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"profoundness" poems
Back & forth the waves roll in Challenging the beach The foaming surf offers up a dream That so far is out of reach I wish I could live among the waves Like the seal that I've just seen Without a care for what comes next Or for what has ever been To swim among gigantic whales Majestic in their song Content with life - to carry on Knowing they belong To fly up high above the swell Like the seagulls do Playing in the clouds of spray They all know the truth Happiness is a gift That we can not take for granted In the profoundness of the ocean Seeds of hope will now be planted Back & forth the waves roll in Their cycle never ends My life continues to evolve The sea will help me mend (C) Pixievic 2016
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Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 12:34 PM UTC
Sanctuary
Dear Brianna Evelyn Heins, Stop Spanx sitting me, I’m old enough to take shape of my own. Sincerely, You’re Hips P.S. Stop convincing the lips to call me flab-u-lous! I have my own name. Stop knocking the knuckles to bone To hear that hollow hound sound, now don’t use me in your measurement references, I want to live a day Without spinning round the bouncy bands of your operation game I’ve seen tweezers fall out of your eyes, to plummet under my moon shone complexion Please keep in mind the brain is a liar. And well, I have no twins; your pessimistic ways don’t acknowledge my individuality The color of shame is not moving, while your red majestic beast hair torturously tickles my clear space of face. Brianna, The brain is a liar! I know you are told you’re observant; The deception is grand Stop pretending you know me Let me dance dizzy with the calves Like coming out of the closet I’m showing you I’ll never be straight but brains whisper “weep, weep, weepweepweep” at the sight of the salt soaked, taffy stretched skin the brain sends me signals, but I beg for the heart to seep in Please listen up rarely do I talk, for you think words are merely a sound but the profoundness hasn’t shaken I know you must feel my urges like I’m on tonight and my hips don’t lie beauty may lay in the fragile way I sway said I’m below But to hell with you because this bridge can be crossed but embers fly in you eyes and the brain is a liar a family member I wholeheartedly despise.
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Jun 21, 2012
Jun 21, 2012 at 10:32 PM UTC
Letter from my hips (Based off form by Brian Ellis)
Dear Brianna Evelyn Heins, Stop Spanx sitting me, I’m old enough to take shape of my own. Sincerely, You’re Hips P.S. Stop convincing the lips to call me flab-u-lous! I have my own name. Stop knocking the knuckles to bone To hear that hollow hound sound, now don’t use me in your measurement references, I want to live a day Without spinning round the bouncy bands of your operation game I’ve seen tweezers fall out of your eyes, to plummet under my moon shone complexion Please keep in mind the brain is a liar. And well, I have no twins; your pessimistic ways don’t acknowledge my individuality The color of shame is not moving, while your red majestic beast hair torturously tickles my clear space of face. Brianna, The brain is a liar! I know you are told you’re observant; The deception is grand Stop pretending you know me Let me dance dizzy with the calves Like coming out of the closet I’m showing you I’ll never be straight but brains whisper “weep, weep, weepweepweep” at the sight of the salt soaked, taffy stretched skin the brain sends me signals, but I beg for the heart to seep in Please listen up rarely do I talk, for you think words are merely a sound but the profoundness hasn’t shaken I know you must feel my urges like I’m on tonight and my hips don’t lie beauty may lay in the fragile way I sway said I’m below But to hell with you because this bridge can be crossed but embers fly in you eyes and the brain is a liar a family member I wholeheartedly despise.
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40
Images flashing Flashing With Recognizing Eyes And Registering Brain Played over Over Through Passageways By way Of Electromagnetic Impulse And Firing Neurons Within Within those Is a Deeper understanding As Cerebral Cortex Takes hold And forms Within Profoundness Insidiousness Forever
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Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 5:02 PM UTC
Viewing
Go, Soul, the body’s guest, Upon a thankless errand; Fear not to touch the best; The truth shall be thy warrant: Go, since I needs must die, And give the world the lie. Say to the court, it glows And shines like rotten wood; Say to the church, it shows What’s good, and doth no good: If church and court reply, Then give them both the lie. Tell potentates, they live Acting by others’ action; Not loved unless they give, Not strong but by a faction. If potentates reply, Give potentates the lie. Tell men of high condition, That manage the estate, Their purpose is ambition, Their practice only hate: And if they once reply, Then give them all the lie. Tell them that brave it most, They beg for more by spending, Who, in their greatest cost, Seek nothing but commending. And if they make reply, Then give them all the lie. Tell zeal it wants devotion; Tell love it is but lust; Tell time it is but motion; Tell flesh it is but dust: And wish them not reply, For thou must give the lie. Tell age it daily wasteth; Tell honour how it alters; Tell beauty how she blasteth; Tell favour how it falters: And as they shall reply, Give every one the lie. Tell wit how much it wrangles In tickle points of niceness; Tell wisdom she entangles Herself in overwiseness: And when they do reply, Straight give them both the lie. Tell physic of her boldness; Tell skill it is pretension; Tell charity of coldness; Tell law it is contention: And as they do reply, So give them still the lie. Tell fortune of her blindness; Tell nature of decay; Tell friendship of unkindness; Tell justice of delay: And if they will reply, Then give them all the lie. Tell arts they have no soundness, But vary by esteeming; Tell schools they want profoundness, And stand too much on seeming: If arts and schools reply, Give arts and schools the lie. Tell faith it’s fled the city; Tell how the country erreth; Tell manhood shakes off pity And virtue least preferreth: And if they do reply, Spare not to give the lie. So when thou hast, as I Commanded thee, done blabbing— Although to give the lie Deserves no less than stabbing— Stab at thee he that will, No stab the soul can ****
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3.5k
The Lie
Go, Soul, the body’s guest, Upon a thankless errand; Fear not to touch the best; The truth shall be thy warrant: Go, since I needs must die, And give the world the lie. Say to the court, it glows And shines like rotten wood; Say to the church, it shows What’s good, and doth no good: If church and court reply, Then give them both the lie. Tell potentates, they live Acting by others’ action; Not loved unless they give, Not strong but by a faction. If potentates reply, Give potentates the lie. Tell men of high condition, That manage the estate, Their purpose is ambition, Their practice only hate: And if they once reply, Then give them all the lie. Tell them that brave it most, They beg for more by spending, Who, in their greatest cost, Seek nothing but commending. And if they make reply, Then give them all the lie. Tell zeal it wants devotion; Tell love it is but lust; Tell time it is but motion; Tell flesh it is but dust: And wish them not reply, For thou must give the lie. Tell age it daily wasteth; Tell honour how it alters; Tell beauty how she blasteth; Tell favour how it falters: And as they shall reply, Give every one the lie. Tell wit how much it wrangles In tickle points of niceness; Tell wisdom she entangles Herself in overwiseness: And when they do reply, Straight give them both the lie. Tell physic of her boldness; Tell skill it is pretension; Tell charity of coldness; Tell law it is contention: And as they do reply, So give them still the lie. Tell fortune of her blindness; Tell nature of decay; Tell friendship of unkindness; Tell justice of delay: And if they will reply, Then give them all the lie. Tell arts they have no soundness, But vary by esteeming; Tell schools they want profoundness, And stand too much on seeming: If arts and schools reply, Give arts and schools the lie. Tell faith it’s fled the city; Tell how the country erreth; Tell manhood shakes off pity And virtue least preferreth: And if they do reply, Spare not to give the lie. So when thou hast, as I Commanded thee, done blabbing— Although to give the lie Deserves no less than stabbing— Stab at thee he that will, No stab the soul can ****
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78
Matters of love, you’ve reaped into me Dynamics of knowledge, richness and profoundness Bringing age to my heart Knowing love and knowing brutal pain More real, more powerful, more beautiful Gifted consciousness filling missing part of potential Crumbling down our incompleteness Loving you more than consciousness of my thoughts will allow More than the passion of my intensity To be a model of human brilliance Manifests within the existence of my being I am a furnace You are the only flame Sparking this wild fire I am a candle, inanimate, You are the flicker that gives it life, light, soul I'm am intrinsic potential waiting to be actualized You are the catalyst of life breathing momentum into me Through your existence A flower, a beacon, weapon to my oppression and pain Appropriation of your love, impossibility in my life Immaculate potion to my sorrow Like a wild flower Withstanding thunder, hurricanes, and rain An atom from another dimension Your pulse travels through my heart and my soul As dangerous as ore You are the purest form Deep underneath farther than I can explore You are the most beautiful creation You are the end to my means Unconceivable new reality to my rebellion The revolution I await In the deepest part of my existence Knowing it might never be Key to my chains Chant to my muted voice You are the embodiment and the soul of my freedom Always escaping from me
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Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 11:14 AM UTC
A Heart’s Rebellion (Impossibility of Your Love)
Aspirations ,prayers,wishes and more, When it is right ,it's definitely right! The universe conspires to create miracles and one such miracle is you ! The smell of a familiar me ,connected with cords ,cut but uncut long after they are only to hold you in my arms now connected through heartbeats and love growing strong. The tiny , soft fingers bound around tightly , The twinkle seen through half closed eyes. Tender skin as soft as snow , whats there to ask for more ? A bundle of joy and happiness came fore ! So they say when the time is right , it of course is ! In my hearts core I knew long before, God choose to give me the best . Thee! extraordinary from the rest . A tessellation of wishes came to surface in a matter of time and test . Your addition to my life brought in a sense of peace ,pride and profoundness. Rearing to take on the world gearing to accept responsibility. Surviving every obstacle , a Lioness closely guards and protects her cub , to see him grow into thee "King of the Jungle " ©Mrunalini.D.Nimbalkar
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Feb 11, 2019
Feb 11, 2019 at 8:13 AM UTC
KING OF THE JUNGLE
An empty pub is the worst place to be, In a city, Where even gods stay a bit longer every year, Perhaps persuaded by the halcyon laughter of that half dressed street urchin, Who has learnt to celebrate her comical existence, In the pregnant underbelly of a false saint, Who refuses to give birth to anything but naked poverty. Small wonder the gods have never chosen to intervene in the city of joy, After all its the fault of these urchins who refuse to abandon their filthy smiles, And have the audacity to peak through the walls that we annually paint, With the victorious colours of human values. But why do they peek, Isn't their world filled with the unmatched profoundness of black and white photography? Isn't their world the home to poetic muses and romantic poverty ? Indeed, why do they peek ? Before the label on the bottle in front of me, Makes you judge the potency of what I utter, Let me tell you why. For them our world is a constant theatrical which has run different shows annually, Yet the only complaint they have perhaps is that the genre of the shows, Have somehow never changed. Its always been the darkest of satires, Like the running satire in which half our society, Sitting safe within the beautiful walls , We built around our indomitable prosperity and culture , Indulges, In the hysterical condemnation of a man, Who wants to build a beautiful wall on a different continent . To protect the same You know, I don't speak urchin-tongue, But I have always had the gift to read feelings I shouldn’t, And something tells me the urchins have titled this theatrical, “Moral ************ But that’s not all, An empty pub is the worst place to be in a city which refuses to let you give up hope, And gently reminds you with every drink That even when the rest of the world is out there dancing, To the drum beats of happy endings and ephemeral farewells, There’s one place that will never close its doors on you. The only thing is. The place isn’t the home you never ended up building with her, It’s just an empty pub. And that is why an empty pub is the worst place to be.
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Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 3:13 AM UTC
Before The Bartender's Last Call
An empty pub is the worst place to be, In a city, Where even gods stay a bit longer every year, Perhaps persuaded by the halcyon laughter of that half dressed street urchin, Who has learnt to celebrate her comical existence, In the pregnant underbelly of a false saint, Who refuses to give birth to anything but naked poverty. Small wonder the gods have never chosen to intervene in the city of joy, After all its the fault of these urchins who refuse to abandon their filthy smiles, And have the audacity to peak through the walls that we annually paint, With the victorious colours of human values. But why do they peek, Isn't their world filled with the unmatched profoundness of black and white photography? Isn't their world the home to poetic muses and romantic poverty ? Indeed, why do they peek ? Before the label on the bottle in front of me, Makes you judge the potency of what I utter, Let me tell you why. For them our world is a constant theatrical which has run different shows annually, Yet the only complaint they have perhaps is that the genre of the shows, Have somehow never changed. Its always been the darkest of satires, Like the running satire in which half our society, Sitting safe within the beautiful walls , We built around our indomitable prosperity and culture , Indulges, In the hysterical condemnation of a man, Who wants to build a beautiful wall on a different continent . To protect the same You know, I don't speak urchin-tongue, But I have always had the gift to read feelings I shouldn’t, And something tells me the urchins have titled this theatrical, “Moral ************ But that’s not all, An empty pub is the worst place to be in a city which refuses to let you give up hope, And gently reminds you with every drink That even when the rest of the world is out there dancing, To the drum beats of happy endings and ephemeral farewells, There’s one place that will never close its doors on you. The only thing is. The place isn’t the home you never ended up building with her, It’s just an empty pub. And that is why an empty pub is the worst place to be.
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42
In a land where the sun will shine Softly on our bare skins, The cool, calm water will flow over Our feet dipped in- Sparkling, soothing, tickling, While we’ll both lazily lie, Arms spread out, time stretched out, Truths and worries left behind, Where the only possible distraction From each other’s sight could be That of a butterfly fluttering by, We'll track, over lilacs and yellows, its flight, Then suddenly we’ll catch each other’s eyes, And once again forget the presence of all life, Just soaking in the profoundness, Of being side by side. And my fingers, freed from All shackles of wrong and right, Will slowly move over soft, wet grass, Eliminating whatever distance before us lies, I’ll touch for a moment, your fingertips, And I’ll test you, wait for your reaction, I’ll see it on your smiling lips, And at last with your heavenly fingers, Mine will entwine, To finally fill that love-shaped void in our hearts, For the union of our souls to never grow apart. Wait for me in that land, my dear, Wait for me; I’ll meet you there.
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Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 3:47 PM UTC
I'll Meet You There
Just a little, just a small, just a bit Exuding burst of energy Embodiment of brilliance Manifested in human flesh Wondering while we walk Trembling trying to talk Mankind mostly marred momentum Humanity how humiliating, hiding Forefathers frowning, from our fabricated forget Refusing redemption, requiring rancor and retribution Always armed, allured, awaiting angry accusations Derailed doves, these daggers drag down Losing level landings, lacerating learning's lifting Just a little, just a small, just a bit Exuding burst of energy Embodiment of brilliance Manifested in human flesh I implore indignation, it's incarceration of our intrinsic immensity At the core of our conception, captivating creation captured Anyone, everyone, afraid of the amazement accrued under our armor Profoundness, endless as the universe, favoring our existence Just a little, just a small, just a bit Exuding burst of energy Embodiment of brilliance Manifested in human flesh
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Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 9:44 PM UTC
Embodiment of Brilliance
Profoundness, The spark of inspiration which drives forth the will And the spirit of all those grateful enough to be touched It is the symbol of great pulchritude in lasting words It is the effigy of overwhelming power’s grasp over one’s mind A single pause can have more meaning than any sound could attempt to demonstrate And through silence, an understanding is made It is complexity within simplicity; it is a message where there is none Let it be treasured wherever it may be found And last eternally as a memory so… profound.
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May 20, 2010
May 20, 2010 at 9:58 AM UTC
Profound
Being human can be incredibly painful But to be human...to truly feel like a realized human being is to feel powerful...is to feel an out-of-body experience because we realize that we are beautiful, brilliant... and deserve to feel what it means to TO BE FULLY HUMAN and nothing less. That our dreams, our aspirations, and our capabilities cannot be restricted by artificially constructed restrictions. And because of that we cannot allow under any circumstance for the humanity of anyone to be negated. That every inhale we take without helping legitimize the humanity of one more, Is further securing the chaos which threatens our own. That to love another human being, no matter how strange or familiar, difficult or easy Is to really understand the profoundness of our own humanity... Is to love ourselves. And because of that we cannot fathom a world Where anyone is negated the ability to love. Whereby the consciousness of our fullest potential Understands no artificial restrictions Knows no terror, war,or attack that can silence the eternal soul of its truth And can only conceive of a world where everyone's humanity is legitimized
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Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 1:13 AM UTC
To Be Fully Human (Nothing Less)
Shattered night, Scattered light Caught in the deep abyss So infinite and profound The tenderness of your lips My heart it rips And slips Through my veins it goes Straight to my brain it flows Consuming my delicate soul It starts to take its toll It's high the fee, but I won't cease Here it is, so hard to please My helpless desire to appease The endless love I have for thee Forever you will be the only worth that's in me Once again we surface From the profoundness of the abyss & implore how beautifully the sun shines Sending its immense lighting Upon those who once were dead But are now arising!                       ♠️
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Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 11:08 AM UTC
Abyss
My lover's scent is nothing like the sun; for the smell I long to taste is no longer carried through the air when his shadow flashes. It is left inside the man whom I adore; whose laugh is gentle and smirk is no boredom. His cheeks are as red as flowers can be; his lips thin: a sensuousness men around me bother not to have! His growing legs are bare, full of whiteness as a source of light in the menacing dark of heavenly blackness. His lines are coloured with warmth, succession, profoundness, awe, and aspiration; his breaths charmed with haste; lust; and mature melodies from the song I played. His arms sturdy and robust and adorned even when he is pained; pained by the faint shades of love who dies in winter and wakes every summer. But his eyes are heartbreakingly enticing; such a lure on a fragile Sunday afternoon; when the first glimpse of him was taken! I will be yearning, in my every following heartbeat, for meeting him again.. Even in a world where everyone perished, my lusted passion for him would never cease to exist..
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May 28, 2012
May 28, 2012 at 9:00 AM UTC
NOTHING (Remake of Shakespeare's Sonnet No. 130)
an embrace without a lost paradise your cabaret words like a trance I walk through the corrosive noise I find my way to your footsteps on narrow streets you hardly look back at your traces when they erase your touch from the map of time so painful the hands left alone you are touched by a melancholy impossible for some mornings I am touched by reverie, entropy and memory next desire on display a stain or a broken destiny the weight of our shadows unknown a foreign tissue is carrying the profoundness of thoughts bear with me this heart tarred with pain a moon song be the night when trees remember how deep their dreams run
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Nov 2, 2023
Nov 2, 2023 at 6:21 PM UTC
dream
"She's delicate, more than you perceive; But her dynamism- so strong, Though tender she might appear to be, But for her man, she's his rock! So warm is the soul she embodies, That can light up a million lives. Her thoughts are difficult to read, A blend of feelings thrives! She may quietly watch the happenings, and might talk to her own self all day. She may speak a hundred words to you, But the ocean that flows within her, there it stays. You'll love her for her warmth, But the depth of affection- you have no clue; Her profoundness reaches infinities. She's a woman you'll never know, you never knew!" -Elina Dawoodani
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Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 9:12 AM UTC
A woman you'll never know!
Kozarev, thou remindeth me of the other one: thy innocence is just as such authenticity that never decays! Thy simplicity, yes-and oft'times omens of languidity, art indeed genuine! O, thy purity which bears no sin! Twists of daring passion that art so listed in thy eyes-brief and witty, yet calming but never at rest. My another, that disheartening past love back then, in the course of many a year ago-is now but a tiny flickering shadow of battered raindrops that I canst only sing of. Like a handful of worn-out ashes, his fatigue is of no more profoundness to me, and shalt it never findeth any further way to my heart. How he turned me-and my confident passion, down! Abrupt kisses as we had, and ah!-light strokes on my hair-all wert terrific, yes, t'ey wert, in th' first place-but suddenly over! But thou, indolent as thou art-docile and hysterical in some lyrical ways-thy soul is but the forest of an unknown world; what a jolly secret cave! Bathed in crisp mystery, engulfed in shallow pathos; a lump of love, young torpor-yet haunting and irredeemable felicity. Untouched as thou art, like a wordless, newborn infant-whose feet art contently groping in soulless darkness-until thou findeth the smiling light itself! O, be it me-be it me, my dear! Thou art but to me a glimpse of wrathless haze; rolling and dancing about as thou always art-in'a sheepish, childish maze.
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Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 5:30 AM UTC
Thy Innocence
I have finally found Something without comparison The most beautiful eyes These eyes, have ever seen Of such a green As to make the rainforests jealous And the most luscious of trees Desire their beauty And profoundness of expression Gazing at the very thing that desires them And imbuing everywhere they go With that mystical green light
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Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 1:49 AM UTC
A green once had
The significance of my being and meaning and impact. When my time is over and mother nature calls me back. Decomposing and crumbling  bones of my dirt nap. The world turns and time in memorial won't give a crap.       Nature's rules decide.        All things abide. When measuring in eons and we're a mere blip on the screen. The profoundness of our meaninglessness could be overpowering. Unknowable infinity of stars and what they have seen. **** sapiens defining sum isn't worth mentioning.       In the darkness, endless, maw    All, follow natures law From the Complexities of vast galaxies beyond mortal man's understanding. To the smallest intricacies  of nanoparticles, molecules, and atoms. With the eternity of continuous space which is still hard to fathom. Connected composites of muddy space dust created modern man at random.
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Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 7:29 PM UTC
Time, Space, Continuing
They told me. Told me this is right. I never thought to disagree. Until we began falling from this lofty height. I don't know how we got here. Or where to go. I can't tell you why my pulse is racing. While my breathings slow. I think this has been some sort of accident. The kind you drive by really slow. Never has the air between us been less passionate. You smile, but all I see is the anger just below. I've watched this love wax. I don't think I can stand it to wane. I try to hold harder the more this retracts. Stuck in this whirring profoundness I can't explain. I want to stop, but again and again it's all deja vu. We are surrounded by moutains and molehills. Perpetually waiting for the other to come through. Held to some truth that constantly self fufills. Yet, I just can't bring myself to leave us behind. I cling, I fight, I pray, I hope, I wail. because love is patient, love is kind... They told me love will never fail.
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Apr 29, 2012
Apr 29, 2012 at 3:37 AM UTC
Told Me
your egregious efforts to impress me in your articulate profoundness in order to assert dominance over me not only aggravates and amuses me but disappoints me. because i thought you were better than that
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Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 4:23 AM UTC
Pretentious
we all have words our hearts they speak they whisper and scream quiet themselves at times my heart needs complexity it needs simplicity singing and whistling this heart gasps for air tasting profoundness my heart desires
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Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 5:59 PM UTC
complexity
As I sit while watching the sky, my imagination glorifies my desire to fly. I lean down on this ancient tree, watching the birds as they fly worry-free. I watch a brook as it slowly flows, its cold water completed by a crystal glow. I feel its coldness seep through my skin, a coldness purer than the arctic wind. I see the Sun slowly slipping away going back to its everlasting grave. I'll see it tomorrow high up in the sky, revived again as it watches the birds fly. I see the grass as it hides the Earth, covering it up as it gives birth, to the countless miracles we call life, then cutting them away like a merciless knife. I feel the wind flowing through my bones, giving me company as I sit alone. It has flowed endlessly as the eons go by, accompanying the birds as they soar across the sky. I see the clouds covering the sky. I see them hiding the unreachable heights. I see them pour rain and fire, their profoundness something we're bound to admire. I see fields of grass and buildings of glass. I see fire and rain, pouring down with nothing to gain. I see animals living their life. I see them fight to live another night. I see myself living worry-free, lying down on this ancient tree. I see myself watching the crystal skies, reliving again days and nights of life.
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Nov 29, 2016
Nov 29, 2016 at 9:25 AM UTC
Days and Nights of Life
Leap , Leap , Leap - Into the Wealth of Knowledge , Plunge into its Profoundness ! Swim , Swim , Swim - Into the Well of Knowledge , Dive into its Coreness ! Peep , Peep , Peep - Into the Wisdom of Knowledge , Happily Quench the Thirst  ! Drink from the Fountains of Knowledge , As Savoir Faire gives the ****** ! Since Knowledge see's through it all , Be it Summer , Winter , Spring or Fall ! © Mrunalini .D. Nimbalkar
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Mar 4, 2019
Mar 4, 2019 at 9:29 AM UTC
THIRST OF KNOWLEDGE
Pureness: It is Where you’ll see eyes clear as glass, Reflecting a vibrant sunset. It’s at the heart of a child, Who knows no evilness. At the pen of a poet in paper, When words fluid fearlessly. It is every time you see her smile, Or the sound of his voice. When honesty is being at its finest, And loyalty never forgotten. As the words ‘I love you’ Are said at the hearts weakest point. It’s pureness what makes us Feel the profoundness of life.
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Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 11:36 PM UTC
Pureness