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"listless" poems
Why do I feel numb Watching the world Listless in sight Because I only see it in black and white Colors are washed out of my eyes And every light in me has died All I see are smiles as frowns Because I only see them upside down Love songs don’t have any meaning For a person who is trapped in their mind Love can attempt to come my way And I will just glance and walk away Storm clouds cries and fills the ocean But my salty tears competes with emotion Filling the ocean ten times till tomorrow That the ocean will be overwhelmed with sorrow In the end, I try a superficial smile And try to fool myself for awhile But as much as I try There is nothing left inside Because everything in me Can’t seem to come alive
0
Aug 10, 2019
Aug 10, 2019 at 9:45 AM UTC
My Depression
After school hours, sleepily Looking down from the window sill A deep rest in spring wind chill If I close my eyes To this brilliant world Reflected scenery dances still If I blow a low whistle Towards the blue sky Walking becomes a little more spry Turning my music a little bit down To listen to the lively corner of town When I look up with slight rejoice I hear a distant singing voice Ah~ Ah~ Ah~ Today begins like any other day Bathed in the sun slowly drifting away The most pleasing place to reside Is here right by your side Dull clouds early afternoon A sudden shower in the middle of June Blue sky peeked out when I arose Colors arc out accross concrete meadows The bell chimes when I reach Out through the window and to the beach Warm breeze blows through the empty hall When I looked up I heard you call Ah~ Ah~ Ah~ Let’s rest into the sunshine Taking breaths in a comfortable rhyme We may not speak for very long Though with just that I feel so strong My quiet heart echoing true When I’m here with you
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Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 12:24 PM UTC
Listless
Perseverance on my tongue, a silken thought in silver ink I scrawl strange patterns on the sun and watch for daybreak to dismiss the blackboard starlight drips and runs. Now listless with my aching legs I’m counting candles, chasing smoke that filters yellow, drains the dregs of coffee, cold and drowned of hope. By tingling error I swallow words, boredom pervades the bitter night with a whistle, tuneless, that seems absurd I empty out my troubled mind to exhale sadness; curled, entwined - quite futile, like staring when blind.
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May 19, 2012
May 19, 2012 at 8:57 AM UTC
Perseverance
Beside a dusty fan droops languid veins whose movement barely churns up tarnished grime, as lazy sun exudes through poisoned panes injected with the film of listless time. A gentle sigh is exhaled without will for emptiness of long forgotten mind. Eyes shudder closed to desolation's shrill of conscious much too free and so, confined. Revolting spittle dribbles down a chin with absolutely nothing left to do. To entertain and keep from going thin you spy on friends who in turn spy on you. Alas! For boredom is the finite trait of great mankind's insufferable fate.
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Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 7:28 PM UTC
Boredom
***Night came and conquered my ceiling Head tilted back to inherit it's familiar splendour. But she isn't there... Left my heart slightly gaping. O twinkly one, have you seen her?*** *She's mysteriously veiled tonight, Playfully on her halo, dances gentle light. Don't give up on her, listless moongazer, She wants to be conquered, put up a good fight.* ***Persistent skirmish that sets dreams and reality apart, Eyes don't see what the heart knows so clear, Clarity eludes when forgotten scars start to smart, Do you know if she even realises I'm here?*** *She knows, and dreams of your happy eyes, That only her will hold on their feverish gaze. Unbroken threads of hope, your yearning to baptize And her ice cold craters to be set ablaze.* ***Fire in my vessel still burns bright and strong, Never extinguished behind the facade of my weary husk, My flame would endure just as the wick is long, Tell me dear star, will I see her next dusk?*** *When the sun's swords will seize, slashing the sky in dazzling blue, When the air will bring a comforting ease, Her glistening "yes" will welcome you.* ***Your comforting words ring only of truth, Winking in codes, you might be right . Darkness had claimed and engulfed all proof, Will you accompany me through tonight?*** *This piercing question you don't have to ask me, For even though my light's billion of years away, Twinkling in your dreams I'll always be, The night companion, under your moon's ray.* ryn Dajena M
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Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 10:29 AM UTC
Dialogue with a Star
without a care in world dancing with flirty breeze she plays along with life as chirping birds in trees bathing in sunlit dew fondling with light i see in arms of listless wind you bloom so lazily
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Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 8:21 AM UTC
bloom
You're my stillborn butterfly afraid of your new beauty with limp wings, pried from the safety of your cocoon by my old hands in a forest where everything is charred. Only the skeletal trees once lush with life and birdsong can admire your strange elegance as you lay listless on their roots that thirst for a storm of passing love and thunder. I want to carry you away to my field of wildflowers and resurrect you with the unmasked glow of the shy moon, who only shows its face in this meadow of lies. I'll watch the breeze wake you on my fingertips then let you fly away, carelessly into a world of color I'll never compare to.
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Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 5:57 PM UTC
My Field of Wildflowers
Six months on, and hundreds of offspring later, She is much too languid to even move. The listless queen bee is stung repeatedly; Her own children have seemingly turned on her. Once good and dead she is tossed from the nest. Merciless? Or mercy killing? I will leave you to decide.
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Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 10:54 PM UTC
Queen Bumblebee - A Life
Day by day I fritter away Observing decorum as best I may Meet me as you meet — reserved somebody Leave me as you leave — dull nobody Dreary, weary, listless, spiritless A resting spirit clamours to emerge Unguided, wild, free and seeking Boldly defying reserved somebody But how, just how do I unleash this defiant spirit For it is to cross all conceivable limits Oh but a mask, of course a mask! The perfect accessory for this task! Careless of propriety Boastful of daring Acting against my will Or in tandem with it? This mask — just now I can't discern Ponder I do with great concern Does it shield my identity Or render truth to it? So now just what fun in masks One may ponderously ask Masks, bring to life fantasy Fantasy, a realm of our reality Reality, wherein lies multiplicity Multiplicity, within each individuality
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Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 11:04 AM UTC
The One & Many
You Sir, Are An Electrician! **technocrat — noun a proponent, adherent, or supporter of technocracy.** This city boy was expert at Turning the lights on, Unlocking the front door, Putting new batteries in flashlights, And calling the handyman to "Please come upstairs" When the degree of diving difficulty was a Positive number. Also, Freezing the semi-permanently the DVR, Triggering alarms, Killing car batteries, Making laptops question Human sanity, Tearing up when reading, "Some Assembly Required!" Raised in a city of experts, He was unskilled in things electric, Becoming apoplectic, When a device had an On/off switch that ignored him. Somewhat famous he was, For engaging the inanimate, In a verbal dialectic, Which included words highly phonetic, But unsuitable for children's ears. She was raised in rural pastures, Corn fields used for hide n' go seek, Riding goats after school Just for fun, Familiar with innards of Deus ex machina, a/k/a Minor engine repairs, and Doing what he called, Making reparations. IOS7, heaven. Cabling laptop to external devices, Icing on the cake, Dis and reassembling a German coffee maker, Did not require calling an 800 number. She never read an instruction sheet Without pleasurable laughing at Japanese English. He was unashamed of his skilled Unskilled characteristics, For such is the way of the world In the human kingdom, Some of us two handed, some of us, bi-standers. But upon occasion, He would bemoan his fate, Decry his inability to survive On a post-apocalyptic Earth, Like the people on tv and movies. Periodically he would grow morose, Listless, at his inability to adapt to a Point Oh world. Uncomprehending Icons and symbols whose meaning Were wholly unintuitive, He secretly ashamed of his need for technological ****** She would sense his frustration, Wipe away his inner condensation, Climbing into his lap, Whispering the following: **You sir, are an electrician of words, a verbal technocrat,** Plumber of the depths where Few fear to tread, explorer of the head, Restorer of human paintings unmatched, Without your ilk, this world would be unbearable, Your heart's warming silk Comforts bodies and souls, Speaking from experience personal. Then, she flicked his On/Off switch, On.
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Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 2:43 AM UTC
You Sir, Are An Electrician!
You Sir, Are An Electrician! **technocrat — noun a proponent, adherent, or supporter of technocracy.** This city boy was expert at Turning the lights on, Unlocking the front door, Putting new batteries in flashlights, And calling the handyman to "Please come upstairs" When the degree of diving difficulty was a Positive number. Also, Freezing the semi-permanently the DVR, Triggering alarms, Killing car batteries, Making laptops question Human sanity, Tearing up when reading, "Some Assembly Required!" Raised in a city of experts, He was unskilled in things electric, Becoming apoplectic, When a device had an On/off switch that ignored him. Somewhat famous he was, For engaging the inanimate, In a verbal dialectic, Which included words highly phonetic, But unsuitable for children's ears. She was raised in rural pastures, Corn fields used for hide n' go seek, Riding goats after school Just for fun, Familiar with innards of Deus ex machina, a/k/a Minor engine repairs, and Doing what he called, Making reparations. IOS7, heaven. Cabling laptop to external devices, Icing on the cake, Dis and reassembling a German coffee maker, Did not require calling an 800 number. She never read an instruction sheet Without pleasurable laughing at Japanese English. He was unashamed of his skilled Unskilled characteristics, For such is the way of the world In the human kingdom, Some of us two handed, some of us, bi-standers. But upon occasion, He would bemoan his fate, Decry his inability to survive On a post-apocalyptic Earth, Like the people on tv and movies. Periodically he would grow morose, Listless, at his inability to adapt to a Point Oh world. Uncomprehending Icons and symbols whose meaning Were wholly unintuitive, He secretly ashamed of his need for technological ****** She would sense his frustration, Wipe away his inner condensation, Climbing into his lap, Whispering the following: **You sir, are an electrician of words, a verbal technocrat,** Plumber of the depths where Few fear to tread, explorer of the head, Restorer of human paintings unmatched, Without your ilk, this world would be unbearable, Your heart's warming silk Comforts bodies and souls, Speaking from experience personal. Then, she flicked his On/Off switch, On.
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83
I am your bird of prey Caught between 2 posts And a glistening fence. Neck broken, beak to the ground, Half way trapped inside your field of green. I am your bird of prey, Wings on a wire, Still soft and light, with feathers gleaming where promise of flight, newly broken, fell to earth. 'Twas passion that lured me to your nest, where the cloud kissed Sun with time turned ashen my listless frame. A testament to nature's seduction, there was no escaping your embrace As the warmth slowly left my still beating heart.
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May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 2:46 AM UTC
Bird of Prey
Consider the sea’s listless chime: Time’s self it is, made audible,— The murmur of the earth’s own shell. Secret continuance sublime Is the sea’s end: our sight may pass No furlong further. Since time was, This sound hath told the lapse of time. No quiet, which is death’s,—it hath The mournfulness of ancient life, Enduring always at dull strife. As the world’s heart of rest and wrath, Its painful pulse is in the sands. Last utterly, the whole sky stands, Gray and not known, along its path. Listen alone beside the sea, Listen alone among the woods; Those voices of twin solitudes Shall have one sound alike to thee: Hark where the murmurs of thronged men Surge and sink back and surge again,— Still the one voice of wave and tree. Gather a shell from the strown beach And listen at its lips: they sigh The same desire and mystery, The echo of the whole sea’s speech. And all mankind is thus at heart Not anything but what thou art: And Earth, Sea, Man, are all in each.
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7k
The Sea Limits
You woke me in the thin dawn. Like a riot of rain in a bleached dry summer. small green shreds of shrub sprang from my heart as tumbling birdsong might litter the long pale sky. your voice came drifting through the shallow line And I let the sound seep like a soft assault on my senses. I hear the words and picture your lips Folding around the consonants like a dance. I hear your breath carry the words and taste the phrases That linger on your tongue as if to speak them in a kiss These words that spin this cloth of gold in whispered utterings This silken tease with a wild sprinkle of kisses and anatomy. And would my words soften your eye and entice your body With fevered adventures seeking to be sated with a touch? Could you taste the blessings erupting from my tongue? Would you ache inside far beneath the longings of the flesh? It seems that every cell is sighing a simpering listless want to be captured by the haunting breath of a lover’s call.
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Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 5:34 AM UTC
Phone Call
Uncharmable charmer Of Bacchus and Mars In the sounding rebounding Abyss of the stars! O ****** in armour, Thine arrows unsling In the brilliant resilient First rays of the spring! By the force of the fashion Of love, when I broke Through the shroud, through the cloud, Through the storm, through the smoke, To the mountain of passion Volcanic that woke --- By the rage of the mage I invoke, I invoke! By the midnight of madness: - The lone-lying sea, The swoon of the moon, Your swoon into me, The sentinel sadness Of cliff-clinging pine, That night of delight You were mine, you were mine! You were mine, O my saint, My maiden, my mate, By the might of the right Of the night of our fate. Though I fall, though I faint, Though I char, though I choke, By the hour of our power I invoke, I invoke! By the mystical union Of fairy and faun, Unspoken, unbroken - The dust to the dawn! - A secret communion Unmeasured, unsung, The listless, resistless, Tumultuous tongue! - O ****** in armour, Thine arrows unsling, In the brilliant resilient First rays of the spring! No Godhead could charm her, But manhood awoke - O fiery Valkyrie, I invoke, I invoke!
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4.7k
Pan to Artemis
Ganders...gargantua--ensconced in far-fetched space... (attrition)...LOOK AT THAT LINE...LOOK AT IT... ROUND THE CORNERS OF PERPETUITY...predilections. A soul's inalienable fracas...on bend and knee...hop...and whoop...miasmic gargoyles poppy-wreathed... for all-too-lucid dreaming...chanting etceteras of bare riff raffs. Golden breastplates...weeping willow wings...empurpled-- fending fang trumping lines of: yuck, cluck, claw and kook. ...Listless eyes...alphabetize...think a blind oracle's informed absentia...holy and bovine. Redolent airs...perspiration of spume's most distancing shore-- eyepieces for the specks and logs in the oculos of brothers and sisters. As dust to dust doth not settle...heart's yonder score...nay cease of interstice...off-world amorousness. Gather ye yarrow sticks...hurl them at days...roofless arcady... live into the spectra of their worlds, come friend or foe...Fate's foundling. Lines strung as prayer beads...curs-ed beads...forget-me-nots enclosed in letters baiting Long Farewells, in the great literary correspondence of authored and Author. ...Ye gorgeous gargoyles come perch and push. Persona non grata...the wide world...unisex prodigal...All--returneth. LOOK AT THAT LINE...LOOK AT IT...(attrition)...ROUND THE CORNERS OF PERPETUITY. NEBULAEIC FANFARE...come perch to push...lo...ANGELS!
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Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 12:35 PM UTC
Gorgeous Gargoyles
I'm all sad poems and broken songs It figures it's my birthday I'm panic attacks and sleepless nights And all the words I won't say. Things should be normal, shouldn't they? Things should be okay; it's my birthday. Seventeen isn't going the way it should Can I have another try? Seventeen isn't right, right now Somebody hit rewind. Things should be fine today Things should be right; it's my birthday. Nothing revolves around my birth I know that, I swear I do But all I asked was to be happy When the day was through. Things aren't right, are they? Even though it's my birthday. Seventeen began with listless apathy Seventeen began with broken promises Seventeen began with fake smiles and laughs Seventeen began with hurt friends. Seventeen may go away I don't want it here. Seventeen isn't what I like I'll try again next year. Until then I'll be wondering How seventeen began so wrong It's my birthday, today I'm all sad poems and broken songs.
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May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 7:34 PM UTC
Birthday
Sculpted by the tides Marble faces Cold embraces Listless lies Float in the wind Drifting boats Sink and disappear A diaspora of shadows Misanthropic memories Malevolent, mimicking.
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Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 4:21 AM UTC
Sea Urchins
The pimple faced gernment representative told me I had to hold my pollinated dreams until next season. And in my school house dream matthew told me his dream nothing less than Sustainable Planet And as I started to argue, I realized, my mouth was full of seasoned nuts full of warehoused food, because I could not attend lunch, at this newly packed cafeteria; I was on a mission to... I forget now but in my dream it was **** important! Now that I'm awake, trying to write a poem that captures the meaning all I can tell you, as you read my heart is that no one can tell you when to start caring about your dreams. Get on your moral high ground and shout out to the world "I'm MAD as HELL and I'm NOT gonna TAKE it ANYMORE!" And unless you get knocked off your high horse and unless you find your voice dry, horse,   don't stop yelling until others join you-- because they will join you. We all want freedom We all want the dream, but will we fight for it to make it happen? Would you fight for love, For life?? Would you fight for survival? This is it, its this or oblivion, its sustain our childish fever of consumption, level out our infantile pride or rest quietly into forever. They say sustainability is what were after but what we really mean is sanity; they say rational policy is what were after but really what we mean is enlightenment. I'm asking you to change the wheel of your mind and your asking me to hold my order until the window! Can I have fries with that? Make it a KING sized! **** your frizzy fries, and your listless orders, I want none of them, give me liberty or give me DEATH!
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Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 10:14 AM UTC
Sustainable Planet
The pimple faced gernment representative told me I had to hold my pollinated dreams until next season. And in my school house dream matthew told me his dream nothing less than Sustainable Planet And as I started to argue, I realized, my mouth was full of seasoned nuts full of warehoused food, because I could not attend lunch, at this newly packed cafeteria; I was on a mission to... I forget now but in my dream it was **** important! Now that I'm awake, trying to write a poem that captures the meaning all I can tell you, as you read my heart is that no one can tell you when to start caring about your dreams. Get on your moral high ground and shout out to the world "I'm MAD as HELL and I'm NOT gonna TAKE it ANYMORE!" And unless you get knocked off your high horse and unless you find your voice dry, horse,   don't stop yelling until others join you-- because they will join you. We all want freedom We all want the dream, but will we fight for it to make it happen? Would you fight for love, For life?? Would you fight for survival? This is it, its this or oblivion, its sustain our childish fever of consumption, level out our infantile pride or rest quietly into forever. They say sustainability is what were after but what we really mean is sanity; they say rational policy is what were after but really what we mean is enlightenment. I'm asking you to change the wheel of your mind and your asking me to hold my order until the window! Can I have fries with that? Make it a KING sized! **** your frizzy fries, and your listless orders, I want none of them, give me liberty or give me DEATH!
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41
My dreams whisper sweet things And surreptitiously speak to me My waking words are rote and empty -spilling with hypocrisy Yet their comforting embrace Simply bring smiles to my face Filling my mind while I'm asleep They send messages lined with silver That vanish when I wake To bring about a dull and listless form Who is shaping my last mistake You see I wake in a storm Simultaneously feeling constrained To my bed I can't get up while there's no filter For the rush of noises in my head If there's a difference between What you know and what you believe Then why is it not as easy To imagine my reprieve Why can I only experience a vivid life While I sleep Then once again wake up To this Fear Doubt and Anger Choking me Invoking me by pushing buttons Of their endless promises To for certain be found in youth While my vision is livid sinning Contemplating and pinpointing Who too close is uncouth You sit there and feed my veins An explanation to your lies With all the compromised Washed up water Memorized methods Coping mechanisms While it's your heart that remains Aloof Then sit there in desperation Reiterating as if you know The deep introspective answer When any fool can see your wisdom Is wrought in the vanity Of a talented dancer If you lost the truth of sanity Would you retrieve it for ten cents Or would you search inside Before hiding from the confines Of a necessary moment I'd rather die or sacrifice my life Before cowering from what's hidden The message so raw That counts your flaws Like there was some proof In what is missing But ultimately I guess It comes down to the small decision The chip on my shoulder That became a boulder When I reached out For my inner vision. So while I feel so disparate and alone In the trenches losing my senses Will I be the hero or be the villain Will I let the poison make me it's toy Or take the penicillin *Some days my life feels as heavy As that last breath left over From how loudly I shout But I guess a general synopsis to you Of how I sometimes feel inside Is a decent first step to waking up While I'm down and out*
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Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 4:53 AM UTC
Waking Up
My dreams whisper sweet things And surreptitiously speak to me My waking words are rote and empty -spilling with hypocrisy Yet their comforting embrace Simply bring smiles to my face Filling my mind while I'm asleep They send messages lined with silver That vanish when I wake To bring about a dull and listless form Who is shaping my last mistake You see I wake in a storm Simultaneously feeling constrained To my bed I can't get up while there's no filter For the rush of noises in my head If there's a difference between What you know and what you believe Then why is it not as easy To imagine my reprieve Why can I only experience a vivid life While I sleep Then once again wake up To this Fear Doubt and Anger Choking me Invoking me by pushing buttons Of their endless promises To for certain be found in youth While my vision is livid sinning Contemplating and pinpointing Who too close is uncouth You sit there and feed my veins An explanation to your lies With all the compromised Washed up water Memorized methods Coping mechanisms While it's your heart that remains Aloof Then sit there in desperation Reiterating as if you know The deep introspective answer When any fool can see your wisdom Is wrought in the vanity Of a talented dancer If you lost the truth of sanity Would you retrieve it for ten cents Or would you search inside Before hiding from the confines Of a necessary moment I'd rather die or sacrifice my life Before cowering from what's hidden The message so raw That counts your flaws Like there was some proof In what is missing But ultimately I guess It comes down to the small decision The chip on my shoulder That became a boulder When I reached out For my inner vision. So while I feel so disparate and alone In the trenches losing my senses Will I be the hero or be the villain Will I let the poison make me it's toy Or take the penicillin *Some days my life feels as heavy As that last breath left over From how loudly I shout But I guess a general synopsis to you Of how I sometimes feel inside Is a decent first step to waking up While I'm down and out*
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71
Standing on the Precipice of Time.... Watching the birds fall from the sky... Life is getting lifeless... listless, unruly And who or what is killing the bees? Flowers that have lost their fragrance... Words that have double meanings - Life is filled with uncertainty - surely. I observe the mountains as they melt Into the ****** sea Fish are floating - not swimming Animals disappearing while lifeless, lonely trees Seem to glare at the sun Begging for air - no oxygen to spare What has happened to this paradise of ours? Did we fall asleep and slumber too much While wasting the hours? Did we think it would last forever While we tended it not... Consuming, consuming - eating & drinking Leaving it all in a pile to rot
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Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 9:38 PM UTC
Our Disappearing World ©2015, Willowmena Wren
i love alliteration like kings love living like lions love killing like love lost leaves aching and wonder wide wonder where we were, when we were we were so... alive. awesome. some sleep. others dream. fetch fire from fire blaze blaze and black opposites. awesome opposites. still not us. some sleep. some slip away. slippery like fish. i dont like fish very much. live late. love long. life if it is life lives lest life linger, sub-par sub-average far more fitting. (the former phrase, of course, following "fish" sans "sub-" sentences) some sleep, some dream. others, oddly enough, bother both both worlds, which while one works without what one would supply (some sleepers dont dream) dreamers, sometimes, seldom sleep. rather, wrestle restlessly, fervently futile fights fighting fear, hate, hardship, hardly having strength to share their ideas. folly. does it seem, slightly that they need both? sleep and strength? brains and brawn? take teamwork, temporarily. you and i... we we would win. we wish, we wonder, we wander wherever. we watch, we would, whatever, win. because we live. like lines long for letters which would whittle words from whiteness we would work with one another and, so, we could rule the world. would you rule with me? please? because i love alliteration like lines and letters love leading listless eyes lacking lids courses carved across canvas craving closure. craving cause. point. place a period. pause. pax. peace. pretty please?
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Feb 28, 2012
Feb 28, 2012 at 2:26 AM UTC
[untitled 1]
Your skin glows Like peach blossoms As lovely as daffodils In the purest hope of spring My heart strings follow each strum of a harp Your voice a hypnotic melody I leap like a cricket at the whisper of your name The evening floats On a great parrot wing I am comforted With you by my side I hold you tight Like two twilight beams across the sky In the listless evening I listen for the last chime of the day I lye with you In lavender moonlight Hand-in-hand we reach our destiny For a mystical shower of love
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Nov 9, 2010
Nov 9, 2010 at 6:50 AM UTC
Lavender Moonlight
Now here you come again to fetch me from the sea, Ballast in my bones, this girl was born to sink; A cautionary tale, I slip between the wood, Limbs whittled thin and feet stained with soot. But never-mind the waif; she waxes so pale Drunk on dejection, I ponder the veil Leaden and listless, for the sirens will sing: Amaranthine is the color I bleed for the sea. So I’ll spit out my sorrows wherever they listen, Pumped me with pills and said that they fixed it. The darlings have died off; the dolls are all broken, Just left is me, thin-skinned and soft spoken. And I’d rather lick knives than chew on love’s gristle, Like a dog on a chain, I’d run when you whistle. Far from it now, yet lost in the maze: Chasing ways out for the rest of my daze.
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Dec 18, 2022
Dec 18, 2022 at 2:18 PM UTC
Anecdotal Evidence
There's spring and there's summer, there's all that's in between no listless skies of anodyne; now nature flaunts and preens What beauty fills the hungry eye 'neath a sky of blue, serene verdant vales soaked in sun, awash in palettes of green There are pastels that awaken and deep shades that passion brews created hues that trickle...sprinkled with 'chartreuse' There's the green of 'asparagus' and that of 'artichokes' Of 'forest', 'ferns' , of 'moss', a brush of different strokes Fragrant plants of 'mint', then 'myrtle' and 'green tea' 'Emerald', 'jade' or 'harlequin' and 'malachites' that be Off creamy shells, just 'pistachio', 'green apples', then of 'pines' It lies too in 'sap' and 'teal', in 'avocados' and tangy 'lime' There's green of the 'mantis', in 'jungle', 'hunters' and 'shamrock' The lithe 'parakeet' fluttering and the lazy sanguine 'croc' In blessed 'basil', ' pickle', in 'pear', 'olives' in 'bottle green' 'Gourds' and 'peas' that farmers grow in cultivars pristine 'Tis there in 'aqua' and 'seaweed', in the ripple of 'sea green' waves In 'turtles', 'sea foam', 'anemone' and a 'tropical glistening lake' From 'laurel green' to an 'army green' , in 'sage' ( a shade of grey ) The color of 'grass' , the murky 'swamp' , hues in array There's 'neon' and an 'Indian green', a 'Persian' one to mystify A 'midnight green' to bright 'fluorescent', oh, for green rainbows in the eye
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Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 10:30 AM UTC
Fifty shades of Green