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"palter" poems
If you set out to scale a mountain It's best to go with self discipline When you reach the clouds, don't falter Don't stop and begin to palter You get false ideals of hopes and dreams Being able to unfold from the seams As if the clouds are your personal jinn And they can fill the void in between Your dreams and reality Just get back to actuality Reach the highest peak Find what you really seek Because it isn't down hiding in the clouds In short, quit dreaming Finish climbing the **** mountain
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Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 12:28 AM UTC
[Untitled]
I need not permission to resign from my physical self I can sit under the oaks and listen to their sense Shadow and raze out my earthly bane and exisence the flowers protest against discovery for their treatise are sooth and i will lay here for eternity with no ague or war accept their word I will harness myself with leavy quilts In this shining state of mental perfection Nirvana, I am intrenchant Sweet notes from ancient trees and young fawn with flower palter through wheat and into my soul we are all hand in hand
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Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 11:38 AM UTC
young fawn
Hereabouts was inearthed the grief of an infatuate; Beneath the moonlight and clinged by deception; Thou, one and only sol in the murkiness; Pour spilled, imbrued the prediction away from the windfall; Thou, who laughed there then shivered forsakenly? presumed a northwind that never tied up here; Was life span soundless as the unnaturalness of the ambiguity? conversed without confab, forsaken the anguish each one raindrops; Hasten the broken heart in the wake of thee; When silhouette remains anonymous, hence thou stand synonymous; thence it's tiring to imitate its fascination; how afflicts sweet taste of hyperbole from a guileless lip; Thou laud me, when thou stare me in emptiness; Thou palter me, when thou don't seek about my beauty; Thou vanished, when thou don't see amore anymore...
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Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 12:45 PM UTC
Thou
*re-enter macbeth,                                           re-enter macduff*... let's just keep it at that, i can't be bothered to rewrite verbatim... as i already said: for me shakespeare is macbeth alone...     i have no pity or heart alone, to mind having to cite the other plays as worth settling a guise of the conclusive genius.... i just kept myself encrusted in macbeth, and in macbeth alone, to steer from the pompous regurgitations of future generations... to keep a scorn, a fraction of shakespeare's "lost" oeuvre, this sort of "escapism"? keeps the artist to be most intact... people ought to know: the artist is finicky, & thereby picky... and therefore expects this audience to be likewise: truant of the oeuvre -      while the fan of a certain work: the point: within reminder of an undertaking: atheism; better: *accursed be that tongue that tells me so,          for it hath cow'd my better part of man: and be these juggling fiends no more believ'd,      that palter with us in a double sense; that keep the word of promise to our ear,     and break it in our hope.* i'll keep my word, and recite no more.
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Aug 29, 2017
Aug 29, 2017 at 7:47 PM UTC
act v, scene vii (macbeth)
Hark! What a feeling! For thou hath introduced Free from burden Guilt misting into nether Bray out! But softly, this feeling is dateless No more drops of sorrow and woe From whence we came New beginnings arise Dost thou wish to come with me? Hast thou the courage to push through? I gage to thee new feelings of old Grace for grace Nevermore any gull Nevermore leasing or palter I am at your hip I am receiving of thee Alas the day hath come For better feelings and truth From now onto the perpetual wink. I am yours
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Mar 2, 2020
Mar 2, 2020 at 4:24 PM UTC
Healing
Like the snowball first thrown in the bitter chilled winter days Is the same as my grandma opening her eyes for the first time and in her mother's arms she lays. Later as the years pass and love blossoms in her heart My grandmother's life with her own family is about to start Now she is like the first snowman built standing ready to guard her home To stay there to protect and never to roam But as time sweeps by so does her appearance she begins to melt The meteorologist say it won't snow anytime soon and day by day she will alter   They try to give her more pills to delay her death but they try to conceal it with their palter Soon my snowman will just be another puddle licked up the earth But I will always remember my snowman's worth
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Apr 20, 2018
Apr 20, 2018 at 11:44 AM UTC
My Grandma