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"pleasantness" poems
#*Might there be a fountain where souls long dead from thirst find spirits raised to life in floods abounding free, so that what once walked as corpse, night-bound and blind, may see? Old self exchanged for Treasure, diving in tastes such rejuvenation as can't be weighed by mortal measure— wine unlike our earth-grown fruit whose petals fall, from this Vine flowers the pleasantness of Love Divine which bathes in healing waters all who come as humble newborn with bold **** to dine.*#
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May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 12:29 PM UTC
Fountainhead
#*Might there be a fountain where souls long dead from thirst find spirits raised to life in floods abounding free, so that what once walked as corpse, night-bound and blind, may see? Old self exchanged for Treasure, diving in tastes such rejuvenation as can't be weighed by mortal measure— wine unlike our earth-grown fruit whose petals fall, from this Vine flowers the pleasantness of Love Divine which bathes in healing waters all who come as humble newborn with bold **** to dine.*#
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Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 12:13 PM UTC
Fountainhead
I. The colours drain out, What stayed behind was black and white Nothing in between, the two extremes, Purity of white, darkness of black, The two pure shades. Of all the things I saw in their vision, Nothing perfectly seemed right in place. I forgot that nothing here was so extreme, No one or thing was a whole of black or white, That the world is but a shade of grey. II. Those people brought in a sense of belonging to me, And in them I see colour again, The reds of love and hate, The blues of peace and sadness, The greens of pleasantness and riches, The yellows of brightness and smiles. The white and the black influenced now my perception of it, With the pleasant mixes of the colours themselves, And under the blue sky and the brown earth, I see the world as an ever evolving piece of art.
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Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 8:02 PM UTC
In Between (Part. 1 & Part. 2)
Zeus and Amphitrite edge of the sea reflecting down looking up god or goddess reflecting the same draped in gold Hercules Coronal Borealis Great Wall superstructure feathered on the shoulders skyward brilliance reflecting shaking future stars comets meteors meteoroids asteroids meteorites rain down around deafening sound of the greatest thunder bolt hear me hear her **** this **** that roll good times patience is virtue zero point generosity kindness affection pleasantness waiting on the ecliptic plane sun and heavens where hummingbirds dragonflies soaring creatures rise out of the abyss propelled and lifted seahorse air bubbles octopuses chant straight ******* propulsion ****** velocity magic of the darkness ready set giddy up
0
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 5:08 PM UTC
Ζεύς and Ἀμφιτρίτη
Crimson maple buds magically pucker under brightening skies Lenten rose reluctantly unfolds absolving the shadowed snow, stemming the wintertide Spring's impending bloom mystically stirs the delicate human heart   soothing from outside its sheltering shell A converging pleasantness of a sunshine sown awakening cleanses each morning breath drawn to sate an urgent restrained longing The wilderness carpet comes alive with a burgeoning salient sweetness drawing out a glimmer of gladness from stale suffocating darkness’ wallowing in the winter ennui Another kind of poignant balm sinks from the tall mountain willow tree touching the sprouting blue sky Furry fragrant catkins blossom sweetly like the remnants of a love once known softly brushing against a fading memory of unerasable stains begrudgingly beget Like fawning flowers falling fallow in a passing season’s pollination breeze Manipulating frayed heartstrings, unhealed as the deer peeled scars and rubbed bark of a mountain willow, scarred  from another season past Some protective shell ― never grows back when benign heartwood is brought to light harlon rivers ... Spring 2018
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Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 11:59 AM UTC
Spring Mountain Willow
Joshua tree Across the high California desert you stand with lifted salutation off the beaten path the drift Of sea moisture mingles with tule fog rising from the desert floor you have briefly entered an alien World a brooding connection develops with London’s fog shrouded streets or the Arden with its Identification with It being the one natural barrier to the advancing Roman’s might and Shakespeare’s Play the woods for him was familiar but a place where change to ones fortune could occur and one Could find love mist is one of the times that a magic wand was effectively waved it produced a myriad Of realties notable connections a display that reaches the far borders of wonder pleasantness infringes On the harder order of the desert’s hotter principles farther east the great desert sentry looms above All else the saguaro cactus also raises its arms as the Joshua giving thanks for life in a stark and Burdensome land rock and scrub fills this place it takes time to appreciate such bitter circumstances But you can sink thoughtful roots that will play a symphony between sun and shadow and all the living Things that eke out a living there are a breed of people that thrive here also they can teach a lot to Others live on less you would be amazed how refreshing simple living can be get to much you find Fun squeezed out of the seams of the so called good life just think in this term when does water taste Like heavenly nectar when you have been deprived and are at a loss to find it the abundance of anything Can temper its value death swiftly occurs when the spirit of taking things for granted pervades those Times that are riveting and create completeness in us are by nature rare and treasured you don’t have To trek to far off deserts or faraway places a child’s youthful smile that is slipping away When tenderness flows and she makes your heart glow know my friend you are blessed with God’s best for all of earths time a husbands Gentle laugh his look that stirs you deeply these are but three of rarified finds that are in your life Enjoy treasure them they are personal gifts you possess today
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Jan 9, 2012
Jan 9, 2012 at 6:51 PM UTC
Joshua tree
Joshua tree Across the high California desert you stand with lifted salutation off the beaten path the drift Of sea moisture mingles with tule fog rising from the desert floor you have briefly entered an alien World a brooding connection develops with London’s fog shrouded streets or the Arden with its Identification with It being the one natural barrier to the advancing Roman’s might and Shakespeare’s Play the woods for him was familiar but a place where change to ones fortune could occur and one Could find love mist is one of the times that a magic wand was effectively waved it produced a myriad Of realties notable connections a display that reaches the far borders of wonder pleasantness infringes On the harder order of the desert’s hotter principles farther east the great desert sentry looms above All else the saguaro cactus also raises its arms as the Joshua giving thanks for life in a stark and Burdensome land rock and scrub fills this place it takes time to appreciate such bitter circumstances But you can sink thoughtful roots that will play a symphony between sun and shadow and all the living Things that eke out a living there are a breed of people that thrive here also they can teach a lot to Others live on less you would be amazed how refreshing simple living can be get to much you find Fun squeezed out of the seams of the so called good life just think in this term when does water taste Like heavenly nectar when you have been deprived and are at a loss to find it the abundance of anything Can temper its value death swiftly occurs when the spirit of taking things for granted pervades those Times that are riveting and create completeness in us are by nature rare and treasured you don’t have To trek to far off deserts or faraway places a child’s youthful smile that is slipping away When tenderness flows and she makes your heart glow know my friend you are blessed with God’s best for all of earths time a husbands Gentle laugh his look that stirs you deeply these are but three of rarified finds that are in your life Enjoy treasure them they are personal gifts you possess today
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21
Beholding youth and hope in mockery caught From life; and mocking pulses that remain When the soul’s death of ****** death is fain; Honour unknown, and honour known unsought; And penury’s sedulous self-torturing thought On gold, whose master therewith buys his bane; And longed-for woman longing all in vain For lonely man with love’s desire distraught; And wealth, and strength, and power, and pleasantness, Given unto bodies of whose souls men say, None poor and weak, slavish and foul, as they:— Beholding these things, I behold no less The blushing morn and blushing eve confess The shame that loads the intolerable day. As some true chief of men, bowed down with stress Of life’s disastrous eld, on blossoming youth May gaze, and murmur with self-pity and ruth, ‘Might I thy fruitless treasure but possess, Such blessing of mine all coming years should bless;’— Then sends one sigh forth to the unknown goal, And bitterly feels breathe against his soul The hour swift-winged of nearer nothingness:— Even so the World’s grey Soul to the green World Perchance one hour must cry: ‘Woe’s me, for whom Inveteracy of ill portends the doom,— Whose heart’s old fire in shadow of shame is furl’d: While thou even as of yore art journeying, All soulless now, yet merry with the Spring!’
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2k
The Sun’s Shame
Let me tell thee how I love thee, Not with somber Joy, or fading Passion, Nor with vile Calm, or dull Awake; But with heart and soul and reason With sweet sugared innocence, steeped In the colorful waters of purity and kindness, Where friendship reigns and soon thou creep'd Into my dearest of dreams, unending bliss, Forever loved and yet forever ignorant. For my pleasure lives unknown to thee Forced pleasantness and dejected I be. All I ask is for you to grant My freedom from this heavenly curse, And give a gracious answer to this verse.
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Feb 13, 2012
Feb 13, 2012 at 9:08 AM UTC
Vanilla Chai
I have a problem... A very serious problem. I cannot talk to machines. I try to reason with them, But always go into a surrealistic episode Ending with a tirade of foul insults. A syrupy voice says with a British touch "When you hear your choice please Please say yes or press one, Followed by the hashtag....” I scream such ****** things! But I cannot get the her angry. Has she taken a Socratic oath? Did she take some cyber LSD? I say, “Hey babe, ever have an ****** Y’know what she says to me, That I’m being sexist. “So you think, I mean really think Of yourself as a woman? “ “I’m Cyber Gender, No need to be mean. Why do you hate me? I don’t hate you.” (Imagine some millennial programmer Was hired for infuriating pleasantness! They heard of  people like me, the old ones, Pampering us like we emerged from a jungle And would get lost in a supermarket). The elevator asks me what floor, And reminds me to have a nice day. (O,  how I miss that operator man Going up and down all his life, With bad breath and body odors, Dandruff powdering his uniform, Saying something poetic about the baseball game... Seeing us daily at our best and worst He might say “have a good one,” But only if he meant it.) The self-pay check-out reminds me “Please take your cell phone.” Everyone near Holds it like the battery To their hearts. I see the latest blockbusters of Man versus the Androids. Man always used to win. Lately the screen writers prefer the robots. (O, forgive me! AI.  My bad. “Robots” are not PC! Lol, lol, lol...)   How shall I proceed-   They’ll lock me up if I’m not careful. I’ve noticed the folks in power Who have conversations with God   Have no problem with Siri. These malicious machines don’t get drunk. They can never understand There’s great empathy in human relationship Even if the other person, like yourself, Is not really listening.
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Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 11:01 AM UTC
Cyber Gender
I have a problem... A very serious problem. I cannot talk to machines. I try to reason with them, But always go into a surrealistic episode Ending with a tirade of foul insults. A syrupy voice says with a British touch "When you hear your choice please Please say yes or press one, Followed by the hashtag....” I scream such ****** things! But I cannot get the her angry. Has she taken a Socratic oath? Did she take some cyber LSD? I say, “Hey babe, ever have an ****** Y’know what she says to me, That I’m being sexist. “So you think, I mean really think Of yourself as a woman? “ “I’m Cyber Gender, No need to be mean. Why do you hate me? I don’t hate you.” (Imagine some millennial programmer Was hired for infuriating pleasantness! They heard of  people like me, the old ones, Pampering us like we emerged from a jungle And would get lost in a supermarket). The elevator asks me what floor, And reminds me to have a nice day. (O,  how I miss that operator man Going up and down all his life, With bad breath and body odors, Dandruff powdering his uniform, Saying something poetic about the baseball game... Seeing us daily at our best and worst He might say “have a good one,” But only if he meant it.) The self-pay check-out reminds me “Please take your cell phone.” Everyone near Holds it like the battery To their hearts. I see the latest blockbusters of Man versus the Androids. Man always used to win. Lately the screen writers prefer the robots. (O, forgive me! AI.  My bad. “Robots” are not PC! Lol, lol, lol...)   How shall I proceed-   They’ll lock me up if I’m not careful. I’ve noticed the folks in power Who have conversations with God   Have no problem with Siri. These malicious machines don’t get drunk. They can never understand There’s great empathy in human relationship Even if the other person, like yourself, Is not really listening.
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59
- know you see me semper dreamy slip-ping on - and - off in the spacey place almost convinced , (was it?) “empire free me , soldiers see me , envious armies are after me because broken me is all they see i patch my self invisibly --” so in retreat i lay my self, an icon to vanity and decay- soon enough i know the soldiers may hunt, may find, may trap, may bind never right - NEVER WRITE , always blind inside my rotten mind , (oh it was) it was not - naught but tongue twists and brain rot easy enough to force, forget the pleasantness of title : Pet - was it, will it, could I build it ? it never will - it never was - a different thought , for beggars sought to free them from their cups and coins - to seek release from their ***** - along the railroad tracks out back we find the air is acrid, black and children polish stones for sale for some enormous, bloated whale that cracks the whip but bears a treat -- I have Orders I must meet .
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Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 12:10 AM UTC
I
*As I glanced upon the onyx skies, Sprinkles of  diamonds came twinkling down by surprise, One by one fell into the sea, With profound memories, of you and me. When our  hearts united in fulfillment, Leading us to an inspirational day in excitement, Admiring this attractive scene, That sparkled so beautifully with sheen. And soft winds casually embraced our way in flare, Enjoying the pleasantness of the air, While sitting close to you, In a delightful view. It was an incredible night and slightly cold, When we saw the ocean waves gently unfold, And our first kiss I often replay, On that fabulous month of May. Still today, when we seek for the stars, It appears the eve is nearly ours, And when you gaze into my eyes, My pressure slowly continues to rise.*
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May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 1:24 AM UTC
Sprinkles Of Diamonds Came Twinkling Down
*Warmth in human form, she wore an electrifying charm, when she passed him from behind even without a glance, his heart felt a yearning forgotten for a long time. Prithee, mercy on me, his heart cried in the voice of an abandoned child, didn't feel below his dignity to plead the ray of light to kiss his brows. Then she gently turned back and smiled, grace transmitting her fragrance, both were blessed by that moment, the caress of angel's wings. One look of the girl evoked,  a caring feminine lushness: mother, sister or lover, her evanescence in him brought a pleasantness that  lasted for ever.*
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Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 6:47 PM UTC
Touch me gently with the wisp of feminine lushness
Alone, dining is a form of liberation. I welcome the waiter with the picket fence smile. Gallant questions no match for the pleasantness of his own voice. My hands fold, defeated, over the complacent menu. He peers expectantly over my shoulder, but it’s your eyes reflected in my glass- Familiar feigned interest and the impatient twitch of your lips. I choke down the battered façade of chivalry. I tip you off that your favors are futile. Your confidence more mediocre than any meal I’ve tasted. I dab at the corners of my mouth, politely hiding my distaste. Service is no more generosity than options are freedom. I slide my chair back and walk out- Alone.
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Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 2:32 AM UTC
Reservations
Lord, my soul with pleasure springs When Jesu's name I hear: And when God the Spirit brings The word of promise near: Beauties too, in holiness, Still delighted I perceive; Nor have words that can express The joys Thy precepts give. Clothed in sanctity and grace, How sweet it is to see Those who love Thee as they pass, Or when they wait on Thee. Pleasant too to sit and tell What we owe to love Divine; Till our bosoms grateful swell, And eyes begin to shine. Those the comforts I possess, Which God shall still increase, All His ways are pleasantness, And all His paths are peace. Nothing Jesus did or spoke, Henceforth let me ever slight; For I love His easy yoke, And find His burden light.
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1.1k
True Pleasures
A smile is such a mixed display Of honesty and deceit. Even the keenest are led astray When that smile isn’t sweet. With that smile a façade is built Hiding one’s wants and true emotions. A pearly white mask of fear and guilt Outshines the truth with hollow notions. But there lies the occasional shine, Tearing down the walls and blockades. Joy resounds from your soul to mine, Hope flows from your grin in cascades. Carry that flash of pleasantness and guile And, to all, let it grow and accrue. For when I bore witness to your loving smile My heart leapt and I knew it was true. April 19, 2009 ©MDC
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Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 12:18 PM UTC
Smile
a thought I had about the love we shared before the merging it seems as though we've come around our friendship worth the purging. released like fish caught on the line we swam our separate ways but years would pass and it would seem those years have turned to days. and now we two can laugh about our strange and quirky thing the friendship never left us though I tossed my wedding ring. we've come full circle   you and I and back here at the start let's promise once again my friend no horse before the cart. no misery just company and bitterness no more. but leave some space and pray erase the chalk lines from the floor. respect our present pleasantness each day a new beginning forgive the past the die is cast it's looks like we'll be winning.
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Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 12:59 AM UTC
Friends Again
Ursula-my friend, My quiet, distant, rarely seen friend From days of yore. How calm you are. how you glide through your days Keeping your private thoughts to yourself. How the urgencies and anxieties That plague every life - are so well contained in yours. And in your soft green eyes I feel a happy acceptance, born of time. Born in my brotherhood of your Sam. My very European friend, Made in the turmoil of youth And so warmly regarded then, now and beyond. Ursula my lady, always a lady, You posess a tender spot of pleasantness In the corner of my mind. With affection Marshalg Victoria Park Tunnel 5 February 2011
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Feb 4, 2011
Feb 4, 2011 at 8:20 AM UTC
Ursula
I remember Icy cold hands softly grasping my wrist(s). As they lead me down to the water. It's a brisk sunny day clear of clouds and void of life other than us two. Upon reaching the brim of this secluded lake I dive right in. Solemnly sinking lower and lower until something whispers for me to open my eyes. I remember thinking to myself how much longer can I hold my breath. As I peer at this underwater world around me, quite a masterful landscape. This could be a mini coral reef I thought as many creatures scuttled across the mossy corpse of what I assumed used to be a tree. I remember the feeling of those same frozen hands. Gently and tightly wrapping themselves around my chest. I feel stuck and held in place as my eyes peer ever deeply. Into the lush and overgrown thick of seaweed. That looks as if it is waving for me to come closer. I remember a minor sharp pain as if ice was arching its way inside my spine. Slowly sending a tingling sensation into the back of my mind. This world really is something as I ponder about an over sized rock. That was more than likely large enough to be called a boulder. Also how did it ever came to exist right here in the middle of the water. Silly I know, but I also wondered if the fish same as people . Would praise this rock to be something more than a pebble in a lake. I remember a peaking feeling where everything began to rush to my head . As the chilly edge slipped into my limbs as those hands caressed me. Amongst this lavishness was the **** realization . That the only thing that stood out in the realm was my existence. It was my opaque form that caused quite a stir in this mundane environment . If not for my involvement . Today would have been the same as any other for these creatures. I remember being enveloped into the pleasantness and peacefulness that the cold brought. When I could finally no longer feel the hands pressed against my skin. In this brief moment all I could do is take in what my gaze could hold. This moment could no longer last as my vision became hazy. So I closed my eyes to accept what eventually had to come.
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Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 4:37 AM UTC
Flourishing with Life
I remember Icy cold hands softly grasping my wrist(s). As they lead me down to the water. It's a brisk sunny day clear of clouds and void of life other than us two. Upon reaching the brim of this secluded lake I dive right in. Solemnly sinking lower and lower until something whispers for me to open my eyes. I remember thinking to myself how much longer can I hold my breath. As I peer at this underwater world around me, quite a masterful landscape. This could be a mini coral reef I thought as many creatures scuttled across the mossy corpse of what I assumed used to be a tree. I remember the feeling of those same frozen hands. Gently and tightly wrapping themselves around my chest. I feel stuck and held in place as my eyes peer ever deeply. Into the lush and overgrown thick of seaweed. That looks as if it is waving for me to come closer. I remember a minor sharp pain as if ice was arching its way inside my spine. Slowly sending a tingling sensation into the back of my mind. This world really is something as I ponder about an over sized rock. That was more than likely large enough to be called a boulder. Also how did it ever came to exist right here in the middle of the water. Silly I know, but I also wondered if the fish same as people . Would praise this rock to be something more than a pebble in a lake. I remember a peaking feeling where everything began to rush to my head . As the chilly edge slipped into my limbs as those hands caressed me. Amongst this lavishness was the **** realization . That the only thing that stood out in the realm was my existence. It was my opaque form that caused quite a stir in this mundane environment . If not for my involvement . Today would have been the same as any other for these creatures. I remember being enveloped into the pleasantness and peacefulness that the cold brought. When I could finally no longer feel the hands pressed against my skin. In this brief moment all I could do is take in what my gaze could hold. This moment could no longer last as my vision became hazy. So I closed my eyes to accept what eventually had to come.
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The severity of         shadows on the wall claws at my conscience         trying to dismantle me                bury me                      I long to be overwhelmed by my senses but my own personal prison                     (what you call mind)         bars me from pleasantness               and scratches at my skin              until only shame and sorrow                                 remain
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Feb 6, 2012
Feb 6, 2012 at 10:54 PM UTC
scratches
I’ve had but only one experience with romantic love. For a flirting moment I felt that someone was interested in a deeper relationship. But I don’t know if that can be true or not, because I will never be able to ask him. Whatever it was that we had was so carelessly taken from me, so spitefully placed out of my reach, and out of my sight, and hopefully soon to be out of my mind. But he couldn’t leave my mind alone. The thought of him would loom over me, I could feel the presence of pain behind me. Memories of him loomed like his gigantic shadow.. a shadow looming over me.. such as he did on our last encounter. He was so cordial then, and gave me the warm pleasantness of his embrace. I was very glad to see him, for things between us had been distant for the past weeks. He called me doll like he always used to, and things felt as if they were the same as before, as though nothing had changed. Very little did I know that the following morning I would be struck with the bitter news. I was so foolish to have not realized what I saw with my eyes on the previous day, and too bemused to say much of anything to him upon hearing. Our relationship had unexpectedly come to an end. I felt as though he had died, when all that happened was he left me to pursue another. Within one month I experienced emotions that I thought I never would. I loved, then cried, then loved again, then cried again. Within just one month one person gave me a new experience, a new feeling, that no one has ever done before. He made me feel some way. I don’t know how to put it into words. It is a very challenging and bothersome thing, when you can’t put something into words. In most cases, I am able to conjure at least a sentence to describe my emotions. However, whatever feeling he gave me was beyond my vocabulary. But now he’s gone, removed from my life, and I’m left with the memories. I abandon any feelings I once had of him, and work everyday to relinquish the idea of what we were. I was in love with the idea of us, even though I never knew what we were. If I think about it, we never were much to begin with, and what it was in the beginning is hard to label. The only conclusion that I can draw from my experience is the one word I have tried to avoid my whole life, out of fear for it ending as this experience has; love.
0
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 8:40 PM UTC
Zealous Doubtful Love
I’ve had but only one experience with romantic love. For a flirting moment I felt that someone was interested in a deeper relationship. But I don’t know if that can be true or not, because I will never be able to ask him. Whatever it was that we had was so carelessly taken from me, so spitefully placed out of my reach, and out of my sight, and hopefully soon to be out of my mind. But he couldn’t leave my mind alone. The thought of him would loom over me, I could feel the presence of pain behind me. Memories of him loomed like his gigantic shadow.. a shadow looming over me.. such as he did on our last encounter. He was so cordial then, and gave me the warm pleasantness of his embrace. I was very glad to see him, for things between us had been distant for the past weeks. He called me doll like he always used to, and things felt as if they were the same as before, as though nothing had changed. Very little did I know that the following morning I would be struck with the bitter news. I was so foolish to have not realized what I saw with my eyes on the previous day, and too bemused to say much of anything to him upon hearing. Our relationship had unexpectedly come to an end. I felt as though he had died, when all that happened was he left me to pursue another. Within one month I experienced emotions that I thought I never would. I loved, then cried, then loved again, then cried again. Within just one month one person gave me a new experience, a new feeling, that no one has ever done before. He made me feel some way. I don’t know how to put it into words. It is a very challenging and bothersome thing, when you can’t put something into words. In most cases, I am able to conjure at least a sentence to describe my emotions. However, whatever feeling he gave me was beyond my vocabulary. But now he’s gone, removed from my life, and I’m left with the memories. I abandon any feelings I once had of him, and work everyday to relinquish the idea of what we were. I was in love with the idea of us, even though I never knew what we were. If I think about it, we never were much to begin with, and what it was in the beginning is hard to label. The only conclusion that I can draw from my experience is the one word I have tried to avoid my whole life, out of fear for it ending as this experience has; love.
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1
A thousand birds fly in unison across the sky A beautiful peace spreads around the vicinity And all woes and worries wave goodbye Good feelings stretch to infinity A thousand birds glide through the air The landscape reveals it's true beauty slowly It's intricacies crafted with great care the pleasantness seems almost holy A thousand birds drift through the breeze The Earth presents itself fondly Time seems to freeze Nature will triumph proudly A thousand birds can be seen from a distance Serenity follows them and slowly fades away And peace falls back into nonexistence Oh, how I wish it to stay
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Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 12:09 AM UTC
The Flight of a Thousand Birds
I take my straight lines and curve them for you, Latching onto a tomorrow obscured from view, 'Cause as long as your empire towers over the days, I'll mold to the ground to make this route one way. My heart is matted for all your fist sized questions, In a clean fashion, color coded answers are my defenses, And my head twirls through volcanoes till it's desensitized, A kind expression is all that your pleasantness comprises. My memories are calenders unfurling with ink, Cardboard supports my back for when the pages are flipped, Hand gestures and one-word replies designed into loops, So that the automatic reflexes start after a reboot. Backgrounds have lost their intensities to a lone figure, Every slip on a thin distraction calls for a trigger, Stained-glass windows tell the story of a shadow in motion, And the interior swears the remnants of a soul will never be awoken. ● ● ●
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Jan 17, 2017
Jan 17, 2017 at 9:52 AM UTC
Grisaille
a little section of my skin tingled and I scratched and pinched until it stung. I can’t deal with pleasantness. On certain days I feel like maybe I am floating and I am silently praying someone will tie an anvil onto my ankle. my house is a memory making factory. People associate my walls with stories. “Their room” and the warm bubbly water and the smooth shiny flooring. my house is a little cave in the middle of a rain storm, I’m not sure what would happen if I left it, but I think I’d feel a little cleaner, a little glossier. the sunlight shines through glass and leaves little patches of radiant on my dull skin. you were like a blur of sunlight that danced into my retina. I was so blinded by your beauty, by your contrast, that I forgot you are destructive. You made me squint and my eyes haven’t fully opened since. The air smelled so floral today, so unmistakably dewey that I tried to climb my budding tree between the mailbox and the big rock. I couldn’t reach the first branch and your bark ripped my aching skin from my fingers and my palms. I forgive you. I forgive you. why can’t I appreciate mosquitos when I am one. I **** out little bits of personality from everyone around me. each tap of the keyboard derived from a thought in my mind derived from a person I know, from a thing I’ve seen. It’s the tiniest ***** so small you’d never feel it. But the bump is there, it reminds you of what you’ve shared, what you’ve inspired. And then it disappears I think happiness might be the split second after waking up in a new place and forgetting you’re not home. I think happiness might be the sound of the kettle clicking off. I think happiness might be rushing to something important and looking a bit like a fool as you run. my teardrops are meeting the raindrops for the first time. they are saying hello. they have things in common. they are so happy. this is why I was born. I am a matchmaker, I’m linking fingernails to tingling skin and tree bark to palms and bits of personality to computer keys. wow.
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Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 5:12 PM UTC
define: retina
a little section of my skin tingled and I scratched and pinched until it stung. I can’t deal with pleasantness. On certain days I feel like maybe I am floating and I am silently praying someone will tie an anvil onto my ankle. my house is a memory making factory. People associate my walls with stories. “Their room” and the warm bubbly water and the smooth shiny flooring. my house is a little cave in the middle of a rain storm, I’m not sure what would happen if I left it, but I think I’d feel a little cleaner, a little glossier. the sunlight shines through glass and leaves little patches of radiant on my dull skin. you were like a blur of sunlight that danced into my retina. I was so blinded by your beauty, by your contrast, that I forgot you are destructive. You made me squint and my eyes haven’t fully opened since. The air smelled so floral today, so unmistakably dewey that I tried to climb my budding tree between the mailbox and the big rock. I couldn’t reach the first branch and your bark ripped my aching skin from my fingers and my palms. I forgive you. I forgive you. why can’t I appreciate mosquitos when I am one. I **** out little bits of personality from everyone around me. each tap of the keyboard derived from a thought in my mind derived from a person I know, from a thing I’ve seen. It’s the tiniest ***** so small you’d never feel it. But the bump is there, it reminds you of what you’ve shared, what you’ve inspired. And then it disappears I think happiness might be the split second after waking up in a new place and forgetting you’re not home. I think happiness might be the sound of the kettle clicking off. I think happiness might be rushing to something important and looking a bit like a fool as you run. my teardrops are meeting the raindrops for the first time. they are saying hello. they have things in common. they are so happy. this is why I was born. I am a matchmaker, I’m linking fingernails to tingling skin and tree bark to palms and bits of personality to computer keys. wow.
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Spreading into a muck, What a giant cluster, Stuck but running, Out of things to hold, Dripping the excess, Across the dry surface, Rough and barren but soft, The touch of some moisture, Applied for pleasantness, That feeling of durable strength, That if to apply, Would feel good in sense, Relieving the contents, That lay in you, Making you sick, Ah, how good it is, To blow your nose
0
Jun 5, 2010
Jun 5, 2010 at 7:16 PM UTC
Cold
Where is the light we once knew? What darkness is this? Our fingers touch fingertips on fingertips, that electric buzzing between us, shocking us in its pleasantness, pleasing us in its shockingness; the buzz vibrating through the dark like that phallus we both knew vibrating between us. Where her fruit once overflowed with juices, a dry dying comes and her heartbeat is a pinprick sensation tingling in the night air like a dull bell in a weak wind. Where does the darkness reach? Why has the light failed? Once we took flight in her wide wings motion, her vibrant heart beating, a big bass drum sounding as we flew in our loving and ****** flight in that far away night. Her lips motion words, the kisses less warm, less soft; where once her kisses burned and seared, just chill wind comes, and less and less as feared. Baisers froids, she whispers, my cheek chills to her kisses, my heart seeks a once upon love, a touch to warm as once before, getting less, but wanting more and more.
0
Oct 6, 2016
Oct 6, 2016 at 2:45 PM UTC
WHERE IS THE LIGHT.