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"pettles" poems
I used to tend to sunflowers, Nurtured and nurished their seeds, Through soft songs and flourished hours, Their beauty a mirror to my needs, It feeds a hole in my life's fabric, One I cared not for to stitch in time, So the hole has become a scar and what's tragic, Is my sunflowers died and buried into that hole of mine, I have spent years regretting, Pulling away pettles and crying over the fact they won't regrow, But though I knew not at the time I wasnt letting, My sunflowers growing new and so, In time I came to remember, Something I concede that I should already know, That the rotten dreams of last December, Are mulch from which new sunflowers will grow, So what if the sunflowers of my past may never not return, So what if my fabrics torn and gaping gap will never mend, The new seeds that I soe are now my new concern, I have new sunflowers now to tend.
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May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 1:19 PM UTC
Sunflowers
I long for day time to close her eyes, So lessons can begin, When closing doors and curtains means it's time to take you in, My teacher, master if you will, My guide to all things sultry, My lover shows me such good things, This feels like it's adultery. You make me sit upon a bed, Awash with lilac pettles, You kiss my eyes, i feel your breath on me, It helps me settle, My clothes slide off, as if by magic, All soft and gently so, Your finger tips caress my body, Sensuous and slow, My ******* harden to your mouth, My breath is short and shallow, I take a lesson on felacio, and learn just how to swallow, My education carries, i'm straddled, And you release it, My hips girate, and take you all, I hardly can believe it, Our climactic yells and groans confirm our satisfaction, I shiver, moving gently now, you peak all my reactions, Our love is sealed with oneness, here i am, I'm wrapped around you, My night school teacher loves me, Night and day, thank god i've found you
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Jul 27, 2010
Jul 27, 2010 at 7:56 AM UTC
night school
torn flower pettles engulf the vastness, devoid of time and reality, of the growing distance. a floral bath doused in flourescence. the white lilies that signify a grave. your charred corpse, a bloated bag, floats in a putrefying stasis. only half a daisy-boy beauty. the water fizzles into acid. the hyacinths wither into amorphous globules. gap tooth dissolves.
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Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 1:07 PM UTC
spring
I over looked your flaws Your inability to love anybody but yourself Your inability to feel empathetic The fact you were so insecure All your problems How you seemed to destroy Everything you could wrap your poison claws around I was once a beautiful carnation I opened up to you but you just tore everything apart Piece by piece you pulled me apart Scattering my pettles along the cold ground Grinding my love into the dirt You left me emotionally detached You turned me into you As ****** up That is not something you do when you love someone You are upset that I left you Because you left me Thats not fair I left you All you are to me Is a years worth of scars For I would rather have felt physical pain Then the throbbing thoughts of you Transforming me into a demon myself A mental photograph of terrible images Images of you over me Pinning me on the bed Images I cannot burn no matter how hard I try A hole in my dry orchard heart Which is slowly healing You are just upset Because you can no longer control me
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Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 10:09 PM UTC
Fire Escape
white pettles on ground heavy trees with rain present path i now do walk
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May 4, 2024
May 4, 2024 at 3:55 PM UTC
haiku 24/5/4a
To the mourning star of sorrow , inside the curtains drawn inside , a herse pulls up to weeping the young mans life now in a casket lay , With cobwebs to cover his head , for now he is dead . Once bright lights  of stardom with Limosens await , starlights fame , a spotlight that one day grew dim .For now  death and Christ await .., For to much liquor and money , to many ladies and ***** , and the gypsy he sang captivated my love of solitude . A ghost book from my grans book case , tales of 20,000 leagues under the sea , the skull , It’s pages I turned what fantasy in this old book I learned . and so to the gypsy with grinding tale of whips and shacks , and a poor boys love for that gypsy girl . Even now unto this day they play this song it won’t go away , In Shepherd’s Bush s music halls to two thousand expecting hordes , that song lives ever on . So what is love only that it must be perused , or our lives become catacombs, and our hearts encased in tombs . . Our 20,000. Leagues we fall , deeper and deeper where there is no love at all , just a skull on a shelf to watch it all . Then save your love for pettles and flowers for above all these things Gods love towers , Wrapped up in Mary’s arms , Lies Gods gift of love to man , a spralling baby who’s arms stretched out in love , this infant child covered in blood it cries . Like every other in Linon cloth lay , that stars and Kings adore .
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Dec 15, 2018
Dec 15, 2018 at 5:35 AM UTC
Everybody s star ( tales from my grandmas cupboard and other stories )
Somewhere, right now, soulmates are meeting. Somewhere, right now, lovers are departing. Somewhere right now, a lonely man is sipping the last drops of his fifth bottle. Somewhere, a daughter is watching her father drive away for the last time. Somewhere a little boy sits with a therapist locking words under his tongue. Somewhere a blade is being introduced to raw flesh. Somewhere, right now a young life is being put in the ground, with a psychiatrist pondering at what he could have done to save her. Somewhere right now, pettles are being ripped from flowers by hearts wondering if they're loved. Somewhere right now a nurse is changing the sheets on what used to be a death bed. Somewhere right now, a ship is sinking into the bottom of deep waters that don't promise revival. Somewhere right now someone is crying out to a God who doesn't exist to listen. Somewhere right now hands are being held in the back of churches in remembrance of loved ones gone. Somewhere a song is playing that brings tears to the eyes of ones who haven't lived long enough to feel. Somewhere letters are being sent to houses that are vacant. Somewhere doors are being shut in the faces of those who have never known what its like to crave loneliness. Somewhere there are all these things. I'm here, you're there. I don't know where there is; but its lucky to have you.
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Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 3:02 PM UTC
Somewhere
taking off my clothes piece by piece, dropping it effortlessly behind me until i reach the bathtub filled with water and white rose pettles. grasping my blade a long cold piece of metal which takes my worries and feelings away my best friend, my only friend. bringing it to my wrist releasing all that was needed, but the joy became strong i kept going until the water ran red the rose pettles changed colour and i was drifting in and out of consciousnesses. now im laying in the bathtub my lifeless body being drained of every last drop of life, not knowing who will discover im no longer here or when that will happen. the purge was too strong free flowing blood a craving an addiction turning into my last moments and a bloodbath.
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May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 7:50 PM UTC
Purge!
Step by step This path goes up and down Up and up ever higher It leads to the tops of mountains Sight by sight I witness natures miracles Dirt and leaves and flower pettles Undergrowths of fern    Its not the destination Its the journey That leads me here again I always find god in the mountains Step by step Its just a memory It's been too long The way the sun breaks through the clouds And all the colors A kaleidascope valley The beauty of it all I always find god in the mountains Its the journey Its not knowing what the next step brings But always hoping It leads me to myself I always find god in the mountains
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Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 11:26 PM UTC
mountains