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"naturalism" poems
It was upon the whim of an ancient cataclysm, That brought forth the faith of naturalism. The praying of saints and sinners alike, whether in the grave or still full of life. A judge of true light to be heralded as grand, Receives the effort of an avenging plight. Remember in darkness where the truth lies, as it lies in the beholder's eye. Trick our souls into feeling the withering cause of death. With one last stroke we shall take expel our breath. Break down these barriers and how they exist, Make all divinity crash down with it. What gods may conquer, they shall never control. For the armies of faith and secularism will be in turmoil.
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Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 5:15 AM UTC
What heaven does judge.
With heavy sigh A single leaf falls The first I've caught in the act It slides down my right shoulder Kissing my skin with parched lips 'Save me,' It whispers "No," I sing A single, skittering chipmunk Bounds across the soggy banks Of Lake Fred Unafraid and nearly near enough to touch But keenly and instinctually aware Of my innate barbarism He keeps his distance "Did you see that?" I call to him Pointing to the crumpled leaf beside me "Summer is dying." The chipmunk stops Cranes its neck and twitches its whiskers in consideration And replies 'Of course it is, What else would it do?'
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Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 8:57 AM UTC
I'm No Good at Naturalism (Noctoberiety; Take 2)
Lost in the club on the way to the bathroom American dreamless, existed in a vacuum Every day, another way for us to consume Raids on the senses, a general consensus of the senseless, reprehensible amendments The armaments by the tenements, diffused Confused, never used, lonely in the fugue And you You who assume, presume, eschew the ruin of the brewing times, rising tides, the lies and of ties that bind - us to the times and to meaningless rhymes By illuminated rooms when the eye blinks Think, blink, the pink rink - closed By the hours that be, powers that see Subversive naturalism in a state of debate, compensate the reckless Feckless and dick-less, compost of the senses The sexes have wrecked us, ****** of the spectrum By your septum reset them, mind wiped Iconic lights gone The new light's on Right on
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May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 11:36 AM UTC
The Drifting Away: Of International Relations and Timely Disconnection
It is the supply Receipt of the followings Ecological security, Social and emotional security, and Economic security! These supply are conditional With the followings Passion for naturalism and nature stewardship, Care for humanism, Ready to co-exist with diversity, And minimalism! Total Cost for supply is World with stable equilibrium linking to steady state With additional taxes for negative externalities And subsidy for positive externalities!
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Mar 23, 2020
Mar 23, 2020 at 4:08 AM UTC
Receipt voucher
*Every human has a destined LOVE Same way as every galaxies has a milky way As every star is a sun And every sun has its planets Can we nudge this LOVE Closer to human interactions? Or can we train ourselves To be open to LOVE? Or is it that humans just need procreation? Get to some other place folks Where LOVE doesn't exist Because it's within your choice And power to be open to LOVE You even created GOD... Is it impossible for you To live with naturalism of LOVE?*
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Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 12:13 AM UTC
Naturalism Of LOVE
There was no hope for Dubliner Dedalus: a shift from naturalism into the bizarre Not enough to effuse or diffuse: a hero in the firmest sense
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Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 10:45 AM UTC
There was no hope
scars are a blighted currency. we speak in overstatements, blood capsules and parlor tricks translated villainy romanticizes eras of naturalism our fate in the balance of underwhelming prose and i think i would know cradled curses baby i was born this way you've got to catch up puking emperors exemplify judgment lapses and solidify an irreconcilable clash the study of clinical lycanthropy is just a step above and beyond the underwhelming
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Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 10:09 AM UTC
hi(gh)
Around the landscape, Grass is perfect, made of plastic False flowers bloom year-round The sky is a brilliant cerulean, always The world does not spin, Tilted on it's axis Everyone is perfect, Their faces equivalent to one another There is no love, Nor naturalism Everything is artificially sweetened.
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Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 9:08 PM UTC
Artificial Sweetener
I just want to be honest to not have to create characters settings scenarios walls which can never be scaled I just want to be me but it's hard sometime not on good terms with father time and it feels like I'm never moving fast enough and not moving forward enough I learned about naturalism in tenth grade honors English but it wasn't until I saw my friends the people I love and faces i will never get to remember fall into the trap and I always swore never you Harry you're stronger than that but it seems that my only strength sn self-deception and acceptance My lungs swell and I let out a ****** scream but no sound comes out deep in a thick ocean trench and I never learned how to swim But i think I'm getting stronger I can't beat time in a foot race But I'm going to make it work for this victory my journey means becoming the person I always knew I could be at 12 years old untouched and pure I said hello to poetry and she presented herself to me a grand canyon overflowing with truth and therapeutic readings whatever might happen to me I tell myself every morning You are going to make it
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Feb 17, 2013
Feb 17, 2013 at 3:12 PM UTC
make it
Baby, angel, I have begun growing chamomile on the left side of my mattress: you left it warm enough to grow something as impossible as weeds. And I know I am preferable to the sun at least to you, but what about the moon? There is just something about luna, the moon, lune. Sometimes I want to talk to it the way I would you: moon, oh my stars, I did not believe in naturalism until I believed in you. Baby, angel, we are only embers of what we once were. I heat us up as tea and grow herbs where you once would breathe. Warding off bumblebees by taking their stingers into my paw, the air can hurt us.
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Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 10:52 PM UTC
will you love me forever
Tell me what it is About the trees Dusty grey and gloomy in October That resonates so dearly with a heart Melancholy and somber This rain is soothing Like the soft white I line my walls with A golden haze playing through my veins And flames to match the essence But not the calefaction You can watch me drift into a paralysis effortlessly A debilitation cold and lingering Like lifeless trees awaiting the worst Some sun Does not change the course of nature And I wonder what flavor of future Nature holds for me I feel like the trees In the middle of a foggy autumn afternoon Comfortable And content Living in the shadows of a world Too engulfed in regurgitated highs To contemplate or appreciate struggle A world utterly ignorant to individuals soft spoken and inherently Harmonious in the ways of authenticity And naturalism and realism We have the endurance to undergo lifelong tempests But lack the energy to speed through Trivial phases of Insatiable beauty  Our growth is goddess enough Tell me what it is about the moon Majestic and nostalgically haunting A calming through night's terrors And unforgiving traumas Silver whisps of validation shine into a heart With love looking a little too much like silhouettes An ebony void seeping into the cracks of joy And pain becoming an obvious pattern And the moon is there always Watching the molding in a resentful awe What happened to the life of the young Happiness looking like summer nights And chrismas lights and vintage pop bottles Fading into an uninviting outline Through that type of half reality Half fantasy version of time Months feeling like hours But unrewarding years all the same Childhoods disappearing into insomnia And I'm not very hungry And I don't want anything for my birthday Kind of aloof answers We get it We're all just tired Tell me what it is About the stillness of autumn That induces a numbness in our hearts Watching our desires blow away with the wind One by one They sing their remorse through aeolian howls Uncanny and ghost like Or the early nightfalls That strangely feel more intimate Than our last touch did A type of familiarity rather profound And lacking in any form of resentment Maybe it's the significance in vulnerability The stripping away of irrelevant priorities To see the real To see the roots Tell me what is is About the trees Dusty grey and gloomy in October That soothes a tired soul A vagabond in search for more And a heart a little too in love with loss
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May 31, 2020
May 31, 2020 at 2:21 AM UTC
October somber & melancholy
Tell me what it is About the trees Dusty grey and gloomy in October That resonates so dearly with a heart Melancholy and somber This rain is soothing Like the soft white I line my walls with A golden haze playing through my veins And flames to match the essence But not the calefaction You can watch me drift into a paralysis effortlessly A debilitation cold and lingering Like lifeless trees awaiting the worst Some sun Does not change the course of nature And I wonder what flavor of future Nature holds for me I feel like the trees In the middle of a foggy autumn afternoon Comfortable And content Living in the shadows of a world Too engulfed in regurgitated highs To contemplate or appreciate struggle A world utterly ignorant to individuals soft spoken and inherently Harmonious in the ways of authenticity And naturalism and realism We have the endurance to undergo lifelong tempests But lack the energy to speed through Trivial phases of Insatiable beauty  Our growth is goddess enough Tell me what it is about the moon Majestic and nostalgically haunting A calming through night's terrors And unforgiving traumas Silver whisps of validation shine into a heart With love looking a little too much like silhouettes An ebony void seeping into the cracks of joy And pain becoming an obvious pattern And the moon is there always Watching the molding in a resentful awe What happened to the life of the young Happiness looking like summer nights And chrismas lights and vintage pop bottles Fading into an uninviting outline Through that type of half reality Half fantasy version of time Months feeling like hours But unrewarding years all the same Childhoods disappearing into insomnia And I'm not very hungry And I don't want anything for my birthday Kind of aloof answers We get it We're all just tired Tell me what it is About the stillness of autumn That induces a numbness in our hearts Watching our desires blow away with the wind One by one They sing their remorse through aeolian howls Uncanny and ghost like Or the early nightfalls That strangely feel more intimate Than our last touch did A type of familiarity rather profound And lacking in any form of resentment Maybe it's the significance in vulnerability The stripping away of irrelevant priorities To see the real To see the roots Tell me what is is About the trees Dusty grey and gloomy in October That soothes a tired soul A vagabond in search for more And a heart a little too in love with loss
Continue reading...
77
Sick of the world listen to the hearts of the boys and girls Innocents souls being tested manifested and rejected To naturalism I break the sentences in the prison Wake up world you see they love to keep ya mind in a swirl Got women playin' men vice versa I'm finna reverse tha Wickedness ya see on TV is all a fantasy Believe this  believe that think for ya instead of helpin' ya They wanna see ya fall to ya knees knock on Congress door for some government cheese they separatin' homes putting poison to our domes all alone I look at the cyclone It's a ball of confusion Trump is a savior to past time evil behavior Involvin' KKKs I'm packin' AKs its Black Panthers way everyday Causing tension without lynchin' Their own necks they say there a threat but force is invisible I see the miserable lies they sold the same routine is gettin' old Change is good thing but turns into a bad thing If you looked at the chaos ring Rise of taxes tilted the world axis poison food puttin' spirituality in a bad mood Makin' an asexual society quietly rages a unbalance energy Women holding they ******* in? Scared *** of a biblical sin that written back when Emperor's of Rome stay with young men in war in exchange for chump change only to die in war families left in sore More dead men equals more women whorin' for sure Don't take out on me cuz I see the same list And goes on and on americas claim they beautiful But souls ugly and pitiful scream peace but press for war mad at Israel cuz they coming to even the score for sure I'm Malcolm and Che mixed into one asè trust their gonna be a change either way til the day The day that I die I'm keep exposing all the hidden lies never had a half closed third eye embracin' my energy matter from the universe The black hole feeding my draconian soul
0
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 7:36 AM UTC
List Goes On...
Sick of the world listen to the hearts of the boys and girls Innocents souls being tested manifested and rejected To naturalism I break the sentences in the prison Wake up world you see they love to keep ya mind in a swirl Got women playin' men vice versa I'm finna reverse tha Wickedness ya see on TV is all a fantasy Believe this  believe that think for ya instead of helpin' ya They wanna see ya fall to ya knees knock on Congress door for some government cheese they separatin' homes putting poison to our domes all alone I look at the cyclone It's a ball of confusion Trump is a savior to past time evil behavior Involvin' KKKs I'm packin' AKs its Black Panthers way everyday Causing tension without lynchin' Their own necks they say there a threat but force is invisible I see the miserable lies they sold the same routine is gettin' old Change is good thing but turns into a bad thing If you looked at the chaos ring Rise of taxes tilted the world axis poison food puttin' spirituality in a bad mood Makin' an asexual society quietly rages a unbalance energy Women holding they ******* in? Scared *** of a biblical sin that written back when Emperor's of Rome stay with young men in war in exchange for chump change only to die in war families left in sore More dead men equals more women whorin' for sure Don't take out on me cuz I see the same list And goes on and on americas claim they beautiful But souls ugly and pitiful scream peace but press for war mad at Israel cuz they coming to even the score for sure I'm Malcolm and Che mixed into one asè trust their gonna be a change either way til the day The day that I die I'm keep exposing all the hidden lies never had a half closed third eye embracin' my energy matter from the universe The black hole feeding my draconian soul
Continue reading...
26
Wanted to start with an honest take On T.S. Eliot's fulmination towards criticisms Regarding the debater, Mr. Grierson's Point of view on metaphysical writings In purview of genuine poetic dissertation and discussion Presentation of the nuances of poems are intriguing Wherewithal that there is a diligent approach taken To study John Donne and Cowley Marvell, one  of the social upheavilists Of this time t'was real t'was true to naturalism However, Goethe points out " in their unnaturalism they poised on naturalism" There is a lot to say for Mr. Eliot's debate Not too much for Mr. Grierson's review of some good old fashioned Amorous verse, inasmuch it bewitches the languid sensuality Often the purer and fairer opposite *** Through genuine use of wit and impressive stoicism A thoroughly metaphorical use of the term "stoic" Can be attributed to the use of complex imagery It would be interesting if one drew parallels On the concepts of love and spirituality It is expressed in reading that deals with rapid association of thought English language canon and poetic implication are there, of course Basically, what the poet is trying to say and the implicit understanding Between a lover and a mistress One could say it is a conversation or a nuanced conversation Between the reader and poet Such is the metaphysics of women and their love for genuine metaphor It is often the velleity of the poet to write in such esoteric language Therefore, one could understand the heterogeneous ideas potrayed In each poetic verse of Donne's repertoire cannot be Misconstrued as unnecessarily analytic Almost like the dissection of a patient in surgery The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts
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Mar 2, 2020
Mar 2, 2020 at 7:17 PM UTC
Essay (Metaphysical Poetry)
Wanted to start with an honest take On T.S. Eliot's fulmination towards criticisms Regarding the debater, Mr. Grierson's Point of view on metaphysical writings In purview of genuine poetic dissertation and discussion Presentation of the nuances of poems are intriguing Wherewithal that there is a diligent approach taken To study John Donne and Cowley Marvell, one  of the social upheavilists Of this time t'was real t'was true to naturalism However, Goethe points out " in their unnaturalism they poised on naturalism" There is a lot to say for Mr. Eliot's debate Not too much for Mr. Grierson's review of some good old fashioned Amorous verse, inasmuch it bewitches the languid sensuality Often the purer and fairer opposite *** Through genuine use of wit and impressive stoicism A thoroughly metaphorical use of the term "stoic" Can be attributed to the use of complex imagery It would be interesting if one drew parallels On the concepts of love and spirituality It is expressed in reading that deals with rapid association of thought English language canon and poetic implication are there, of course Basically, what the poet is trying to say and the implicit understanding Between a lover and a mistress One could say it is a conversation or a nuanced conversation Between the reader and poet Such is the metaphysics of women and their love for genuine metaphor It is often the velleity of the poet to write in such esoteric language Therefore, one could understand the heterogeneous ideas potrayed In each poetic verse of Donne's repertoire cannot be Misconstrued as unnecessarily analytic Almost like the dissection of a patient in surgery The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts
Continue reading...
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