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"mutedly" poems
Oh the mutedly loud The warmness and romance of the space; Red velvet, Dimmed lights, Set tables, Candlelight,  Waiters in tuxedos. A mingling party. Wine and cheese, Contrast with compliment. I feel as if to walk out the double doors to a sweet scented garden under the stars, with a stone path, sides outlined by glimmering candles.  A night to remember,  For I'm with loved ones  At a unique event.
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Feb 26, 2011
Feb 26, 2011 at 1:55 PM UTC
Cheese and Wine
The wind rises in the courtyard baring extraordinary imaginings faithful oscillations of space time evanescence of life and death always mutedly move side to side the wind rises the whole range of experiences of a flower-like butterfly venturing through the damp and dusty it makes the bronze in the night cry in its reply a rustling sound woke me up its the sycamore castle outside that carries the burden of dawn the tree is just like a book opened birds, insects etc are inserted in the pages i walk into the bones to eavesdrop on the breath of this minute to learn its calmness and indifference towards the coming and going of multifarious clouds.
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Mar 15, 2023
Mar 15, 2023 at 11:00 AM UTC
The wind rises
Some scrawl the names of people present and past Some drench theirs in pearlescent candied nacre Shapes and hues exact, stencilled down to the last Pretty copies of individuality There are those who have it forced upon the face Growing into it, it feels more natural To don that dress, to hit the gym and say grace Becoming the things they are needed to be The flawless surface ever in flux stirs and returns to slumber. Still others, indecisive, searchful, hover From pile to pile, over fractalised discards Picking out their newest favourite cover For their brittle blandness blushed by exposure Mine has grown inwards, claws entrenched beneath skin Reverse quicksand; raking scars old and fresh Valour marks in the battle I cannot win My silence percolates. Outside it accretes It glows in flickers of luciferous fluoroscence, firefly flashes. Hope is but another addiction to break Yet this air hangs heavy, toxic to inhale A frigid gut burn with every breath I take Soulful tremor smothered in despair's cocoon. Fingers roam my jaw. Phantom edges they seek Futility dawns. It has long disappeared As have the haunting echoes of devil-speak I have swallowed it all as it consumed me It changes, chameleon-like, dissolving pixels on a screen. Is it me, or am I it? It matters not Its pulse fills my veins with something close to life Yet I musn't bleed - the fluid does not clot It leaks slowly like a punctured memory Inside nestles the tangle of cobwebbed dreams Silken sojourns unwittingly petrified Quavering mutedly to my stifled screams: You cannot, you shall not, you must not come in!
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Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 11:10 AM UTC
Mask
Some scrawl the names of people present and past Some drench theirs in pearlescent candied nacre Shapes and hues exact, stencilled down to the last Pretty copies of individuality There are those who have it forced upon the face Growing into it, it feels more natural To don that dress, to hit the gym and say grace Becoming the things they are needed to be The flawless surface ever in flux stirs and returns to slumber. Still others, indecisive, searchful, hover From pile to pile, over fractalised discards Picking out their newest favourite cover For their brittle blandness blushed by exposure Mine has grown inwards, claws entrenched beneath skin Reverse quicksand; raking scars old and fresh Valour marks in the battle I cannot win My silence percolates. Outside it accretes It glows in flickers of luciferous fluoroscence, firefly flashes. Hope is but another addiction to break Yet this air hangs heavy, toxic to inhale A frigid gut burn with every breath I take Soulful tremor smothered in despair's cocoon. Fingers roam my jaw. Phantom edges they seek Futility dawns. It has long disappeared As have the haunting echoes of devil-speak I have swallowed it all as it consumed me It changes, chameleon-like, dissolving pixels on a screen. Is it me, or am I it? It matters not Its pulse fills my veins with something close to life Yet I musn't bleed - the fluid does not clot It leaks slowly like a punctured memory Inside nestles the tangle of cobwebbed dreams Silken sojourns unwittingly petrified Quavering mutedly to my stifled screams: You cannot, you shall not, you must not come in!
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Devoured by the warm, doted kiss of the lucent moon, offering bliss I embraced her glow, sensing peace as the night breeze howls, hauling mist We shared the night together, side by side the moon and I forever, with her I may reside amidst the multitude of stars to guide She shine brightly, begetting ocean tide Yet every beauteaous thing has an ending I thought, as we wait the sun to start beaming The sunrise peek on the horizon, gleaming and I part with serene, mutedly mourning
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Aug 8, 2017
Aug 8, 2017 at 2:15 AM UTC
Luna
dampened gravel crunches underfoot as i approach the bank. still, as the ashen valves in my heart, the glassy surface reflects my watery figure. daringly, unhesitantly, i peer. what i see would have forced a shaky breath to escape my throat and form a dispairing cloud in the icy air. but now, what i see does not even allow a flinch. for the pith of my bones was glowing through my raw skin; and my eyes, once slate, had turned an inky obsidian.
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Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 11:38 AM UTC
mutedly coloured