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"outness" poems
A girl's values are now FINALLY free! Because nothing wasn't meant to be ever forgotten from her literal inside outness. Nor was it meant to fixate a very awful opportunity for her to mend NOTHING at all of the sort. Except now that all values are truly free.... How does she put up with the newly evolved form of freedom, (that too is... Nothing more then the impression of something that isn't entirely evolved, when it's more of the freedom of something that never "up to this very point in time" has had the very taste for freedom...ever since this very "corruption" had first started back in a (supposed past) that can't EVER AGAIN become measured properly...? When all isn't meant to be remembered, ever again. When it's also never made to be forgotten (for the most part), either. So, reasoning out the many variables that compute too much seeming nonsense, as if it's meant to correct it's very wrong doings without thinking about whether or not, it's made to simply be this way...from now on...? A question repeated by another question, doesn't give enough value to an even more "correct" answer... When nothing is made to bear for the correct assumption, when wanting too correctly "imply" something of an entirely different meaning, altogether. So, in order to mask this (good enough impression) where nothing would ever again, become "faulted" right off the bat! So you couldn't ever become the more obvious to such a situation that isn't ever to be up too date, ever again. This poem is too a girl who isn't just (on the dime) to correct their most importance across something that's most deserving of a young and cherishable young girl's lifetime values. (Because let's face it...) A sense in someone's very self isn't truly found out or correctly assorted into context for their very heartbeat to pulse even more correctly too life, if it's not been made to be assorted (very well) within it's very pattern recognition to debate those very pulses into even more correct verses. That would then normally lead into a proud melody to simply interpret as mere language to itself bouncing off of different representation of things that ONLY matter from deep within itself (first and foremost). Because one's very values are then sometimes mistakenly disguised by the heart that you have yet too interpret (towards the very inputs that have yet to correct it's own values for the heart to value, altogether)! And that is a brain that's too full of itself... That it can't even see the more correct reason, as too simply "why that is"...? PS... The brain is the ultimate finisher of failures across an even more disturbing platform that can't even redeem itself (properly) when it's CONSTANTLY yanking it's own chain essentially too bear...alone with!
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Oct 3, 2020
Oct 3, 2020 at 10:50 PM UTC
A girl's values are now FINALLY free!
A girl's values are now FINALLY free! Because nothing wasn't meant to be ever forgotten from her literal inside outness. Nor was it meant to fixate a very awful opportunity for her to mend NOTHING at all of the sort. Except now that all values are truly free.... How does she put up with the newly evolved form of freedom, (that too is... Nothing more then the impression of something that isn't entirely evolved, when it's more of the freedom of something that never "up to this very point in time" has had the very taste for freedom...ever since this very "corruption" had first started back in a (supposed past) that can't EVER AGAIN become measured properly...? When all isn't meant to be remembered, ever again. When it's also never made to be forgotten (for the most part), either. So, reasoning out the many variables that compute too much seeming nonsense, as if it's meant to correct it's very wrong doings without thinking about whether or not, it's made to simply be this way...from now on...? A question repeated by another question, doesn't give enough value to an even more "correct" answer... When nothing is made to bear for the correct assumption, when wanting too correctly "imply" something of an entirely different meaning, altogether. So, in order to mask this (good enough impression) where nothing would ever again, become "faulted" right off the bat! So you couldn't ever become the more obvious to such a situation that isn't ever to be up too date, ever again. This poem is too a girl who isn't just (on the dime) to correct their most importance across something that's most deserving of a young and cherishable young girl's lifetime values. (Because let's face it...) A sense in someone's very self isn't truly found out or correctly assorted into context for their very heartbeat to pulse even more correctly too life, if it's not been made to be assorted (very well) within it's very pattern recognition to debate those very pulses into even more correct verses. That would then normally lead into a proud melody to simply interpret as mere language to itself bouncing off of different representation of things that ONLY matter from deep within itself (first and foremost). Because one's very values are then sometimes mistakenly disguised by the heart that you have yet too interpret (towards the very inputs that have yet to correct it's own values for the heart to value, altogether)! And that is a brain that's too full of itself... That it can't even see the more correct reason, as too simply "why that is"...? PS... The brain is the ultimate finisher of failures across an even more disturbing platform that can't even redeem itself (properly) when it's CONSTANTLY yanking it's own chain essentially too bear...alone with!
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Among summer so cruel With heat grazed by the darkest brawn What sun giveth life if blue or scarlet, need life live so To name thy frith upon such UV life, such ultraviolet sight And in UV thou love without flaw On what corner the street so narrow, the intersected and the intersection Eyne come not forth, make way for the immortal heart Parley not for mutual love, thy earn is thy gain And with growing grief thou spill thy blood in rivers of outness dreams Lie not in the roseless garden Be or be not as thy nature thou swear Be, so mayst thyself is sworn Lovely love, we canst not ever die ...if we ought to be, in ultraviolet light.
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Sep 22, 2017
Sep 22, 2017 at 8:53 PM UTC
Love In Ultraviolet Light
Of all clear stages, an interdimensional touch, outness dream, the entanglement of like matter Of all clear stages which shall touch the poet, which shall touch the concubine, the exotic dancer, the artist, the entrepreneur... Of all sorts in the aughts the same is different so in other worlds, is the difference so in other hearts?
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Nov 24, 2017
Nov 24, 2017 at 10:24 AM UTC
(?)
I cant fathom the "outness" of this Like the world is a monster crushed under my fist Spitting lines of Cranium 5 Not enough sustanance to keep you alive Dont look back when The doors are closed Im brave, but not courageous Im the only one that knows A vanity may be broken And little am I open To disappointment I am disappointment I am Not sure Where this is going My head Is flowing Into a sand dune But thats okay I may just sit And watch the full moon
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Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 12:47 AM UTC
Let the Mind Speak
I, maim’d with your wholesomeness, with your heavenly mien. Long the soiree of fallen touches, can not a single palm suffice to feel It comes to mind, the time after the first, we’ve met again. With your smile, your warmest gaze, Had I thought you to be beyond my visage. There you were, touches away. Upon your moon, the loveliest garb of them all, ‘The array of a thousand rubies’ And patently I could not ignore the art varnished over your feet. I knew it too well, The ‘Platinum Guild Stiletto’...by the known Stuart Weitzman A fair woman in her element, who can contest..? I approached, with the slim’st valor I had hoped to fade... If not now, what chance is there after… This now could not have ever been soothsaid. Just a night, a man, and a woman. What may win me this love shall win me eternity… From this farthest gape to the eyes of span, to caress or so graze your lovest parts To touch you Evictus, have I unraveled the origin of touch To taste you Evictus, have I not made one the savour and the desire, the lusciousness and the duende My love , my sweet’st potion of desire This love shan't ever fold for I knowst it true. As this great span held by wonder. Let us pour our lusted parts into the rivers of outness dreams And see without scope the collateral beauty within ourselves I can nevermore gamble your precious heart for mere jewels and riches If ever, I could not bear for our limbs to never interwove in the midst of our coitus Whenas day is born it'll be still, we will be still- in romance and forth in the tombs of ecstasy
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Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 10:25 AM UTC
Volaré
I, maim’d with your wholesomeness, with your heavenly mien. Long the soiree of fallen touches, can not a single palm suffice to feel It comes to mind, the time after the first, we’ve met again. With your smile, your warmest gaze, Had I thought you to be beyond my visage. There you were, touches away. Upon your moon, the loveliest garb of them all, ‘The array of a thousand rubies’ And patently I could not ignore the art varnished over your feet. I knew it too well, The ‘Platinum Guild Stiletto’...by the known Stuart Weitzman A fair woman in her element, who can contest..? I approached, with the slim’st valor I had hoped to fade... If not now, what chance is there after… This now could not have ever been soothsaid. Just a night, a man, and a woman. What may win me this love shall win me eternity… From this farthest gape to the eyes of span, to caress or so graze your lovest parts To touch you Evictus, have I unraveled the origin of touch To taste you Evictus, have I not made one the savour and the desire, the lusciousness and the duende My love , my sweet’st potion of desire This love shan't ever fold for I knowst it true. As this great span held by wonder. Let us pour our lusted parts into the rivers of outness dreams And see without scope the collateral beauty within ourselves I can nevermore gamble your precious heart for mere jewels and riches If ever, I could not bear for our limbs to never interwove in the midst of our coitus Whenas day is born it'll be still, we will be still- in romance and forth in the tombs of ecstasy
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