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"perfections" poems
Words swathe me in calm, Sentences, paragraphs that soothe. Viridian verbs burst through the grey, Taunting me into action- Seducing me into a delicious dance- Gypsy girl, swing your sentences my way! Turquoise adjectives wrap around my wounds, Embracing my flaws and perfections. Rough olive skin; somber caesious eyes- Gypsy girl, with amaranthine scars. I drape myself over sienna nouns, Steadfast, supporting me proper, improper, always. Paper, songs, tree, sky, love, Jami Lee- Gypsy girl, use your words correctly! Each turn of a page lures me deeper- Each spoken rhyme embraces me close- Jami Lee, sweet little girl, get your head out of the clouds, And your nose out of a book!
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Oct 13, 2012
Oct 13, 2012 at 9:23 AM UTC
Words, Sentences, Paragraphs... Infinity.
This world was built on a foundation of perfection No weight lies upon our shoulders Each person needs no other to survive No others need to be added to this perfect world For perfection is perfect But the storm rips us apart I huddle by myself Covering my eyes to make it not true The pieces of the world cut through the air Not just the air, but my flesh, my soul The others cower alone as well We all hide our sobs And muffle our cries of pain For Perfection is not weak The storm moves on And the world is now dull gray The wounded tend to themselves And the children cry alone We do not reach for the pieces we have lost But instead begin to build a new world For Perfection knows no past This new world is perfect Each person takes care of only their needs Nothing can be added or lost to make it less perfect But the perfection weighs upon my shoulders And slices into me like glass It hurts so much I cry But no help is given when I reach out For Perfection does not care Doors close Windows slam shut The people scatter as they hear my rage They do not want to talk of or hear about the terrible past The future is what matters, they say For Perfection does not know pain But I find another who shows pain The other and I, we search for the pieces of the lost world The other and I, we lay them out But the pieces do not fit What has been ripped apart cannot be fixed For Perfection is not in the pieces The other and I, we show the pieces To the citizens of the new perfect world The past stands before them Some faces are masked Some are in tears Worse are the cries of anguish But each person does not acknowledge any other's pain For Perfection is self-sufficient The other and I now realize what Perfection is It is covering what's inside And pretending emotions do not exist It is showing your faults to no one And not caring for another It is thinking only of the pain you are in And being swallowed by your own misery So much that you forget that you can heal another's pain Just as they can heal your own For Perfection is a mask for those too selfish and weak to show the pain inside For Perfection is forgetting there are others like yourself For Perfections is not knowing That Perfection is not real The other and I, we stop putting together the pieces The other and I, we leave that perfect world The other and I, we begin to make a new world Full of imperfections The other and I, we do not hide our pain We show it to our imperfect world And because it is shown It drifts towards the heavens And because the other and I, we show our imperfection The imperfections fill our world And the other and I, we begin to mend For imperfection is healing They all begin to see The happiness that is brought to the other and I The other and I, we teach them How to show their pain To display their imperfections To heal the wounds inside For imperfection makes our world beautiful When new pain is found We display it to the world We help others as they help us We are dependent on each other Losing a person fills us with sorrow A person being added fills us with joy For imperfection connects us all To say our world is perfect is far from true Perfection and imperfection should never be compared Pain is in our world, but there is also happiness Loss, but also gain Every pain we feel is matched with joy for something else For imperfection means to have emotion For imperfection means to live
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Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 12:45 PM UTC
Perfection
This world was built on a foundation of perfection No weight lies upon our shoulders Each person needs no other to survive No others need to be added to this perfect world For perfection is perfect But the storm rips us apart I huddle by myself Covering my eyes to make it not true The pieces of the world cut through the air Not just the air, but my flesh, my soul The others cower alone as well We all hide our sobs And muffle our cries of pain For Perfection is not weak The storm moves on And the world is now dull gray The wounded tend to themselves And the children cry alone We do not reach for the pieces we have lost But instead begin to build a new world For Perfection knows no past This new world is perfect Each person takes care of only their needs Nothing can be added or lost to make it less perfect But the perfection weighs upon my shoulders And slices into me like glass It hurts so much I cry But no help is given when I reach out For Perfection does not care Doors close Windows slam shut The people scatter as they hear my rage They do not want to talk of or hear about the terrible past The future is what matters, they say For Perfection does not know pain But I find another who shows pain The other and I, we search for the pieces of the lost world The other and I, we lay them out But the pieces do not fit What has been ripped apart cannot be fixed For Perfection is not in the pieces The other and I, we show the pieces To the citizens of the new perfect world The past stands before them Some faces are masked Some are in tears Worse are the cries of anguish But each person does not acknowledge any other's pain For Perfection is self-sufficient The other and I now realize what Perfection is It is covering what's inside And pretending emotions do not exist It is showing your faults to no one And not caring for another It is thinking only of the pain you are in And being swallowed by your own misery So much that you forget that you can heal another's pain Just as they can heal your own For Perfection is a mask for those too selfish and weak to show the pain inside For Perfection is forgetting there are others like yourself For Perfections is not knowing That Perfection is not real The other and I, we stop putting together the pieces The other and I, we leave that perfect world The other and I, we begin to make a new world Full of imperfections The other and I, we do not hide our pain We show it to our imperfect world And because it is shown It drifts towards the heavens And because the other and I, we show our imperfection The imperfections fill our world And the other and I, we begin to mend For imperfection is healing They all begin to see The happiness that is brought to the other and I The other and I, we teach them How to show their pain To display their imperfections To heal the wounds inside For imperfection makes our world beautiful When new pain is found We display it to the world We help others as they help us We are dependent on each other Losing a person fills us with sorrow A person being added fills us with joy For imperfection connects us all To say our world is perfect is far from true Perfection and imperfection should never be compared Pain is in our world, but there is also happiness Loss, but also gain Every pain we feel is matched with joy for something else For imperfection means to have emotion For imperfection means to live
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95
Perfect perfections One woman once made a connection, Not to me, but the world You see, She found the key within her complexion For her whole life she faced rejection, She wasn't "YOUR" definition of perfection Your definition of perfection, kept her from discovering her own You kept her captive by your desperation, to hurt her with your words of stone For a short period of time you destroyed her throne But now she has a voice of her own The words that are made of stone You get trapped by the sound of the drone "Perfect perfections" Today, She stares into her reflection, At her complexion And says " I have Perfect perfections"
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May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 1:52 PM UTC
Perfect Perfections
"The Druids taught their disciples many things about nature and the perfections of God, and that, there was only one God, the Creator of heaven and earth. One name, under which they worshiped him, was Esus or Hesus (“He," in Celtic meaning, "Lord," ) or Harits which is their name for Horus..." ~Julius Caesar from [Signs and Symbols of Primordial Man, by Albert Churchward circa 1912] [Page 186] "He,"  -meaning, "Lord," and "Sus," being the most ancient Minoan form of, "Zeus," therefore, "Jesus," means in Celtic and Greek; "Lord Zeus." The word "Harits," being Sanskrit identical to, "Charits," and "Marits, Maruts," a mythical epithet for Aryas, or Aryans so the usage of it for his name means it represents him as being Aryan.   Jesus as an Aryan. *If You can prove it, prove it wrong, then do so here or do so in song. If you can also, do it in verse, then truly you'll deserve a purse. I do not believe there will ever be, on this point, ...a mortal man to challenge me!* Good Luck
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Dec 24, 2016
Dec 24, 2016 at 5:08 PM UTC
Caesar's Curious Quote;
i want you in every way there is to want a person from lazy rainy days sitting around in underwear wrapped up in the covers enveloped in each other to lustful late nights high happy and in love too absorbed with each other to focus on anything else i want you and i see so much in you that counting all your perfections would be like counting the stars there's too many to keep track of and they just seem endless i am utterly in love with every inch of your being every corner of your mind and everything in between i might not know what i believe or where i'm going or what i'm doing but i do hope you'll hold my hand and wander blindly with me because as long as i'm with you i don't need a destination you are the journey i am simply enamored with your entity captivated by your character fascinated infatuated amorous in love
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Sep 19, 2017
Sep 19, 2017 at 10:33 PM UTC
you
i've come to realise that with every fallen snowflake the life of one unknown to me is reflected in its icy self. a snowflakes very existence relies on the individuality of its structure, similar to that of a human life. everyone has a different story to tell complicated to those who don't know complicated to those who do know complicated to all in a sense because we sit by and wonder why why are we here? what is the meaning of true purpose when uncertainty plagues the minds of all who breathe living in a time when the youth of our generation are born into an age so filled with hurt hate pain no common sense in a place where so many have tried to fight for the right of humanity. all we receive is inhumane behaviour and injustice uncaring and shallow acts when all we wish for is fairness and equality you see, although every snowflake is different their independent beauty co-depends on one another's existence how can you have a blizzard with a single snowflake? their imperfections bring out their perfections each one has a tale to tell each one brings out the beauty in one another. similar to human life have you ever realised the silent beauty in a cold winters snow? how when engulfed in a snowstorm, you are able to accept peace into your mind, you're able to let go? you're actually able to think for a moment, and realise the clarity that silence holds all that finally unfolds when you're able to take a moment for yourself and let out the breath you've unknowingly held you're finally able to delve into a sense of true finality a final sense of... raw serenity.
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Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 10:55 PM UTC
snowflakes
i've come to realise that with every fallen snowflake the life of one unknown to me is reflected in its icy self. a snowflakes very existence relies on the individuality of its structure, similar to that of a human life. everyone has a different story to tell complicated to those who don't know complicated to those who do know complicated to all in a sense because we sit by and wonder why why are we here? what is the meaning of true purpose when uncertainty plagues the minds of all who breathe living in a time when the youth of our generation are born into an age so filled with hurt hate pain no common sense in a place where so many have tried to fight for the right of humanity. all we receive is inhumane behaviour and injustice uncaring and shallow acts when all we wish for is fairness and equality you see, although every snowflake is different their independent beauty co-depends on one another's existence how can you have a blizzard with a single snowflake? their imperfections bring out their perfections each one has a tale to tell each one brings out the beauty in one another. similar to human life have you ever realised the silent beauty in a cold winters snow? how when engulfed in a snowstorm, you are able to accept peace into your mind, you're able to let go? you're actually able to think for a moment, and realise the clarity that silence holds all that finally unfolds when you're able to take a moment for yourself and let out the breath you've unknowingly held you're finally able to delve into a sense of true finality a final sense of... raw serenity.
Continue reading...
38
Hey, I need your help. Eager yellings have got me over-thinking, linking what I think with pain, I'm on the brink of breaking. Each incision to my brain, has never completely faded. Onto reality, formality presents us to hide everything. Wrongly suggesting, we'd be better investing imperfect perfections-
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Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 1:03 PM UTC
Imperfect Perfections
The onion, now that's something else its innards don't exist nothing but pure onionhood fills this devout onionist oniony on the inside onionesque it appears it follows its own daimonion without our human tears our skin is just a coverup for the land where none dare to go an internal inferno the anathema of anatomy in an onion there's only onion from its top to it's toe onionymous monomania unanimous omninudity at peace, at peace internally at rest inside it, there's a smaller one of undiminished worth the second holds a third one the third contains a fourth a centripetal fugue polypony compressed nature's rotundest tummy its greatest success story the onion drapes itself in it's own aureoles of glory we hold veins, nerves, and fat secretions' secret sections not for us such idiotic onionoid perfections Wisława Szymborska, translated from the Polish by Stanisław Barańczak & Clare Cavanagh
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Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 4:46 PM UTC
The onion
I'm lying here awake Just thinking about you Where we started And who we've become. I'm lying here awake And now I'm wondering Are you lying there awake Thinking about me too? I'm lying here awake Listing all of your perfections If I try to list them all I'll be up until the dawn. I'm lying here awake As the minutes tick by I'm going to get little sleep But it's worth it because I love to think about you. I'm lying here awake Drifting off into sleep I'll see you in my dreams And I'll carry you off to live happily ever after Because you're a princess And you deserve a prince I'll rescue you from any trouble, any distress And I'll never leave you as long as you're alive. I'm lying here awake Just thinking about my princess And how my life would be different If I had never met you. I'm lying here awake And now I am thankful That I met you In our own little fairytale.
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Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 12:21 AM UTC
I'm Lying Here Awake
Another slimy page absorbed by gentle, tender hands Another reality channel infected by impossibilities Another grainy film shaded by green to hide the truth All eyes are glued to these perfections Simple utopias I can never be Her hair, his eyes, their laugh, that smile How disheartening it is for my friends to say one word when the tags on my clothing say another A dent here, a scar there, a bulge elsewhere hips too wide, skin too rough, hair too straight, eyes too red, toes too small, nose too big, scar too dark, skin too light My entire being is stitched together faults So my eyes burn as yours shine I guess it is yet another imperfection But then again, are the blemishes even mine?
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Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 10:44 PM UTC
Complete Inadequacy
the mirror divides where the partition begins between broken and free i touch the glass it imitates me copies my every move i must be confused i touch the glass again it still imitates me showing the contour lines of my every ****** expression but then its gone i must be very confused i look hard into the glass i see my face i look harder but this time its different i first see my flaws my imperfect perfections what makes me whole why should i look like a brainless doll? i look harder once more into the glass and i see something far more different i see the girl with the piercing dark grey eyes who has everything in her life just sorted out but then i see the girl with dark black holes in her sockets instead of eyes this girl has many marks on her body signifying how many times she has been hurting i see a marking on her forehead it says LOST it then begins to cut a wound into her scull i try to forget all these disturbing images i have seen in this mirror forgive and forget hasn't it always been about forgiving and forgetting? i'm not sure i want to forget anymore. i want to remember. i turn back and look at the girl with the deep dark eyes i then see her mouth move who are you? (b.d.s.)
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Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 7:46 PM UTC
noitcelfer (reflection).
sitting on the floor barefoot in a baby blue dress perfections dreamscape hewn in lace romance flower of such gentle strength and such sweet grace my life was a blank page waiting to be written waiting for my wanderers heart to be smitten for this wild child dreadlock princess for this gentle soul to sing her heartsong for me tremble no more for all darkness is gone with eachother we are stronger than moonlight with eachother our hearts beat as one my life to you and for you my sweet be my wife be my life
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Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 3:34 PM UTC
my wife
Mona Lisa, of Louvre, in simplest words, an angelic, of beauty. Her enigmatic smiles, so mystical, like bewitching, yet heavenly as I and you, felt her, so alive, left a mystery of, unrevealed, Da Vinci's Perfections.
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Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 1:36 PM UTC
La Gioconda (The Enchantress)
Through wigs and make up, I pick up slack, Where you fall, I have your back, You lose your rhythm, And fall off track, I am perfections, In which you lack, I have no flaws, I have no cracks, When you lose yourself, Find Domino Black.
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Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 4:47 PM UTC
Domino Black
They put us in glass boxes And empty rooms with glass ceilings We conform to make our ends, and we learn to muffle our feelings Their inventions age into Standards, and they sell us their finest wine for a fee No prison for this Queen 'Cause I like my ******* free... They applaud our independance at first Then tell us we are now too proud Our voices once unheard are now suddenly too loud Make sure you please the people No heels too high, and no skirt above the knee I wear no bra to imprison my womanhood 'Cause I like my ******* free... Jiggle jiggle with hard ******* let them bounce naturally I am every bit of my roots- I'm ***** happily I'm not ashamed of their smallness Despite their size, they  stand as firm and tall as mountain peaks They're embarassed or jealous of my freedom 'Cause I like my ******* free...    Big or small, short or tall, even if one is size 'A' and the other 'B' They are our imperfect perfections They belong to you, they belong to me Our country has learned to dictate through mandate While they ********** themselves to higher power I'm not ashamed of my nakedness and I look in the mirror after my shower So if you think I need a bra Then I will tell you you need to be imprisoned My mind is mine, as is my body and they will never take my vision They try to smother what they don't understand I'm just evolving into the best Me I know who and what I am... ...And I just happen to like my ******* to be free.
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May 5, 2010
May 5, 2010 at 1:28 PM UTC
I Like My ******* Free
His body lost temperature as he pressed himself against the chest of hers, seducing her with his love. With his sleepy **** voice, he hums her romantic morning lullabies. The gray walls of the room soon embosomed with gleaming hearts of their beauteous lust and speedy soft breaths, leaving nothing more but powder blushes of crimson on her flowery cheeks in the springtime dawn. The honeyed lust in the veins lit the bodies of two lovers like candles into eternal flames of romance. Under the chocolate brown duvets, Milky fragrances of the tea dances along the bare hands of two lovers, while he serves breakfast on bed to her in an old-fashioned way. Bleak morning mist tango around the vitreous skins of scratched windows, as fat hummingbirds' tinkling giggles paint beyond the nature's smiley meadows, sending a major abundance of lovable freedom and glee to the people. In the bathtub, Velvety calyx of dreamlover rose flows smoothly through the silk water. They shower each other and let warmth grasp their naked body. He kissed her dancing soul of chasms out and tie uncountable amount of butterfly knots to her pancake stomach. His abilities of heart possessions had captured the universe's breath. *Nothing has changed since day number one, everything is iridescent. Everything is swimming in a magical pool of scarred perfections.* As the sun sets to the west, The undarkened nightfall sings lulling melodies and let its harmonic fire burn the skies. The shadows of their love whirl out unstoppable romance that vanished away void hopes and pain. The lover's spirits echo and echo into spring gorges and dashing rivers, Feeding darkness with lucent fragments of light. Oh they were only two humans in love... Or only a size of two negligible lovedust in the mystical galaxies... But their endless love never fails to deluge the world with drizzling tears. A facile spark of romance can be an amazing set of fireworks that creates indiscernible fruitful happiness. Who in the world could resist this unpredictable power of their spingtime love?
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Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 10:28 AM UTC
Springtime Romance
His body lost temperature as he pressed himself against the chest of hers, seducing her with his love. With his sleepy **** voice, he hums her romantic morning lullabies. The gray walls of the room soon embosomed with gleaming hearts of their beauteous lust and speedy soft breaths, leaving nothing more but powder blushes of crimson on her flowery cheeks in the springtime dawn. The honeyed lust in the veins lit the bodies of two lovers like candles into eternal flames of romance. Under the chocolate brown duvets, Milky fragrances of the tea dances along the bare hands of two lovers, while he serves breakfast on bed to her in an old-fashioned way. Bleak morning mist tango around the vitreous skins of scratched windows, as fat hummingbirds' tinkling giggles paint beyond the nature's smiley meadows, sending a major abundance of lovable freedom and glee to the people. In the bathtub, Velvety calyx of dreamlover rose flows smoothly through the silk water. They shower each other and let warmth grasp their naked body. He kissed her dancing soul of chasms out and tie uncountable amount of butterfly knots to her pancake stomach. His abilities of heart possessions had captured the universe's breath. *Nothing has changed since day number one, everything is iridescent. Everything is swimming in a magical pool of scarred perfections.* As the sun sets to the west, The undarkened nightfall sings lulling melodies and let its harmonic fire burn the skies. The shadows of their love whirl out unstoppable romance that vanished away void hopes and pain. The lover's spirits echo and echo into spring gorges and dashing rivers, Feeding darkness with lucent fragments of light. Oh they were only two humans in love... Or only a size of two negligible lovedust in the mystical galaxies... But their endless love never fails to deluge the world with drizzling tears. A facile spark of romance can be an amazing set of fireworks that creates indiscernible fruitful happiness. Who in the world could resist this unpredictable power of their spingtime love?
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28
Have we met? Maybe yes, maybe no But in your head There must be an image of me. Either real, sketchy, vague or an imagination To some a rare gem To others is a beautiful devil And to you... maybe just a facebook friend. Maybe it’s the smiling girl In my profile picture, Who got your attention... Or maybe it was that awkward update That got you thinking. Or maybe it’s the color of her eyes, Or is it the long slender legs In that party dress as she walks across the street? Mhhh... Just maybe You must be wondering Why am writing all this I would love to answer you But I really don’t know What my last line will be like. So, will keep writing... Do you ever wonder why this girl isn’t constant? Today she is in love Tomorrow her man is a pain on her neck, One minute she is your friend The other minute you are a stranger I think i know why... She is like you, she is human! She may not live long enough To defend all her flaws Or brag about her perfections But I can tell you a few things about her... Some she isn’t proud of But others she wouldn’t change Just to please a crowd She has a beautiful heart To complement her warm smile But she has a temper too Which beats that of a betrayed woman She is opinionated But still a good listener. But an insensitive word... Hurts her like a sharp sword. So, if you haven’t met her, Now you know something about her Do I need write more? Oh yes, tomorrow i will write, and the day after Maybe about you, or about my shoe or the trees Everyday I will write. C@P2013   September 4, 2013 at 8:53pm
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Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 11:56 AM UTC
THINKING ALOUD... by Purity Kim
Have we met? Maybe yes, maybe no But in your head There must be an image of me. Either real, sketchy, vague or an imagination To some a rare gem To others is a beautiful devil And to you... maybe just a facebook friend. Maybe it’s the smiling girl In my profile picture, Who got your attention... Or maybe it was that awkward update That got you thinking. Or maybe it’s the color of her eyes, Or is it the long slender legs In that party dress as she walks across the street? Mhhh... Just maybe You must be wondering Why am writing all this I would love to answer you But I really don’t know What my last line will be like. So, will keep writing... Do you ever wonder why this girl isn’t constant? Today she is in love Tomorrow her man is a pain on her neck, One minute she is your friend The other minute you are a stranger I think i know why... She is like you, she is human! She may not live long enough To defend all her flaws Or brag about her perfections But I can tell you a few things about her... Some she isn’t proud of But others she wouldn’t change Just to please a crowd She has a beautiful heart To complement her warm smile But she has a temper too Which beats that of a betrayed woman She is opinionated But still a good listener. But an insensitive word... Hurts her like a sharp sword. So, if you haven’t met her, Now you know something about her Do I need write more? Oh yes, tomorrow i will write, and the day after Maybe about you, or about my shoe or the trees Everyday I will write. C@P2013   September 4, 2013 at 8:53pm
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53
What have these fairy tales made us afraid of? Step moms and snakes? there is more to life that living in fear, And there is more to fear than being afraid. Fear is a feeling of many natures and forms, Including step moms and snakes. Fear isnt only brought on by dark, fear is in love too, and fear is in hate. Fear is in a butterflies first flight, and fear is in our tummys, when something is not right. The Sound of Music showed us more than the sights of Austria, It showed us how to sing, Some times the fear is in what we already know. Fear can control if you let it, and after you see it, its hard to forget, But you can replace your with something bigger. Bigger than the night time, I am the stars. I'm not in heaven, but when i'm with you i'm close. You are faster than the night, and sneakier than the clock ticking past noon. On a Saturday, you are the Sunday afternoon. The fear is less now. You are ahead of my own thought,. You know my bed, You know i have zebra sheets, and a red stain in the corner. You know my body, dimples and scars. You know all the perfections, and defections. The fear is less and less now. Our kisses enable me to hear, clocks ticking around the world. you taste like... words are to meager to describe. There goes the fear, There it goes, out the window, and into the hearts of those, Step moms and Snakes.
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Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 2:01 PM UTC
The Doves.
Warmed sand from the hot day slides between her slider toes, Her soft delicate ankles flex so tenderly with each step, Smooth calves pull taut with petite strength, yet so frailly, The falling sun dances on her hip and thigh seductively, (A woman of complete ****** power, yet seemingly helpless, Only as fragile as the tip of the golden dagger she bares, Her greatest power is in your pleasures pleasingly fulfilled, For once she has you clasped then her bidding can begin,) Widening hips well versed in shifting her gently pooched belly, A belly, so sensual, adored with melted elemental perfections, Colorful beads to draws eyes to skin like petals of a newly bloomed rose, A belly that when shaking releases all your heart's troubles and woes, (When she loves, her warmth is ten times the sun on a cold night, But if you were to oppose her, you are the prey to the panther's delight, She will give you everything your heart could ever desire, A kindness that burns inside her for her lover like a bellowed fire,) Fluid, water like hands tell a story of enchantment as they slice through air, Caressing a ***** so supple in form, a tear drop design of sexiness shown, Gentle and smooth as her beasts gyrate with motion as her body moves like waves, Her hands the constant agonist starting a seductive chain reaction through her body, (A passionate heart awaiting a love so true, searching for her warrior poet, She controls her world with her feminine wile but craves a life that is true, A man that values and respects her intellect, equally as much as the view, And look into her eyes to see the beautiful goddess that await him,) Long flowing black hair loved by the wind, teasing her curls as she spins, The beauty of her face only second to Nefertiti, but her eyes that of a goddess, Eyes reminiscent of a feline capturing the attention of the strongest man, Emerald green, deep with passion like the ocean, and rival its beauty infinitely, A dream that I see her in and long for her intimately......
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Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 12:10 PM UTC
Eyes of the Egyptian Mistress....
Warmed sand from the hot day slides between her slider toes, Her soft delicate ankles flex so tenderly with each step, Smooth calves pull taut with petite strength, yet so frailly, The falling sun dances on her hip and thigh seductively, (A woman of complete ****** power, yet seemingly helpless, Only as fragile as the tip of the golden dagger she bares, Her greatest power is in your pleasures pleasingly fulfilled, For once she has you clasped then her bidding can begin,) Widening hips well versed in shifting her gently pooched belly, A belly, so sensual, adored with melted elemental perfections, Colorful beads to draws eyes to skin like petals of a newly bloomed rose, A belly that when shaking releases all your heart's troubles and woes, (When she loves, her warmth is ten times the sun on a cold night, But if you were to oppose her, you are the prey to the panther's delight, She will give you everything your heart could ever desire, A kindness that burns inside her for her lover like a bellowed fire,) Fluid, water like hands tell a story of enchantment as they slice through air, Caressing a ***** so supple in form, a tear drop design of sexiness shown, Gentle and smooth as her beasts gyrate with motion as her body moves like waves, Her hands the constant agonist starting a seductive chain reaction through her body, (A passionate heart awaiting a love so true, searching for her warrior poet, She controls her world with her feminine wile but craves a life that is true, A man that values and respects her intellect, equally as much as the view, And look into her eyes to see the beautiful goddess that await him,) Long flowing black hair loved by the wind, teasing her curls as she spins, The beauty of her face only second to Nefertiti, but her eyes that of a goddess, Eyes reminiscent of a feline capturing the attention of the strongest man, Emerald green, deep with passion like the ocean, and rival its beauty infinitely, A dream that I see her in and long for her intimately......
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30
Turning table of bare skin and plaster Sitting model of perfections mastered Brushing every layer on blank sheets Watering eyes for moisture in basking heat Now cry those pictures prettier than me Wash away what flaws replay then flee Creating beauty; an authentic frisson Until the truth is unmasked to glisten Strokes of warmth into lustrous mellow Let me shine then fade a sweeter yellow Add finishing touches on the drying husk Then marvel at the paint of dawn to dusk.
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Dec 23, 2018
Dec 23, 2018 at 3:43 PM UTC
The Painting
Your scars mean nothing to me Your scars are in your head Your scars are what consume you Darling don't let them consume you for there are greater things to worry about than your imperfections For your imperfections are the reason I picked you Your perfections are amongst the imperfections even though you can't see past the imperfections we can The world can I can The head is a dangerous place Don't let it hate you For you are the stars, the constellations in my sky You are the beauty I see every day You are the sun rising every morning and the moon ascending at night You are the reason I smile The reason I laugh You are the universe in my little world You are everything that your imperfections are not.
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Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 5:27 PM UTC
Scars
For a long period of time, we have been told to conform to the different standards set for us by the society. We grew up in a system where having milk colored skin and lean, slender bodies is the only acceptable image of beauty. Several advertisements and individuals will try to tell you what you need to buy or do to improve yourself, and I’m writing this letter to say that you are superb; a creation of purpose. In a world where violence, fear and hate continue to exist, it is essential for us to unify and persist in eradicating the barriers that have been placed before us. Regardless of our differences - our backgrounds, religions, ethnicity, political views, jobs, academic standing, and flaws or perfections – we all want the same thing in life: respect, love and success. We all want to be seen and esteemed for who we are but we must also know that a women’s success doesn’t equalize with another’s failure. It is important that we work forward in life hand in hand, rather than to step on others just to rise above everyone else. Know that there is a time, place and an opportunity for all of us to accomplish our dreams. Know that you are able to think for yourself – despite of what the world keeps telling you. I believe that women like you and me are capable of creating history every day. I believe in the power of inseparability, that we could push the boundaries and open other people’s minds to a better discourse if we collectively act to make it happen. As we celebrate International Women’s Month, I encourage you to find the good in the women around you. Let yourself be inspired by their experiences setbacks and victories. By doing this, we not only strengthen our respect for one another, but we open doors for others and ourselves. This is letter is for all the women who’s looking for their place in this world. Whoever you may be – a student, a businesswoman, a coach, a lawyer, a janitor, a musician, a scientist, a military, a teacher, a traveler, a doctor, an athlete, a poet, or a transwoman – know that you are smart, beautiful, inspirational and strong. Thank you for being yourself. Sincerely, Pat
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Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 9:26 AM UTC
an open letter to all the women
For a long period of time, we have been told to conform to the different standards set for us by the society. We grew up in a system where having milk colored skin and lean, slender bodies is the only acceptable image of beauty. Several advertisements and individuals will try to tell you what you need to buy or do to improve yourself, and I’m writing this letter to say that you are superb; a creation of purpose. In a world where violence, fear and hate continue to exist, it is essential for us to unify and persist in eradicating the barriers that have been placed before us. Regardless of our differences - our backgrounds, religions, ethnicity, political views, jobs, academic standing, and flaws or perfections – we all want the same thing in life: respect, love and success. We all want to be seen and esteemed for who we are but we must also know that a women’s success doesn’t equalize with another’s failure. It is important that we work forward in life hand in hand, rather than to step on others just to rise above everyone else. Know that there is a time, place and an opportunity for all of us to accomplish our dreams. Know that you are able to think for yourself – despite of what the world keeps telling you. I believe that women like you and me are capable of creating history every day. I believe in the power of inseparability, that we could push the boundaries and open other people’s minds to a better discourse if we collectively act to make it happen. As we celebrate International Women’s Month, I encourage you to find the good in the women around you. Let yourself be inspired by their experiences setbacks and victories. By doing this, we not only strengthen our respect for one another, but we open doors for others and ourselves. This is letter is for all the women who’s looking for their place in this world. Whoever you may be – a student, a businesswoman, a coach, a lawyer, a janitor, a musician, a scientist, a military, a teacher, a traveler, a doctor, an athlete, a poet, or a transwoman – know that you are smart, beautiful, inspirational and strong. Thank you for being yourself. Sincerely, Pat
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With sweet lips spewing lies Of life's grand perfections; Fictitious light placed inside My 'ever vacant wandering eyes. Id nod my head; shake their hand While pretending I was joyous; Laugh about and dance around While we listened to the band. With a wide smile upon my face The photographer snapped a shot; Eternalizing "lovely" depression, of which Seeped into my soul and stole my grace. I'm drowning in the screaming words Of all the truths I've never shared; They’ve become my grim lullabies Forever sung by my inner songbirds. -ARI
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Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 9:22 AM UTC
Malicious Songbirds
i want you, in every way there is to want a person. from lazy rainy days sitting around in underwear, wrapped up in the covers enveloped in each other. to lustful late nights high happy and in love, too absorbed with each other to focus on anything else. i want you. and i see so much in you that counting all your perfections would be like counting the stars, there's too many to keep track of and they just seem endless. i am utterly in love with every inch of your being, every corner of your mind and everything in between i might not know what i believe or where i'm going or what i'm doing, but i do hope you'll hold my hand and wander blindly with me. because as long as i'm with you i don't need a destination, you are the journey. i am simply enamored with your entity, captivated by your character, fascinated infatuated amorous in love.
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Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 9:23 PM UTC
enamoured