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"lush" poems
Sitting in some car in a forgotten parking lot Grey marks the skies Lush green plants peeping in The wildlife of concrete and paint makes the perfect background For Little ***** of liquid heaven falling on my windscreen And some music to complete the scene Each guitar line synchronises with each raindrop Each blast of power thunder hits hard like heavy metal But the soft clouds, the gentle ebb and flow lull me to sleep Whispering, persuading me to dream But I really don't want to miss this shard of time I never want to lose little moments like these A silver raindrop is born by landing on my car Crash landing, rather The bubbling pocket of mystery travels down Swerving and slamming into other fellow pockets in crime It's life cycle completes when it reaches the bottom It races to it's death, unable to stop gravity's plan for it Each drop morphs into another, making a wave The rain weaves an intricate web of waves All strutting their sparkly magic before me I sense a metaphor for humanity creeping in Millions of crescendos growing about Too concerned with their internal politics to worry about others But I stay focused on the beauty all around I wonder if heaven has rainy days If so, this must be one of them
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Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 12:28 PM UTC
That Rain Poem
My name is Sara, a transgender chick Wanted a ***** was given a **** I hide it in knickers of satin and lace before sitting down to make-up my face, Next the prosthetics, I'm using two bits. Stuck to my chest, they'll do as my **** Now for my legs I'll put on false tan, I wouldn't do this if I were a man Alternative nights, a t-girl delights to sit on her bed and pull on new tights. I'll put on a dress, a cute one no less. Then for my shoes, high heels I choose A sandal style shoe as every girl knows not only looks cute, they'll show painted toes A bit of eyeliner, eyebrow definer, lipstick and blush, I'm now looking lush. I stand in the mirror all ready to go, there's only one question I just have to know. "Does my *** look big in this?" Poetry by Kaydee.
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Dec 18, 2017
Dec 18, 2017 at 4:02 PM UTC
TGirl.
The air is perfumed with fresh rosemary's And the wild springs with lush berries Their presence colours the nursery with a sweet loom It bleeds into the forecast for tomorrow's gloom Nostalgia hits hard, heartbreaking and eerie For a day when I wasn't paranoid and weary Well, I'll be down by the Brighton pier Watching birds float past in lonely fear I'd love to turn away The pristine sun shines like Hades The outside scent is yellow, maybe Little daises laugh in the foreground Gardens sow a loving sound Once I could see hope in the trees And the love that whispered on the breeze Now the trees foreshadow longing And the gale howls with wronging I'd love to turn away The intimacy in my yellow tinted flowers seems to have faded And the soft orchards have been invaded My words burnt in a smouldering pile of dust And steaming with the heat of my lust I told a crowd I had something to say But the people turned away away away...
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Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 1:12 PM UTC
Yellow Tinted Flowers
in a low silky voice he whispers ***** ***** ***** he's at the gym not to far in the tub at the spa come ***** dear lets have lots a fun and kiss a while he licks you some he loves you so would you like a big mouse he has one honey and its not your spouse a crazy boy all over you drinks you like wine and eats you like stew he's not about kids and going to work but he washes your dishes and hes not a **** ***** perfume the natural smell don't hide it sweet girl watch him swell oh comb it pretty loves hairy too spread it like butter hoochi coohi cooo don't be shy and open wide coax out your **** and feel the glide hes the ***** whisperer calling your soul loving every fold melting every hole summer sweet fruit hidden away come on honey let's dance and play candy **** and ***** pie sweet juicy lush down velvety thigh he's got a nice one its really cool a big pink stick that makes you drool he's the ***** whisperer calling in time come hither my love its not a crime* meowwwww
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May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 11:32 AM UTC
THE ***** WHISPERER
she loved thunder storms most of all the crackle of white hot bolts ripping through the sky the sheer immensity of power she always thought it was him her beloved God big boy Thor with his flowing blond hair blue aquatic eyes washboard stomach and delicately curved ***** finally a man good enough for her even if he was fly by night when the heavens thickened gray like soggy cotton she could feel atmospheres shift it made her ******* pert her mouth would salivate like a lurid peach her ***** swelled and dampened tears of adoration and enchantment filled her eyes no longer able to contain her self she would strip naked fling off her ******* and run out to the lush verdant meadows calling at the top of her lungs yoooooooooo hooooooooooo as the cool rain descended she ran thrilled to the mud between her toes seeing great claws of white lightening  echo through the sky without hesitation she fell to the cool earth beneath her wallowing in the delicious sloshing ooze positioning her self on all fours head thrown back *** up high calling to the heavens come on, come on big boy ive been waiting for you let me have it good her clitoral lips drooled with anticipation her ****** a pulsating aching the sky rumbled with stretching streaks of fire like a great freight train spanning infinity while the earth shook like a hollow moon she swayed her hips rhythmically to and fro whispering a love song *oh sir i need a man like you wont you love me adorations true i kneel before my sweet Lord Thor where's that hammer come on and score you are so big and im so little how about it God just a tickle hit it now give it to me good kisses baby like only you could* tears of desire cascaded down her pink cheeks as she recited her love mantra her mouth naked wet suddenly a great bolt of lightening shot down from heavens throne entering her ****** splitting her in flames her head turned dark mahogany sent careening fifty yards leaving her mouth a yawning twisted smudge of fossilized obsidian with eyes blackened flaring hollows her tender pink **** a charred flower smoldering like a petite grilled calamari
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Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 9:45 AM UTC
*GIRL IN A STORM
she loved thunder storms most of all the crackle of white hot bolts ripping through the sky the sheer immensity of power she always thought it was him her beloved God big boy Thor with his flowing blond hair blue aquatic eyes washboard stomach and delicately curved ***** finally a man good enough for her even if he was fly by night when the heavens thickened gray like soggy cotton she could feel atmospheres shift it made her ******* pert her mouth would salivate like a lurid peach her ***** swelled and dampened tears of adoration and enchantment filled her eyes no longer able to contain her self she would strip naked fling off her ******* and run out to the lush verdant meadows calling at the top of her lungs yoooooooooo hooooooooooo as the cool rain descended she ran thrilled to the mud between her toes seeing great claws of white lightening  echo through the sky without hesitation she fell to the cool earth beneath her wallowing in the delicious sloshing ooze positioning her self on all fours head thrown back *** up high calling to the heavens come on, come on big boy ive been waiting for you let me have it good her clitoral lips drooled with anticipation her ****** a pulsating aching the sky rumbled with stretching streaks of fire like a great freight train spanning infinity while the earth shook like a hollow moon she swayed her hips rhythmically to and fro whispering a love song *oh sir i need a man like you wont you love me adorations true i kneel before my sweet Lord Thor where's that hammer come on and score you are so big and im so little how about it God just a tickle hit it now give it to me good kisses baby like only you could* tears of desire cascaded down her pink cheeks as she recited her love mantra her mouth naked wet suddenly a great bolt of lightening shot down from heavens throne entering her ****** splitting her in flames her head turned dark mahogany sent careening fifty yards leaving her mouth a yawning twisted smudge of fossilized obsidian with eyes blackened flaring hollows her tender pink **** a charred flower smoldering like a petite grilled calamari
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1 Backwater nymph, queen of serpentine black tresses flaunting its coconut oil gleam; envy of  leggy girls from the Western ghat mountains, and lissome  maidens from the plains, who can never eat as much fish, even if they wish. Wearing hibiscus flowers, on coiffure like hood of a king cobra, your coral lips  silently speak of hot peppery kisses, waiting for me at shaded corners. Your sultry body in me arouses desires, that could only be whispered in your ears. 2 On a coconut lagoon when we met, for the first time and spoke, non stop, as if we knew each other life long, I heard music in your words. Oh! in the tongue you spoke, I heard the cadence of a nightingale ecstatic, on its wings above the clouds, love had prompted us to fly above the storms. Your  gleaming coal black eyes, like silver hooks, tug at my heart strings, that makes music, only I can hear, you are a free flying lark, above Kerala's lush coconut coast, that extends from sea shore to the mountains. 3 **When we relished steaming brown rice, mixed with clarified butter, with spicy tuna curry, tasting so dainty, cooked in bubbling sweet coconut milk, my eyes like two crazy butterflies circled your face, a blossomed Champak*. Mashed cassava and roasted squid, melted on our tongues, in a perfect culinary language any one would understand without effort. 4 Your lips had cinnamon scent, spice land's boons, when we kissed we touched heaven of scents and spicy tastes. When our eyes fell on each other, near the ancient synagogue, the hay days of which is over, a long jasmine garland coiling your hair,     marked you different, from the  the ladies of your neighborhood,                                           surrounding you. How well you did pretend that you have never seen my face before! You have mastered love's cunning, and all the wily tricks to cheat the enemies of our fiery love my Freudian mind perfectly understood. Just imagine the brouhaha we would invite, when we elope, in the last boat, to Alappuzha, stealthily at midnight.*
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May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 1:33 PM UTC
A love song for my Cochin* girl
1 Backwater nymph, queen of serpentine black tresses flaunting its coconut oil gleam; envy of  leggy girls from the Western ghat mountains, and lissome  maidens from the plains, who can never eat as much fish, even if they wish. Wearing hibiscus flowers, on coiffure like hood of a king cobra, your coral lips  silently speak of hot peppery kisses, waiting for me at shaded corners. Your sultry body in me arouses desires, that could only be whispered in your ears. 2 On a coconut lagoon when we met, for the first time and spoke, non stop, as if we knew each other life long, I heard music in your words. Oh! in the tongue you spoke, I heard the cadence of a nightingale ecstatic, on its wings above the clouds, love had prompted us to fly above the storms. Your  gleaming coal black eyes, like silver hooks, tug at my heart strings, that makes music, only I can hear, you are a free flying lark, above Kerala's lush coconut coast, that extends from sea shore to the mountains. 3 **When we relished steaming brown rice, mixed with clarified butter, with spicy tuna curry, tasting so dainty, cooked in bubbling sweet coconut milk, my eyes like two crazy butterflies circled your face, a blossomed Champak*. Mashed cassava and roasted squid, melted on our tongues, in a perfect culinary language any one would understand without effort. 4 Your lips had cinnamon scent, spice land's boons, when we kissed we touched heaven of scents and spicy tastes. When our eyes fell on each other, near the ancient synagogue, the hay days of which is over, a long jasmine garland coiling your hair,     marked you different, from the  the ladies of your neighborhood,                                           surrounding you. How well you did pretend that you have never seen my face before! You have mastered love's cunning, and all the wily tricks to cheat the enemies of our fiery love my Freudian mind perfectly understood. Just imagine the brouhaha we would invite, when we elope, in the last boat, to Alappuzha, stealthily at midnight.*
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61
Lush is the quietude of the late Saturday afternoon, rich are the silencing sounds, as variegated as the shades of greens of a man-seeded, nature-patchworked lawn rays reveal some bright, some yellowed spots, all a potent color palette resting worry wearied eyes, untroubled by the gentle fading light's illumination, that soon will disappear and seal officially, another week gone by the lawn, acting as an ceiling acoustic tile, absorbing and reflecting the varied din of disharmonious natural sounds orchestrated, an ever present reminder      that true quiet is not the absence of noise I hear the chill in the air, insects debating vociferously their Saturday evening plans, the waves broom-swishing beach debris, pretending to be young parents putting away the children's toys for the eve the birds speak in Babel multitudes of tongues, chirps, whistles, clicks and clacks, then going strangely silent as if all were praying collectively the afternoon sabbath service, with an intensity of the silent devotion this moment, i cannot well enough communicate, this trump of light absolutes, and animal maybes, that are visually and aurally presented  in a living surround sound screen, Dolby, of course, all a plot of ease and gentility, in toto, sweet serenity here to cease, no more tinkering, leave well enough, plenty well enough
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Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 10:39 AM UTC
Lush is the quietude of the late Saturday afternoon
I recognise those tired eyes with fond recollections how we made them so by the lush warmth of the fireside through the night: decadent movements. Oh, how those eyes and your body glowed.
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Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 6:01 PM UTC
Tired Eyes
*consciously, willfully, I wish it quietly the Sunday, the sun day, drifts toward, in its natural game, set, overmatched, the foregone conclusion, nightfall diminishment the water songfully swishes, as the tide departs for places unknown, this then, now the only natural authorized aural apparition, the power boats renounce their normal noisy conditioning, honoring their silenced, under-sail brethren, as well as admitting their noises disfigure the fast approaching majesty of the end of our summer seasoning of humanity consciously, willfully, I wish it once again, lush is the quietude,^ now given up, surrendered and surceased to wonder, how come I to write of these moments so oft, thenever-ending quest to re-inscribe it on my sensibilities, in vainglorious hopes that this stamping will last, be the last, see me through the turgid frigidity of my Lucifer life, come the fall, the winter, the early dark, the daylight's brevity, the hurricane season of the mind, that...need I say more? consciously, willfully, I wish it the particular white cloud formation of the moment at hand, shall stay in place,  be the capstone of my summer living vision, become permanent part and parcel of the sclera, the white of my eyes, and when I will write, soon enough, my vision white weeping clouded, you will weep knowingly, sympathetically consciously, willfully, I wish for that as well* 8/27/17 6:35pm
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Aug 29, 2017
Aug 29, 2017 at 10:38 AM UTC
the lush peace and quiet of volition, on a Sunday afternoon
Her name is Sarah And between her legs A flower. A Begonia Lush, Desirable, and Sweet Beautiful. Her name is Olivia And between her legs A flower. A Bird of Paradise Exotic & Captivating, Deep Beautiful. Her name Tanya And between her legs A flower. A Calla Lilly Intuitive, Dreamy, Refined Beautiful. Her name is Sumi And between her legs A flower. A Dahlia Grace, Strength, & Valued Beautiful. Her name is Diana And between her legs A flower. A Moonflower Delicate & Feminine Beautiful. My name is Hannah And between my legs A flower. An Azalea Fragile, Sweet, & Tender Beautiful.
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Aug 5, 2016
Aug 5, 2016 at 6:42 AM UTC
A ****** & A Flower; Beautiful
"Purple Orchid" A symbol of rare beauty Exotic. Delicate. Mysterious Precious, in every way Lost in a tropical land of Purple Haze, I am there Whispering with a tinge of Innocence yet wild With passionate dark desires. A calm stability of blue and The fierce energy of red Stimulating mystery and thrill, A darkened flower Of refined passion With strikingly lush petals, Intoxicating. In his mind, I am A Purple Orchid
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Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
Purple Orchid
Once I undertook a journey, upon the very face of our entire world. To view for myself the many pictures, and written descriptions in all the geography books and History Classes, National Geographic magazines and movies seen. A Quest to see with my own eyes what I had only experienced second hand. In my mid twenties, like a dream, one foot in front of the other, I went about exploring. I sniffed and tasted the scents of foreign lands, Incense, Sage and Frankincense, fish curry, fried snake and even monkey brains. Walked in lush Jungle Bush and Desert sands, Along the shores of Islands and the coasts of many lands. Heard the voices of 30 divergent Dialects and cultures, smiling and laughing with the families and children of all of them. Set beside the fires of primitive tribal men, heard their chants to their gods above, the moon, stars and the sun, the ocean, the land. Clapped my hands and moved my feet in their ancient mystic dances. Drank their tea, Kava or whatever they shared grateful for their offered unselfish brotherhood. Stood on the flanks of the tallest Mountains in the world, on my toe tips, to try to see the face of the God of my youthful teachings, disappointed when I did not see him, or Her. Found instead an inner tranquility, imparted to me by Red robbed Monks from within their chants of Peace and wise earthly enlightenments. Strolled the cobbled streets of two thousand year old Cities. Walked among the ruined remnants of nearly forgotten once great Civilizations. Explored Modern European Citadels' of wealth and learning. Over time rode on planes, ships, buses, backs of open trucks, Horse pulled carts and human drawn rickshaws, taxis, subways, rented motorcycles and cars.  Walked perhaps 1000 miles. In all a journey of the mind and heart lasting three years. And why you might ask, "What qualifies you as a pilgrim of any kind, to travel so far, and wide?" "What was I looking for, what did I hope to find?"   All indeed, fare questions. When a boy, I read a simple five word line, “Seek and thee shall find". Curiosity and Horizon Lust compelled me.   The next obvious question you might ask is, after all that; “What did you find?” That answer is very simple, I found myself.
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Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 7:14 PM UTC
. . . . . . . . Seek . . .
Once I undertook a journey, upon the very face of our entire world. To view for myself the many pictures, and written descriptions in all the geography books and History Classes, National Geographic magazines and movies seen. A Quest to see with my own eyes what I had only experienced second hand. In my mid twenties, like a dream, one foot in front of the other, I went about exploring. I sniffed and tasted the scents of foreign lands, Incense, Sage and Frankincense, fish curry, fried snake and even monkey brains. Walked in lush Jungle Bush and Desert sands, Along the shores of Islands and the coasts of many lands. Heard the voices of 30 divergent Dialects and cultures, smiling and laughing with the families and children of all of them. Set beside the fires of primitive tribal men, heard their chants to their gods above, the moon, stars and the sun, the ocean, the land. Clapped my hands and moved my feet in their ancient mystic dances. Drank their tea, Kava or whatever they shared grateful for their offered unselfish brotherhood. Stood on the flanks of the tallest Mountains in the world, on my toe tips, to try to see the face of the God of my youthful teachings, disappointed when I did not see him, or Her. Found instead an inner tranquility, imparted to me by Red robbed Monks from within their chants of Peace and wise earthly enlightenments. Strolled the cobbled streets of two thousand year old Cities. Walked among the ruined remnants of nearly forgotten once great Civilizations. Explored Modern European Citadels' of wealth and learning. Over time rode on planes, ships, buses, backs of open trucks, Horse pulled carts and human drawn rickshaws, taxis, subways, rented motorcycles and cars.  Walked perhaps 1000 miles. In all a journey of the mind and heart lasting three years. And why you might ask, "What qualifies you as a pilgrim of any kind, to travel so far, and wide?" "What was I looking for, what did I hope to find?"   All indeed, fare questions. When a boy, I read a simple five word line, “Seek and thee shall find". Curiosity and Horizon Lust compelled me.   The next obvious question you might ask is, after all that; “What did you find?” That answer is very simple, I found myself.
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53
His hands are long, calloused and inviting. Scars tell stories, scattered across his knuckles. He has one hand cradled in the other, tapping and rubbing his palm with his fingers. His mind is a jungle: heavy, sticky, lush, challenging to navigate, surrounded by undecayed green and unobstructed sea. “Are you anxious?” His hands are moving rapidly, yellow parrotbills flitting in and out of the tall tree trunks and violet, epiphytic orchids of his mind. Turning to face me, he stretches his lips into a smile. He assures me that he is fine, but he doesn’t see any birds.
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Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 12:20 PM UTC
Epiphyte
I loved most of all a cold blue eyed doll. I knew that fall, I'd fall for a doll. Red my doll if it could blush, how most I'd get a such and such and my mind, a grove, a lush such and such. Then a doll raises peaceful uproars, if it weren't alive then before, I'd pray peace at its door the **** 'll open before me. I beg and steal for all, I begged for this blue eyed doll, we're stuck between ourselves and lawls, that uttered from a cold, white, doll.
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Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 8:31 AM UTC
The Doll
I haven’t done this in a while Is it silly to be nervous? My door bell rings My heart speeds Mother calls “Daisy!” And I realize she means me I haven’t done this in a while Is it foolish to be restless? I take the steps one by one Being sure not to topple down The door creaks open and I can see him standing there now. I haven’t done this in a while Is it odd to jump into his arms? He smiles at me and my mother He answers questions from my father Everything is perfect But I can’t help but fidget. I haven’t done this in a while Is it wrong to want to run? We leave the house and walk down A path of many flowers I’m unsure what to think But I find myself counting the hours. I haven’t done this in a while Is it childish to hold his hand? I get into his car Smoothing my skirt and catching breaths He pulls out something for me now And my heart takes a rest. I haven’t done this in a while Is it alright to try to kiss him? I smell the Daisies, white and lush Loyally loving and so gentle Does he know I cherish them such? Not just for the name we share Or the thorns they lack unlike roses Not for the simplicity of their petals so fair But for the meaning behind them Loving, loyal; so gentle, so innocent I haven’t done this in a while But I think I can handle it now.
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May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 7:37 PM UTC
A First Date With Daisy
Ove As love remove the glove from my eyes like dark See's the light In the journey of disprove by true love So as fox glove can not hold a ladylove from the light in mourning love over me In a selflove state I began approve my love with reprove pains in my eyes, I switch. Oh your love is sad ,she said "badlove is not mad ,"he replied" So ,farfad people had no love by their dad JUST to be grad that my hands is on a footpad or a lush No love on ove.
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Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 4:48 AM UTC
OVE
The blue Arabian sea, the towering Western Ghats This then is Kerala the most beautiful Indian state Lush green hill stations, lowland paddy fields All are in Kerala between the mountains and the sea Fourty four rivers flow so water here for all Exotic plants in abundance beside the waterfalls Enchanting emerald back waters put here for your delight The days are never long enough to view each wonderous site Kerala is called gods own country, the reasons very clear Wildlife abounds, exotic birds and sika deer Here you will live longer than in any other state Fresh food in abundance and low mortality rate Why don't you come and visit this paradise on earth And take away the memories that you will always cherish
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Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 3:22 PM UTC
KERALA
Mr. handsome stranger He’s coming after Desperate like a last request Frantic delusional lunatic Unhinged fragile losing what’s left Self serving sadomasochistic Easy on the eyes but doesn’t quite fit in Playing it cool in social situations His intelligent banter he claims as his own With somewhat smart comebacks he practiced at home Trying so hard that the sweat beads down Onto his stressed wrinkled furrowed brow the stories he skillfully misdirected   Carefully darting  unwanted questions Mr. Indiscreet can’t blow his cover Disarm the girl of his unrealistic dreams How quite average and normal he can be Mr. Stalker walks over to the Girl works up the courage and talks to her Strikes up a witty conversation With his movie star smile and education Using the words that he pre rehearsed Says all the right things and compliments her Looking past his rather peculiar behavior And when politely asked gives up her number He rings her up the very next day With a romantic scenic picnic date Under the shade of a lush green tree Upon a blanket with wine and cheese Playing the part of the handsome boyfriend Gains her full trust and faith in him Joking in a effort to make her laugh To put her at ease and follow his plan Jealous of her ex boyfriends Knowing their names and full address And when he drops her off at home Tracks and follows her every move Knows all her weekly kept routines Threatens and blackmails all her friends Studies everyday mundane errands Unaware of his decent into madness
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Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 8:28 AM UTC
Mr. Handsome
Mr. handsome stranger He’s coming after Desperate like a last request Frantic delusional lunatic Unhinged fragile losing what’s left Self serving sadomasochistic Easy on the eyes but doesn’t quite fit in Playing it cool in social situations His intelligent banter he claims as his own With somewhat smart comebacks he practiced at home Trying so hard that the sweat beads down Onto his stressed wrinkled furrowed brow the stories he skillfully misdirected   Carefully darting  unwanted questions Mr. Indiscreet can’t blow his cover Disarm the girl of his unrealistic dreams How quite average and normal he can be Mr. Stalker walks over to the Girl works up the courage and talks to her Strikes up a witty conversation With his movie star smile and education Using the words that he pre rehearsed Says all the right things and compliments her Looking past his rather peculiar behavior And when politely asked gives up her number He rings her up the very next day With a romantic scenic picnic date Under the shade of a lush green tree Upon a blanket with wine and cheese Playing the part of the handsome boyfriend Gains her full trust and faith in him Joking in a effort to make her laugh To put her at ease and follow his plan Jealous of her ex boyfriends Knowing their names and full address And when he drops her off at home Tracks and follows her every move Knows all her weekly kept routines Threatens and blackmails all her friends Studies everyday mundane errands Unaware of his decent into madness
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*She's like deliquescent caramel, the cool side of a pillow         to lay your weary head, subtleties of springtime &      warmth in wintertide, whispering hope upon lush           Zephyrus pipe dreams,   mellifluous nymph with wings                  of a butterfly warrior, softly determined,     unfailingly true-hearted,      whilst relentlessly ferocious   Wise, yet sometimes struts        blindly in the light,      as dulcet tones of a cello's         melodious marmalade          in sentiment's tender fancy, she's beauty, charm,          knowledge, poetry,                utter strength,                & humane weaknesses, she's twisted and ethereal,            her aura sublimely captivating      you may covet her body,             you'll never possess her soul*
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Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 9:32 AM UTC
She's like deliquescent caramel
i woke up this morning and i was in a rainforest and i didn't know how to feel so i felt happy i woke up this morning and i was in a rainforest green and lush and tropical and full of hidden life i woke up this morning and i was not in my bed anymore i was on the dense canopy floor beneath graceful towering giants i woke up this morning and i was in a rainforest and i didn't know what to feel so i felt wonder i looked around at what had sprung up over night and i realized that it had been there all along
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May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 12:19 PM UTC
i woke up this morning and i was in a rainforest
In the pursuit of happiness I walked the roads, I stopped at milestones, leaned on posts. I saw a flock of birds in flight, Rings of gold.. an orb so bright. I looked around at mountain walls, The raging sea, white frothy falls. I looked up at the sky serene, The valley lush a summer green. Banyan trees with leaves bedecked, Gulmohars lined with blossoms red. Faces walked engrossed in streets, A touch, a nod when eyes would meet.. Saw hunger, anguish, weary eyes, Sorrow, terror, shock, surprise, I saw the tears of loss and grief, Faith, resilience, resolve, belief. I heard the laughter of a child, I saw the magic of a smile. A hug, a kiss, a warm caress, A helping hand that love expressed I felt the cord of love that binds, Hearts across the world and time. I found happiness in little things, In nature that surprises springs.. His art, the colors that I saw, That left me breathless, full of awe, Happiness in that special touch, In smiles, laughter, that gentle brush. In kind words that wonders do, In love that breathes life anew. In all things that I could see, I knew happiness begins with me, Within me what I see or do, The trail of thoughts I send to you. And happiness is what I found, When happiness was spread around.
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Feb 8, 2017
Feb 8, 2017 at 9:06 AM UTC
The Pursuit of Happiness
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
Sleeping in a silent forest night sky come and swallow me whole I promise I won't protest These stars may fill my tired soul And these trees, oh, how I love thee Lush and green, dark and eerie This is where I long to be Here is where I'd never be weary I put my life onto the earth Dig myself a hole for a bed This is where lies all lifes worth Here everything is, I miss nothing I haven't had Roots may pervade me, leafs shall cover And in my stead another will grow I will dissolve in the arms of my last lover And of all misfortune it will never speak nor will it show On new branches my soul will hang until another
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Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 7:13 AM UTC
Sepulchre