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"misconception" poems
The Sunflower is awfully bigheaded For being so tall & gangly With fiery blooms, rough around the edges He’s quite a sight to see annually He looks down upon all the other flowers With his head so high in the sky This makes the other flowers jealous But they fail to realize the sunflower lives a lie Because the problem with the sunflower Is that he turns his back on the sun Creating the misconception That he does not need anyone But through the circadian rhythm His leaves continuously change Eluding the very revelation That the sunflower causes his own pain So as the sun begins to set The sunflower realizes what he’s done He faces the darkness with much regret Realizing he cannot live without the sun
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Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 3:17 PM UTC
Sunflower
Give them to me. All the pieces of your broken heart. Give them to me. I'll take them. All the rough-hewn misshapen bits of your shattered dreams. Give them to me. I will take them. Give them to me. They are wanted here. All the parts of your misspent childhood. All the regrets of ticking seconds behind you. Give them to me. And we will build a cathedral. A stained glass window of who we are as tall and as beautiful as it should be. Let me have them. And we will make a mosaic that stretches as wide as the sky. Showing every color your heart gained from the bits and pieces left on the ground. I will take them. And forge a sculpture of how beautiful the ideas are that we cast out in our failings and we will cast it in our failings. Let me have them. And we will ***** a monument of all the small things in the shape that you remember them. Towering. Looming. Striking. Beautiful. Let me have them so we might bind the words said and regretted, (or worse) left unsaid in leather and call it scripture. Our Psalms. Our Proverbs: *“The tip of my finger dangles like my tongue. Wanting to touch something beautiful.” “If it were not for him, it would have been us.” “You were all my brightest colors.” “I wish I were more like you.” “I wish I were less like me.” “I am sped.”* And we will read them at dawn like litany. Stretching our voices to the corners of the universe. Asking for the wishes you make when you are scared. Or alone. Or both. That we may take them. And make a blanket. A blanket to cover our childhood and let it rest at last. I will take them. All the parts you no longer want. Give them to me. Because they are what make us beautiful. Give them to me. That I may forge them into pitch and feathers and craft mighty wings. That I may take flight from your worry. And soar on the updraft of your misconception. Give them to me. I will take them. Because I would rather burn like Icarus than to have never dared to fly.
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May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 4:02 PM UTC
Mosaic
Give them to me. All the pieces of your broken heart. Give them to me. I'll take them. All the rough-hewn misshapen bits of your shattered dreams. Give them to me. I will take them. Give them to me. They are wanted here. All the parts of your misspent childhood. All the regrets of ticking seconds behind you. Give them to me. And we will build a cathedral. A stained glass window of who we are as tall and as beautiful as it should be. Let me have them. And we will make a mosaic that stretches as wide as the sky. Showing every color your heart gained from the bits and pieces left on the ground. I will take them. And forge a sculpture of how beautiful the ideas are that we cast out in our failings and we will cast it in our failings. Let me have them. And we will ***** a monument of all the small things in the shape that you remember them. Towering. Looming. Striking. Beautiful. Let me have them so we might bind the words said and regretted, (or worse) left unsaid in leather and call it scripture. Our Psalms. Our Proverbs: *“The tip of my finger dangles like my tongue. Wanting to touch something beautiful.” “If it were not for him, it would have been us.” “You were all my brightest colors.” “I wish I were more like you.” “I wish I were less like me.” “I am sped.”* And we will read them at dawn like litany. Stretching our voices to the corners of the universe. Asking for the wishes you make when you are scared. Or alone. Or both. That we may take them. And make a blanket. A blanket to cover our childhood and let it rest at last. I will take them. All the parts you no longer want. Give them to me. Because they are what make us beautiful. Give them to me. That I may forge them into pitch and feathers and craft mighty wings. That I may take flight from your worry. And soar on the updraft of your misconception. Give them to me. I will take them. Because I would rather burn like Icarus than to have never dared to fly.
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42
Perfection The subjection of one’s interjections Based on the world The world of today Can you change what you think What others have to say Were interconnected but not in connection With a convection of perfection that inhibits rejection Or constant correction of certain parts or sections That people fail to mention for their own protection Believing a misconception to gain desired affection Wasting their discretion for a false obsession Thoughts of concession and encouraging suppression This is just one dissection of perfection It is but one path, one direction But this should lead to many other questions What about succession from the term perfection? Is it needed to drive people to higher ascension? Maybe one day society can undergo a social resurrection Where creed, religion, race, freedom are not held in contention No more crimes, no need for detention Everyone is happy, no more thoughts of depression Everyone can be comfortable with their own reflection Hopefully this dissection can leave a lasting impression And drive home the need for a universal intervention To stop and think what it means strive for perfection For you may have it wrong upon further inspection
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Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 2:45 PM UTC
Dissection of Perfection
Every day we pass thousands of people on the street, and barely even a hello is exchanged, maybe a smile if your lucky. It might be a little funny to think that each of these people are going wherever they are going, they are living their lives and you have the opportunity to be apart of it even if it's just five seconds. You can do a lot with five seconds, for all you know a quick smile to someone passing by might change their life. Despite someone's appearance, they could be a completely different person that you might expect, breaking the stereotype. The sweet old women sitting next to you on the train, smiling and talking as if the world was heaven, is counting her numbered days. The coloured man across from you with the bloodied knuckles and bruised face saved a teenage girl from being ***** last night. The 18-year-old girl on the other side of the train, showing more skin than clothing in a ****** And the boy in the corner covered in tattoos and piercings and is wearing only black is on his way to the hospital to read to the children in the cancer wing like he does every afternoon ever since he lost his little sister. My point is simple, nothing is rarely as it seems. Each stranger you pass has there own story. Don't judge based off what you see because your vision is a misconception.
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Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 1:42 PM UTC
Breaking Stereotypes like Breaking Glass
In history class, we learned about witches. About them being hunted down. We were told this was all a misconception. That true witches were never to be found. But I know the real truth, The one everyone says is wrong. That while witches may be fake, The witch hunts are still going strong.
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Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 10:50 AM UTC
Witch Hunt
*Overthinking is a misconception We think that we are overthinking everything In reality we aren't. We are just normal minded people Thinking normal things Because we have feelings that need to be thought about We have people **** on us and walk on us We have people bring us to our knees And step on our faces So how are we to know who to trust when so many people let us down. We are not overthinking every possible situation, we are just thinking because maybe they will turn around and watch us drown.*
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Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 11:56 PM UTC
Overthinking is a Misconseption
You choose to ask me about me, you choose to want to know me. You speak words out my vocabulary! You speak of your world so fine. You lure me into your mind. You try speak the truth while talking lies. You tell me about beauty and brains combined. You tell me I look fine and my poetry is in line. You tell me you'd want to know if I'm woman enough. If I can really play tough with whips and cuffs! I ask you how? Cause this is my body? What more can a woman define being a woman? I then realise the misconception. Try give you direction, but your minds path is too narrow, filled with ***** ***** and lubes! Reluctant to teach a head with no backbone, I smile:) you then begin again. You tell me that that smile you have, is worth a million rands, you tell me my curves don't lie, that could handle me right? you tell me about the bed, the floor, the kitchen counter, you define me by how many rounds I can encounter! This is my body..how dare you try you undress me? How dare you define my womanhood out of desperate needs? You terminate my soul and don't bother to ask more. You say thanx like I did a good job. For watering your ego and moaning your insecurities away. Respect my body sir. Then ill Salute you.
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Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 7:17 AM UTC
Respect my body
I drank because it was a little less toxic Than the sensation of drowning Swaying to the music I could forget The waves pulling me under for a moment I searched for comfort Among cold, hallow people Bones had never shown love And that didn't change I was left to my pernicious thoughts Little girls shouldn't be morbid But women aren't made of love Though it is a common misconception
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Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 9:35 PM UTC
Princess is a mean word
She says he wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t worth it. I try to convince myself she’s right, that he’d pay attention if he were worth anything but that’s a nicety, an obvious misconception. There must be something wrong with me. There must be some things wrong with me. Somethings wrongs with me. If there wasn’t, he would like me. or text me back. He won’t text me back. She says he doesn’t want to look desperate. So I am searching, desperately, for the words I said the words I forget that turned him off. Was it because we had *** He said it wouldn’t change anything. He said he had always liked me. He said what he had to to get me in his bed, and now there's no text, no call, I don't see him, hear him, feel him, but somehow I can't move on.
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Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 8:59 PM UTC
Inner monologue of a broken heart.
He finds repression Skinned naked By depression In ultimate digression Healed by succession Only cheated by obsession Fooled by impression In every session He burns confession Hated for his transgression In ultimate digestion He finds progression He finds repression Skinned naked By depression In ultimate digression Cut by oppression Cheated by misconception Fooled by concession He burns mental possession.
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Feb 11, 2010
Feb 11, 2010 at 5:31 PM UTC
Intimate Aggression
In the short story, "The Rocking-Horse Winner" written by D.H. Lawrence, the young boy, Paul, associates luck with wealth and bets large amounts of money on the soon-to-be winning horses. His family is extremely wealthy but can barely afford to keep up to their title. What is one thing that society does not know yet the children do about the mother? They know that their mother does not love her own children. She gives them everything they need and want except for one thing. And that one thing they do need is love. One knows love by the look in their eyes. It is much more difficult to lie with eyes than with words and actions. She is materialistic and adores money and extravagance. I think we all agree that the mother is oblivious to her situation. How are we not like the mother? The truth is, we are exactly like the mother. She doesn't realize that love is not a number, money or products but that love is looking into one's eyes and showing true affection. We are in complete illusion that wealth leads to happiness. We think the same thoughts when the more we have, the more successful we may be however in reality, it is false. A perfect example is Black Friday. Companies, businesses and customers all decided to cut the Thanksgiving holiday to purchase more "stuff" to make them "happy". They decided to cut the time to spend with family, friends and relatives to spend for themselves and others. Who is the villain in the story? Most believe villains are a something or a someone who prevents the "good guy" from achieving their goal, also known as an antagonist, however the villain in this story cannot be seen, touched, smelled or even tasted. It can only be spoken and heard of. It is an imaginative villain. It is merely the manipulation of the mind of the misconception that luck is associated with wealth. This begins the entire issue with obsession and materialism. I'm sure we all agree that luck is something that happens to you without you possibly deserving or expecting it. But what is luck when others are given it? For example, if a random stranger gives your friend $100, another $1,000, but gave you only $20. Would you still feel lucky? Well, in all honesty it all depends on our circumstances, which then determine our values. Shouldn't it be reversed where our values determine our circumstances? In the end, over the many years of bets and deference, Paul has been riding his rocking horse to find the true winner and to find luck.
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Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 10:00 PM UTC
The Rocking-Horse Winner
In the short story, "The Rocking-Horse Winner" written by D.H. Lawrence, the young boy, Paul, associates luck with wealth and bets large amounts of money on the soon-to-be winning horses. His family is extremely wealthy but can barely afford to keep up to their title. What is one thing that society does not know yet the children do about the mother? They know that their mother does not love her own children. She gives them everything they need and want except for one thing. And that one thing they do need is love. One knows love by the look in their eyes. It is much more difficult to lie with eyes than with words and actions. She is materialistic and adores money and extravagance. I think we all agree that the mother is oblivious to her situation. How are we not like the mother? The truth is, we are exactly like the mother. She doesn't realize that love is not a number, money or products but that love is looking into one's eyes and showing true affection. We are in complete illusion that wealth leads to happiness. We think the same thoughts when the more we have, the more successful we may be however in reality, it is false. A perfect example is Black Friday. Companies, businesses and customers all decided to cut the Thanksgiving holiday to purchase more "stuff" to make them "happy". They decided to cut the time to spend with family, friends and relatives to spend for themselves and others. Who is the villain in the story? Most believe villains are a something or a someone who prevents the "good guy" from achieving their goal, also known as an antagonist, however the villain in this story cannot be seen, touched, smelled or even tasted. It can only be spoken and heard of. It is an imaginative villain. It is merely the manipulation of the mind of the misconception that luck is associated with wealth. This begins the entire issue with obsession and materialism. I'm sure we all agree that luck is something that happens to you without you possibly deserving or expecting it. But what is luck when others are given it? For example, if a random stranger gives your friend $100, another $1,000, but gave you only $20. Would you still feel lucky? Well, in all honesty it all depends on our circumstances, which then determine our values. Shouldn't it be reversed where our values determine our circumstances? In the end, over the many years of bets and deference, Paul has been riding his rocking horse to find the true winner and to find luck.
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2
It happened to be a Frontier of deception cowards in fear with no visual perception Tender feet blister from the miles they run Enlightenment was needed, we lost the meaning of fun Struggle was a word that become a wish in our heads For what We were going through ripped our courage to shreds A weeping song vibrated at night To carry my brother to the never ending light Forsaken children taken from the ones that they loved Family's driven through madness, here his life had been shoved Down a drain where one should take there last breath So there for Inception was the misconception before my best friends unmeaningful death
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Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 1:18 AM UTC
Brother.
Stripping down the heavy clothing worn by words, we all stand naked in our misconception. Ashamed of the nothing we wear in voices and faces, covering with our hands the things we're most embarrassed about showing, even to the ones love. Underneath a cloak of conversation we hide the truths that we can't share. There are not enough words to explain what we feel when we stand in front of a mirror looking at every square inch of our own bodies. And there is not enough clothing to silence the screams of every atom in our skin when we speak to each other.
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Jan 29, 2012
Jan 29, 2012 at 1:43 PM UTC
the ****** of language
My pretty friend, the definition, ...a Chopin-esque romantic, needing intervention frantically resilient, a mere honorable mention ...burning for forgiveness with hypertension Craving your redemption. In the secret section you mention ...there's tension in your confession another missed connection ...misled by another's deception the impression on the connection ...a misconception on another selection rejection is a whole new obsession ...this seventh dimension perception the impression is to employ prevention. Because Attention Attention!! ...need I not mention there's no landing affections ...just internal tension my infection is your retention ...misappropriation. ......misapprehension.
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May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 10:09 AM UTC
Attention Attention!
A man went for a walk one day. He seemed to be searching for something as he hurried about, "Just a rock covered in dirt nothing special he says while he walks away".   A little girl walking down the same path carefully inspects each rock   She examines each one and than picks up the same rock that the man   had rejected.   She holds it in her hands lifts it up toward the sun and says," you may not look like much outside , but I have a feeling that your true worth lies within you". She excitedly skips down the path and brings it home and proudly presents the rock to her father. He carefully takes the rock and breaks it open and discovers the treasure that lies within, a geode that is sparkling like diamonds in the light. In life people at times are too quick to judge according to appearances alone. They hurry through life seem to be searching for something but not taking time to discover what life has to offer us through one another. They might even perceive that another person is like dirt,and with that misconception they miss out in discovering another's true worth. Upon closer examination they might discover that the other person has many great qualities and can become a treasured friend. If only they would slow down and take the time to take a closer look so that they don't miss the hidden treasure that lies within.
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Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 1:42 PM UTC
Hidden Treasure
He is the inconvenient truth, And always goes unnoticed. I guess it's for the better, I would hate to be ****** into, His heart he hides, Under the vacant smiles. He is the boy who tells white lies, And balms his good intentions. I want him to tell me so, I hate the fact he doesn't. His mouth just seeps sugar, What he thinks I want to hear. He is a constant misconception, And prides himself on his demeanour. They think of him as nice, or kind, I hate the fact I see the latter. His delusions of how things should be, Will never cloud my judgement. For what I hate the most about him, Is that I know who he really is, And it's sad, he wouldn't recognise reflection.
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Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 4:51 PM UTC
Gentleman
Does a man turn away from right and good Brought to the fact of humility not being able to provide Children crying day and night denied everyday necessities A lack of pride in being a man among men Perceived lazy by a society that never has been hungry Does man lack character, ethics, and moral stability On dark cold chilling nights with no shelter or stillness Caught up in a fight for mere  wake in the morning survival Things never perceived when childhood dreams were dreamed When does enough become enough for you and I How many go postal events or deaths in the streets For the norm not to be normal in the sight of us all Suffered long enough to bring suffering to an end The level of misconception considered deeply
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Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 8:20 AM UTC
A Level of Misconception
New flesh nudist art next to a pretty dress as a naked eye sees want it wants to see A little of an unexplored world in between —ironically a queen on her knees A flowing river; centre tongue licking drips of a honey cup Tip toeing sounds, silently in their subtle under the secret sheets towing the sky A mist for night; a mister of the charges —who leads who Being lonely for two, been through a misconception of missing you So I just sit, waiting in this empty room
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Dec 11, 2022
Dec 11, 2022 at 5:10 PM UTC
Empty room
By Arcassin B "Nerdy kid from Queens in the city that never sleeps, Single moments without the peace and ability to be eased, Simplicity to finding your dreams replacing the deeper means, With a Genius intellect, No these kids can not rival me, I was brought up and taught these things and took the blessings, A misconception in human minds don't get the message, Babylon in full effect ,is where we're all headed, One day I'm gonna be something,I think manifest it, My teenage years were pretty weird and wasn't kind to me, Richard and Mary Parker was just distant memory, If anything I found myself a remedy to cope with thinking why I found all of this as a stranger dreaming, Who knew one day I actually become a man? Who knew one I'd actually have a real friend? Who knew one day that I would be bitten by a radioactive engineered Spider in the very end?..... ◾ (New Poem Titled "Responsibility" to Spider-Man Project Coming soon!) Full Poem below⬇️ ◾ ©abpoetry2022
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Jun 12, 2022
Jun 12, 2022 at 6:13 PM UTC
"Responsibility"
My sweetheart is very sweet, I never thought he could be a cheat.. But my sweetheart being very sweet, My misconception did beat... My sweetheart is very cute, For me he used to play piano and at times flute, My sweetheart being very cute, With his flute, at me loads of love did shoot... My sweetheart is very important, He never left me alone and nowhere did went... My sweetheart being very important.. With his attitude, today went..
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Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 11:21 PM UTC
My sweetheart
I lost you at the start of this inception A process to change your haunted perception Fight it, fake it, Falling for my perfect deception Do you have the mettle, to allow this poison to settle? Embrace this ugly infection Sickness by forced injection. For you don't have the strength to last against the twisted demons of your past With one lonely taste, the devil awakes With the blood of angels, your lips are stained You have fallen, sinner, lost all you've gained Repent now? Too late! There will be no objection To this marriage of misconception Your pain truly hides inside this illusion My presence will only further push your bending mind into seclusion You haven't given me one silly reason To lend you my hand Is it your plan, To continue onward with this treason? Change? Unseen by the turning season This was all a lie, you won't get by This is where monsters come to die I control this twisted dream, The honorable seizin Let me lead you to the stream Where your ears can drown in haunting screams We can rinse your lying lungs clean Tear the tears from the obscene To burn your eyes, a brutal reception Savor the harshness of this deception
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Apr 10, 2011
Apr 10, 2011 at 9:21 AM UTC
Deception
.                       .                          .     .             .          .               .        .    .    .     .     .     .     .    .    .      i     stare  at  a  docile  ocean               waveless   sun   accosted            dark and shadow edged            tinned with men's brave            history of misconception     i                                    'Dragonne'.                'Colossuus'.                                        'Cetaecean'.                                                   - Leviathan  ?                        As sure as hope setting sail  -                        Past shoal, past shallow,                                       So each chase begins.                        Lines parsing out,                          Expectations coyly                        Embroidered,                        Entwin-ned.                        -  Leviathan  ?                         Pray please this narrative be drawn :                           Truth for sake of safe harbour;                         Stillness without caution;                         Softly ripening dawn;                         Jupiter and Venus descendant,                         Celestial promise anon ?                                                                         -  Leviathan .                 Violence          the casual violence of life              the worst kind     not casual really   but whats violence anyway       few knew why    why ask why    the few      once  the  dice  flipped  get        its         a flying             a mind            a dunzo game              gravity responds  we hope              hope together sake                              to    gether we   short the freaks   short em' all   them freakin freaks      freaks            i want you I want yours              i want to take  you over                   take control  take over                         29' run        kontrol        all night                                                        day                              long             time                                                                end  time                   everthing happens forfurfor                                      fit                          ur               once and done     (nature)                                          forfeiture                      reason                  or ur other        or ur another                         or ur a altogether reason                                                                               or simple GP          drunkworld                                                                                                       reason                               (nurture)                         surprise my ripest faither -                                                     less                              5 rise  10 run                                                   huh                    up the                   down and dumb             dumb  ber                   right left        left                                                         right thum ber                               number one                                                 number                                                                                                 numb - ber                                    one                                                       ones                                                            another                                                                                                       come                                 under                                                             the                                   (tumb)                                                                                                             .                                                      All Rights Reserved. James R. Morse, NYC  2013.
0
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 9:48 PM UTC
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
.                       .                          .     .             .          .               .        .    .    .     .     .     .     .    .    .      i     stare  at  a  docile  ocean               waveless   sun   accosted            dark and shadow edged            tinned with men's brave            history of misconception     i                                    'Dragonne'.                'Colossuus'.                                        'Cetaecean'.                                                   - Leviathan  ?                        As sure as hope setting sail  -                        Past shoal, past shallow,                                       So each chase begins.                        Lines parsing out,                          Expectations coyly                        Embroidered,                        Entwin-ned.                        -  Leviathan  ?                         Pray please this narrative be drawn :                           Truth for sake of safe harbour;                         Stillness without caution;                         Softly ripening dawn;                         Jupiter and Venus descendant,                         Celestial promise anon ?                                                                         -  Leviathan .                 Violence          the casual violence of life              the worst kind     not casual really   but whats violence anyway       few knew why    why ask why    the few      once  the  dice  flipped  get        its         a flying             a mind            a dunzo game              gravity responds  we hope              hope together sake                              to    gether we   short the freaks   short em' all   them freakin freaks      freaks            i want you I want yours              i want to take  you over                   take control  take over                         29' run        kontrol        all night                                                        day                              long             time                                                                end  time                   everthing happens forfurfor                                      fit                          ur               once and done     (nature)                                          forfeiture                      reason                  or ur other        or ur another                         or ur a altogether reason                                                                               or simple GP          drunkworld                                                                                                       reason                               (nurture)                         surprise my ripest faither -                                                     less                              5 rise  10 run                                                   huh                    up the                   down and dumb             dumb  ber                   right left        left                                                         right thum ber                               number one                                                 number                                                                                                 numb - ber                                    one                                                       ones                                                            another                                                                                                       come                                 under                                                             the                                   (tumb)                                                                                                             .                                                      All Rights Reserved. James R. Morse, NYC  2013.
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62
Sensual by Aphrodite gift Crafted by serenades Beauty carved by the finest blade Hazel diamond shades It’s often said, weakness for elegant grace Drives the loveliest man insane Deprived to be nocturnal Sleepless nights Cursed in vain Any man to have you… Thorns of pain that feels eternal Magnificently a breath taker by divine Hallucination of the fibbed eye To tell such lies Rhythm of the velvet heart Harmonies sung so peacefully & softly Spirits are drawn together Like two alabaster doves   Loving each other daily & nightly Ever the moment Hug you dearly Love you Like no God can ever imagine Look me in the eyes Can’t we just make life happen? Lonesome heart One failure after another Misunderstood compassion Misconception for love is lost Despite of my action Empty like deep space Searching from dream & reality For the sweetest taste Asking question from the wise Oracle Will my heart ever find a mate? Echo’s from the cryptic name Reminiscing in the hollow mind Close your eyes This is all a daze Smoke with delusional haze Crossing paths… Can’t across the maze Forbidden until time fades… Grab both your hands Maybe the next lifetime Where daylight shows its beauty rays… Never in all the life times had I lived Time and century From one past to present The future blooms From the tiniest seed That grows life To where our souls might cross one day In the sphere Of Gaia Green plants from the beautiful ground Blue skies Surrounded by the beautiful white angel Look after her soul Protect her from who they once stole Care for her For she brings heart & soul As the story goes,     The weak & the needy Dream for no blackheart Shot by the arrow that purges Life Love each other Never fall apart As the sunset sets Silhouettes of the appealing moon Dream I’ll soon… Privileged to have created a night A sea of enjoyment From the one dream Failure to grasp beauty Until now As if kismet intended to be… Love each day As if it’s your last For one day Maybe we could lie in the grass Consume life For all it’s glory One day will write a story If not now Then a lifetime is worth waiting
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Jan 25, 2013
Jan 25, 2013 at 4:23 AM UTC
Moon
Sensual by Aphrodite gift Crafted by serenades Beauty carved by the finest blade Hazel diamond shades It’s often said, weakness for elegant grace Drives the loveliest man insane Deprived to be nocturnal Sleepless nights Cursed in vain Any man to have you… Thorns of pain that feels eternal Magnificently a breath taker by divine Hallucination of the fibbed eye To tell such lies Rhythm of the velvet heart Harmonies sung so peacefully & softly Spirits are drawn together Like two alabaster doves   Loving each other daily & nightly Ever the moment Hug you dearly Love you Like no God can ever imagine Look me in the eyes Can’t we just make life happen? Lonesome heart One failure after another Misunderstood compassion Misconception for love is lost Despite of my action Empty like deep space Searching from dream & reality For the sweetest taste Asking question from the wise Oracle Will my heart ever find a mate? Echo’s from the cryptic name Reminiscing in the hollow mind Close your eyes This is all a daze Smoke with delusional haze Crossing paths… Can’t across the maze Forbidden until time fades… Grab both your hands Maybe the next lifetime Where daylight shows its beauty rays… Never in all the life times had I lived Time and century From one past to present The future blooms From the tiniest seed That grows life To where our souls might cross one day In the sphere Of Gaia Green plants from the beautiful ground Blue skies Surrounded by the beautiful white angel Look after her soul Protect her from who they once stole Care for her For she brings heart & soul As the story goes,     The weak & the needy Dream for no blackheart Shot by the arrow that purges Life Love each other Never fall apart As the sunset sets Silhouettes of the appealing moon Dream I’ll soon… Privileged to have created a night A sea of enjoyment From the one dream Failure to grasp beauty Until now As if kismet intended to be… Love each day As if it’s your last For one day Maybe we could lie in the grass Consume life For all it’s glory One day will write a story If not now Then a lifetime is worth waiting
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His mouth puckers to the side, his brow furrows when aware an assumption crawls around in the wormwood of his mind. Every misconception, unrecognized at first swells within, until his error bolts forth like lighting on the prairie breaks the swelter of a summer day. Meditations sooth his disquiet , perplexed by her perfection he searches for scars in blossoms, and defects in tree leaves. His mouth grows dry as he mumbles "there is no perfection." If he finds a flaw upon her cheek, or a birthmark on her shoulder will his love fade? Eyes staring ahead, his mind in a trance, he ruminates phrases " stay open," "remain tolerant" wait for flowers to bloom, rains to come and her to remain incomprehensible.
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Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 4:02 PM UTC
Fear of Delusion
Creatively wit, artistically gifted - politically inclined to design any archetype of freedom and how a woman should hold her head up high, like the almighty God she is. Able to disfigure the illusions and misconception that the media and other forms of capitalistic control, teach her fellow sisters and Queen. Prove to them that not only are they more than this 'sex symbol', And being blind to this facts, just helps perpetuate the conditioning of self-hate, that you're not light enough or too dark - you're just something that helps the sun shine on their fare skin. And you're ****** is worth nothing more than it was compensated fo' 450 years ago, to birth being that yet again go through the cycle of supremacy. But you say, **** ALL THAT - I'm a Queen, GOD IS SHE. So kiss my fat *** and my appletree. Because me and my sisters sill no longer accept your misogynistic disrespect and immoral, emotional neglect. Your referendums for ****** favors in exchange what is due me, ****** freedom and freedom to do whatever the **** I please. And ever since I saw those defining characteristics in thee, Since, I've always respected you as my Queen.
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Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 9:38 PM UTC
"Queen"