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"rememberd" poems
gliding over the piano keys hitting all the right combinations the receiver drifting off helped by smoke circles wiping the face settling in sitting deeper circle the glass edge soaked in oak mixed water burning wood crackles fire a visual trap slowly sifting trough the past regret and pride equally rememberd the ghost visit one by one all before midnight ding **** the old clock answers the tears the journey been long
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Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 5:42 AM UTC
gliding the piano
Dance in dark Delight in days Revel in reality slipping slowly to the gray. Inky black comfort dripping into haze. Distraught in denile Damaged in disdain Rememberd reason trembeling in shadows to the grave. Nervous the edge of sanity sinking slowly below the brave. Cringe in quiet Crumble in cacophony Bask in benign indifference to the coming of the fray. Shape the broken mold into which is squezed the clay. Form in function Friction in fruition Extrapolate from nothing what is real of what is fake. Drive doom through the heart wooden to the stake. Damaged and distroyed, disturbed and distrought, this is the friction of the fraught.
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Aug 3, 2012
Aug 3, 2012 at 3:54 PM UTC
Friction of the Fraught
all good dreams begin with a kiss that beautiful touch of soft lips eyes closed body poised on the very edge of yearning and her lips taste so sweet warm invitingly passions flame a brief moment away barley contained in this soft embrace of lips but you can feel its fire ready to burst upon you feel the deep ocean of her heart stirring to wild thought dreams feel her surrendering to her wishes delights pull her closer yearn with her let your heart run with hers let go let her in a long sweet kiss tumble back to breathless earth tumble back to...
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Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 11:43 AM UTC
first kiss rememberd
Here is a poem not written for you here is a home not provided by you this is a love not given by you this is the help not offered by you here is the truth not revealed by you here I am not rememberd by you so many things not done by you yet here I am waiting for you…
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Jun 5, 2010
Jun 5, 2010 at 8:40 PM UTC
NOT
This is when i write my best poems When there is So much Inside Messed Tangled Intertwined Unraveled Kept aside Forgotten Brought back Rememberd Ignored You Decide Undecide And then one hundred words fall into a piece of paper like drops of rain hurling from the sky. You can not expect it You may not understand it But you Feel Feel the moment It collides With your soul Finds a home In your ribs It's a trauma In disguise.
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Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 10:02 PM UTC
1 moment past insight
In my life seems to be a mixture of bad, not right, or hella wrong. It's like EVERYTHING is a twisted verse in that one Blue song. The turmoil, the mishaps, well yea they all play a role. Who do I return nothing to? Cause the deal was I get EVERYTHING for my soul. So I signed the deed. But didn't read the fine print. I should have took the hint When I signed with a ****** print. EVERYTHING In my life is like coming down; I built many bridges in this land. But now I only got remnats of ash around town. My smile is non-existent. All I have to show is a crooked frown. And love naw it don't seem to live here anymore. I've been looking for it everywhere but then again I ask myself what for... More tears filled with pain and sorrow. And then left to think that there is no tomorrow. EVRYTHING Is like coming to its expiration. And I'm facing smiles full of lie. Being that I'm not important enough to be rememberd, I can live now and later die. I've become the target and the world seems to be aiming at my why. And still tears fall from my eye but atleast my concrete rose still has a try. EVERYTHING In my life maybe torn, I may have wounds and scars victim to the thorn. My concrete rose ain't passed. And yet I wonder; should my concrete rose pass will it be reborn. Why me? Why am I so blind? I think I know but can't see, the difference between right, wrong, good or bad. I've become a wanderer. So I wander the streets tormented and sad. I've got the regonition but it's something I already had. How much can one Loco have? I know the feeling of losing EVERYTHING so I'm not always mad. EVERYTHING comes and goes it's the when will EVRYTHING end that no one knows.
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Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 10:21 PM UTC
EVRYTHING
In my life seems to be a mixture of bad, not right, or hella wrong. It's like EVERYTHING is a twisted verse in that one Blue song. The turmoil, the mishaps, well yea they all play a role. Who do I return nothing to? Cause the deal was I get EVERYTHING for my soul. So I signed the deed. But didn't read the fine print. I should have took the hint When I signed with a ****** print. EVERYTHING In my life is like coming down; I built many bridges in this land. But now I only got remnats of ash around town. My smile is non-existent. All I have to show is a crooked frown. And love naw it don't seem to live here anymore. I've been looking for it everywhere but then again I ask myself what for... More tears filled with pain and sorrow. And then left to think that there is no tomorrow. EVRYTHING Is like coming to its expiration. And I'm facing smiles full of lie. Being that I'm not important enough to be rememberd, I can live now and later die. I've become the target and the world seems to be aiming at my why. And still tears fall from my eye but atleast my concrete rose still has a try. EVERYTHING In my life maybe torn, I may have wounds and scars victim to the thorn. My concrete rose ain't passed. And yet I wonder; should my concrete rose pass will it be reborn. Why me? Why am I so blind? I think I know but can't see, the difference between right, wrong, good or bad. I've become a wanderer. So I wander the streets tormented and sad. I've got the regonition but it's something I already had. How much can one Loco have? I know the feeling of losing EVERYTHING so I'm not always mad. EVERYTHING comes and goes it's the when will EVRYTHING end that no one knows.
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the scent of fresh green grass overwhelming the chilled air the branches of the maple tree swayed as if there was nothing to worry about but the present time in the now the rays of sun beamed down upon the silent earth the fall colors hued their surroundings reminding any living thing of this world's true beauty as a deer padded silently it ventured boldly into the clearing the earth seemed to come to a stand-still in complete awe its soft dark brown eyes so gentle so fragile yet strong bold fearless The only thing destracting the world of the sheer beauty was a small sparrow singing a soft tune sadly, it takes something like this to prove this world's beauty Tis like a pare of glassed these frames provise a view of the world as we know it suggested to different people sadly enough many people have been presented with the wrong frames they are distorted by societie's cruel tools to see the bad in this world to see the hurt the pain the death and the hate yet some people are given frames that see the good in this world that see the beauty the love the peace the passion what I say to you now should always be rememberd stya close to these people so next time you look at the beautiful world you will see the good for life is too short to dwell on the little things that simply can't change when you can live out the big things that can.
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Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 9:39 PM UTC
The Beauty
It was dark, who could she could possibly hold on to but you? It was loud, who could she possibly focus but you? It was quite, who could she possibly hear but you? Many things happened Only you she remembered When it was dark, would you let her hold on to you? When it was loud, would you help her focus to you? When it was quite, would you let her hear you? Many decisions lay on your hand Because only you she remembered For all the things she rememberd It only last because you let her to For all the things she needed you for It only last because she let you to Would you ever waste a moment to give her? When you know she only remember what you give her to The love, important dates, jokes that only you both understand Would you still, then, waste a moment to give her? For all she remember is you For all she remember is a love to remember
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Nov 21, 2018
Nov 21, 2018 at 9:43 AM UTC
What She Remembered
I am aboard an there is no getting off Here is Lady's D and I hold her icy glove I am something I can not read I am a child of a poisonous seed Shiny ray casts itself on a midday of my numbness Endless death is rotting deep inside. My dreams of vagueness ... They are tempting like a suicide I am dissolving I can't make any choice I colour myself With a ****** tracks Sinking down to Kingdom Come I am waiting for the Time to dishonor me Dancing in it's dire clothes
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Feb 26, 2019
Feb 26, 2019 at 6:43 AM UTC
The day I rememberd St. Peter
Superb!  It's alright to take a few things for granted, but then I notice the little things, like the way the yard is centered, like the way my hair grows into the right place, like a girl I love reciprocates, and a few more things I don't need to mention.  But The body floats over itself, occasionally, and blah blah blah, today is okay, right?   Yes, the right people say the right things at the right timing, and your love ones move in tandem with the rhythm of your needs, the rhythm of self what I'm trying to say is, things are looking okay, and okay is a shield moving in front of a mind that is a lake of misfits, all trying to get on board a ship of understanding, and hey!  they all got their hands on!  even the most absurd found a way to hook their clutches to the side and perhaps this feeling is fleeting, like so many other things, but then again, we have a magic ability to remember what needs to be rememberd, and the people that love us remember, too to be comfortable with ambiguity, is probably the greatest blessing of all... to not need to write is probably an even greater blessing, when the porch and the sunshine contain all the answers in the universe, space and time stand still, the news is on a paper that is small or on a television that is turned off stability, my friends, is all I ask for, in this life, and I am content with that
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May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 4:57 PM UTC
A decent feeling