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"ose" poems
Junoon Kanha Ab pehle ki tarah Abhi na hosh raha Aur wajah bhi jeene ki jaise Dheere dheere khatam Hoti ja Rahi hai Bewajah ya phir wajah Daru Pita hu nukkad nukkad me Aur dhoondta hu ek theekana Janha Noor Bhari pyaar hi pyaar ** . .. Aur na Milne par Phir se Sharaab e gulab Me Nazar Aur... Sharaab Ko hi Humsafar ki tarah ghulta doobta ...ek yaad me Chun Liya ** jaise... Har waqt Har lamha Khyaal e khwaab me Aur chamakta Sitara Ko tootte hue dekha Toh phir ek mehfil Aur khyaal wohi puraane din ke Aur aaj bhi yaad karu Toh Lage naye jaise taaza gulaab e nasha ... Aur Ishq Bhari woh aankhein Kudrat ka karishma ** jaise .. Aankh khuli Par Raha toh mein bas ek sharaabi Yaadein aur woh neele neele amber Aur oska Chand ki taraf  dekhna . Aur mein niharta ose Chandni raaton me Chand se bhi jaida khubsurat Ose dekhta mein Haqeeqat me ... ... ... Aur phir ek kaanch ki bottle tooti mere haathon me Khyaal aaya Ki Ab mein osse bahot dur ** Chuka hu ...bahot dur... Aur Ishq jaise... Najane aankhon me kaed Aaskhq e beedi Khud Ko jalata aur . . . Kitni bhi koshish Karu Par oska chehra Nazar aa hi jata .. ... . .
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Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 6:14 PM UTC
Deewangi e rang e sharaab ...pita hu mein, Haan mein sharaab!!!
Teach me, if thou can-forgetfulness! Teach me how to forget thee, for I ain't worthy of these feelings. I am undeserving of thy love-for I can only dwell in and cherish it- I cannot give thee yon pleasure, my love. Pleasure- and its affectionate satisfaction-t'ose two-o but amusements, the ones whom thou so dearly adore- are but a sin to me, a sin so brief and beautiful but even more ungrateful then the unblinking foliage-into which I am unwilling to sink. Aye, forgetfulness shall be a mercy to me. For in such idiocy have I dreamed-dreamed of being in thy lovely arms, absorbed in the mist of thy charms. But I can never be so! Even dreaming shall I be refrained from-I can never hug thee-even in my deepest tempestuous fears. Thou are t'at bizarre light that roam the stones of my pernicious dreams. But Thou despiseth me- how thou hate me, thou who shall never glance back in my last breath, thou who but condemn me-I, should t'is world be altered, shall still remain thy sudden wound; I am but a flawed work of insulting wretchedness. Then teach me- teach me, my love, invade my heart-and grasp my veins, rob my of my dearly, dearly affection- for thee, yes, which was born only for thee- and leave me loveless, just as no-one flatters me and endorse my feelings, in t'is very loneliness.
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Jan 9, 2013
Jan 9, 2013 at 6:13 PM UTC
Love's Last Lesson
I am bruising over and over, my hands underneath the sapphire fire they turn scarlet not livid like my skin, deep blue upon touch. I dream of ghosts on lustrous seas, spirits that see the endless ends of this and how vapour fades to return to the ruins. Light, she dances on crystals only because inside it is cold, colder than bitter winters I have not seen. Teach me how to lie awake in sleepless quiet, glittering with answers. Teach me how to burn like a comet before their great fall.
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Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 1:36 PM UTC
Comet(ose)
Shayad mujhe pata tha Phir me mein itna tanha the Raat ki gehraiyon me Dil jalta Raha tha Shayad mujhe pata tha Jaan ke bhi Anjaan bana mein Pagal deewana mushafir bana mein Dheere dheere aasmaan e kaashish Chubhne Laga pyaala e Nazar Ab dekhta hu ose mein Apni yaadon e aankhon se... Aur osko na thi khabar Shayad mujhe pata tha... Shayad mujhe pata tha...
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Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 2:03 PM UTC
Shayad mujhe pata tha...
Those unchained melodies are heard- slayed and naked, like a lost soul- wand'ring along a village; a dejected village! And hark, hark to how they plead! O, how they beg to be alive, to be free from the deadness of these winds. But no-one greets them, with a handful of care!-how ill, and thievery is, such inattentiveness! What a smug egotism!-For these areth living creatures, not lurking shadows as they'th seemed! Blackened willows, stiffened dust; trembling trees, affronted branches- bending in their nakedness, a scene of vulgarity with no ******* and sensations- to capture attention, o, am'rous attention! How poor these humans are! Brutes are they to natureth-dappled with disgrace, insincerely prayin' for more and more to feed their ungrateful innuendoes-which prey on their mortality-to fascinate their tongue, and ***** And elements with no such marks are out of them, no thinking is set on them; no moreth! Peek, peek now, at how those bountiful thorns blureth, and dieth!-at the scorn and rivalry amongst humans-and still no-one bothers kindethly-to eventh peek at 'em, yon miserable, pitiful creatures! But 'ose humans, whose spitefulness is awayth from b'ing praiseworthy, are aboundth with death; cannot they defy it, inescapable as it's always been-for death is not destined to dieth-never! Thus thy sins, humans, wilt swing thy joys into swamps of guilt, denial, and suffrage-be unafraid of which, straighten thy chins-for these are all what thou'th deserved, all along! Thou'th betrayed nature, and now thy souls wilt be thy subtlest enemy-thy veiled threat!- beware of 'tis, but still perchance, it is futile to exhort thee-now and again! Thou art stained with remorse, and prefereth doth thou-to follow thy own course, rather than nature's bliss's vows.
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Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 6:39 PM UTC
Unchained Melodies
Those unchained melodies are heard- slayed and naked, like a lost soul- wand'ring along a village; a dejected village! And hark, hark to how they plead! O, how they beg to be alive, to be free from the deadness of these winds. But no-one greets them, with a handful of care!-how ill, and thievery is, such inattentiveness! What a smug egotism!-For these areth living creatures, not lurking shadows as they'th seemed! Blackened willows, stiffened dust; trembling trees, affronted branches- bending in their nakedness, a scene of vulgarity with no ******* and sensations- to capture attention, o, am'rous attention! How poor these humans are! Brutes are they to natureth-dappled with disgrace, insincerely prayin' for more and more to feed their ungrateful innuendoes-which prey on their mortality-to fascinate their tongue, and ***** And elements with no such marks are out of them, no thinking is set on them; no moreth! Peek, peek now, at how those bountiful thorns blureth, and dieth!-at the scorn and rivalry amongst humans-and still no-one bothers kindethly-to eventh peek at 'em, yon miserable, pitiful creatures! But 'ose humans, whose spitefulness is awayth from b'ing praiseworthy, are aboundth with death; cannot they defy it, inescapable as it's always been-for death is not destined to dieth-never! Thus thy sins, humans, wilt swing thy joys into swamps of guilt, denial, and suffrage-be unafraid of which, straighten thy chins-for these are all what thou'th deserved, all along! Thou'th betrayed nature, and now thy souls wilt be thy subtlest enemy-thy veiled threat!- beware of 'tis, but still perchance, it is futile to exhort thee-now and again! Thou art stained with remorse, and prefereth doth thou-to follow thy own course, rather than nature's bliss's vows.
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40
you wear your ulterior motives around your neck like a no ose or a beaded choker you know you have weird style yo u don't need reminding its not supposed to hurt when **** boys with high libidos take and break but you've got eyes that remind them who's in control they think you're ***** y and whatever you totally are it's okay to howl at the mo on every once in awhile they'll make you want to slide into a sinkhole or be swallowed in the soft wet soil but you've got a hidden agenda for when you smile the sun shines bri ght no one can deny a witch like you when you sing for ma ma earth your soft skin makes plants grow what's a minor heartbreak when a tsunami could wash away an entire vill age at least you have patience
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Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 12:06 PM UTC
teen witch
Esu Lanlu Esu Elegbara Esu Odara Esu, the scared child of heaven Esu, a reviled, respected, Yet misunderstood being. Esu, all creations dance to your best of life Esu Dagunro Esu Lukuluku Esu Apagbe Esu, the quickest and fastest one Esu, confuser of many Esu, the disruptor of order Esu, the iconic one Esu, the master of linguistics Esu, the conciliatory peacemaker Esu, the divine alchemist Esu, the trickster Esu, the pusher of those, Who doesn't carry Olodumare's wishes. Esu, the inseparable friend of Orunmila Esu, Papa Legba Legba Atibon Kalfou Papa La Bas Esu, divine messenger of transformation Esu, ebora to luti la nbo Esu, Okunrin ori ita Esu, a quick responder when consulted Esu, divine messenger of the gods Esu Odara, the divine one of Ose Otura Esu, carrier of the ase of sensuality and fertility Esu Lanlu, king of dance Esu, keeper and imparter of ase Esu, the fundamental Orisa Esu, the manifest of greatness Esu, the one who is as hard as Rock Esu Akeregbaye Esu, the shedder of blood who knows no one's tears Esu, the controller of earth Esu, the special middle man between heaven and Earth Esu, the anointed rope to success and wealth Esu Lanlu Esu Elegbara Esu Odara Written by Tosan Oluwakemi Thompson
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Jul 6, 2020
Jul 6, 2020 at 8:18 AM UTC
Esu
O but tainted thou wert with grief, as a thunder entrapped thy leaf. In t'is corner doth I just weep- as canst I afford no more sleep. Like a songbird t'at leaveth its nest; canst I not put myself to rest. Ah, without th' tunes of thy sound feet- t'ese rainbows sooneth begineth to fleet! How could my pleasure nature cheat! Trembling wasth I, with gentle wit! As I dressed up for thee back then; and combed my black hair by pale hand. But thou wert just nowhere to find! Ah! T'at evilness which made thee blind! Its vicious trap hath left thee bare; in yon bland middle of nowhere! I longed to greet and console thee; as thou sang loud and sat by me! Burying thee in my ***** Lent thee kisses 'till thou felt warm! And coaxed thee as thou laughed out free- with sparks of gentle flattery! Ah! Thy eyes full of sheer mystery, black and as deep as harmony. And whispereth would I to thy ear- t'at I love thee more every day. T'ere would we lay gladly so near- with passions t'at never decay. Ah! How t'ose phantoms now lurk away! But why still hath I noneth to say?- Th' moment I frequent'd thy den; Thou wert still not seen safe back then! Thin wasth th' vapoured grass outside; with clips of smile astretched wide! But canst I only sob in dire gloom; with red lights crowding in my room. O, I miss thee now-I want thee now! But to meet thee I can't see how- Thy by her charms, and in her arms- t'at harlot that canst feign thy warmth! Ah, t'is imprisonment I cherish For some time it might bringst me bliss! But still it's thy portrait I kiss- which I pursued by secret wish! Love, bestoweth t'is chance on me once more! To sweet-talk with thee like afore- just as though there's no tomorrow; meet me downstairs when no-one shows! And t'is poem I compose in blue; with despair in my lonely heart. To assureth me t'at thou be true, and we shalt never be apart! O, it's thee t'at I yearn for, my love; like th' stars to th' moon above. And hail I t'ese complications- as wings to our destinations.
0
Feb 17, 2013
Feb 17, 2013 at 5:48 PM UTC
Complications
O but tainted thou wert with grief, as a thunder entrapped thy leaf. In t'is corner doth I just weep- as canst I afford no more sleep. Like a songbird t'at leaveth its nest; canst I not put myself to rest. Ah, without th' tunes of thy sound feet- t'ese rainbows sooneth begineth to fleet! How could my pleasure nature cheat! Trembling wasth I, with gentle wit! As I dressed up for thee back then; and combed my black hair by pale hand. But thou wert just nowhere to find! Ah! T'at evilness which made thee blind! Its vicious trap hath left thee bare; in yon bland middle of nowhere! I longed to greet and console thee; as thou sang loud and sat by me! Burying thee in my ***** Lent thee kisses 'till thou felt warm! And coaxed thee as thou laughed out free- with sparks of gentle flattery! Ah! Thy eyes full of sheer mystery, black and as deep as harmony. And whispereth would I to thy ear- t'at I love thee more every day. T'ere would we lay gladly so near- with passions t'at never decay. Ah! How t'ose phantoms now lurk away! But why still hath I noneth to say?- Th' moment I frequent'd thy den; Thou wert still not seen safe back then! Thin wasth th' vapoured grass outside; with clips of smile astretched wide! But canst I only sob in dire gloom; with red lights crowding in my room. O, I miss thee now-I want thee now! But to meet thee I can't see how- Thy by her charms, and in her arms- t'at harlot that canst feign thy warmth! Ah, t'is imprisonment I cherish For some time it might bringst me bliss! But still it's thy portrait I kiss- which I pursued by secret wish! Love, bestoweth t'is chance on me once more! To sweet-talk with thee like afore- just as though there's no tomorrow; meet me downstairs when no-one shows! And t'is poem I compose in blue; with despair in my lonely heart. To assureth me t'at thou be true, and we shalt never be apart! O, it's thee t'at I yearn for, my love; like th' stars to th' moon above. And hail I t'ese complications- as wings to our destinations.
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56
All my life I wanted that special someone. Someone who loves me Very  much, for who I am. I am so glad I found that person. He's there for me Everyday and Night. If we don't see each other, it's on the phone or text. Gone for a week or two to my sister's doesn't Even change a thing we still talk. That's our biggest strength. Depends on the day, but we always try to talk it out. <3 So I would like to say, I found my soul-mate, Even though we are "prefect" (whatever that means) for each other and we love each other Very much, my soul-mate can still be out there. Everyday you can continue to search, but here and Now, in reality, will you ever find your soul-mate? When you Find someone special and you know their not your soul-mate Of course you have to make the best of it because you may Lose it and never find another one again or your soul-mate. Don't give up is what I'm saying, but don't get caught up in finding someone you may never find.
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Aug 10, 2010
Aug 10, 2010 at 12:45 PM UTC
AVENGED SEVENFOLD
I will not write again of you the way I used to do you've swallowed up enough of me to last you many moons and if you try to find me in the places you will go you'll only test your memory against a single soul it used to be so easy to get lost inside your head I found so little meaning in the words you never said it must've been subconsciousness that let me see it all unraveled my surroundings so there wouldn't be a wall I think it was a fever that caused both of us to burn ignited by a dreamer and a sleepy little girl I've wanted you forever said the maker of the dream until you have returned to me I cannot fall asleep I shake as all my weakness leads my body to your door but I can't lose a battle I'm not fighting anymore so back to the recoil, hesitation has an end I'll always be as close to you as I have ever been
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Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 8:22 PM UTC
Recoil, ignite
A girl who is hoping to be with me, Theming all her poetry around me, Unable I am to reflect her feelings, Lose I did myself in my past lover. Love her I did that bit too much, Of her decisions I was an abider, Vainly are all the sacrifices I made, Except only when unavoidable, Did I ever ignore her? I did not. Killed me she with her love and deceit, Remain just the memories of her, I let my mind linger in past, Pleasured I am by her memories, I just cannot once again take chances. And I will just live with her memories, Not that I consider myself so worse, Desist I will from marriage all my life. I am so scared of loving anyone else, Slowly I watch my days running out. Now I will never be uncertain, Of course I would be sans fear, What scares me would be past. Scientist I want to become for real, Concentrate I will more on career, And her memories won't plague, Romance I will with myself more, Elephantine will be my happiness, Dress rehearsals I do for success. Old memories will not haunt me, Finally I'll be one with happiness. Last desire of my heart, Of course won't be fullfilled, Very sure because I am lonely, Enjoy I'll this eternal loneliness.
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Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 4:27 AM UTC
Sorry Kalpana Arora
I replay it in my head L osing our temper O verthinking V iolent words E xaggerations Y ou walked O ut the door U ncivilly S till, I wait T omorrow you might come back I leave the door unlocked L isten to our song L et it play over and over again I pour another glass A llowing myself to L ose my mind W ondering A pologizing to myself Y our voice in my ears S uffocating my thoughts W ould it have ended differently I f I had let you win L et go of my pride L ooks like we'll never know - p. winter
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Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 8:51 PM UTC
I Love You Still, I Always Will
Morn hath come, and I rushest out of my bed; I washest my hands, and striketh my fingers wet; I cleaneth out dust, which keepest falling from 'em stilll; I greetest lone dew, clouds, and yon usual mornin' shrill; I washest my face, and ponderest over Thy Grace; I soaketh my lips, and saith Thy love verses; Verses of love, my florid comfort and solace; Best of wonders, justice, and solar miracles; I slideth hastily into my white gown; For dawn hath come, and greeted me when alone; Night hath but been a dream and a tiny song; With chords unreal, and words t'at were not long; When winds are gurgling and my fantasy is torn; I still wantest to think but of Thee alone; The verses of love t'at hath long been gone; Leaving me deathlike, and breathless on my own; My blood is again thirsting for Thy love; Whose enemy hath been dishonest all t'ese years; When I boweth to th' floor and looketh again at Thee above; Within my chaste gown, I recalleth my prudent inward tears; Tears t'at hath never real faded, nor waned; Tears t'at hath hitherto kept me all sane; Thy verses of love made me once more feel loved; And healed my congested soul t'at was sorely halved; Within my heart dwelleth but one lump of scars; But all t'ese years I'th known Thou art ne'er t'at far; With Thee only, my past regrets might just seemeth fatuous; My whining heart cometh relieved, and my virtues turneth joyous; Ah, Thee, Lord of th' Worlds and of nights and days; Ah, Thee, Whose verses are prettier than what we hear; Ah, Thee, Whose Light is tenderer than any poems I might say; Ah, Thee, Who ruleth but alive and always stayeth here; Ah, Thee, Who engendered earth, hell, and heaven; Ah, Thee, Who tamest wild souls, and enlightenest the chosen; Ah, Thee, under Whom enemies canst be our best friends; Ah, Thee, under Whom misery canst be glad, and hearts are patient; Ah, Thee, by Whom an infant shall healthily grow; Ah, Thee, by Whom days shall fade, and be braced for tomorrow; Ah, Thee, by Whom th' luminous shall win and as ever glow; Ah, Thee, Who always listeneth and heareth and ceaseth not to know; I praiseth Thee and Thee only with joy; I claimeth my blessings and honour to Thy Prophets; Thy delight is th' sweetest t'is life canst employ; Thee, by Whom I was created--and by Whose Mercy I am fed. And I boweth again and again to the floor; I criest my deepest tears, and cite t'ose anew from th' core; Thy verses of love t'at were once then thwarted; But as I ever know, Thou shalt always leave my heart rewarded.
0
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 8:42 PM UTC
The Verses of Love
Morn hath come, and I rushest out of my bed; I washest my hands, and striketh my fingers wet; I cleaneth out dust, which keepest falling from 'em stilll; I greetest lone dew, clouds, and yon usual mornin' shrill; I washest my face, and ponderest over Thy Grace; I soaketh my lips, and saith Thy love verses; Verses of love, my florid comfort and solace; Best of wonders, justice, and solar miracles; I slideth hastily into my white gown; For dawn hath come, and greeted me when alone; Night hath but been a dream and a tiny song; With chords unreal, and words t'at were not long; When winds are gurgling and my fantasy is torn; I still wantest to think but of Thee alone; The verses of love t'at hath long been gone; Leaving me deathlike, and breathless on my own; My blood is again thirsting for Thy love; Whose enemy hath been dishonest all t'ese years; When I boweth to th' floor and looketh again at Thee above; Within my chaste gown, I recalleth my prudent inward tears; Tears t'at hath never real faded, nor waned; Tears t'at hath hitherto kept me all sane; Thy verses of love made me once more feel loved; And healed my congested soul t'at was sorely halved; Within my heart dwelleth but one lump of scars; But all t'ese years I'th known Thou art ne'er t'at far; With Thee only, my past regrets might just seemeth fatuous; My whining heart cometh relieved, and my virtues turneth joyous; Ah, Thee, Lord of th' Worlds and of nights and days; Ah, Thee, Whose verses are prettier than what we hear; Ah, Thee, Whose Light is tenderer than any poems I might say; Ah, Thee, Who ruleth but alive and always stayeth here; Ah, Thee, Who engendered earth, hell, and heaven; Ah, Thee, Who tamest wild souls, and enlightenest the chosen; Ah, Thee, under Whom enemies canst be our best friends; Ah, Thee, under Whom misery canst be glad, and hearts are patient; Ah, Thee, by Whom an infant shall healthily grow; Ah, Thee, by Whom days shall fade, and be braced for tomorrow; Ah, Thee, by Whom th' luminous shall win and as ever glow; Ah, Thee, Who always listeneth and heareth and ceaseth not to know; I praiseth Thee and Thee only with joy; I claimeth my blessings and honour to Thy Prophets; Thy delight is th' sweetest t'is life canst employ; Thee, by Whom I was created--and by Whose Mercy I am fed. And I boweth again and again to the floor; I criest my deepest tears, and cite t'ose anew from th' core; Thy verses of love t'at were once then thwarted; But as I ever know, Thou shalt always leave my heart rewarded.
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48
J'ai peur d'un baiser Comme d'une abeille. Je souffre et je veille Sans me reposer : J'ai peur d'un baiser ! Pourtant j'aime Kate Et ses yeux jolis. Elle est délicate, Aux longs traits pâlis. Oh ! que j'aime Kate ! C'est Saint-Valentin ! Je dois et je n'ose Lui dire au matin... La terrible chose Que Saint-Valentin ! Elle m'est promise, Fort heureusement ! Mais quelle entreprise Que d'être un amant Près d'une promise ! J'ai peur d'un baiser Comme d'une abeille. Je souffre et je veille Sans me reposer : J'ai peur d'un baiser !
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1.2k
A poor young shepherd
there are no words for the way my ski n electrifies when y our smoke wraps ar ound our bodies and sends shivers down m y spine because you a re trickling your finge rs down my ribs and s ometimes i can not hel p but think about how blood felt trickling dow n my wrists and by the time you came around i was so far gone that i 'm more than surprised about how someone wh ose smile is always six m iles wide could love some one who wants to be bur ied six feet under and if i lost the chance to tell you that i love you, then i don ;t know where i would be and if i make my bed in a grave before you do i hop e you never pick up the bo ttle again and try to find s olace because we both kno w that anesthetics are neve r any different from poison s and if your nerve endings remember my touch and y our breath gets short but h eavy when you think you j ust got a text from me but you remember that the te xt will never come; i want y ou to know that i love yo u and that you can make it through anything and if yo u do just one thing in my r emembrance then i want y ou to never ******* drink my taste away because no matter how strong you se em i still think that my p assing will make you a lit tle uneasy and a little diff erent maybe and i wonde r if you'll cry anywhere c lose to as much as i used t o cry on a nightly basis a nd will you sneak out an d walk down to the stop sign where we exhaled a nd inhaled smoke and we held each other and **** man when i laid on the as phalt i still wished a car w ould come speeding by e ven though that's so **** ed up and this isn't even a poem it's just a ****** up story but if you ever love d me at all, you won't pi ck up the bottle- you wo n't take a shot even if it m eans remembering the tr igger.
0
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 10:54 PM UTC
overflow
there are no words for the way my ski n electrifies when y our smoke wraps ar ound our bodies and sends shivers down m y spine because you a re trickling your finge rs down my ribs and s ometimes i can not hel p but think about how blood felt trickling dow n my wrists and by the time you came around i was so far gone that i 'm more than surprised about how someone wh ose smile is always six m iles wide could love some one who wants to be bur ied six feet under and if i lost the chance to tell you that i love you, then i don ;t know where i would be and if i make my bed in a grave before you do i hop e you never pick up the bo ttle again and try to find s olace because we both kno w that anesthetics are neve r any different from poison s and if your nerve endings remember my touch and y our breath gets short but h eavy when you think you j ust got a text from me but you remember that the te xt will never come; i want y ou to know that i love yo u and that you can make it through anything and if yo u do just one thing in my r emembrance then i want y ou to never ******* drink my taste away because no matter how strong you se em i still think that my p assing will make you a lit tle uneasy and a little diff erent maybe and i wonde r if you'll cry anywhere c lose to as much as i used t o cry on a nightly basis a nd will you sneak out an d walk down to the stop sign where we exhaled a nd inhaled smoke and we held each other and **** man when i laid on the as phalt i still wished a car w ould come speeding by e ven though that's so **** ed up and this isn't even a poem it's just a ****** up story but if you ever love d me at all, you won't pi ck up the bottle- you wo n't take a shot even if it m eans remembering the tr igger.
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70
Behind th' bushes I caught thee As thou drove forth straightly by me. Wearing a grey suit and dark tie Thou smiled as thou waved us goodbye. I was trudging along one friend When outright it began to rain. Flipping about th' green bushes; Darting afore 'twixt blue masses. Thou wert as keen as usual Busy as t'ose spinning laurels With leaves so prone as nearby wood Whose fruits real jolly fine and good. Thou wert screened by yon murky glass Whilst rain soaked us wet by th' grass. Scents of firm tulips ***** my breath; filling plump bleak air with warm death. Among t'ose hills wert swarms of bees and roaming flies behind whose courts. Swans t'at wandered by wert like thee; comely but shy in thy owneth worlds. Lilies of life, roses of death Be blessings to thy youth and health And soft like moonlit lavender; Turn to me alone and leave her. But my poems wert within thy mind; and my songs thy red-lipped sonnet. Everything's good; everything's fine; Read my words tonite 'fore thy bed. And as thou sat breathless and still Like t'is trifling rain made us feel; Guilty as itself and fake clouds For show'ring our naive earth out loud. Our destiny was seen again; Like how some dand'llions shalt remain When t'is cold-like spring's dragged away As summer befriendeth early May. Webs of young hope gasped in thy eyes; clear as had never been disguised. Not as vague but wert surely thine, blissful and sweet; as which of mine.
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Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 5:51 PM UTC
Behind the Bushes
Rife with hate, and ripe with disdain Full of love, yet smelling of pain Within my heart only thou shalt remain; until t'is sun dies and it all starts raining again. And betwixt me, in my white chamber Only upon thy smile I canst heartily ponder Ah, having seen thee not since cold Sunday As if I didst recall thee not morn yesterday. I knowest I should carest not for thee; for I thought not of thou and I. But to my heart I no more lie; it is not thou and I but we. Ah, but why hath thou disappeared again, my love? I who is sure thou art my half, and even in t'ese all guilty, ye' gullible miseries dwell- like a blind and dumb nut in a proud shell. What am I to thee, after all t'is sorrow? And th' pertinent pain I'th put to stand out and glow In th' mind t'at I would somehow becomest thy rose and lighten thee aft'r thy breezy frost But thou wert not, thou wert not t'ere! I am someone who should not care How canst then I shove 'way t'ese tears? Oh, all t'ese feelings are here-painted grimly blue and weird, just like yon scarlet gloom our anguish hath feared. Ah! Wherefore art thou, wherefore art thou, my skylark? Let it just be th' moon who is to shine and spark Glow and be as mad in its circles dark As I leanest 'gainst thee in yon west park, thoughts free from all nearby childish hassles and dream, dream into th' realms of our loving puzzles. Oh, but thou wert t'ere not, thou careth for me not! Now all my long sentences maketh but t'is poem's story short Yet again, after all I've finally realised t'at I loveth thee, and for thou knoweth-amongst all t'ese abrupt madnesses 'Tis thy voice I still hopelessly long for, and thy caresses art but t'at I secretly yearn, and shalt forever die for. Oh, my thee! And triumphs of mine shalt lie in thee; for from death to death I shalt only celebrate victory, as long as thou dwelleth in me, and I in thy story. Ah! And stiffen my soul once more-with thy kisses, whilst stare into me with t'ose thick golden lashes. Hidest our longings behind th' bushes- and t'is sacred gift of our love, as rain falls and redness flashes. Tempt me into thy votive spell; and please no longer say goodbye. Giveth my heart joy and please me well; put thy lips on mine 'till I die.
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Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 12:35 PM UTC
Worries
Rife with hate, and ripe with disdain Full of love, yet smelling of pain Within my heart only thou shalt remain; until t'is sun dies and it all starts raining again. And betwixt me, in my white chamber Only upon thy smile I canst heartily ponder Ah, having seen thee not since cold Sunday As if I didst recall thee not morn yesterday. I knowest I should carest not for thee; for I thought not of thou and I. But to my heart I no more lie; it is not thou and I but we. Ah, but why hath thou disappeared again, my love? I who is sure thou art my half, and even in t'ese all guilty, ye' gullible miseries dwell- like a blind and dumb nut in a proud shell. What am I to thee, after all t'is sorrow? And th' pertinent pain I'th put to stand out and glow In th' mind t'at I would somehow becomest thy rose and lighten thee aft'r thy breezy frost But thou wert not, thou wert not t'ere! I am someone who should not care How canst then I shove 'way t'ese tears? Oh, all t'ese feelings are here-painted grimly blue and weird, just like yon scarlet gloom our anguish hath feared. Ah! Wherefore art thou, wherefore art thou, my skylark? Let it just be th' moon who is to shine and spark Glow and be as mad in its circles dark As I leanest 'gainst thee in yon west park, thoughts free from all nearby childish hassles and dream, dream into th' realms of our loving puzzles. Oh, but thou wert t'ere not, thou careth for me not! Now all my long sentences maketh but t'is poem's story short Yet again, after all I've finally realised t'at I loveth thee, and for thou knoweth-amongst all t'ese abrupt madnesses 'Tis thy voice I still hopelessly long for, and thy caresses art but t'at I secretly yearn, and shalt forever die for. Oh, my thee! And triumphs of mine shalt lie in thee; for from death to death I shalt only celebrate victory, as long as thou dwelleth in me, and I in thy story. Ah! And stiffen my soul once more-with thy kisses, whilst stare into me with t'ose thick golden lashes. Hidest our longings behind th' bushes- and t'is sacred gift of our love, as rain falls and redness flashes. Tempt me into thy votive spell; and please no longer say goodbye. Giveth my heart joy and please me well; put thy lips on mine 'till I die.
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49
(À une jeune étrangère.) Quand tes beaux pieds distraits errent, ô jeune fille, Sur ce sable mouillé, frange d'or de la mer, Baisse-toi, mon amour, vers la blonde coquille Que Vénus fait, dit-on, polir au flot amer. L'écrin de l'Océan n'en a point de pareille ; Les roses de ta joue ont peine à l'égaler ; Et quand de sa voluté on approche l'oreille, On entend mille voix qu'on ne peut démêler. Tantôt c'est la tempête avec ses lourdes vagues, Qui viennent en tonnant se briser sur tes pas ; Tantôt c'est la forêt avec ses frissons vagues ; Tantôt ce sont des voix qui chuchotent tout bas. Oh ! ne dirais-tu pas, à ce confus murmure Que rend le coquillage aux lèvres de carmin, Un écho merveilleux où l'immense nature Résume tous ses bruits dans le creux de ta main ? Emporte-la, mon ange ! Et quand ton esprit joue Avec lui-même, oisif, pour charmer tes ennuis, Sur ce bijou des mers penche en riant ta joue, Et, fermant tes beaux yeux, recueilles-en les bruits. Si, dans ces mille accents dont sa conque fourmille, Il en est un plus doux qui vienne te frapper, Et qui s'élève à peine aux bords de la coquille, Comme un aveu d'amour qui n'ose s'échapper ; S'il a pour ta candeur des terreurs et des charmes ; S'il renaît en mourant presque éternellement ; S'il semble au fond d'un cœur rouler avec des larmes ; S'il tient de l'espérance et du gémissement... Ne te consume pas à chercher ce mystère ! Ce mélodieux souffle, ô mon ange, c'est moi ! Quel bruit plus éternel et plus doux sur la terre, Qu'un écho de mon cœur qui m'entretient de toi ?
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Le coquillage au bord de la mer
(À une jeune étrangère.) Quand tes beaux pieds distraits errent, ô jeune fille, Sur ce sable mouillé, frange d'or de la mer, Baisse-toi, mon amour, vers la blonde coquille Que Vénus fait, dit-on, polir au flot amer. L'écrin de l'Océan n'en a point de pareille ; Les roses de ta joue ont peine à l'égaler ; Et quand de sa voluté on approche l'oreille, On entend mille voix qu'on ne peut démêler. Tantôt c'est la tempête avec ses lourdes vagues, Qui viennent en tonnant se briser sur tes pas ; Tantôt c'est la forêt avec ses frissons vagues ; Tantôt ce sont des voix qui chuchotent tout bas. Oh ! ne dirais-tu pas, à ce confus murmure Que rend le coquillage aux lèvres de carmin, Un écho merveilleux où l'immense nature Résume tous ses bruits dans le creux de ta main ? Emporte-la, mon ange ! Et quand ton esprit joue Avec lui-même, oisif, pour charmer tes ennuis, Sur ce bijou des mers penche en riant ta joue, Et, fermant tes beaux yeux, recueilles-en les bruits. Si, dans ces mille accents dont sa conque fourmille, Il en est un plus doux qui vienne te frapper, Et qui s'élève à peine aux bords de la coquille, Comme un aveu d'amour qui n'ose s'échapper ; S'il a pour ta candeur des terreurs et des charmes ; S'il renaît en mourant presque éternellement ; S'il semble au fond d'un cœur rouler avec des larmes ; S'il tient de l'espérance et du gémissement... Ne te consume pas à chercher ce mystère ! Ce mélodieux souffle, ô mon ange, c'est moi ! Quel bruit plus éternel et plus doux sur la terre, Qu'un écho de mon cœur qui m'entretient de toi ?
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33
Mein teri yaad me khoya Soye hua jaaga tujhe na dekha toh phir se so gaya... Yaadon ke mele me... Itni nazdikiyaan phir bhi dooriyaan Nazar e Nazar me ghul gaya sharaab e gulaab ... Aur kab waqt beet gaya... Nasamajh Ko samajh na aaya... Phir yaad karta Dil e nadaan ose Aur phirta rehta yaadon ke mele me Khuch neend liye jaida... keval osse milne ke liye... Dhoondta rehta aawargi e baadal Megh ki Boond me osko dekhta e Nazar... Boond boond khoya mein Pagal deewana hua mein Jharne ki tarah...behta mein Osme me khuch ish tarah ghulta mein Aur phir shaant samundar ke paas baitha mein... Tujhe bas dekhta mein mann ki aankhon se...
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Jan 14, 2018
Jan 14, 2018 at 12:31 PM UTC
Ishq ki Boond boond e Dil!!
And t'is is truthfully why I am here, my love: I belong to thee, sacredly, entirely, and soulfully to thee-yes, only to thee! My eyes brighten at every sight of thee, my mind delights at the thoughts of thee, my pulse fastens at the views of thee, my blood curdles at the scent of thee, my veins rustle at the gaze of thee-and hark! Hark now, dearest-how my heart leaps, sheepishly yet excitedly-when'ver I recall thee! Ah, and how t'is feeling trembles and fidgets as always, as thou stareth back-gladly and with a smile so handsome yet animated and playful- sweeping straightly back into my soul. Like t'ose stupefying, sentient glazes of summers- blowing silently with the rustic gallantry of t'eir ruddy oaks, my heart is elevated with defiant, but affectionate branches of terrific, terrific love for thee! Oh! And t'ese thou but needst to know- t'at both my virtuous-and vicious lusts-crave only thee, as well as how my pure joys rely on thee! As despairingly as how my soul was born for thee, my life was crafted for thee, my hands were paired with thee, and thus so graciously are my young feet- my toes, my ribs, my lungs, and the very limbs in which my spines might dwell, and be celebrated by thy gentle, manly breath. Oh, how thou, my Western prince-so delicate and blessed with all the might of my very being-thou hath, my love, since the very first been my gem, my bronze, my silver, my gold, my charm, my pearl, my diamond, my light, my fire, my treasure, and my lifelong dreams-as thou shalt always be! And so art thou the perfect accord to comply with all such of my mine; as thou art but the freshest bloom of my ****** years, as innocent as t'is nature's peaceful labyrinths- but youthful and starry like the fruit of my most curious- yet ardently succulent imagination. And how I am so devoted to thee, my love! Just like the stars are to the moon above.
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Mar 2, 2013
Mar 2, 2013 at 3:34 PM UTC
For Him
And t'is is truthfully why I am here, my love: I belong to thee, sacredly, entirely, and soulfully to thee-yes, only to thee! My eyes brighten at every sight of thee, my mind delights at the thoughts of thee, my pulse fastens at the views of thee, my blood curdles at the scent of thee, my veins rustle at the gaze of thee-and hark! Hark now, dearest-how my heart leaps, sheepishly yet excitedly-when'ver I recall thee! Ah, and how t'is feeling trembles and fidgets as always, as thou stareth back-gladly and with a smile so handsome yet animated and playful- sweeping straightly back into my soul. Like t'ose stupefying, sentient glazes of summers- blowing silently with the rustic gallantry of t'eir ruddy oaks, my heart is elevated with defiant, but affectionate branches of terrific, terrific love for thee! Oh! And t'ese thou but needst to know- t'at both my virtuous-and vicious lusts-crave only thee, as well as how my pure joys rely on thee! As despairingly as how my soul was born for thee, my life was crafted for thee, my hands were paired with thee, and thus so graciously are my young feet- my toes, my ribs, my lungs, and the very limbs in which my spines might dwell, and be celebrated by thy gentle, manly breath. Oh, how thou, my Western prince-so delicate and blessed with all the might of my very being-thou hath, my love, since the very first been my gem, my bronze, my silver, my gold, my charm, my pearl, my diamond, my light, my fire, my treasure, and my lifelong dreams-as thou shalt always be! And so art thou the perfect accord to comply with all such of my mine; as thou art but the freshest bloom of my ****** years, as innocent as t'is nature's peaceful labyrinths- but youthful and starry like the fruit of my most curious- yet ardently succulent imagination. And how I am so devoted to thee, my love! Just like the stars are to the moon above.
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I cry in love, I love in hate; sorrow t'at no-one should create! Whenst no gladness runs my heart's brake It's thy own image t'at I'll make. I remember lightly t'at day As I caught thee on my morn way With some radiance on thy brow; thy words to me began to flow. How at thy gaze my heart fluttered; and as we stared my cheeks ripened! Easily didst t'eir shells turn red; and my body, numb went with sweat! Ah! T'ose docile roots within t'eir *** cunning creatures of o'r smug Lord! With eager thirst t'ey peered at us, sketching a poem as we conversed! And t'at quaint note I filch'd from 'em- what a gay song on t'eir young stem! I knew just t'en how thou doth feel- from yon crisp leaf and its mild seal! Seized it as I two nites af-ter- mine heartbeat fastened with lau'hter! 'pon learning thy name on its end; so dearly crafted by thy hand! O! How thou planted into th' cells- th' living plants, amongst t'eir wells! T'is piece on loving confession- and such tender expectations! I danced gaily in victory- immersed myself in vile glory! Ah! Didst I flounce myself right outside To lure and bringst thee t'wards my side. 'Twas th' start of o'r story; and my at-first-sight love for thee. O, in thy arms I weave my might; and in thy warmth, I findeth delight.
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Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 5:12 PM UTC
Memories (Extended)
L'un toujours vit la vie en rose, Jeunesse qui n'en finit plus, Seconde enfance moins morose, Ni vœux, ni regrets superflus. Ignorant tout flux et reflux, Ce sage pour qui rien ne bouge Règne instinctif : tel un phallus. Mais moi je vois la vie en rouge. L'autre ratiocine et glose Sur des modes irrésolus, Soupesant, pesant chaque chose De mains gourdes aux lourds calus. Lui faudrait du temps tant et plus Pour se risquer hors de son bouge. Le monde est gris à ce reclus. Mais moi je vois la vie en rouge. Lui, cet autre, alentour il ose Jeter des regards bien voulus, Mais, sur quoi que son œil se pose, Il s'exaspère où tu te plus, Œil des philanthropes joufflus ; Tout lui semble noir, vierge ou gouge, Les hommes, vins bus, livres lus. Mais moi je vois la vie en rouge. Envoi Prince et princesse, allez, élus, En triomphe par la route où je Trime d'ornières en talus. Mais moi, je vois la vie en rouge.
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Ballade de la vie en rouge
Prelude Seeing thee again is indeed invigorating-look at how my thoughts are now brimming-with t'eir lost souls! T'ose souls who faded away-as I was severely bereft of my muchness. But now I am glowing with it again, whenever I remembereth our chilly encounter t'is afternoon; thou wandering at lightning pace-in thy fond childishness! But furthermore thou in t'ose fond eyes-and t'eir depth, o! Thinking of thee makes my heart shimmer-and credulous to thy gentle love. And I shall but never go wrong again-as our fates, I assume; are but inevitably, and so dearly, bound to each other, my dear, my dear. O, and but today wasth I chanced to see my lover; shining bright and tender like a glade in a bower. Storming out in gladness out of his chamber; and as we talked his face grew fonder! O, lovelier and keener didst he become, through th' more subservient seconds-as though truly adorned with passion, Entranced by such courage and fated determination. I listened carefully to his fond elaboration; and confined myself to my meek walls of admiration. My thee, o, my thee! T'is as if everything hath been our fierce destiny And shall our paths but cross again- of which I'm certain, under yon strumming daylight- when t'at weeping moon waivers. And all t'at wailing bark shall ever come to an end-as our luminous, but fair melody lingers. My moon-and th' following morning, it shan't any longer be weeping. To th' despondent grass wilt it start singing-bestowing th' delayed merit whilst bent is 'tis body-and dancing: Every other fault shalt come back from t'eir mistake! And th' latent dangers shalt be put well at a steep stake. And t'ose rings-o, rings of love, as t'ey are, by t'is wan light silver A light whose abyss shan't ever again last forever. And protected as we are-chained by our ripe love- Shall we proceed into serene joy, and resides there- within th' grand layers of our hearts, and splendid flames of t'is wondrous eternity.
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Jan 4, 2013
Jan 4, 2013 at 10:20 AM UTC
Encounter
Prelude Seeing thee again is indeed invigorating-look at how my thoughts are now brimming-with t'eir lost souls! T'ose souls who faded away-as I was severely bereft of my muchness. But now I am glowing with it again, whenever I remembereth our chilly encounter t'is afternoon; thou wandering at lightning pace-in thy fond childishness! But furthermore thou in t'ose fond eyes-and t'eir depth, o! Thinking of thee makes my heart shimmer-and credulous to thy gentle love. And I shall but never go wrong again-as our fates, I assume; are but inevitably, and so dearly, bound to each other, my dear, my dear. O, and but today wasth I chanced to see my lover; shining bright and tender like a glade in a bower. Storming out in gladness out of his chamber; and as we talked his face grew fonder! O, lovelier and keener didst he become, through th' more subservient seconds-as though truly adorned with passion, Entranced by such courage and fated determination. I listened carefully to his fond elaboration; and confined myself to my meek walls of admiration. My thee, o, my thee! T'is as if everything hath been our fierce destiny And shall our paths but cross again- of which I'm certain, under yon strumming daylight- when t'at weeping moon waivers. And all t'at wailing bark shall ever come to an end-as our luminous, but fair melody lingers. My moon-and th' following morning, it shan't any longer be weeping. To th' despondent grass wilt it start singing-bestowing th' delayed merit whilst bent is 'tis body-and dancing: Every other fault shalt come back from t'eir mistake! And th' latent dangers shalt be put well at a steep stake. And t'ose rings-o, rings of love, as t'ey are, by t'is wan light silver A light whose abyss shan't ever again last forever. And protected as we are-chained by our ripe love- Shall we proceed into serene joy, and resides there- within th' grand layers of our hearts, and splendid flames of t'is wondrous eternity.
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32
We gazed at the star-studded Sky We knew it was time to say goodbye All I could do was cry I was gonna lo-ose my guy Each passing day you had fought So we could tie the knot But we knew it was the end Tears of blood fell from my broken heart I could feel the pain during your chemos More than the plight  of the flightless emus People said love was the best medication But they never talked about expiration One last hug . One last time . One last question  :- "Why could my love not cure  your cancer ? " I knew you would soon be gone But I'd  always wait for ya right here in this lawn !
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Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 12:20 PM UTC
Last night
C'est la nuit ; la nuit noire, assoupie et profonde. L'ombre immense élargit ses ailes sur le monde. Dans vos joyeux palais gardés par le canon, Dans vos lits de velours, de damas, de linon, Sous vos chauds couvre-pieds de martres zibelines Sous le nuage blanc des molles mousselines, - Derrière vos rideaux qui cachent sous leurs plis Toutes les voluptés avec tous les oublis, Aux sons d'une fanfare amoureuse et lointaine, Tandis qu'une veilleuse, en tremblant, ose à peine Eclairer le plafond de pourpre et de lampas, Vous, duc de Saint-Arnaud, vous, comte de Maupas, Vous, sénateurs, préfets, généraux, juges, princes, Toi, César, qu'à genoux adorent tes provinces, Toi qui rêvas l'empire et le réalisas, Dormez, maîtres... - Voici le jour. Debout, forçats ! Jersey, le 28 octobre 1852.
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C'est la nuit ; la nuit noire