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"presentiments" poems
If any vision should reveal Thy likeness, I might count it vain As but the canker of the brain; Yea, tho' it spake and made appeal To chances where our lots were cast Together in the days behind, I might but say, I hear a wind Of memory murmuring the past. Yea, tho' it spake and bared to view A fact within the coming year; And tho' the months, revolving near, Should prove the phantom-warning true, They might not seem thy prophecies, But spiritual presentiments, And such refraction of events As often rises ere they rise.
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In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: Part 092
I guess you'll be angry, after reading what I wrote So I suggest you cool down, and my feelings here I quote: "I always thought this was a show, A silly game teens play Hormones flowing with the flow, A game destined to decay. Never heard romantic songs because I could not relate to them. Thought all this was nonsense, 'cause I am too young to understand. I know you despise all this, I once despised it too. But when I met you I realized, there is a different view. Some things are better said than been withheld. Because they make your eyes wetter and come back when you are eld. Although I've told you this before and I believe I'm self aware, I thought I would once again like to clear the air. That day, I wanted to forget you, 'cause I know how it ends. Leaving two beings dismal, never risking themselves again. You told me it is momentary, that it will go away. But it’s just the contrary, And I think about you everyday. Once again, I may sound like a flake, but I want you to know. Your parents must be very proud, your heart is as pure as snow. I know you don't feel the same way though I'm your best friend, I just wanted you to be aware That this fool is in love with you, now comprehend. Alas! I'm running out of words again, and I have nothing else left to write. And at the same time, have a heap of feelings to recite. This is the best I can do, The poem is my gift to you. But if you tell me your honest presentiments I'd still be friends and never talk about this again."
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Apr 11, 2021
Apr 11, 2021 at 11:55 AM UTC
For You
I guess you'll be angry, after reading what I wrote So I suggest you cool down, and my feelings here I quote: "I always thought this was a show, A silly game teens play Hormones flowing with the flow, A game destined to decay. Never heard romantic songs because I could not relate to them. Thought all this was nonsense, 'cause I am too young to understand. I know you despise all this, I once despised it too. But when I met you I realized, there is a different view. Some things are better said than been withheld. Because they make your eyes wetter and come back when you are eld. Although I've told you this before and I believe I'm self aware, I thought I would once again like to clear the air. That day, I wanted to forget you, 'cause I know how it ends. Leaving two beings dismal, never risking themselves again. You told me it is momentary, that it will go away. But it’s just the contrary, And I think about you everyday. Once again, I may sound like a flake, but I want you to know. Your parents must be very proud, your heart is as pure as snow. I know you don't feel the same way though I'm your best friend, I just wanted you to be aware That this fool is in love with you, now comprehend. Alas! I'm running out of words again, and I have nothing else left to write. And at the same time, have a heap of feelings to recite. This is the best I can do, The poem is my gift to you. But if you tell me your honest presentiments I'd still be friends and never talk about this again."
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It was a quick loud sound The cabin over-heated ***** no longer thin Elegant words will not do here Long buildings hang outside It is a Logging camp with a prisoner poet Pacing the creaking floor all night I race to the back door Fall into the thicket with one foot caught in mud Rain came with a rip and roar My brown fingers freed myself Absolute power is a vortex of insanity Reason has lost its exaltation The Masters of poetry are laughing Presentiments long shadow was ignored The sun will go down My poet will be lost in the thicket This, a vision of my world..
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Feb 7, 2011
Feb 7, 2011 at 11:13 AM UTC
Poet in a Thicket
I awoke with a need, with presentiments from bad dreams; detached from feeling, I hear it sing: a grandfather’s clock, untimely, boxes and a piano with no tuning. a walk through high hills and chalk walls, towards a fervid green memory - no ash to see and no burnt bodies. now, with this perturbed heartbeat, the     ghosts and     goners      will   meet
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Aug 17, 2021
Aug 17, 2021 at 6:37 PM UTC
a grave full of feelings
. . Embowered within a leafy glade where virtues vapours float in air inhaled in spectres fervency released by Prospero’s wand. Flexile dreams unleavened yet will rise to inspiration’s zest presentiments of what will be maintain a station deep within. As ships which rail upon the sea and thoughts which float on dimpled plains when furnished by a pen these dreams will sit in frames of antique gold.
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Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 3:02 AM UTC
IN FRAMES OF ANTIQUE GOLD
the minute it hit me felt like the devil was kissing me trying to drown me lovingly caressing my face as he sent me to a darker place
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Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 4:50 PM UTC
past presentiments