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"rainclouds" poems
The nightsky is alike a mighty mansion of the stars which then twinkle in elegance, beauty and transience until the dawn outshines them in a graceful manner. As the night turns away from the sun and from her light, danger in our imagination could await, from the corners of our very mind. Yet the stars make up a soft blanket, a cover of the calmest of light, which could bring peace to a soul which is performing a rampage. All the constilations, all the names and forms which reveal themselves, are but a heavenly spectra for those who are nocturnal. Or for those, whom have meet the cruel fate to be allergic to the natural, straight forward, warming and blissful sunlight. There is no soul with no protector, in the nightsky such would be a bright,piercing star, standing proud,manifest its location is over you Holding many wonders, the beauty of the night comes with shooting stars, which at times shortly sweep over the heaven before fading. Wishes are made upon, hope fills their hearts, for a better future or a fulfilment of their desires, tangled up within the depth of mind. Night becomes bright once the moon shines, in its fullest posture. Becomes dark once the rainclouds drive near, calling in thunder. But most importantly, it is a time of rest, from all this earth beholds ~ Umi
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Feb 10, 2018
Feb 10, 2018 at 1:30 AM UTC
The Nightsky
The sky above me, closed in as the dark, ominous yet fascinating rainclouds have driven near, gathering together in a council. As it begins to drizzle, soft, warm and little raindrops, fall in line, gently, carelessly hitting the earth, moistening it in their line. Once in a while, as the rain gains its strengh, hitting the ground below with more speed and roughlessness in their action, Rays of the purest light, sent by the sun as it shines above the darkening sky, a sensation for ones optic nerv, a sensation for the eye, make it through and let this scene shine further more. Graceful drops, carrried and distorted by the majestic wind, Create a lovely melody on my window, as they one by one fly into it. Now as the soil is fertilised, life will surely grow from the sunlight. Alike the raindrops are carried by the wind, my mind engages with this scene, lets me fall in love with this beautiful earth. A little rain shall not be the cause of sadness, as it truly is a reminder of the moments of love wich it makes easier to determine. So I keep my gaze out of the window and enjoy the weather Until then, the sky clears up and the sun shines again. ~ Umi
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Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 5:19 PM UTC
The Rain
A crimson day unfolds with sunshine, Horrid, the creature of hatred creeps around and blocks the sun off gruesome dark rainclouds summon up from the east, counciling, The mother of purity, caught in endless fury as her child was taken from her, before her very eyes, an eternal spring dream, shatters now, By her own mistake, she invited prohibited emotions for this creature, The angel of hers she wanted to take under her wing and raise, was now gone, as if it was all an illusion which is lost due time, due evil, A sea of flowers is blooming, a warmer season has arrived finally, but for her misfortune, her inside remains cold and distant to her grief, Raging storms within her clouded her mind, she can't even think straigh but to believe, of what a bad mother she must have been to let this happen to her most precious treasure, ah demons of ones past, Repressing her true feelings gave her headaches, but it was alright because the pain would surely fade, then she could be pure again, But deep inside she knew that for this child she had given up a part of herself, so maybe things would be different, even if everything returns to its old shape, or rather if everything appeared that way, Mother Purity would never be the same again, as her daughter faded, After all, even she is only human. ~ Umi
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Apr 2, 2018
Apr 2, 2018 at 12:27 PM UTC
Purity of ones Dream
What is it ? The mere thought of happiness that rushes through our veins, When we see someone we love, our crush, our family, the sunshine, If those were to fade away, a part of us would simply shatter, vanish, Rainclouds would keep away the sunshine in our life the heavy wind would brush through our hair and remind us of such great tragedies, Alike a sleeping terror, the chains of fate, the flow of time become; Meaningless, without what has been blown away like ash by a breeze, What you must not forget, will never lose, what wont change is... The past, where your memories, our remarkable actions are living, Hold them dear, these several rays of sunlight to keep the rainclouds away, to pull yourself together and shine beyond the scene, rise. Even if you do lose all your strengh and your muscles refuse to carry your beautiful soul trapped within the flesh of your very existence, Even if you fall into an abyss of despair, devoured by regret. As long as you are alive, you may as well do a change. As long as you are alive, you can make the present joyous by striving for a better future, for yourself, for what you lost. Live, for the love of light is for all to bear. ~ Umi [M i d w a y - H i m e]
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Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 8:40 PM UTC
What is it ?
the world sits on the wing of a dove being swallowed whole by a fiery goddess descended from heaven on a chariot of ivy i am incarcerated by shaking flesh and itching cloth the road before me is giant and knows no bounds the graveyard is warm and wet with spirits and dew and red clouds are born from fire in the dawn there is an intelligent horse being ridden by a snarling insect and this man has come to claim our souls our sunset blood burns boils blisters until a million animals wounded i'm still alive, transfigure me into a creator choke up my nostrils with the scent of your *** invade my lungs with the burn of your god caress my toungue with the infinite promise enter my brain from above, and regurgitate your anxiety on me slimy worms devour a psychadelic tomato laughing into transendency, an eyeless eel has dissappeared into a pocket i speak from balconies, from terrible heights, from hastened windowsills in a million desperate quarrelling cities this is where i **** up illusion, i give up to despondency i ring the great iron bell that resounds with corruption, with hatred, with hideous *** and admiration, i scream and cavort on rooftops alone with a black & blue midnight covered in electric lights and gunpowder tongues here comes the disintegration of my mind disgraced by the eye of the earth and spat into a realm of salivating light i am swimming through digested heartbreak and melancholy livers sickened by madness and homemade bombs and ****** the rainclouds carry a truckload of babies' hearts and it's raining eyes over the city now the cry of the mind escapes from waving mouths in impotence as millions of bacteria invade the brain may these lines be answered by the bird of the sun by the worm at my ear by the sight of my skeleton by the stench of ***** in the air by the dead gong shivering through midnight by the bleeding eye of abandoned dreams by the prophets in proclamation by the god of all my sorrows
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Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 9:55 PM UTC
intelligent horse
the world sits on the wing of a dove being swallowed whole by a fiery goddess descended from heaven on a chariot of ivy i am incarcerated by shaking flesh and itching cloth the road before me is giant and knows no bounds the graveyard is warm and wet with spirits and dew and red clouds are born from fire in the dawn there is an intelligent horse being ridden by a snarling insect and this man has come to claim our souls our sunset blood burns boils blisters until a million animals wounded i'm still alive, transfigure me into a creator choke up my nostrils with the scent of your *** invade my lungs with the burn of your god caress my toungue with the infinite promise enter my brain from above, and regurgitate your anxiety on me slimy worms devour a psychadelic tomato laughing into transendency, an eyeless eel has dissappeared into a pocket i speak from balconies, from terrible heights, from hastened windowsills in a million desperate quarrelling cities this is where i **** up illusion, i give up to despondency i ring the great iron bell that resounds with corruption, with hatred, with hideous *** and admiration, i scream and cavort on rooftops alone with a black & blue midnight covered in electric lights and gunpowder tongues here comes the disintegration of my mind disgraced by the eye of the earth and spat into a realm of salivating light i am swimming through digested heartbreak and melancholy livers sickened by madness and homemade bombs and ****** the rainclouds carry a truckload of babies' hearts and it's raining eyes over the city now the cry of the mind escapes from waving mouths in impotence as millions of bacteria invade the brain may these lines be answered by the bird of the sun by the worm at my ear by the sight of my skeleton by the stench of ***** in the air by the dead gong shivering through midnight by the bleeding eye of abandoned dreams by the prophets in proclamation by the god of all my sorrows
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At times can be seen melting together One into the other like a loving couple At times drifting as a lonely wanderer The clouds are there to imitate people It can't move on a journey on its own Without energy clouds are immovable It'll stay motionless if not wind blown Prodding to be productive like people Some are peacocks parading with flair Of damsels bosoms as white as marble Putting air pompous what do I care Show fame without shame like people Arms ready for war it's getting warm They gather warring forces for battle They march whip up a thunderstorm Rainclouds hungry for war like people Clouds can be big cloud can be small Can be rich prosperous can be poor Like people accumulate only to lose all To earn and loss and earn once more They orbit the earth decorated the sky Unaware of mortal affairs just rumble Prone to fallacy or vanity as you and I Can't help noticed clouds are like people
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Nov 16, 2017
Nov 16, 2017 at 11:29 PM UTC
Clouds Are Like People
Manila is beautiful at night, Seen from overhead, high above rainclouds in the night sky with a tantalizing view of car exhaust and the debris of broken dreams Manila is beautiful at night. It comes and goes like a shadow in flickering light. At first, it hides behind wispy rain clouds, playful as a child hiding in his mother's skirt. If you look closely, it's lights glisten-- golden and teasing It's incessant winking, an almost promise of what's to come From your aerial vantage point, you wonder: "This is what it must be like to be an Angel when they fly" Below the city, with all it's secrets, sprawls like a handful: A rich lady's heirloom diamonds, thrown carelessly on a ***** floor. It will somehow remind you of a creature: perhaps human, or Leviathan in it's wake Cities, after all, are their own specie of living things At first it is looks like a Brain, with neurons and synapses electric and active Certain spots of the city: mall compelexes and large parking lots, like the nuclei of a brain cell the roads that lead to and fro, the cars zipping up and down in red and yellow lines remind you of dendrites and axons, stretching far They communicate with each other in their own language; a code Your imagination runs wild with untamed fantasy On next glance, it looks like a heart. The whole city pulses magnificently in unison it seems. Thud, thud. Thud, thud. You feel it? Your heart follows it's tantalizing rhythmic pattern, it's muscle beats Though and through the city pumps it's lifeblood into each nook and cranny Oh how it entices your passion so. At last you seem to hear it breathing. Listen closely and hear Manila inhale and exhale in steady tunes Inhale, and exhale-- a silence comes over you, And it's strangely reminiscent of amazement, excitement and bitter fear Your ears dull and you listen to the rush of air in your lungs, the deep drum bass of the pounding of your heart the dizzying feeling that exists in your brain Manila really is beautiful at night. In the shroud of darkness, it rises from slumber; Vivacious and lovely, it's seductive and free Manila is lovely. Manila is a woman, as it should be.
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Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 1:57 PM UTC
Pearl City (Part One)
Manila is beautiful at night, Seen from overhead, high above rainclouds in the night sky with a tantalizing view of car exhaust and the debris of broken dreams Manila is beautiful at night. It comes and goes like a shadow in flickering light. At first, it hides behind wispy rain clouds, playful as a child hiding in his mother's skirt. If you look closely, it's lights glisten-- golden and teasing It's incessant winking, an almost promise of what's to come From your aerial vantage point, you wonder: "This is what it must be like to be an Angel when they fly" Below the city, with all it's secrets, sprawls like a handful: A rich lady's heirloom diamonds, thrown carelessly on a ***** floor. It will somehow remind you of a creature: perhaps human, or Leviathan in it's wake Cities, after all, are their own specie of living things At first it is looks like a Brain, with neurons and synapses electric and active Certain spots of the city: mall compelexes and large parking lots, like the nuclei of a brain cell the roads that lead to and fro, the cars zipping up and down in red and yellow lines remind you of dendrites and axons, stretching far They communicate with each other in their own language; a code Your imagination runs wild with untamed fantasy On next glance, it looks like a heart. The whole city pulses magnificently in unison it seems. Thud, thud. Thud, thud. You feel it? Your heart follows it's tantalizing rhythmic pattern, it's muscle beats Though and through the city pumps it's lifeblood into each nook and cranny Oh how it entices your passion so. At last you seem to hear it breathing. Listen closely and hear Manila inhale and exhale in steady tunes Inhale, and exhale-- a silence comes over you, And it's strangely reminiscent of amazement, excitement and bitter fear Your ears dull and you listen to the rush of air in your lungs, the deep drum bass of the pounding of your heart the dizzying feeling that exists in your brain Manila really is beautiful at night. In the shroud of darkness, it rises from slumber; Vivacious and lovely, it's seductive and free Manila is lovely. Manila is a woman, as it should be.
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Why must judgement dominate us today, Accusations fly like fishing rod lines, In the sea of words that these people say, Corrupting the pleasant thoughts of young minds. Prejudiced beliefs linger like rainclouds, Raining on opinions of you and I, Cries of hate ring through my ears from these crowds, Almost like thunder's constructed war cry. Does the phrase, ''love thy neighbour'' mean nothing, To those faces that roam across this earth, It could be a compromise or something, For, If we learned love, it would bring rebirth. Jealousy will dominate in our heart, Until we learn to love, or at least start.
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Mar 25, 2012
Mar 25, 2012 at 5:19 PM UTC
Love Thy Neighbour
She walked. While I shuffled my feet and stared at the ground. Lights. Dancing around her in neon moonlit sound. Grey rainclouds, they hummed a mournful tune But I kept walking, and I tried to make a little room. She turned, and the sun crept out and gave a little grin. He smiled, awed at the sight in front of him but, I mustered up, and sent her a slight return And with a wave, she kissed away my concern- Now we're walking. I can't speak a word. The shy duck with the beautiful red bird, We flew off; And soared high in the sky- The sun had set, slightly reflected while I'm... Bold as Love. We're all... Bold as Love. And I'm Bold as Love. Just ask the Axis.
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May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 10:29 AM UTC
Bold as Love
ash in rainclouds dripping air lilac perfume in her hair clipped on limestone as a marker parades of silence growing darker in such delicate hours when u breathe in whispers         and morninglit frosts your ponytail neck and         hibiscus flowers spill your time in glassine fingers drowning moments                        as nothing lingers
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Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 9:19 PM UTC
ocelot
Where is it that you find your wonder? 'neath the rainclouds with pitchfork collecting lightning, in thunder? ******* is king, Ecstasy queen. Phet is my thing with morning caffeine. Six days and five nights, the things that I've seen. The rabbits and spiders in the *** noodle canteen. Where is it that you find your wonder? 'neath the sun with secateurs collecting the fruits of agriculture. Health is king, love is queen. In this new life, sober this spring. Poetry by Kaydee.
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Jan 18, 2021
Jan 18, 2021 at 4:40 PM UTC
Druqs
I continue waiting for the storm to end Your raindrops to stop falling down I think I must be fooling myself Every time you let me drown
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May 26, 2021
May 26, 2021 at 2:19 AM UTC
Rainclouds
(other states of living) under nyc rainclouds fermenting for centuries in the ether machine gazing across the width of an August interlude to a clearing amongst the ashes in the furnaces of destiny when the dust of time settles onto our outstretched hands I will walk past the way of all weariness and into your splintered eyes until the path becomes clear and i am reborn a motherless child of stellar regions
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Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 12:04 AM UTC
stellar regions (1967)
Though the sun is shining bright Dark rainclouds hang in my mind Thick drops fall onto my heart Making it harder to see out of the dark.
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Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 2:01 PM UTC
Rainclouds
"The last time I broke someone's heart" It was stupid; It was staring at the night sky Covered with rainclouds and lightning Patiently waiting for a falling star Despite the chaos we were in It was reckless; It was breaking the traffic rules Heedlessly beating the red light It was choosing to drive forward Even when I knew it wasn't right It was foolish; It was picking up fragments of glass Trying to mend what couldn't last It was getting my hands scarred by trying to grasp What I know I couldn't have But in the end, it was selfish; It was choosing happiness over pain Because the last time I broke my heart Was when I chose to never let anyone break me again
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Nov 9, 2017
Nov 9, 2017 at 12:05 PM UTC
The Last Time I Broke Someone's Heart
She used to speak in shades of green… Earthly, with undertones of gravel and dust. She liked it that way, Where she could feel the swell of dirt inside her, Taste the grass, pick sand from her teeth… Tangled midnight hair hung in transient neglect Down the arch and curve of shoulder and back, Finally coming to end with a whispered reminder Of its existence against the edges of her innocence... And, once her innocence was lost (as all innocence must be, time and again) She realized a certain freedom in heart and rainclouds In claiming her Oz, in following her own golden hued path. She lay in reckless splendour among the sun ripened poppies, dreaming Of ***** and fingers tracing her adjectives and verbs Sinking into her nouns with plunging clarity... Home, she writes...is not a place to sleep, Or a place to lay my head And find wishes in dandelion seeds Home is in my soul, Buried deep in some forgotten place Between slumber and sunrise Where my hands grasp at golds and reds, Gathering colours like wildflowers So that I may inhale their scent, Exhaling more than just green But a wanderlust, in an effort to find The dark silhouette of you... A fold of parchment and a gust Of tepid wind She seals her fate. She no longer contemplates A three time click To send her back the way she came Instead she longs for Emerald, And moves in pace, with the desires Of every where, any where This brick road Will take her...
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Sep 4, 2012
Sep 4, 2012 at 4:39 PM UTC
Shades of Oz :
Become a Mass of Light and Shadow, colors and grey let me sleep there in it, let me lose my form Lie on the ground like you have a choice like you might have stood otherwise Like you are strong enough to carry the weight of the sky On your shoulders there, slender, imperfect when in reality a breath of wind would fell you easily a slender beast before rainclouds
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Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 11:53 AM UTC
Slender Beast Before Rainclouds
Goodbye to the past I watch your hands waving While my heart's ship sails safely Across the big wide blue Goodbye pouting rainclouds I watch you cry somberly for me Good bye little shadows I cannot stick around A glistening sun comes To say Hello
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Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 4:01 PM UTC
Goodbyes
even the gulmohur looks confused --"where is the sun?", it seems to ask the dark rainclouds as it sways distractedly outside my window, its orange flames flickering rhythmically, engaged in a waltz with the falling rain. the bamboo --wiser, greener, stands unperturbed barely reacting as the water rolls off its leanness nothing seems to surprise its experienced being - Vijayalakshmi Harish 06.03.2013 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 6:48 AM UTC
March Showers
staying the night up high in rainclouds & I feel safe now when I look down the wide world is so small. we are all tiny specimen divinely dissected subdivided into lively sections by wants by fires by greed by needs & secret desires; one nation under god’s feet tired slaves perspire unnecessarily for possession & obsess over what they each acquire. it is you, it is I, and we are frighteningly alike. my attention’s quite untidy all the time my mind gets redirected it walks like hell & talks like heaven. I am not well I never have been. but this hex is a blessing, it’s too **** precious. we are spilling into the ocean over the edges. The Land is dead and has been, days now. I find it kinda pleasant & I wonder if they’ll ever get around to disinfecting the nest of decaying flesh, before it infests the rest, y’know, the ones that got left. rot is a pox spread by proxy & is not bonded by neither lock nor key; that’s like, **** what you got **** what you be **** what you thought what you think what you see.’ **** you, **** me, **** everyone, **** everything. it’s lovely, it’s lovely. I even think it’s kinda funny, I laugh at nothing. Oh, the irony
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Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 7:05 PM UTC
Weather Control
The rain clouds form just above my head Waiting, listening, praying that the sky opens I want the world to cry like I have I want the world to know that I have given everything It is a painful moment realizing you are alone Disconnected from everything and anything you love Phones, webcams, letters make no difference You need to feel the warm embrace of your lover You long for the moment when you see your dog smiling I feel these things and yet I feel nothing There is a sickness growing in me Like it has been fertilized and watered daily I want these feelings to stop I don’t want to be a million miles from what I love I have no options, I must wait Being alone has caused only problems Problems that I want to be done with Being alone made me love drugs Drugs aren’t people They aren’t capable of hurting you Unless you want to quit Then drugs take every sad thing you’ve told them Every tear you’ve cried to them And use it against you Remember when you were on drugs? You were happy, you were carefree Just come back I can’t go back to that life But in reality I’m still living it. I can’t get those thoughts out of my head I can’t become the person i was because I’m broken The rainclouds stay above my head Looking like they are going to burst and rinse me of my fears Alas, they just pass over and leave me to cry alone for years
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Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 3:55 AM UTC
Rain
when you’re in my arms, thunder roars and the ground shakes, rainclouds pour and waves crash because mother nature is jealous that such a beautiful creature is not hers
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Jun 21, 2019
Jun 21, 2019 at 3:44 AM UTC
jealousy
The morning sun inaudibly arising, Yo-yo weather, blue skies and rainclouds, The familiar view of the long awaited landscape, evoking memories of many a week spent here before, The warm feeling of - ‘home’ Shadows cast by clouds hovering eerily above a ‘witch’s house’, high on a mountain top, Two hundred foot drops and winding peaks, Dancing streams and wide lakes, the deepest shade of blue Pedestrian cows crossing a motorway bridge, The timelessness of the ever nearing estuary, lying in wait, Our second home – the tin house with two doors, Our place of wild strawberries and happiness and peace. The estuary sand and the shallow-deep waters, as inviting as ever, gleaming as I walk on by, The delicate beauty of fresh scented flowers, on a fine summer’s day, Endless winding roads, following the sun trail, leading to a place far away, Sheep on the beach, curious and shorn as the evening sun fades peacefully and the serein falls, Evening serenity and the swell of the incoming tide, The mystery of the island in the distance, far, far away. Blankets and dreamscapes and tea in brown mugs, And dinner cooked on an open fire, The lights shining in Portmerion at night, The noceur of the night sky, the silver-white orb, dancing gracefully amongst the stars.
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Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 8:39 AM UTC
Today I Have Seen
There is a place where the birds go When the air grows heavy And it is not South It is here that I will find you When the dust has settled You say you want to sing my bones electric You want to whistle from the rafters of rainclouds Become the weight of the rain The kind that only comes After the locusts have gone And we are all waiting for something new To keep us inside This century was the moment In your late-night lunch break When you got so close to the end of your cigarette That you wish you’d left the filter on We are one race with seven billion shotguns signaling GO Still we spin Like tornadoes in plastic bottles Cursing hands and the landfills we all fall into Eventually We might stumble into sanity And mistake it for a honeybee sting Resurrection Is breaking past the parasitic anchors In your skin Propaganda over-fishing Sinking 5th dimension realities Into yesterday’s tomorrow I will dig you out of this town until my fingernails are black from trying to touch every color at once Hold me steady like September The birds do not need compasses But I do You asked to leave the lights on That night on the forest floor The canopy rising and falling in the rhythmic breath of night Tracing a circuit on the inside of my spine The curve that proves that We do not belong in boxes With straight edges Learning to breathe does not become easier the second time around Catch my breath in a butterfly net Send it back priority In some other city You spend the night with my footsteps I spend the night folding swans out of your conscience Jimeny-cricket style There is a place where the birds go When the air grows heavy And it is not South It is here that I will find you When restlessness tempts you to fade See you in my sleep See you breathlessly awake And shaking at the pearly gates Because excuses were the birds That flew from your chest when you put regret to rest
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Jan 27, 2012
Jan 27, 2012 at 6:44 PM UTC
The Avian Death March
There is a place where the birds go When the air grows heavy And it is not South It is here that I will find you When the dust has settled You say you want to sing my bones electric You want to whistle from the rafters of rainclouds Become the weight of the rain The kind that only comes After the locusts have gone And we are all waiting for something new To keep us inside This century was the moment In your late-night lunch break When you got so close to the end of your cigarette That you wish you’d left the filter on We are one race with seven billion shotguns signaling GO Still we spin Like tornadoes in plastic bottles Cursing hands and the landfills we all fall into Eventually We might stumble into sanity And mistake it for a honeybee sting Resurrection Is breaking past the parasitic anchors In your skin Propaganda over-fishing Sinking 5th dimension realities Into yesterday’s tomorrow I will dig you out of this town until my fingernails are black from trying to touch every color at once Hold me steady like September The birds do not need compasses But I do You asked to leave the lights on That night on the forest floor The canopy rising and falling in the rhythmic breath of night Tracing a circuit on the inside of my spine The curve that proves that We do not belong in boxes With straight edges Learning to breathe does not become easier the second time around Catch my breath in a butterfly net Send it back priority In some other city You spend the night with my footsteps I spend the night folding swans out of your conscience Jimeny-cricket style There is a place where the birds go When the air grows heavy And it is not South It is here that I will find you When restlessness tempts you to fade See you in my sleep See you breathlessly awake And shaking at the pearly gates Because excuses were the birds That flew from your chest when you put regret to rest
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*I don’t remember ever seeing so much rain in California. The great city of Los Angeles translates to the city of angels. You can count the number of rainy days a year on two hands so when I see so much water cut through the clouds I can’t help but feel the tears of angels falling on my skin. Recently my brain has been spinning in circles. A needle scratching the surface to the melody of someone else’s face. A phonograph that hasn’t turned on since the hopeless drunken nights of butterflies trying to flutter through waterfalls. Since then my heart has been handy with the backs of a No. 2 pencils. Erasing the memory of where this player’s off switch went. I’m left with a familiar loop that feels like fine fleece cue tips warming the inside of my ears, wiping the very dust off my soul. I'm taking the wheel of a mind and driving my madness to rainclouds. Raindrops of today filling the warm puddles of nostalgia for me to splash in once again.   So don’t ask me how old I am today since my stomach is tied in boy scouts knots as I think of the cocoa-colored eyes of my boy scout’s crush. Dancing under the tears of angels with butterflies dancing back. Being smart is a skill I’m good at, but being foolish is a faculty I’ve mastered. So I dance one step forward and two step back, laughing while slipping off the nostalgia. Falling down on butterflies that have grown strong enough to pick me back up. You can call me crazy, but the rainclouds above me never seem to last.*
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Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 6:51 PM UTC
California Rain
*I don’t remember ever seeing so much rain in California. The great city of Los Angeles translates to the city of angels. You can count the number of rainy days a year on two hands so when I see so much water cut through the clouds I can’t help but feel the tears of angels falling on my skin. Recently my brain has been spinning in circles. A needle scratching the surface to the melody of someone else’s face. A phonograph that hasn’t turned on since the hopeless drunken nights of butterflies trying to flutter through waterfalls. Since then my heart has been handy with the backs of a No. 2 pencils. Erasing the memory of where this player’s off switch went. I’m left with a familiar loop that feels like fine fleece cue tips warming the inside of my ears, wiping the very dust off my soul. I'm taking the wheel of a mind and driving my madness to rainclouds. Raindrops of today filling the warm puddles of nostalgia for me to splash in once again.   So don’t ask me how old I am today since my stomach is tied in boy scouts knots as I think of the cocoa-colored eyes of my boy scout’s crush. Dancing under the tears of angels with butterflies dancing back. Being smart is a skill I’m good at, but being foolish is a faculty I’ve mastered. So I dance one step forward and two step back, laughing while slipping off the nostalgia. Falling down on butterflies that have grown strong enough to pick me back up. You can call me crazy, but the rainclouds above me never seem to last.*
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