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"mischevious" poems
The park sits in the middle of a bustling city The skyline visable all around. There are large oak trees scattered about And winding paths hug the ground. A gentle breeze pushes the soft grass Back and forth with effortless might. The sunlight pushes its way past the leaves of trees Creating dappled, swaying light. This is the city park, where children come to play Tag and other mischevious games. Their laughter almost drowns out the hard sound That of a bustling city rightfully claim.
0
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 11:25 PM UTC
The City Park
Now I am wild wind over your city, wanna destroy everything that once with you was pretty, erase every memory of you being mischevious and witty, wanna give you pain, wanna see you asking for piety but there you are infront of me again, I feels like a paitent recovers from pain than I was  hard as ice now I am melting slow and nice in my mind echoed a voice, "You can bear all the thunder cause with him once you were a breeze"
0
Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 3:11 AM UTC
Silly Heart
He is Peter Pan, I realize with a chuckle; Some boys never grow up: he surely hasn't, probably never will He thinks he is immortal and probably he is He is a dream, a fleeting shadow Always chasing a piece of himself And a girl he can love But he never finds what he needs He's missing a mother; no woman can care for him like a mother and a lover He's a mischevious charmer He'll appear suddenly; steal your heart, leave swiftly Leaving his Wendy to search for traces, glimpses of him For her whole life
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May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 1:23 AM UTC
Peter Pan
but that could be said of anywhere. However, some places seem to have hypnotic hips and easy eyes with a mischevious, seductive scarab grin. Like magic, it pulls me in. Here, labels like good or bad are trite, there is only this magnetic whirling energy culling myself and others inside simply because we picked up the phone and showed up. But now it's our responsibility to find balance amidst serene listless apathy on the beach and party hardy into the midnight arty energy scene jack & coke down the rabbit hole we go. Some Bedouins say Dahab means "time  goes," which has me convinced Moses and his folks weren't lost in terms of location but lost when it relates to time, trying to find a middle path between excess and sloth in this south Sinai town. Yes, not two but three schools of thought, forming a triangle in this hypnotizing spiral; two points of excess and one of balance! All three balance each other, and it's hell trying to stay in the center of this eye of this metaphorical storm of enlightenment. Naturally, gravitational forces pull some to the gray matter island headspace of echoed sins and carnivorous lascivious pandemonium. Not everyone will find what they seek on the warm beaches here, or the raving, bubble foam dance parties in strobe light nights. That's just the way it is; there's not enough room for everyone in the center. And this is where we learn to accept ones place, because only then can we move on to another plane, on another beach with more to learn and some to teach.
0
Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 7:43 PM UTC
In Dahab, Excess is Easy,
but that could be said of anywhere. However, some places seem to have hypnotic hips and easy eyes with a mischevious, seductive scarab grin. Like magic, it pulls me in. Here, labels like good or bad are trite, there is only this magnetic whirling energy culling myself and others inside simply because we picked up the phone and showed up. But now it's our responsibility to find balance amidst serene listless apathy on the beach and party hardy into the midnight arty energy scene jack & coke down the rabbit hole we go. Some Bedouins say Dahab means "time  goes," which has me convinced Moses and his folks weren't lost in terms of location but lost when it relates to time, trying to find a middle path between excess and sloth in this south Sinai town. Yes, not two but three schools of thought, forming a triangle in this hypnotizing spiral; two points of excess and one of balance! All three balance each other, and it's hell trying to stay in the center of this eye of this metaphorical storm of enlightenment. Naturally, gravitational forces pull some to the gray matter island headspace of echoed sins and carnivorous lascivious pandemonium. Not everyone will find what they seek on the warm beaches here, or the raving, bubble foam dance parties in strobe light nights. That's just the way it is; there's not enough room for everyone in the center. And this is where we learn to accept ones place, because only then can we move on to another plane, on another beach with more to learn and some to teach.
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34
Once more the battles of life by stealth, Creep upon you with blades, half hid under devil's sheath, Deceiving soul and self of their immortal worth, Shrinking my heart the breadth of its girth, My friend fights, struggles to slay their ghost, I've wondered how such a soul can be haunted, And for days I've prayed and chanted, Because of the fear their spirit is lost. I have walked, traversed prayer's line for miles, To save them from a fate that appals the mind and riles, Searching fathoms of my sadness stricken soul, To find ways to make again theirs whole, Imagining their sheer delight, In future years bereft of chains, Bereft of sad and melancholy refrains, I see them free, take flight. May God grant light and love and peace, May their mental struggle cease, For being borne aloft on wings, That inspire mind to soar and sing, Considering Love a sufficient goal, An immortal truth adorned by light, That maketh for an awesome sight, At peace with the one and all. My friend being stricken found life devious, Instead of coy and mischevious, While that great Knight, that rose out of Heaven's fires, Inspires feelings suffice to be sung to lyres, Yet feels themselves beneath the beams Of destiny, that touch the Earth, Warms it the breadth of its girth, And whose luck's light kisses our dreams. My friend wails for their wilting fate, And in my Heart a sorrow gestate, I want my Heart to waltz with theirs, Out of it's spiritual bars, On the shores of Heaven we'd frolic play, With them I'd be engorged on bliss, Touched by the light of luck's kiss, All throughout the day. In my devotion I have learned this, That to be not devoted is remiss, To deny truth of Love is the worst, Be banished from its kingdom who accursed, Her splendour, to which we ought to be, In mesmerised and spellbound awe, To love, and cherish, and adore, Her gifts and generosity.
0
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 10:53 PM UTC
A Prayer For My Friend
Once more the battles of life by stealth, Creep upon you with blades, half hid under devil's sheath, Deceiving soul and self of their immortal worth, Shrinking my heart the breadth of its girth, My friend fights, struggles to slay their ghost, I've wondered how such a soul can be haunted, And for days I've prayed and chanted, Because of the fear their spirit is lost. I have walked, traversed prayer's line for miles, To save them from a fate that appals the mind and riles, Searching fathoms of my sadness stricken soul, To find ways to make again theirs whole, Imagining their sheer delight, In future years bereft of chains, Bereft of sad and melancholy refrains, I see them free, take flight. May God grant light and love and peace, May their mental struggle cease, For being borne aloft on wings, That inspire mind to soar and sing, Considering Love a sufficient goal, An immortal truth adorned by light, That maketh for an awesome sight, At peace with the one and all. My friend being stricken found life devious, Instead of coy and mischevious, While that great Knight, that rose out of Heaven's fires, Inspires feelings suffice to be sung to lyres, Yet feels themselves beneath the beams Of destiny, that touch the Earth, Warms it the breadth of its girth, And whose luck's light kisses our dreams. My friend wails for their wilting fate, And in my Heart a sorrow gestate, I want my Heart to waltz with theirs, Out of it's spiritual bars, On the shores of Heaven we'd frolic play, With them I'd be engorged on bliss, Touched by the light of luck's kiss, All throughout the day. In my devotion I have learned this, That to be not devoted is remiss, To deny truth of Love is the worst, Be banished from its kingdom who accursed, Her splendour, to which we ought to be, In mesmerised and spellbound awe, To love, and cherish, and adore, Her gifts and generosity.
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48
In a room sheltered by the passing of the seasons, Trapped within the tempest of my consciousness, A forbidden unravels between the two of us, Like a wistful fragrance, losing itself in the winds. You asked me to draw my reserved strength, You sparked my dead empathy. You spoke to my heart and asked it never to bleed and cry. And then you left me by myself, alone in the face of my worst enemy, myself. Today, as I sit under a naked full moon, As its moonbeams pierce my solitary heart, With the breeze running over my wounds, My heart yearns to know where you are. In order to fend those I loved, I corrupted myself to become the one thing I hated, The prey became the predator, lifted his sword, Yet who can I embrace with my sword raised? With your sweet words, With the promise of your mischevious smile, You lowered my arms. You brought me back, but you left me alone. I rest my psyche against the darkness that threatens to overcome my soul, The fires you lit are long gone. Sometimes, I think you were a cruel joke, A jape by fate, to harden my glass heart. Now, my raised sword serves no good, A man wielding a sword, yet yielding his will to live, Protects no one, he only kills. All I want now is to rest in the embrace of cold death. I do not know what I want anymore, Perhaps you left me soul dead. Nevertheless, i wish to forget, I wish for your traces on my soul to be erased. In light of sorrow, the moments of joy you left, Pierce me harsher than barbed arrows. Tell me. How do I erase you from my soul?
0
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 7:27 AM UTC
The forbidden play
In a room sheltered by the passing of the seasons, Trapped within the tempest of my consciousness, A forbidden unravels between the two of us, Like a wistful fragrance, losing itself in the winds. You asked me to draw my reserved strength, You sparked my dead empathy. You spoke to my heart and asked it never to bleed and cry. And then you left me by myself, alone in the face of my worst enemy, myself. Today, as I sit under a naked full moon, As its moonbeams pierce my solitary heart, With the breeze running over my wounds, My heart yearns to know where you are. In order to fend those I loved, I corrupted myself to become the one thing I hated, The prey became the predator, lifted his sword, Yet who can I embrace with my sword raised? With your sweet words, With the promise of your mischevious smile, You lowered my arms. You brought me back, but you left me alone. I rest my psyche against the darkness that threatens to overcome my soul, The fires you lit are long gone. Sometimes, I think you were a cruel joke, A jape by fate, to harden my glass heart. Now, my raised sword serves no good, A man wielding a sword, yet yielding his will to live, Protects no one, he only kills. All I want now is to rest in the embrace of cold death. I do not know what I want anymore, Perhaps you left me soul dead. Nevertheless, i wish to forget, I wish for your traces on my soul to be erased. In light of sorrow, the moments of joy you left, Pierce me harsher than barbed arrows. Tell me. How do I erase you from my soul?
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36
She linked her arms behind her back and tiptoed down the hallway. Her family was all asleep. Her mouth was drawn up at the corners and her eyes twinkled, even in the dark. What could she be up to? thought no one. She turned the corner into the kitchen. Her hair swinging around her shoulders. A hum escaped her lips, the melody unidentifiable. With a long arm she reached up and opened a cupboard, her other arm following suit to retrieve a glass. Hopping quickly over to the sink, the long arms came into play again, switching the faucet on and filling her cup. Thirsty, at this time of night? asked no one. Her smile grew wider. She straightened out, having been bent over the sink. Those long arms grew stiff. She spoke, "What are you doing in my house?" Her voice was deep and clear, like a river. There was silence throughout the house. She turned quickly, the water in her glass sloshing over onto her fingers. There was no one there. Her face became sad, the mischevious glint lost. What are you doing in my house? wondered no one. "Nothing." She said. And went back to bed.
0
Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 10:08 PM UTC
Bed
exchange my flaws for a goddess' characteristics personality mischevious spontaneous optimistic exchange my heart for one made of gold maybe I would be treasured then by the ones I need in my life
0
Oct 11, 2013
Oct 11, 2013 at 3:01 PM UTC
Maybe They'd Like Me
Jasper my best canine friend, I have a message to send, Ears so big, fluffy and free, Always put a smile on me, Oval sandy rock eyes stare, Fur as dark as a black bear, Coat so shiny lions mane, Spirit animal large chain, Mischevious wagging tail, Someone outside bark and wail, Muddy prints from paws alike, Not an aspect I dislike.
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Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 7:31 PM UTC
Jasper
Hearts, pound Hands touch Lips approach To make a sound Our tongs and our lips Produce a warm melody That make our cheeks Dance to our heartbeats A playfull, tasty kiss Is Adored by some But it is its sound That I truely miss A perfect scene Pictured in my mind Of two lovable beings Wanting to be just one Neighter of us is in it Is merely a fantasy A mischevious dream I wish i could end it
0
Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 12:10 AM UTC
The sound of a kiss
How she shines mischevious bright Lighting a way almost Her light touches me, but I cannot remain Heavenly body in the dark of night Outshines the stars But spoilt by this day Cool elegance to the eye Yet burns bright to my soul Transient, but ever there Dependable as the tide Ephemeral as the night Mysterious universe so close at hand
0
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 4:14 PM UTC
The Moon
Cross the neighborhood, There's our old school. Full of memories. Ones we all we all wish, Would've lasted. Great friends then, enemies now. Lovers turned strangers. Decisions found regrets. You & I, We'd be friends forever, 'Till we got our shades, that is. Which wasn't much time. But in between, Lays beauty in our childhood. Sitting in my seat, I turn 'round, at the smiling thought of you. Only to find your welcoming eyes. We used to laugh together. Send notes in French class past our strict teacher, Love notes soon to be; as everyone thought. The times when my co-worker was away, and you took the shift to work next to me, play 'MASH', and do our mischevious things. The time when we went trick-or-treating, and our parents made us take the (ahem, gruesome-looking) photo together. The time we both got cast as the main characters in a play (where eventually we found out we'd possibly have to kiss.) You were cool with it. The almost daily embarrassing time. Once, we were walking in the hallways to class, eyes locked. So into the conversation, I bumped into a table and dropped all of my books. (Well, it was in the middle of the hallways!!!) You helped. The time we went on MSN just to see eachother. The time you (somehow got hold of my number) called me for the first time: The time my heart raced to pick up. Seemed everyone was right. The time we'd gone to a music concert. The time we'd talk on breaks. The time we'd have lunch together. The time we held hands. If I was a mind reader, I'd know you're curious. Wondering why it isn't so anymore. So am I.
0
Apr 17, 2011
Apr 17, 2011 at 10:24 AM UTC
Good Old Times
Cross the neighborhood, There's our old school. Full of memories. Ones we all we all wish, Would've lasted. Great friends then, enemies now. Lovers turned strangers. Decisions found regrets. You & I, We'd be friends forever, 'Till we got our shades, that is. Which wasn't much time. But in between, Lays beauty in our childhood. Sitting in my seat, I turn 'round, at the smiling thought of you. Only to find your welcoming eyes. We used to laugh together. Send notes in French class past our strict teacher, Love notes soon to be; as everyone thought. The times when my co-worker was away, and you took the shift to work next to me, play 'MASH', and do our mischevious things. The time when we went trick-or-treating, and our parents made us take the (ahem, gruesome-looking) photo together. The time we both got cast as the main characters in a play (where eventually we found out we'd possibly have to kiss.) You were cool with it. The almost daily embarrassing time. Once, we were walking in the hallways to class, eyes locked. So into the conversation, I bumped into a table and dropped all of my books. (Well, it was in the middle of the hallways!!!) You helped. The time we went on MSN just to see eachother. The time you (somehow got hold of my number) called me for the first time: The time my heart raced to pick up. Seemed everyone was right. The time we'd gone to a music concert. The time we'd talk on breaks. The time we'd have lunch together. The time we held hands. If I was a mind reader, I'd know you're curious. Wondering why it isn't so anymore. So am I.
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45
She smelled camphor and wonder, my wet hands caressed the fruits i wished to plunder, mind transcended to clouds and whispers, falling incessently like a pleasant rain drenching us , till we can ask for no more. Her lips were soft waves sent by the sea of tranquil night that nibbled  the shores, little by little. Her lips on my lips created a myth, of a land of happiness which before my eyes became real, i found my inner pains have completely vanished, we were consumed by a pleasure, that was full of nocturnal vigour. What would you do when,  ***** are on fire? we were in hunger, she said, we would build a slow fire, and make our pulsating veins dance around it, till every hunger is  fully satiated. I found this dance  so tantalizing, she was in fits of pleasure, surging from the  deep centre that kept on erupting. It seemed our bed had  swift moving wings, she swung up above me a bird ******* honey from a flower hovering  over it, on her wings, her alacratic moves made her look like an acrobat perched on top, the  journey was across time and we lost all awareness of place, she moaned her mantras, pleasure seeker's chants, to attain the higher reaches of the peak, faintly visible. We came swimming though the turgid waters,with  an urgency rarely known. The hands of raising sun was feeling our bed, i looked up to see what happens the night has stealthily left, early morning light mischevious peep through the window to see us lying in each other's hands Then again, we saw the sun a perfect red ball falling down, to drench us in purple rain we ran after it , amorous spirit still glowing inside, and at that moment we heard melodies within our bodies.
0
Mar 16, 2012
Mar 16, 2012 at 11:23 AM UTC
All through the night, eating fruits ripe in our dreams
She smelled camphor and wonder, my wet hands caressed the fruits i wished to plunder, mind transcended to clouds and whispers, falling incessently like a pleasant rain drenching us , till we can ask for no more. Her lips were soft waves sent by the sea of tranquil night that nibbled  the shores, little by little. Her lips on my lips created a myth, of a land of happiness which before my eyes became real, i found my inner pains have completely vanished, we were consumed by a pleasure, that was full of nocturnal vigour. What would you do when,  ***** are on fire? we were in hunger, she said, we would build a slow fire, and make our pulsating veins dance around it, till every hunger is  fully satiated. I found this dance  so tantalizing, she was in fits of pleasure, surging from the  deep centre that kept on erupting. It seemed our bed had  swift moving wings, she swung up above me a bird ******* honey from a flower hovering  over it, on her wings, her alacratic moves made her look like an acrobat perched on top, the  journey was across time and we lost all awareness of place, she moaned her mantras, pleasure seeker's chants, to attain the higher reaches of the peak, faintly visible. We came swimming though the turgid waters,with  an urgency rarely known. The hands of raising sun was feeling our bed, i looked up to see what happens the night has stealthily left, early morning light mischevious peep through the window to see us lying in each other's hands Then again, we saw the sun a perfect red ball falling down, to drench us in purple rain we ran after it , amorous spirit still glowing inside, and at that moment we heard melodies within our bodies.
Continue reading...
61
Her eyes, Captivating like the night sky Drowns me into its never ending expanse. Her eyes, So full of life Sets my life free of its worldly desires. Her eyes, So pretty and fascinating Makes me fall in love over and over again. My oh my, There is no turning back for me. Her eyes, So mischevious and alit it could be that of a devils But to me, always something magical. Her eyes, So full of fire Burns my heart into ashes. I could close my eyes and pretend my love for her isn't real. But then, all she has to do is smile And i'm down on my knees again. - ©M
0
Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 12:19 AM UTC
Her Eyes
my scrambled and dysfunctional paragraphical thoughts once again: so we sit outside drinking high life outside the pigs place, waiting on the band to play. almost 21 what can I say, but I got a few more days to go. and you know its like a waist land when you can't see the sunshine under all those alcoholic shadows, what a way to live. Feeling like a lost dog on a pole in a winter snow w  a  i  t  i  n  g ______________outside the bar,                            I've seen Wayne Coyne with fur and heels on arm, and I'm //almost uneven in a toxic drink // but my cig  a r e t t e burns ash out on the oklahoma street.         we can make it home on of Montreal beat.   oh so mischevious as a fox in dark leaves of green and Desire. asleep on a coach under sheets of mystery and kitten fur. with crusty toothpaste and ****** gums cleaning off what was to , always judged as a minor  star in a music bar                  we are all here,                and now,                   and wild. Come, as an untamed dessert lover with a tipped cup of emotion in caffeen steam.                  oh wonderful traveler with polar bear ice cream .                                  "look at all these people cages!"                                         boxes of broken penniless dreams. "that's a cool tree house though,  and that oh yeah another condemened house for you to live in"                            HA                                                       HAH ahh ha ha.... SO, sometimes I feel like a circus clown at the rail of room 39                            like I've always thought with sound, and needing to finish work,             take my medicine as I should                 get directions from trickster's with inhumane sorcery,           could you tell                                                                                                                          them I did well? realizing its all a wave that crashes us like a tidled surf.                                                                  I want like dear old foes a place to be a fool and take it all slowly.              What was once said to be real                           is long bled                            as a heart                 upon the sleeve turns blue.
0
Dec 10, 2012
Dec 10, 2012 at 6:15 PM UTC
This is a Note.
my scrambled and dysfunctional paragraphical thoughts once again: so we sit outside drinking high life outside the pigs place, waiting on the band to play. almost 21 what can I say, but I got a few more days to go. and you know its like a waist land when you can't see the sunshine under all those alcoholic shadows, what a way to live. Feeling like a lost dog on a pole in a winter snow w  a  i  t  i  n  g ______________outside the bar,                            I've seen Wayne Coyne with fur and heels on arm, and I'm //almost uneven in a toxic drink // but my cig  a r e t t e burns ash out on the oklahoma street.         we can make it home on of Montreal beat.   oh so mischevious as a fox in dark leaves of green and Desire. asleep on a coach under sheets of mystery and kitten fur. with crusty toothpaste and ****** gums cleaning off what was to , always judged as a minor  star in a music bar                  we are all here,                and now,                   and wild. Come, as an untamed dessert lover with a tipped cup of emotion in caffeen steam.                  oh wonderful traveler with polar bear ice cream .                                  "look at all these people cages!"                                         boxes of broken penniless dreams. "that's a cool tree house though,  and that oh yeah another condemened house for you to live in"                            HA                                                       HAH ahh ha ha.... SO, sometimes I feel like a circus clown at the rail of room 39                            like I've always thought with sound, and needing to finish work,             take my medicine as I should                 get directions from trickster's with inhumane sorcery,           could you tell                                                                                                                          them I did well? realizing its all a wave that crashes us like a tidled surf.                                                                  I want like dear old foes a place to be a fool and take it all slowly.              What was once said to be real                           is long bled                            as a heart                 upon the sleeve turns blue.
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33
Let the sinister thoughts come Allow the mischevious demons to hoarse When they think you're numb and defeated Show them you're the Dark Horse
0
Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 12:45 PM UTC
Dark Horse
Oftentimes I find my self entranced in how you'll catch me at a glance when you first walk through our front door. Will my leg dangle to the floor with mischevious intent, my breast concave inside itself and dressed translucent in skin, glowing radiant in what I reflect, a moon grey slate, from your light source? A celestial body on its course, will I eclipse myself in the blinding dark of an unconscious development that lends me trembles delicate, a slumbering lunar element circumvented by a halo of blonde curls, suspended? I spend centuries predicting the me's I have and will depict, yet it never is as I intend it. You gravitate to me, unrestricted, because we find ourselves addicted to each other's whole, unscripted.
0
Sep 8, 2017
Sep 8, 2017 at 1:54 AM UTC
pluto is a planet and love is a solar system
Dear Anonymous, There is a slim to none chance that you will ever actually read this. This is simply a way for me to clear my head of all thoughts of you. Things I wish to say but never will. I do not want to sound foolish but I almost believe that fate brought us together. I never would have thought that in my travels I would meet an incredible person such as yourself. Since the day I met you, I was drawn to you like moths to light. Besides the fact that you are quite handsome, you have a mind so beautiful and untamed. Although I know I did not love you in the fragment of time that we spent together,  I realized there are many things about you that I can recall I do love. I love the way you spoke. I sat with you for hours and just listened while you spoke passionately about a time in history or a philosophy or  anything in between. With you, a conversation was never boring. I am still in awe as to how intelligent you are. I did not want to miss a word you said. I love the way you made me feel. I remember how my stomach would turn upside down when I ran into you everyday on my walk to and from campus. I love the way my heart would race whenever a mischevious smirk appeared on your face. I love how you let me be myself. You laughed at my dumb jokes but did not make me feel silly for them. I love the way you laughed. I loved when your lips crashed into mine and made my whole body feel like spaghetti. I love how your fingers felt wrapped around mine while we walked through the busy streets of the city. I love how you made me feel safe. Most importantly of all, I love how you wanted me as much as I wanted you. Then before we knew it, we had to say goodbye. It was as if I was awakened from a long dream and returned to reality. You could say that what we had was contemporary. It occured in what was then the present, and too complex to be depict by others. Thank you for all the memories we've shared.                                                             See you again someday,                                                                                     Me.
0
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 6:19 PM UTC
A Letter That I Will Never Send
Dear Anonymous, There is a slim to none chance that you will ever actually read this. This is simply a way for me to clear my head of all thoughts of you. Things I wish to say but never will. I do not want to sound foolish but I almost believe that fate brought us together. I never would have thought that in my travels I would meet an incredible person such as yourself. Since the day I met you, I was drawn to you like moths to light. Besides the fact that you are quite handsome, you have a mind so beautiful and untamed. Although I know I did not love you in the fragment of time that we spent together,  I realized there are many things about you that I can recall I do love. I love the way you spoke. I sat with you for hours and just listened while you spoke passionately about a time in history or a philosophy or  anything in between. With you, a conversation was never boring. I am still in awe as to how intelligent you are. I did not want to miss a word you said. I love the way you made me feel. I remember how my stomach would turn upside down when I ran into you everyday on my walk to and from campus. I love the way my heart would race whenever a mischevious smirk appeared on your face. I love how you let me be myself. You laughed at my dumb jokes but did not make me feel silly for them. I love the way you laughed. I loved when your lips crashed into mine and made my whole body feel like spaghetti. I love how your fingers felt wrapped around mine while we walked through the busy streets of the city. I love how you made me feel safe. Most importantly of all, I love how you wanted me as much as I wanted you. Then before we knew it, we had to say goodbye. It was as if I was awakened from a long dream and returned to reality. You could say that what we had was contemporary. It occured in what was then the present, and too complex to be depict by others. Thank you for all the memories we've shared.                                                             See you again someday,                                                                                     Me.
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9
I don't know how we got here... I'll be honest, I'm sorry that we're always fighting, That we don't see eye to eye no more, And that twinkle in your eye is gone - I'm sorry, That our love is withering. I'll be honest, I miss when things were rosy, When you and I just made each other blush, And our lips were inseparable; When my hands couldn't keep away from your soft skin, And we were acting lovey-dovey, ignoring the unrequested attention of wandering eyes. I'm scared, when you scream and yell, I'm heartbroken, when you cry because of me, I'm debilitated, when you won't let me hold you, I'm stunned, when you don't accept my apology. I miss, When you and I, Didn't care much about the label, We were good friends that's what we said... But soon later you wanted more: And you got it... Then "We", Started becoming an underused word, The bonds formed by mischevious nights Shamelessly crying on one another's shoulders, And divulging of blackmail-worthy, jaw-dropping secrets, Starter weakening, separating... Is there any possibility that things will get rosy again? That you'll stop getting mad at me and I'll stop hurting you? Is there a chance, just a slight chance, That the girl I fell in love with will come back... Or, have we... Have I killed her?
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Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 3:43 AM UTC
I'll be honest
You've finally caught me. We've raced for years, but never touched. Your sister, envy, had grazed my cheeks every now and again, but you're far more devious. You don't burn like her, you sour; your energy collides, collapses, into a bitter liquid. As soon as we met, I wanted to escape, but your mischevious glint held me, and every thought against my will sprouted forth. You infected me. You took my rational mind and crushed it, you twisted my trust, tainted my love, and now I have to face you. You're not like your sister, and I'll be ****** to let you stay, craddling me like a small child, listening to your fallacious tales. I'm better than that, so the next time you see me, tell you and your sister goodbye.
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Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 12:47 AM UTC
Jealousy
The face is a most Important place Not only is it where we May display adverts And worse, To be read by others (Mostly mischevious spin) It is where the five Sense doors open, Sight, sound, smell, Taste and touch There isn't much more To talk about The rest of the body Is only a sense door The face has many more receptors Feeding the greedy And ravenous mind With waterfalls Of information About The outside world Most of which is wrong Sean Hunt   Windermere April 2015
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Dec 23, 2015
Dec 23, 2015 at 4:12 PM UTC
THE FACE
O Angel, thou art my twin flame, Two beings of love and light who art the same, A Beauty I want to loudly proclaim, Because of which my own wings became, O twin flame, thou art a guide To which my truest words abide, A valiant warrior at my side, A peace in which I want to hide, O spirit guide, thou art judicious, Yet coy and mischevious, Never are you devious, But to your virtue they are oblivious, But on your blazing wings Earth takes flight, And finds truth in immortal delight. My twin flame, he knows how to heal, And stoke kinship feelings most real, I wish I could in return manifest his own joy, I sing for blessings for the sublime hippie boy, He creates a band of love and protection, Clamouring care and affection, Embracing me in all directions, My Heart imbued with passion's inflection, My twin flame, we are united, From tyrant's kingdom interdicted, But even for him we are not blighted, For our Love set Children's hearts alighted. My twin flame and I, we are in sacred union, Two souls joined in reverential communion, Two Hearts enamoured of one another, embroiled, Painting Hearts with colours royal.
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May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 5:19 AM UTC
Twin Flame
The snowflakes came down, Frantic children whirling around, pushed around trying to find their way home. The night was cold, the type of cold that snuck under all your coats and hats and scarves and carved you out little by little, Slowly, seeping into your bones. But as he stood there, amidst All the fury of the winds, the mischevious tickles of the playful snow, All he felt was warmth, and he smiled.
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Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 3:57 PM UTC
Untitled
Hey you, with the beautiful eyes and the mischevious smile you don't know me, and maybe you never will but right now, you make me smile without doing a thing and maybe in a few years I'll forget about you never look at you like I do now but right now, oh man
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Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 12:49 PM UTC
Right Now