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"peril" poems
Maids, not to you my mind doth change; Men I defy, allure, estrange, Prostrate, make bond or free: Soft as the stream beneath the plane To you I sing my love's refrain; Between us is no thought of pain, Peril, satiety. Soon doth a lover's patience tire, But ye to manifold desire Can yield response, ye know When for long, museful days I pine, The presage at my heart divine; To you I never breathe a sign Of inward want or woe. When injuries my spirit bruise, Allaying virtue ye infuse With unobtrusive skill: And if care frets ye come to me As fresh as nymph from stream or tree, And with your soft vitality My weary ***** fill.
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'Maids, not to you my mind doth change'
The closest I ever feel to anything is to the words I write. When I am a million leagues into the depths, and there is nothing, nothing to do but carve these letters into the floor. No, nothing. Nothing more. Words ring hollow, and melodies fall flat, prayers (un)heard, another test. This too will pass, but while it stays, while it tarries, black is bequeathed behind my eyes my mind is marred in manic peril and I carve these words into the floor one more time one more time once more.
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Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 10:07 PM UTC
Once More
I bring ye wine from above, From the vats of the storied sun; For every one of yer love, And life for every one. Ye shall dance on hill and level; Ye shall sing in hollow and height In the festal mystical revel, The rapurous Bacchanal rite! The rocks and trees are yours, And the waters under the hill, By the might of that which endures, The holy heaven of will! I kindle a flame like a torrent To rush from star to star; Your hair as a comet’s horrent, Ye shall see things as they are! I lift the mask of matter; I open the heart of man; For I am of force to shatter The cast that hideth -Pan! Your loves shall lap up slaughter, And dabbled with roses of blood Each desperate darling daughter Shall swim in the fervid flood. I bring ye laughter and tears, The kisses that foam and bleed, The joys of a million years, The flowers that bear no seed. My life is bitter and sterile, Its flame is a wandering star. Ye shall pass in pleasure and peril Across the mystic bar That is set for wrath and weeping Against the children of earth; But ye in singing and sleeping Shall pass in measure and mirth! I lift my wand and wave you Through hill to hill of delight : My rosy rivers lave you In innermost lustral light.. I lead you, lord of the maze, In the darkness free of the sun; In spite of the spite that is day’s We are wed, we are wild, we are one.
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Dionysus
I'm on the run And not for fun The police are chasing My heart is racing When my life is at stake My morality I'll break The police release the hounds I can hear their deadly sounds They want to maim me I want to stay me I decide to fight the charging canines Because I just snorted a ******* line My judgement loses length To my influx of strength I break the dogs' legs Until they beg That's not enough Sorry Scruff The steel gun I fire A furry cop retired The police attack me For defending myself They refuse to see The danger to my health They chose to use crazy canines So I feel the fault isn't mine That doesn't change their decision For me to die slowly in prison I am in the teeth of the government Much to my human wonderment This is the way I'll spend the rest of my life For the decisions I made at the end of a knife The irony is cops **** dogs all the time Yet they obstruct their vision of the line Where it ceases to be man versus society And becomes man versus nature When a man is in peril He must turn feral But in a country that blindly idolizes aggression The police don't acknowledge this discretion They dig their teeth into our skin While draining us financially The only way we'll ever win Is if things change substantially Sadism fervently fuels the flames of conflict With an exasperated public sick of being kicked Cruelty is what they witness To lose their mental fitness How can they protect their babies When the police have rabies? The police relationship with the effected public will never shift When there's a Cereberus between them maintaining the rift
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Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 5:35 AM UTC
Canine
I'm on the run And not for fun The police are chasing My heart is racing When my life is at stake My morality I'll break The police release the hounds I can hear their deadly sounds They want to maim me I want to stay me I decide to fight the charging canines Because I just snorted a ******* line My judgement loses length To my influx of strength I break the dogs' legs Until they beg That's not enough Sorry Scruff The steel gun I fire A furry cop retired The police attack me For defending myself They refuse to see The danger to my health They chose to use crazy canines So I feel the fault isn't mine That doesn't change their decision For me to die slowly in prison I am in the teeth of the government Much to my human wonderment This is the way I'll spend the rest of my life For the decisions I made at the end of a knife The irony is cops **** dogs all the time Yet they obstruct their vision of the line Where it ceases to be man versus society And becomes man versus nature When a man is in peril He must turn feral But in a country that blindly idolizes aggression The police don't acknowledge this discretion They dig their teeth into our skin While draining us financially The only way we'll ever win Is if things change substantially Sadism fervently fuels the flames of conflict With an exasperated public sick of being kicked Cruelty is what they witness To lose their mental fitness How can they protect their babies When the police have rabies? The police relationship with the effected public will never shift When there's a Cereberus between them maintaining the rift
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52
Be a dreamer. See all the beauty despite the peril. The joy in every strife. Be a dreamer. Reach out for the impossible. The illusions in a distant future. Be a dreamer. Live out the opportunities. The ones where only dreamers can perceive. Be a dreamer. And see the world as it should be. Alive and vibrant. Be a dreamer. Wonder and be surprised. Be a dreamer. Dream the moment and build the life of a free soul. Unrestrained and glorious. Be a dreamer. Paint the colors of your dreams. The world is your canvas.
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Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 11:03 AM UTC
The Dreamer
Paragliding is a matter of maths. You launch, fly, land, bash or crash. How you meet the ground depends on maths. Maths is key to survival. Allowances for maths out of your control, will drive your fun. Wind, heat, thermals and other pilots in the sky. Unforgiving ground is gravity's final aim. The wind will blow, thermals will lift, but gravity's maths will always win. Your time in the air, and possibly life's end, will depend pilot error. But gravity's maths doesn't care, he is all. Gravity is annoyed with paragliders aiming at the ground with miss. Gravity has calculated it's maths. He spies those who fly forever, and wishes them on the ground. With silence and invisibility, he draws those pilots in. Some follow the maths and land with ease. Some ignore the maths with peril. Gravity's maths will always win.
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Sep 8, 2020
Sep 8, 2020 at 8:29 AM UTC
Paragliding and Gravity Maths
the moulding unseen centre of the Earth fire and brimstone spells of witches all not to be taken that serious swept ignore under the carpet at your peril
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Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 2:34 PM UTC
Warnings From Healthcare Workers
It drifts as time moves The concentration the same, the fluid stretched thin Going from lake to creek Same material Different movement Different shape Reviving itself Lakes compound stagnation with benefits of submersion with risk of drowning Beware of drifting a base deprived of sun Creek is movement Life is passed through No depth Traded for flow and conservation Calming, no splashes Feels white, Visible trenches Gather your footing. Time is key, purpose fatal Each becomes the other Only if the path is given Evolution of matter Calming of peril, Understood change The muck of the chest runs babbling through the ditches of skin and bone Without this Movement Stops.
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Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 3:00 PM UTC
The Creek
she gave me her cell #, in a crowded bar inked upon my forearm, "in case in my drunkness, I dare forget," a common come-on technique, that reeks of all good things to come but I failed to see, in the little letters, "@ your own peril" a warning, poorly heeded, inflaming my now unimaginable needy neededs, just a **** come on, or a warring warning of tumult, vampirish blood ******* with cautious haste, her number I did paste into my contact list, 'in case of loss, call,' when sudden notifications galore, came unbidden from everywhere: Are you really sure? these digits seems were posted on a Do Not Call list, maintained by monks and bro's, no, no, not a list of what-rhymes-with-bro's, but of fallen angels, who knew the secrets of heaven the price extracted for their revealing, could cause you life long arthritis of the heart, per the Surgeon General, for which the only cure, endure, endure, endure... the prize? endless wonderful new poems, freely given, but with one strictest of restrictions, if published, it meant your slow extinction! *that is why the world calls me Poet of the Way, forever trying to find a way, to away these treasured glories* then one day, he laughed and laughed, when he first he read the magic key, your poem, successfully saved *on Hello Poetry!* and now the poet endures, even possibly, self-saved, quite happily
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Sep 4, 2017
Sep 4, 2017 at 7:30 AM UTC
she gave me her cell #
You want a make out Without a ring on it You call it attractive I call it infactuation They call it seductive spirit They just want the pudding Bunch of irresponsibles This kind goeth not away But by fasting and prayer A generation of sadomasochists Bunch of nymphonaniacs Do I look like a loose ball? Even if I wanted to play "Shoe get size, 'mbok'" Open your legs at your peril When it's time to settle down Men look beyond beauty Character and intelligence tops the list Even love is not enough When he is ready to "ring it" Don't say I didn't tell When you advertise your wares Frontally and from behind You attract what you represent Men don't like exposed wares If you cover it very well They will pay fire to posses it Trust me, I speak from experience Queens of the night Their office opens at night Adorned in skimpy gowns, no brassiere Sometimes, with their nieces knickers Exposing all exposables You attract what you are You get what you desire Do you have a banging body With seductive shape All you get is a one night stand No one wants to marry an empty barrel Before you open your legs Please, open your sense Do you understand? Before I drop my pen Please repeat after me Lord, Jesus, I come to you today As my personal Lord and saviour Deliver me from seductive spirit That I might be made whole Write my name in the book of life Thank you for saving me. Amen!
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Dec 13, 2019
Dec 13, 2019 at 1:07 PM UTC
Seductive Spirit
'Draw three cards, and I will tell your future . . . Draw three cards, and lay them down, Rest your palms upon them, stare at the crystal, And think of time . . . My father was a clown, My mother was a gypsy out of Egypt; And she was gotten with child in a strange way; And I was born in a cold eclipse of the moon, With the future in my eyes as clear as day.' I sit before the gold-embroidered curtain And think her face is like a wrinkled desert. The crystal burns in lamplight beneath my eyes. A dragon slowly coils on the scaly curtain. Upon a scarlet cloth a white skull lies. 'Your hand is on the hand that holds three lilies. You will live long, love many times. I see a dark girl here who once betrayed you. I see a shadow of secret crimes. 'There was a man who came intent to **** you, And hid behind a door and waited for you; There was a woman who smiled at you and lied. There was a golden girl who loved you, begged you, Crawled after you, and died. 'There is a ghost of ****** in your blood-- Coming or past, I know not which. And here is danger--a woman with sea-green eyes, And white-skinned as a witch . . .' The words hiss into me, like raindrops falling On sleepy fire . . . She smiles a meaning smile. Suspicion eats my brain; I ask a question; Something is creeping at me, something vile; And suddenly on the wall behind her head I see a monstrous shadow strike and spread, The lamp puffs out, a great blow crashes down. I plunge through the curtain, run through dark to the street, And hear swift steps retreat . . . The shades are drawn, the door is locked behind me. Behind the door I hear a hammer sounding. I walk in a cloud of wonder; I am glad. I mingle among the crowds; my heart is pounding; You do not guess the adventure I have had! . . . Yet you, too, all have had your dark adventures, Your sudden adventures, or strange, or sweet . . . My peril goes out from me, is blown among you. We loiter, dreaming together, along the street.
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The House Of Dust: Part 02: 04: Nightmare
'Draw three cards, and I will tell your future . . . Draw three cards, and lay them down, Rest your palms upon them, stare at the crystal, And think of time . . . My father was a clown, My mother was a gypsy out of Egypt; And she was gotten with child in a strange way; And I was born in a cold eclipse of the moon, With the future in my eyes as clear as day.' I sit before the gold-embroidered curtain And think her face is like a wrinkled desert. The crystal burns in lamplight beneath my eyes. A dragon slowly coils on the scaly curtain. Upon a scarlet cloth a white skull lies. 'Your hand is on the hand that holds three lilies. You will live long, love many times. I see a dark girl here who once betrayed you. I see a shadow of secret crimes. 'There was a man who came intent to **** you, And hid behind a door and waited for you; There was a woman who smiled at you and lied. There was a golden girl who loved you, begged you, Crawled after you, and died. 'There is a ghost of ****** in your blood-- Coming or past, I know not which. And here is danger--a woman with sea-green eyes, And white-skinned as a witch . . .' The words hiss into me, like raindrops falling On sleepy fire . . . She smiles a meaning smile. Suspicion eats my brain; I ask a question; Something is creeping at me, something vile; And suddenly on the wall behind her head I see a monstrous shadow strike and spread, The lamp puffs out, a great blow crashes down. I plunge through the curtain, run through dark to the street, And hear swift steps retreat . . . The shades are drawn, the door is locked behind me. Behind the door I hear a hammer sounding. I walk in a cloud of wonder; I am glad. I mingle among the crowds; my heart is pounding; You do not guess the adventure I have had! . . . Yet you, too, all have had your dark adventures, Your sudden adventures, or strange, or sweet . . . My peril goes out from me, is blown among you. We loiter, dreaming together, along the street.
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44
Mother nature we're killing you Pumping your air with a toxic brew ****** is the path we're taking And it's you we're forsaking Our need for industry and tree clearing Is for you not so endearing To our peril we do you a misdeed Humanity doesn't hear nor does it heed
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Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 7:35 PM UTC
Mother Nature
Go ahead and try and take advantage Of the situation that you’ve created You’ve got an unhappy customer on your hands A mad ************ That’s so impatient Demanding his previous payment No empty threats or bluffs Just concrete threats, That will be kept And Carried out If I don’t get the real deal Or my previous payment Tire slashes in your wheels Heinous phone calls Broken windows, Mark your peril, It’s only the beginning It’ll only get worse, If you keep me waiting, You haven’t heard the last, Perils and danger Mark you every step Go ahead and try and take advantage Of the situation that you’ve created You’ve got an unhappy customer on your hands That’s so impatient Demanding his previous payment You better watch your back And realize that this is a result Of you attempting to take control Of the situation you created You got a crazy mad ************ on your hands Demanding his previous payment No empty bluffs all concrete threats That will be kept If I don’t receive the real deal or my previous payment
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Jul 17, 2011
Jul 17, 2011 at 10:07 AM UTC
Mad ************ Unhappy Customer Drug Deals gone bad?
Mary Rose, the mighty sailing sea vessel glided majestically across the waves She had robustly and bravely sailed the briny waves for many a night and day With the ocean's heaving gusting squalls blowing off proud stern and mast Sailing victorious and proud - her billowing white sails were cast The calm, liquid waters of the sea flowed quietly purple for now- Unaware of the coming storm that would beat furious against her bow Her alabaster sails whipped violent and furious in the oncoming storm Impending doom was yelling its cries while the ****** went unwarned Down below, inside their cabins the ****** peacefully slept Wrapped in the secure watch that their gallant captain kept The oceans black, boiling waves beat savage against starboard and port As Captain Noe standing fearless - at first quake, did not the storm report The old wooden beams of the Mary Rose began to restlessly moan and creak While the blackened roaring, rolling waves beat furious against her feet Her alabaster sails rose proud- beating mighty against wailing squalls and gusts While deep inside the bow in bunks, the sleeping ****** ****** Suddenly...they heard the captain's distraught voice cry out When the ****** heard his voice -they heard fear without doubt “Awake, all of ye’ ”, Captain Noe forcefully roared “Alive! Awake… all ye’ ****** come quickly up on board”! The savage spirit of the sea reigned fierce with rage and fear While the brave captain fought - loyal ****** brought up the rear They courageously fought together - not silenced by the eye of death As the sea raged violently against them with its brutal, menacing breath To save their mighty Mary Rose, they’d dip their very souls in blood Leaving themselves merciless against this drunken, mighty flood With plank and bow standing fierce between them and their fate The raging ocean’s fierce, blackened waves - the sea they could not hate The morning brought the warming sun which rose broad above the waves The winds had tamed their violent voice against captain and ****** brave With unshakable courage and seaman’s wit not once were spirits broke Each cheered his mate and captain strong as they fought with steady stroke Their peril fought in days of danger and night filled with pain Their manly courage did not wane - their fight was not in vain For all the courageous ****** and their brave Captain Noe Joined together in hand and spirit to save...their proud Mary Rose
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Apr 10, 2013
Apr 10, 2013 at 6:15 PM UTC
Song Of The ****** And Their Ship Called Mary Rose
Mary Rose, the mighty sailing sea vessel glided majestically across the waves She had robustly and bravely sailed the briny waves for many a night and day With the ocean's heaving gusting squalls blowing off proud stern and mast Sailing victorious and proud - her billowing white sails were cast The calm, liquid waters of the sea flowed quietly purple for now- Unaware of the coming storm that would beat furious against her bow Her alabaster sails whipped violent and furious in the oncoming storm Impending doom was yelling its cries while the ****** went unwarned Down below, inside their cabins the ****** peacefully slept Wrapped in the secure watch that their gallant captain kept The oceans black, boiling waves beat savage against starboard and port As Captain Noe standing fearless - at first quake, did not the storm report The old wooden beams of the Mary Rose began to restlessly moan and creak While the blackened roaring, rolling waves beat furious against her feet Her alabaster sails rose proud- beating mighty against wailing squalls and gusts While deep inside the bow in bunks, the sleeping ****** ****** Suddenly...they heard the captain's distraught voice cry out When the ****** heard his voice -they heard fear without doubt “Awake, all of ye’ ”, Captain Noe forcefully roared “Alive! Awake… all ye’ ****** come quickly up on board”! The savage spirit of the sea reigned fierce with rage and fear While the brave captain fought - loyal ****** brought up the rear They courageously fought together - not silenced by the eye of death As the sea raged violently against them with its brutal, menacing breath To save their mighty Mary Rose, they’d dip their very souls in blood Leaving themselves merciless against this drunken, mighty flood With plank and bow standing fierce between them and their fate The raging ocean’s fierce, blackened waves - the sea they could not hate The morning brought the warming sun which rose broad above the waves The winds had tamed their violent voice against captain and ****** brave With unshakable courage and seaman’s wit not once were spirits broke Each cheered his mate and captain strong as they fought with steady stroke Their peril fought in days of danger and night filled with pain Their manly courage did not wane - their fight was not in vain For all the courageous ****** and their brave Captain Noe Joined together in hand and spirit to save...their proud Mary Rose
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36
Pedestrian haplessly waiting For a sign, symbol, anything... Signs that usher him forth. Only lead him from north. Modern hieroglyphs that say, Halt here... Go that way. Passing views that beckon Can't stop but keep direction Caution...peril impending. Beware...danger looming . Watch a storm is brewing. Stem from aeons' brooding. Pedestrian...not yet now... Crawling time you must allow. Pedestrian...maintain pace. Don't falter...maintain grace. Give not to desires' taunts. Crumble not to guilt that haunts. Keep moving, stay the course. Keep at bay, tearful remorse. Herd along...await instructions. Restrain all quiet tensions. Cage within, your sorrowful gait. Tempted not by beauty's bait. Pedestrian helplessly waiting. Between signs, you are searching. Free will here won't be met. Your final destination has been set. Has been set...
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Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 8:23 AM UTC
Pedestrian
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/first-date-17/ http://hellopoetry.com/poem/first-date-ii/ http://hellopoetry.com/poem/first-date-iii/ (best read in order) He blankets her with a mist that is fine and as pure as his postpartum soul is able to manifest. He’s sorry that she is sobbing on the dirt floor. He can’t think past the hunger that is beating upon her, which beats upon him. He is angry that his ancient predatory instincts are gaping to the fore. For the ancient being now gently weeping on a cold dirt floor. Why did he not recognize her? How did he get so lax in the thinking that cattle could disguise it self? A Wolf in Sheep’s clothing? Well... it’s not like he has not donned the same costume! He had been a Protector for so long. Rising each Sunset with the challenges that bring on the most predatory beasts that hunger for pain. He, alone, has stood beside Humanity to bring the world a semblance of normality, morality, a passing moment when they thought they were King of the world… but their inflated egos were never touched by doubt. Because of him. But she brings him down to the basest level. He feels… For her For her hunger For her emptiness For her utter contemptuousness She is the creature that he has been birthed to fight. The utter savageness that she brings forth when it becomes night. He alone, in eternity, wanders the earth to make Mortal life the one thing that is right. She lifts her head from the cold dirt floor to stare at him. He materializes as a persona that should scare her, one that heralds Death, but his emotions are fraught with peril. She is important to him. He may have been birthed to bring Death but he was never denied that one could become his Life. His pulse quickens, her eyes widen, her pulse quickens, he is afraid of the sight that lays bare in front of him. His fangs are buried deep in his bottom lip, he can not say a word even if his immortal soul depends on it. She licks her lips in hesitation, maybe anticipation; she could be licking her lips because of the small droplet of blood that lingers in the corner of her mouth. He wants to touch his tongue to said lips and cheek and ear and throat and, well HELL, he’s happy to continue south… as long as his tongue is touching skin… She looks away, briefly, and cries again. She is unable to fight past her hunger even though she has recognized the Protector. She needs protecting too! She’s so hungry! But from the swelling of his body, so is he…
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Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 5:28 AM UTC
First Date (IV)
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/first-date-17/ http://hellopoetry.com/poem/first-date-ii/ http://hellopoetry.com/poem/first-date-iii/ (best read in order) He blankets her with a mist that is fine and as pure as his postpartum soul is able to manifest. He’s sorry that she is sobbing on the dirt floor. He can’t think past the hunger that is beating upon her, which beats upon him. He is angry that his ancient predatory instincts are gaping to the fore. For the ancient being now gently weeping on a cold dirt floor. Why did he not recognize her? How did he get so lax in the thinking that cattle could disguise it self? A Wolf in Sheep’s clothing? Well... it’s not like he has not donned the same costume! He had been a Protector for so long. Rising each Sunset with the challenges that bring on the most predatory beasts that hunger for pain. He, alone, has stood beside Humanity to bring the world a semblance of normality, morality, a passing moment when they thought they were King of the world… but their inflated egos were never touched by doubt. Because of him. But she brings him down to the basest level. He feels… For her For her hunger For her emptiness For her utter contemptuousness She is the creature that he has been birthed to fight. The utter savageness that she brings forth when it becomes night. He alone, in eternity, wanders the earth to make Mortal life the one thing that is right. She lifts her head from the cold dirt floor to stare at him. He materializes as a persona that should scare her, one that heralds Death, but his emotions are fraught with peril. She is important to him. He may have been birthed to bring Death but he was never denied that one could become his Life. His pulse quickens, her eyes widen, her pulse quickens, he is afraid of the sight that lays bare in front of him. His fangs are buried deep in his bottom lip, he can not say a word even if his immortal soul depends on it. She licks her lips in hesitation, maybe anticipation; she could be licking her lips because of the small droplet of blood that lingers in the corner of her mouth. He wants to touch his tongue to said lips and cheek and ear and throat and, well HELL, he’s happy to continue south… as long as his tongue is touching skin… She looks away, briefly, and cries again. She is unable to fight past her hunger even though she has recognized the Protector. She needs protecting too! She’s so hungry! But from the swelling of his body, so is he…
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24
(To Ellen Terry) I marvel not Bassanio was so bold To peril all he had upon the lead, Or that proud Aragon bent low his head Or that Morocco’s fiery heart grew cold: For in that gorgeous dress of beaten gold Which is more golden than the golden sun No woman Veronese looked upon Was half so fair as thou whom I behold. Yet fairer when with wisdom as your shield The sober-suited lawyer’s gown you donned, And would not let the laws of Venice yield Antonio’s heart to that accursed Jew— O Portia! take my heart: it is thy due: I think I will not quarrel with the Bond.
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3.4k
Portia
Farewell, false love, the oracle of lies, A mortal foe and enemy to rest, An envious boy, from whom all cares arise, A ******* vile, a beast with rage possessed, A way of error, a temple full of treason, In all effects contrary unto reason. A poisoned serpent covered all with flowers, Mother of sighs, and murderer of repose, A sea of sorrows whence are drawn such showers As moisture lend to every grief that grows; A school of guile, a net of deep deceit, A gilded hook that holds a poisoned bait. A fortress foiled, which reason did defend, A siren song, a fever of the mind, A maze wherein affection finds no end, A raging cloud that runs before the wind, A substance like the shadow of the sun, A goal of grief for which the wisest run. A quenchless fire, a nurse of trembling fear, A path that leads to peril and mishap, A true retreat of sorrow and despair, An idle boy that sleeps in pleasure’s lap, A deep mistrust of that which certain seems, A hope of that which reason doubtful deems. Sith then thy trains my younger years betrayed, And for my faith ingratitude I find; And sith repentance hath my wrongs bewrayed, Whose course was ever contrary to kind: False love, desire, and beauty frail, adieu. Dead is the root whence all these fancies grew.
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3.2k
A Farewell To False Love
9/12/2014 consolation is a prize set upon golden sands that my feet are no longer invited to tread upon solace is a faraway whisper that is only loud enough to be heard in my dreams, and when i am woke, all hope proceeds to dwindle, and solace has gone forth to a new home, and i am left to a melancholic hum which pierces my ears like the tip of a steak knife, and i am left to sit and dream, but how doth the dreamer sing when all that is laid upon him is sorrow, and how doth the dreamer pray when the exodus tears him apart from his mates, and tell me how doth the dreamer love when all his life he hath known pain? how does the dreamer live, when he doth not see the light of the stars any longer, when he doth not feel the warmth of the sun upon his nape, when he doth not feel the wind outside his window? the stars have gone dim, the sun hath frozen outside of his dreams, and the wind doth try to blow him away away, far away, is that what the dreamer longs for? what does the dreamer long for when life no longer fits his fancy? i can say, i do not long for death, but maybe i do, for i am like this dreamer i once longed for the stars to envelop me in their light, and the sun to shield me with it's warmth, and the wind to wrap it's breeze around me but now i do not know what i long for the dreamer hath decayed, the life has begun to rot, the moon has begun to fall out of the sky, and i am afraid of what peril i, the dreamer, may face
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Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 6:19 AM UTC
The Dreamer
I'm in peril as soon as I'm in my mother's womb Unsure of whether I'll ever see the doctor's room And even if this world I'm allowed to see It's like stepping into a hive full of bees My brother gets new clothes while a get a broom When the guest come, I'm locked up in the room Being denied education because they feel it's of no use It's my own blood who does this; who should I accuse? I'm beaten up by my own father "You won't get food if you don't work harder!" I'm married off and sent away I'm to be my in - law's slave till my hair turns grey Dowry is another thing they torture me for I weep at night while my husband snores I try for jobs though I'm always denied "You have talent but the job is full" The manager lied Beaten black and blue by my drunk husband I have no clue what I did to offend The feeble rays of sunshine during monsoon describes my life I don't think it will be long before I pick up the kitchen knife For I will finally attain peace resting in my grave It's better to be dead than to be the world's slave
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Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 11:20 AM UTC
Atrocities To Women
Belonging to no masters Bowing to no shiny idol Formed as crashing waves Tsunami and the tidal Freeing enslaved minds Requiring no police From simplistic limerick To powerful treatise Capable to be inclusive of every type of mind From hideously critical To the wise and kind Between sanity - insanity The line delightfully blurs A home for loony writers Saboteurs and connoisseurs Ignore at poetry's peril This most mediocre rhyme The more that verse is policed The less that it will chime
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Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 7:30 AM UTC
Poetry is Anarchy
Clem, the rodeo clown wears a bold painted smile, a bright plaid shirt and bib overalls with cuffs too short for his legs. Between the rides and roping - Clem banters with the emcee, wheeling off groaners and scrambling in and out of his barrel- playing the air-headed bumpkin. But Clem is nobody's fool; when that gate opens, his real work begins. Bull and rider explode from the chute and the game is on. The cowboy weaves and writhes to stay on top for that eight golden seconds that will earn him his pay against a half ton of feral energy stomping and lurching to fling him to the earth. With eyes as keen as a hungry hawk, Clem tracks every buck and lurch for any peril sign - and then it happens: the rider is hurled airborne, landing inches from the driving hooves. Clem seizes the cowboy with a linebacker's grip and swings him safely over the fence as wranglers speed the bull from the ring. The show goes on and Clem has plenty more jokes for the crowd who knows he's never a barrel of laughs when a rider's life is on the line.
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Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 8:14 AM UTC
Brave Rodeo Clown
By: Cedric McClester Don’t drink the elixir That he’s trying to sell If you start believing him He'll catch you in his spell Avoid the snake oil salesman At all and any cost If you follow his advice You’ll truly be lost He’s a snake oil salesman Traveling state to state Trying to sell his portion That you're gonna learn to hate (2nd Verse) Don’t drink his elixir Though pleasant to the taste Some have bought it wholesale Others by the case Don’t believe the claims The snake oil salesman makes He’ll say or do anything That he thinks it takes He’s a snake oil salesman Traveling state to state Trying to sell his portion That you're gonna learn to hate He’ll never reveal what’s inside Of his opaque bottle But he wants you to take the ride While he goes full throttle He’s a snake oil salesman You better heed my warning It might be too late Once you’re underneath his awning He’s a snake oil salesman I’ve told you once before Cuz it’s at your own peril If you choose to ignore He’s a snake oil salesman Traveling state to state Trying to sell his portion That you'll learn to hate Don’t drink his elixir Though pleasant to the taste Some have bought it wholesale Others by the case Don’t believe the claims The snake oil salesman makes He’ll say or do anything That he thinks it takes Cedric McClester, Copyright (c) 2016. All rights reserved.
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Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 8:55 PM UTC
SNAKE OIL SALESMAN
1498 Glass was the Street—in tinsel Peril Tree and Traveller stood— Filled was the Air with merry venture Hearty with Boys the Road— Shot the lithe Sleds like shod vibrations Emphasized and gone It is the Past’s supreme italic Makes this Present mean—
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3.1k
Glass was the Street—in tinsel Peril
DARKEN HEART A gloomy heart can emit evil device, A darken mind can shut godly advice, We can not rise above the boundaries of our hearts, Our mindset becomes the reasons for our acts. When our mind is bonded with viciousness, We will lack peace and happiness, We will walk our ways without brightness, And our hearts will dealign from our consciousness. In darkness our lives lacks resolution, And it will wave our thoughts to suspension, We may even traverse to an anonymous destination, Which can sink us into the pool of depression. Our key to knowledge is in our brightness, But how can we find it in darkness? Our thoughts have darken our counsel, We must come to light until we excel. Darkness has created vacuum for suffering, And it has left us behind without resolving, Then we realized we reside in peril and destruction, And the steps we have taken have caused so much confusion.
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Sep 2, 2020
Sep 2, 2020 at 9:40 AM UTC
Darken heart