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"mutable" poems
for those who are concerned; I dispersed within the vastness of outer space. My body, once caged all the stars, are finally in its resting place. Maybe here, I am finally seen by those who romanticize the deathly night. I am at a tranquil state, where all the planets are aligned just right. No deaths, no violence, no wars, no fights. No existential pain or crisis to plague a human's state of mind. I am bound within the molecules of space and time, dancing on asteroids, I am entwined. Finally, my body is free from the darkest of pains that had wallowed in my rib cage. All the bottled emotions that had forever kept me enraged. I have exploded into a beautiful mess, now the size of silica. I am in motion, twinkling for those bellow in such a sorrowful world, as they paint me in Starry Night replicas. They'll be envious to hear that I am conversing with Van Gogh himself. We are in the cloudless night, a painting in a museum, and history within books on a bookshelf. We're sprinkled in the dark like a beautiful combustion. All the answers written in the stars for what we once questioned. He tells me "be clearly aware of the stars and infinity on high." And that was enough for me to just get by. I am a galaxy, freed in the vastness of the universe. Into this new life of neighboring planets and meteors, my body will immerse. I am the stars you see on your lonely nights. And this time, please take your time to analyze my light. I know I'm a mess, but I can make it beautiful. For what it's worth, I once took the form of a dying artist, whom was so mutable.
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Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 7:55 PM UTC
When An Artist Dies.
for those who are concerned; I dispersed within the vastness of outer space. My body, once caged all the stars, are finally in its resting place. Maybe here, I am finally seen by those who romanticize the deathly night. I am at a tranquil state, where all the planets are aligned just right. No deaths, no violence, no wars, no fights. No existential pain or crisis to plague a human's state of mind. I am bound within the molecules of space and time, dancing on asteroids, I am entwined. Finally, my body is free from the darkest of pains that had wallowed in my rib cage. All the bottled emotions that had forever kept me enraged. I have exploded into a beautiful mess, now the size of silica. I am in motion, twinkling for those bellow in such a sorrowful world, as they paint me in Starry Night replicas. They'll be envious to hear that I am conversing with Van Gogh himself. We are in the cloudless night, a painting in a museum, and history within books on a bookshelf. We're sprinkled in the dark like a beautiful combustion. All the answers written in the stars for what we once questioned. He tells me "be clearly aware of the stars and infinity on high." And that was enough for me to just get by. I am a galaxy, freed in the vastness of the universe. Into this new life of neighboring planets and meteors, my body will immerse. I am the stars you see on your lonely nights. And this time, please take your time to analyze my light. I know I'm a mess, but I can make it beautiful. For what it's worth, I once took the form of a dying artist, whom was so mutable.
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23
Mirror, mirror on the wall, Who is the fairest of us all? Skin so delicate and fair Blue eyes and long black hair A good king, a good daughter A wicked stepmother One day full of gloom and dread When The Wicked heard it said "The Daughter is the fairest, O' dear! You are second best!" The Wicked was wild with jelousy And begun plotting conspiracy Getting rid of the fair lady Was the wicked plan of the day The Wicked called on her servant The name was **** Cindy Bribed her with riches women want Promised her a gift of beauty So **** Cindy and The Daughter Went into the depth of the forest **** Cindy has led the pretty girl She surely must put her to death! Our **** Cindy however Found the girl a thing of beauty **** Cindy's courage betrayed her Excused herself and ran away The pretty daughter was left alone Terribly scared but still alive Tears fell as she thought of home Doubtful if she will ever survive **** Cindy returned to the castle Showing a heart of a roe deer And served as a loyal vassal To The Ever Wicked stepmother So **** Cindy got rewarded With unimaginable riches Lasting beauty she was awarded At last she got her wishes At night our **** Cindy Her riches, all she gathered And then she vanished swiftly Away from The Ever Wicked Meanwhile the pretty daughter Found a place to stay That house was full of laughter And the rest was history Highly pleased now The Wicked Turned again to the mirror But her hopes became unsettled After the unpleasant cheer She must die! She must die! Went The Wicked's awful cry She became an old peasant Killed the girl with a poison And so the pretty daughter Laid in the forest for days The cute house lost its laughter The Wicked went on her ways The sad news reached the town And to our **** Cindy So she wore her sexiest gown And started on her journey Into the forest she went Looking for that pretty girl Her heart skipped and bent Feeling that awesome thrill **** Cindy found The Daughter Lying on a wooden bed "Thy beauty is oh, so rare!" Was the thought inside her head She could not help but wet her lips Staring at the sleeping lady She felt a tingle below her hips And sensation inside her belly They said no man can wake the girl And maybe no man really can? So **** Cindy kissed The Daughter And so her passion has began The kiss was oddly very awesome And it stirred the sleeping girl It brought a funny slurpy sound Waking up The Royal Daughter "Oh God! Oh my! Oh my! Oh my beautiful princess! Take my hand, come with me Away from this very place!" So **** Cindy and The Daughter They ran away together Across the land of nowhere Where they lived happily ever after Mirror, mirror on the wall, Who is the fairest of us all? "Snow and Cindy are the fairest O' dear! Now you're the third best!" ~THE END~
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Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 12:51 AM UTC
Mutable
Mirror, mirror on the wall, Who is the fairest of us all? Skin so delicate and fair Blue eyes and long black hair A good king, a good daughter A wicked stepmother One day full of gloom and dread When The Wicked heard it said "The Daughter is the fairest, O' dear! You are second best!" The Wicked was wild with jelousy And begun plotting conspiracy Getting rid of the fair lady Was the wicked plan of the day The Wicked called on her servant The name was **** Cindy Bribed her with riches women want Promised her a gift of beauty So **** Cindy and The Daughter Went into the depth of the forest **** Cindy has led the pretty girl She surely must put her to death! Our **** Cindy however Found the girl a thing of beauty **** Cindy's courage betrayed her Excused herself and ran away The pretty daughter was left alone Terribly scared but still alive Tears fell as she thought of home Doubtful if she will ever survive **** Cindy returned to the castle Showing a heart of a roe deer And served as a loyal vassal To The Ever Wicked stepmother So **** Cindy got rewarded With unimaginable riches Lasting beauty she was awarded At last she got her wishes At night our **** Cindy Her riches, all she gathered And then she vanished swiftly Away from The Ever Wicked Meanwhile the pretty daughter Found a place to stay That house was full of laughter And the rest was history Highly pleased now The Wicked Turned again to the mirror But her hopes became unsettled After the unpleasant cheer She must die! She must die! Went The Wicked's awful cry She became an old peasant Killed the girl with a poison And so the pretty daughter Laid in the forest for days The cute house lost its laughter The Wicked went on her ways The sad news reached the town And to our **** Cindy So she wore her sexiest gown And started on her journey Into the forest she went Looking for that pretty girl Her heart skipped and bent Feeling that awesome thrill **** Cindy found The Daughter Lying on a wooden bed "Thy beauty is oh, so rare!" Was the thought inside her head She could not help but wet her lips Staring at the sleeping lady She felt a tingle below her hips And sensation inside her belly They said no man can wake the girl And maybe no man really can? So **** Cindy kissed The Daughter And so her passion has began The kiss was oddly very awesome And it stirred the sleeping girl It brought a funny slurpy sound Waking up The Royal Daughter "Oh God! Oh my! Oh my! Oh my beautiful princess! Take my hand, come with me Away from this very place!" So **** Cindy and The Daughter They ran away together Across the land of nowhere Where they lived happily ever after Mirror, mirror on the wall, Who is the fairest of us all? "Snow and Cindy are the fairest O' dear! Now you're the third best!" ~THE END~
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95
Nostradamus and sleeping prophet's One lost image of the singular Eye Re(ad(d): No worry To, Love Our Sun :). Signs like Gemini is to air Sagittarius is to fire a pair in this crossing with Pisces to water is Virgo for earth too We are the mutable ones!! Sunny is however we coin the calling spiraling too EYE of the One generation transmutable souls of soil ARE to earth; 'hues EYED like a butterfly, here to sample many flowers connected within a Great Spirit invoked as in wilds if peopled or things'!!! We do feel it within or without the actual considerations of the ultimate doings; 'letting go and taking the risk of trusting and depending on another'!!! One by one!!! :) EYE of humus hued in spirit and love fused to the stone's twirling and of the ruse's tolling So many of paths we traverse here as on earth the singular EYE knows out on the HORIZON The great Eye is too glued on Sunny Sun's ever evolving viewing's as hued spirits cross          EYE'S Our blinded one eye's longing to Lyra's lyre, great musician Orpheus winging, whose           W music tamed wild beasts, caused rivers to stop flowing and enchanted even gates                    S to the Lord of the Dead Hades, the softly lit fire singing inside linking heaven                            A               to earth viewed from outsider's hues waxing and waning of sleep wakened                              I N so ode to the moon in the darkness of night gives but who takes her softer                               F USED delight when One day halves by sun setting all ebbs in flowing as tides                                       B I            to Great oceans moved like hearts breathe air to presence's emoting                                              STAR'S   from magic to tragic we long of ecliptic traces cryptically erasing                                                      W the blindness of memory and sight' majestic beast's floundering                                                            I a forever crisscrossed from the One Eye here now to Knight's                                                                N dear lost forbidden inner retreats from the East to God's lost                                                                     'S children cast out to the land from blood pooling in spoils                                                                        O as easily uncovered as readily as new western lands had                                 ~/ E \~                               N   claim maddened ravaged savagely eagerly discovered                                 ~(:YES :)~                          G fear still rocks this boat with hope still sailing onward                                (:FORGIVEN:).                       'S
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Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 7:52 PM UTC
Columbus's Crossing
Nostradamus and sleeping prophet's One lost image of the singular Eye Re(ad(d): No worry To, Love Our Sun :). Signs like Gemini is to air Sagittarius is to fire a pair in this crossing with Pisces to water is Virgo for earth too We are the mutable ones!! Sunny is however we coin the calling spiraling too EYE of the One generation transmutable souls of soil ARE to earth; 'hues EYED like a butterfly, here to sample many flowers connected within a Great Spirit invoked as in wilds if peopled or things'!!! We do feel it within or without the actual considerations of the ultimate doings; 'letting go and taking the risk of trusting and depending on another'!!! One by one!!! :) EYE of humus hued in spirit and love fused to the stone's twirling and of the ruse's tolling So many of paths we traverse here as on earth the singular EYE knows out on the HORIZON The great Eye is too glued on Sunny Sun's ever evolving viewing's as hued spirits cross          EYE'S Our blinded one eye's longing to Lyra's lyre, great musician Orpheus winging, whose           W music tamed wild beasts, caused rivers to stop flowing and enchanted even gates                    S to the Lord of the Dead Hades, the softly lit fire singing inside linking heaven                            A               to earth viewed from outsider's hues waxing and waning of sleep wakened                              I N so ode to the moon in the darkness of night gives but who takes her softer                               F USED delight when One day halves by sun setting all ebbs in flowing as tides                                       B I            to Great oceans moved like hearts breathe air to presence's emoting                                              STAR'S   from magic to tragic we long of ecliptic traces cryptically erasing                                                      W the blindness of memory and sight' majestic beast's floundering                                                            I a forever crisscrossed from the One Eye here now to Knight's                                                                N dear lost forbidden inner retreats from the East to God's lost                                                                     'S children cast out to the land from blood pooling in spoils                                                                        O as easily uncovered as readily as new western lands had                                 ~/ E \~                               N   claim maddened ravaged savagely eagerly discovered                                 ~(:YES :)~                          G fear still rocks this boat with hope still sailing onward                                (:FORGIVEN:).                       'S
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32
By: Cedric McClester You know he’s full of stuff When the evidence ain’t enough And he’s acting like a cream puff By not calling Putin’s bluff If I labeled him a scaredy-cat Or better yet Putin’s new doormat Would that raise the thermostat, And flush out that Norway rat? When the evidence is irrefutable To the point that it’s not disputable His response is always mutable And comes out as most unsuitable Then his mouthpiece attempts to frame An alibi, but we’re hip to her game She can’t absolve him of the blame Though she tries to just the same So you better believe and trust That she looks ridiculous When she’s being duplicitous By trying to fool the rest of us It’s a sin to stand there and lie But she gives it a college try Like the mistress of deny As if the Ten Commandment don’t apply They interfered with our election With a clear cut interjection Of cybernet deflection Without protest or objection Two days before his inauguration He was told of the Russian’s participation Much to his own consternation Yet he still voices reservations Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2018.  All rights reserved.
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Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 1:15 PM UTC
YOU KNOW HE’S FULL OF STUFF
Quite admirable , awe-inspiring , a divine piece of manufacture It’s capriciousness is an equivalent of swooning of rapture This carpet conveys itself as flawless , the fragrance is pleasant The glossy finish generates a yearning to have it present The blissful texture is mesmerizing , subject to perfect knitting Not to mention it’s size is perfectly fitting ~ Though the alternative side seems worn and tattered And the fabric surrounding is scattered There are pockets and splits There are strewed fiber bits Along the edges are multicolored spots And the yarn had formed knots ~ At that point the onlooker would become flustered helplessly Were they to take it into their tenancy ? Sure it was depleted And maybe it was slightly untreated Though it was equally handsome Despite it’s opposing filthy expansion ~ Then the beholder would ponder a tad And realize the flaws weren't so bad They were to be contemplated abnormally Though as well stood out morbidly The allotment seemed now suitable And each side was mutable
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Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 6:03 PM UTC
Perception
Is it ambiguity that frustrates you; instead it was my gift to you But why question a bird in its cage or a caterpillar in its cocoon? That is not the life that matters, only the life to become; creation is not destiny and destiny is not the past for as the bird is released so too are words into your mind to fly where they may Do not hold them fast; let them take you where the vastness of your imagination and dreams may go because you will not see the cage; it will remain empty without memory or purpose The sky is who you are; there is nothing left of the past or what someone may have felt or thought at the time; the words have become your own, changing, mutable, free
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Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 11:00 AM UTC
Ambiguity (what did I really mean?)
the path to love is elsewhere surface folds create the illusion of depth in a fully mutable system this is you roving and roiling on your open palm an offer of lack in lieu of fulfilment
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Feb 3, 2019
Feb 3, 2019 at 6:03 PM UTC
two mirrors set to face one another
Thin-legged, thin-chested, slight unspeakably, Neat-footed and weak-fingered: in his face-- Lean, large-boned, curved of beak, and touched with race, Bold-lipped, rich-tinted, mutable as the sea, The brown eyes radiant with vivacity-- There shines a brilliant and romantic grace, A spirit intense and rare, with trace on trace Of passion and impudence and energy. Valiant in velvet, light in ragged luck, Most vain, most generous, sternly critical, Buffoon and poet, lover and sensualist: A deal of Ariel, just a streak of Puck, Much Antony, of Hamlet most of all, And something of the Shorter-Catechist.
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1.6k
Apparition
Please keep breathing well. Thanks for the "No-Nonsense planet of Saturn moves into the Tell-It-Like-It-Is sign of Scorpio on October 5, 2012, where it will stay until September 2015" info... and most beautifully for the flashy greens flying about!!! I have some drafts to finish to some point while I can still feel them...take heart of the best parts and air enough till fires burn new sight and flight in the mutable delights of Earth's warmer waters...XOR!!!
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Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 1:35 PM UTC
Understood standing.
in gentle circles, a single blade amidst the field inside slowly ascends: twists salt earth, a mutable red-black tree, an unbalanced myself. a place we swayed trickles back. i set foot, with wish to waste enough time to forget ever opening towards the light spilling out behind your eyes. misery sinks my teeth into her arm, slows and grasps cohort as i take shelter. as i find metric in my own chest. as i **** up, grow tired, stop. watch shadows on the ceiling. i could float away. i could float away. i could float away. i could float away. if only i wanted to.
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Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 11:43 PM UTC
repetitive
Born to be inscrutable although maybe, it's disputable somethings are not so mutable when boy and girl, unsuitable Clothes will go out first you won't know, you're coerced no more to quench your thirst as in her now, immersed A bad boy reputation the girl with expectation attempting reformation you're into, transformation Down the path to bliss you must remember this a kiss is just a kiss it's yourself, you'll miss
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Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 8:46 AM UTC
She'll change you boy
Four on the fold; Turned within: Coil and Pyramid An eye for an eye makes No world deaf No love held No life had Not a moment here Or a road in sight [...] Once upon a time, when you, like him along the Rhine Thought of your reflection, Mutable in the current You too grasped that chance for No representation, no reality Beyond that weariness Yet Your pain, you didn’t know Became the king’s austerity [...] Cloak and Dagger, a dove came In the night like a thief on the hour arrived Unexpectedly, inexplicable as A sickness or sage or words to tell why Why? Why? Why me? She too stole that power from, Usurping the crown from above Reason, elevated unto —Passed down from— Hand in hand in the Court of the heart And here yet again Yet again you’re here!
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Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 4:43 PM UTC
Job and the German mystic...
We're young. God we're young. We're young and rebels all. Rebels with every cause and to every glorious effect. We melt the sun away, And howl at the moon. We carry our dreams in our jeans, Our heads in our hearts. Screams soaked in ocean surf- The highest highs and lowest lows as but tide on our toes. The big black always behind us, The big bang always ahead. We cut the chains of a criminal cage, Search for the red in our veins. In all of us a personal summer, Pushed by fear of future winters. A timeless truth over a thousand permutations, A thousand generations, a thousand germinations: We are. We are fires in the night, stars in a sublunary sky. We are mutable gases born by open wind, We are illumination, awakening, engendering. We seek the world and spurn the rest. We are young. God we're young. -c. c. Condry
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Mar 12, 2011
Mar 12, 2011 at 8:18 PM UTC
Rebels All
we wound in stars on old fishing rods; reeling on promises from days where the light still brought species, clutter, schematic belief. you caught three. i caught nothing, but glimmers of hope. allusions and reality are often cleft, though. this truth i'd rather cast, like myself, over cliff-face. but, i alone am mutable in this scheme. you named yours as blank-faced children, born to the sea. predictably, i named mine woe. fate moves through seasons, sovereign groups, ways set down to dot. the object stands; here lies truth. this is the truth: pebbles form kiltered circles under the dock. floating above the architecture of my ribs consuming churned air, i watch me fade. i discern and too, dilapidate. you raised yours with colour in iris. i picked mine up lovingly- this woe is awake and tightly circling.
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Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 10:54 PM UTC
sleight
When I am with you I wanna lose my center he would say to you gently without words he would translate you into his own language of groove, longing, shouting, fluid desires for the sake of  finding his own tracks his eager mutable depths he is looking for harbours for his solitude turned into offerings for devotion for the secret wisdom that fills the cracks of night he doesn't deny the intensity of the sweet conversations between the hearing and the touch he hides his violence in sealed wells, in clear visions, in the decimals of knowledge he was a lonely boy full of wonder
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Dec 1, 2022
Dec 1, 2022 at 2:08 PM UTC
he was a lonely boy
My apprehension follows me wherever I go And points out all of the possibilities of everything To a point Where it hurts. As much as I entertain the fact that these possibilities are mutable, But then apprehension whispers in my ear sneering and squeaking like nails against a chalkboard "How about a 10:1" That provoking sentence elicits a tsunami of voices Well-what-ifs and  I-know-buts mostly. The possibilities seem to grow larger and larger as more evidence is provided that in the next moment of my existence any of these thousands of things can happen! Or better yet, they all happen at once! The power outages from this flood leave me in a panic I start to stagger my breathing and sometimes forget to breathe at all. The rain pours down around my eyes and the thunder rolls around my mouth. I no longer have control over this storm that's heading south. And then the storm cools off, breathing naturally comes again And I calm down from an attack of rain And voices in my head. Apprehension needs a break, but they never gets disheartened So they tag along on my back and grasps tightly onto my chest and lungs It's going to be a long walk if I carry this thing around. Again my apprehension is near, But this time it's words "10:1" "There are 10 chances it could go to Hell, and one chance it won't so make your choice." Those screeching words Have made me deaf, I can no longer hear, The world around me. Just that screeching voice 10:1 10:1
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Oct 25, 2016
Oct 25, 2016 at 7:30 PM UTC
10:1
Forgive the Seekers They just have too much Of dancing flame Which turns limp clay of bodies into stone So they stand straight, so that they can Endure the quest. As flies in honey stuck in time They struggle In strait-jacket of seconds They revolt In shackles of duty, fetters called normal life They strive They dream Of glory generous and vast as starry sky To wrap their tired souls The clocks keep ticking ominously fast Time-bombs familiar to all, death overlooked Who hears them but the Seekers, wide awake As soldiers, Incurable ill, And parting lovers. They shed their skins as snakes do every year For us to pick and wonder at, try on and keep – Their books or paintings, Bridges, wars, or songs. They leave them easily and change as infants change, From day to day Who knows them knows Their truth that was, and never what will be And only wind can be their companion As fast, as mutable A wanderer as they As true
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Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 4:52 PM UTC
The Seekers
Sshhh Hear, there be whispers Pitter patter A hush Of a chatter Once or twice A loud groan Light is littered Here and there Darkness has the bigger share flasSH !! SLaashh !! Sudden light– a spark A mutable mark Gone The world shrouded Under deep fog The heavens–cotton crowded It tears Tears tears It nears The scent of life Tears tears Someone hears The sibilant symphony Tears tears Then It clears The sky
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Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 3:12 PM UTC
A Rainy Night
my soul settles when the sky weeps over the world. the rap-rap-rap of the rain against my pane soothes my mind, a balm to any pain. is it the comfort of knowing that nature cries, because if nature cries, surely i can, too? rain gets a bad rap, i think as it rap-rap-raps against my pane, because it is destruciton and relief it razes and raises. mimicking goldilocks and the three bears: too much, too little brings death, but when it's just right. when it's just right, it fosters life why do we equate rain with sadness? pieces of the ocean rap-rap-raping against my pane drops dropping into puddles, pulsating water, the element of change; water, the element of growth; water, the element of life.   push-pulling its surroundings, creeping into places it shouldn't, movable, mutable, implacable. rain, rain, don't go away stay as a reminder that even the tiniest of drops will erode the largest of statues
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Aug 17, 2017
Aug 17, 2017 at 5:00 PM UTC
rain, rain, don't go away
You sort of just abducted my heart. Your desires are daunting. The morose nature, of your overdosing on painkillers, is daunting. You hadn't seemed mutable. The painkillers were nadir to our love, To your love. My bones are brittle. Your self esteem is fragile. My soul is timid. Your thoughts are feral and you bypass its limits. You doubt my fidelity. The wounds are severe. You're a novice lover, but I am too, sort of. So are we neophytes? I'm enthralled in the wonder. Let's not desecrate love, please..
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Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 5:41 PM UTC
Winter of 2012
so shriveled, small at times, yet large on the by & by, a shiny laquer of a shell, the center hollow expands & invades neighboring territories begin to swallow people, experiences, substances, time & money in ever increasingly big gulps consumption without taste never feeling quite full, never feeling totally satisified the boundaries expand & the entrapment ever present begins to instill itself inside my mind & my being the ever mutable sponge, ideas & sentiments only ever ephemeral nothing remains, nothing lasts forever i have no memories turn up the volume, only to render myself deaf, crave that intense color when the world plays out forever in black & white is gray is the goal? feel dead during the day & molt every evening the night & its shade keep the beasts at bay there is no color, there is only an Itch that I can’t seem to scratch but i have no hands & my body is not my own
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Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 11:53 AM UTC
big bang
Another gray, black-eye sunrise, ****** off and insomniac, awake as the earth spins again onward into the mutable mass of gas and plasma. How many of them must there be? The number will rise up into the trillions, they say, as the top continues its turn; dizzying now and incomprehensible. The sun bigger and bigger slowly each time, growing until this small marble is overtook by some dystopian beachballl of fusion and fission, blistering away with such anger; imbalance. Hungover, contemplating ends, I think the bullet may be alright; regarded as painless if aimed well. Imagining split-second blitzkriegs of neural discomfort prior to blackness, I dismiss the thought. The sun is up fully now, stretching. Red giants, they say are cooler than their white counterparts, but larger. All the fights, from the bar to the battlefield. All the love, from the brothel to the bedroom. All the life, progress, movement, everything and nothing; muted by colliding hydrogen particles emitting heat. Is it so terrible to be irrelevant?
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Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 5:13 PM UTC
Zooming Out
*Sit there and watch the power of the moon feel how you are moved by Her your blood at her mercy Watch the tides and learn to surface when it is safe enough to breathe   wax with Her and wane with Her learn to swim with the mutable tides of your existence navigate these hours by Her then see the bounty of the moon spill into your life*
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Dec 26, 2017
Dec 26, 2017 at 9:09 AM UTC
Moonfolk
we never did an ounce of hard work in our life too distracted by television we remain infinitely mutable all our decisions so flexible come quick and watch us change the channels so many other signals we could respond too for you are from another galaxy and all my inhibitions retired early i perform various feats of bravery like stealing butter from your cupboardss while all of my most intrepid acts require the utmost of confidence there are still too many swords here and not enough ice to shave into statues what a pity the way we forgave each other our preferences fortunately these days we are beyond the thickest parts of the fray in this dining room there are several pieces of your brilliance waiting to be eaten until with fingers licked clean you inspect the totality of my being and i suspect we are now ready to recline on the omnivorous spines of our ancestors and blindly worship, the old Mercurius for the great Trickster still rules our souls from within the ancient halls of entertainment that we now pretend to call "a television"
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Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 12:02 PM UTC
your brilliance (tell-a-vision)
I am not your ghost. Swallow my liver like I’m a fire demon and hold it hostage in your mutable citadel. Your hearth is my life is my home is my prison. Don’t expect my bile to turn into diamonds. You should have taken my heart when offered. You could have crushed carbon and soil, resilient and fresh. I might be a meteoroid but I am clever enough to know when I’m being caught or when I’m being torn asunder. Go back and tell me not to find you.
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Sep 5, 2013
Sep 5, 2013 at 9:58 PM UTC
augurer