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"overlay" poems
‘I am…’ 'Or am I’? Who can say? ‘A posteriori’ leads the way For the extra and the ordinary Axiomatic sway, In the gravity of corollary, ‘A priori’ interplay Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation, As the innocence of dissonance delay. Practicing semantic contemplation, In willfully prevenient interpolation, Civilly disobedient in expediently seeming disarray, Forecasts in vague extrapolation Contrasts the millennial contagion Already underway, Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves, To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves, A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves, Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves, Inflating linguistics in acrobatic raves, A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves. The probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates, An apperceived inquirer of qualitative states, Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates. Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates, Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates, Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates. An escaped prisoner from depressive disillusion, Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion, The personable recluse fighting an illusion Breaking down the nuances of every institution. Calculating consequence as time goes to infinity Revolutionary commonsense of principal utility, An opinionated adversary, to the realist without evidence, Theorizing in futility, Stipulating every sense leading to the virility of the pretense that dominates community. Divergently converging all the efforts we’ve personified, Inadvertently submerging old traditions that unethically were codified, Hastening the urgency for purging that which cannot be modified through the merging of the certainty that will no longer coincide, Stationing the levies to finally stem the tide, Of periodic enmities disguised to be necessities so blatantly deified. Observing moral sentiments, perched upon eternity, As consequential regiments are expounded universally, To unstratify the residents indiscriminately And identify quantum elements spiritualistically, Changing collective behavior individually, Socializing constructs in joint ventured logo therapy.
0
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 8:07 AM UTC
Paradoxical Tendencies
‘I am…’ 'Or am I’? Who can say? ‘A posteriori’ leads the way For the extra and the ordinary Axiomatic sway, In the gravity of corollary, ‘A priori’ interplay Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation, As the innocence of dissonance delay. Practicing semantic contemplation, In willfully prevenient interpolation, Civilly disobedient in expediently seeming disarray, Forecasts in vague extrapolation Contrasts the millennial contagion Already underway, Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves, To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves, A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves, Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves, Inflating linguistics in acrobatic raves, A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves. The probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates, An apperceived inquirer of qualitative states, Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates. Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates, Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates, Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates. An escaped prisoner from depressive disillusion, Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion, The personable recluse fighting an illusion Breaking down the nuances of every institution. Calculating consequence as time goes to infinity Revolutionary commonsense of principal utility, An opinionated adversary, to the realist without evidence, Theorizing in futility, Stipulating every sense leading to the virility of the pretense that dominates community. Divergently converging all the efforts we’ve personified, Inadvertently submerging old traditions that unethically were codified, Hastening the urgency for purging that which cannot be modified through the merging of the certainty that will no longer coincide, Stationing the levies to finally stem the tide, Of periodic enmities disguised to be necessities so blatantly deified. Observing moral sentiments, perched upon eternity, As consequential regiments are expounded universally, To unstratify the residents indiscriminately And identify quantum elements spiritualistically, Changing collective behavior individually, Socializing constructs in joint ventured logo therapy.
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47
"sly wordplay, it glows, feels like a shimmering address, half warning and half blessing, really alive with cadence" read Kiki Dresden poetry^ once more into the sea trench divide, I dive to devise, Your provoking comment, demands my full attention, you divert me from struggling with ginger & clay, a contra concept that molds and enflames, yet strikes overtly sweet, it does not come so easy as this playful notion But your words deserve the attention immédiate atenção imediata that births this script, tumbling forth in an instantly instantaneously me student, you mistress~master, schooling me on sublimity subliminal, capturing the capering stylistic that bursts forth from within, that my fingertips provide, while my brain connives & connivers continuously you overlay analytics that never are to me revealed, the what and wherefore of the whom hiding within of the im~perpetuity impish essence of i m p ishness by charmingly doing me, not once, but many times better here a spillage: an observational ditty, dressed in a tux, most formally, to render the greatest wordplay ever invented t, the uniqueness of a simple thank you my favorite poem a forever for ever, the song that plys and plays me in the me so often, the linguists have banned the word repeatedly from my lexicon so in its stead, this all-in-one mighty steed (verb phrase, a noun, or an adjective depending on its usage) this phatic expression, here disguised in Portuguese, muito obrigado! muito obrigado! muito obrigado!                                                                     nml 5:39am nyc 10/4, 10/4
0
Oct 4, 2025
Oct 4, 2025 at 5:44 AM UTC
Love of Wordplay for Kiki Dresden
"sly wordplay, it glows, feels like a shimmering address, half warning and half blessing, really alive with cadence" read Kiki Dresden poetry^ once more into the sea trench divide, I dive to devise, Your provoking comment, demands my full attention, you divert me from struggling with ginger & clay, a contra concept that molds and enflames, yet strikes overtly sweet, it does not come so easy as this playful notion But your words deserve the attention immédiate atenção imediata that births this script, tumbling forth in an instantly instantaneously me student, you mistress~master, schooling me on sublimity subliminal, capturing the capering stylistic that bursts forth from within, that my fingertips provide, while my brain connives & connivers continuously you overlay analytics that never are to me revealed, the what and wherefore of the whom hiding within of the im~perpetuity impish essence of i m p ishness by charmingly doing me, not once, but many times better here a spillage: an observational ditty, dressed in a tux, most formally, to render the greatest wordplay ever invented t, the uniqueness of a simple thank you my favorite poem a forever for ever, the song that plys and plays me in the me so often, the linguists have banned the word repeatedly from my lexicon so in its stead, this all-in-one mighty steed (verb phrase, a noun, or an adjective depending on its usage) this phatic expression, here disguised in Portuguese, muito obrigado! muito obrigado! muito obrigado!                                                                     nml 5:39am nyc 10/4, 10/4
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67
*~~ When so much light around but you say the dark I could not understand my top layer When I was in the womb Then, and not But there was light Then when I saw your universe that you have made everything was there My playing companions The Sun The Moon My beloved, And that delighted Night's north star was on her forehead   Where all of my senses have grown up Then at one sudden night of the new moon I saw a thick overlay on the sky, between you and me The North Star has disappeared I think that you were true In the dark I find my known world One by one, Trying out through the thick layer It seems to cover the end As light yellow yolk See a light-colored tint which awakens my sixth sense again A shadowy obsession Which has yet to create an illusion ~~ @Musfiq us shaleheen*
0
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 1:27 PM UTC
which has yet to create an illusion
all aluminum alloy ammo   bane bat brakes badly basters back bones come call cthulhu Cristo cuz dead ********** dominate de download   even elven eternal endowments fail frivolously flaming for fair fraudulence grant good goggles give grandiose gratuity how hella homeboys have how he has If I ignore I implicate its implore jack jacks jacks kay killla kooks krack LAPD locks la lackeys maybe mom made mad monoxide no, no natural nix NOx neutralizes oh over overt opp only overlay orphic please protest politely panic pretenses perpetuity quiet quivers quiet queens remember rage reaps reciprocity so sour sits supplanters sat to tell them to tare trail *** tat? universal unhappiness underlays under us victory validates victors vanity why warble when winners wont waste worry wanting x-axis x-rays Xerophagy Xanax Xanthorroea you yodel yonder yet yahweh's yells Yarrish zero zag zealots zoos
0
Jun 20, 2012
Jun 20, 2012 at 4:40 AM UTC
Untitled
is it love or the parasite ? my pilot bulk                       aims for relief        it pursues this via                             your romantic correction in public arena                   a library stair                     (i never prior encountered you) one step as foreigner         the approach and upon a swift internal pendulum i make witless incisions hurried mended sentences directed stuns invasive i demand the compromise                   of your company hastily push at boundaries and you're not so accommodating                                                  but on a further occasion same building we exchange a battering of conversation that    then        matures            into barter-like use of language despite my harassments   a civil cultivation is unearthed tongue within this intelligence effort i lessen loosen my demanding appearance disregard my dignity      a skin suit about the ankles you're open in a vein of similarity    you flesh out your own controls we've progressed quickly there's an aped conduct                  and flashing attitudes this time we share table space a nearby café we have become quite unmanned     repeated meet ups upon humours we adjust small habits     and shake on perceptions where we overlap it becomes    more an overlay of rationalities         than resented promises fast time passes and i move into your living space                                   i pick a wildflower                                                                    and put it in the tiny vase on your dining table we agree on its colour                                               we agree on a book to make our bible material we agree on the pitch of the tinnitus we share the clothes i am to wear i switch to your diet and you cease taking medications we sleep on your lawn like children and bring down the night sky for comfort during the day we wear our sleep               like a lubrication for our chores and go about our productivity               in genuine partnership yet i feel we're just out of reach             of some dark harm we are an excellent sample pair it is all vital we grow stronger the more we quiz it recycling our ********** refine our agreements await further impulses and come closer to plug so.. do we please love       or simply indulge a parasite ?
0
Nov 23, 2021
Nov 23, 2021 at 10:28 PM UTC
a cultivation
is it love or the parasite ? my pilot bulk                       aims for relief        it pursues this via                             your romantic correction in public arena                   a library stair                     (i never prior encountered you) one step as foreigner         the approach and upon a swift internal pendulum i make witless incisions hurried mended sentences directed stuns invasive i demand the compromise                   of your company hastily push at boundaries and you're not so accommodating                                                  but on a further occasion same building we exchange a battering of conversation that    then        matures            into barter-like use of language despite my harassments   a civil cultivation is unearthed tongue within this intelligence effort i lessen loosen my demanding appearance disregard my dignity      a skin suit about the ankles you're open in a vein of similarity    you flesh out your own controls we've progressed quickly there's an aped conduct                  and flashing attitudes this time we share table space a nearby café we have become quite unmanned     repeated meet ups upon humours we adjust small habits     and shake on perceptions where we overlap it becomes    more an overlay of rationalities         than resented promises fast time passes and i move into your living space                                   i pick a wildflower                                                                    and put it in the tiny vase on your dining table we agree on its colour                                               we agree on a book to make our bible material we agree on the pitch of the tinnitus we share the clothes i am to wear i switch to your diet and you cease taking medications we sleep on your lawn like children and bring down the night sky for comfort during the day we wear our sleep               like a lubrication for our chores and go about our productivity               in genuine partnership yet i feel we're just out of reach             of some dark harm we are an excellent sample pair it is all vital we grow stronger the more we quiz it recycling our ********** refine our agreements await further impulses and come closer to plug so.. do we please love       or simply indulge a parasite ?
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77
it is the scene that comes to one that opens its palms like a child might open its own in delight the fingered-bamboo on slender arms and the smooth waters flowing like a sage’s long white hair; and the rocks like pauses and the terrain sliding, gliding down not to be outdone by the river that flows – it is the scene that comes to one and one must come to it, and one observes… one comes with no preconceptions and without creed and theology one leaves one’s history and expectations and conditioning and one sees what is before one… to this one does not bring one’s opinions and one’s past and emotions and one’s beliefs and one’s dogma - for to observe is to see, not to overlay like laying carpets on mud or marble tiles on the mansion floor… one observes, one sees what is before one and from this one does not take opinions and memories and revelations and dogma and emotions and similes and metaphors …one observes, one sees… …everything else is conditioning, structure and formation…
0
Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 8:04 AM UTC
observing bamboo
*blood stains her canvas    congealed crusts, fresh streaks frayed corners and edges    the tattered toll of pain, loss how best to depict my love on her    overlay her with beauty to develop a patina of care over time    reduce her suffering to pentimento her landscape shifts constantly    with the quality of her light I must blend to the shade of her mood    her want...her need work from the palette of my heart    in the spectrum of my love paint her in courted color    every tone of every hue brush her being with my caress    creatively styled to her moment pastel tenderness...primary strength    bold strokes of passion...bright splashes of spontaneity to portray for her a frameless existence    of unlimited intimacy and peace but she does not rest on my easel    and I am merely dreaming of the art of love*
0
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 12:56 PM UTC
Montmartre
Plan to kiss no one without secret intent. Plan to kiss no one without meticulous method Plan to kiss no one without a hidden plan. Now You know Who you are. To think I should speak with you Is pessimist-dismissed So quickly The pen drops Before the thought Crosses The multiverse Mind Contained In paper Cranes. To think you would want To want To talk to me Is so ridiculous So out-there So cover-up Alien-conspiracy-theory Secret-society Cryptic-code Cartography. The phonetic Background Of my throat Shuts down Shuts up. Vowels in my stomach Bunch. Curves Of your face Shadows of your mind Overlay mine To camouflage. I could And would love you, Not ten fathoms But deep enough So We are suspended where light waves Cannot bend Breaking on coral Breaking on coma Waking up sleeping sand.
0
May 28, 2012
May 28, 2012 at 2:39 PM UTC
You Wouldn't
Pained words Heard at night, Words rewind Replay Repeat, overlay Become twisted In the middle of the night. Pained words Twisted in the morning Heard, back turned, Nothing but empty tears Pained words Unshared Interested and Harmless.
0
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 6:54 PM UTC
Pained words
“I’m still in awe of words” (in life, as in poetry, timing is everything) objects, humans, surprise and interrupt our daily modalities, knocking us, yo! to the ground, we, pounding it, for the word void appears, the frustration of incapacity incarcerating, accompanied by the loudest silenced scream, of no poetry available, try again later! in life, as in poetry, timing is everything we walkabout, thinking of the scheduled eventualities, or the dates calendar-circled, though some questioned marked, in pencil inserted, will I be a mother, find me a husband, a human grander grandee, fit to be with me a noble progenitor of more than our generation, watching the sidewalk cracks for an inkling of when, on or about such and such an alteration, a seam undone, a stumbling, seeing a realization as we fall, hands extending, a notice of arrival, all needing reconnoitering, commemorating, a poem prepared, but none to no avail in life, as in poetry, timing is everything so we are in awe of words, so necessary, everybody knows, the awe in awesome, a description for the pixels encapsulates in I-phone photos, the where and the why of when, I was grinning like a stupid fool, the inability to deliver precisely when required the covering of an appropriate description, your words, use your words, will fail you spectacularly and so we remain awed, realizing in life, as in poetry, timing is everything but awesomely awesome word worlds, near and dear, held forever in scrapbooks, the literary overlay of the treasures of everyday life, are the still life of our longevity contextual, the celebratory, the unexpected losses, largest to smallest, in size order, kept fresh when you flip through those poems in dusty binders, in oversized sewing boxes, yellowing in concert with our eyes, graying with follicles of past pluperfect, recalling not just the when’s, but the more important,  now, the wherefore and whereupon, the words marking the conjunctions, recoding the recorded synapses firing sequentially, brain to fingers, the ah so of the poetry of lifetimes “I’m still in awe of words” (in life, as in poetry, timing is everything) <> Saturday September 21st 2019
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Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 1:31 PM UTC
“I’m still in awe of words” (in life, as in poetry, timing is everything)
“I’m still in awe of words” (in life, as in poetry, timing is everything) objects, humans, surprise and interrupt our daily modalities, knocking us, yo! to the ground, we, pounding it, for the word void appears, the frustration of incapacity incarcerating, accompanied by the loudest silenced scream, of no poetry available, try again later! in life, as in poetry, timing is everything we walkabout, thinking of the scheduled eventualities, or the dates calendar-circled, though some questioned marked, in pencil inserted, will I be a mother, find me a husband, a human grander grandee, fit to be with me a noble progenitor of more than our generation, watching the sidewalk cracks for an inkling of when, on or about such and such an alteration, a seam undone, a stumbling, seeing a realization as we fall, hands extending, a notice of arrival, all needing reconnoitering, commemorating, a poem prepared, but none to no avail in life, as in poetry, timing is everything so we are in awe of words, so necessary, everybody knows, the awe in awesome, a description for the pixels encapsulates in I-phone photos, the where and the why of when, I was grinning like a stupid fool, the inability to deliver precisely when required the covering of an appropriate description, your words, use your words, will fail you spectacularly and so we remain awed, realizing in life, as in poetry, timing is everything but awesomely awesome word worlds, near and dear, held forever in scrapbooks, the literary overlay of the treasures of everyday life, are the still life of our longevity contextual, the celebratory, the unexpected losses, largest to smallest, in size order, kept fresh when you flip through those poems in dusty binders, in oversized sewing boxes, yellowing in concert with our eyes, graying with follicles of past pluperfect, recalling not just the when’s, but the more important,  now, the wherefore and whereupon, the words marking the conjunctions, recoding the recorded synapses firing sequentially, brain to fingers, the ah so of the poetry of lifetimes “I’m still in awe of words” (in life, as in poetry, timing is everything) <> Saturday September 21st 2019
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44
I arrived into this world already overwhelmed unsteady, my eyes reflected deep pleading and worry, *"I'm not sure I'm ready, are you sweet mommy? Either way we're stuck with each other, best of luck,"* said I to my mother. I spent my childhood creating sanctuary in my world of make-believe so very often I would retreat to my inner realm of fantasy. I spent so much time just dancing around to my own self composed symphonic sounds I would improvise in my mind but if not lost in that endeavor I'd march about feeling clever making up stories to speak on the spot to read aloud from any book cause I did not care what the words might read I'd spin my own tale as I pleased Still in this way , I overlay a touch of magic into my days it makes it possible the supernatural ~ to coincide with what my eyes perceive what my mind believes to be reality. So when the night falls gently over me, I lay peacefully my body and the spirit of my soul departs easily into the realm of innocence where all that is has always been and always will be th'ineffable thought of infinity. When I wake to begin again I understand the master plan is co-creation in the dance of Life. Beautiful and tragic, but always magic nothing appears as it seems when everything is but a dream.
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Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 10:55 PM UTC
In the eyes of the beholder
My bones buzz Electric ecstasy Split into atoms Nanotechnology Plastic anatomy Ego death is visibility Vulnerable to all thoughts Universe displays Vision overlay Don't touch the body That once contained me. Speakers breaking House shaking I no longer feel the need to speak This vibration is all I need Music is the air I breathe I lie in silence Enlightened Form roads on my cheeks Carve into my jaw Slowly my lungs leak I hope to see you thaw I'm over me I'm over sleep. I'm learning to free my eyes To close my mind From crowded sights Florescent lights I'm consumed by night.
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Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 2:15 AM UTC
56765 - Artery Circuitboards
The importance of maintaining balance, in so much as sanity's building blocks. A personal reflection of your highs and lows, each helpful for creative growth. Some stick around, as others come in flux. Historically fixed in a similar headspace, their presence placed for short or long. We offer grace to those who help us, listen, laugh or object against the angst and tell us to our face. An overlay in the dreams we hold, plus those past mistakes which are often made. These altered goods, associated schoolmates, bands of buddies, compatriots in cousins, a smile from a chum. All state a claim in the memories of us aiming to belong, like everyone.
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Sep 13, 2021
Sep 13, 2021 at 2:28 PM UTC
Allies
[ G Major 3/4 time] Some nights I cant remember All the things that happened I never will get over All the mornings after How many loves of a lifetime Walked right out my front door While I lied-awake hopelessly Wanting for more Each notch in my bedpost Another scar on my heart Of the ten-thousand maybes Who turned out to be not They march right through me In an endless parade Insufficient remedies For someone I cant replace My pulse is the drum beat Our love was the war And their harmonies choke me As I hang by my Guitar chords I keep on playing you A song written for her It has a different title now The contents are undisturbed Violins whisper A dull aching pain And in a hundred "I love yous" I whispered her name Each moment of ecstasy That rips you away Leaves the empty shell of me Searching for an escape But her song keeps playing A phantom theme in my head While you reach your crescendo I'm just here in our bed My pulse is the drum beat Our love is the war And our harmony chokes me As I hang myself by my Emptiness chokes me As I hang myself and I Suffocate As I hang by my Guitar chords <instrumental - strings bridge> <modulated harmony and waltz... piano> <drums and acoustic front + choral vocal overlay "suffocate..."> Her pulse was my drum beat My love was the cost Cashed-in in self-sacrifice It was me that I lost In mirrors like pictures I can see who I was But I look so different now... I became "I am because" We shared our heartbeat Our love was the war and this song hangs Something unfinished I suffocate Trapped in our tapestry It's just me Left to hang by my guitar chords
0
Dec 23, 2011
Dec 23, 2011 at 1:08 AM UTC
Orchestral Movements in the Dark
[ G Major 3/4 time] Some nights I cant remember All the things that happened I never will get over All the mornings after How many loves of a lifetime Walked right out my front door While I lied-awake hopelessly Wanting for more Each notch in my bedpost Another scar on my heart Of the ten-thousand maybes Who turned out to be not They march right through me In an endless parade Insufficient remedies For someone I cant replace My pulse is the drum beat Our love was the war And their harmonies choke me As I hang by my Guitar chords I keep on playing you A song written for her It has a different title now The contents are undisturbed Violins whisper A dull aching pain And in a hundred "I love yous" I whispered her name Each moment of ecstasy That rips you away Leaves the empty shell of me Searching for an escape But her song keeps playing A phantom theme in my head While you reach your crescendo I'm just here in our bed My pulse is the drum beat Our love is the war And our harmony chokes me As I hang myself by my Emptiness chokes me As I hang myself and I Suffocate As I hang by my Guitar chords <instrumental - strings bridge> <modulated harmony and waltz... piano> <drums and acoustic front + choral vocal overlay "suffocate..."> Her pulse was my drum beat My love was the cost Cashed-in in self-sacrifice It was me that I lost In mirrors like pictures I can see who I was But I look so different now... I became "I am because" We shared our heartbeat Our love was the war and this song hangs Something unfinished I suffocate Trapped in our tapestry It's just me Left to hang by my guitar chords
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66
Women should never be allowed to shop at the corner store, where hot dogs, eggs, coffee gas and scratch offs can be bought all at the same time. Inevitably, on a day she is called to work for an hour and a half shift, which means it will take her twice as long to get ready to work as it will for her to be there. This messes up the entire day that she had planned for poetry and pretending she does not need or want a man to pump the gas and inflate tires. So she will go to the gas station completely distraught that the last 25 dollars before pay day and her only day off till next week will be completely ruined by someone with a dental appointment. That instead of eggs, hot dogs and coffee that few dollars will be spent instead on gas and scratch off's on the outside chance that that last twenty five will mean she will one day retire independent. Hoping that there will not be any sparks to blow her up as she spills gas all over the station concrete, while she is furiously scratching off the silver overlay of her future. Or maybe, sometimes we need a little "fuel" occasionally. to keep us fighting, dreaming and scratching for happiness, friendship or for those things and people we need to believe in.
0
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 10:13 PM UTC
Lottery
She asked me the strongest drug I had ever done, I responded with your name Not MDMA, LSD, or ******* You kept me up Intense heartbeat, face red, cheeks flush sweat pouring, teeth grinding, actions rushed… Bursts of color invade my visual receptors, the sights are fluid movements through the lens of a kaleidoscope. Music takes command of my limbs, now I’m putty in your hands You have your way and we dance. Left, right. Left and right. In and out. Breathe. I take another hit of you. Chemical energy circulates my veins chills crawl down my spine and ice overlay my lungs. I know I can’t get much higher but I’m addicted to my sins. I take another hit and breathe you in again. My eyes start to wiggle and roll towards the back of my head, I should’ve left a long time ago, before you killed me and left me for dead. Overdosed.
0
Apr 9, 2018
Apr 9, 2018 at 1:53 PM UTC
Euphoria
Gabrielle Union wore a gorgeous fall look in New York City while promoting her show, Being Mary Jane, on Tuesday. The 42-year-old looked like a vision in her fitted white Sophia Kah dress with crimson lace overlay, as she was spotted leaving Live With Kelly and Michael. The short-sleeved frock featured intricate detailing on the upper portion, while the bottom half was all white. The skintight dress, which showed off the Think Like a Man star's amazing body, fit her like a glove. The pop of color from the wine-colored lace added a bold touch to an otherwise minimal look. The Bring It On actress kept the bold vibes going by choosing shiny gold heels, which added a new dimension to the look. She added gold rings to compliment her similarly hued strappy heels with gray polished nails. The Being Mary Jane star wore her shoulder length dark hair loose and wavy. Opting for a more vampy makeup look, the starlet wore smokey eye shadow, glossy red lips and rosy cheeks. During her appearance on the morning show, the She's All That actress wore a more understated look, rocking gray slacks, a black top and bright pink heels as she spoke to Michael Strahan and guest host Ciara, who filled in for Kelly Ripa. The brunette is married to NBA star Dwayne Wade, who plays for the Miami Heat. The couple first met in 2009 and married in August 2014. Her husband has three sons: 13-year-old Zaire Blessing Dwayne, eight-year-old Zion Malachi Airamis and two-year-old Xavier Zechariah, from previous relationships. The 33-year-old athlete also raises his 13-year-old nephew Dahveon. On her show, she plays the character Mary Jane Paul, an on-camera reporter who has to juggle work, love and family. The third season of Being Mary Jane premieres on October 20th on BET. The starlet is also currently filming The Lion Guard, an animated TV series where she voices the character of Nala, set to premiere on the Disney Channel in 2016. She recently wrapped The Lion Guard: Return of the Roar TV movie, which premieres this November. read more:www.marieaustralia.com/sexy-formal-dresses www.marieaustralia.com/vintage-formal-dresses
0
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 2:18 AM UTC
Bring It On!
Gabrielle Union wore a gorgeous fall look in New York City while promoting her show, Being Mary Jane, on Tuesday. The 42-year-old looked like a vision in her fitted white Sophia Kah dress with crimson lace overlay, as she was spotted leaving Live With Kelly and Michael. The short-sleeved frock featured intricate detailing on the upper portion, while the bottom half was all white. The skintight dress, which showed off the Think Like a Man star's amazing body, fit her like a glove. The pop of color from the wine-colored lace added a bold touch to an otherwise minimal look. The Bring It On actress kept the bold vibes going by choosing shiny gold heels, which added a new dimension to the look. She added gold rings to compliment her similarly hued strappy heels with gray polished nails. The Being Mary Jane star wore her shoulder length dark hair loose and wavy. Opting for a more vampy makeup look, the starlet wore smokey eye shadow, glossy red lips and rosy cheeks. During her appearance on the morning show, the She's All That actress wore a more understated look, rocking gray slacks, a black top and bright pink heels as she spoke to Michael Strahan and guest host Ciara, who filled in for Kelly Ripa. The brunette is married to NBA star Dwayne Wade, who plays for the Miami Heat. The couple first met in 2009 and married in August 2014. Her husband has three sons: 13-year-old Zaire Blessing Dwayne, eight-year-old Zion Malachi Airamis and two-year-old Xavier Zechariah, from previous relationships. The 33-year-old athlete also raises his 13-year-old nephew Dahveon. On her show, she plays the character Mary Jane Paul, an on-camera reporter who has to juggle work, love and family. The third season of Being Mary Jane premieres on October 20th on BET. The starlet is also currently filming The Lion Guard, an animated TV series where she voices the character of Nala, set to premiere on the Disney Channel in 2016. She recently wrapped The Lion Guard: Return of the Roar TV movie, which premieres this November. read more:www.marieaustralia.com/sexy-formal-dresses www.marieaustralia.com/vintage-formal-dresses
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18
...There's tooth and nail, fetters... dead center the ring mastery of this sun. Morning ever after...mass epidemic of surfacing qualities. Ragged sparrows scraping frozen mud...December-ing the divide of years. From bend to expanse, the faint overlay that builds. As each footfall becomes self-contained, and in that containment, arrival...abidance.
0
Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 2:40 AM UTC
December-ing the Divide of Years
Never was a Walt sorta Kat, Though I do understand his works and his um desire which has a , distinct overlay into and onto my life, that **** But Ezra, oh Ezra Pound, See I never even read a lick of his words, but a Picture a dear and well, um, interesting situation friend possibly, we will get to that latter, but A friend Justin Williams did a picture in Art class of Ezra, a pointillism portrait. don't have the picture on this drive but here is the original picture he was copying and it is found here: titled "73: RICHARD AVEDON 1923-2004 Ezra Pound at the Home " https://www.liveauctioneers.com/item/1901663_richard-avedon-1923-2004-ezra-pound-at-the-home Now ever since I saw this photo of Ezra pound Ihaving a migraine, which we have in common , I just related, to what I saw, and it was far more than a black and white picture, I saw the hues and colors of a man who was truly troubled by a knowledge, and as "Jesus" Yeshua Immanuel said in the The Nag Hammadi Jesus said, "Let him who seeks continue seeking until he finds. When he finds, he will become troubled. When he becomes troubled, he will be astonished, and he will rule over the All." and this I understood in the anguish in the picture and a moment one is hard pressed to hide ones true pains. so a taste of his work, for today was the first time I have ever read it by choice of actually seeking it out. though this picture is my avatar on my OS system. funny how things are. ehh? A Girl - Poem by Ezra Pound The tree has entered my hands, The sap has ascended my arms, The tree has grown in my breast - Downward, The branches grow out of me, like arms. Tree you are, Moss you are, You are violets with wind above them. A child - so high - you are, And all this is folly to the world. Ezra Pound
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Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 5:03 PM UTC
Never was a Walt Whitman, sorta Kat, But Ezra,
Never was a Walt sorta Kat, Though I do understand his works and his um desire which has a , distinct overlay into and onto my life, that **** But Ezra, oh Ezra Pound, See I never even read a lick of his words, but a Picture a dear and well, um, interesting situation friend possibly, we will get to that latter, but A friend Justin Williams did a picture in Art class of Ezra, a pointillism portrait. don't have the picture on this drive but here is the original picture he was copying and it is found here: titled "73: RICHARD AVEDON 1923-2004 Ezra Pound at the Home " https://www.liveauctioneers.com/item/1901663_richard-avedon-1923-2004-ezra-pound-at-the-home Now ever since I saw this photo of Ezra pound Ihaving a migraine, which we have in common , I just related, to what I saw, and it was far more than a black and white picture, I saw the hues and colors of a man who was truly troubled by a knowledge, and as "Jesus" Yeshua Immanuel said in the The Nag Hammadi Jesus said, "Let him who seeks continue seeking until he finds. When he finds, he will become troubled. When he becomes troubled, he will be astonished, and he will rule over the All." and this I understood in the anguish in the picture and a moment one is hard pressed to hide ones true pains. so a taste of his work, for today was the first time I have ever read it by choice of actually seeking it out. though this picture is my avatar on my OS system. funny how things are. ehh? A Girl - Poem by Ezra Pound The tree has entered my hands, The sap has ascended my arms, The tree has grown in my breast - Downward, The branches grow out of me, like arms. Tree you are, Moss you are, You are violets with wind above them. A child - so high - you are, And all this is folly to the world. Ezra Pound
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18
-listen man, I got the internet, in my hand. There is just too much to think about, So true. Imagine having all the time in the world to try, and an ai to sort on my search criteria, -what would I have loved to know? outline history, done. overlay Protestant Bible timeline. overlay Parthian Empire etc. BTDT ad infinitum fun item Ai takes a rough draft life, and makes all its test phazes open book. To now. At the speed of that does not matter, cut to the after the chase, now, what matters?
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Apr 28, 2023
Apr 28, 2023 at 12:01 AM UTC
Shot from the lip
Don't want to hide long Lake flow of love in silence Ensnare tears in petals missed Let all writhing Because i'm still here in my silence The sky tells On the way of events Among the meshes of time The trail is also becoming obsolete story implied Made me choose to remain silent Stranded on Overlay story Don't you ever lie to me You have taken away the night - My night Thieves of my conscience..!
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Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 10:59 PM UTC
Thieves of my conscience..!
layer upon layer layer upon overlay multiples of subtraction fools of the oldest days sunshine stained blessed by attraction cooler than the coldest rain moonlit plain a growth flourished by ticks and tocks a love not concerned with any of these clocks.
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Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 2:43 PM UTC
everlasting
we were in bed that day when there was a midday twilight a daze crept over us delicate as a fast fog it was the feeling of floating a barely waking ecstasy an unreal ethereal delirium i cant describe it it was something like nothing ive ever felt before in the belly of our canopy bed in that forbidden flat on a forever day we laughed as she pressed her head up & pitched the draped overlay wearing it like a puffy white sombrero as the sun filtered through the linen cube glowed a yellow shade the two of us waiting weightless in this unearthly space a monster teepee on a cloud a sailboat in the sand it all could have been a heavenesque hallucination but for the fact that she asked if i felt it too i said i did after she confessed she had no words to describe it it was sublime too simple true & it left by night as we tucked in to watch movies a mini projector hovering images pressed against an endless cinema screen almost as radiant as our re-animation
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Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 11:47 PM UTC
wishless
Sleepless night Insomniatic overlay Dressed Coffee in hand Outside... Listening As nature announces The arrival Of a brand new day The night birds clear shrill Accentuating The whippoorwills petal soft coo Tree frogs keeping rhythm While the skyline Gently eases down The blackness With the gentlest of pastel blue From far far away Comes the hoarse throated honking Of a quickly approaching goose Announcing it was coming through No mistaken. I did believe The Happy song they are always making Until that moment As daylight broke the night With the sudden crack of dawn To my surprise this traveling troubadour Singing as it went winging by Turning out to be a swan Meting out a greeting Hello Hello Hello Continuing to fly While off in the waning distance Fading with a sad persistence Diminishing The swan song ...finishing With a distant cry goodbye... goodbye.... goodbye
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Jun 17, 2016
Jun 17, 2016 at 7:20 AM UTC
The mournful song of the new dawn
What greater gift could be given to me Than that of a canvas staring blankly Awaiting it's first brushstroke In a flash a slash of color across its face This potential has been placed before me Like a puzzle piece from my memory I will fill this void with my living energy I will compose music for your eyes to see I will write poetry for your heart to read visually The power in my hands to put pigment upon paper To portray a picture that depicts my inner nature It's a purely creative endeavor I pour myself into the paint Each masterpiece contains part of me In harmonious rhythm I stain to stimulate I dye to add drama I shade to give grace With an acrylic aesthetic A cosmetic elegance An oil overlay A washing watercolor The media is mine to design Each line to represent my life My gallery tells a story Ever changing and growing Forever framing and flowing To draft love in a sensitive showing Of my true self in painting
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Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 4:26 PM UTC
-Portrayal Of a Painter (for Anna)-