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"onrush" poems
I can’t come to you for my pain in the throat But I can for the pain in my soul. Perception is your prescription Somehow I took too many dose My pore my nostrils Inflated with the onrush of ecstasy It’s mistaken, Curiosity should be the cure.
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Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 12:44 PM UTC
Doctor
It wasn't love at first sight. It was the opposite. It was slowly and beautiful. Like a sun rising in between two mountains or a flower slowly opening itself to the world. I don't know when it happened, but with every tired sighs, blinking of eyes, and all the moments in between, I let the waves take me further to where you were. Suddenly, being alone was something I could not remember. Oh and my hands? They have always held a book or a pen, but they now crave for your hands instead. And I don't know why, but whenever you're not here, I can still smell your perfume and I can't help but look for you in the room. Whenever people ask me what my favorite color was, I would say "Pink", but when I saw your eyes, it has been my favorite ever since. It wasn't love at first sight. It was something I witnessed unravel before me. It was you. And like slow sunsets and blooming flowers, my heart swelled at the onrush of the scenery.
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Nov 1, 2016
Nov 1, 2016 at 9:50 PM UTC
it wasn't love at first sight
The passion released in the medley of intrigue Flows restoring as an onrush of air Deeply inhaled as a kiss of aching persuasion Gently arresting the heart waiting there A resonant fascination mesmerizes the pulsation Tempting the acceleration to exceed The natural precision, which is known to maintain A rush of harmony, as the heart beats There are some who will emphatically attempt to deny This medley of delightful intrigue exists As they have never inhaled, the passion released By the aching persuasion of the kiss If your heart has never felt this deep fascination A swift acceleration that rises above The natural precision, the heart's known to maintain Then you have never, truly been in love
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Jul 18, 2010
Jul 18, 2010 at 6:56 PM UTC
Medley of Intrigue
Here we are again, in the deathmask of the city spinning. The circumcised sea with its crocodiles and scars. Never is the onrush of blood so violent the falsehoods of the sky that drip neon on our heads from desiccated clouds so true This is the wild: To the clusterfucked and cloistered swimming in their bowls of soup and the scuttled shells synchronous in their bass pulse beeping to the blackhats who don’t believe their messiah will ever come because they hear the trump of doom every second of every day yet they still stomp in their flatbeds for joy and the prismatic dead who drag themselves from their gurneys to march through the alleys like tuskless elephants shoving their fingers into the sun’s fumarole determined to disintegrate into a mist of Krylon and copper where we carry our concrete world slung over our shoulders and the ravenous moon in its ellipse above beached night heaving, eyes curling in their sockets like gunsmoke smoldering hearts humming like taut snares beheaded fish in front of us, beheaded bodies behind us I drag mine along by the hair. To the children and the panhandlers who greet the lion like hello kitty and the skittish magnetic few in their lightning-spaded furrows on the ecliptic chained but leaping ever farther and higher like the wrecking ***** pendulum and all the naked lost milling among the mummified tenements, waving Geiger counters before them as they wander  the sweaty street holding their heads high as they grind flesh against flesh pulverizing themselves into rubble measuring the toll of time by destruction   drinking in mercury and hard water and shrapnel and gamma and fire and gold to them I say: turn your hourglass on its side turn your hourglasses on their sides then acknowledge me so I can die in peace.
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Dec 15, 2011
Dec 15, 2011 at 4:35 PM UTC
Infinity
Here we are again, in the deathmask of the city spinning. The circumcised sea with its crocodiles and scars. Never is the onrush of blood so violent the falsehoods of the sky that drip neon on our heads from desiccated clouds so true This is the wild: To the clusterfucked and cloistered swimming in their bowls of soup and the scuttled shells synchronous in their bass pulse beeping to the blackhats who don’t believe their messiah will ever come because they hear the trump of doom every second of every day yet they still stomp in their flatbeds for joy and the prismatic dead who drag themselves from their gurneys to march through the alleys like tuskless elephants shoving their fingers into the sun’s fumarole determined to disintegrate into a mist of Krylon and copper where we carry our concrete world slung over our shoulders and the ravenous moon in its ellipse above beached night heaving, eyes curling in their sockets like gunsmoke smoldering hearts humming like taut snares beheaded fish in front of us, beheaded bodies behind us I drag mine along by the hair. To the children and the panhandlers who greet the lion like hello kitty and the skittish magnetic few in their lightning-spaded furrows on the ecliptic chained but leaping ever farther and higher like the wrecking ***** pendulum and all the naked lost milling among the mummified tenements, waving Geiger counters before them as they wander  the sweaty street holding their heads high as they grind flesh against flesh pulverizing themselves into rubble measuring the toll of time by destruction   drinking in mercury and hard water and shrapnel and gamma and fire and gold to them I say: turn your hourglass on its side turn your hourglasses on their sides then acknowledge me so I can die in peace.
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43
The strings were pulled of a bitter signal Erratically hateful in their draw Commencing the judgment of her mental state As a bloodthirsty crowd looked on in awe All her pleading notations were met with objection By all their unfeeling eyes Who merely wished to bear witness to the surrender Of sanity and to see its quiet demise Suddenly without warning an onrush of light Blinded the probing eyes of the crowd A curve of great decision was suspended in space As they began to read her crimes aloud Guilty as charged a voice rang out from the light For moving against the grain For not following behind the shadow of others She is guilty, she must be insane Completely unnatural, no control of her faculties She cannot possibly be competent, the voice loudly rang Daring to be optimistic in the face of grievous pain She holds no resentment, she must be insane Her sentence was pronounced for the entire crowd to hear Claiming her incompetent and unfit All the eyes in the crowd remain blinded by the light Yet she doesn’t mind at all as she smiles and sits She smiles into the faces of the blinded crowd Knowing she has not changed a bit ****** she may be to the unfeeling eyes of the blind However, they can never take her own happiness
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Jul 30, 2010
Jul 30, 2010 at 6:13 AM UTC
Against the Grain
On the breath of sighs I seek to be reborn into the warmth Of love sated in the glimmer Of whispers sweeping away the years. On the breath of sighs I touch the tenderest part of you, Sheltered in a heart Whose beats divide the onrush of worry From the hand that moves within-- And hope that is enough. In this breath, this momentary pause, Can we make enough room To find each other Again And again. Copyright/All Rights Reserved Audrey Howitt 2011
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Sep 18, 2011
Sep 18, 2011 at 7:07 PM UTC
On The Breath of Sighs
An amber glow softly visits your face as the new evening washes in To bathe you in a new light so fair While distinctive patterns of the lovely day’s end Are dancing through the highlights in your hair An onrush of divine sensation lights in your eyes the day has ended in glee You smile as you watch the sun leave its place Over the edge of the glorious sea A fresh faced moon illuminates the air a million stars dance in the moon’s glow A bright new world finds a home In the depths of your delighted soul
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Jun 12, 2010
Jun 12, 2010 at 3:58 AM UTC
Day's End
sam i yam not, nor will this 'lo bot go away cuz, every coordinate in cyber space allows, enables and provides an opportunity to bray, and thence get access to each excel lent power full point one among the beguiling bajillion, thus this ming boggling concept proffers (even the generic mom and pop hacker tubby in her/his element field gloating as if they won the Irish Sweepstakes that day despite neither could claim direct lineage, sans Emerald Eire analogous to Celtic temptress, whose grand geography beckons toward entranceway, where sensory, levity, and ecstasy punctuate foray boot that diverges one hundred and eighty degrees asper gateway onrush of spam enters electronic hatchway spilling forth like offal horrific bilge interlay sloshing violently, revoltingly, and nauseatingly, witnessing a jay bird donning mask (yule hating) beak coming contrivance fashioned keyway. force full brainstorm to firewall to place on indefinite layaway inundation of spam midway between now and eternity, essentially noway no more, and if necessary hermetically seal myself stationing a pal in drone willingly overpay!
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Mar 24, 2018
Mar 24, 2018 at 1:22 AM UTC
where in tarnation doth spam arise?
The sweetest breath of morning has quickly stolen into view Such a lovely way to bring in the start of day When morning breaks into your sleep with the softest moves That rushes in and takes your breath away The softest moves escalate into a frenzied touch of wonder As the morning light touches upon your face Your world of sleep so swiftly leaves its place of rest To keep in stride with this onrush of pace An atmosphere of stillness breaks as the wonder rushes in Sweetly filling every open crevice in your soul A dreamlike state while wide awake floods onto your skin As the intensity of the moment takes control Now who could ever say in truth and truly be alive This is no way to bring the morning’s glory in To awake and look into the eyes of the one you love And feel the softest moves of wonder once again
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Jun 14, 2010
Jun 14, 2010 at 4:42 PM UTC
Moves of Wonder
Eight of us A train And the blinding light of stars For that moment As we laid together under the sky Shoulder against shoulder And watched as the blinding light inched towards us Waiting for the onrush of wind The split second of weightlessness And a sign that this is where we needed to be
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Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 2:38 PM UTC
eight kids and a train
Why? Everything has a reason, you need just to recognize it, and to do it the journey's long, but I'll get there. I'll found my answers, I'll discover them in my onrush, in my guide, I'll find my sake of living And thereupon I'll live, I will continue to live and to expect. Because a man, without the hope is not a man.
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Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 4:04 AM UTC
Why?
You want so desperately to believe that this so carefully ruled white line fresh as ****** snow pure against the silver browning to the lighter’s flame this first ignited onrush of confidence emboldening you with the awakening you dream of will open up take you into a land where you will be the ruler but here is the base line it will ultimately lay bare emptiness a white yet colourless sterile salt desert of numbness and you will seek that white line forever more
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Feb 17, 2022
Feb 17, 2022 at 2:50 PM UTC
White line
When you are reading a book And in the midst Of a great chapter You feel a tug on your chest And suddenly You are there Living that book And you are exhilarated When that character jumps off a cliff Or takes down the bad guy And you can feel the sudden wind The onrush of emotions Tingling in your soul But then Right as the character makes a last stand You hear “TIME FOR DINNER!” And you close the book Realizing that you are here Not in that book And you head downstairs For dinner But after dinner That book will be waiting For you to pick it up And finish that chapter
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Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 5:33 PM UTC
I Love Books
Your touch is gentle Yet, I tremble You make me blush But, the onrush of my past becomes equal My mind outcasts your good intentions Your charm could win masses But, the harness of my fear provokes alarms My mind is a dangerous weapon that I only use on myself Which throws spears into my brain Please, come in Break down my walls Make yourself at home Take my pain away with your love Drive through this rough terrain called life Revive me As I nose-dive into your love.
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Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 11:37 PM UTC
Charmed