lengthening days    in opened flesh    in loosening chords untied    in sinews gnawed through    in desire's wanting hotly flayed! 60 seconds were daily added, to when in the 100 Year Gallery,   love to know, would in solstice ultimately lay. For now as then, our emboldened play in days delayed has been love's lacerating torment!
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49
Your soft white-tan hands never brush mine, Only connected by our two spoons in a pint Of ice cream (which is good: In my broken state I could kiss you). Drown my confusing pain In milky, sugar coldness, Hazel eyes, blue eyes not meeting much per My choice. My memory blushes at his comments, I can't think of you here as the Same you who wore the denim shorts We marveled at- they were very nice shorts (He said you had a nice *** But I was more intrigued by his sideways glance, Brown eyes flickering slyly over not your **** hips, I felt undressed. Like he was wondering whether the *** under my loose jeans Was anywhere near those denim shorts. Spoons dig through cookie dough chunks In near silence, Evening shadows lengthening across grass, sidewalk edges More perfect and straight Than any attraction I've ever had.
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May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 7:47 PM UTC
Spoons
Her baby rolls away with her youth But all the while lengthening her earthly remembrance For the days and nights to come Her life will dwindle While her memory continues to be kindled As her daughter grows She will fall As her daughter succeeds in life This mom will gain strife She will lose that bond And her connection with her baby But her heart will now jump If daughter only says maybe So these two lives split As one branches and The other decays So little room for both to remain As the mother comes to her end The daughter finally realizes Her growth is the reason For her mother’s late season But that’s the way it is And never will it change The daughter will steal What her mother gives away Something so cruel Can only make sense In the eyes of a mother Who gives it all to a daughter
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Jul 29, 2012
Jul 29, 2012 at 12:46 AM UTC
Roll Away Baby
Pausing briefly, gathering further instruction The evil Eye of Baar reflects Upon a memory, near complete conception. With all hearing soul and forming sensors The evil Eye of Baar absorbs Only pertinent waves from its passive donors. Passing shadows, focusing hard detail The evil Eye of Baar perceives Enough truth to know how not to fail. Come the distant death and lengthening span The evil Eye of Baar flaunts Just future birth to compliment an evil plan. Plans shaped, Spontaneity becoming colder The evil Eye of Baar warms To eventual visions and power growing bolder. Sold on tyrannical tactics and plotted course The evil Eye of Baar dims To possible defeat and attack to its source. Intuition dying, reflex receded by design The evil Eye of Baar succumbs Unlike mortals, helpless in death, forced to resign.
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Sep 30, 2009
Sep 30, 2009 at 3:32 PM UTC
Alien Plans
My eyes are roving, clever and playful In the tensest moments I don’t lose my cool From my fingers the bullets fly I dive deep and jump from the sky. I do hide behind occasional beard I want my martinis shaken not stirred My mantra is only one word ‘win’ The only car I ride is Aston martin. My name turns my enemies morose They’re pinned down by my gizmos. Women just madly fall for me Clad skimpily in alluring bikini Chiseled figures slim and tall I choose the good but go for all. I am pressed for time so much I can’t do without my omega watch Though I’m not stuck in a brand or two Rolex and Seikos will also do. I feel instead of lengthening the list It’s time for me to clear up the mist A suave smart and fearless guy I also happen to be a timeless spy. I play with the villains dangerous games Love to be called Bond without James With me the baddies can never get even You know the world knows me by 007.
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Mar 22, 2013
Mar 22, 2013 at 8:12 AM UTC
My Name is Bond
***Sometimes when ev'ning lamps are ebbing low And all the earth lies hushed in solemn sleep Within my lonely heart there burns a glow, As lengthening shadows about me creep. My weary glance falls o'er the dismal room Where with rapturous eyes I seem to see Beyond thick cobwebs, dust and direst gloom A merry host of friends-my own library! Worn musty books on shelves from olden days, Brittle pages yellowed by hands of time, Illuminating night with gladsome rays, Lifting my bleak spirit to realms sublime. Trooping merrily before my rapt gaze Into flick'ring lamplight I watch them come, Quaint men and ladies of forgotten days; Golden laughter echoing in my home. Into my eyes they smile, murm'ring with grace Aerial speech they blithely chat with me, They seem to belong to another race Wakening in my heart sweet melody. Dying lamplight sputters and they are gone. Vanished! I stare about but find I none Save a drowsy thrush flutes with hush of dawn Only myself in the parlour alone.*** ~Hilda~
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Dec 8, 2012
Dec 8, 2012 at 10:50 PM UTC
My Library
A late summer sun, sinking in the west, Shimmering, ablaze with fiery colour, Appearing suspended above the trees, Greens transformed to reds and golds, Summer’s daughter, borne on a breeze. As I wander amongst treasured places, Copses, glades; peace of a woodland path, Breathing subtle scents, pollen filled haze, Nature’s unstinting magic edging change, Accepting the shortening of summer days. Barely escaping before lengthening shadows, Race to the door of my countryside home, Animal calls echoing, preceding night’s rest, Autumn shakes out her gown; smiles to see, A late summer sun, sinking in the west.
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Sep 16, 2010
Sep 16, 2010 at 10:41 AM UTC
Cusp Of Change
O, my mind, won't you meet me alone? When the Earth's eyes close And the valley winds blow. To ensure, Being clear, That none could see nor hear None of the throes nor fears Reflected through shattered mirrors. As ashamed as I am, cautious as I am aware That, as I am, in this state of disrepair, I’ve walked upon an anxious, lengthening pier, That leads to the middle of the ocean, only to stare, At the waves of defeat that, underneath do quake. For still beating is my heart, so even though it aches As the disappearance of you leaves unconsciousness in its wake, Seeing how perilous the seas may be, to only drown in a lake, To perhaps resurface once more in the following morn, Is a promised hope wherein dreams dissipate forsworn
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Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 7:21 PM UTC
Murderer of My Mind
Or afterlife I can't remember *Let's take a trip Just go for a stroll Down this hellhole Old ravaged soul Fear not my friend, For lo and behold You've been here before Time after time, Spent breaking the mold Value of life cajoled Blindfolded by fool's gold Then a jolt of electricity jots down your spinal chord Now you're on the threshold About to enter a portal of some sorts, No? Only to discover You're living the life of another And the sum of every misgiving makes you suffer in discomfort Living the dream To wake and repeat Routinely existing One day at a time Feel it yes shudder Over your head pull the covers Dream of a place elsewhere But beware your worst nightmares As a slaughter is awakening Pharm entrapment for mass brainwashing It's one global chess-game While pawns are laid to waste Archons duplicate an assumed fate Deception whispers into the hearts of the wicked For certain they're rendered by men lurking shadily behind curtains unspoken of I'm ashamed Prayers fall on deaf ears when a reckoning is ravenous Assuredly glimmering in extravagance Whilst you traipse about like savages Poisoning our brains Tainting the terrain Reign supreme putrid filth For bloodstained money & Squandered wealth Lengthening our debts Molesting children Who'd like to place their highest bet? Just stay conditioned For the daily grind The hustle and bustle Stick with consistence And reminisce of better times You're dead inside Is the end just contingent? Why won't society just crumble Keep living the lie Greener pastures lay just beyond the hillside Am I right?*
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Oct 29, 2015
Oct 29, 2015 at 9:37 AM UTC
Welcome to the other side.
Or afterlife I can't remember *Let's take a trip Just go for a stroll Down this hellhole Old ravaged soul Fear not my friend, For lo and behold You've been here before Time after time, Spent breaking the mold Value of life cajoled Blindfolded by fool's gold Then a jolt of electricity jots down your spinal chord Now you're on the threshold About to enter a portal of some sorts, No? Only to discover You're living the life of another And the sum of every misgiving makes you suffer in discomfort Living the dream To wake and repeat Routinely existing One day at a time Feel it yes shudder Over your head pull the covers Dream of a place elsewhere But beware your worst nightmares As a slaughter is awakening Pharm entrapment for mass brainwashing It's one global chess-game While pawns are laid to waste Archons duplicate an assumed fate Deception whispers into the hearts of the wicked For certain they're rendered by men lurking shadily behind curtains unspoken of I'm ashamed Prayers fall on deaf ears when a reckoning is ravenous Assuredly glimmering in extravagance Whilst you traipse about like savages Poisoning our brains Tainting the terrain Reign supreme putrid filth For bloodstained money & Squandered wealth Lengthening our debts Molesting children Who'd like to place their highest bet? Just stay conditioned For the daily grind The hustle and bustle Stick with consistence And reminisce of better times You're dead inside Is the end just contingent? Why won't society just crumble Keep living the lie Greener pastures lay just beyond the hillside Am I right?*
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64
to stare at wonder is no mistake in this too large universe where breath lies below the surface vision, heartbeat, all the same it is no great effort to live time to end the search for design there is a tingling that calls for change so now the freedom exists what to do, where to go all these questions remain I bang my hand on the table wood just to feel, to circulate, to digest the great mask of the collective world will fool me no longer, buying time will envelope a soul, un-touchable an uncomfortable visitor many of these ideas lead nowhere you can scratch at meaning claw at understanding in so little time, a blue screen backdrop accounting for variation measuring the drift apparent the suns angles creep lower the mountains accept their lengthening shadows certain, wise beyond words such as these Friday, November 15, 2013
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Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 9:00 AM UTC
Bounce, Scream and Bounce Again
As I wander down, twisting paths, Low leaden skies, threatening rain, Leaves drift down like confetti, As winter awakens, once again. Trees, their branches almost bare, Rake and claw, at a heavy sky, Thrashing impotently to be free, As searching winds, rustle on by. Bracken, faded yellow and brown, So cloying with the scent of death, A decaying, withering, tangled mass, Autumn steals a last, silent breath. Frost creeps in, coating the ground, Painting trees and hedgerows white. Woodland life, skulks and hides, Avoiding the snap of winter’s bite. Shortening days: lengthening nights, Are forcing temperatures to fall, A babbling brook becomes silenced, The Ice-queen spreads her shawl. Rain soon becomes transmogrified, Within raging blizzards of snow, Winter heralding an early arrival, With a cool, breath-taking show. Oh so cold, but I won’t complain, For merciless winter simply laughs, My breath pants in foggy plumes, As I wander down, twisting paths.
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Oct 27, 2010
Oct 27, 2010 at 6:48 AM UTC
Awakening Winter