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"overshadowed" poems
Go on with haste and fly through this undawning memory of love, What is the moon looking up at, perhaps a dance of pulsar stars ? What is the sun looking down at, perhaps the life growing from light? An eternal sinner wanders under their light, with no aim, no goal, All he carries shall be the pride in his heart, with undying love burning as bright as a hyper nova in the nearby young nightsky, Lingering sadness seeps it's way through, to the surface of the moon, forever to be bound in an orbit, overshadowed, shining in lesser light, Yet does it oversee, what beauty it brings to the night, or what it would be if darkness reigned supreme without it and the stars to rise? Enlighting the darkest of nights for us, forgotten it keeps up his duty, For maybe, even if just one is touched by his luminosity it would be enough to keep going, until the time comes to greet the break of dawn The milkyway alike a river of stars, each with their own story to tell, Stars stand with their secret hidden, an orbital parent to many planets The sky is the eternity in a land of pure fantasy and hope after all, A dream which knows no death till its termination draws near, But isn't waking up the commencement of something far greater ? ~ Umi
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Mar 24, 2018
Mar 24, 2018 at 12:07 PM UTC
Lunar Tear
Africa, Oh Africa! Africa, Oh Africa! My Motherland, Why not take pride in who you are? When you converse, You use the language of the West. The offspring of the same parents, And still use the language of the West. Your own children try to distance themselves and dress and talk like Those from the West. Your airwaves are filled with music, Fast beats, foul language and heavy metal from the West. Even the food you eat All processed and purchased From the West. Your fields are dry. You laugh at traditional foods and ceremonies. You have forgotten who you are. Your heritage cries out From the depths of the tombs you're filling up with immorality and your self-destructive ways. You despise who are, You ridicule who you are, You try so hard to change Who you are Your heroes and comrades In entertainment and politics In the community, the society Have been overshadowed By those from the West. Remember them, Revere them, More so alive than after death. Resurrect Ubuntu, Show a little compassion For a fellow who needs it. Stop the hate, tribalism And racism. This path of destruction Will get you nowhere. Let peace rule in the Motherland. Respect your elders, Salute the teachers Who try to lead your youth In the right direction. Teach your children well Violence is not the way The pen is still mightier Than the sword Eradicate illiteracy End child labour and Marriages. Honour, love and protect Your women and children. They will give you respect and happiness in return. Follow the footprints Of your forebears. Live in harmony with Yourself. Africa, Oh Africa! Africa, Oh Africa! Take note Before it's too late!
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Jun 19, 2017
Jun 19, 2017 at 6:41 AM UTC
Africa, oh Africa
Africa, Oh Africa! Africa, Oh Africa! My Motherland, Why not take pride in who you are? When you converse, You use the language of the West. The offspring of the same parents, And still use the language of the West. Your own children try to distance themselves and dress and talk like Those from the West. Your airwaves are filled with music, Fast beats, foul language and heavy metal from the West. Even the food you eat All processed and purchased From the West. Your fields are dry. You laugh at traditional foods and ceremonies. You have forgotten who you are. Your heritage cries out From the depths of the tombs you're filling up with immorality and your self-destructive ways. You despise who are, You ridicule who you are, You try so hard to change Who you are Your heroes and comrades In entertainment and politics In the community, the society Have been overshadowed By those from the West. Remember them, Revere them, More so alive than after death. Resurrect Ubuntu, Show a little compassion For a fellow who needs it. Stop the hate, tribalism And racism. This path of destruction Will get you nowhere. Let peace rule in the Motherland. Respect your elders, Salute the teachers Who try to lead your youth In the right direction. Teach your children well Violence is not the way The pen is still mightier Than the sword Eradicate illiteracy End child labour and Marriages. Honour, love and protect Your women and children. They will give you respect and happiness in return. Follow the footprints Of your forebears. Live in harmony with Yourself. Africa, Oh Africa! Africa, Oh Africa! Take note Before it's too late!
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68
I will praise You for all that You are For You are more than everything I will praise You regardless of what I feel For this is bigger than emotions I will praise You no matter who’s watching For You are my song, and can’t be quieted I will praise You for all of my days For my day,my years,my life belongs to You I will praise You early in the morning For You have given me a brand new hope I will praise You in the darkest of nights For Your light will never be overshadowed I will praise You when my heart is broken For You are the healer of wounds I will praise You when I reach higher heights For without You I am lower than low I will praise You for every good thing For that simply means that it came from You I will praise You for every grieving trial For if I made it through it only means I’m stronger I will praise You for every good friend in my life For it only means for each friend put in my life,You have thought of me I will praise You for my family For You love me enough, not to leave me alone I will praise you for every smile and laugh that comes from my lips For it is only the joy of Your Salvation that makes me happy I will praise You for every tear, and broken heart For it is then that I feel Your comfort the most I will praise You for my every breath For it means that You have a purpose and hope for me I will praise You even in my death For it means at last I can be with you I will praise You no matter what. For You are everything, My life, my being, my comfort, my strength, my love… My God.
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Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 6:42 AM UTC
I will praise You, My Psalm
I will praise You for all that You are For You are more than everything I will praise You regardless of what I feel For this is bigger than emotions I will praise You no matter who’s watching For You are my song, and can’t be quieted I will praise You for all of my days For my day,my years,my life belongs to You I will praise You early in the morning For You have given me a brand new hope I will praise You in the darkest of nights For Your light will never be overshadowed I will praise You when my heart is broken For You are the healer of wounds I will praise You when I reach higher heights For without You I am lower than low I will praise You for every good thing For that simply means that it came from You I will praise You for every grieving trial For if I made it through it only means I’m stronger I will praise You for every good friend in my life For it only means for each friend put in my life,You have thought of me I will praise You for my family For You love me enough, not to leave me alone I will praise you for every smile and laugh that comes from my lips For it is only the joy of Your Salvation that makes me happy I will praise You for every tear, and broken heart For it is then that I feel Your comfort the most I will praise You for my every breath For it means that You have a purpose and hope for me I will praise You even in my death For it means at last I can be with you I will praise You no matter what. For You are everything, My life, my being, my comfort, my strength, my love… My God.
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A presence that's physically not there. Though it's lurking pretty much everywhere. It's harmless, they say. But I don't want them to stay. Being overshadowed is scary. And seeing the shadows of the past is painful to me. Though they're physically not here, their shadows remained. Trapping me inside an invisible cage of fear.
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Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 9:23 AM UTC
Shadows
Whenever  I am not seeing you Lethal void is my heart Like the monolithic art Of a sculptor; Like the figures of Mona Lisa, I tried to engrave you Again and again in my heart And rehearsed you many times In my memories. To reconstitute Your beautiful image Inside of my mind I behold you thousand times, Yet all loving and languishing Nothing could be captured To match your perfection As you were seen in person Nor could be remembered To your many dimensional figure Of youth unclaimed. You are just beautiful but demure, Seductive but unrevealing A love that slips down Near your lips were forbidden? And be never told? Like two balsam flowers unfold Opening from their buds, Your eyelids are open wide. Like two bees ******* honey My eyes were seeking yours To ferret out the secret Of your true love and desires; Neither did they come out Nor did they flutter And never reached out My beehive safely. Seeking out for your true love In your eyes, in your lips, Cheeks and chin far and near, Everywhere  all over you, Looking at you all the time. You are open to interpretation Of your true intention Of your love and desires Like the secret smiles Of Mona Lisa. Until you make confession Of your true love, I will behold you thousand times, You are just beautiful but demure Looking for you all the time. You make me dream about you While in my sleep or I am awake. My discrete memories Are overshadowed by time, I cannot fight with my feelings Whenever  I am not seeing you, Lethal void is my heart, Come and meet me in person!
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Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 4:17 PM UTC
Behold You Thousand Times
Whenever  I am not seeing you Lethal void is my heart Like the monolithic art Of a sculptor; Like the figures of Mona Lisa, I tried to engrave you Again and again in my heart And rehearsed you many times In my memories. To reconstitute Your beautiful image Inside of my mind I behold you thousand times, Yet all loving and languishing Nothing could be captured To match your perfection As you were seen in person Nor could be remembered To your many dimensional figure Of youth unclaimed. You are just beautiful but demure, Seductive but unrevealing A love that slips down Near your lips were forbidden? And be never told? Like two balsam flowers unfold Opening from their buds, Your eyelids are open wide. Like two bees ******* honey My eyes were seeking yours To ferret out the secret Of your true love and desires; Neither did they come out Nor did they flutter And never reached out My beehive safely. Seeking out for your true love In your eyes, in your lips, Cheeks and chin far and near, Everywhere  all over you, Looking at you all the time. You are open to interpretation Of your true intention Of your love and desires Like the secret smiles Of Mona Lisa. Until you make confession Of your true love, I will behold you thousand times, You are just beautiful but demure Looking for you all the time. You make me dream about you While in my sleep or I am awake. My discrete memories Are overshadowed by time, I cannot fight with my feelings Whenever  I am not seeing you, Lethal void is my heart, Come and meet me in person!
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Peoples’ lives are dying in consistency; Greed in their pedestal has corrupted this world’s societies. A fruitful opportunity, a gold rush was encountered! Underlying the main ambition of many unfortunate ambitious desires.    Persistently seeking an object of materiality, Children have become contracted to labor endlessly till mortality. The corporate pose has overshadowed humanity, Predetermining existence through living in a vision of obscurity.    Freedom has evolved in many attaining their dreams, Yet, failing to realize their limits in overstepping boundaries. Morality has been compromised to new opportunities. Ultimately, corrupting one’s essence in living spiritually.    We have eluded to perceive the subtle communication they have established you see. Projecting honesty while planting a seed, they enrich themselves invulnerably. Enabled through the loophole of ignorance attracted by social mediocrity, Revealing a battle between each other secretly disguised as insecurity.    Asking how do I seek success, freedom, and happiness endlessly. Indubitably, the answer relies inside, secreting awareness internally. Discovering that the war begins within may end the violence indeed. Extinguishing eternal destruction of the world through peace and harmony.    By: Michael M. De La Fuente
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May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 7:47 PM UTC
Greed
Where the grapes you eat are red and green But the ones you draw are purple Where you love your parents with all of your heart But pretend you’re an orphan when you play with friends Where the monsters that lurk in closets and under beds Can be destroyed by the light of day Where a stinging, aching cut or bruise Can be healed by a kiss Where a girl can transform into a fairy princess By slipping on a voluminous pink tutu Where a boy becomes a conquering hero By arming himself with an intimidating roll of wrapping paper Where a slightly unkempt yard Becomes a jungle full of tigers and serpents Where an in ground pool Becomes an ocean whose depths must be explored Where winter Is a season for snowmen and presents Where summer Is a season for ice cream and beaches Where Mommy Is the best chef, nurse, and storyteller Where Daddy Is the great protector, hug giver, and handyman Where science has no bearing Because rainbows and lightning come from magic Where logic doesn’t make sense Because the powers of love and fantasy are illogical And there is no place for suffering Because pain is overshadowed by innocence
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Feb 26, 2012
Feb 26, 2012 at 7:01 PM UTC
The Innocence of Youth
That shooting star, Loved the earth so much that it crashed right into it, burning away in passion, lethal, poisonous passion, to be with what it really wanted, It cut through the darkness with our hopes, with our deepest wishes, Before it vanished, like a long lost dream, or a overshadowed memory As time ticks on, reality and illusion melt together, sharing a heart, That too is a sign of death, as each lost its meaning by just doing this, In order to heal my aching chest, I too must be to death in sweet love, So I will not lose to anyone, daling, after all, once you give another a home within your heart, a part, yet small dies and fades into shadows I know I am not alone, because I am reaching out for your love, dear A last remote of lonesome fear, engaging the thought of losing what you hold so dear, is what makes it morbid, burning even hotter now, But a fire burns out faster, the higher it reaches, so be very cautious, Envy is for love the metamorphosis to turn into pure fury or hate, A ****** devotion to be the only one your darling ever will desire, As you fall, to death in love ~ Umi
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Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 6:00 PM UTC
To death in Love
may the way that gives way to this accord of may be in awe of truth and not the fruits of disarray I shall be meditating upon the roads travelled and many discoveries gather that I have unravelled I shall curl my high excitements and misguided ambitions to unfurl what the calls of the wise unfurl and admonish In the mist amidst the tricking twists of fits and false gists, may I hold up fists that will seize to desist and delete the disease of fallacy in curtailed wit In the shadows dark, some pale may I not fade into the tales of lies and manipulative games In the guise of dames so modern and fabulously inclined to fame, may I guage and carry my animosity into the mystery of my identity where only the genuine and real can relate In the encounters with material and all that deters from the mystic and ethereal, I hope to remember the real surreal to surmise the reels of fantasy thrills in graphic frills and euphonic trills However the gigantic systems of the world in money, greed, vanity or lust, may doctor sickness into the souls of the lost and weak: may my heart remain meek and my vision bright and led by the lens of the soul.... With or without I pray not as a religious pilgrim but a sage seeking neverending Light... ever the more grateful, harnessing the grapes of creation, worshiping a servant's code in humility. hustling about this rash hassle of life overshadowed by pyramids and castles remaining true to the cause even when temptation is endlessly bustling about remember remember the hustle when you were down and out without
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Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 1:48 AM UTC
a hustler's prayer
may the way that gives way to this accord of may be in awe of truth and not the fruits of disarray I shall be meditating upon the roads travelled and many discoveries gather that I have unravelled I shall curl my high excitements and misguided ambitions to unfurl what the calls of the wise unfurl and admonish In the mist amidst the tricking twists of fits and false gists, may I hold up fists that will seize to desist and delete the disease of fallacy in curtailed wit In the shadows dark, some pale may I not fade into the tales of lies and manipulative games In the guise of dames so modern and fabulously inclined to fame, may I guage and carry my animosity into the mystery of my identity where only the genuine and real can relate In the encounters with material and all that deters from the mystic and ethereal, I hope to remember the real surreal to surmise the reels of fantasy thrills in graphic frills and euphonic trills However the gigantic systems of the world in money, greed, vanity or lust, may doctor sickness into the souls of the lost and weak: may my heart remain meek and my vision bright and led by the lens of the soul.... With or without I pray not as a religious pilgrim but a sage seeking neverending Light... ever the more grateful, harnessing the grapes of creation, worshiping a servant's code in humility. hustling about this rash hassle of life overshadowed by pyramids and castles remaining true to the cause even when temptation is endlessly bustling about remember remember the hustle when you were down and out without
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It's a nightmare Being the burnt out Shooting star Replaced by the light Of a full moon It's a nightmare Being hidden underneath Clouds and overcast skies Replaced by angel eyes That makes you swoon It's a nightmare Being darkened By nights that glow Replaced by a shooting star Brighter than you ever were It's a nightmare Being overshadowed By dreams of the sun Replaced by love, Hope, joy, life... with her
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Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 10:58 PM UTC
A Nightmare
Lavender & Honey You know the age old question: If you were a drink What would you be? I must be alcoholic. My highs and lows are so extreme. And it seems i've been transforming A lot of good little ****** girls Into blood lusting sirens As of late. I would come in a tall glass Brimming with lavender & honey. Honey is usually sweet, But sometimes Can be overshadowed in bitter. And much like nectar I didn't care for myself as a child. Lavender Because I try to be soothing And envelop you in love You can tell me of your pain & fears And I will hold them closer than my own That's what lavender is for, you see. Comfort. I suppose I could have A hint of bergamot as well. Though I swear i'm not pretentious. I'm just trying to make things Interesting. So what do you think? If I was a drink. Would you drink me?
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Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 12:51 PM UTC
A Beautiful Woman Passed This To Me In A Tea Shop, After Reading My Poetry.
dear western society, no one cares for the peasant who provides the pheasant for the royal table - but when the pheasant isn't there - the royal orchestra cries out: where's the pheasant! where's the pheasant! as if both pheasant and peasant were alike... indeed, the peasant isn't there to provide the pheasant for the feast- and with such vitriol you proudly say: once these roaming stars that go against all reason in cosmology disappear, you'll know that i was here - you'll know - perhaps the pyramids were only overshadowed by the Eiffel tower, but many more pyramids were mentally tattooed into the minds of men - and rose far greater and were more harder to overcome that man took to climbing Everest - stone by stone his legs encountered a new form of laying brick-on-brick - for if western society deems me mad to purge the old hopes of colonial rule - then i have already chastised my body to have no heart, and let it be carried on course toward Iran or Afghanistan - and there entombed - i hope Western society loves its humour as much as it loves it's panic and paranoia and picnics of waiting for the far right to wake up - and this liberal-leftist mush of kind words to be shoved into Disneyland of other fantasia. yours sincerely,                              Vermin.
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Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 10:12 PM UTC
The eight pyramids of Tibet
Technology: how I love you and loathe you in the same breath your phonic ears listening out for a babble of distress from a childs vest sleeping soundly in the next room your ten tentacle arms purge my words and shelter emotions across vast distances for long lost friends to find comfort in 140 characters your innovations are the respirator the breathing lungs the beating heart the bionic limbs that help without want to walk again if only you could just once guess my words correctly just once is all I ask I invited that girl for a pint not a riot and the black berry ripens in the east is now an improvised IED Technology: will you ever be perfect? or will you always be evolving how will you know that you have not stepped back to be overshadowed by an ape punching numbers searching for Shots and finding Pints in the middle of a dusty Riot
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Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 11:31 AM UTC
Shot Pint Riot
A circuit land, Overshadowed by late, orange, blooms. Tough powers tower high, Mirroring fear to passersby. Forest rich with opportunity, Potential plots for growth, Short showers bear us fruits, Of evermore enriching schemes. Spikes of hopes, dreams and wonders, Base levels of lost sympathies, Crying wounds of hungry symphonies, Howls of jeer, malice, and thunder. A shattered system holds us together, A web void of its structure, and spider, Leadership is not without its tethers, Binding back what was once deep. Inside those who not heed, Of the instincts that lead to their greed We need you dreamers, to help us gaze And see the stars again, through that lamp lit haze.
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Jun 1, 2012
Jun 1, 2012 at 11:22 AM UTC
GTA Glow
From the womb of the night Births the Sun , Admist the wails of rays and light Overshadowed in might the night Slips away in amazing grace And in good graces goes   The last fleeting breath of our last night's dreams The epimonic clatter We hear year after year "Goodmorning to all far and near"
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Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 8:37 PM UTC
Birth of Sun
Just two Bananas, And a flower. Dripping sweet thick nectar, Hidden between the supple Banana boughs, The soft Petals cushioned in a dark web. The twin boughs give way to the tongue, That reaches in below the stigma, For a lick of the now dripping sweet, To and fro for more. Just two Bananas, Covered by the thin leaves of chlorophyll, Blowing away in the wind of a touch, The two stick out for a sensational caress, Just two Bananas, And a flower. United in pleasure Of the tongue, And the hand, Moaning the Banana tree for more, Crying sweet tears, Moving in the direction of the eager wind, Engulfed by a groan, And overshadowed by Passion, Just two sweet Bananas, And a Flower.
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Feb 16, 2012
Feb 16, 2012 at 3:16 AM UTC
Just Two Bananas
Yesterday, Tender pursuits Ordered by shortened expression And personal amusement. Pleasure was channeled by uncanny imagination. Ignorance was developed with years of sheltered nurture. Endeavors were focused Through heartened dreams Waiting eternities to age. Today, Life is starved of dignity, Lead by the breath of humanity, And trailed by my past. Kindness overshadowed by needless mockery. Confidence diminished Through thoughtless faults. Purity saturated with uncertain willingness. Competence choked from the flairs of society. Tomorrow, Independence is a necessity Steered by Today, Speckled by yesterday. Motivation should dictate my verdicts, And challenge perils. Agonies lifted Through sanguinity Virtue grown Only through praise From the satisfaction of many. Yesterday, today, tomorrow Immersed in today Is the root of my future.
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Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 9:41 AM UTC
Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow...
She laughs, he smiles. The black forest taste he could only taste at the peak of light beams Her laugh seems similar, quite similar. Her haha's outcasted the glooms and dooms Just as the black forest melted on his taste buds when sun rays streaked upon his shoulder blades. She cracked a joke, he laughs and nods Intellectual is what they might say A brainy maniac she is, who could co-host a sitcom His Friday nights would now only be filled with her wits Replacing all the beers and stouts for a while His once bumpy and rocky throat is nil compared to the highly raised cheekbones visible during a good laugh But one day she cried. The guilt he carries overshadowed his sympathy. Her big swollen eyes Her pinkish and warm face which was covered in dribble Hadn't he known? All those time he made somersaults, he was drown deep below He could breakthrough, but was too mesmerized by the mermaid's blinking fishtail and scaly skin. And she saved him From being turned into a merman Only then he was back to square one Where her laughters, her jokes and her sobs are actually his sugar crush, his Gatsby gold As always, she was after all, his soul saver.
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Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 9:48 AM UTC
Mermaids and Fishtails
at the break of the dawn the dusk dawned, ***** overshadowed, and devoured​ the golden splendour of the morning. trees of darkness appear from the silhouettes of the sky, skedaddling beyond the eyes, destroying the visage of the holy sun and the dawn breaks through with the offering of a thousand sacrifices consuming the deep darkness, rolling sapphires​ into emerald with the light of a gold-diamond.
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Jan 19, 2019
Jan 19, 2019 at 3:02 AM UTC
breakthrough
To share with You, this great divide And not to grieve at the miles I want to hold You in my arms tonight But I know that time will be a while I could say that the dreams are better But that defies intelligence Nothing compares to when we lie together The memories overshadowed by the sense Every night I wish You here Though here, You cannot be Yet now I live without fear That You’re so far away from me This is a way of Love in Our rough season This side of madness, the other side of reason
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May 10, 2010
May 10, 2010 at 7:25 PM UTC
Rough Weather
In seeps life’s deeply rich hypnotic alluring tune. Throngs of pitch tickled with powerful eminent bass. Crisp sounds displayed, tweaked, collaged, and delectably consumed. Stretching our ear’s vast hungering palette to please. Vibrations lead to the tingling mind’s inevitable response. Guiding the body through its purity of sound. Hums and hisses overshadowed by the DJ’s track. Lasers lights dance over the vast sweating fans. The floor is a rhythmic sea of flesh. Dance steps balanced by the DJ’s meticulous craft. Tears of joy creep upon the dancers faces. As bodies succumb to the vibrant enchanting mix. This truly is an ideal moment of bliss. Having one’s mind captured by a DJ’s tryst. The mind thrives forever from their musical kiss. As fans dance the night, refusing to miss.
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Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 9:27 PM UTC
A DJ's Tryst
I don't want to be another guy who writes love sick poems about the girl he loves Why can't I just be? Why can't I just think? They become the same old song The same old line after line With broken-hearted solemnity overshadowed by immaturity I will now become a man that no longer waits in the dark for someone to bring me a light I will make my own light I will make my own breaks I will fight for what I want I will live with how it ends Or I will smile when it lasts I will face what I want and I will let it be known how I feel without ambiguity or veils I will face my fears And I will forget they exist If love ends forever Then forever is not for me Today I am a man, naked and known
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Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 3:42 AM UTC
Naked and Known
After a satisfying fried catfish dinner with collards and a sweet potato I went for a stroll in the nearby plaza I entered the Publix with a sweet treat on my mind And there I saw the watermelon woman that made my mouth water instead She was cutting up samples to be passed out while wearing a sliced watermelon costume Long black hair rested on one of her shoulders A small scar on the side of her mouth was noticeable, but it was completely overshadowed by her gaze Our eyes met, and I was locked in I smiled softly in reaction to the silliness of the dichotomy between the woman and the watermelon A pineapple would've suited her much better She responded to me by giving her own slightly nervous smile She offered me a sample, which I took then she began to speak to me with her chin pointed down towards the table Her eyes never broke contact with mine "They're two for one today. Really good too. You should buy some." "Have you tried it?" "No, but I can tell. I can smell it." How I'd love to try her out Her body language said that she was self-conscious, insecure Yet her eyes told me that she was a lioness ready to be dominated I left the store empty handed A missed opportunity on my part It's been a while since I've done any farm work but if I see the watermelon woman again I'll plant seeds
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May 13, 2019
May 13, 2019 at 7:52 PM UTC
Watermelon Woman
The sky’s a light carnelian’s shade and, as the brightness starts to fade, from carnelian to carmine he turns, too- soft to vivid tones of the hue. Looks into the ‘windows to my soul,’ (‘windows to one’s soul’ he called them) The intensity nearly swallows me whole- his windows a pair of solitary gems. Eyes the colour that fire should be, a fury to turn flames green with envy. So as carnelian turns to carmine and the heavens light up with his glow, a firefly’s brightness is overshadowed, but the yellow is whitened down in snow A lone, saphhired rhododendron in full bloom unaware of its death in a pluck so soon The furious ball of rage sets and us (three!) need to return -a lingering gaze for a moment too long, cheeks of crimson and burn! For too long have we tarried, our hours have wasted the day Find no longer a reason nor any excuse to stay Peer over the edge a last time (indecision, in control) At the vast expanse of cerulean, sublime (pause to contemplate my goal) Tucks the blooming rhod’ between a lock and an ear, breathes, “it looks prettier still here,” for another second holds ( ) near and in parting’s ‘sweet sorrow’ starts to disappear A gunshot echoing, a resounding sound, as he turns away from the mead’. His body slowly hits the ground, and I know I’ve killed him dead. For the first time, a lamenting tear’s grace rolls down one side of my face and all I see is red. A gunshot, a second time, lying in bed, brow, hair, pillow- all soaked in red.
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Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 1:47 PM UTC
Reds
The sky’s a light carnelian’s shade and, as the brightness starts to fade, from carnelian to carmine he turns, too- soft to vivid tones of the hue. Looks into the ‘windows to my soul,’ (‘windows to one’s soul’ he called them) The intensity nearly swallows me whole- his windows a pair of solitary gems. Eyes the colour that fire should be, a fury to turn flames green with envy. So as carnelian turns to carmine and the heavens light up with his glow, a firefly’s brightness is overshadowed, but the yellow is whitened down in snow A lone, saphhired rhododendron in full bloom unaware of its death in a pluck so soon The furious ball of rage sets and us (three!) need to return -a lingering gaze for a moment too long, cheeks of crimson and burn! For too long have we tarried, our hours have wasted the day Find no longer a reason nor any excuse to stay Peer over the edge a last time (indecision, in control) At the vast expanse of cerulean, sublime (pause to contemplate my goal) Tucks the blooming rhod’ between a lock and an ear, breathes, “it looks prettier still here,” for another second holds ( ) near and in parting’s ‘sweet sorrow’ starts to disappear A gunshot echoing, a resounding sound, as he turns away from the mead’. His body slowly hits the ground, and I know I’ve killed him dead. For the first time, a lamenting tear’s grace rolls down one side of my face and all I see is red. A gunshot, a second time, lying in bed, brow, hair, pillow- all soaked in red.
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