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"mesmerised" poems
The epitome on the show is more than a dream turned true a timeless beauty stitched on the stone. The first sight hooks the eyeballs no star is a far cry from here it looks so close. A narrative feels so familiar is never old seen tons of times yet is a new Taj Mahal. Since the medieval eyes were dazzled by this monument of love the crave to eye on it once in a lifetime is in every lover’s heart! People of new ages flock here with the admiring birds on this air of everlasting romance never gone with the wind are mesmerised with love!
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Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 12:16 AM UTC
Taj Mahal
When I look into your eyes I see more than just brown... I see pools of dark chocolate in which I want to drown. Like shots of aged whiskey they intoxicate me- I forget all my troubles and for a moment, I'm free. They make me feel warm, so safe and secure. No longer a sinner- they make me feel pure. They're the color of sugar when caramelized, with a devilish charm that has me mesmerised. Much like the earth drenched in rain- with unstoppable force they now flood my brain. To be lost in their depths is where I long to be... but those perfect brown eyes were never meant to see me.
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Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 1:02 AM UTC
Perfect Brown Eyes
Mesmerised by an ocean dream, Eternal life, alone and free. Rolling waves, sea pure and clear, Maybe I've found shelter from the storm. A cave that glistens, a loving aura. I no longer need my alibi, Driven to the dream I've always dreamed, Swimming with the mermaids of the open seas.
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Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 8:52 AM UTC
A mermaids dream
If you're the moon with your phases Then I'm a star gazer, mesmerised by the view.. And if your 'ring of Saturn' falls out I'd go up there myself and find one more suited for you And how does it feel to have a face that so many call home?.. Cause for three sleepless nights, this 'homeless girl' gave up everything just to write you a poem.. Oh I've been struggling, I've been staring at the page for ages, Trying to find the most honest way to say this.. See every time you touch my heart I feel it breaking So I will never let you know.. But you are so beautiful, I can't take it And no I won't stop believing That everyone comes into your life for some kind of reason.. But I'm not using you to write, I'm using you as a source for breathing though every time I see you I fall to pieces.. ..But every piece is in awe with you So would you collect them and adore me too? Oh I just can't describe this.. If there was a metaphor you know I'd write it.. You make me lost for words but I won't stop trying, In hope of finding new parts of you, Oh you are so beautiful, I don't like it Cause it ties knots in my stomach. And then my heart beat drains out the city but I can't stop it.. Is this a horrible poem cause I'm just being honest.. And though adrenaline is supposed to keep me going, Oh you are so beautiful I can't focus So don't get too close for comfort Cause I love you so much my heart hurts, And it's a pain my heart could take If you just stay and take the pain away And your little smile could go to the end of the world, And I'd whisper your name if it was the end of the world, ..And I have writers block so I don't know what rhymes with 'end of the world', But don't let me go even when you're someone else's girl Cause you'll still always be this loser's world :') .. And if I'm a stargazer mesmerised by the view, Then I hope every constellation will add up to you.
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Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 4:55 AM UTC
Trials & Constellations
If you're the moon with your phases Then I'm a star gazer, mesmerised by the view.. And if your 'ring of Saturn' falls out I'd go up there myself and find one more suited for you And how does it feel to have a face that so many call home?.. Cause for three sleepless nights, this 'homeless girl' gave up everything just to write you a poem.. Oh I've been struggling, I've been staring at the page for ages, Trying to find the most honest way to say this.. See every time you touch my heart I feel it breaking So I will never let you know.. But you are so beautiful, I can't take it And no I won't stop believing That everyone comes into your life for some kind of reason.. But I'm not using you to write, I'm using you as a source for breathing though every time I see you I fall to pieces.. ..But every piece is in awe with you So would you collect them and adore me too? Oh I just can't describe this.. If there was a metaphor you know I'd write it.. You make me lost for words but I won't stop trying, In hope of finding new parts of you, Oh you are so beautiful, I don't like it Cause it ties knots in my stomach. And then my heart beat drains out the city but I can't stop it.. Is this a horrible poem cause I'm just being honest.. And though adrenaline is supposed to keep me going, Oh you are so beautiful I can't focus So don't get too close for comfort Cause I love you so much my heart hurts, And it's a pain my heart could take If you just stay and take the pain away And your little smile could go to the end of the world, And I'd whisper your name if it was the end of the world, ..And I have writers block so I don't know what rhymes with 'end of the world', But don't let me go even when you're someone else's girl Cause you'll still always be this loser's world :') .. And if I'm a stargazer mesmerised by the view, Then I hope every constellation will add up to you.
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38
Fireworks!! I watch the fireworks Dancing away in the sky Pinks blues greens reds Fireworks dancing with the music They sing "watch me, watch me" And i do, i am mesmerised What sweet syncronising I catch myself dancing With the fireworks I am on cloud 9 They're still going So much energy So much passion Twirling twirling Shooting up high They light the sky Just like the stars Blue purple yellow orange Sweet sweet harmony They are alive The sky is alive I am alive I am dancing away To the beat of the fireworks They have the sky on fire The suns turned off its light And i am mesmerised with The fireworks that have lit up The dark with their own lights Dancing away in their own world Wow! The patterns! The colours combine Into one huge explosion Beauty at its peak Its brought the world together They are one like the fireworks Dancing hand in hand Laughing singing dancing away They are one
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Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 2:05 PM UTC
Fireworks!!
I laid there, battered and bruise atop of that cold white blanket, my eyes looking up and the Back of my head pressed firmly down the snow. I took a moment and just paused, mesmerised by the beautiful dark and velvety sky, pelted with starlight. I still remember how “Zen” like that moment felt. It was a time in my life, that I just let go of everything. I felt no care, no anguish or no concern. Moments like those makes one appreciate the little things in life that we all tend to overlook.
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Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 10:03 PM UTC
Learning To Ski At Night
*This Morning The Golden Sun Rose With a Midas touch Smiled at the Skies In Scintillating Colours Bedewed the Atmosphere In a Lush Orange Squash A Rush of Pomegranate Reds A Spread of Fiery hot Saffron Threads Far Away Billowed The Feathery White Pristine Kashmir Clouds The Mirthful birds On the wire , Chirped A Mesmerised me , Revelled In the Early Morning Bliss Nature Imbues Taking away the Sky's Blues*
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Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 7:45 AM UTC
A Beautiful SunRise
Our private bungalow Leading to the private beach On the Saronic Gulf Turquoise water The smell of pine trees Chilled Champagne No one else just us Totally alone for five days Mesmerised by the Sunio Sunset The vibrancy of the Plaka Danced to the early hours Under the Island stars Ate Moussaka and Baklava We talked and talked No phones No net Nothing, no one just us We held hands Like young lovers We shared intimacies   Never done before I believed your words Your intimacy Your need for me Your desire Your love And then In the darkness Of our room A Stranger And the struggle began I gave you my love You took that trust You tore me apart Filled my head with all your lies Abused my passion To suit what you wanted My life rearranged You manipulated how I saw myself How I saw others You played with my feelings You abused my anxieties Made it hard to be with anyone else You took my faith in life A Stranger in the room
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Sep 5, 2013
Sep 5, 2013 at 3:52 PM UTC
Stranger
Often people, mesmerised by the depth of others, comment that they had no idea they had so many layers, that such profundity existed. I have myself been likened to a coconut with a hard shell, with undiscovered realms within. Hah. I think perhaps though, that I am more of an onion. You can peel all that you want but -I'm just the same inside. Maybe I could even make you cry.
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Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 10:11 AM UTC
Onion-girl
The Beatles are legend forever! The Beatles and Elvis Presley Pop singers immortal love all! McCartney, John Lennon and George Harrison with ****** Starr Make The Beatles a music group! Music mesmerised many in 1960s! The Beatles were welcomed ever With Red Carpet welcome everywhere! Love me do and Hard day's night still Ring in the ears with haunting spell No one can forget even today, well! John Lennon or Paul McCartney, Single or group is The Beatles in one!
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Dec 8, 2011
Dec 8, 2011 at 2:09 PM UTC
The Beatles in One!
An app for this An app for that An app even, To feed your cat. Mesmerised by mobiles All these zombies shuffle along Nearly getting run over So internet throng. Scanning with their debit cards No time for cash But I don’t trust these things With their laser flash. All this social media Where is it going? So much information Toing and froing. Good to keep in touch And so easy to Google Want to make a noise? It’s better than a bugle. Better check in on Facebook So you all know where I am Time to check my emails To bin the latest scam. But whatever happened to talking? It’s now a forgotten art! The cyber revolution: This is just the start. Paul Butters © PB 19\3\22.
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Mar 19, 2022
Mar 19, 2022 at 3:47 PM UTC
Technology
01:12 25/09/2008 Come gentle lover, let me share your air and taste the kisses only your lips bring, Speaking in tongues, my hands lost in your hair, with every nerve alive and shivering. Manna of angels, honeyed on the lips rains down on me, leaving me mesmerised; bestowed only in tantalyzing sips, till every fantasy is realized. The sullen low, the upper Cupid's bow, the pout so often teased into a smile; By far the sweetest mouth I'll ever know - indulge me if I borrow it awhile. Come gentle lover, cover me with bliss, Nothing is so delicious as your kiss.
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Sep 20, 2009
Sep 20, 2009 at 3:16 AM UTC
Kissonnett
The time sways Forth and back Through the light Happiness shines Smiling bright Everything that felt fine Now are crowded in a sack Closed, taped, not my way It kills me,little slow deaths To have them go with A part of me alive Why do the cure of emptyness Has to have an end Left with that painless ache That creates a hole deep in pain A member lost in my chaos Returned by their ignorance In the place which thy fitted Now asks for coverage It can't even be masked For they cutted it broad and wide It kills me,little slow deaths To have them go With a part of me alive. That they never feel How my elated heart smiled When their smiles were around They never cared for what I gave up in the flick of eyes Mesmerised by the sunkissed times All they did was, Find the ink to my page And filled me up with their Promising words All they did then was Give up on me When they found that I was filled up to brimm So they took away me from me With some that belonged there's And with some that I never cared. All they did was left me bereft.
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Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 2:33 PM UTC
Bereft
I've Been TRULY SURPRISED ... !!! In Fact ... " MESMERISED " ....... !!!! By The ... Volume of People ... Who Tell Themselves Lies ... !!! These Acts I Believe ... Give Liars ... " Relief " ... But Liars Are FOOLS ... Who Simply ... AREN'T Cool ... !!! And People Like These ... Know NOT What They Do ... ?!? In Fact That's NOT TRUE ... !!!! But Does Give You Some Clues ... On Why These FAKE People ... Don't Have ... SHINY Shoes ... !!! They Walk In A Mire ... of .... " Liars for Hire " .... They Claim The Good Life ... But Are NOT Richard Briers ... ?!? They DO ... Make Me Laugh ... !!! But They AIN'T Richard Pryor ... !!!! Their ... " Devilish Ways " ... Will Earn Them ... " HELLS' FIRE " ... !!!! This Thing Has NO COLOUR ... !!! A Liar's ... A LIAR ... !!!!! But That ISN'T ME ... !!! Try ... Tapping My Wire ... !!! "IT ISN'T JUST WHITES ! YES BLACKS DO IT TOO !" To Think It's One Culture ... Is Really .... " NOT COOL " .... !!! DON'T BE ... " A Fool " ... !!! You're Lying To ... YOU ... !?! To Think That ... " Your Creed " .. Has Always Been ... " True " ... It's Time To Move On ... And Give You Some Proof ... That ... Loved Ones You Have ... May Just ... TAINT Your View ... !!! Those Who You Feel ... Would NOT ... Lie To You ... Does Your Family ... ? Have A ... GENUINE Crew ... ?!? Or Do You Have Relatives ... ? Being .... UNTRUE ... ?!? ... Who ... Travel Through Time ... WITHOUT ... " Doctor Who " ... !!! Their Ship Is UNStabLE ... Their Life Is .... " A Fable " .... Kind of Like Guys ... Who Sell ... " DODGY CABLE " ... !!! Yeah ... Funny I Know ... But ... Who's At YOUR Table ... ?!? ROCKING ... Your Cradle ... !?! I'll ... Give You A Choice .... These Two ... Cain or Abel ... ??? Marriage Is Something ... To Give You ... MORE Clues ... That ... LOVE Is A Word ... That ... GOOD LIARS Use ... !!!!! DON'T ... Get It Confused ... This ... LOVE Thing's ABUSED ... By Liars Who ... USE It ... To Get Some ... NEW Shoes ... !!! It's Money ... You See ... That Gives Liars GLEE ... !!! Emotions Get Played With ... Right To ... " Pregnancy " ... !!! LOVE Is A ... GREAT THING ... !!!! When Given For FREE ... !!!!! But MANY Now USE IT ... To ... Fulfil Their Greed ... Just Look At Divorce Rates ... Or ... Watch Your TV ... I Really ... DON'T Care ... If You ... Don't Want To See ... !!!!! THE TRUTH Is This Simple ... It's .... REALITY .... !!!!! We All May ... Fall Victim ... of Those Who Proceed ... To ..."Hide Who They Are" ... Behind LIES ... That They Feed ... They're ... LYING To You ... And ... LYING To Me ... !!! Some of These People ... .... Recite Poetry .... !!! Some of These People ... Are Rappers ... BELIEVE ... !!! They Really Don't Know ... ? What It Is To ... " Emcee " ... ? This Is A MASTER ... of .... " Ceremonies " .... These Are TRUE POETS ... Like ..... " Talib Kweli " ..... or Maybe THIS NAME ... ? The Brother ... " Big V " ... ?!? Or A Guy Called ... BIG VIRGE ... !?! Okay I Mean .... ME .... !!!!! A Man Who Speaks TRUTH ... In This Here .... " Poetry " .... I DON'T Want To Be ... Above ... Humility ... !!!!!! I Just Want To See ... More ... TRUE Poetry ... That SHUNS Foolish Pride ... And Liars Who Feed ... On ... " Poetic Liars " ... These ... " Fictional Writers " ... Just Write For THEMSELVES ... To Earn A .... " FAST BUCK " .... From .... " Media Wealth " .... PLEASE OPEN Your Eyes ... Let TRUTH Be Your Guide ... Cos' It Really AIN'T Wise ... To Have A ... FAKE Guise ... !!!!! REMEMBER This Poem .... ... " Don't Tell Yourself Lies !!! " ...
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Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 5:17 PM UTC
"Don't Tell Yourself Lies" ... A Poem written by Big Virge 24/6/2005
I've Been TRULY SURPRISED ... !!! In Fact ... " MESMERISED " ....... !!!! By The ... Volume of People ... Who Tell Themselves Lies ... !!! These Acts I Believe ... Give Liars ... " Relief " ... But Liars Are FOOLS ... Who Simply ... AREN'T Cool ... !!! And People Like These ... Know NOT What They Do ... ?!? In Fact That's NOT TRUE ... !!!! But Does Give You Some Clues ... On Why These FAKE People ... Don't Have ... SHINY Shoes ... !!! They Walk In A Mire ... of .... " Liars for Hire " .... They Claim The Good Life ... But Are NOT Richard Briers ... ?!? They DO ... Make Me Laugh ... !!! But They AIN'T Richard Pryor ... !!!! Their ... " Devilish Ways " ... Will Earn Them ... " HELLS' FIRE " ... !!!! This Thing Has NO COLOUR ... !!! A Liar's ... A LIAR ... !!!!! But That ISN'T ME ... !!! Try ... Tapping My Wire ... !!! "IT ISN'T JUST WHITES ! YES BLACKS DO IT TOO !" To Think It's One Culture ... Is Really .... " NOT COOL " .... !!! DON'T BE ... " A Fool " ... !!! You're Lying To ... YOU ... !?! To Think That ... " Your Creed " .. Has Always Been ... " True " ... It's Time To Move On ... And Give You Some Proof ... That ... Loved Ones You Have ... May Just ... TAINT Your View ... !!! Those Who You Feel ... Would NOT ... Lie To You ... Does Your Family ... ? Have A ... GENUINE Crew ... ?!? Or Do You Have Relatives ... ? Being .... UNTRUE ... ?!? ... Who ... Travel Through Time ... WITHOUT ... " Doctor Who " ... !!! Their Ship Is UNStabLE ... Their Life Is .... " A Fable " .... Kind of Like Guys ... Who Sell ... " DODGY CABLE " ... !!! Yeah ... Funny I Know ... But ... Who's At YOUR Table ... ?!? ROCKING ... Your Cradle ... !?! I'll ... Give You A Choice .... These Two ... Cain or Abel ... ??? Marriage Is Something ... To Give You ... MORE Clues ... That ... LOVE Is A Word ... That ... GOOD LIARS Use ... !!!!! DON'T ... Get It Confused ... This ... LOVE Thing's ABUSED ... By Liars Who ... USE It ... To Get Some ... NEW Shoes ... !!! It's Money ... You See ... That Gives Liars GLEE ... !!! Emotions Get Played With ... Right To ... " Pregnancy " ... !!! LOVE Is A ... GREAT THING ... !!!! When Given For FREE ... !!!!! But MANY Now USE IT ... To ... Fulfil Their Greed ... Just Look At Divorce Rates ... Or ... Watch Your TV ... I Really ... DON'T Care ... If You ... Don't Want To See ... !!!!! THE TRUTH Is This Simple ... It's .... REALITY .... !!!!! We All May ... Fall Victim ... of Those Who Proceed ... To ..."Hide Who They Are" ... Behind LIES ... That They Feed ... They're ... LYING To You ... And ... LYING To Me ... !!! Some of These People ... .... Recite Poetry .... !!! Some of These People ... Are Rappers ... BELIEVE ... !!! They Really Don't Know ... ? What It Is To ... " Emcee " ... ? This Is A MASTER ... of .... " Ceremonies " .... These Are TRUE POETS ... Like ..... " Talib Kweli " ..... or Maybe THIS NAME ... ? The Brother ... " Big V " ... ?!? Or A Guy Called ... BIG VIRGE ... !?! Okay I Mean .... ME .... !!!!! A Man Who Speaks TRUTH ... In This Here .... " Poetry " .... I DON'T Want To Be ... Above ... Humility ... !!!!!! I Just Want To See ... More ... TRUE Poetry ... That SHUNS Foolish Pride ... And Liars Who Feed ... On ... " Poetic Liars " ... These ... " Fictional Writers " ... Just Write For THEMSELVES ... To Earn A .... " FAST BUCK " .... From .... " Media Wealth " .... PLEASE OPEN Your Eyes ... Let TRUTH Be Your Guide ... Cos' It Really AIN'T Wise ... To Have A ... FAKE Guise ... !!!!! REMEMBER This Poem .... ... " Don't Tell Yourself Lies !!! " ...
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176
Shrouded in mist you come for me From the silence, from the cold.   Waiting, watching has been your game. Now you find me alone, Hypnotised by the stillness, Mesmerised by moments of sublime beauty as yet unseen. I am helpless to resist. What melody to find in silence, What comfort in the earth! Raindrops falling through trees echo through the forest. A lone web hangs wet with dew. A mushroom sits heavy with moisture on a tree stump. The forest knows how to be in stillness And make it's presence felt.
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Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 1:14 PM UTC
Forest peace
Mesmerised by mysteries, marvel those curious agog to drift off.
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Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 5:20 AM UTC
NAVARASA#2: WONDER
I'm writing the story of my life,   and I'm not letting anyone hold the pen.       The pen is mightier than the sword.     I'll write out all my pain, damage, fear.                 I'll shoot for the moon,      even if I miss I'll land among the stars.   They all told me that because of my past,      I could never become anything great,               that I'd never have success,                   never be good enough,    that what they did to me was my fault.                    I wanted to grow up.                           I finally did.                  I excaped their torture.             Now, I keep writing my story.              Write. Edit. Change. Repeat.         I'm not even completely grown up.                                  2 years.                  But it's happening now...          I've started toa ture into an adult.                      Frankly, I'm scared.            I'm not exactly sure what to do.       I'm taking over sooner than planned,               I'm working a real job now,       I'm responsible for sisters well being.                        I just don't know.                           But that's ok.         I have my faith and I have my pen. I don't want to miss out on the people who                 have me mesmerised... But how can I captivate them and weave                        them a story?        I don't know. I don't know if I can.       My rythem and rhyme is so unique,           there's no hope in attempting      to intertwine another beautiful soul.            I'm sorry. I just don't know.                       All I do know is       The pen is mightier than the sword.
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Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 11:56 AM UTC
The pen is mightier than the sword
I'm writing the story of my life,   and I'm not letting anyone hold the pen.       The pen is mightier than the sword.     I'll write out all my pain, damage, fear.                 I'll shoot for the moon,      even if I miss I'll land among the stars.   They all told me that because of my past,      I could never become anything great,               that I'd never have success,                   never be good enough,    that what they did to me was my fault.                    I wanted to grow up.                           I finally did.                  I excaped their torture.             Now, I keep writing my story.              Write. Edit. Change. Repeat.         I'm not even completely grown up.                                  2 years.                  But it's happening now...          I've started toa ture into an adult.                      Frankly, I'm scared.            I'm not exactly sure what to do.       I'm taking over sooner than planned,               I'm working a real job now,       I'm responsible for sisters well being.                        I just don't know.                           But that's ok.         I have my faith and I have my pen. I don't want to miss out on the people who                 have me mesmerised... But how can I captivate them and weave                        them a story?        I don't know. I don't know if I can.       My rythem and rhyme is so unique,           there's no hope in attempting      to intertwine another beautiful soul.            I'm sorry. I just don't know.                       All I do know is       The pen is mightier than the sword.
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. • you are |the lone guardian•| **::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ||                           || ||           ><           || ||                           || :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::** standing regal over- looking the ocean • as your light spears far over the echoing ripples•i must have misread your beckon -ing signals•they had warned me of impen- ding doom •  should i come too near to where deadly rocks loom• but strangely enough, i find myself drawn   so much closer• like a siren's call that  could not  sing any sweeter•now it's too late to even look back  •   i am now before you under skies of black•torn asunder by the ravenous rocks hidden below • still I'm mesmerised by your enchanting glow  • waters here have been the grave of many hulls and bows • but...these last few moments it's just me and you ••••as my love, my beacon,•••• ••••••••my lighthouse•••••••• ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
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May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 12:17 PM UTC
Beacon
There is a wondrous feeling of completeness When immersed in the act of … Cleaning a flute The soft light radiantly refracting from The slightly concave… Keys The shimmering of the shiny sleek skin A perfect nickel finish… It’s sexiness salute A strangely seductive serpent stealing My willpower; I submit to you… With ease The perfection of this harmonious union As my trembling hands caress… Your heavenly body Gently working away until my eyes are Illuminated by your brilliance… Your gleaming sheen Intoxicated, mesmerised by your lustre The warm ambience brings out… Your luminous beauty Ready now for my lips to blow a refrain A sweet tune is primed… The flute is now clean Let the melody begin…
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Aug 22, 2011
Aug 22, 2011 at 9:22 AM UTC
Cleaning a Flute
Under the moonlight the creatures all glare At a beautiful Fairy with rich Autumn hair She crunches the leaves under foot where she treads As she dances and giggles at the stars overhead! This beautiful creature in a dress olive green Comes out to play when the humans do dream With mind like a child and a voice like a harp She skips and she sings for the creatures of dark! The mesmerised Hedgehogs, a line dance do they Kicking their heels in the cold yellow hay Most creatures around all decide to join in Laughing and wearing their best Autumn grins! Sweet Nellie Owl gives a “Twittery twoo!” And she opens her wings to applaud all they do Then all of the moths with formation of wings Glide past with valour making circles of wind! Then gusts stir the leaves in the chill of the night And the beautiful Fairy just smiles with delight She knows the display we’ll wake up to at morn Golden leaves at our feet as the Autumn's now born! © By LynnKaren
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Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 6:22 PM UTC
The Autumn Fairy
At a Parisean restaurant In a quarter undisclosed Unaware of everything The diners sat exposed As Clara and the Prince sat down And prepared to eat their meal Backstage the musician equipped himself The theft who had yet to steal As menus and music case opened The scene was set for all And as Rigo Jancsi took the stage The crowd fell quiet, enthralled The gyspy was a showman His weapon a violin A tune danced out across the room As the strings began to sing Playing notes of tales untold His melody charmed her soul The music pulled her heart to his Over her husband's buttered roll Captivated, entranced and mesmerised Seduced by another life And when the gypsy left that night He took the Prince's wife They ran away and married A scandalous affair Society was most surprised But our story does not end there... Hungarian tales tell of the man Whose music stole a heart Remembered in a chocolate cake And puppets, songs and art One hundred long years later The guitar boy from the band Strummed his notes and stole the girl Heartstrings were played by hand Two stories a century apart What makes these stories the same? Because the boy's band of musicians Used the Hungarian gypsy's name
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Dec 9, 2009
Dec 9, 2009 at 6:23 AM UTC
Johnny Blackbird
Near a town of history untold Where everyone knows each name Wooden behemoths - obliviously old Each unique but each the same It was meant to be a perfect day Of tranquility through the trees Instead, the sky is brood with grey And the leafs flow as they please Alone, in nature's splendor spilled In a rainy wilderness, seldom seen The birds and insects grow suddenly still In a spread silence of the green Like eyes embedded in your back You sense the stare of something sour The mood hurries to horrid black As you quiver into a cower In bending branches blended Creeping in creases - camouflaged Nature's imbalance to be amended In the forest's full mirage Witness a terror appearing Frantically floating from afar Emerged in echoes and vaguely veering Black, bleak and bizarre A malevolent, monstrous maw Snarls of hunger, habit, and hate A malodor of meat, reeking raw A violently increasing heart rate From frozen still to fearfully shaking You are manically mesmerised Your pupils promptly dilating As you and the beast lock eyes Your meaningless attempt to run From a stride to a collapse The beams above crown the sun As the twigs around you snap A soar of pain as you hit the ground Chest cavity cracked open As you faint, you hear the sound Of a language never spoken. Gutted and gargling gore Eaten by nature's nightmare Convulsing on a forest floor Indifference chokes the air It's just another perfect day Of tranquility in the trees The rain has stopped, the leafs still sway With the cooling, comfortable breeze
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Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 3:46 PM UTC
A Perfect Day
Near a town of history untold Where everyone knows each name Wooden behemoths - obliviously old Each unique but each the same It was meant to be a perfect day Of tranquility through the trees Instead, the sky is brood with grey And the leafs flow as they please Alone, in nature's splendor spilled In a rainy wilderness, seldom seen The birds and insects grow suddenly still In a spread silence of the green Like eyes embedded in your back You sense the stare of something sour The mood hurries to horrid black As you quiver into a cower In bending branches blended Creeping in creases - camouflaged Nature's imbalance to be amended In the forest's full mirage Witness a terror appearing Frantically floating from afar Emerged in echoes and vaguely veering Black, bleak and bizarre A malevolent, monstrous maw Snarls of hunger, habit, and hate A malodor of meat, reeking raw A violently increasing heart rate From frozen still to fearfully shaking You are manically mesmerised Your pupils promptly dilating As you and the beast lock eyes Your meaningless attempt to run From a stride to a collapse The beams above crown the sun As the twigs around you snap A soar of pain as you hit the ground Chest cavity cracked open As you faint, you hear the sound Of a language never spoken. Gutted and gargling gore Eaten by nature's nightmare Convulsing on a forest floor Indifference chokes the air It's just another perfect day Of tranquility in the trees The rain has stopped, the leafs still sway With the cooling, comfortable breeze
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How Poets routinely tell lies or truth with great "sincerity" and earnest projections of "poetic charisma" and lashings of "who me tell lies?". and yet they routinely avoid truthfulness, in case they forget the  power of lies and truth, in their search for fame. Mesmerised by its attendant celebrity groupmind and of course its wealth.. Indeed Poets don't want to know that truthfulness has nothing to do with truth. Indeed Poets don't want to know that truth is a lie and a lie is truth, two sides of a darkened mirror and both are equally valueless except  for  seeing false faces in.. Poets bleat on about how the shackleable object of their 'love' , she or he, are not theirs to own or categorise or monopolise. yet they keep on expecting full submission and just getting an empty back, and a disappearing set of footprints. Like the sheep and goats that Poets are, they bleat on endlessly about their wants their wants  their wants. They want fame as Poets--disguised as distribution deals. They want contracts to produce garbage for HallMark--as if.. They want **** licking critical acclaim--from **** licking critics. They want international poetry prizes from aesthetic morons-- wearing Armani suits. They want Groupies--but not ******* They want Media eulogies--but not truthfulness. Always are they deliberately forgetting that "you cant always get what you want". The last thing that Poets want is what they need most of all. They really need An end to the narcissism of those that want to be called "poet"--in your dreams. An end to the juvenile arrogance that motivates them to put up strings of meaningless associated words and vainly call them poems. An end to childish immaturity, and inchoate meandering through other peoples words and experiences, stealing others lives and characters. Always incessantly pretending that because they can read the words of others that they have also shared their experiences--indeed their experience was deeper wider higher. In another day and age of non-violent sensibility   these kind of Poets would be called thieves and liars. In this day and  age they scribble emotional garbage and pretend its "poetry"--encouraged by intellectual follies. As poets they have become walking proto cash registers. Sin Verguensa. Sin Verguensa. Sin is Spanish for without. Poets are  SIN integrity. Poets are SIN Truthfulness. Poets are SIN decency. Poets are SIN. Im so glad I could never be mistaken for a  Poet. Wouldnt want to be mistaken as a poet.
0
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 4:19 PM UTC
Isnt it 'funny'?
How Poets routinely tell lies or truth with great "sincerity" and earnest projections of "poetic charisma" and lashings of "who me tell lies?". and yet they routinely avoid truthfulness, in case they forget the  power of lies and truth, in their search for fame. Mesmerised by its attendant celebrity groupmind and of course its wealth.. Indeed Poets don't want to know that truthfulness has nothing to do with truth. Indeed Poets don't want to know that truth is a lie and a lie is truth, two sides of a darkened mirror and both are equally valueless except  for  seeing false faces in.. Poets bleat on about how the shackleable object of their 'love' , she or he, are not theirs to own or categorise or monopolise. yet they keep on expecting full submission and just getting an empty back, and a disappearing set of footprints. Like the sheep and goats that Poets are, they bleat on endlessly about their wants their wants  their wants. They want fame as Poets--disguised as distribution deals. They want contracts to produce garbage for HallMark--as if.. They want **** licking critical acclaim--from **** licking critics. They want international poetry prizes from aesthetic morons-- wearing Armani suits. They want Groupies--but not ******* They want Media eulogies--but not truthfulness. Always are they deliberately forgetting that "you cant always get what you want". The last thing that Poets want is what they need most of all. They really need An end to the narcissism of those that want to be called "poet"--in your dreams. An end to the juvenile arrogance that motivates them to put up strings of meaningless associated words and vainly call them poems. An end to childish immaturity, and inchoate meandering through other peoples words and experiences, stealing others lives and characters. Always incessantly pretending that because they can read the words of others that they have also shared their experiences--indeed their experience was deeper wider higher. In another day and age of non-violent sensibility   these kind of Poets would be called thieves and liars. In this day and  age they scribble emotional garbage and pretend its "poetry"--encouraged by intellectual follies. As poets they have become walking proto cash registers. Sin Verguensa. Sin Verguensa. Sin is Spanish for without. Poets are  SIN integrity. Poets are SIN Truthfulness. Poets are SIN decency. Poets are SIN. Im so glad I could never be mistaken for a  Poet. Wouldnt want to be mistaken as a poet.
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58
Lights dim, Colour explodes, For upon the stage there is magic and in the orchestra pit there is music, Young dancers robed in elegance glide across the richly decorated stage, And the night smiles by with selection after selection of sublime ballet confection, The dancers dazzle and daze, Their bodies hugging the music's enchanting embrace, Upon their faces are the smiles of summer and golden radiance, On their bare backs ripple muscles glowing with the sheen of sweat and glory, Their breath comes in quick bursts as they fly through the air and land as gently as a feather on the breath of a nightingale, The girls are as bright as dawn's first light and the men so supple and full of ecstatic zest, These gifted artists were not from the snow-capped streets of St. Petersburg or from the steppes of the Bolshoi nor were they from the giddy heights of the opera at Notre Dame de Paris nor were they plucked from Covent Garden's glorious school of Royal Ballet, No, it was none of those rigid and regimented corps de ballet, For the vibrant and energetic dancers that mesmerised the audience were living the pure joy of life, These young men and women were from the poor villages and back streets of Cuba, They brought the sun's warmth and delight, They brought the lightning's energy and spark, They brought the air of vitality and light, They brought the moon's bewitching sophistication and surprise, They brought the colour of life to their art, This was a night of remembrance for the human soul, What wondrous poetry in motion we can sprinkle and sparkle if only we let our prejudices seep away, Come, let go of the rat race sweat and pain, Just ease back and let your mind be transported to another time, another place, another type of magic, Go enjoy a night at the ballet and see human expression expressed through movement, Witness tales of myth and wonder without a single word spoken, One flick of the wrist or the pointing of a finger or even a tilted head can say more and mean more than a hundred thousand spoken words, Hearts full of love's deep lyrics told their tragic stories through a mere touch or a caress, Hearts were lacerated with a single swipe of a glance, When two lover's shyly held hands and smiled there was a thundering hush in the Hippodrome, The lights changed from a cold blue to a pulsating red and the orchestra showered the stage with glittering notes, Drama, Music, Dance... *This was Theatre.* ©Rangzeb Hussain
0
May 2, 2010
May 2, 2010 at 4:19 AM UTC
Ballet Nacional de Cuba
Lights dim, Colour explodes, For upon the stage there is magic and in the orchestra pit there is music, Young dancers robed in elegance glide across the richly decorated stage, And the night smiles by with selection after selection of sublime ballet confection, The dancers dazzle and daze, Their bodies hugging the music's enchanting embrace, Upon their faces are the smiles of summer and golden radiance, On their bare backs ripple muscles glowing with the sheen of sweat and glory, Their breath comes in quick bursts as they fly through the air and land as gently as a feather on the breath of a nightingale, The girls are as bright as dawn's first light and the men so supple and full of ecstatic zest, These gifted artists were not from the snow-capped streets of St. Petersburg or from the steppes of the Bolshoi nor were they from the giddy heights of the opera at Notre Dame de Paris nor were they plucked from Covent Garden's glorious school of Royal Ballet, No, it was none of those rigid and regimented corps de ballet, For the vibrant and energetic dancers that mesmerised the audience were living the pure joy of life, These young men and women were from the poor villages and back streets of Cuba, They brought the sun's warmth and delight, They brought the lightning's energy and spark, They brought the air of vitality and light, They brought the moon's bewitching sophistication and surprise, They brought the colour of life to their art, This was a night of remembrance for the human soul, What wondrous poetry in motion we can sprinkle and sparkle if only we let our prejudices seep away, Come, let go of the rat race sweat and pain, Just ease back and let your mind be transported to another time, another place, another type of magic, Go enjoy a night at the ballet and see human expression expressed through movement, Witness tales of myth and wonder without a single word spoken, One flick of the wrist or the pointing of a finger or even a tilted head can say more and mean more than a hundred thousand spoken words, Hearts full of love's deep lyrics told their tragic stories through a mere touch or a caress, Hearts were lacerated with a single swipe of a glance, When two lover's shyly held hands and smiled there was a thundering hush in the Hippodrome, The lights changed from a cold blue to a pulsating red and the orchestra showered the stage with glittering notes, Drama, Music, Dance... *This was Theatre.* ©Rangzeb Hussain
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