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"queendom" poems
keep scrolling through iTunes, can’t seem to find anything to download, even though I can download, any song that I want to, keep scrolling through my timeline, Facebook lines & Instagram posts, but can’t seem to find anything of interest, which doesn’t make sense since I love everyone, got everything we want, but nothing that we need, traded in our dreams, for some fantasies on a screen, here forget you used to be free, have a seat & take this TV, it’s amazing how we make miracles, seem so easy, it’s like, these machines gave us everything we ever wanted, without, giving us anything that we ever needed, & it’s strange because I’ve won every battle, but still I feel defeated, it’s like I’m sitting around, alone with all these toys around me, feeling like a Prince without a Kingdom, or a King without a throne, or a Princess without a wishlist in her Queendom, with a magnificent house that’s missing a home, are you missing your home, that home you never had, are you missing that feeling, that feeling that you can’t quite grab, and that’s, exactly why you keep scrolling through iTunes, & that’s exactly why I keep scrolling thought iTunes, we’re both missing the same thing & searching in vain, it’s eerily ironic how we can feel so alone in the same room, & I feel your pain because I feel my pain two, pardon me, maybe I’m confused, maybe we, wanted to get attention instead of getting used, & there’s so much more I want to mention, but then again I guess what’s the use, why start something that’s only definite is an ending, but I’m your friend so if you want to begin it’s up to you, I’m willing to relax, I’ll answer all your questions, let’s trade facts, truth or dare until we express all our intentions, in the pursuit of passions, listening to intuitions, remembering what it was to be human, before we gave in & gave them our emotions, I swear something doesn’t feel right, like most of these humans are just Programs, who look like they are moving with intention, but are really just going through the motions, keep scrolling through iTunes, can’t seem to find anything to download, even though I can download, any song that I want to… ∆ LaLux ∆ Los Angeles, CA. October 8th, 2018
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Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 10:11 PM UTC
Timelines
keep scrolling through iTunes, can’t seem to find anything to download, even though I can download, any song that I want to, keep scrolling through my timeline, Facebook lines & Instagram posts, but can’t seem to find anything of interest, which doesn’t make sense since I love everyone, got everything we want, but nothing that we need, traded in our dreams, for some fantasies on a screen, here forget you used to be free, have a seat & take this TV, it’s amazing how we make miracles, seem so easy, it’s like, these machines gave us everything we ever wanted, without, giving us anything that we ever needed, & it’s strange because I’ve won every battle, but still I feel defeated, it’s like I’m sitting around, alone with all these toys around me, feeling like a Prince without a Kingdom, or a King without a throne, or a Princess without a wishlist in her Queendom, with a magnificent house that’s missing a home, are you missing your home, that home you never had, are you missing that feeling, that feeling that you can’t quite grab, and that’s, exactly why you keep scrolling through iTunes, & that’s exactly why I keep scrolling thought iTunes, we’re both missing the same thing & searching in vain, it’s eerily ironic how we can feel so alone in the same room, & I feel your pain because I feel my pain two, pardon me, maybe I’m confused, maybe we, wanted to get attention instead of getting used, & there’s so much more I want to mention, but then again I guess what’s the use, why start something that’s only definite is an ending, but I’m your friend so if you want to begin it’s up to you, I’m willing to relax, I’ll answer all your questions, let’s trade facts, truth or dare until we express all our intentions, in the pursuit of passions, listening to intuitions, remembering what it was to be human, before we gave in & gave them our emotions, I swear something doesn’t feel right, like most of these humans are just Programs, who look like they are moving with intention, but are really just going through the motions, keep scrolling through iTunes, can’t seem to find anything to download, even though I can download, any song that I want to… ∆ LaLux ∆ Los Angeles, CA. October 8th, 2018
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65
Air is perfume-light Elbows sank in my pillow I wake from slumber Chamber door opens Handmaiden brings good tidings from outer Kingdoms Holds a silver tray With scones, jam and honey for some chamomile tea Steaming hot china which I blow and gently sip I hum in delight Come, some scrambled eggs With toast and ice-cold fresh fruits Lemon slice in tea The handmaiden speaks As she opens the curtains The sun shines brightly Many ships have docked My kingdom grows in strength and in its beauty Another handmaid Holding a tray of pure gold I see its contents White and gold letters Written by your regal hands Kingdoms near and wide Handmaids open them So many sweet messages Blessings and congrats While sipping my tea I ask for my page and quill Write with golden ink
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Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 12:04 PM UTC
Queendom
I. To sleep... As if I needed affirmation of the weekend from a mouse As if I needed mutually indecipherable dialogue As if I need a hip social setting when Insomnia gets off on my inside As if I need a drink for the prodding of my eyes or charisma for the charming of hers As if we need a hotel or a bed for that matter in Dormiveglia II.* ...perchance to dream.* Darling Insomnia how you dazzle in your quilted queendom of suction Darling Insomnia **** out the vanilla gumming up my timid lungs like sugared venom Darling Insomnia I promise I won't burden you with moans of fantasy-inflicted headaches Darling Insomnia let your sirrah latch his inhalation onto your majestic ***** like an asp Darling Insomnia does subordination in my windpipe do right by your despotic grasp?
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Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 11:57 PM UTC
IN DORMIVEGLIA
When we were children My sister and I rejected The role of princess. They were pretty but weak-- Always needing to be rescued! And we preferred the chiseled faces The greater command of queens. We stood on our beds at night, Wool blankets turned to velvet capes. And we declared our power In broad, silly proclamations Such as “Queen of the Dolls”! Or Rulers of the Woods That stretched off to the east Of our little house, That became a castle Guarded by hooting owls and Baskerville hounds. Arms outstretched, our capes Made leaping sparks And we shouted in our glory. After tiring of commands We launched ourselves into the air And for a moment, ruled the earth, Suspended above our queendom Until we fell onto our beds And laughed with joy, For were we not landing On stacks of feathers, Piled high to avoid a pea, Laid there just for us?
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Oct 4, 2021
Oct 4, 2021 at 3:01 PM UTC
Two Queens
Lady, I thank thee for thy loveliness, Because my lady is more lovely still. Glorying I gaze, and yield with glad goodwill To thee thy tribute; by whose sweet-spun dress Of delicate life Love labours to assess My Lady’s absolute queendom; saying, ‘Lo! How high this beauty is, which yet doth show But as that beauty’s sovereign votaress.’ Lady, I saw thee with her, side by side; And as, when night’s fair fires their queen surround, An emulous star too near the moon will ride,— Even so thy rays within her luminous bound Were traced no more; and by the light so drown’d, Lady, not thou but she was glorified.
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1.3k
The Moonstar
Una kissed each one breast at a time, so softly, her lover, thought of them as melting, unlike when her husband, dear Brian, licked at them like some hound lapping up rain water. Una put kisses on each rib place, gently there, lips brushing, moving on, then she kissed ***** hair to get there, her lover's honey *** her queendom of Eden, arched over her lover, she kissed deep, lips melting, snaky tongue entering, offering no apple, forbidden fruit, but soft love, bringing on to the boil of deep sighs and throat sounds. Her lover, in her turn, entered slow, her middle firm digit, but gently into that Dublin **** which Brian, her husband, never could bring himself to finger enter such a place (such as hers not Una's). As Una kissed softly, her lover, swooning hot, then forgot her Brian's *** failing, but enjoyed so deeply the kisses and tonguing of her hot honey ***
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Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 3:44 AM UTC
UNA KISSED.
I used to own the board we shared, your knights, I had my spies in your Bishops, and your confessions were mine. I played my strategies so quick, That I stole your heart without you even registering the thievery. And as often as you breathed, as often as I laughed, I would say; 'Checkmate'. But somewhere along the line I got complacent And you stabbed me in the back, simply by growing a spine. I think I've been in recovery for half a year now Because I've forgotten how to play. Didn't you at least try to clear the cobwebs in my absence? Because everything looks so sinister now, and I don't like it. And everywhere, daisy-chain crowns lie rotten, Like the wasted queendom of my youth. But you, You still proudly wear your crown of bloodied thorns. And somehow, all my pawns have turned to dust, And the board has dirtied its way to black. Everywhere is open to you now, What once was mine is yours, and yours alone. And now, I've lost my footing. By all rules I shouldn't be here And everywhere I turn, Checkmate.
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May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 4:27 PM UTC
Love Game
The Queen Bee Hello Humble; it’s been a while since you and I first met And I do appreciate all the time I have spent, In the company of such a warm heart. I remember you from the very start. You were the last to come out and play. Are you still the same shy bee that you were that day? No matter; you can only bee who you are And you are a star! Humble; Always remember that, wherever you are. No matter how you are feeling, You will always bee loved, Because Humble, your heart is truly good And I would happily give you my Queendom to rule as your own Humble, If I only could. You must find yourself somebody to love. Do not waste your time on a love that will not last; Find somebody who is truly good And she will love you for who you are Humble…never forget that. I want to see you in here one day Humble, With the love of your life. I want you to bee married someday. I would like to meet your wife; She would have to bee someone very special to win your heart. You stole my heart from the very start. Love true Humble And Love will truly love you… I love you. (C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
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Jul 5, 2019
Jul 5, 2019 at 5:11 AM UTC
15. The Queen Bee
electric — conflated with the doldrum of once ignited feeling on the russet table work and the stringing aroma of flyblown coffee painting the morning something earthenware; i imagine         women lounging and displaying their flamboyant dresses confessing a dull promenade parading their attenuated ***** reveling a queendom on recall and this bane,   merely resolute, gives itself a new meaning as a hand of forgive    men resigning their bags on the corner, grunts, heaves deathly serious disallowing tomorrow's arrival into   a throb of being in place, folding newspapers to a club and smiting fervently along with the endless waiting,       verses lying cold on the froth of the tile and the wind ripening the brew of      contestations — punctuations in their cupboards still and reserved in hermetic    space curating silence, giving dins      their polished ends,    open for all: churlish boys,    naked girls, faith-used women, strife-torn men, usual suspects,      rebels and the overwrought –   never closes like a hand in cold       or a rose, its face occulted by identification sideways torn, inside and out struggling,       scrunched to squint on some pale light through chinks on the battered      wall, sipping coffee,    mmmm, that    morning ripple transcending the          heaviness of the city before me.
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Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 10:13 PM UTC
Café
Don't get ahead of me and write your story! Don't go another chapter. Thinking the mood will capture. I'm in time standing still.. With every bit of my own appeal. In my simple time filled maze. My own lust craze. A variety lost in chapter three. You wont see my feet moving, cuz sum different I see. Listen you stay writing mental notes And making quotes. Of repetitions lil mentions. Yet I've been writing undisturbed proverbs. While entertaining fluffy clouds in hidden suburbs. Speaking unplainly @You How can you Understand me to get to chapter 2. And see me in chapter 3. Tell meh you feeling Me. Selfish..walking talking with a unheard woman. Right now I'ma be selfish cuz there's not lots in common. But Im avoiding confusion.. I'm made of words and proverbs emotions and quotations. And vocals that speak of revelations. A Queendom nation. Bell of a heightened Resurrection. Do I move you to deeper configuration. Or to liquid confusion. As a harp I'm played.. My cords play stayed. Yet to instructions I move, frequently  gently. Not many clearly see the harmony that guides me. I am writer. Server..Praiser..Uplifter..Encourager. Made to stir, seek, employ, create and confer. A waiter..a humble soul..Qualifier..flower. @I'm simply__H.E.R. writer.
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Sep 19, 2020
Sep 19, 2020 at 10:51 AM UTC
OH@Me
I had her heart in my hand but she held my breath in her wonderland attractivated she motormated me and magnet-ied my eyes laser beamed with just one goal that touch me,please me,feely feely Really it was very nice an understatement even if said twice. I saw some distant planetary system when she kissed me and I wished then on a star which fell and far from being here she had taken me out there to share with me her luminosity. How could it last the fires that burn so bright still cast shadows on the wall of my desire but she took me high above all thoughts of love had taken leave I believe she was angel or a demon but she led this man into her Queendom and when done with me she loosed me like a cannon ball which is an entirely different kind of wall like an illusion a colliding of materials in colour sorted serial codes. If it bodes well I'll find she came from heaven and not from hell but at the moment I can't tell and to tell the truth It doesn't worry me.
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Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 12:12 PM UTC
Eastern lights
Fenola ********** to Chopin for Eileen who lies spread on the bed concerto number 2 that would do Eileen said watching sweet Fenola removing her clothing first the blouse the pink one she had bought that first date next the skirt the jet black with matching underwear then the bra removing her fingers holding up before she lets it drop now she stands gazing down taking in the spread of the two thighs the two soft melon ******* the button of her birth and below the ***** dark forest covering her queendom of Eve land she pauses as Chopin number 2 plays softer and Eileen hot moistens Fenola like some cat stealthily on all fours her tongue out licking up the two thighs her two paws and soft claws slow engage the big ******* as her lips move in there to that hot queendom spot to the cries do not stop do not stop.
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Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 3:51 PM UTC
DO NOT STOP.
Yesterday I followed her on Instagram, I guess watching her stories is no harm; Oh, nothing matches hers charm, and her thoughts were pretty much warm "TEXT HER"- my heart raised an alarm. HER about displays "#QUEENDOM", Reading down I asked myself; what's the need to her Royalty? Maybe to evince your Loyalty. She wears motley set of opinions, Oh, one of her post says She hate onions. Her reviews about movies and books shows her Morality, so you can't shield yourself if you are guilty. That snoozed alarm hits again; I don't have words to go beyond her Reign, The disarmed thoughts were on the run again, So I thought to send her the above mentioned words Which were not that much certain.
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Aug 19, 2019
Aug 19, 2019 at 6:25 AM UTC
AN INSTAVENTURE
Fall from the clouds Never looking back Fall into the sea below Never coming back An eternity shall pass But the shadows of your being Will endure forever Thoughts do trespass The unliving, believing Delaying the delayer A fall of freedom Shattering the bonds Here comes queendom And betraying chords Of lovers and justices For words are never the same For another unbeliever Falling down Memories will catch your heartbeat Rend your soul Into a thousand brilliant suns Beyond control An eternity shall pass But the fragrance enduring Will linger forever Thoughts do trespass The unliving, believing Delaying the delayer
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Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 1:02 PM UTC
An Eternity
"No more tears now; I will think about revenge." -- Mary, Queen of Scots ------------------------------------------------ Someone once told me that I have the eyes of a Queen, that they have known sorrow in this life and in the last. I think I must have shared a heart with Mary, Queen of Scots, for I too have experienced profound betrayal, one that has shackled itself to my being so violently, that my soul has turned purple with contusion. Tell me--have you no shame? Will you betray your Queen? Will you exclude her from your most sacred gatherings of friendship and empathy? Will you speak of her most intimate secrets? Will you befriend her foes? Will you defile her name in your own frivolous writings? Will you accuse her of treason so as to distract from your own mutinous crimes? My beloved companions, my brothers and sisters-- will you attempt to commit this heinous sin of sororicide against the woman who loved you so generously (so poetically)? I entreat-- will you? (yet, I know you already have). But though my Queendom may be small, it is not insignificant, for it is vast in ways incomprehensible to your selfish minds-- its kindness and poetry are infinite, both of which you have taken gross advantage of. And though my Queendom may crumble at your hands, it shall never fall; with stanzas mighty and passionate I will rebuild without you. You have overstayed your welcome here. (perhaps you never belonged in the first place). There was once a time when you vowed to protect your Queen and, now, all I've got to show for it is a broken pinkie and the scuff of footprints across my spine. What shall it be next? My head upon a silver platter? No. I was not reborn only so my reign should be sullied by these treacherous sadists I once called "friends". It is my head you want, but this time, it is yours I shall have.
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Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 11:10 PM UTC
Mary, Queen of Scots
"No more tears now; I will think about revenge." -- Mary, Queen of Scots ------------------------------------------------ Someone once told me that I have the eyes of a Queen, that they have known sorrow in this life and in the last. I think I must have shared a heart with Mary, Queen of Scots, for I too have experienced profound betrayal, one that has shackled itself to my being so violently, that my soul has turned purple with contusion. Tell me--have you no shame? Will you betray your Queen? Will you exclude her from your most sacred gatherings of friendship and empathy? Will you speak of her most intimate secrets? Will you befriend her foes? Will you defile her name in your own frivolous writings? Will you accuse her of treason so as to distract from your own mutinous crimes? My beloved companions, my brothers and sisters-- will you attempt to commit this heinous sin of sororicide against the woman who loved you so generously (so poetically)? I entreat-- will you? (yet, I know you already have). But though my Queendom may be small, it is not insignificant, for it is vast in ways incomprehensible to your selfish minds-- its kindness and poetry are infinite, both of which you have taken gross advantage of. And though my Queendom may crumble at your hands, it shall never fall; with stanzas mighty and passionate I will rebuild without you. You have overstayed your welcome here. (perhaps you never belonged in the first place). There was once a time when you vowed to protect your Queen and, now, all I've got to show for it is a broken pinkie and the scuff of footprints across my spine. What shall it be next? My head upon a silver platter? No. I was not reborn only so my reign should be sullied by these treacherous sadists I once called "friends". It is my head you want, but this time, it is yours I shall have.
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79
Lucifer, **** of our pornified planet, gun-running seraph, whose reign is unraveling tries yet again to consolidate, babbling. Heaven will **** it. Paradigms shifting, his queendom implodes. His cave-dwelling subjects discover true sight— then they storm the projection-room: new light. Dawn, delayed, forebodes. No more denial, no more to defend dictatorial oversight, global sedation. The pharmacological indoctrination has now reached its end.
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Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 8:54 AM UTC
Global Fail
27 Today I turn 27, Finding myself not feeling anything, Recovery is a bittersweet ending, Sobriety but a lingering telling, It took 27 lines of ******** drugs, Not the kind you may think off, The kind we are so addicted to, 27 lines of the purest lies, 27 lines of the finest mistreatment, 27 lines of the most mindfucking self harming, 27 lines of the most relaxing coping, 27 lines of the most euphoric settling, It took 27 contracts, To realize that in this tale as old as time ending, Is never too late, To rule over a queendom, Abandoned by the heiress, A queen of a lonely poetry, Fading in the vision, Chasing fantasies, Never seeing the clock behind her, 27 years to wake up from a slumber, A self given kiss, The curse is broken, 27 years of harcore lines, The ones that only make you realize, Delusion is but a poisoned apple, The side effects but a reflection of the hidden mirror, For in the end, my world is but an illusion, The same you wake up to, An actress of everyone's delusions, Never given a chance to envision, The illustrations of a scripture, A tale written by a lonely heiress, One that welcomes, Foes that see the vision, Wolves wearing sheep linen, Their masquerade no longer hidden, 27 years of ******** lines, Rose pink sunglasses the sweetest red wine, 27 years of the finest lines, Why was it so hard, To see what was left behind, A world that is only mine, Looking, looking, and looking, For a savior wearing armor and diamond, Today I realize, The heaviness in my heart, Heaviness of armor I looked past, I had been fighting a war, To protect what is so precious and not far, The vision of a lonely child, Made to closer her eyes, So she would never realize, She was the one she was looking for, Shameless for is never too late, To open the gates of heaven inside.
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Apr 20, 2025
Apr 20, 2025 at 9:11 PM UTC
27
27 Today I turn 27, Finding myself not feeling anything, Recovery is a bittersweet ending, Sobriety but a lingering telling, It took 27 lines of ******** drugs, Not the kind you may think off, The kind we are so addicted to, 27 lines of the purest lies, 27 lines of the finest mistreatment, 27 lines of the most mindfucking self harming, 27 lines of the most relaxing coping, 27 lines of the most euphoric settling, It took 27 contracts, To realize that in this tale as old as time ending, Is never too late, To rule over a queendom, Abandoned by the heiress, A queen of a lonely poetry, Fading in the vision, Chasing fantasies, Never seeing the clock behind her, 27 years to wake up from a slumber, A self given kiss, The curse is broken, 27 years of harcore lines, The ones that only make you realize, Delusion is but a poisoned apple, The side effects but a reflection of the hidden mirror, For in the end, my world is but an illusion, The same you wake up to, An actress of everyone's delusions, Never given a chance to envision, The illustrations of a scripture, A tale written by a lonely heiress, One that welcomes, Foes that see the vision, Wolves wearing sheep linen, Their masquerade no longer hidden, 27 years of ******** lines, Rose pink sunglasses the sweetest red wine, 27 years of the finest lines, Why was it so hard, To see what was left behind, A world that is only mine, Looking, looking, and looking, For a savior wearing armor and diamond, Today I realize, The heaviness in my heart, Heaviness of armor I looked past, I had been fighting a war, To protect what is so precious and not far, The vision of a lonely child, Made to closer her eyes, So she would never realize, She was the one she was looking for, Shameless for is never too late, To open the gates of heaven inside.
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58
My drought had been long My thrist severe inside The desert cold of my loneliness. Such a pining I felt And could not describe but My need was easily understood. I had a craving for contact Of warm skin, conditioned hair, Under the saftey of a comforter. The Night's cold that chills May speak of my need, but the Wounds of my soul held the truth. I could feel myself withering In the cold desert of my feelings- Such a death I wish on no one. My rewaking arose with the cold Sting of a blade, feeling warm against my icy veins. The blade made a flow of words into my mind and bid me to write them here. Of such reminders I have few, But I remember this feeling, Which I asked to wait outside the door. Upon Her entry I remembered why I had avoided Her for so long, Her cold gaze penetrating my heart. It was not in my strength to Fain a second defense against The onslaught of her will. She held me in her frigid embrace And I thanked her for it, For within it was a hint of what I longed. I knew the blade was Hers, And bid her again my gratitude, For I knew this death would let me live. It is almost morbidly humorous That Loneliness can take care of Those enslaved to her so well. Clasping the wound from the blade I walked out the Door, wishing to Turn back and show my rejoice of my freedom. There was little time however, And I wished to say goodbye to a Chosen few, and the journey was harsh. The wind outside howled and snow Bit at my face, much like those I felt necessary to bid my adieu. While I can scarcely recall My meetings with both, I know The burden was lessened by the visit. The touch of a warm hand lingered On my cheek, and the taste of a kiss On my tongue were the only memories I left with. At the Gateway to the Relm of the Warm I looked back quietly on the Land of the Lonely. I know many despise that Queendom, But I cultivated a fondness for it Few can grow, and fewer can explain. At 2AM I took a longing breath Of the coldness that surrounded me And with it I walked out the archway.
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Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 3:00 AM UTC
Queen of Loneliness
My drought had been long My thrist severe inside The desert cold of my loneliness. Such a pining I felt And could not describe but My need was easily understood. I had a craving for contact Of warm skin, conditioned hair, Under the saftey of a comforter. The Night's cold that chills May speak of my need, but the Wounds of my soul held the truth. I could feel myself withering In the cold desert of my feelings- Such a death I wish on no one. My rewaking arose with the cold Sting of a blade, feeling warm against my icy veins. The blade made a flow of words into my mind and bid me to write them here. Of such reminders I have few, But I remember this feeling, Which I asked to wait outside the door. Upon Her entry I remembered why I had avoided Her for so long, Her cold gaze penetrating my heart. It was not in my strength to Fain a second defense against The onslaught of her will. She held me in her frigid embrace And I thanked her for it, For within it was a hint of what I longed. I knew the blade was Hers, And bid her again my gratitude, For I knew this death would let me live. It is almost morbidly humorous That Loneliness can take care of Those enslaved to her so well. Clasping the wound from the blade I walked out the Door, wishing to Turn back and show my rejoice of my freedom. There was little time however, And I wished to say goodbye to a Chosen few, and the journey was harsh. The wind outside howled and snow Bit at my face, much like those I felt necessary to bid my adieu. While I can scarcely recall My meetings with both, I know The burden was lessened by the visit. The touch of a warm hand lingered On my cheek, and the taste of a kiss On my tongue were the only memories I left with. At the Gateway to the Relm of the Warm I looked back quietly on the Land of the Lonely. I know many despise that Queendom, But I cultivated a fondness for it Few can grow, and fewer can explain. At 2AM I took a longing breath Of the coldness that surrounded me And with it I walked out the archway.
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63
Since then been carrying water in that 600ml bottle. The one she lured me with in the scorching heat When my throat was dying for a drink You need it more than anything now sir Said she her thatched shop in the land of nowhere I yielded for the price was not too high For a thirsty soul passing by On the highway happened the fair deal She had one less to sell I had my fill Like the car sir our body too needs oil Said between smiles the woman of the soil For once I loved her piece of wisdom The unpretentious savior, proud owner of her queendom Dunno why since then I’ve been holding onto that bottle As my fairest bargain!
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Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 5:35 AM UTC
From Her Queendom
words spit dancer am i swear to me your queendom how come ing mother lies in stains her sheets clung to that am i scent get away from me mother can you not see that we have grown mad what mother we can barely hear you through these am i shapes roll up your sleeve mother hide the snot from underneath what have you done mother will you womb ever escape me answer me mother come child from under your defenses what are these but painful memories relax my son lay on the tides what mother mother mother answer me mother i's from ? ... .. .
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Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 9:55 AM UTC
i's from
4:55 am, snoring boyfriend is downstairs SOUND asleep I lie awake and seek to reach the deep Well of sound and music, a poetic Kingdom, I made my queendom With. Never tried emjambments but well, They seem to fit, they bring to thoughts freedom. SOUNDS like my well-being To write poetry is living The instants to the fullest Even on a cellphone my rhymes do not rest I may SOUND poised and in control But at first my poems were about pain and all The things that poetry sublimates with her crown I owe much of my style to what Ginsberg wrote down My American poetic self is a committed eye with an everlasting passionate SOUND.
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Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 11:03 PM UTC
Celebratory 100th poem on Hello Poetry
O Sweetheart, some guys might, but I don't mind you sitting above me. O Darling, it gives me great pleasure to watch our sacred-connection, to see the kind looks on your pretty face as you move up and down, to and fro. O Honey, you know exactly   what you do to me, glide so playfully, so effortlessly on my lying-position. O My Love, you are a Rare Goddess, your meekness goes out the window behind our closed doors, And like me, you want more & more. O Rare Goddess, I am your loyal subject, I will oblige your sacred-whim willingly, not fight it, I beg of you, please take me to your Queendom!
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Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 7:02 AM UTC
O Rare Goddess (Take Me To Your Queendom)
The king that you are Caused me to recapture my light By gazing into the prism of your rainbow. The essence of the colors of the flavors of you. Because of the king that you are, the transparency of your polished surface refracted the dullness of my edge into sparkling rays of remembrance. Not is but what could be. The king that you are,ricocheted my power from gray to black into that intangible darkness where the mystery of creation blossoms. into manifestation. The king that you are is water poured into the crevice of my soul, soaking up the wastelands and parched desert regions of my Queendom cultivating me into an orchard of gratitude and thanksgiving. Because of the king that you are,I stand strong like the mighty palm trees dancing in the wind because you selflessly allowed me to bask in your light. The king hat you are is the king that I see.
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Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 12:08 AM UTC
The King That You Are
On to my Queendom, he comes he thinks he could reign me that was his greatest mistake he thought he could read I too thought that he could read but I was mistaken mine loved friend said he loves to read I too thought that he loves to read it seemed so, it looked so but I was mistaken after having walked amongst this poverty I must conclude in tears and tragedy this is the worst and most tragic comedy I ever knew after my literal study (contin.on Part 3) © Sylvia Frances Chan Copyright Protected
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Sep 3, 2017
Sep 3, 2017 at 2:26 AM UTC
MISTAKEN ( Part Two )
Fairy Queen I make my wish Blow across your QUEENDOM watch all wishes granted by you Answered
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Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 7:51 PM UTC
Fairy Queen