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"quell" poems
I'm not just a flirt. When I think about you. It doesn't just hurt. Because you're leaving so soon. Scared and unsure what the void will do. Bandaids don't fix this type of wound. I'm not just a flirt. I've got deep feelings of compassion. More humble than dirt. Empathy that drowns me suddenly. I'll be your rock in this river stream. I'll never be too far. Living more than a dream. I'm not a flirt. Drafts no one will ever see. Passion I'll never quell. Living with regrets. Now that is true hell.
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Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 10:07 AM UTC
I'm not a flirt
Nothing can break the souls bond between twin flames and no matter how long you are apart or what happens you are always connected and sometimes two souls are even created together and in love before they're born. Once a deep and powerful connection between two people has been made they become a vital part of each others lives and there is no separating them and no measure of distance or duration of silence can prevent the outbreak of smiles and laughter or the strong desire to leap into each other's arms when they come together once more. My soulmate lives her life like a flame; A dance of purposeful chaos, Her enchanting light can guide you and quell your fears....She's hot; warming those who respect her and burning those who don't..She is a flame with an unforgettable glow...A weak man will try to dim her luminance ... but her Soulmate will have pleasure in fanning the blaze as I try to do but "soulmate" is an overused term, and a true soul connection is very rare, but very real and a soulmate will always be someone who will make you the most "you" that you can possibly be as she does for me. She is a mystery to me, yet so familiar like a song I've never heard before and a tune I've known my entire life, knowing that we are spiritual beings in human form with a desire  to simply connect with a soul who feels like home. The moment our souls connected, our hearts became one and now every day that I communicate with her I can feel our love continue to grow stronger...stronger with loyalty, respect and encouragement and I am so happy to share my life with her spirit and as we grow old together,as we continue to change with age, there is one thing that will never change...I will always keep falling in love with her.                          Jon York   2018
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Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 6:14 AM UTC
When Two Souls Are Meant To Connect As One
Nothing can break the souls bond between twin flames and no matter how long you are apart or what happens you are always connected and sometimes two souls are even created together and in love before they're born. Once a deep and powerful connection between two people has been made they become a vital part of each others lives and there is no separating them and no measure of distance or duration of silence can prevent the outbreak of smiles and laughter or the strong desire to leap into each other's arms when they come together once more. My soulmate lives her life like a flame; A dance of purposeful chaos, Her enchanting light can guide you and quell your fears....She's hot; warming those who respect her and burning those who don't..She is a flame with an unforgettable glow...A weak man will try to dim her luminance ... but her Soulmate will have pleasure in fanning the blaze as I try to do but "soulmate" is an overused term, and a true soul connection is very rare, but very real and a soulmate will always be someone who will make you the most "you" that you can possibly be as she does for me. She is a mystery to me, yet so familiar like a song I've never heard before and a tune I've known my entire life, knowing that we are spiritual beings in human form with a desire  to simply connect with a soul who feels like home. The moment our souls connected, our hearts became one and now every day that I communicate with her I can feel our love continue to grow stronger...stronger with loyalty, respect and encouragement and I am so happy to share my life with her spirit and as we grow old together,as we continue to change with age, there is one thing that will never change...I will always keep falling in love with her.                          Jon York   2018
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53
Discipline’s rule Will stand you well If you want to move forward And idleness quell Determine your purpose And make a decision Take action in life And plan with precision Order your future Be humble in prayer Gaze beyond your present Advance more than you dare Expand your horizons Gain a new view Launch yourself forward Fly into the blue Set steps in your life And jump on each one Don’t stop til you’re finished And all the tasks done Then gaze at the bounty Of life’s awesome store All the things You’ve accomplished That were just dreams before
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Feb 14, 2010
Feb 14, 2010 at 9:49 AM UTC
Discipline
i you say i am honestly not the same person i say one day i woke up honest and i do not know how to undo experience my own eyes and ears and nose and mouth cannot be undone at the moment how do you do it? push that pressure to the back of your mind like that how do you all manage to laugh with a straight face at things that you know aren't really funny i can't fathom it. where you go when you are stomping and ripping and ****** and jeering and laughing and running it's exhausting to watch you ii i apologize if it doesn't make sense that i can't play along but playing along doesn't make sense i could never win a grammy with this tight lipped smile laughing at the expense of others makes me feel more like a paparazzi placating insecurities for currency leeching off the vulnerability you may not think i'm smart but i am smart enough to know this is not 'normal' and there is nothing wrong with staring at you in the rearview and saying "i wish that was really sarcasm" i'll tell you the truth and you don't have to like it and you don't have to like me and i don't have to like you because if there's one thing i know about myself it's that i don't dislike anybody until they show off their callousness hoping it's the right party trick to gain respect iii we watch comedy tv, and you are worried by the way my spine cracks when i let out a uncontrollable laugh dragging on, beginning to spill, and as i try to quell it my whole body shakes with the pressure of it bubbling inside of me you feel all of this beside of me a small volcano with a bent back quaking absorbed by pillows and flowers and cushions not quite right for you wondering why i couldn't laugh like this earlier when we were not alone everyone is looking for something more porous more willing to let in effortlessly and absorb tirelessly that can simply laugh like a stream bubbles and let go of the undercurrent yet we are sharp and uneven and course like logs and the weight of our actions carries much further being shunted downstream by tides of gravity every intention runs it's course every intention speaks volumes if you feel that in your core every day you will uncontrollably think of how every intention defines the quality of the laughter stuck in someone else's head and you will save it for things that are funny
0
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 4:26 AM UTC
honesty, paparazzi, volcanoes, undercurrents
i you say i am honestly not the same person i say one day i woke up honest and i do not know how to undo experience my own eyes and ears and nose and mouth cannot be undone at the moment how do you do it? push that pressure to the back of your mind like that how do you all manage to laugh with a straight face at things that you know aren't really funny i can't fathom it. where you go when you are stomping and ripping and ****** and jeering and laughing and running it's exhausting to watch you ii i apologize if it doesn't make sense that i can't play along but playing along doesn't make sense i could never win a grammy with this tight lipped smile laughing at the expense of others makes me feel more like a paparazzi placating insecurities for currency leeching off the vulnerability you may not think i'm smart but i am smart enough to know this is not 'normal' and there is nothing wrong with staring at you in the rearview and saying "i wish that was really sarcasm" i'll tell you the truth and you don't have to like it and you don't have to like me and i don't have to like you because if there's one thing i know about myself it's that i don't dislike anybody until they show off their callousness hoping it's the right party trick to gain respect iii we watch comedy tv, and you are worried by the way my spine cracks when i let out a uncontrollable laugh dragging on, beginning to spill, and as i try to quell it my whole body shakes with the pressure of it bubbling inside of me you feel all of this beside of me a small volcano with a bent back quaking absorbed by pillows and flowers and cushions not quite right for you wondering why i couldn't laugh like this earlier when we were not alone everyone is looking for something more porous more willing to let in effortlessly and absorb tirelessly that can simply laugh like a stream bubbles and let go of the undercurrent yet we are sharp and uneven and course like logs and the weight of our actions carries much further being shunted downstream by tides of gravity every intention runs it's course every intention speaks volumes if you feel that in your core every day you will uncontrollably think of how every intention defines the quality of the laughter stuck in someone else's head and you will save it for things that are funny
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68
_1981_ They came in like diseased eagles; mutated forms of those they wore on their chest and with the change once again in the weather, the ZOMO swooped in to quell what was ‘wrong’, what would bring them down. They run in the streets as well as the miners, running for different reasons and different aims. I look down, out my window and see the army helmets littering the street like rats.             Police.          Rats. I could no longer see a difference. My father went to work that morning. I clutch my doll knowing the chance of seeing him again is             Miniscule.   Poor. There is no more cereal in the cupboard; there is no more cereal in the shop; there is no more shop. The ZOMO set it on fire when the word                           Solidarity appeared in the window. “We are closing the border for the safety of the People”             Incorrect.     Unjustified. For the safety of You, the Elite. “Nine killed in mine shooting” Which side? Only the ZOMO carry guns.             Fascism.       Communism. I could no longer see a difference
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Apr 9, 2017
Apr 9, 2017 at 9:40 AM UTC
ZOMO
At school I had trouble socializing, And still, The Owl, comes all too late? My formative years are spent deep within caves searching, Yet The Owl is never found there? The failures and sadness accumulate over time, Leaving The Owl traversing some other’s sky, I feel life slipping away each day, And still The Owl never manifests! Where is The Owl? Does it not come with time? Will cleverness induce her, perhaps woo her with rhyme? Quell restless mind, The Owl reforge me so I’m freed! Grant me your talons so that I may succeed! And still, The Owl, who never manifests, And still The Owl never manifests. I curl chalky fingers into travertine-grip, Aged ruin takes a hold, in my despair as I slip, Sans which The Owl never did manifest, To wit, sans The Owl, pounding sand as I jest, So what, The Owl, never did manifest? And still The Owl never manifests. Life without The Owl, was no life at all, No solemnity of greatness, a life of doltish pit-fall. And still The Owl never manifests. And still The Owl never manifests.
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Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 8:02 AM UTC
Sans The Owl
¤¤¤ I've had dreams by day That brought the nightmares back. In the daylights exposure it was dark   When the negative light was bright. In the sea of people I was the floating remains Of a Great White's meal.  On the lonely roads of thought My mind was in gridlock. Comforting memories were suspended Over a psychic black hole By jagged and rusted Medieval-type surgical tools. My remaining senses Were nailed to a cross-section Of psychically atrophied grey matter Along neural pathways Guarded by gladiator-type tormentors. Left with nothing But the stinging desire to be freed From a curse that had to be cured And the hell of searching for a cure When I was convinced there wasn’t one. The powers that be come with force To quell primal lusts & desires Forbidding you of them As they seductively Dangle them before your eyes    Until you are so frustrated and unfulfilled That you no longer Care for your world.   This cracked glass remains empty Even though it is constantly being filled Then spilled or leaked on the floor Until you learn to lap it up Like the lapdog that you have become For their amusement. You remain with a love for freedom   But your cage is so large  That you think you are free Lost in societal fantasy. You think for a while That these fantasies are real    Until you come to your senses that aren’t As you join other fools In comfort that you're not the only Broken-back pack-mule.  But in spite of it all And in the face of them all Don't let these birds of prey                                                           And powers that be Deprive you of what they cannot see In that hidden corner Of what is still untouched-- The real you Uninfected by the world.   Take care of your spiritual affairs. Don't let the global beast And your primal hissing forces Make you be your own pallbearer.
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Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 6:28 PM UTC
A Soul Suspended Over a Psychic Black Hole
¤¤¤ I've had dreams by day That brought the nightmares back. In the daylights exposure it was dark   When the negative light was bright. In the sea of people I was the floating remains Of a Great White's meal.  On the lonely roads of thought My mind was in gridlock. Comforting memories were suspended Over a psychic black hole By jagged and rusted Medieval-type surgical tools. My remaining senses Were nailed to a cross-section Of psychically atrophied grey matter Along neural pathways Guarded by gladiator-type tormentors. Left with nothing But the stinging desire to be freed From a curse that had to be cured And the hell of searching for a cure When I was convinced there wasn’t one. The powers that be come with force To quell primal lusts & desires Forbidding you of them As they seductively Dangle them before your eyes    Until you are so frustrated and unfulfilled That you no longer Care for your world.   This cracked glass remains empty Even though it is constantly being filled Then spilled or leaked on the floor Until you learn to lap it up Like the lapdog that you have become For their amusement. You remain with a love for freedom   But your cage is so large  That you think you are free Lost in societal fantasy. You think for a while That these fantasies are real    Until you come to your senses that aren’t As you join other fools In comfort that you're not the only Broken-back pack-mule.  But in spite of it all And in the face of them all Don't let these birds of prey                                                           And powers that be Deprive you of what they cannot see In that hidden corner Of what is still untouched-- The real you Uninfected by the world.   Take care of your spiritual affairs. Don't let the global beast And your primal hissing forces Make you be your own pallbearer.
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62
She comes to me every night... When all is asleep with stars lit yonder. Comes to me with subtle might Peeking fiendishly from darkness's cover Await such time she'd choose to show Await the chance to finally take. Ready to pounce like a well tensioned bow Arrow-like talons, ever honed to stake. Awake or asleep, she would come without fail. Creep is her gait; this shadow clad figure. Always a ***** in my impervious mail. Claiming her wants with ferocious fervour. Deemed to be strong, easier to succumb. Don't fight...don't struggle... Don't call for aid... Just wait and will yourself numb She'd come regardless of prayers that's said. She was here with me last night In bed, I stared at a being that's faceless... And my heart wrenched tight. Gripping and feeding me senseless... Soon as she came, she left but not before Siphoning the good and replacing with dread... Stole was what she did; left me wanting more... Once deed is done, into the dark she fled. I know her all too well, Nocturnal guest that I unknowingly invite Her intentions to incite, not quell Send me spiralling through emotional blight. Day will recede, making room for dark She'll come; swift and without sound. She'll arrive majestic; inflicting her mark I'll wait for her, ready and unbound. Looking forward to her return This silent foe whom I find familiar. With every touch I cringe and burn Oh secret friend whom I'm beginning to savour... She is synonymous with various names Each would bear the likeness of semblance Let fly her cloak of not dissimilar aims Endearingly I call her..., Despondence...
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Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 12:23 AM UTC
Familiar F(r)iend
She comes to me every night... When all is asleep with stars lit yonder. Comes to me with subtle might Peeking fiendishly from darkness's cover Await such time she'd choose to show Await the chance to finally take. Ready to pounce like a well tensioned bow Arrow-like talons, ever honed to stake. Awake or asleep, she would come without fail. Creep is her gait; this shadow clad figure. Always a ***** in my impervious mail. Claiming her wants with ferocious fervour. Deemed to be strong, easier to succumb. Don't fight...don't struggle... Don't call for aid... Just wait and will yourself numb She'd come regardless of prayers that's said. She was here with me last night In bed, I stared at a being that's faceless... And my heart wrenched tight. Gripping and feeding me senseless... Soon as she came, she left but not before Siphoning the good and replacing with dread... Stole was what she did; left me wanting more... Once deed is done, into the dark she fled. I know her all too well, Nocturnal guest that I unknowingly invite Her intentions to incite, not quell Send me spiralling through emotional blight. Day will recede, making room for dark She'll come; swift and without sound. She'll arrive majestic; inflicting her mark I'll wait for her, ready and unbound. Looking forward to her return This silent foe whom I find familiar. With every touch I cringe and burn Oh secret friend whom I'm beginning to savour... She is synonymous with various names Each would bear the likeness of semblance Let fly her cloak of not dissimilar aims Endearingly I call her..., Despondence...
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41
In times gone by, now recondite, Neanderthal, ***** upright, spoke softly, tones so lily-white, and tried to put the world aright. He taught us how the flame ignites that wearing furs will warm the nights, just why the rolling wheel excites, and how the beveled flint stone bites. Before the days of dynamite he fought his foes with spit and spite, and swung big sticks with all his might, and rendered death with stones in flight. Engaged in never-ending fight (arenas were a global sight) he forced his forces to unite to sate his oily appetite. To quell rude thoughts that may incite he ruled the realm with fly-by-nights and culled the winds of words in flight, and darkened minds to anthracite. With fairy tales of evil sprites and how the fist of freedom smites, he washed the world with flames alight to vanquish hoards of parasites. Each dawn the damage brought delight, the foe was bent, a bit contrite… yet battled on with no respite until the dusk and evening light. Encamped beside the firelight Neanderthal, that shiny Knight, awaited morn while sitting tight assured the end would be alright. Yes, conquest seemed his sacred right… Forevermore?… well, no, not quite… Neanderthal's extinct tonight and lies beside the Trilobite… MORAL The Oreo is round, not bright: while rolling near the candlelight at first the searing seemed so slight, the molten cream an oversight…
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Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 3:03 PM UTC
Neanderthal
You will not see my shadow pass the gate of mournings eerie dark Nor hear my voice among the reeds that grow above my silenced heart No fondest kiss to furrowed brow to quell the torment of your making for you have left me here alone to sleep the sleep that knows no waking.
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Sep 19, 2016
Sep 19, 2016 at 6:49 AM UTC
Torment
under this suburban sky red stain on the dull gray, when you move away to your elsewhere you revive as a fish returning to the water after a short yet intense pain for you I'm the bait and the hook and the fisherman too, not in that order in the order you decide since you decide you are elusive, you always look away and tighten your eyes your words are lashes I feel weak in your presence, at the same time your fragility confuses me and it moves me as a boat adrift in a lonely sea ................... sotto questo cielo suburbano macchia rossa su grigio opaco, quando ti muovi nel tuo altrove, tu rivivi come un pesce che ritorna in acqua dopo un'agonia breve ma intensa per te io sono esca amo ed anche  pescatore, ma non in quell'ordine nell'ordine in cui decidi e tu decidi sei inafferrabile, distogli sempre lo sguardo e stringi gli occhi le tue parole sono staffilate mi sento debole in tua presenza, allo tempo stesso la tua fragilità mi confonde e mi commuove come una  barca alla deriva in un solitario mare .................. bajo este cielo suburbano mancha roja en gris opaco, cuando te alejas a tu otro lugar, tu revives como un pez que regresa al agua después de un dolor breve pero intenso yo soy cebo para ti y gancho y también  pescador pero no en ese orden en el orden en que tu decidas y tu decides eres evasiva, siempre mira hacia otro lado y cierras los ojos tus palabras son latigazos me siento débil en tu presencia, al mismo tiempo, tu fragilidad me confunde y me conmueve como un barco a la deriva en un solitario mar
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Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 9:05 AM UTC
as a boat adrift
under this suburban sky red stain on the dull gray, when you move away to your elsewhere you revive as a fish returning to the water after a short yet intense pain for you I'm the bait and the hook and the fisherman too, not in that order in the order you decide since you decide you are elusive, you always look away and tighten your eyes your words are lashes I feel weak in your presence, at the same time your fragility confuses me and it moves me as a boat adrift in a lonely sea ................... sotto questo cielo suburbano macchia rossa su grigio opaco, quando ti muovi nel tuo altrove, tu rivivi come un pesce che ritorna in acqua dopo un'agonia breve ma intensa per te io sono esca amo ed anche  pescatore, ma non in quell'ordine nell'ordine in cui decidi e tu decidi sei inafferrabile, distogli sempre lo sguardo e stringi gli occhi le tue parole sono staffilate mi sento debole in tua presenza, allo tempo stesso la tua fragilità mi confonde e mi commuove come una  barca alla deriva in un solitario mare .................. bajo este cielo suburbano mancha roja en gris opaco, cuando te alejas a tu otro lugar, tu revives como un pez que regresa al agua después de un dolor breve pero intenso yo soy cebo para ti y gancho y también  pescador pero no en ese orden en el orden en que tu decidas y tu decides eres evasiva, siempre mira hacia otro lado y cierras los ojos tus palabras son latigazos me siento débil en tu presencia, al mismo tiempo, tu fragilidad me confunde y me conmueve como un barco a la deriva en un solitario mar
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46
~ Of light at play…day’s end, to cease Now mirrored of a rippled sea Casting long in shadowed dreams A drifting silhouette…at peace Sail on, sail on, currents feed this destined course Arcs, spun gold…on dance card wings Lemon dust, the sifted sound Framed of flowing tangerine Silence sings…as truth is found Sail on, sail on, captured breezes…quiet source Abstract waves…in curtained sweep Drape this ocean’s fantasy Melodic so the depth to breathe Champagne tints the tapestry Sail on, sail on, horizon’s beckoned rendezvous Citrine jeweled on zephyr’s flight Calmly cools in twilight feel Motions quell the rhythm’d night Beliefs this sun shall soon conceal Sail on, sail on, as daylight disappears from view
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Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
Sail on, sail on
She is like a fire in my soul, I crave her Flesh against flesh, only she livens me A slave to my lust, entranced by her beauty I have a need to see her in pain And in my mind, these visions I have of her Kneeling before me, expectantly waiting With bruises and bites, the marks of my love Unsatisified, my longing increases An ordinary name turns to a divine symphony When uttered, but only with her in mind This goddess I must make my slave Though she'll be forever the one in control Waking dreams of sordid acts Fill my mind each night and day I close my eyes and watch her body writhe With agony and ecstasy I pull her closer into me And feel a pleasure so intense I wonder if I've died She begs me to call her a ***** My hands around her neck As I feel each breath travel in and out And study the curve of her back Consumed and enthralled, she whispers my name My name is the sound of victory Dark queen of desire, let us bathe in this fire Of passion burning blissfully In this, our inferno of celestial sin Where unbridled lust meets uncovered skin Her deafening rapture that shakes her throughout Is all that can quell my burning within
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Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 5:30 PM UTC
The Burning Within
*Hungered for a taste   of your elixir's essence, drunken inhalations    of your poetry a splendiferous whirl  of time & space 'tween darkly scented moons     and sun's adoration, blithe starry nights amidst meditative new dawn's effervesce,  spirited of the heart, gleaned in the soul, yearnings of another   chapter's paradise universal experiences etched of hourglass sand,  written upon endlessly     chimerical verses wildflower gardens drenched     of dandelion's plum wine swooning under a hypnotic scripted spell, intoxicating power of unchained symphonies dancing amongst skies' released euphoria  resonating in a song's    reprised melodies, breathlessness of delirium's   celestial pauses   in vaporous breezes'   unfurling undulation, captivated by rhythmic   destiny reverberating in      loins' pleasurable calling   quenched of sacred      offering's quell transcending earthly    persuasions' rhyme, let me lick the nectar from    your  poesy's  insatiable  lips, sweet mercy's healing    captured in rapturous    surrender's reawakening ~* *Je veux que vous tous, tu me manques* Ce que vous manquez de moi?
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Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 12:05 AM UTC
Je te veux (sensual)
Eyes of fear, Mouth of shock Because I never saw it coming. To the arena I return again, My darkest horror already starting. To my left, I turn to see my mother, Trying not to sob, As I rethink the memories I always had during summers At the Hob. Eyes wet, Arms tired, Barging through the door, While picturing the future And all the madness that's in store. Gale and Prim, My only treasures, Are soon to say goodbye. For this year in the Quarter Quell, No more will there be a tie. I'm deep in thought As I review the words For my last farewell, When I realize a secret for Haymitch That I can't wait to tell. To protect Peeta In this terrifying Quell Is my one and only goal, For I want him to come back to it And live peacefully In this district of coal. To be strong is what I think of While under the stars I lay. To be strong The only solution For I am the Mockingjay.
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Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 9:14 AM UTC
The Mockingjay
The city takes your soul block by block While you sit on the curb in mismatched socks Trying to retain your extremely weak but steadfast streak of being unique Cities aren't 24-hour Christmas The trick is to remain ambitious Hands in your lap No eye contact Going tap tap tap on your Citizens app While discreetly doodling a Sharpie spaceship on the subway seat Hitting the street With sick beats in your feet Cuz thoughts of quotas and quarters won't quell a quintessential quest To push the city to its limits and try your very best To keep biting your nails behind elevator doors Cuz no chewed-up hands are exactly like yours A balancing act Trying not to get trapped Or smothered by facts But undeniably I love what's inside of me My heart keeps me alive But what I love makes me live The city takes my soul But I've got soul to give.
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May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 3:16 AM UTC
City
the tides swell and hearts quell my body shakes in anticipation of profund ecstasy of liberation and not the emptiness of libations the bright moon light keeps the revelers out thirsting for soemthing they cannot name in a drunken fanatic frenzy they shout claiming a new change in life when they remain the same the ocean waves crash and so do my thoughts an uncontrollable maelstrom that spreads like a rash only to find peace in the still silence I've always sought Finally I am home and I bask in the light of the full moon I too was a reveled once howling at the moon but now instead I drink in the spirit of life I might have spoke too soon because my heart still feels stife
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May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 12:03 AM UTC
full moon
What lies beyond this wall? What lays on the other side? What's at the end should I take the fall? Where's the destination punctuating this ride? Will there be a bed of green as my cushion? Will there be a ceiling of azure comforting my eyes? Will fingers of the sun soothe my delusions? Will the drops from the sky quell my cries? [brick][brick][brick][brick][brick][brick] [brick][brick][brick][brick][brick][brick] [brick][brick][brick]Or[brick][brick][brick] [brick][brick][brick][brick][brick][brick] [brick][brick][brick][brick][brick][brick] Will my back be received by hardened soil? Will the angry earth be crusty and cracked? Will my lungs taste the heated air of turmoil? Will my posture still be bent by the weight I packed? What lies for us beyond this wall? What would happen when we pick a side? Would we survive if fate controls this fall? Will we be hand in hand or hands apart by the end of this ride?
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Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 10:22 AM UTC
Beyond the Wall
Out of the dark forest I stumbled onto the pebbles of a moonlit lake my languid eyes bumbled swallowing down philter mistakes a pale goddess in the flesh how my stupefied eyes stared at the beauty of her nakedness something in me flared flared and turned and burned my flesh no longer mine stag in form standing taciturn she calls out for my canines I run and try to yell nothing escapes my lungs pattering of legs hungry to quell come to rip flesh with teeth and tongues stumbling and tripping over stones, limbs, roots and mud left to a new life a stag rover I hear the ******* and the studs faster and faster I try to move from this typhoon wave of carnivorous hounds but curse these feeble hooves the claws and teeth came crashing around flesh stabbed with a thousand teeth a pack of mouths tear and pull a stag corpse I bequeath   to the hunger of my own wolves
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Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 2:07 PM UTC
Actaeon the Stag
you came to me in the first dewdrops of spring with the scent of newleaf lingering on your lips and the taste of fresh rosebuds and honeysuckle a mere whisper on my tongue your kiss the heat of summer sunlight blistering against my skin and ripping my throat open in a blaze of inferno heaven knows how you quell the flames with the same brush of lips against mine you dance forever in my mind’s eye on dappled autumn leaves with the swirl of the breeze tousling in your hair a symphony of red yellow brown and glittering eyes footsteps going crunch crunch crunch over the carpet of my heart your goodbye is the wind that whips through my eternal winter as the snow settles in the silent solstice i crave crave crave crave the fervent heat once more just once more REPEAT. cyclic cyclic cyclic as i fall in love with you all over again. (like the mist that rolls in with the first snow that tumbles like waves from the sky/like the budding of the flowers in the garden and the fallen petals beneath your soles/like the gradual melt of ice cream onto sticky fingers and stained flip-flops/like the green fading into a myriad of blossoming colour the facade of beauty disguising slow death) baby, you break my heart slow
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Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 1:39 AM UTC
season
The Weary, they wander Tempest-tossed Onto my Lonely shores, Sailors with Shipwrecked vessels, Travelers grim with Soles scraped sore They seek to quell Their solitude Ill fated and alone, And finding me Beside the sea Lamenting, They postpone I welcome them With flames alight Inside the hearth Of my heart Although I know They never stay, That soon they will Depart Every time that One arrives The feeling sprouts Anew He'll leave me And I know it, But there's nothing I can do I am Calypso, cursed To long for love That is unchanging No solace rolls in With the tide The tempest, still, Is raging.
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Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 1:40 PM UTC
Calypso
There came quiet the colors of your cinnamon skin, its taste, persimmon spread in red syllables and quicksilver spills in the folds of this tickled silence, Laden with prophesy the white thought of love leaps through the tamarack pastures, suet to the shadows of dahlias, flesh you say, is water and its symmetry, a penetrating sound of pure ebullience, Love, in the pale baton of light you coax from cognac eyes, open my veins to every thorn in the garden, rumors of rain, say nothing and endure, Spread over panes of glass where butterflies drown in the sweat of our charms and moths drop from the true color of lunacy, cold depths lapse softly into my flesh, I hurt, in that quiet shatter of light, and from moth-eaten thighs you soak the ****** of earth with velvet tears and lavender, spread its dark balsam to quell the quick faith with sighs, as reluctantly, the soul speaks what the body has written, and gives-in to its asylum....
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Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 1:20 PM UTC
There Came Quiet
*People call this place hell But if it is Everything I do I do well Cause baby I was hades Powerful enough to quell All kinds of men and ladies Like a God of the underworld For I roamed this places Like an innocent young girl I had many faces*
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Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 9:57 PM UTC
Two faced
The most beautiful hour in L.A. is 3 A.M., when, petals of lavender peep through wooden blinds, lulling restless minds laid on Egyptian Cotton candy clouds amuse me. Because as I close my eyes, I realize, that here, there is no starry night because this beautiful haze is light pollution. But pollutions' hue calms a city mind. Like sirens quell eager ears, And liquor tickles tantalized tongues, And words flow from numb knuckles, And insomnia wets drying eyes, I, am struck, that this lavender haze helps me see that too much is always what I need.
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Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 2:28 PM UTC
Lavender Haze