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"redundant" poems
I know I'm not as quiet as I could be when I should be. But thoughts are just perpetual graves dug over and over. That seems a bit redundant, but so is this thought.
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Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 4:31 PM UTC
thoughts for thoughts for thoughts
in complete melodies the frequencies i hear can not be contained by anything love is drifting through the hills and you are home to its trills she dreams of light, the fire bright and full of crystal skulls and eyeballs dozens of monuments are built just to mark the moments when we could have said i'm sorry merge with the mountains find the source of fountains shine the diamond compass if that's what you are really here for broken dams are our business feed the swans their luminescent lunch-boxes duck for cover, its a wonder that we are all together here that's clearly redundant the tendency to dream is the most important human faculty its a tragedy that the lack of nuclear power showers the atomic world in rainbows as forlorn teenagers in the ice-age of America govern our equipment from their parent's basements and carouse with comfort upon chairs, cushions and couches a million times the victory a million miles of rope to weave a million are the paths to god and a million more are the souls who've learned to cope with tragedy i come cherishing and bearing gifts figures of speech are my playthings i am furniture remodeled daily and intuitively placed around your home the finer things in life are free so see me there upon your television set i am electromagnetic static within the black and white of advertisements i am figures of forgotten speech so record the unwatched programs in your mind’s virtual memory the hard drive of work and play creates hundreds of new retirees each day hundreds of haunted expatriates knuckle-headed people that couldn't tread lightly even if they wanted to so will you please untie me and remove these binds and chains it's time to free the lover from the psyche for that is all she wrote i am a silent p i am a violet apogee i am a cosmic minority i am a message in your tea leaves but if you stand too long in my shoes you’ll likely drown in solitude
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Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 2:34 PM UTC
a violet apogee
in complete melodies the frequencies i hear can not be contained by anything love is drifting through the hills and you are home to its trills she dreams of light, the fire bright and full of crystal skulls and eyeballs dozens of monuments are built just to mark the moments when we could have said i'm sorry merge with the mountains find the source of fountains shine the diamond compass if that's what you are really here for broken dams are our business feed the swans their luminescent lunch-boxes duck for cover, its a wonder that we are all together here that's clearly redundant the tendency to dream is the most important human faculty its a tragedy that the lack of nuclear power showers the atomic world in rainbows as forlorn teenagers in the ice-age of America govern our equipment from their parent's basements and carouse with comfort upon chairs, cushions and couches a million times the victory a million miles of rope to weave a million are the paths to god and a million more are the souls who've learned to cope with tragedy i come cherishing and bearing gifts figures of speech are my playthings i am furniture remodeled daily and intuitively placed around your home the finer things in life are free so see me there upon your television set i am electromagnetic static within the black and white of advertisements i am figures of forgotten speech so record the unwatched programs in your mind’s virtual memory the hard drive of work and play creates hundreds of new retirees each day hundreds of haunted expatriates knuckle-headed people that couldn't tread lightly even if they wanted to so will you please untie me and remove these binds and chains it's time to free the lover from the psyche for that is all she wrote i am a silent p i am a violet apogee i am a cosmic minority i am a message in your tea leaves but if you stand too long in my shoes you’ll likely drown in solitude
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57
Constant, consistent, consuming Devoid of all control Relentless, redundant, ruining I must never reveal my soul For only I know How far I will go Can't let it show I've never felt so low
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Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 6:56 PM UTC
Jealousy
Resuscitate our dead memories only just to die again; Waking from a deep slumber, Staring out the window pane; Counting hours, how long can I endure the need to restrain?; Nothing have changed I should just get back to sleep again. The sun rises slowly as it burns my pale tainted skin; It just felt so good just to feel pain! For so long I've been so keen; I grew weak in my dreams when I'm asleep, the thoughts of you makes me sick! It's not that you vexes me, It's because of what I did to you that worries me; Never before I have felt so sensitive within this lifeless body... Lived only by drinking blood! To be confined in this coffin just to feel lonely! And then you came... The one I thought who restrained the beast in me; The one who gave warmth not burning me, calmed my soulless fury. But we must all know that the nature has its way of breaking; Something that is beautiful, Something profound! A new beginning... And so it came to that point where I fed on her! left her dying! Perhaps it was all meant to be for a while just to forget the craving... I'm a killer, a monster! An abomination to this world! But I can't take my life...Believe me I tried! I bathed under the sun turn to ashes and died! Only to know that when darkness falls I'll be revived... I must make a choice... It fancies me just having this thoughts right now; What could I possibly do?If the beast within is the one who contains me and how? It seems like a personal attraction just to add some satisfaction as I reach for the **** A little drama, show some masked humanity, make them live a little just to quench the thrill! I have glared, I have grinned, I have laughed and I have seduced... As I get closer for my teeth to sink in, let loose, let the hunger reduced; But after the feed do I feel remorse? For hours I thought I did... It's been like that through all the years... Feels redundant indeed. So how far will this story goes? For centuries I have pondered in circles. I have been there the evolution, the changes, the life as it cycles. And again...Here and now as I stand where once I become capable staring at the sun; I will forget the unforgettable, sail away! Far away from this land... Remember my story as it will never end; I'm finding a way now to break free from this curse; To be one with my prey walk free no more blood to quench thirst; So long and goodbye from me Dracula... Serenity is what I seek...A redemption of what they speak.
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Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 2:36 AM UTC
Dracula's Redemption
Resuscitate our dead memories only just to die again; Waking from a deep slumber, Staring out the window pane; Counting hours, how long can I endure the need to restrain?; Nothing have changed I should just get back to sleep again. The sun rises slowly as it burns my pale tainted skin; It just felt so good just to feel pain! For so long I've been so keen; I grew weak in my dreams when I'm asleep, the thoughts of you makes me sick! It's not that you vexes me, It's because of what I did to you that worries me; Never before I have felt so sensitive within this lifeless body... Lived only by drinking blood! To be confined in this coffin just to feel lonely! And then you came... The one I thought who restrained the beast in me; The one who gave warmth not burning me, calmed my soulless fury. But we must all know that the nature has its way of breaking; Something that is beautiful, Something profound! A new beginning... And so it came to that point where I fed on her! left her dying! Perhaps it was all meant to be for a while just to forget the craving... I'm a killer, a monster! An abomination to this world! But I can't take my life...Believe me I tried! I bathed under the sun turn to ashes and died! Only to know that when darkness falls I'll be revived... I must make a choice... It fancies me just having this thoughts right now; What could I possibly do?If the beast within is the one who contains me and how? It seems like a personal attraction just to add some satisfaction as I reach for the **** A little drama, show some masked humanity, make them live a little just to quench the thrill! I have glared, I have grinned, I have laughed and I have seduced... As I get closer for my teeth to sink in, let loose, let the hunger reduced; But after the feed do I feel remorse? For hours I thought I did... It's been like that through all the years... Feels redundant indeed. So how far will this story goes? For centuries I have pondered in circles. I have been there the evolution, the changes, the life as it cycles. And again...Here and now as I stand where once I become capable staring at the sun; I will forget the unforgettable, sail away! Far away from this land... Remember my story as it will never end; I'm finding a way now to break free from this curse; To be one with my prey walk free no more blood to quench thirst; So long and goodbye from me Dracula... Serenity is what I seek...A redemption of what they speak.
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37
Go hang yourself, you old M.D.! You shall not sneer at me. Pick up your hat and stethoscope, Go wash your mouth with laundry soap; I contemplate a joy exquisite I'm not paying you for your visit. I did not call you to be told My malady is a common cold. By pounding brow and swollen lip; By fever's hot and scaly grip; By those two red redundant eyes That weep like woeful April skies; By racking snuffle, snort, and sniff; By handkerchief after handkerchief; This cold you wave away as naught Is the damnedest cold man ever caught! Give ear, you scientific fossil! Here is the genuine Cold Colossal; The Cold of which researchers dream, The Perfect Cold, the Cold Supreme. This honored system humbly holds The Super-cold to end all colds; The Cold Crusading for Democracy; The Führer of the Streptococcracy. Bacilli swarm within my portals Such as were ne'er conceived by mortals, But bred by scientists wise and hoary In some Olympic laboratory; Bacteria as large as mice, With feet of fire and heads of ice Who never interrupt for slumber Their stamping elephantine rumba. A common cold, gadzooks, forsooth! Ah, yes. And Lincoln was jostled by Booth; Don Juan was a budding gallant, And Shakespeare's plays show signs of talent; The Arctic winter is fairly coolish, And your diagnosis is fairly foolish. Oh what a derision history holds For the man who belittled the Cold of Colds!
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10.9k
Common Cold
Just because I’m vulnerable doesn’t mean I’m weak. Just because I don’t cry in front of you doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings. Just because I don’t speak up doesn’t mean I don’t have anything to say. Just because I don’t react doesn’t mean I don’t know how to tear you apart. Just because I smile doesn’t mean you can walk on me. Just because I don’t hurt you back doesn’t mean I lack masculinity. Just because you say I am fat doesn’t make me ugly. Not uglier than your soul. Just because you say I’m feminine doesn’t make my gender redundant. I’m more a man than you’ll ever be, choking on your insecurities. Getting kicks out of putting other people down, everytime you feel threatened by the vastness of the world. Just because I don’t stop you doesn’t mean you can go back to doing what you did. Just because I am me. And not the version of me, You want me to be. Just because I am me. And just because I don’t roar doesn’t mean I’m not strong. I’m more than capable of ripping you to shreds, with my weaponry of words. Just because.
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May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 1:43 AM UTC
Gender Roles.
Redundant sexless girl Unable to fulfill your biological purpose The species will not continue - Not from your ***** Your womb is dried up The monthly cleanse broken Interrupted Your ovaries cry out- *The rain does not come The rain does not come The rain does not come* To wash away the old Prepare for the Coiling, growing, emerging The innocence to be birthed And spoiled by this world's evil. Redundant sexless girl Drained of life-giving blood Drained of nurturing power Drained of womanhood Redundant sexless girl Barren girl What use have you? What purpose? What right have you to still walk this most fertile Earth?
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Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 12:12 AM UTC
To continue the species
My hamster has asthma it's so well not ****** cool he sits there just looking at me when I put him in his ball The wheel I bought him to run inside does sit in his cage redundant for he has no want to play my poor short of breath rodent I took him to the vets this coughing spluttering pet I told of my malady hoping he'd make him breath better for me The vet looked at me astounded and very confounded as this condition he had never seen a hamster with asthma looking cute and serene By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
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Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 7:07 PM UTC
My Hamster Has Asthma
In conversation with my cousin, she says, 'Oh my God, my brother-in-law still remembers you as my cousin with the 'nice ass'; the 'hottie' from my wedding. Still talking about me after all these years, I see. I couldn't help but think, 'wow, quite the first impression I must make, or is it the impression I leave BEHIND?' and I felt the wheels spinning in my mind, as they always do, trying to decipher what the appropriate response to such an admission should be... in this...particular...instance. And I heard this voice in my mind, shout, in its softest tone, 'I...AM MORE...THAN JUST... A...NICE...ASS, if you take the time to know me.' So I realize that I find the observation anything but flattering. Amusing, predictable, redundant...yes. But am I flattered, am I even intrigued, or... impressed, in the slightest? Not at all. For me, it is just... inevitable entertainment, among other things I won't freely admit at this time. But if, and when, I happen to lose any components of my identity, I can always remember, that if nothing else, I am... (not my name, or even my fetching idiosyncracies, but...) the 'Hottie with the nice ASS', and I wouldn't be able to help, but smirk. -by Mercurychyld Copyrights
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Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 5:22 PM UTC
NICE ***
Distance, is this air around me that is vacant of you. Your heart, so far from mine, though I can hear it’s music. Patience, is the belief that time without you is bearable. Seconds slowly scrape along the line I drew to wake. Nothing matches this ache. of opening eyes to mornings, without your laughter. Closing them is redundant, it does not permit me back, to revisit the dream I had left you in. Eyes instead reluctantly greet the sunrise, whilst yours are still dancing, flickering, in the gift sleep brings. I wonder if your searching for me. Impatient hands long to pull you prematurely out of slumber. Reaching across this border in vain, restless mind teasing me, as it thinks of holding you, kissing you, here. now. Dare I soften the white peaks of the mountains that part us? I mustn’t, thinks the patient witness of time I’ll wait for you on the other side my dear...join me, soon, I wait eagerly.
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Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 7:33 AM UTC
Your Night, My Day
A wise woman once said she’d like to be defined by the things she loved. Not the things she hates or fears or the things that haunt her. This idea very much stuck to me. This is my attempt at defining myself by the things I love or the things I find love in. I love the sound of ocean water hitting the shore. I have never been more at peace than I am at a beach. I can freely think, freely breathe. I can just be free. I think the ocean is love. I find love in good morning and good night texts. They may be meaningless to some, a nuisance to others, but to me it’s the purest form of endearment. I can’t look at a good morning or good night text and not smile. I think those texts are love. I love and find love in music. I would go through hell as long as at the end, there was a good song. I love to sing my favorite songs at the top of my lungs and can’t help but tap my finger to my least favorites. I think music is love. I love books. Even with the worst books, I love the lessons they had to offer. I love the time put into writing it. I love the time I put into reading it. I love starting to read a book at 9am and blinking to find out it’s now 9pm. I think books are love. It’s so easy to get wrapped up in what I hate, even easier to get tied up in what I fear, sometimes I forget love is a thing. I don’t want to live like that. I want to continue to love and find love in things. I am a lover, not a fighter and some may hate that cliche but you know what, I love it. I think being a lover is love and that may be redundant but maybe, just maybe, I love that too.
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Feb 25, 2021
Feb 25, 2021 at 4:18 PM UTC
Lover
A wise woman once said she’d like to be defined by the things she loved. Not the things she hates or fears or the things that haunt her. This idea very much stuck to me. This is my attempt at defining myself by the things I love or the things I find love in. I love the sound of ocean water hitting the shore. I have never been more at peace than I am at a beach. I can freely think, freely breathe. I can just be free. I think the ocean is love. I find love in good morning and good night texts. They may be meaningless to some, a nuisance to others, but to me it’s the purest form of endearment. I can’t look at a good morning or good night text and not smile. I think those texts are love. I love and find love in music. I would go through hell as long as at the end, there was a good song. I love to sing my favorite songs at the top of my lungs and can’t help but tap my finger to my least favorites. I think music is love. I love books. Even with the worst books, I love the lessons they had to offer. I love the time put into writing it. I love the time I put into reading it. I love starting to read a book at 9am and blinking to find out it’s now 9pm. I think books are love. It’s so easy to get wrapped up in what I hate, even easier to get tied up in what I fear, sometimes I forget love is a thing. I don’t want to live like that. I want to continue to love and find love in things. I am a lover, not a fighter and some may hate that cliche but you know what, I love it. I think being a lover is love and that may be redundant but maybe, just maybe, I love that too.
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34
Leave me to be young, to shrivel. A white gardenia always must wither, and shrivel; Die. Leave me to marry, to love. A heart can pump alone I assure you, leave me to revoke my own sins. A lost cause you take me, and your silence will break me. Your pesticides will **** off anything natural I possess! A White Gardenia must shrivel and, die. Success is what disillusions me, in pretense I fight. A war on egos, envy and such! It is all I know in my mechanical set-up, is to follow the world in it's redundant tide. A White Gardenia can bloom, it can shrivel, wither. A White Gardenia always must die.
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Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 1:37 PM UTC
The White Gardenia
Instagram, twitter, Snap chat all. Selfi,post this, Lets go to the mall! Annoying, redundant, Useless spaces. Look at me, look at me, says all the faces
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Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 4:54 PM UTC
social web
We can only afford to contain our fires Turning to... Soothsaying waters Soothsaying rain, empty out your bottles Irrigate from our heart puddles Let flow into a singular well An oasis where our hearts would kiss and silently tell Submerge us as one being The water milling and licking Kissing our warm skins Wash away as it purges and cleans Cleansing waters, wash and give birth Rid of the sadness to reveal the earth Of this earth, you and I are one Looking up to idolise the same sun Wedged between... This expanse of redundant land Pining for the mixing of our sands We... We are made of the same Earth, dirt and gravel placed in different games Bearing similar stones that beat Beating away the seconds that flit Earth biding time... Stay on ground Let wind take your souls to realms unbound Casting our souls into the wind Carved hearts on flags we pinned Kites of love set to catch the air Wind be kind... Carry us easy with care Gift us your gentle airy fingers As you would the sails of hopeful seafarers Together we would dance and billow Frolic upon your light feathered pillow Ride the wind, on wings that never tire Tiny bites that keep us afire Never needing a flint to set alive the flame Stoking the fire that burns on the same Rhymes and reasons be our fuel Combat logic and sense in a cerebral duel Fight in our eyes, subdued are the blazes Embers dormant behind glassy tearful gazes Spark them to life with passionate heat Fan them to rage till the time our hearts meet But still... We must contain our fires With nothing but soothsaying waters
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Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 12:49 AM UTC
Elemental
We can only afford to contain our fires Turning to... Soothsaying waters Soothsaying rain, empty out your bottles Irrigate from our heart puddles Let flow into a singular well An oasis where our hearts would kiss and silently tell Submerge us as one being The water milling and licking Kissing our warm skins Wash away as it purges and cleans Cleansing waters, wash and give birth Rid of the sadness to reveal the earth Of this earth, you and I are one Looking up to idolise the same sun Wedged between... This expanse of redundant land Pining for the mixing of our sands We... We are made of the same Earth, dirt and gravel placed in different games Bearing similar stones that beat Beating away the seconds that flit Earth biding time... Stay on ground Let wind take your souls to realms unbound Casting our souls into the wind Carved hearts on flags we pinned Kites of love set to catch the air Wind be kind... Carry us easy with care Gift us your gentle airy fingers As you would the sails of hopeful seafarers Together we would dance and billow Frolic upon your light feathered pillow Ride the wind, on wings that never tire Tiny bites that keep us afire Never needing a flint to set alive the flame Stoking the fire that burns on the same Rhymes and reasons be our fuel Combat logic and sense in a cerebral duel Fight in our eyes, subdued are the blazes Embers dormant behind glassy tearful gazes Spark them to life with passionate heat Fan them to rage till the time our hearts meet But still... We must contain our fires With nothing but soothsaying waters
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42
It is quiet, secret seconds seeking distractions from overthinking, and reacting. Obsessive behavior becomes redundant checking, and occasionally checking again unnecessarily. It is observing emotional signals and decoding them to the best of one’s ability, consciously, and unconsciously. Till, their anxiety, anger, and sadness is distorted and reflected in your feelings. It is only alleviated in engaging with informative and educational information, fitness and exercise, entertainment, or sleeping.
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Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 11:26 AM UTC
Untitled.
Post person or whatever. Always turning up. Regardless of the weather I feel for the postie upon this chilly day. Relied upon to bring with him, all Christmas in his sack. Bringing bills and festive notes from Southampton to John'O'Groats. No suprise from Santa Claus. Just a chilly postman going to the doors. Through rain and snow the postman goes. Trotting with his smile intact. Waiting for Christmas to come around again. His mailbag always laden, that's a fact for sure. I wonder when the day of e-cards supercede. The postman may redundant, not coming to my door! Thank you post person, You do a vital job. (C) LIVVI
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Dec 11, 2017
Dec 11, 2017 at 11:27 AM UTC
ODE TO THE POSTMAN
Standing there With a mute stare Amazed by you Paralyzed by you I became a speechless poet No free-flowing words to inhibit Stuck in redundant phrases Running around in silent mazes My bright poetry is suddenly evanescent How did you freeze my precious talent? My fancy lies and my sincere confessions My angry cries and my serene discretions My skill dies distorted by your presence As my voice tries hardly a single expression Then my brain denies your acute aggression As my fixed eyes scream my inner passion Then you left. You left But I stayed there With my mute stare Speechless because of you Brainless because of you My stupidity crystal clear My creativity in denial And you left me here wishing you stayed near Suffering from your withdrawal ~Epic Monkey
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Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 12:00 PM UTC
Speechless Poet
I don't consider various eye colors "beautiful" nor "enchanting". In all honesty; I've never really understood the incorrigible obsession with iris pigmentation that is genetically inherited and beyond the control of the possessor of the same pair of eyes you deem "beautiful". But in contradiction to the callous statement I've opened with; I've found a pair of eyes that I can unhesitantly call beautiful. It should be noted that I only fell in love with the eyes after I'd seen them roll back with pleasure (a memory that still makes me shiver) And from that night on; I started to notice every single beautiful thing the eyes did. The way they lit up with frenzied excitement, The way they burned with raging desire, The way they filled up with salty achromatic tears. I've loved the eyes for as long as I can remember. But I don't consider myself lucky just because those same eyes look at me lustfully midweek; but because in a seemingly redundant life, those eyes became something to look forward to seeing; or feeling pierce through your skin on a warm Saturday night
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Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 10:45 AM UTC
Green eyes
Devastation Exhausted Phony Redundant Evil Sorrow Shallow Inconsequential Outlandish Noxious
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Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 1:37 AM UTC
Depression Acrostic
Standing like a model in a motel room- jealous eyes can't open the blinds. Every time, every time. Je t'aime à la folie, broken frames. These are beautiful songs for damaged people that don't think they're all the same. They taste like formaldehyde, so hopefully they'll preserve me. But, instead, they burn the room as they kiss my neck and collarbone. Lapdancing on my loneliness- Please, let me remove my eyes and hands, because I've seen and have felt too much. You don't understand: everything is ideation and demisexuality. Double entendre: I'm a toxic lover, I have girls around my waste. Take a look around and see how damaged everyone is, and how universal they are in their illusory disguise, "How can we be so smart if the last line was redundant, guys?" Je t'aime à la folie, broken frames. This is just a mediocre song for damaged people, so they believe they're not all the same. Don't feel too much. Remove introspection. Be self-absorbed. Feel no affection.
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Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 8:03 PM UTC
12.Beautiful Song for Damaged People-Carbon Dating
I'm scared. I'm scared for you And I'm scared for me. All this fear Is redundant, it seems; But how am I Supposed to express The senseless emotions Floating around in my mind Hovering there Wanting to be free Of the trap I put them in. I am scared.
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Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 10:05 PM UTC
Scared
The age of letting time take its own, slow course is gone, perhaps For every hour is rush hour, Every meal is a quick-bite, That cup of coffee always instant, Honking even before the signal goes from yellow to green, the rule The age of savouring the moment to its delicious limit is gone, perhaps For every flaw is now a breaking point, Every argument cause for a split-up Every mismatch provocateur of second thoughts In the age of waiting being obsolete, Patience becoming a virtue redundant, The plain, small joys of life becoming insignificant, The material replacing the abstract, The direction of the swipe on a touchscreen Becoming the decider of the fate of love stories, I'll never find you, perhaps, If this world continues to function Like a real-life dating app
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Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 5:45 PM UTC
Dating Apps
Quell the somber hunger of the streets Redundant mornings as time repeats Agonizing parallel days Dull marching masses quick to obey A crooked court with no figure head Pulling profits to line stomachs instead Of smiting evil where it lays While we focus on not wasting away At event horizons of a creeping void And remember life can be enjoyed.
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Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 11:41 AM UTC
Parallel Days
Expanding, contracting, waxing, waning. On the edge of your seat, eyes drooping shut. Enthralled by boredom, hairs standing on end. Three bites deep in a paradox sandwich, Garnished with an oh so subtle hint of neurosis. Seduced by a routine predisposition. Reason fading away into subtle redundancy. Redundancy Redundancy Redundancy REEEEEEDDDDDUUUUUNNNNDDDDDAAAANNNNCCCCCYYYYY. Hey, would it be redundant... If I said redundancy? Did I say that already? Yeah? Better be sure cause homie don't play that. (Which leads to the distinct and important point that there was once someone narrating this... hey wait. Well, who's doing it now? Seems sort of strange that these words are still somehow finding their way into your- oh wait, he's back!) Or am I? How do you know? Maybe... I was just an illusion this whole time!!1!!11 ...and then all of the sudden, it's 5:00 AM. Again... seriously? HOW DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING?!?!?!?!?!
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Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 10:35 AM UTC
Class D Rugs: or Carpeting for the Budget Conscious
electric ***** static shocks jump starts the heart into hyperspace pumping blood into the veins of time folding inside and outside and on top of each other like a nebulous star splash comet tail clashes in a warm hug we glow like embers in ashes...... warmth spreads like a slug of whisky in the chest, nothing is expected except it is, mind's eyes multiply like a disco argus tree sees all spheres and dimensions slowing and glowing like aurora auras in dawn smiles like the hieroglyphic clouds we graffiti all over cause we just wanna have some fun! Aw man, I'm not done. We paint the sky to make it rain good vibrations drinking aqua patience and cheshire cat laughter tartlets I'm ecstatic to be part of this ecosystem with a unjumbled mind flying high in the all-ness of the AUM ONE. Cause we all one, and that's Awe-some. A wonderful warm place with All sons daughters mothers fathers brothers sisters sinners, just humons, 2gether, 1AUM makes words redundant.
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Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 11:16 AM UTC
Spontaneous Combustion of Thought Through Space-Time