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Arcassin B Apr 2015
By Arcassin Burnham

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm,
That smile,
Those eyes,
You could make a blind man realize
His purpose in this world,
The beauty in you resurrects me,
Plastic genocide purple roses with the red thorns,
Demon gardens couldn't keep me away,
From tasting your warm embrace,
Kissing your gorgeous face,
Embracing your life,
And extra love just in case,
We stare deeply into each others ya know....
We kiss for hours with no sign of the world and the people in it,
I needed you to be my everything,
I have you back,
And now Moms don't know why I kept smiling,
Blushing,
Loving,
Bubbling,
With joy,
Needed you in my life to fill the void,
Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
:)
Saddal Diab Feb 2018
Coffee granule melt and sing

Coffee granule this instant bring

Breathe new life

Shake up my nerves

Jolt me up

From this stubborn slumber

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm

The hit is swift

Right on the spot

What once was dazed

Can thump and knock
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2018
only recently, have my ears spoken
of a piece of music
i can give a name to,
  in the firm, yet comfortable
accommodation of a memory...
just before the would-be
footballers
walked onto the pitch,
of england versus the world's
XI...
            the choir piece...
i searched the internet to
            hear the same anthem...

people contra people...
and the people have spoken...
   it's not exactly
beethoven's ode to joy...
   but händel's zadok the priest...
that...
        incalculable hovering
sensation,
    that humming bird's worth
of orchestating
a differentiation of purpose...
      
with ears, rather than via eyes,
will i come to understand
the holy rest, the eternal,
yet all too familiar...
                             before then?
a whiff of dust bound to
     being cushioned by fog...

my god! a soviet choir!
                          polyushka polye!
such a subtle variant
at the unicef vs. england football
game!
        komrad stav!
                 we've come far
beyond the concept of paris!
          and to think...
   music as a subconscious force
en masse is not a ******* oyster...
a delicacy...
       when the masses are
exposed to a piece of music:
i really have to try to remember
what i listened to...
   mind you...
          if the pristine ones are
to be trusted, then a memory
of 4 hours ago is not to be trusted,
but the stated song is an amnesia
in synonym...
        
    a people are a people:
you can either play chess,
     in a humble abode,
or play chess with people,
                    in a tsar's castle...
which is middle-income
of england by any globalist plateau
standard...
              
   choirs sing synonym anyway:
there's always something profound,
like Verdi's chant of the hebrew
slaves in Nabucco...
               but this song
beginning with the charity match
at old trafford?

            escapes me...
                    yeden osem L kak
zapomnie'c is but one song from 2004,
or 5, or 6... can't remember...

mmmmmmmmmmmmmm...
itchy conscience riddling alzheimer's
in a true experience of
militant protein particles
and lazy aminos...
    
               close to a soviet choir
will not be enough to have the identity
of the song revealed...
   i'm pretty sure there was a choir
involved...
      
          no wonder people began
to fathom a concept: we, the people...
given the discrepency of
an "i" in continuum...
          a momentum like a ******...
and then, perhaps an obituary...

   obituary in a newspaper,
doesn't buy you an epitaph!
      look!
            how many people are
allowed an epitaph on their grave,
the said: seal, and the said:
    but once!       huh?
       i've walked a graveyard
more than once...
      how many epitaphs
have i seen?
        not, one!
                
         because the choir in heaven
is not soviet, transcendent death?!

people die with contraints
       and said day of birth,
and unsaid day of passing...
       but no... epiphany post-scriptum,
post vitae...
       the mark of eternity,
an epitaph...

              i know the unicef vs. england
2018 song was not polyushka polye...
  
        apparently the search engine
that's the base of the internet
doesn't have all the answers.

— The End —