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"magnetize" poems
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, feel with others and make them understood:-> in her feels not mine to be in her exclamations a secret to the seeking  havens I see just from the beginning I confess I blurt must bring respect to hands of dust undone by the noise maybe breathed to the wrong soils for me to you its a pathetic muse for you to me its a phenomenal---an interlude wrapped around a neck a tormenting noose for the lines might be altogether attached yet by the hearts ultimately snatched yet the pieces left broken swept under the deeps of the rug gone unspoken strangling up to the muffled tears been shed been dear even when life is brought to its feet still bound to magnetize she drugs our feels your moons---a blessing in a demon to the darks not a silver not a golden not a dime a ricocheting stark painted on ceilings are you an angel haunted by the devils??? seems like God is unfair sorting mindlessly things just for hearts to rebel a past life you wish you could speak of you may from them those of the brutal realizes to draw out through the way disguised on the pretends you pay so **** miserable for me to digest to decay what about you the owner of a curse everyday??? believed to be a sad sad serenade just from the no ending where I await a second I confess I blurt I must say                                                                                  ------ravenfeels
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Apr 2, 2021
Apr 2, 2021 at 12:57 PM UTC
In Her Feels Not Mine To Be
I can feel you near me Whenever you are close. You're like an overdose on E My tank is on F I want to swim past your knees And take one last deep breath before Submerging myself Into the salacious, incredulously insatious, Caribbean Sea-warm Oasis At the apex of your thighs. I will set sail ships in your eyes Questing for you to magnetize me in the direction towards the destin of my fate. The question is Once I'm in Can your Vaginal Strait Navigate me In the deep dark cavity of your hips Or can your lips Narrate Irrigate me to the waterfalls of your heart I want to split your valves apart and Let Love Pour. I want to anchor permanently on the sink-sands of your shores; I want to be closer to you than I've ever been before... I want you to feel me.
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Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 3:49 PM UTC
Ocean Potion
Missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me. I like to play a game called hard to forget. Rose petal lips wish for your attention. Attention: tomorrow you’ll wish we’d never met. Lean a little closer, and just give in. Bust through that barrier, blocking your desire. Feel the radiation as you touch my skin. Our eyes magnetize, signing a single contract. Your stone-carved face fills my vision. Hesitate for a moment, entertaining free will. That’s silly. Dropping that was a condition. Your mouth’s warm breeze tantalizes my lips, but we stay stubborn still. Always and forever. I wrote in pencil. Veracity in my eyes; “Baby, I can’t lie.” Touch. Spark. Ignition. This fire you can handle, You think. I inhale, to let out a siren’s sigh. It’s too late now. The spell has been cast. I’ve infected your present. You won’t be the last. You’ll never forget. Kissed me kissed me. Now you’re gonna miss me.
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Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 3:42 AM UTC
Love Games
believing, it seems to me, is the root of all knowing, for what i have found is worth far more than all i have lost. what i once took for granted, i now embrace each day, like a breath of frigid air on a morning laced with ice. you magnetize me into delight so deep and dark. you are swirling, yes, with all the light of things unknown. all of you, which i have pulled from dreaming to become the reality beneath the heavy lids that open to wonder, enchantment; surely you know, for your spell is natural as the garden which flourishes in your heart, planting sunlight and bittersweet promises, too much for a wanderer to behold. yet he stops and stares, as do i, for the day breaks as surely as you will. far more than this: soften your edge to fit with mine.
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Jan 19, 2011
Jan 19, 2011 at 10:10 AM UTC
believing
There's some sort of magic between the eyes of a resting jaguar. Their languid yawn, opening the gaping maw that lies between their strong teeth, more energetic than their tired paws. Still and regal, wearing muscles like fine silks, their fur like that final kingly cape and their ears their crown. A zoo jaguar once met my eyes and in a deadlocked stare, saw the camera in my hands, and turned his head to pose. A prince always knows when to please his peasantry. As a pleased peasant, I snapped pictures and nearly cried at his serene posture behind a wall of glass. There was some sort of uncharted beauty in the way he spoke without words oversaturating his meanings. It was a way I wished to speak. He was a comrade behind glass, silent yet observant and knowing. Though my head might be a good fit for a maw, I nearly wanted to keep him close company. The dark spots that adorn his body are the only betrayers of the fierce undertones of his monarchy. Well, except for the teeth, of course. Though I try to unlock my gaze and detach from the gossamer threads that were beginning to tie, the jaguar eyes and jaguar prince incessantly seep into my brain, for when I close my eyes all I can see is theirs staring back at me. All I want is just one hand, a single touch, a gift to feel their crowns and robes, to experience the powerful royalty beneath their quiet eyes, even if being taken by their maw may end up being the price. My affection becomes jarred by the human hand jostling my wrist, and I blink for the first time since seeing the posing feline prince. My head turns, trance averted, and I'm looked at with perplexion as my body has sidled up to the glass, and the Jaguar, now alert, is swinging its tail and staring in wonderment at me. My eyes magnetize back to their rightful place, his green eyes on my green eyes, and I wonder what lives we would live like if I could see into his mind and know what's he's like. Perhaps we would be friends, or family, or hunters, or partners, in that other life. Or, perhaps he'd want to eat me nonetheless. One more camera shot of my jaguar prince, and a silent nod as he situates himself back to his pose. Restful, regal, serene. Turning away, I feel myself leave a part of me that always stays with him and taking that part of him that stays with me. Every wild eye does, and our secret we will keep.
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Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 10:53 AM UTC
Jaguar Eyes
There's some sort of magic between the eyes of a resting jaguar. Their languid yawn, opening the gaping maw that lies between their strong teeth, more energetic than their tired paws. Still and regal, wearing muscles like fine silks, their fur like that final kingly cape and their ears their crown. A zoo jaguar once met my eyes and in a deadlocked stare, saw the camera in my hands, and turned his head to pose. A prince always knows when to please his peasantry. As a pleased peasant, I snapped pictures and nearly cried at his serene posture behind a wall of glass. There was some sort of uncharted beauty in the way he spoke without words oversaturating his meanings. It was a way I wished to speak. He was a comrade behind glass, silent yet observant and knowing. Though my head might be a good fit for a maw, I nearly wanted to keep him close company. The dark spots that adorn his body are the only betrayers of the fierce undertones of his monarchy. Well, except for the teeth, of course. Though I try to unlock my gaze and detach from the gossamer threads that were beginning to tie, the jaguar eyes and jaguar prince incessantly seep into my brain, for when I close my eyes all I can see is theirs staring back at me. All I want is just one hand, a single touch, a gift to feel their crowns and robes, to experience the powerful royalty beneath their quiet eyes, even if being taken by their maw may end up being the price. My affection becomes jarred by the human hand jostling my wrist, and I blink for the first time since seeing the posing feline prince. My head turns, trance averted, and I'm looked at with perplexion as my body has sidled up to the glass, and the Jaguar, now alert, is swinging its tail and staring in wonderment at me. My eyes magnetize back to their rightful place, his green eyes on my green eyes, and I wonder what lives we would live like if I could see into his mind and know what's he's like. Perhaps we would be friends, or family, or hunters, or partners, in that other life. Or, perhaps he'd want to eat me nonetheless. One more camera shot of my jaguar prince, and a silent nod as he situates himself back to his pose. Restful, regal, serene. Turning away, I feel myself leave a part of me that always stays with him and taking that part of him that stays with me. Every wild eye does, and our secret we will keep.
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10
CRUSHED A flower Grows gracefully among the other In a park where people discover The love they have for one another Full of thorn may the flower be Hurt the fingers that try to touch it Beauty it still to the eyes that see It made the flower a lovely misfit 300504 10.00 Along came a bee Attracted by that plant of beauty Magnetize by the sweetness of its honey Charmed by the colour that it sees Lone is the beauty for its majesty Wishing to monopolize its purity Crushed is the bee as it witness A butterfly has taste its sweetness Hopeless! 010604 11.00
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Mar 22, 2010
Mar 22, 2010 at 2:36 AM UTC
CRUSHED
591 To interrupt His Yellow Plan The Sun does not allow Caprices of the Atmosphere— And even when the Snow Heaves ***** of Specks, like Vicious Boy Directly in His Eye— Does not so much as turn His Head Busy with Majesty— ’Tis His to stimulate the Earth— And magnetize the Sea— And bind Astronomy, in place, Yet Any passing by Would deem Ourselves—the busier As the Minutest Bee That rides—emits a Thunder— A Bomb—to justify—
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1.9k
To interrupt His Yellow Plan
What is it that stops us from questioning the scaffolding of our reality? Why aren't more of us solipsists? Shouldn't we all be like those delusional violent ones? They see no reason to think the world exists outside their heads Therefore their thoughts influence their reality more and more All of our thoughts influence the reality We sense to a varying degree unique to each of us But do we really all, for the most part believe some ho-hum passivity? Oh, what pressures magnetize our brains
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Mar 29, 2017
Mar 29, 2017 at 6:52 AM UTC
I Dreamed I Wrote Every Book and Created Everything Else
How shall my animal Whose wizard shape I trace in the cavernous skull, Vessel of abscesses and exultation's shell, Endure burial under the spelling wall, The invoked, shrouding veil at the cap of the face, Who should be furious, Drunk as a vineyard snail, flailed like an octopus, Roaring, crawling, quarrel With the outside weathers, The natural circle of the discovered skies Draw down to its weird eyes? How shall it magnetize, Towards the studded male in a bent, midnight blaze That melts the lionhead's heel and horseshoe of the heart A brute land in the cool top of the country days To trot with a loud mate the haybeds of a mile, Love and labour and **** In quick, sweet, cruel light till the locked ground sprout The black, burst sea rejoice, The bowels turn turtle, Claw of the crabbed veins squeeze from each red particle The parched and raging voice? Fishermen of mermen Creep and harp on the tide, sinking their charmed, bent pin With bridebait of gold bread, I with a living skein, Tongue and ear in the thread, angle the temple-bound Curl-locked and animal cavepools of spells and bone, Trace out a tentacle, Nailed with an open eye, in the bowl of wounds and **** To clasp my fury on ground And clap its great blood down; Never shall beast be born to atlas the few seas Or poise the day on a horn. Sigh long, clay cold, lie shorn, Cast high, stunned on gilled stone; sly scissors ground in frost Clack through the thicket of strength, love hewn in pillars drops With carved bird, saint, and suns the wrackspiked maiden mouth Lops, as a bush plumed with flames, the rant of the fierce eye, Clips short the gesture of breath. Die in red feathers when the flying heaven's cut, And roll with the knocked earth: Lie dry, rest robbed, my beast. You have kicked from a dark den, leaped up the whinnying light, And dug your grave in my breast.
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1.8k
How Shall My Animal
How shall my animal Whose wizard shape I trace in the cavernous skull, Vessel of abscesses and exultation's shell, Endure burial under the spelling wall, The invoked, shrouding veil at the cap of the face, Who should be furious, Drunk as a vineyard snail, flailed like an octopus, Roaring, crawling, quarrel With the outside weathers, The natural circle of the discovered skies Draw down to its weird eyes? How shall it magnetize, Towards the studded male in a bent, midnight blaze That melts the lionhead's heel and horseshoe of the heart A brute land in the cool top of the country days To trot with a loud mate the haybeds of a mile, Love and labour and **** In quick, sweet, cruel light till the locked ground sprout The black, burst sea rejoice, The bowels turn turtle, Claw of the crabbed veins squeeze from each red particle The parched and raging voice? Fishermen of mermen Creep and harp on the tide, sinking their charmed, bent pin With bridebait of gold bread, I with a living skein, Tongue and ear in the thread, angle the temple-bound Curl-locked and animal cavepools of spells and bone, Trace out a tentacle, Nailed with an open eye, in the bowl of wounds and **** To clasp my fury on ground And clap its great blood down; Never shall beast be born to atlas the few seas Or poise the day on a horn. Sigh long, clay cold, lie shorn, Cast high, stunned on gilled stone; sly scissors ground in frost Clack through the thicket of strength, love hewn in pillars drops With carved bird, saint, and suns the wrackspiked maiden mouth Lops, as a bush plumed with flames, the rant of the fierce eye, Clips short the gesture of breath. Die in red feathers when the flying heaven's cut, And roll with the knocked earth: Lie dry, rest robbed, my beast. You have kicked from a dark den, leaped up the whinnying light, And dug your grave in my breast.
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44
Success of a crime The bleed of a son of Christ The green flowers of smiles Clouded faces let rain subside Satan is kind Symphonies of tears Hearts filled with raging fear The ruler is nowhere near Near the eye of the dying deer Satan is kind 'Though Sharp knives stabbeth the derailed souls of weakened Christians Blood boils of the one they reject Rejects know not to lose faith in his hand Satan is kind The soft wind of vocals utters the forbidden berries that mankind craves Glitter magnetize the eye let the boy walk in the cave The warmth of his smile, it has no shame Satan is kind Protection we need, Protection we feel. In the presence of the cross they found peace The slaves to glitter shall rest at ease. Satan is kind
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Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 12:30 PM UTC
Satan Is kind
Feeling your touch distantly, calling out your name in whispers unsaid. Playing hard to get isn't fun if your not playing too, simply - your hard to hold on to, I've already tried catching you. Dancing, moving, flowing, like a ribbon in the sky.... broken free from loose strands...... caught the smiles, the shy looks, the hand holding. So long Oh so so so very long now I've knew & known those strong hands holding me. we've configured our bodies, embraced- the soft silky smooth texture of skin, golden perfectly formed muscles , holding me tight up against your chiseled chest as we merge- twist swing push pull spin again again again & again. spinning round around round & around songs mingled melodies spark causing us to get closer, closer closer & even closer... I'm trapped luxuriously- your mmm unreal intoxication- like webs of stars caught on my dream catcher. hips pressed close legs mingle as we twist this and that way. hand on the swell of my backside, Squeeze turn pause- dipping low lower, dip me again - magnetize my alluring persona. Alleviate this unknown aridity that leaves me dry mouthed longing for your touch once more. Songs ending it's last call Butterfly's catch in the pit of my stomach, after seeing you with her seeing you shyly smile up at her while you forget. the touch of our hands, the smell of our scent & sweat mingled as one like lover for the very first time the floor was our bed our playground until the music drifted softly slowly away & she came into focus.... stepping back i look from you to her holding my breath when you truned my way, You bowed over my hand kissed it lovingly. Causing longing, craving & hot flashes for hours until now- mingled with sweaty palms as you walk past me back to her side. am i playing the wrong game? Every weekend with you it's almost the same. You find me- stalk me until i relentlessly give in, dancing, swaying, bodies so close causing us to forget , forget it all....... Dance floor becoming our bedroom, so many times so many hours swaying- flowing bodies intertwined, meshed together again & again. spinning around & round. With me me me & you oh you you you your dipping me . your hands always mmm always on my lower back, music loudly sweetly drumming like our heart beats becoming our Tantra Taboo(s)..... she smiles at me then looks up- smiling gleefully in your eyes as you both walk out the dance hall.... **** I shouldn't of expected a **** thang- Oh well that's what happens more often than not- to me on a Friday Night(s) Always Me Ayeshah
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Apr 11, 2010
Apr 11, 2010 at 4:59 AM UTC
Friday.
Feeling your touch distantly, calling out your name in whispers unsaid. Playing hard to get isn't fun if your not playing too, simply - your hard to hold on to, I've already tried catching you. Dancing, moving, flowing, like a ribbon in the sky.... broken free from loose strands...... caught the smiles, the shy looks, the hand holding. So long Oh so so so very long now I've knew & known those strong hands holding me. we've configured our bodies, embraced- the soft silky smooth texture of skin, golden perfectly formed muscles , holding me tight up against your chiseled chest as we merge- twist swing push pull spin again again again & again. spinning round around round & around songs mingled melodies spark causing us to get closer, closer closer & even closer... I'm trapped luxuriously- your mmm unreal intoxication- like webs of stars caught on my dream catcher. hips pressed close legs mingle as we twist this and that way. hand on the swell of my backside, Squeeze turn pause- dipping low lower, dip me again - magnetize my alluring persona. Alleviate this unknown aridity that leaves me dry mouthed longing for your touch once more. Songs ending it's last call Butterfly's catch in the pit of my stomach, after seeing you with her seeing you shyly smile up at her while you forget. the touch of our hands, the smell of our scent & sweat mingled as one like lover for the very first time the floor was our bed our playground until the music drifted softly slowly away & she came into focus.... stepping back i look from you to her holding my breath when you truned my way, You bowed over my hand kissed it lovingly. Causing longing, craving & hot flashes for hours until now- mingled with sweaty palms as you walk past me back to her side. am i playing the wrong game? Every weekend with you it's almost the same. You find me- stalk me until i relentlessly give in, dancing, swaying, bodies so close causing us to forget , forget it all....... Dance floor becoming our bedroom, so many times so many hours swaying- flowing bodies intertwined, meshed together again & again. spinning around & round. With me me me & you oh you you you your dipping me . your hands always mmm always on my lower back, music loudly sweetly drumming like our heart beats becoming our Tantra Taboo(s)..... she smiles at me then looks up- smiling gleefully in your eyes as you both walk out the dance hall.... **** I shouldn't of expected a **** thang- Oh well that's what happens more often than not- to me on a Friday Night(s) Always Me Ayeshah
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80
our most intimate moment in my imagination is painting poetry onto your moonlight-drenched chest, hot and writhing underneath me, mirroring each stroke by tensing the muscles in your abdomen– your vessel of a body, becoming frayed and singed at the seams as you burst. I never cared much for my words. when I write them onto my own starved skin, I find, disappointed, that the greyed valleys are always a poor substitute for the scorchmarks your fingers track behind them when we touch. but I imagine that covering your skin in my ink would create a constructive interference, that engraving into you my scarlet-tinged idolatry would cause our cores like stars inside of us to magnetize – solar flares erupting, surging through every ****** crevice – to collide in a kaleidoscopic supernova, tearing flesh to confetti in a glorious funeral that reeks of destiny.
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Dec 26, 2020
Dec 26, 2020 at 11:08 AM UTC
collapse of a binary star
Scintillating communication between strangers as they magnetize the words together into a stimulating story of strung together words: While every sailed bridge sweetly floats under evil I do best sitting at peace. One lived as some had fallen, Steal the King's singing & beg him to sing louder Knowing Ocean's rising storm as Gentle music should drift so people can hear it whisper. They found their beach of spring after the river Coming against these cruel spinning mountains of the night skies, We still use hate, though most don't go by this road. He drove towards a forest, Though he stumbled out of it empty, For it all lies beneath our art as looking naked plays only until two can love each other. Were none welcome except us? So as they went off to sleep, hearts beating thrice to the beat, jumping to the new rhythm unseated by the synergy created in this magical space, While I may question who you are, We suffer from searching, each more affected than the other by the wandering.
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May 27, 2011
May 27, 2011 at 12:16 AM UTC
Colorado
the siren may be said to be the lady of the sea naiad are her kin eyes that entrance all who see her a temptress to all eyes that magnetize bewitching men since ancient times blue eyes that match her tail hair as bright as the sun to light of day to dark of night her siren's song i hear when the siren sings by scarlet rose
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Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 4:36 PM UTC
THE SIREN
Its pretty early or maybe its just a cloudy day the light from the big bay windows is bright and soft and sad in its purity my heeled black boots click on the standard multi-grained colored tile I see you in the distance in a familiar hallway In the mandatory uniform hands balled up in tan pants, a book bag slung over one shoulder I stand on the opposite end looking somewhat normal a gray and black abstract top that screams art teacher/librarian dark purple lipstick, blue jeans, and a intricate up-do I believe I am particularly self-conscious about this but your smiling at me like I'm beautiful anyways the clicking of the heels get quicker as I magnetize towards you I fit into you like a puzzle piece body to body, heart to heart your arms are wrapped knowingly across my lower back my arms are clutching your neck holding on for dear life or something else that means so much more You still smell the same Your breath is soft against my ear right above the sliver hoop When we try to remove ourselves from the sticky membranes of the closeness my nose trails across your cheek your chin I want that kiss I will never again receive I look up and you're wearing that smirk that rare smirk, that heart shattering smirk, my smirk This. This embrace echoes things of the past of chance, and love, and lust, and confusion, frustration, failure, and forgiveness even though we wear that polite"we're just friends" expression on our faces. This memory, I can place in the past , present, or future But sometimes. Sometimes it happens differently Sometimes I am comfy in an old slipknot shirt outside your house in the pouring rain Sometimes we are at Parkdale directly after I've crashed and burned, trying to smile bravely like it doesn't hurt Sometimes I am lost and broken amid the cherry blossoms sighing for you Sometimes its on Halloween before I take my four month leave But alot of times more often than most its in the way you look at me and say How are you? and I know you truly mean it That's when I realize i don't need to say a word..You know I loved you I lost you And vivid memory maybe the only thing I gain from this in its embracive care and that's okay with me finally.
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Dec 23, 2010
Dec 23, 2010 at 9:22 AM UTC
His last poem.
Its pretty early or maybe its just a cloudy day the light from the big bay windows is bright and soft and sad in its purity my heeled black boots click on the standard multi-grained colored tile I see you in the distance in a familiar hallway In the mandatory uniform hands balled up in tan pants, a book bag slung over one shoulder I stand on the opposite end looking somewhat normal a gray and black abstract top that screams art teacher/librarian dark purple lipstick, blue jeans, and a intricate up-do I believe I am particularly self-conscious about this but your smiling at me like I'm beautiful anyways the clicking of the heels get quicker as I magnetize towards you I fit into you like a puzzle piece body to body, heart to heart your arms are wrapped knowingly across my lower back my arms are clutching your neck holding on for dear life or something else that means so much more You still smell the same Your breath is soft against my ear right above the sliver hoop When we try to remove ourselves from the sticky membranes of the closeness my nose trails across your cheek your chin I want that kiss I will never again receive I look up and you're wearing that smirk that rare smirk, that heart shattering smirk, my smirk This. This embrace echoes things of the past of chance, and love, and lust, and confusion, frustration, failure, and forgiveness even though we wear that polite"we're just friends" expression on our faces. This memory, I can place in the past , present, or future But sometimes. Sometimes it happens differently Sometimes I am comfy in an old slipknot shirt outside your house in the pouring rain Sometimes we are at Parkdale directly after I've crashed and burned, trying to smile bravely like it doesn't hurt Sometimes I am lost and broken amid the cherry blossoms sighing for you Sometimes its on Halloween before I take my four month leave But alot of times more often than most its in the way you look at me and say How are you? and I know you truly mean it That's when I realize i don't need to say a word..You know I loved you I lost you And vivid memory maybe the only thing I gain from this in its embracive care and that's okay with me finally.
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47
Mates mingle, mash, and match, a mystery so miraculous. A magical manifest of our majestic and marvelous Maker. Magnetize and magnify, making it magnificent, modest, meticulous, measuring each minute's bliss. Movies and moonlight, moments made to memorize. Memories that mesmerize, meant to last a millennium. [Lifetime] matches-made-in-Heaven @desire.is.dope 20190323 0542HRS
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Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 5:55 AM UTC
MARRIAGE
I'm staring at walls and hiding away. Breathing to fast for a normal day Yet at the same time I can't breathe As I stare at the test in front of me. Life can take you in unplanned ways, And leave you hanging with only a few days. And here I ask you, who am I? To choose between death and life? I'm seventeen, I'm too young to make this choice, To silence another soul and bury down their voice. But as the seconds tick on by And as I feel my eyes dry I think of how hard it would be If there was something growing inside of me. That "Just one time" was probably enough. And that even protection isn't so tough. No matter how far I reach Your tiny hands are too far from me, And I want to hold you in my arms And protect you from all world harms. I want to wipe away your little sorrows And hold you for every tomorrow And lift you up above my head so high, That you could take flight in the sky. And when I look into your eyes, The color of midsummer skies, I'll be looking into his too. Because love gave his eyes to you. And our little family would fight along And we'd have to find a way to be strong. School would be a dying dream. More jobs would magnetize me. And I love you, I love you, I really do. But it's much too soon for me to have you. And there's still a minute until the end of the test. And I can't find where I lost my breath. Baby, be patient, you'll be here one day. But if I want what's best for you, I can't let you stay. And I'm sorry for ever doing wrong, But my love for you is much too strong. I'm staring at walls and hiding away. Breathing to fast for a normal day Yet at the same time I can't breathe As the test says "No - " in front of me.
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May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 11:00 AM UTC
Life and Death
I'm staring at walls and hiding away. Breathing to fast for a normal day Yet at the same time I can't breathe As I stare at the test in front of me. Life can take you in unplanned ways, And leave you hanging with only a few days. And here I ask you, who am I? To choose between death and life? I'm seventeen, I'm too young to make this choice, To silence another soul and bury down their voice. But as the seconds tick on by And as I feel my eyes dry I think of how hard it would be If there was something growing inside of me. That "Just one time" was probably enough. And that even protection isn't so tough. No matter how far I reach Your tiny hands are too far from me, And I want to hold you in my arms And protect you from all world harms. I want to wipe away your little sorrows And hold you for every tomorrow And lift you up above my head so high, That you could take flight in the sky. And when I look into your eyes, The color of midsummer skies, I'll be looking into his too. Because love gave his eyes to you. And our little family would fight along And we'd have to find a way to be strong. School would be a dying dream. More jobs would magnetize me. And I love you, I love you, I really do. But it's much too soon for me to have you. And there's still a minute until the end of the test. And I can't find where I lost my breath. Baby, be patient, you'll be here one day. But if I want what's best for you, I can't let you stay. And I'm sorry for ever doing wrong, But my love for you is much too strong. I'm staring at walls and hiding away. Breathing to fast for a normal day Yet at the same time I can't breathe As the test says "No - " in front of me.
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44
Draw me nearer As the moon slowly seduces the tide How iron is lured by a magnets enticing charm   Like a moth to a flames irresistible pirouette Draw me nearer
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Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 12:07 PM UTC
Magnetize Me
Divine love is the essence of eternal bonding and relationship. If I had fallen in your divine love I also could have known that how twinkling stars in the moonlit night could strew their amazing illumination in the whole universe that how the moon in the milky night could embellish its beaming smile that how austerity of the galaxy of stars could witness the happiness of macrocosm that how melody of nature could touch the heartbeats of its lovers that how harmonic sound of birds could create musical environment in the dark and deep forests that how rustles of the intoxicated winds could break the silence of darkness that how the voluptuous gestures of the sky could stimulate ****** desires of flora and fauna that how the adorable smile of elvish dark clouds could shower colorful kisses on the pink roses crazy in love that how the sensual seduction of dew drops could magnetize the glow of dawn and that how the fresh air in the morning could disrupt the penance of the spring if I had fallen in your divine love I could have felt the eternal beauty of nature I wish I could have drowned In your divine enchantment forever and ever and ever (By Kishan Negi)
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Dec 25, 2016
Dec 25, 2016 at 3:56 AM UTC
If I Had Fallen In Your Divine Love
Love approaches just when you're about to turn around Giving up or fall down Love gives you an intense hope and glowing promises Nods down with any compromises Love offers you someone who is more charming than the tempting world No matter how clever the magic twirled Love cheers you up for no good reason Caught yourself smiling when Lawson's aired on Love steers you to whatsoever that is possible Including destroying something impossible Love walks off ruthlessly without any remorse Forgot the way it magnetize you like an attractive force Love broke off the agreement and vivid faith Cruelly put an end to something you create Love shows how life propose something greater than loving a person Makes you clueless of what to do then things get worsen Love now seems to gloom every side of you Minimize your spirits into few Love steers you to whatsoever that is possible Including destroying something impossible
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Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 1:19 PM UTC
Love
Inhaling the smoke, they start to feel magnetize .. Eyes are closing just like they should .. Getting thirsty, Mouth is dry .. I’m feeling nub while looking at them, just like I could fly .. In a sky of poetry .. The rotation’s set, it’s coming near to me .. Past the gums, down the throat it’ll go .. Look out lungs, here comes the dank flow … Filled to capacity .. No one warned them of such a big **** .. They’re on the top, enjoying like a positive fool .. Everybody’s eyes are unexpected surprise .. they look like red blood veins surface .. Stomach’s hungry .. **** that was great.. far from just good .. That’s what it’s like to get ripped in the dark .. I’m always staring at them .. leaving their responsibilities behind .. Their soul is submerged .. under the sea of drugs .. Trapped, Grasping for breath .. But still carving for more .. Because, everyone is loved here .. Have no Religions .. A place of Humanity .. HighLane .. !!
0
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 9:02 AM UTC
******
he is the father of a child stuck in traffic. he is my father finding this out in the middle of trying to be successfully beside himself. he is all muscle. he is every man kissing a trash bag swollen with stork blood. do the lifting. his friends languish in the availability of their art. who are these people, they are sermons, they are the dogvision greys of a bluesy priest. I am yellow in my mother. his mother is his endeavor. he hits a wall he slaps it. endeavors to magnetize his mother’s orgasm. it pains him. there is a man who writes to himself. people say it is fuck. he takes the terrible writing and turns it into a pity none can feel.
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Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 10:40 AM UTC
terrible writing
I reject the likeness of you __ To resolve this, I lied and become the finest of you I reject the sameness as you __ To avoid this, dishonesty pleasures— I believe the untruth I reject the appearance of you __ Through the looking glass I continuously hate the one who stares back at me I reject your charm __ Where most who encounter me seems to be magnetize to my own charisma I reject the way you think And here I am discerning how not to be you I reject your cheating heart I saw mom suffer from this and yet I cheated I reject your rejection Where I thought I forgive but I still despised your presence in my head...
0
Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 10:19 AM UTC
My Father's Daughter
Forgotten dreams roll by on train cars Lurch quicker than your mind will have them familiar Run on coal blacker than his deep well eyes And yours so strained from ever searching for the bottom Find static emptiness instead Like cracked pavement Reflected in battered bones With names like home Where dinnerbells resound in a momentous capture of the wingspan wandress Retreat inside yourself My dear Blow off the hand that sprinkles regret to crust your eyes At dawn you will be awakened Blow off your plans like Queen Anne's Lace Wishing only that you could take to the wind the same Carry a sunset glow in your shadows And watch As people, like sunflowers will be drawn to your light Love with the girth of your lungs Relentless and unquestioning Offering and receiving As karma sings your songbird heart tune to the clouds They will part for you Like Moses' sea You'll magnetize such energies Like instinct Flying to your summer There will be a clarity
0
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 1:23 AM UTC
Wingspan wandress