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HRTsOnFyR Aug 2015
Life is like a thousand
piece jigsaw puzzle
opened up on Christmas morning,
Laid out on
the formica top kitchen table.
All you see
is a sea of colors,
endless and random...
An unsurmontable feat before you.
Suddenly it happens...
You find two matching shapes,
then a third,
And before you know it
A corner piece...
The edges becoming more obvious.
A picture begins
forming in your mind's eye...
Confusion becomes creation
Labor's sweet reward finally realized.
T Zanahary Aug 2012
We sit in silence,
backs crooked,
the couches' cushions caving in.
The weight of passing hours
and minuettes alleviating thinking
in a miscellaneous metronome
ticking to bring time to a heaving chest.

Stay calm,
the pain of realignment will pass.
Burdensome they may be,
burgeoning wings will free you of...

Pressure collapsing this cage,
walls torn from studs,
leaving only this skeleton
surrounding us as we find delirium
the backbone of convulsing lungs watched,
earthquake mute laughter marring the faces
with jagged faults.
The cost of cracking,
we must accept the scarring permanent.
Breaks unplanned infirmities,
alone, our time line disrupted itself
and the heavens came,
tumbling down.

In silence,
we lay, arms barring
our escaping words.
Eyes overstep boundaries,
slipping through the gaps,
a second moment of
clarification fractures restraints
whilst beguiling brainstorms
sparked our interest.
Our tongues meet,
shyly.

rubies placed upon your breath
slipping against molded clay.
In sapphires
you and I hold nighttime
reflections of passion
contained in coal, waiting.
Ivory runs my length,
bending to ecstasy, breathing
shallow, asynchronous, failing
to find it's end in persistence.

In night
the danger dropped us, longing
that dusty light beaming down on
the show, Act 2 is
the comedy. Off.

Parallel parabola line diamond reflections,
allow for recall with brushed fingertips,
horse hair undertones realigning smiles,
abstract the paintings of today,
of yesterday, stealing away tomorrow
in a previous reiteration of our variant
indifference.

The wings of the demon opened
in symbolic solace, fell far
across this burning emotional
harbor, aflame
in angels' suicides.
We've fallen, taken knees to grace,
whispering eulogies the waves applaud.
Sands wash away to cupped stone
palms, caressing the troubled banks lost
in time. The blood washes away,
momentary marks, brown,
stained, it passes.

Demons foreshadow.
In their shade we are seen
falling into broken arms, sinew
stitched through hearts, still healing
strength gives way.

Our tongues meet
shyly,
this reunion a mistake,
now locked, staying stilled while
attempting apologetic phrasing.
We sit in silence,
backs crooked,
blank walls and barren recounts
crashing in.
In my mind what determines
how I write these rhymes
in little time constructing lines
that pierce through your eyes into your soul
some would say I'm in my prime
cause My words are worth gold and
I don't believe in crimes
The world is so cold you can
buy a man with dollar signs
We live in a generation
where a beautiful woman is belittled to a dime
But is more valuable to a mankind
than gold and diamonds.

Now
Realize we're due
for Realignment, Reassignment
by our masters in hiding
while I'm typing in the silence
I hear the riots of the people
protesting and fighting
shaking the earth like
thunder and lightning.

****** sirens!

This Television programming
has numbed us to violence.
Yet won't broadcast the riots
or give us the real science.
Anyone acting defiant
blowing a whistle is swiftly silenced.
We must all stand firm like a hydrant
and face our current tyrants
or
take no action at all
and be fed to starving Lions.

©2013
Thoughts below please.
Julian Sep 2020
DISCLAIMER: READ THE WHOLE THING IT IS MUCH MORE GENIUS TOWARDS THE END



Bypass the circumlocutions of elementary rhetoric and the obvious bulges into the ethereal realm of supersolid supercalendar emigrations of the wednongues of vogue emigrating into a new frontier of boundless awakening that blisters the sore solid metaphors of a crumbled bricolage of articulate history becoming a reiterative gabble of entropy that curdles the blood-boiling hatred of those envious of those that capitalize on the true girth rather than the flaccid otiose etymology of differential physics becoming a denatured figment of prideful imagination on a frolic with desuetude in the normalization of the wernaggles of ewnastique that defile the ridicule of even the most astute aspirations of those that despise history rather than reveling in its subtle ironies that swelter in connotation rather than suborn the cadged bridewells of those that are estranged by the Dousk Remix rather than the Voulez-Vouz Danser populism of true urbacity expanded upon a national stage as an anthem not for profligate saturnalia but rather an ode to the odium of the reckless titanism of titanic intellects clashing with the dudgeons of intermittent eye-rolling irreverence double-dealing a stacked deck of pleckigger on an intellectual stagecraft for bandwagon apostasy that leads to solidarity among tentative allegiance. We barnstorm for a grift in the grimace of an alpenglow winter to lead to the salvation of all people united under the banner of neat nexility rather than long-winded elocution reserved only for notched caliber against the nativist diatribe that serves the subservience of the engineer of the white chattel indoctrinated into turnstiles of professed irreverence for demarches of solidarity that is gainsay for gain rather than pittances for pitfall. Rhetoric should be duly curtailed against the overcomplication of hypertrophy and trimmed into the sweet success not of saccharine fads of foofaraw but engineered resistance that galvanizes albatross intellectualism into a revved engine without purpose that mobilizes because of estranged impotence in the revelry of the subtle rather than the cordial tethers of emergent entelechy of the esemplastic orthobiosis that we should all strive for not just as pioneers of the socially engineered harbingers of a remedial society but also for the trendsetters that communicate with the canvass and the celluloid rather than spelunking dormitage of drifted anomaly perceptible to everyone but heralded as prominent by the rigged ambeer of a toxicity of a plumage of city over state and country over planet. We need to provide the verdure of the verdant forest that survives the conflagrations of rage indoctrinated by systematic attempts at stilted ignorance that is engendered more by Leftism than Right-Wing thinkers because in general when observed in organic settings we notice that the Right-Wing escapes the sloganeered jaundice of limited bounds for otherwise boundless thought and provides more seminal pathways that reconcile normative virtues with entrenched inveterate harbingers of economic success. The faulty deadstocks that propel the retinoise of the anomaly among Leftism to disregard the girouettism of a world that is so piebald with dishonesty that it elects a patronage that seethes with passion but aimless in its curiosity for deeper embedded candor because the popular might count themselves among the aristocratic Left but the truly Promethean belong to a centrist tribe that borrows the ingenuity of spurned but never spurious interpretations of a sputtered history that remarks with revelry  rather than disdains with #CancelCulture irreverence that seeks to deracinate all context for insipid utopianism that is a shared prerogative of the delusional Left against their complaints of Sebastomania among right-wing zealots that are equally invalidated by the frogmarch of a dilettante history curbed in storms of a pure tempest rather than a banal reiteration of novelty phrased with participant intonation rather than blathers of whispered arbitrage ennobled by hypocrisy immune to criticism among those that crusade for economic justice without understanding formal flombricks of the true gnomic riddles of alchemy fundamental to global panoramic pleonasms becoming the aleatory vagary of admonished warning that spars against spartanism. Instead of pilfering from the exorbitant defalcation of immunized partisan bromides against the ratcheted warranty upon defective obsolescence we must coalesce around the imperious ****** of divinity bequeathing the living water of a fully-lived life that qualifies its felicity not by junctures but by an overall harmony that conforms to the finicky demands of an overly polarized complexion of dimpled conformity founded on girouettism that earns more traction than the deasil sundial emergence of brimstone rejection for alabaster limelight we must urge others to ditch the conformist utilitarian usucaption of the usufruct of manipulative sports for domineering talents suborned into inclement straits because of unwitting albatross that replicates into a fission of uniformity encapsulated in the half-assed witticisms of attempted belletrist succeeding only in alienating the noxious fumes of alveolate diminutive reduction rather than expansive detritus that scrapes the wreckage of a turmoil to build masterworks out of broken sculptures themselves indemnified from a categorical judgment by the panoramic oversight of proctored civilized ambition. We need to exhort self-education that hinges upon not a listless acquiescence to a second-exit impulsive barnacle to the urchins of brimstone because of an insipid blather of flapdoons of brittle banality because the hackencrude is an outmoded entity to the vast resources of the sizable capital of the growing power of the intelligentsia over the weakened grasp and wrangle of terminus meeting consuetude weakly enough with pleasantry to appease but ultimately a complete witwanton persiflage of sizzled destruction rather than the savory contemplation of the cotqueans of majesty derided but never derailed by terminal revivals because the generativity of the titanic original might not be a popular indoctrination but the liberated thought of the untethered is ultimately more decisive in world affairs than the synergistic hive of bees building an imperious defense against dynasty built only upon provincial hatred of hidebound illiteracy combustible into the brazen bravado of a reckless intrepid effrontery against civilized chains into the ******* of complicit interconnection rather than dissolved dissolutions that solve global problems more fundamentally rather than driving through avenues of wide pressures gilded with expansive growth but ultimately bereaved by the ultimate succor of the youthful exuberance of captive audiences rather than the wily connivance of genius unbounded. God is obviously a benevolent provider of all bounties and despite the conspiracies that predicate heterodoxy the uniform mannequin of a mascot Democracy ultimately becomes a fickle bandwagon allegiance to relationship rather than a true witness to authentic ******* to a subservient relationship to a creative God synergized with energies that should exceed all galloped windlass into demarche and expose rather than rundles of ridicule interminable because of the permanence of kitsch memorial rather than living sculpture that breathes a swiveled light that beckons preened self-accountable responsibility to a dutiful matriotic duty of optimism rather than a contrarian futility of those that despise the unequal suave crackjaw dementia of the temulentia of derangement among crowds that provide fewer bounties and more deprivations calculated to indenture need rather than motivate want. We must motivate want by fueling ambition rather than quelling dissent in defensive posture because that strategy of antinomian discord is a dead-end street against an inveterate enmity that can never be fully deposed but only opposed with nominal futility raging with violence rather than seething with the motivation to reform because reform is an efficacy mobilized. Novelty of wednongue propriety grown through the heirs of drastic impertinence gilded from the siphon of lavadero hypogeiody blasphemous in bletonism that guards a piebald scrivelo because the sought dementia of an overwrought alacrity is a purpose without a terminus but an ambition soaring through scraped ice cream stratosphere that marvels at the minutiae of the civilized anthill that becomes a beehive of industry when the rationale of moral reform becomes insuperable rather than suborned into effete recursive cycles of pittances of pitfalls obsessively pondered but never solved because the fustilugianation of a forever tampered travesty is the esemplastic rejection of a categorical aim that leans of windlasses of elegance that surpass the levy of hatred and achieve sizable filagersion to squirm above the squawk upon populace rather than the consternation of an urbane but cloistered metropolitan arrogance contravened by the historical emergence of happenstance locales fostering the most well-guarded treasures of bohemian pedigree rather than dimpled resolve faffling on ergasia in bromidrosis rather than cavorting with a skeptical indoctrination by default evaded by those that equate an improbable scenario with a definitive solution to acatalepsy quandary because by reckoning with indeterminacy we grow in historical lineaments and solve global detritus by recycling the rattled brevity of promontory preens of plumage into a recursive ostentation defalcating heavily from sturdy macroeconomic proofs of the trendsetter rather than the trend and therefore grapple with profound personalized disdain rather than cordial harmony. Essentially by the logical positivism of proof we remind ourselves that obviously a chattering blather swims in tentative irony as long as it is a penultimate relativity because the lack of capstone ensures that the relevant treads beneath the mountain of rapprochement in benign endeavors to survive and thrive in definitive conclusion rather than intermediary conclusions of amnesia in jaundice. By the gnomic apothegms that guard the fortress of the demassified we have quantulated that the preposition of continuance is in fact a guarantee of the fickle supremacy of the recent and even more preponderantly the supremacy of expectancy of latent junctures that never manifest becoming a dictatorial rule of driven alacrity of wastrels that should fast from conclusive opinion and rather favor the primordial fabric of the inveterate truths rounded by the conversion of alchemy solidified by calculated canon converging with esoteric apartheid against the simultagnosia of the simpleton drivel of primordial myths bowdlerized from history neither lewd nor depraved but moribund because of the conclusive ****** of a peremptory intermediary certainty predicating a more precise foresight. The lackluster luster of numinous foghorn subliminal graft is a nativist confusion of legionnaire mettle swaddled by the cosseted grasp of interminable boundaries that demarcate linear time even when supersolid filigrees of elemental confusion erratically swerve into oblivion that becomes a forestalled happenstance so hapless that the connivance of alveolate synergies necessarily precludes event from becoming indelible because the tentative judgment wallops the tributary incontinence of the warble of axiolative jaundice materialized by crystalline fabrication neutered by soundbyte sclerotic calculus inveterate in summations of conclusion only because of peremptory weights upon geometric certainties rather than logarithmic dampers of attenuation that spar against spartan priggish epithets upon the flamboyant grit of grisly specter of speculative sepulchral venal vanity. The timberlask cineaste irony of the partisan usucaption of sapwood is a pirated timber of startled alarm becoming a useful or useless cacophony of barnstorm for the deadstock of past cadasters of rigmarole in the docimasy of pretense in impartial circumstance in specialized oratory bounded by a hemmed bailiwick of verdure denatured by the flombricks of subtle persuasion that ignores minority fringes of opinion that occupy that majority that cowcatchers brush aside rather with cruel contemptuous unkempt slippery agenda for drivel that spawns ingeminated redoubled explosions in participle bias rather than conglomerate arraignment of arrayed brooked swamps turgid not with the pettier travesty but the charade of a brokered ceremonial calculation against the wrikpond spurious by degeneration into corruptible complicity that thrives in obscurantism but never obscurity when the omnified owns a capitalized swiftboat of never a temulentia but always an optimism in the curvature of lineaments into the self-educated shepherd of the ultimate autarky rather than insubordination in the scrappy schlep of demographic ripples of swift enrichment at great personal flops in the floppy disk of a Democratic enrichment rather than a parched rectiserial hidebound tome. A quirky time stanched by tomes of patricide against family ingratiated by parrots to anthem but lacking the lettered verve of ignoble but parsed parsecs of finite light captivated into prismatic conscience we launch the demerited ploys of foible into the heralded controversy rather than the unheralded mercenary hands behind dogmatic ripostes livid because of the suave prestidigitation of the sublime mastery of the syncopated irony of mismatch attuned to radical rhythm we become bloated slaves to a rich lineage decried widely in attempts of covert coup raxes of a largesse of continual primipara perversions of courted cotqueans of uxorious justice that by defalcating from tributary orthobiosis in specious conjecture esteemed by rattled martexts aspiring for fraternal solidarity with the ****** esteem masquerading as the auctioned flivver that the merchandise of fluminous optimism cannot be an effusive blanch of blarney bolstered by bumptious bromides of brunt blackmail but rather the artform of subterfuge needs the insidious and invidious traction of creepy Thriller subtlety to garner the vapid traction of immobilized discontent foster to malcontent rarely abridged by even the most polite courtesy of diplomacy because of inherently insatiable demand that it skulks in undetected quarters flexing in the shadowy penumbra of transparent crackjaw enigma becoming an obvious blister or a gabble of raw jaundice sweltering into thermolysis by the eventual convergence rather than the improbable divergence of fissile time beckoning its own flashy revolution while denaturing the very presence of delusion as a herald more of the authenticity of animadversion rather than the sclerotic carapace of ragged asphyxiation in the aplomb whisper entombed forever by milquetoast inefficacy in hypersensitivity rather than a flourished malfeasance of a predatory grip upon seizure among catatonic graves of incontinence braving tribulation for crucibles of the most prosodemic surgeries of the furtive froward recalcitrance of deliberation in ignominy that enables that transmogrified skyscraper of Titanic lies to become a sunken vessel of harbored prestige lost on penultimate dice rather than winning pokerish villiany. Essentially the jeer of Morel Under a Disco is a winning brandished authority to chug the capers of inscrutable difference in blandishment imposture to cavort with an elegant plot twist that enthralls abiding decay to revert into a primordial confidence of livelihood to deter the frogmarch of time into the despairing quagmires of a livid balkanization of a simultagnosia of ageotropic monoideism fomented on fervor that leads to the paralysis of privacy and the expedited furor of moribund depraved proclivity so that the offset of morale and rationale can outfit civilization to brave the tempests of cordial divisions cemented by courtesy in order to safeguard against the yeggs of paranoia seeking ultimately the craven caper of disillusioned subconsciously felt retraction of indelible deeds into evaporated constructs that vanish too quickly to spawn the vigor of a cadged and utilitarian expanse of reiterative generativity that sustains the spanned sapience of primordial alacrity to ensure that brevity in outlook becomes longevity in subsistence because without a logical positivism grounded in unshakable tenets of God the demoralization of the vast majority is ensured and entombed in aimless squalor that leads to sheepish temerity compounded by wistful latency in regretful regression rather than a spandex bluster of a bravado of obesity to weather the persnickety wednongues of perdurable badges of instinctual shame slandered into prima facie denatured transmogrified cultures seeking cosmogony out of ordinary bricolage because the eventful triage of the nimble eludes parochial sight while the vastly capable outfox and outpace with such frenetic verve that they fasten against accident and transcend against heterochrony in ridicule that the unseasonable but seminal sauce flavors better the partially indentured optimism of a curated matriotism better than it serves the obviously interminable cycle of listless demiurges of malcontent that fuel conflagration rather than reformation to their own remorseful peril. Thereby, it is obviously concluded that to micromanage a society you must exert the capacity of a selective magnetism obviously predicated on demassified capacities for oaths of gratitude to endear and endure in the humane heart for the majority that sway few but encounter many that they find proper scruple grounded on axiomatic God to sustain not a lifeless priggish inclination but a bounded felicity that is not a carapace of an indigenous and insidious decadence to the extent pursuits of happiness swelter among the marginalized majority bereaved in powerless squalor slave to temptation not to derelict fascination but to provide aim to aimlessness and predicate their worldviews not on Racial Identity Theory which postulates too many counterintuitive pessimisms that are essentially neutered fustilug predicates of a world that requires such drastic seismic reforms in societal dynamics that the earthquake capable of such a realignment would exceed a 10.5 on the Richter scale which is 32x more powerful than the biggest earthquake in recorded history that would be so catastrophic in its implicit implication of the pretense that the consummation of the theory achieves the traction necessary to jostle every crowd into alignment that the collateral damage would endanger the very integrity and vitality of the Republic itself while exerting a tremendous existential dread of radical permutation that enables many travesties that abnegate the prerogatives of a privileged society in search of a facetiously engineered impossible utopia that could only be achieved by a dictatorial authoritarianism working in concert with benumbed sloganeering to engineer pessimism and malcontent rather than nurture the fair-natured optimism of a society that flourishes because it assumes naturally that the universe conspires in the favor of prosperity. If any hint of casuistry is evident in these postulates I wouldn’t be surprised but for rhetorical sanctity it is necessary for a nation bereaved of national icons not to despise the captive imagination of tyrannical transparency but grow from the liberating and partially liberal parable of a life maximized in limber for romantic enthralled growth that heralds with due consideration the paragons of time with reverence rather than soundbyte enslavement of parochial interminable twinges of a newborn and widely shared collective guilt of a decisively antinomian and pessimistic view on the evolution of human societies beyond catchy kitsch verve nexilities of bravado mutilating thirsts for inclusive mandates that are Boa Constrictors prowling with serpentine vitriol to vastly over-represent extreme fringes to dissuade nuclear families in an overt ploy of depopulation because the truer pathway to liberation is one that feeds the hot hand in the casino and bets that the winners will always win by deregulating their ability to bet large sums because of a transcendent supersolid mastery of time that the march and demarche of a boundless prosperity gouged by the fair demands of egalitarianism enables the card counter to achieve such a decisive advantage that his indentured socially coerced eleemosynary inclination to feed the flock endures throughout all epochs because of the necessary and incumbent scruples of God-fearing men to distribute their winnings won by cheating time to conquer time itself.
Filomena Aug 2022
There are degrees of confinement,
And escape is not a crime.
But without a realignment,
I'm resigned to pantomime.
Psych ward poetry.
Set 3, poem 52.
The Dedpoet Jan 2016
Restless eyes,
The luminaries winking,
The night, as if were
The Moon's stage of solitude
Shines vast in the nocturnal glory,
Revealing silken flattery,
The gentle light caresses.

There is a connection
Of the luminal glow
To the eyes whose mind is
Trapped in a cavernous shadow
While fathoming uselessly
Unto the revolving clockwork
Of living,
Like a trance between
An unknown familiarity.

Thoughts carve out timelines
In jigsaw's grip,
The Moon is a portal
In deafening silence,
Faceless memories guided
By forgotten constellations and
One realises the depth of life
And the race of time,
And come sweet soul searching
In the needs of the spirit while
Trembling from regret.

The solitude is an ocean
Keeping one afloat in a
Suspended profile,
Crystalline clarity like a mirror
In polyhedrons,
So much reflection in restlessness.

And we can drown
In this ocean bathed in the Moon,
Like reliving or redoing
All the past making it so
Pure only our souls know
The life lived in another version.

When the thoughts calm
Into the the minds realignment,
The light becomes forgotten
And the nocturnally calm of the spirit
Flies to live another life;
All that remains is the solitude.
Desire Sep 2021
Who was he?
Was he a sinless man, perfectly divine,
with a human body, heart, soul, and mind?
Was he a son and brother, relative and friend,
who chose to live and die, to rise, and ascend?
Were miracles performed? Did he multiply fish and bread?
Could he really heal the sick? Did he really raise the dead?
Was he a teacher and preacher, or was it all pretend?
Was he really crowned with thorns, judged, and crucified before men?  
Did he die for sin and suffer severe sufferings?
Was he a prophet, priest, and servant King of kings?
Did the earth quake, and temple tear, after his puncturing?
Was his glory reclaimed, and his honor received?

At the Father’s right, did he take a rightful seat?
Were his works redemptive, revered, and rendered complete?
Did the Twelve die in vain? Or did they precisely proclaim?
Do archaeological findings further support or negate the frame?
Was forgiveness his to give - or life - to those who believe?
Were the first-century claims true and correct, or falsely conceived?
Did early churches around the world conclude similar creeds?
Were plenty prophecies fulfilled, or were they too inadequate to concede?

Tablets, tombs, and temples found.
Inscribed stones, scrolls, and ancient ground.  
Charts, maps, and timelines studied.
Cultures — clashed; religions — muddied.
Doctrines debated and theories changed.
Some-thousand-years have passed. Still, this question remains:  
Who was he?

I’ll admit with all honesty, I know not all his ways.
I’ve questions unanswered; I’ve actions untamed.
I’ve a heart that knows failure, brokenness, aches, and pain.
I've a life that requires repentance; realignment everyday.
Yet, where my knowledge ends - thats where sincere faith overtakes.
I’ve a lot more to learn, yet, I've experienced a lot more grace.
How would you answer the question if you were asked this today?
Who was he? Who is he? What would you say?

Unapologetically and unashamed,
with confidence and boldness running through my veins,
in all fairness, humility, and meekness,
he is my strength, when I'm at my weakest.
My heart believes in full, and then sings my soul:
my Lord, my Rock, my Savior, my God.
Thank you, King Jesus.
A Simillacrum Apr 2019
You swirl my mind
behind the shades.
Dreams come and go
to Mary Jane.
You stir my dreams
all of the day.

Then, when I warred,
nothing could stop
the storm there in store
for me.

My central column
is prone to shift.
You have acid spit,
and kiss me there,
between the atoms.
Realignment.

What is
a holy moment?
When you
share a gaze with one.

What is
a definite end?
When you
find the beginning.
Sam Temple Dec 2014
typecast hero looking for a way out
tired of rushing to the aid of others
so they can once again foolishly find themselves
in need of assistance and realignment
and so on and so on
the story drags
only the ******* fan stays behind
knowing, sweating with anticipation
carrying the understanding within
that patience pays off in the majority
and majorly in the winter months –
lackluster wedding bands
attempt to gleam bright
only to flatly express devotion
marred and grimy, old mechanic fingers twist
reality –
estranged housewives
estimate child care costs
lost in the embossed glow of ceramic vases
chastising lying children for learning to deceive
from the adulterous ***** in charge
angry red hair flying, free of bobby pins
and regular trips to the stylist
sends pointy fingers stabbing into the thick air
accusatory –
her guilt blinding the common folk
trying desperately to sew enough crop fodder
to survive another dire winter
and worst
the oncoming season of misinterpretation
Spring… once signifying rebirth and new life
representing now only more cleverly hidden
deceit
for it is only through the summer
that we may find ourselves again freezing
looking at the despair and desolation
winter always finds its way back –
brandon nagley Jun 2015
Mine incarnation streched like William Wallace of Scotland upon this old timber trunk, mine head is dunked in a *** of needing and haveth nots, for didst the world forget the gots?
Ripper's rip out thine gut's by spoons, the feeling of a balloon as thine heart's pricked by human needle.......

Scarab's and Beatles crawleth in dung, when they sucketh they sucketh hard from thy dud's and put thee in confinement wherein realignment is fully needed....    

Handcuffed to solitary hole!!!
This is just made up soo for anyone whothinks otherwise
brandon nagley Aug 2015
Though the upward blue is swarthy
I shalt get mine fill, on one day a queen and thrill;
She shalt tuck me in, her cosy confinement
Like the universe in etching, ourn spirit's realignment.

Bursting color's like snakes Rattler's
Tambourine music to flood the air;
A damsel on life's edge, loosing her head
Though me as her king, I shalt be there.

Walking hand to finger's
Gently nuzzle her with mine nose;
The word's " I loveth thee mine queen"
No if's, and's, or I suppose.

None interweb sensation
That just DIETH out;
A clap of hand's, from the crowd of band's
A strain of sand, ourn feet to route.

Her nape i shalt warmly bloweth on
To arouse her inner awareness;
Agreeing to be one unshunned
A village to be isolated, in ourn fairness.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
Seeking for a lover in this (: and good writing!! For noone .Inamorata means a female lover for you who ask lol
what a waste Aug 2017
I've idolized for some time now
the stone altars which lie numb
Countless sums found their way to zero
for no other reason than to become some hero
Maybe I'm just ******, but something tells me
I'd treat that **** like it's my do or die pillow
I can hear the beat of their drums
running a marathon towards my tomb
Help me help you
I bleed dumb, I bleed young
take me before the night comes

Lock me up and throw away the key
It's kind of ironic the way red compliments
the rocks only when the sun is hung highest
Death to the tyrants I will not be silenced
I'll constantly ***** this corrosive lifeblood
til it crashes 'cross the cosmos like some defiant comet
I do not need a realignment my mind is it's own climate
and I'll keep heading for the highlands
like I'm climbing for the brightest
Forgive me, I'm just farsighted and this here island
looks more like a diamond than confinement
In one solitary meaning,
Ever sinking, ever feeling,
Never fleeting in its seeming
To be deceiving ages old,
I watched it pass like clockwork
Crafting, remaining in its bulwark,
A bunker, sunken in its crafstwork,
As it lingered in the cold,
It yet, gracefully omnipresent,
Basked, entombed in its resentment,
Encased, steadfast in its amendment,
Its self-revel to be so bold,
A reminder of omniscience,
Displaced, now self sufficient,
The rock face here tells a mission,
Of a winter’s life it stole,
The chiseled, engraved markings,
Might to some be most alarming,
Yet the feature so disarming
Seems unfamiliar so close to home.
In its forgotten confinement
Does it seek a realignment,
Awaiting the assignment
The order to again roam.
In sedition and high-treason,
Must there once have been a reason,
That so frigid as this season,
Be repeated and retold.
At a loss for all neutrality
It forged a new reality
Sacrificing our morality,
And justifying why we’re sold.
Victoria Jasmine Oct 2014
You are the ocean
I can feel the love in waves with your breath
breathe deep, you cannot disagree
this is difficult for us, I know i'ts hard for me
I can feel your chest rise and fall when you are thinking, when your consciousness fades
up and down like our spirits, here and there like this rain
You are time and you stand still when it hurts
when I'm failed by words and my eyes avert
I want to open up and still feel strong
push on and push through it
my breath gets short when the silence is this long
we were wrong to ever agree to be less than this
to assume there's any force but love between us
You are joy, you are my boy.
I found you and the same day, I found bliss
You are the teacher who told me to find the comfort in the ignorance
Your assurance is insurance for everlasting happiness
there's a lot of comfort in a mattress on a floor
and maybe you're not quite home yet but you're always an open door
You are more
I wish I could find the words to tell you I want to find myself first
and when I can finally sing a song, know that you'll be the first verse
You are music, but will this be a whole note or a staccato burst?
I am the warmest when you defrost my ego,
You are the sun
I feel your warmth in a room full of people
You are a novel but I struggle to turn your pages
You are advancement but we move at different paces
in different shoes and separate sizes,
Same virtue and common views even some similar vices
You are words and I am realizing
You are the prizes well worth the prices
if we lose sight of the sky we've got years to find it
When you're a knot I'm here to untie it
You told me to breathe, let's start our realignment
pretty soon the sun will rise, and our eyes will adjust or we will be blinded
You are laughter and my world is righted
You are the poem I will always be writing
when it gets the darkest, you shine the brightest.
© Victoria Jasmine
Traveler Jan 2022
The frequency of my love
Is in the strokes of my heart
Beating in atonement
With my music and my art

Lifting ever higher
The vibration of my will
I have come to realignment
Where peace is all that’s real!
Cunning Linguist Apr 2023
Truly you once saw through me
Genuine and pure, as though our souls
danced through the spiraling moonbeams;
Entrancing dimensional transcendence

As our energies coalesced
There we were sitting in our tree.
But then the gemstones fell out of your eyes
& Like a stranger you gazed upon me

This undulating fortuitous futility
Beautifully brutal in its cruelty -
& Eating me alive as I grasp
toward mortal continuity

Begging for more of my former memories
Which I eschew in obscurity
to resurface and drown
All moral ambiguities

The relay I beg to make your systems restart
In unending and upending unity;
Erased upon awakening the slate avant-garde,
Fluently entombing this symbolical eulogy

-

Just clockwork these depths
From which I’ve risen and plunged
You’d shown me a meaning
I’ve never felt with anyone

With the utmost uplifting
& wholesome adour;
I long to embrace you
From this place I’ve sworn

Reality and dreams forever at war henceforth;
Your visage in the nether is my only warmth
Scorned at the form of us drifting apart
Continuing alone without a piece of my heart ~

I’ll pattern the sequences of events in my head
Imagining an alternate timeline which led
Our realignment that picks back up step instead
Once the power’s tripped and OS configs again

Do you think about me now and then
Will you think about me when the world ends?
Possibly grieve & mourn, pretend we’re still friends,
Both wished for forgiveness and made amends

In your arms I feel at home
But even in a crowd, I am alone
Reaping a graveyard of which I’ve sewn
Ever fonder so the absent heart grows
CharlesC Dec 2018
There are many journeys...  
There are journeys in which we as travelers observe
the world from conventional windows of body and mind.  
There is another journey which involves a recognition
that I Am much more than my old belief that my limited
body and mind is who I am.  Also.. to discover that my
belief in limitation is the root of my suffering and
longing.  The new journey belongs to the experience of
Non-Duality, in which are found to be two legs:  the
inward, and the outward.  The inward leg results in the
discovery of our Unlimited nature, and the outward leg
is a "return" to the world..beginning a life-long
realignment in our lives based on a joyful new
Understanding...
nico papayiannis Aug 2016
Life is not the place to be showing off with emotions,
The locked door of personal space where you kneel and where you pray
This is where you cry
Where you break apart

P   i   e   c   e     by    p   i   e    c   e

When your love does flow
Let nobody know
Hold it in
Hold it fast
Only inside
Will it last
And then release

P   i   e   c   e    by    p   i   e   c   e

Only a small bit of you may hurt
May suffer the severing

Solitary confinement
An emotional realignment
Detached
From illusions hatched
Taking with you
All you hold dear

So    p   i   e   c   e   by    p   i   e   c   e

You return
And the fire of your anger
Does no longer burn
Isaac Aug 2018
you live in an environment
that dictates your requirement
as well as your confinement
so make it your assignment
to be extra violent
in tending its refinement
giving it realignment
for it is compliant
Written 15 August 2018
FL Jun 2019
Realignment.
Did I ever stray from my path?
Is there really a greater plan?
One step forward, to step back
Two step backwards, right on track.
Love, I wish you all there is
As life takes you through the mist.
It’s ok. It really is. It’s ok.
CharlesC Jan 2019
There are many journeys...  
There are journeys in which we as travelers observe 
the world from conventional windows of body and mind.  
There is another journey which involves a recognition
that I Am much more than my old belief that my limited 
body and mind is who I am.  Also.. to discover that my 
belief in limitation is the root of my suffering and 
longing.  The new journey belongs to the experience of 
Non-Duality, in which are found to be two legs:  the 
inward, and the outward.  The inward leg results in the 
discovery of our Unlimited nature, and the outward leg 
is a "return" to the world..beginning a life-long 
realignment in our lives based on a joyful new 
Understanding...
CharlesC Apr 2019
There are many journeys...  
There are journeys in which we observe the
world from conventional windows of body and mind.  
There is another journey which involves recognition
that I Am much more than my old belief that my limited
body and mind is who I am.  Also.. to discover that my
belief in limitation is the root of my suffering and
longing.  The new journey, the Direct Path, belongs to
the experience of Non-Duality, in which are found to have
Two Legs:
the Inward, and the Outward.  The Inward Leg results
in the discovery of our Unlimited nature, and the Outward
is a "return" to the world..beginning a life-long
realignment in our lives based on a recognized
True Identity…
MissNeona May 2021
of the pen
of the keys
Always doing
what pleases

but my babe
should know by now
even tho we play
There's no teasing

making decisons
with each stroke
been sitting pretty
while you go broke

turns out - you left me
here from the start
and now when tables turn
you get to play your part

collecting keys
to the karma
released the hold
on the leash to the dogma

turns out good pups
know truth more than training
when the good boy runs away
To be left begging

i hope that dog
knows when it's free
and hasn't turned tail
when hot air breathes

the natural comes back
and pets still have power
sometimes there's reasons
that birds leave the tower

leadership failed
made too many mistakes
and now each and all
pump the breaks

Those in need
Have felt so far gone
the hardest workers
have the best brawn

I'm excited
to see the realignment
released from the cage
before the break of confinement

caged birds be singing
their souls remember the tune
to some it's shrill and piercing
the screeching has come so soon

let it go, let it drop away
it wasn't here to stay
you had it one way
now it's the day

It's been this way for so long
we were held down with sad songs
rippin brains out with the bongs
so the woes wouldn't have us in throngs

now it's time for us to live
we've given all we have to give
sand has all been put through sivs
I repeat, it's time for us to live.
John Prophet Dec 2022
Destiny.
Future.
Intelligence.
Morphing,
striving.
Struggling
pat­h.
Bubbling
from the
primordial.
Simple to
complex.
Searching,
growing.
Source
changing
evolving.
Biologi­cal
to
artificial.
Blending.
Techno Sapiens
emerge.
Source
irrelevant.
Intelligence
advancement.
Pree­minence.
Exponential
explosion.
All
that was
no more.
New paradigm.
Radical
realignment.
New way,
unfathomable.
Next direction
unknowable.
As constituted
unimaginable.
Strap in.
Hold on.
Eons
in the
making.
Now,
the games
afoot.
John Prophet Sep 2023
Arrival.
Soon.
World
on its
axis,
tilts.
Ever
so slightly
tilts.
Figuratively.
Stark
change
reshapes.
Eye
blink
re­volution.
Nowhere
to hide.
Artificial.
Absorbs
all.
Society
reshapes.
Odd
happenings.
­Rethinking.
Back and
forth energy
flows.
Generational
divergence.
New
cleaving
old.
New
dyna­mics.
New realms
materialize.
Unfathomable
realignment.
Civilization
as constructed.
Cracks.
Crumbling.
New paths.
New ways.
Past,
wayside
falls.
Future,
so unlike
the past.
Can’t be
imagined.
John Prophet Jan 31
Collision.
Future.
Whip
snap
change.
Expecting
more of
the same.
Fools
calculation.
Pace
speeding up.
Spinning up
alternative
paths.
Realities.
Civilization’s
realignment.
Unfo­reseen.
Gales
pummeling
direction.
Forcing
correction.
Knocking
o­ff course.
Collision
course
straight
ahead.
Technology.
Manipulating­
everything!
Acceleration.
Changes.
Light speed
changes.
Changes
in weeks
that once
took
years.
Most
unaware.
Unpredictable
future.
Crystal
ball­
gone
dark.
Universe Poems Sep 2021
Divine hour,
angels descend
Inspiration rhyme
Body and, soul,
definitely the right time
Awakening
Realignment
Shift back
Natural state intact
Permeable
Internal clock chime
Synchronicity
Universe velocity time

© 2021 Carol Natasha Diviney
John Prophet Sep 2020
Connection,
vibrations.
Waves of
vibrations,
energy
throughout
existence.
Consciousness.
Music as
consciousness.
Universal.
Vibrations
throughout.
Music
univers­al.
Organization,
conscious
realignment.
Waves of
energy
flowing
everywhere
throughout.
Music,
communication.
Or­ganized
energy.
Vibrations.
Waves.
Music
communication,
feedback.­
Feedback to
creation.
Music,
communication.
Mathematical
language
with everything.
Islands of
consciousness
communicating
with infinity.

— The End —