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"recompose" poems
Gaping voids attached at velvet hems reveal An oscillating, silky shrine of serpentine appeal A sacellum of spit where crimson vipers preach A sermon dispossessed of words on biting without teeth Two lithe reptilian wrestlers in acrobatic trance To recompose the primal theme from the procreating dance They sway in mirrored unison as heaven’s gates converge They lick their tongues in twisting prose and gustatory tones emerge In this bacchanal of senses where feelings taste of spoken sights The serpents molt beyond their essence onto a plane of new delights There they share a sounding vision muscles blink in harmony Hissing iridescent rhythms At last, the panting cyclopes reach the art of seeing eye to whispering eye through the instrument of speech.
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Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 5:29 AM UTC
Kissing
Cold sweats and shower heads leak into the seams of our worst fears and dreads, Momma didn't raise no fool, I'll be good as dead when they finally show Relapse, Relapse, Relapse I can feel it again, The existential dread, Crawling through my bones, out of my skin and into my head My best friend is my wall, I drink to numb the feeling, She don't love me, but she loves my mom Tonight we are leaving and we are never coming back the same way Relapse, Relapse, Relapse I've got a feeling, A feeling of the cold and hazy blue, I can feel you, I can feel you, I've been thinking too much of you Relax, Relax, Relax I'll keep hitting it, I'll keep taking it in, willingly, Because you asked me to Your love of the yellow rose, My cuts and the yellow thorns, I'm torn and you don't feel it, It's okay, I would never ask you to If I could go back, if I could change anything, I'd change the way you looked at me, Only heaven knows the way I look at you I've been dragging the lake for my friends, I'll never find any because they're all dead Relapse, Relax, Recompose, Rot, Decompose I've been thinking too much of you
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Oct 5, 2016
Oct 5, 2016 at 11:26 AM UTC
Adultery by Captain We're Sinking by Richie Vincent
Court of owls New ink, new shoes Clocks on, I'm about to run it Fast as my pain's Timeframe, bout to gun it I hope you feel something better my man, ***I'm feeling something I'm feeling something better than planned*** Tuck in the winter, dam i fall into action springing past Morty and summer While I'm watching TV slumber shaking off chains of reactions is it a new start call it innov8ing or maybe to our past Definistrating memories,  atoms alternating like the world sputters aspirating Spit split straight portals compensating I'm drunk on Dark matter ever oscillating the wind turned to me just so it could turn on me Judgment for eternity Experience is the same it howled with certainty MY Experience denied 3x so now you hear me? from this judgment I'm always ripping free I don't generate art so you can whip at me I might penetrate stars The universe is an artist so Why does it  ****** us Aint the universe ever even heard of us? I'm the passenger and still woozy the sickness feeling the pressure but I gotta be a witness compassionate, no judgment we all have our reasons ~Got a spot that I  keep w33d in Hidden with the green stem bleedin we may have different heavens but we come from the same soil When others decide our emotions Got so many reasons for defense, reach out and tipped it for the deflect emotions reflect the deficit of me breathe I just shake my head so heavy, I need rest Court of owls Port of vowels I am Born of miles So I adult when you consult the Occult knowings the lotion but still decomposin all this is music I just need to recompose it Saved another life Now the reaper owes it I think I've got amnesia, Waking up to Sir you had a seizure Eyes always look like Man...I wouldn't wanna be ya Empathy is another form of slavery we sign up for We live and we learn Boomerang on the mic I go and return But its not just about living well its about knowing the root of life its Taking the threads in your hands to rack the rains and crack the chains Caught in the dream, my ego forgets Sleep is such a shy death ***Court of owls Port of vowels I am Born of miles in the Korn of howls***
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May 4, 2022
May 4, 2022 at 12:33 AM UTC
~Quicq Hooqs~
Court of owls New ink, new shoes Clocks on, I'm about to run it Fast as my pain's Timeframe, bout to gun it I hope you feel something better my man, ***I'm feeling something I'm feeling something better than planned*** Tuck in the winter, dam i fall into action springing past Morty and summer While I'm watching TV slumber shaking off chains of reactions is it a new start call it innov8ing or maybe to our past Definistrating memories,  atoms alternating like the world sputters aspirating Spit split straight portals compensating I'm drunk on Dark matter ever oscillating the wind turned to me just so it could turn on me Judgment for eternity Experience is the same it howled with certainty MY Experience denied 3x so now you hear me? from this judgment I'm always ripping free I don't generate art so you can whip at me I might penetrate stars The universe is an artist so Why does it  ****** us Aint the universe ever even heard of us? I'm the passenger and still woozy the sickness feeling the pressure but I gotta be a witness compassionate, no judgment we all have our reasons ~Got a spot that I  keep w33d in Hidden with the green stem bleedin we may have different heavens but we come from the same soil When others decide our emotions Got so many reasons for defense, reach out and tipped it for the deflect emotions reflect the deficit of me breathe I just shake my head so heavy, I need rest Court of owls Port of vowels I am Born of miles So I adult when you consult the Occult knowings the lotion but still decomposin all this is music I just need to recompose it Saved another life Now the reaper owes it I think I've got amnesia, Waking up to Sir you had a seizure Eyes always look like Man...I wouldn't wanna be ya Empathy is another form of slavery we sign up for We live and we learn Boomerang on the mic I go and return But its not just about living well its about knowing the root of life its Taking the threads in your hands to rack the rains and crack the chains Caught in the dream, my ego forgets Sleep is such a shy death ***Court of owls Port of vowels I am Born of miles in the Korn of howls***
Continue reading...
75
A figment of fictition So persistent in perdition Little distant, Little hat trick Lay her down upon my mattress I spit hot glue whether or not I ought to It's never thought through, never bought new I never sought another off-tune Sound I'm perfectly happy with my own. And life's an acquired taste (bittersweet trainwreck) Just like a whiskey flavored sno-cone So just Relax. Take your bags off and lean back Discheveled chivalry, Burning bush, Uttered simile Muttered quickly In a sea of young blood and old trees Just try and make a meek response, recompose your shattered sconce Redirect it all deliberately with my newfound friend tenacity I report a list of casualties after a hurricane of history Recurring dreams are haunting me Face-to-face with Mephistopheles Which I ponder in all honesty. Should I fear the devil within, even if I don't believe in him or is it enough that he believes in me?
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Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 1:16 AM UTC
lil' rap.
Your tongue becomes a stretching of your head.It is, in fact, a lying tongue, which breaks the complex words, until they are transformed in simple sounds as the hours are decomposed into chaotic seconds to recompose a new hallucinating time.Our erratic thoughts anguish in ignorance and resignation.Our spaces seep into another common one. The light dances on our exhausted bodies all its shades of red.We love each other in our dream....
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Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 8:17 PM UTC
Chaotic seconds
would I could I have gotten you, but I have this: but I hold my downfall between bubbles, or between slurring fingertips; pressure loss, diffident indifference, bitter delirium, I wake through the marshes of all thoughts I call mine, but she, with quivering hands, pulls trumps and bares teeth and i, small creature i, decompose another fraction, break and bend and swallow no pride, tonight. so hallowed, these lives! like I lie, in-between awake or no such dream or the pursuit of impossibility: an appetite turning these wheels to drive us each home to each of our own tiny fallacious undestinies, where lined veins underhandedly tighten and leave, stumble or bleed; traces of the same want and amount of nothing. from lustgarden cradled in concrete i turn corners, i recompose, with eyes alight. i bare teeth, i wake and bleed, and still see. I still breathe.
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Feb 18, 2014
Feb 18, 2014 at 9:51 PM UTC
poison (in the kitchen)
Inner voices, Contradicting wants and desires, Screaming, Crying, Breaking apart, Then smiling, calming down, and recompose. A sickening yet relief feeling, That one is so split and divided inside, Holding on to a mysterious path, That is yet to be fully unfolded.
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May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 9:06 PM UTC
Holding on
Roo You bounced high and true, After the rain swept through. Each bounce made you stronger, Your stride leaped longer. No sound released, Just breeze from your feet As you showed us all How to recompose after a fall —
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Aug 31, 2025
Aug 31, 2025 at 4:19 PM UTC
Roo
This is our love ,we need to recompose its meaning with the passing of every second. Love is our poetry ,or poetry is our love. Do you need to be yourself? Do you need me? Maybe it's hell ,maybe it's heaven, Maybe it's both of them. Maybe it's getting zero. We should burn inside, but no ,we make it be our mad paradise. It's something you should know before touching me. You should know that love is only Divine.
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Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 2:48 PM UTC
Zero
I’m star-struck and stunned like a deer in the headlights. The seconds I’ve shunned; in the moments of twilight. As fear has proceeded; with words I believed in; A hug that we needed. We came to say goodbye. Shoulders turned away like a punch that I’ve taken. Tears like a cliché that cannot be mistaken. A hurt that’s not unknown; with time to recompose and time to spend alone. We came to say goodbye.
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Jan 11, 2019
Jan 11, 2019 at 3:33 AM UTC
Goodbye
Tick-tock the hands of the clock plock the pendulum swings to the immutable rhythm of hypnotic seconds measuring time, the soundtrack to the great oeuvre that is our life. An existence we perceive ephemeral, thus instinctively preparing suitcases since inception, on an earthly sphere we interpret merely as a vestibule, be it a pretty one awaiting to embark on a journey to a destination unknown, neatly folding experiences one by one, hiding mistakes between the nethermost layers, shameful feelings, regrettable deeds tucked under blankets of tears, loving sentiments nostalgically stowed as valuables in secret pockets where fears glow. Achievements meticulously placed in side- compartments for easy retrieval, references just in case, identity printed in capital letters on a stateless passport holding the blank ticket stretching ears to heed announcements, last call for immediate boarding, hopefully after blowing on candles times enough for departure to be tolerable, desirable. Yet the bell tolls every so often unexpectedly, rendering the baggage of a life time instantly redundant, while climbing the invisible ladder naked, slowly dissolving into the ether, a rapid transition between who we are, have been and will be once more, pure energy melting to recompose, metamorphosis in tune not with the pendulum but with the mute timeless cosmic flow encompassing all, the solemn moment the weight suspended from the pivot ceases to swing.
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Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 3:45 AM UTC
The pendulum
The fire laps, at my willing skin, as I wait for my ending, to begin, the heat it sears, and skin turns black, as I hope this time, I won't come back, but then water runs, along my arm, this was just another, pointless harm, yet I am glad, for harms distract, and I need time, to recompose my act.
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Jun 24, 2017
Jun 24, 2017 at 7:51 AM UTC
Fire
In those days when the sun lights the contours of the clouds that now and then let glimpse the sky, when my spirit does not know whether to follow the sadness of the shadows of the evening that slowly appear or the cheerfulness of the light that veiled filters, in those days I stand still to recompose distant echoes of small unforgotten unforgettable fragments of love. 26.12.’13
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Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
In those days
I found myself walking a route of euphoria following the trail of rapture tailing a sentiment that I had hoped would last forever then you hit me; a phantom vehicle from the blindspot of my life out of nowhere, a hit and run with no warning but for the quietude before the impending collision my body: flung far from favor, soaring for its own demise, falling on its own crown, turning into the earth arms swinging forth, grasping for something to recompose on not lying for want fingers between rocks and pebbles digging themselves into the dirt between, grabbling gravel and grave scratching back at the sharp pain as I scramble for balance my eyes, covered in blood and blur, are blinded by the truth refulgent overhead commands reflected by flat faces standing over me-- beside me? around me... they turn me 'round myself I lose my way as quickly as it was found breadth, precious as love, come back to me, hold me now deliver me from panic and restore my sanity from this collision of souls
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Nov 30, 2019
Nov 30, 2019 at 7:20 AM UTC
Breath