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"pernicious" poems
an identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfullyan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfullyan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfullyan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfullyan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfullyan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfullyan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfullyan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfullyan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfullyan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfullymix wonderfullymix wonderfully mix wonderfully mix wonderfully mix wonderfully mix wonderfully mix wonderfully
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Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 2:50 AM UTC
It Isn't Angst It's Art
an identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfullyan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfullyan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfullyan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfullyan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfully into an energy-giving pernicious compoundan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfullyan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfullyan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfullyan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfullyan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfullyan identity crisis and stabbing anxiety mix wonderfullymix wonderfullymix wonderfully mix wonderfully mix wonderfully mix wonderfully mix wonderfully mix wonderfully
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6
I drank because it was a little less toxic Than the sensation of drowning Swaying to the music I could forget The waves pulling me under for a moment I searched for comfort Among cold, hallow people Bones had never shown love And that didn't change I was left to my pernicious thoughts Little girls shouldn't be morbid But women aren't made of love Though it is a common misconception
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Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 9:35 PM UTC
Princess is a mean word
Love trusts, lust twists Love rains, lust drains Love reaches, lust catches Love couples, lust combines Love retains, lust detains Love relies, lust relays Love cares, lust caresses Love binds, lust blinds Love floats, lust flees Love belongs, lust longs Love ascends, lust descends Love fames, lust defames Love creates, lust recreates Love commands, lust demands Love chooses, lust chases Love boosts,  lust boasts Love at heart Lust in mind Love in lust is good Lust in love is better    Love likes privacy Lust looks for piracy Love opens lust Lust closes love Love is slow, lust is fast Love is steady and stable Lust is mobile and fragile Love is reliable, lust is liable Love is long, lust is short    Love is homogeneous Lust is heterogeneous Love is defensive Lust is offensive    Love is precious Lust is pernicious Love is supportive Lust is supplementary    Love is refined Lust is defined Love betters life Lust batters it.    Love has character Lust has conduct Love wins over Lust weans out    Love combines Lust divides Love is cool Lust is crazy Love is peaceful Lust is pleasant    Love is wholesome Lust is piecemeal Lust comes first Love becomes best Love is progressive Lust is aggressive Lust laminates Love illuminates Love is slow n steady Lust is hasty n nasty Love is dense, lust is tense Lust is conditioned, Love is air-conditioned    Lust is lovely to begin with Love is lustrous to end up Love heals, lust wounds Love owns, lust disowns    Love is onus, lust is onerous Love is basic, lust is allowance Love conforms, lust confuses Love binds, lust blinds Be aware of love Beware of lust That comes like wolf in sheep’s clothing Let the fair blend of love and lust rule  the roost
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Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 5:15 AM UTC
Dynamics of love
Love trusts, lust twists Love rains, lust drains Love reaches, lust catches Love couples, lust combines Love retains, lust detains Love relies, lust relays Love cares, lust caresses Love binds, lust blinds Love floats, lust flees Love belongs, lust longs Love ascends, lust descends Love fames, lust defames Love creates, lust recreates Love commands, lust demands Love chooses, lust chases Love boosts,  lust boasts Love at heart Lust in mind Love in lust is good Lust in love is better    Love likes privacy Lust looks for piracy Love opens lust Lust closes love Love is slow, lust is fast Love is steady and stable Lust is mobile and fragile Love is reliable, lust is liable Love is long, lust is short    Love is homogeneous Lust is heterogeneous Love is defensive Lust is offensive    Love is precious Lust is pernicious Love is supportive Lust is supplementary    Love is refined Lust is defined Love betters life Lust batters it.    Love has character Lust has conduct Love wins over Lust weans out    Love combines Lust divides Love is cool Lust is crazy Love is peaceful Lust is pleasant    Love is wholesome Lust is piecemeal Lust comes first Love becomes best Love is progressive Lust is aggressive Lust laminates Love illuminates Love is slow n steady Lust is hasty n nasty Love is dense, lust is tense Lust is conditioned, Love is air-conditioned    Lust is lovely to begin with Love is lustrous to end up Love heals, lust wounds Love owns, lust disowns    Love is onus, lust is onerous Love is basic, lust is allowance Love conforms, lust confuses Love binds, lust blinds Be aware of love Beware of lust That comes like wolf in sheep’s clothing Let the fair blend of love and lust rule  the roost
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79
The Dullard A well intentioned Comrade dropped Off a basket of learning Tools for my niece and nephew. Among the colorful array Of big red dogs And purple dinosaurs I find a book titled "God Thought of It First." I paused to consider Pernicious Anemia, Gary, Indiana, Republicans, The Ford Pinto... I sure never would Have thought of it.
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Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 8:58 AM UTC
The Dullard
i am the wiggling worm writhing on the slippery sidewalk on a cold, and dreary, rainy day. i weave the baleful boots yield the pernicious puddles on a cold, and dreary, rainy day. i am pelted by relentless rain pummeled by its wanton weight on a cold, and dreary, rainy day. you may ask, "why wiggling worm? why take this cursed course on a cold, and dreary, rainy day? have you no humbled home have you no able abode on a cold, and dreary, rainy day?" "i am the vivacious vagabond," i reply "i am admittedly ambulant, on this cold, and dreary, rainy day. because i must agnize affliction i must debase duress on this cold, and dreary, rainy day. if i am to appreciate the bountiful bloom i must know the duteous doom such as this cold, and dreary, rainy day.
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Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 3:25 PM UTC
The Wiggling Worm
We once burned witches... No. We burned people who were accused of being witches or practicing witchcraft... never proven but still burned.... burned alive... wether or not they were witches will remain unknown and why should it have mattered if they were, what excuse was that to have behaved so maliciously hateful and cruel I will tell you this though if I had been a witch or knew any kind of witchcraft the first thing i would have done is work out a fire proof charm perfected an unburnable spell an I can walk through the fire and feel a hell of a lot better after doing so spell a my blood and bones burn hotter than the sun spell a you better get that little matchstick outta my face spell before I show you how to burn THE REAL MONSTERS here spell the monsters with the lust to watch flesh turn to cinder and ash monsters the monsters who feared the unordinary who showed any kind of extraordinary monsters the monsters of the masses with crosses that burned like torches monsters the monsters who screamed ****** in the name of.... monsters the monsters who could not see their own reflection for the hideous creatures they were monsters the same monsters that still live today on this side of the looking glasses under our thin skinned social structure still burning witches subtly now with words of disdain full of pernicious intentions towards the lost and the lonely with the cold staring eyes of indifference and hearts without an once of compassion towards the homeless and hungry with the revulsion and abhorrence towards those who love the ones they love the witches being any unordinary that show any kind of extraordinary still being feared for their difference still being hated reduced to nothing but pill size suicides red ribboned wrists rope neck ties for feeling too much pushing too far flying too high dancing in cinder to ash being burned burned for being alive
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Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 3:32 AM UTC
Monsters and Witches
We once burned witches... No. We burned people who were accused of being witches or practicing witchcraft... never proven but still burned.... burned alive... wether or not they were witches will remain unknown and why should it have mattered if they were, what excuse was that to have behaved so maliciously hateful and cruel I will tell you this though if I had been a witch or knew any kind of witchcraft the first thing i would have done is work out a fire proof charm perfected an unburnable spell an I can walk through the fire and feel a hell of a lot better after doing so spell a my blood and bones burn hotter than the sun spell a you better get that little matchstick outta my face spell before I show you how to burn THE REAL MONSTERS here spell the monsters with the lust to watch flesh turn to cinder and ash monsters the monsters who feared the unordinary who showed any kind of extraordinary monsters the monsters of the masses with crosses that burned like torches monsters the monsters who screamed ****** in the name of.... monsters the monsters who could not see their own reflection for the hideous creatures they were monsters the same monsters that still live today on this side of the looking glasses under our thin skinned social structure still burning witches subtly now with words of disdain full of pernicious intentions towards the lost and the lonely with the cold staring eyes of indifference and hearts without an once of compassion towards the homeless and hungry with the revulsion and abhorrence towards those who love the ones they love the witches being any unordinary that show any kind of extraordinary still being feared for their difference still being hated reduced to nothing but pill size suicides red ribboned wrists rope neck ties for feeling too much pushing too far flying too high dancing in cinder to ash being burned burned for being alive
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71
If only we could begin again and slow down the pernicious pace We ruin our oceans, the land, our air even outer space. If only we avoided such precarious paths that may lead to disparity If only we knew what action is needed now, to deal with the reality. Ecologists warned, yet still observe with ever-growing anxiety the growth of harmful long-term effects on Earth's biodiversity. If only the air wasn't gravely polluted, so the atmosphere begins to fail, so wreathed by carbon dioxide layers, extremes to climate may prevail. If only Earth's lungs cease being shrunk by profits heedless exploitation, existing relationships are considered scarcely in these aberrations. If only a solution for discarded synthetics which float in ugly hordes on oceans global drifts, disaster occurs wherever it reaches landfall. If only we can do something, a belated but resounding universal call, If only we can safeguard the future before there are no options at all. If only we could begin again and slow the ruinous pace... if only If Only M C Crowder @scorsby 19th November 2018
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Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 12:00 PM UTC
If Only
Pernicious mind, stop eating me! Incessant head, oh, can’t you sleep? I’ve moved beyond mental Have approached the eternal But god’s still a mystery at times I’m a husk Shrinking back at times from light of open mind Find a spot to fester if I’m feeling like a sore Swaying mendicant head of sweating adolescence Jacking off verbosity Shut me up, Oh Lord! Now all given way to spiritual ************ ********* a smile if I’m too tapped out for joy. ****** slips away, I’m naked in God’s hand— Surrendered to the will of some other spirit’s blood.
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Aug 17, 2011
Aug 17, 2011 at 8:23 PM UTC
Spiritual ************
1753 Through those old Grounds of memory, The sauntering alone Is a divine intemperance A prudent man would shun. Of liquors that are vended ’Tis easy to beware But statutes do not meddle With the internal bar. Pernicious as the sunset Permitting to pursue But impotent to gather, The tranquil perfidy Alloys our firmer moments With that severest gold Convenient to the longing But otherwise withheld.
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3.8k
Through those old Grounds of memory
Teach me, if thou can-forgetfulness! Teach me how to forget thee, for I ain't worthy of these feelings. I am undeserving of thy love-for I can only dwell in and cherish it- I cannot give thee yon pleasure, my love. Pleasure- and its affectionate satisfaction-t'ose two-o but amusements, the ones whom thou so dearly adore- are but a sin to me, a sin so brief and beautiful but even more ungrateful then the unblinking foliage-into which I am unwilling to sink. Aye, forgetfulness shall be a mercy to me. For in such idiocy have I dreamed-dreamed of being in thy lovely arms, absorbed in the mist of thy charms. But I can never be so! Even dreaming shall I be refrained from-I can never hug thee-even in my deepest tempestuous fears. Thou are t'at bizarre light that roam the stones of my pernicious dreams. But Thou despiseth me- how thou hate me, thou who shall never glance back in my last breath, thou who but condemn me-I, should t'is world be altered, shall still remain thy sudden wound; I am but a flawed work of insulting wretchedness. Then teach me- teach me, my love, invade my heart-and grasp my veins, rob my of my dearly, dearly affection- for thee, yes, which was born only for thee- and leave me loveless, just as no-one flatters me and endorse my feelings, in t'is very loneliness.
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Jan 9, 2013
Jan 9, 2013 at 6:13 PM UTC
Love's Last Lesson
Look at all the parrots-- Parroting the words Of all the other parrots-- Of all the other birds-- Parroting profusely All the same refrains-- Parroting the constant patter In their parrot brains-- Parroting the preaching From the pulpit to the pews-- Parroting their parents' And their parents' parents' views-- Parroting their leaders And their pompous platitudes-- Parroting their peers' Pretentious attitudes-- Parroting the patriarchs' Proselytizing that'll Put your teeth on edge With their pathetic prattle-- Parroting the poppycock Of trite pontifications-- Parroting pernicious And sly manipulations-- Parroting the pretty birds Whose pageantry and glory Appeal to their prurient tastes In each pathetic story-- Parroting the songsters With parasitic pleasure And counting out the rhythm Of every pitiful measure-- Parroting the powerful Whose ploys are so profuse, Leaving the powerless Pummeled with abuse-- Parroting with passion Presumptuous prophesies With putative contrition, "Humbly" on their knees-- Parroting themselves-- Together all in sync-- How they love to parrot So they don't have to think! - by Bob B
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Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 8:10 AM UTC
Look at All the Parrots!
Muffin milks the tiny teet of a tête-à-tête torn apart by warring factions. slowly spitting the purple plum dribbling, oozing over the convex lips which kissed and kissed. Cream juices the cocky caucuses of cordial cacophony. Moist middlers meddle amidst businesses of their own interest. Power is power better bear than bottom but everyone is ****** Lap the ego from the firehose, the giant member of the state spraying like a cat claiming "mine!" Hellbound, hell no he'll save us everything is going to **** One man job to make us come out of the 17th hole sand pit of our pernicious premier club membership.
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Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 1:56 AM UTC
******** Year
*Elemental Metamorphosis & Transcendental Milestones, Sempiternal Origamis Of Her Temperamental Clones, Spiraling Perpetuities & Her Sacrosanct Fortitude, Procreating Tipsy Ruptures In Her Permeating Solitude, Perplexed Momentum & Her Outlandish Constellations, Nuclear Decay Of Her Masked Radiations, Verbal Shadows & Her Tranquil Ascendance, Encasing Her Tears In Liquefied Transcendence, Yearning Oddities & Entropic Oceans, Vitalizing Inexorable Emotions Into Phosphorescent Potions, An Hourglass Existence Of Her Fabricated Virility, Dwelling In Quantum Ascents Of Ardent Agility, Silver Ghosts Of Her Prismatic Abyss, Convicting Glass Houses In Her Ecstatic Bliss, Telepathic Shades & Hollow Palisades, Detrimental Novelists On Uncharted Crusades, Pernicious Scars In Her Profound Gaze, Erupting Genesis Inside Her Dimensional Maze, Perplexed Periphery & Digital Fictions, Annexed By Her Hourglass Depictions, Breakdown Sanity & Her Concealed Screams, Lifelike Dewdrops In Her Visionary Dreams, Satellite Searchlights & Love//Less Progenic Mutation, Paralyzed Sunlight Sparking Genetic Alteration, Monochromatic Streams & Cinematic Realms, Static Screams Of Her Toxic Schemes. - 05:43 AM -*
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Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 11:18 PM UTC
Elemental Metamorphosis & Transcendental Milestones
servants to society they roam with blank, controlled minds, meaningless obsessions fuelled by selfish desires, unkind. grandiose, pointless gestures declaring nothing, self-importance derived from insistent buzzing. absorbed by devices holding existence hostage, vacant stares, virtual prison, lack of interest and knowledge. Protected by the guise of communication, slowly ripping society from its very foundation. engrossed by nothing that matters, materialism, image, being flattered, pretentious clones, lifestyle fictitious there’s always a bigger picture, but they’re preoccupied, pernicious. disadvantaged by modern living, people can be untrustworthy, people are unforgiving, misleading technology, cruel traits heightened, an entire race believing we are enlightened.
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Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 6:47 PM UTC
Modern Society
Yep. They're out there. Pens ablaze. Out to startle and amaze. Quite adept at turn of phrase. Leaving people in a daze. Set the fire. Smoke's a haze. The arsonist's pernicious ways. Before you know it reps are razed. Even tho my flank is grazed I won't worry. I'm unfazed. Don't base my worth upon your praise.
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Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 1:42 PM UTC
pens ablaze
I'm afraid.  Simple as that. Just irrational fear. Complex in the cracks. The dark envelops me. Blinding me and quickening my heart. Even though a game, I start to scream. Trying to rip this closet door apart. The tears dampening my face. My breathing changing pace. My mind plays games just like the others. I cant even steady my hands. Then light.  Sweet, forgiving, white knight in the form of a filament. I wipe my face, realizing the blood that covered my fingers. Where was this savior that had been sent? His smell lingers. He stood tall.  Dark. Faceless. His hand brushes my face, My neck, *****  I look up to see a familiar, yet unnamed, face.  His pernicious smirk haunts me. Swift air brushes past my face followed by sharp sting. He leans into me, his lips touching my ear, His tone is sarcastic and grave. "Welcome back, slave"
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Sep 25, 2012
Sep 25, 2012 at 11:05 PM UTC
Fearful Return
I speak the language of the ambiguous man Two false tunnels leading to the paradise once existent Suffocating in the soul the heart pumps mysterious labyrinths Intricate twists, lively turns, dead ends, corrupt memories All leading to the same two doors Handles made from cherry blossom to conceal ****** wrists Misleading as barren rock behind the sodden waterfall And deceitful as the smiles of killers pending demise I like to fool the world with my duplicitous decisons Peeping through one door just to go through the other There lay two paths divided in a somber world The ambiguity of man prevails Only when a single door leads to the innocent simplicity But the truth about lies prevail When the man not knows what he does And navigates through his own mindful solitude I intrude in a broken world filled with people most pernicious Some call them deceivers while some call them philosophers Depends on how they see the truth of ambiguity Two parallel bridges to cross a sea most demoniac While only one bridge armed with the truthful support But the world feels much too simple without rails to grasp As there is nothing to hinder the peaceful descent Smoothly into that paradise once existent I'd fairly not speak about the truthful man But rather the lying hero For he has more knowledge with the concept of ambiguity But whom does the stray bullet in the revolver take? The truthful man or the lying hero? If the truthful man chooses not the rails out of pride And the lying hero slashes his wrists out of regret At first I settle with those who favor the liar But if I had two bullets I would see that the pride would also suffice As the ambiguous man shall die twice For ambiguity is anything but simplicity
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Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 1:15 AM UTC
Ambiguity
I speak the language of the ambiguous man Two false tunnels leading to the paradise once existent Suffocating in the soul the heart pumps mysterious labyrinths Intricate twists, lively turns, dead ends, corrupt memories All leading to the same two doors Handles made from cherry blossom to conceal ****** wrists Misleading as barren rock behind the sodden waterfall And deceitful as the smiles of killers pending demise I like to fool the world with my duplicitous decisons Peeping through one door just to go through the other There lay two paths divided in a somber world The ambiguity of man prevails Only when a single door leads to the innocent simplicity But the truth about lies prevail When the man not knows what he does And navigates through his own mindful solitude I intrude in a broken world filled with people most pernicious Some call them deceivers while some call them philosophers Depends on how they see the truth of ambiguity Two parallel bridges to cross a sea most demoniac While only one bridge armed with the truthful support But the world feels much too simple without rails to grasp As there is nothing to hinder the peaceful descent Smoothly into that paradise once existent I'd fairly not speak about the truthful man But rather the lying hero For he has more knowledge with the concept of ambiguity But whom does the stray bullet in the revolver take? The truthful man or the lying hero? If the truthful man chooses not the rails out of pride And the lying hero slashes his wrists out of regret At first I settle with those who favor the liar But if I had two bullets I would see that the pride would also suffice As the ambiguous man shall die twice For ambiguity is anything but simplicity
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36
***Our souls are enfettered By an Inexorable Penance, Sorrows & Lamentations:*** In pining for The Light of Transmutation The Adamantine Wings Of Stalwart Bahamut Unburdened our etherealized hearts. (Speaking for the future) Spira has lost its Yoke of Communion To this Cimmerian Millennium. Redemption’s Revelation: Aeonic sin hath reigned Under the Cathedral of Deception Forged by the taught tongues **Of Yevon; Despotic Lunae Eclipsed the light Of a forlorn sky, Divine Pantheon For Numen of Sol.** Cast a Stygian Shadow of Sanctimonious Suffering for Souls. Seems eternal; truly, ephemeral. **For, the Hearts of nations Are Sacrosanct Luminaries.** Our tears Have been shed, Our vanities Indemnified. **Skies shall bleed Empyrean Bliss And The Opus of Life Shall cleanse This wearied Spira of Pernicious Sin.** (Amen.)***
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Sep 25, 2017
Sep 25, 2017 at 5:47 AM UTC
Via Purifico (Originally Penned in September of 2017)
Pickled on quixotic tonics he strives for a polyglot's poise, balancing plaster peas at the end of his tippler's tongue. But the rough-surfaced pearls prickle his too-ticklish bed of pink, and gulped down, he administers only a lessoned indigestion. Flipping the flop, he prevaricates himself into the tight-fit corners of a parallelogram traced by unsolemn processionals bedecked in platitudinous finery. Their porous smirks drip sticky reminders of a plethora of previously pernicious exercises and dampen his fluffy ambition, prodding procrastinations until his drunken promise dries out to become a posthumous wish.
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Apr 7, 2010
Apr 7, 2010 at 5:03 PM UTC
Pickled
I invite thee, I invite thee; to sit by and tell a story. I shall be comely and pretty; you'll be tempted to flirt with me. I shall leave behind the crude waves; and my underwater bleak cave. I want to see lands and be brave; seek the prince I've so longed to have. I shall turn into a human; a fair-skinned rosy young maiden. I shall wait for thee by that rock, while straightening up my dark lock. I shall wear my long black hair down; I shall be dressed in my red gown. I shall sing my love song to you; Whose lyrics are so clear and true. I shall blush at the sight of thee; I shall turn red and be naughty. I shall make thee feel heavenly; I shall make thee fall in love with me. I shall look deep into thy eyes; As dusk falls and night turn to rise. I shall lay my head in thy arms; be swept and swirled lost in thy charms. I shall taste the scent of thy lips; Kiss the curves of thy fingertips. My mouth driven 'round thy sweet tongue, As thou embrace me all along. I am but thirsty for one love, love that consoles, love that can heal. Love that makes me stronger and tough, love that understands what I feel. I am hungry for a lover, who can kiss and love me better. when far rolls a pernicious storm; He shall calm me and hug me warm. I long to meet but one sincere; One whose heart gentle and tender. Whose heart has neither grief nor rage; Sweet and mature for one his age. I am in search for a husband, who's willing to learn and listen. He shall make everything bad good; he lights my charm; he tames my mood. Such a flawless husband like him, is indeed every woman's dream. He shall be my wise companion; not just oneself of temptations. Such a generous man like him; perhaps lives only in poetry. But I believe as weird it seems; I shall find him in reality. He shall indeed be my dream man; both a husband and faithful friend. He shall kiss away all this pain; he shall keep me safe by his hand. He shall be my one truest king; for whom I write, to whom I sing. Be his lifelong and faithful wife, from now on; 'till the afterlife.
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Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 11:40 AM UTC
The Mermaid
I invite thee, I invite thee; to sit by and tell a story. I shall be comely and pretty; you'll be tempted to flirt with me. I shall leave behind the crude waves; and my underwater bleak cave. I want to see lands and be brave; seek the prince I've so longed to have. I shall turn into a human; a fair-skinned rosy young maiden. I shall wait for thee by that rock, while straightening up my dark lock. I shall wear my long black hair down; I shall be dressed in my red gown. I shall sing my love song to you; Whose lyrics are so clear and true. I shall blush at the sight of thee; I shall turn red and be naughty. I shall make thee feel heavenly; I shall make thee fall in love with me. I shall look deep into thy eyes; As dusk falls and night turn to rise. I shall lay my head in thy arms; be swept and swirled lost in thy charms. I shall taste the scent of thy lips; Kiss the curves of thy fingertips. My mouth driven 'round thy sweet tongue, As thou embrace me all along. I am but thirsty for one love, love that consoles, love that can heal. Love that makes me stronger and tough, love that understands what I feel. I am hungry for a lover, who can kiss and love me better. when far rolls a pernicious storm; He shall calm me and hug me warm. I long to meet but one sincere; One whose heart gentle and tender. Whose heart has neither grief nor rage; Sweet and mature for one his age. I am in search for a husband, who's willing to learn and listen. He shall make everything bad good; he lights my charm; he tames my mood. Such a flawless husband like him, is indeed every woman's dream. He shall be my wise companion; not just oneself of temptations. Such a generous man like him; perhaps lives only in poetry. But I believe as weird it seems; I shall find him in reality. He shall indeed be my dream man; both a husband and faithful friend. He shall kiss away all this pain; he shall keep me safe by his hand. He shall be my one truest king; for whom I write, to whom I sing. Be his lifelong and faithful wife, from now on; 'till the afterlife.
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60
A perturbed philosoper perches precariously atop a pedestal, preaching in poetic prose of the pernicious pitfalls of man's avowal to avarice; as a braindead banker bellows "BUY BONDS!" and boasts boisterously of his brand new Bugatti.
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Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 6:33 PM UTC
Alliteration #2
If you're the blanket then I'm the stitches, If you're the needle then I'm the mittens, If you're the water then I'm the kettle And if you're the rash then I'm the nettle. If I'm the icing on the cake Then you're the blow, the burn, the break. If I'm the claws of a neighbour's cat Then you're the nose of each dead rat. If I'm the clock on the microwave Then you're the cancer and the grave And if I'm a schemer's dossier Then you're the board on which he plays. If you're the hair pulled at hysterically Then I'm the teacher steeped in austerity. If you're the cuff that's come unrolled Then I'm the base camp unpatrolled. If you're the tea leaves left behind Then I'm the fortune undivined And if you're the reason I'm capricious Then I'm the reason you're pernicious. If I'm the strap, love, you're the sandal, And if I'm the drugs then you're the scandal. If you're goodbye, love, I'm the foyer, And if I am "je" then you're "tutoyer".
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Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 2:50 PM UTC
Pour Tutoyer
Her. reeking of cheap perfume and daddy issues polyester black cloth elegant, purposeful in its placing “everything is free if you run fast enough” something was going to **** her anyway why not let it be something of her own design? taking a drag of her pernicious cigarette forcing careful and cultivated opinions if only to silence the sadist inside she had already walked in loneliness full of satin bows and amusement so it might as have happened now because everyone always loves you better when you’re dead
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Apr 1, 2019
Apr 1, 2019 at 12:20 PM UTC
her.
Does it matter more to you that you care for others or that others care for you? Would you take a series of bullets Would you leap before a dashing car Would you dance on sweltering embers for the sake of one who does you nought in return? Wouldn’t most or wouldn’t anyone endure the worst for acknowledgement and commendation… I try to be gallant—self-sacrificial, Try to be benevolent, bleeding heart beyond comprehension Yet am I worse than the slaughterers? The iniquitous, the rest? No more than the vile, reprobate, devilish… For who, after all, Cast oneself beyond forgiveness The felon who would exploit acts of selflessness To assemble his own Maleficent, pernicious lair Of praise, acclaim, and comfort.
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Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 5:52 PM UTC
Which Matters More
Your love, devoted and passionate, yet proprietorial.   Your alluring fingers trekked down my arm, tearing my skin in halves, like the my confidant pal on my wrist. Your faithful kisses all over me, reminding me of the possession; your spirit. Your dilating pupils, stone-cold and quiet like the winter, cutting off the vessels of my heart. Clinging on me seductively, and yet pernicious, its your love;
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Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 10:41 AM UTC
Your love;