"replenishing" poems - Hello Poetry

"replenishing" poems

Looking at myself now, I am not sure that I recognize any piece of who I used to be. Our cells are constantly replenishing and replacing, and technically speaking, I am not at all the person I once was. I understand that I am a collection of my experiences and that everything I have done has led me to this moment. I do not know what has come of the choices I made opposing this. The patches of my skin that only said yes when they meant it have peeled away and are replaced by the fresh tissue of compliance. If I am the sum of my experiences then why are there no scars on my thighs from the times I smiled? If I am the sum of all of my experiences then why is there a fracture in my arm from anger but not from love? If I am really the sum of all of my experiences then why does my body only show my regrets?

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May 1, 2014

May 1, 2014 at 8:53 PM UTC

Looking at myself now, I am not sure that I recognize any piece of who I used to be. Our cells are constantly replenishing and replacing, and technically speaking, I am not at all the person I once was. I understand that I am a collection of my experiences and that everything I have done has led me to this moment. I do not know what has come of the choices I made opposing this. The patches of my skin that only said yes when they meant it have peeled away and are replaced by the fresh tissue of compliance. If I am the sum of my experiences then why are there no scars on my thighs from the times I smiled? If I am the sum of all of my experiences then why is there a fracture in my arm from anger but not from love? If I am really the sum of all of my experiences then why does my body only show my regrets?

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Meaningful is the wayward child that is found, For he or she finds favor in thus adoring praise. Replenishing spiritual vines that spread messages of hope above and beyond. Therefore, the third eye knoweth all. Whose breath gives life to the faint hearted. As barriers are tore down, crossing over... Anointed one, where, the precious angel entered. You are the brothers and sisters in faith building. They do preserver as the battle of Jericho. In a molding guidance of clay made hands... For their is hope of feeding the milk as well as the flesh. Kisses of glory befall unto your good graces. Thou wisdom quench the hell like rain pour puddles. His world! His judgment! His wrath! Bestow thou honor, in hills of perfect talk. Fatherless child! Fatherless child! Beware of the dragon den. Slay your enemies with delicate wings:the cup of kindness. As you are humbled in purple linens, fading all unseemly. The soldier of bravery, when thou hour come, there is a home. Cross over into the well enlightened pathways. Make the rough roads a gateway to the everlasting promise. Sing in jubilation, for tribulation is done and your vision seen.

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May 21, 2011

May 21, 2011 at 10:21 AM UTC

Meaningful is the wayward child that is found, For he or she finds favor in thus adoring praise. Replenishing spiritual vines that spread messages of hope above and beyond. Therefore, the third eye knoweth all. Whose breath gives life to the faint hearted. As barriers are tore down, crossing over... Anointed one, where, the precious angel entered. You are the brothers and sisters in faith building. They do preserver as the battle of Jericho. In a molding guidance of clay made hands... For their is hope of feeding the milk as well as the flesh. Kisses of glory befall unto your good graces. Thou wisdom quench the hell like rain pour puddles. His world! His judgment! His wrath! Bestow thou honor, in hills of perfect talk. Fatherless child! Fatherless child! Beware of the dragon den. Slay your enemies with delicate wings:the cup of kindness. As you are humbled in purple linens, fading all unseemly. The soldier of bravery, when thou hour come, there is a home. Cross over into the well enlightened pathways. Make the rough roads a gateway to the everlasting promise. Sing in jubilation, for tribulation is done and your vision seen.

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camel C-A-M-E-L ... ... (?) ... Why? I don't know, cause they're cool ! . ? his favorite animal is a camel and he doesn't know why but i do i think, as a kid, he read about it in an encyclopedia And decided, "that's how I want to live my life" the humps on camel's backs that can store water and they can go days, weeks, months, I even heard years without replenishing crossing dry, barren deserts carrying cargo, people i didn't know camels wore graphic t-shirts, crocs and cargo shorts but he is a camel tall and lanky takes in tons and never gains a pound (i hate camels) a camel exists in the Arabian world is in love with a Middle-Eastern girl and they even have a miracle of that descent He IS A Camel! but the humps on his back are hope and inspiration and with just a little in the tank he will cross a world of deserts and bring you back a treasure chest full of dreams but he enjoys simplicity ... Sometimes, then sometimes not at all he takes things way overboard and carries far to much cargo but he crosses the desert anyway i didn't know camels were such good teachers didn't know they made such good friends

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Jul 2, 2012

Jul 2, 2012 at 4:30 PM UTC

camel C-A-M-E-L ... ... (?) ... Why? I don't know, cause they're cool ! . ? his favorite animal is a camel and he doesn't know why but i do i think, as a kid, he read about it in an encyclopedia And decided, "that's how I want to live my life" the humps on camel's backs that can store water and they can go days, weeks, months, I even heard years without replenishing crossing dry, barren deserts carrying cargo, people i didn't know camels wore graphic t-shirts, crocs and cargo shorts but he is a camel tall and lanky takes in tons and never gains a pound (i hate camels) a camel exists in the Arabian world is in love with a Middle-Eastern girl and they even have a miracle of that descent He IS A Camel! but the humps on his back are hope and inspiration and with just a little in the tank he will cross a world of deserts and bring you back a treasure chest full of dreams but he enjoys simplicity ... Sometimes, then sometimes not at all he takes things way overboard and carries far to much cargo but he crosses the desert anyway i didn't know camels were such good teachers didn't know they made such good friends

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When you sit in a chair you sink into it's warmth and comfort. It's like it's hugging you and making you feel like everything is alright in life. As you sit in that chair you start to wonder. Wonder about life and all of it's treasures. That chair is magical giving you happiness and light. And replenishing you for the rest of the night. You finally stand up and you feel uneasy and faint. Feeling like you can't move and your constraint. You sit back down and all of your colour comes back. What just happened? You wonder. 'Maybe I should just sit back and relax.' You fall asleep in the chair and the next morning you wake up fresh. You feel so good and you had such a great rest. But when you stand up again you just fall back down. The chair is holding on to you and won't let you go. It's afraid you'll never come back to it and you'll just leave. Abandoning it never coming back to see. See if it's okay and if it's been refurbished. Or to see if it's torn down to little pieces. You don't care it's just a chair. That will collect dust in despair. So you get up and say goodbye to that chair. And you never come back. Because that's what you're best at. That chair will stay there and hope for another. Another to sit and ponder. And then that person will also get up and leave. Leaving that chair to stay and grieve. Grieve about the loss of all the people that have come and gone. And only used it as something to sit on.

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May 22, 2015

May 22, 2015 at 11:36 PM UTC

When you sit in a chair you sink into it's warmth and comfort. It's like it's hugging you and making you feel like everything is alright in life. As you sit in that chair you start to wonder. Wonder about life and all of it's treasures. That chair is magical giving you happiness and light. And replenishing you for the rest of the night. You finally stand up and you feel uneasy and faint. Feeling like you can't move and your constraint. You sit back down and all of your colour comes back. What just happened? You wonder. 'Maybe I should just sit back and relax.' You fall asleep in the chair and the next morning you wake up fresh. You feel so good and you had such a great rest. But when you stand up again you just fall back down. The chair is holding on to you and won't let you go. It's afraid you'll never come back to it and you'll just leave. Abandoning it never coming back to see. See if it's okay and if it's been refurbished. Or to see if it's torn down to little pieces. You don't care it's just a chair. That will collect dust in despair. So you get up and say goodbye to that chair. And you never come back. Because that's what you're best at. That chair will stay there and hope for another. Another to sit and ponder. And then that person will also get up and leave. Leaving that chair to stay and grieve. Grieve about the loss of all the people that have come and gone. And only used it as something to sit on.

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Blue the mountains holding close in view sacred smoke of yesterdays blue fog shrouded trails beneath the rhododendron falls of sweet blue water replenishing the rivers sapphire lakes reflecting splendor of the bluest hills above the peaceful valley hear the sacred music of the blue ridge mountains magic in the songs of old forever blue my appalachia blue the hills I used to roam. r ~ 7/4/14

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Jul 4, 2014

Jul 4, 2014 at 9:16 AM UTC

Appalachian blue

Blue the mountains holding close in view sacred smoke of yesterdays blue fog shrouded trails beneath the rhododendron falls of sweet blue water replenishing the rivers sapphire lakes reflecting splendor of the bluest hills above the peaceful valley hear the sacred music of the blue ridge mountains magic in the songs of old forever blue my appalachia blue the hills I used to roam. r ~ 7/4/14

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A light within is dimmed when compassion looks elsewhere for a home.. Our going forth is tethered to a light we have and own.. Remembering Returning Replenishing is the splendid core of compassion.. Then we are fed and ready for compassion to find its way away from home...

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Oct 9, 2012

Oct 9, 2012 at 12:20 AM UTC

A light within is dimmed when compassion looks elsewhere for a home.. Our going forth is tethered to a light we have and own.. Remembering Returning Replenishing is the splendid core of compassion.. Then we are fed and ready for compassion to find its way away from home...

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I am the lust of the universe longing to know itself I am the thoughts like a cascading stream water pummeling the rock of my soul molding, shaping, forming, conforming I am the peace of the bamboo forest a society of shoots shades of green solitude standing together, clunking hollow, serene, transfixing parallel angles, mesmerizing obscuring the gaze beyond, reflecting within drops drip and fall with a shake I am the child throwing sand into the ocean, jumping from the rushing water challenging fate with a raised fist and a laugh to do his worst I am the dancer in the waves lifted by the tides pirouetting in the current I am the red stone cliff on the sea shore sovereign stratum carved growing with green, lush yet hard I am the buttressed black lava rock standing in the water, remote and mysterious accepting time and erosion, jagged I am the new sun rising red arising from the mountain mist swirling on the ocean ascending from the clouded horizon a grand illusion of motion, perception, the seer I am the beach wood fallen from the trees standing as sentinels to the ebb and flow laughing in silence with the wind and the sound of tides whooshing I am the surfer riding the energy of the earth slicing across the liquid wall face I am the flag of men unifying and dividing I am the sand welcoming water and feet soft as creamy butter I am the mother and the son replenishing, trailing, following, playing, watching sharing belly buttons I am the butterfly gliding on the Kona wind wandering immortal

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Jan 5, 2014

Jan 5, 2014 at 8:05 PM UTC

universal-thrum

Until we meet again - O Hui hou

I am the lust of the universe longing to know itself I am the thoughts like a cascading stream water pummeling the rock of my soul molding, shaping, forming, conforming I am the peace of the bamboo forest a society of shoots shades of green solitude standing together, clunking hollow, serene, transfixing parallel angles, mesmerizing obscuring the gaze beyond, reflecting within drops drip and fall with a shake I am the child throwing sand into the ocean, jumping from the rushing water challenging fate with a raised fist and a laugh to do his worst I am the dancer in the waves lifted by the tides pirouetting in the current I am the red stone cliff on the sea shore sovereign stratum carved growing with green, lush yet hard I am the buttressed black lava rock standing in the water, remote and mysterious accepting time and erosion, jagged I am the new sun rising red arising from the mountain mist swirling on the ocean ascending from the clouded horizon a grand illusion of motion, perception, the seer I am the beach wood fallen from the trees standing as sentinels to the ebb and flow laughing in silence with the wind and the sound of tides whooshing I am the surfer riding the energy of the earth slicing across the liquid wall face I am the flag of men unifying and dividing I am the sand welcoming water and feet soft as creamy butter I am the mother and the son replenishing, trailing, following, playing, watching sharing belly buttons I am the butterfly gliding on the Kona wind wandering immortal

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Sleeping We are Dreaming Relaxing Replenishing Winding down Breaking Imagining Exploring Refueling Breathing Sighing Sleeping.

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Jun 4, 2012

Jun 4, 2012 at 1:35 PM UTC

Sleeping We are Dreaming Relaxing Replenishing Winding down Breaking Imagining Exploring Refueling Breathing Sighing Sleeping.

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***** feet ***** of them ache they're dry all dried out, moisture to face and digestive tract make little difference but comfort a little sort of; maybe subdue to replenishing skip the pain with a drink fucken, fucken drink fucken dust lingers in the brain, it swirls a cloud of ground envelops the shape of u u become covered u have a layer, salty, and dry and 'organic' (surely bio (though im not sure what is or why are)) full city boy, suburban boy, not particularly gritty boy along side hippies and volunteers all tripppy and unwashed, and un plastic yet forcefully hemped drunk of micro beer and burnt brown and blotchy red and wire-y and dry and matted as if nothing really matters except for principles misguided and randomly enforced feel like a husk; peanut shell insides swallowed by the mouth of the party embodied a monsterous sweaty man tanned and thickly bearded and beered fat dreads fall around and surround u; a forest of hair a circle encroaching of fuzzy pillars in fibres entrapped inside them; feel their lingering time matted hold a wealth of effort to become unkempt; they are bars they are walls and the FACE! ……………………… ………………………………… oh looming down, wafts of armpit vapour cloud; a looming puft that surrounds engorged by the scent as it circles u, the mouth that lowered onto u chews u and spills bits of u chomp chomp protein for vegetarians; u; ur rigour ur vigour ur guts eaten in a flurry of chomps and slurps and it crunches and it grates like the rocks on the ***** of ur feet it grates u are digested and reused as they would like but for them; for a collective u dived into for fun 2 days to peddle ur wares to progress ( admittedly through some days of regression…) for all humans, and Humans; for fun on monday we will repent for the damages waged on the inside of the body and the outsides too for some gain i guess on this which we settle for always for display for fun

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Mar 12, 2013

Mar 12, 2013 at 2:10 AM UTC

***** feet ***** of them ache they're dry all dried out, moisture to face and digestive tract make little difference but comfort a little sort of; maybe subdue to replenishing skip the pain with a drink fucken, fucken drink fucken dust lingers in the brain, it swirls a cloud of ground envelops the shape of u u become covered u have a layer, salty, and dry and 'organic' (surely bio (though im not sure what is or why are)) full city boy, suburban boy, not particularly gritty boy along side hippies and volunteers all tripppy and unwashed, and un plastic yet forcefully hemped drunk of micro beer and burnt brown and blotchy red and wire-y and dry and matted as if nothing really matters except for principles misguided and randomly enforced feel like a husk; peanut shell insides swallowed by the mouth of the party embodied a monsterous sweaty man tanned and thickly bearded and beered fat dreads fall around and surround u; a forest of hair a circle encroaching of fuzzy pillars in fibres entrapped inside them; feel their lingering time matted hold a wealth of effort to become unkempt; they are bars they are walls and the FACE! ……………………… ………………………………… oh looming down, wafts of armpit vapour cloud; a looming puft that surrounds engorged by the scent as it circles u, the mouth that lowered onto u chews u and spills bits of u chomp chomp protein for vegetarians; u; ur rigour ur vigour ur guts eaten in a flurry of chomps and slurps and it crunches and it grates like the rocks on the ***** of ur feet it grates u are digested and reused as they would like but for them; for a collective u dived into for fun 2 days to peddle ur wares to progress ( admittedly through some days of regression…) for all humans, and Humans; for fun on monday we will repent for the damages waged on the inside of the body and the outsides too for some gain i guess on this which we settle for always for display for fun

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*Turning a blind eye to the dark clouds Looming over the horizon Lightning lashing across like whip Loud crackle and the thunderous roar Lightning strikes with archer’s precision Hitting the target with a vengeance Cauterizing life in a matter of seconds Zeus, unleashing the thunderbolt So much rage in the Ether Punishing relentlessly with nature’s fury Now the clouds break loose Intense darkness shrouds over the day Clouds have opened up with running streams As it washes away all the agony It opens the eyes to an invigorating event Replenishing the parched Earth Waterfalls and rivers flows with life Nature calms after the ferocity, bringing hope*

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Aug 7, 2014

Aug 7, 2014 at 5:11 AM UTC

Nature’s Fury

*Turning a blind eye to the dark clouds Looming over the horizon Lightning lashing across like whip Loud crackle and the thunderous roar Lightning strikes with archer’s precision Hitting the target with a vengeance Cauterizing life in a matter of seconds Zeus, unleashing the thunderbolt So much rage in the Ether Punishing relentlessly with nature’s fury Now the clouds break loose Intense darkness shrouds over the day Clouds have opened up with running streams As it washes away all the agony It opens the eyes to an invigorating event Replenishing the parched Earth Waterfalls and rivers flows with life Nature calms after the ferocity, bringing hope*

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Fingers Picking ****** flowers Dripping spice burgundy Staining serenity A touch of Surreal simplicity Undaunted movement of Molecular fractals Bursting in waves Of fantastical light Sensual trickles Tongue Licking sappy mosses Amber and honey Expanding swiftly An odyssey through the Gums and divisions Between ivory teeth Ecstasy aplenty Flooding down through The body Leaving stains Of serenity Nostrils Sniffing smoky cedar Microscopic air ripples Orchestra of tune and note Tune and note Whispers and cries Kisses and sighs Invisible in form and sight These do travel Through tunnels Those give sense of smell Droplets of spice burgundy Toes Sinking through layer Under layer of moist clay Descending in time shaken Matter Pores of the skin Breathing air and soil Replenishing vital veins Rivers of beating blood Unending Molecular fractals Fingers Picking ****** flowers Dripping spice burgundy Staining serenity A touch of Surreal simplicity Undaunted movement of Molecular fractals Bursting in waves Of fantastical light Sensual trickles

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Sep 25, 2012

Sep 25, 2012 at 9:55 PM UTC

Touch, Taste, Smell, Touch

Fingers Picking ****** flowers Dripping spice burgundy Staining serenity A touch of Surreal simplicity Undaunted movement of Molecular fractals Bursting in waves Of fantastical light Sensual trickles Tongue Licking sappy mosses Amber and honey Expanding swiftly An odyssey through the Gums and divisions Between ivory teeth Ecstasy aplenty Flooding down through The body Leaving stains Of serenity Nostrils Sniffing smoky cedar Microscopic air ripples Orchestra of tune and note Tune and note Whispers and cries Kisses and sighs Invisible in form and sight These do travel Through tunnels Those give sense of smell Droplets of spice burgundy Toes Sinking through layer Under layer of moist clay Descending in time shaken Matter Pores of the skin Breathing air and soil Replenishing vital veins Rivers of beating blood Unending Molecular fractals Fingers Picking ****** flowers Dripping spice burgundy Staining serenity A touch of Surreal simplicity Undaunted movement of Molecular fractals Bursting in waves Of fantastical light Sensual trickles

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Kissed by God she a child of love, untainted by ways of man. In the world of the dying, she spreads her love, replenishing broken hearts. In her alluring eyes, you can gaze at the universe as it unfolds. With a ballet of stars along the milky-way. Singing life's song as the mystery fades Joined by those who sleep in hope Revived as they come to know. life is love

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Jan 26, 2015

Jan 26, 2015 at 4:17 PM UTC

Kissed by God she a child of love, untainted by ways of man. In the world of the dying, she spreads her love, replenishing broken hearts. In her alluring eyes, you can gaze at the universe as it unfolds. With a ballet of stars along the milky-way. Singing life's song as the mystery fades Joined by those who sleep in hope Revived as they come to know. life is love

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resuming textual trip testing experimental procedures visualizing model tsunami augmenting facetious environment catching abstract architecture noticing rhythmic exchange projecting subtextual database airhorning reggae royalty adding atypical party resolving twitter question noticing emotional mission awaiting emotional dialect installing metaphorical experiment intensifying animated trip displaying dynamic victory programming abstract development releasing emotional exchange deriving fata morgana glorifying referential sequence intensifying facetious map noticing harmonic trip observing radical ratio compiling nomadic message predating google rebranding reticulating facetious panda using hyperreal feedback exploring virtual panda speculating graphic gallery throwing mundane exception targeting graphic experiment replenishing emotional trap localizing asemic animal dropping rhythmic trip propagating immortal experiment displaying lowercase database invading orange bubbles crashing animated trip running conceptual topography remembering collapsed buildings crashing hyperreal coverage propagating hyperreal stipulation finishing western library envisioning neon tessellation reciprocating network likes processing animated device releasing haptic quality examining building seven awaiting rhapsodical ratio sampling death sauce sensing lowercase clone examining symbolic tour processing potential development encapsulating spatial lottery displaying digital paragraph reticulating theoretical source perpetuating western paragraph transmitting monochromatic structure anticipating ambient quality transmitting asemic environment intensifying atomic quality remastering history poem keeping future light hypothesizing eternal game using future library rearranging masonic language transmitting masonic development continuing ceremonial ritual questioning party's legitimacy deferring western coverage finishing asemic hypertext mollifying ostentatious presence synthesizing allegorical icon forming categorical unions sketching app wireframe programming immortal repository

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Sep 15, 2015

Sep 15, 2015 at 6:52 PM UTC

resuming textual trip testing experimental procedures visualizing model tsunami augmenting facetious environment catching abstract architecture noticing rhythmic exchange projecting subtextual database airhorning reggae royalty adding atypical party resolving twitter question noticing emotional mission awaiting emotional dialect installing metaphorical experiment intensifying animated trip displaying dynamic victory programming abstract development releasing emotional exchange deriving fata morgana glorifying referential sequence intensifying facetious map noticing harmonic trip observing radical ratio compiling nomadic message predating google rebranding reticulating facetious panda using hyperreal feedback exploring virtual panda speculating graphic gallery throwing mundane exception targeting graphic experiment replenishing emotional trap localizing asemic animal dropping rhythmic trip propagating immortal experiment displaying lowercase database invading orange bubbles crashing animated trip running conceptual topography remembering collapsed buildings crashing hyperreal coverage propagating hyperreal stipulation finishing western library envisioning neon tessellation reciprocating network likes processing animated device releasing haptic quality examining building seven awaiting rhapsodical ratio sampling death sauce sensing lowercase clone examining symbolic tour processing potential development encapsulating spatial lottery displaying digital paragraph reticulating theoretical source perpetuating western paragraph transmitting monochromatic structure anticipating ambient quality transmitting asemic environment intensifying atomic quality remastering history poem keeping future light hypothesizing eternal game using future library rearranging masonic language transmitting masonic development continuing ceremonial ritual questioning party's legitimacy deferring western coverage finishing asemic hypertext mollifying ostentatious presence synthesizing allegorical icon forming categorical unions sketching app wireframe programming immortal repository

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with the cost of petrol being so dear one is forced to drive in low gear the engine cannot be at full throttle as it will use more than a seven pint bottle replenishing the petrol tank is a scourge and from our wallets it does vengefully purge it is quite frightening receiving those petrol dockets for they leave a humongous hole in our pockets soon everyone will be walking or riding a bike they'll not be able to take the petrol price hikes each week we're at the mercy of the oil giants they are making a lot of dough from their clients they've got us over a barrel pardon the pun and we're running scared of their pistol packing petrol gun public transport is the best option for us to take at least that will not of our dollars forsake petrol prices are of the most dire concern and I can foresee our hard earned pennies set to burn

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Mar 29, 2013

Mar 29, 2013 at 4:25 AM UTC

ElizabethSquires

with the cost of petrol being so dear one is forced to drive in low gear the engine cannot be at full throttle as it will use more than a seven pint bottle replenishing the petrol tank is a scourge and from our wallets it does vengefully purge it is quite frightening receiving those petrol dockets for they leave a humongous hole in our pockets soon everyone will be walking or riding a bike they'll not be able to take the petrol price hikes each week we're at the mercy of the oil giants they are making a lot of dough from their clients they've got us over a barrel pardon the pun and we're running scared of their pistol packing petrol gun public transport is the best option for us to take at least that will not of our dollars forsake petrol prices are of the most dire concern and I can foresee our hard earned pennies set to burn

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. what's the difference between thieves, and magicians? not much... both have quick hands... and an awake, yet asleep public communal presence... the thief has a public of the victim, and the c.c.t.v. "stage"... the magician? has a public of the crowd, and the "dajjal" stage of a camera replenishing a concept of: not enough public... thieves and magicians are bedfellows... you allow one to flourish... the antithesis will come along, and in an indiscriminate fashion... allow the "magic" / "thieving" to take place... what is a magician, a public figure... compared... to a thief? i can't see the difference... the audience was fooled by the magician... the individual was fooled by the thief... are they... so much unlike each other? magicians can own a theater stage... thieves, sometimes... just sometimes... own the, basic... pointlessness of english c.c.t.v. mechanics, to make police officers make: a follow-up investigation... oh, but i have genius interrogation practices... no one wants to listen to... like 10 hours straights of listening to stefan molyneux... or 48 hours, sleep deprived... listening to BBC 24 hour news reels... that **** could crack anyone... what the americans did to the Iraqis? last time i heard... they blasted the slayer oeuvre down headphones into their ears... Americans... feeding conquered Iraqis with a slayer oeuvre? BRAVO! BRAVO! ENCORE! and didn't the encore come? ******* retards... crows feeding seagull chicks with sinew and regurgitated scavenger meat! if only they played them some Bach... i'm pretty sure... the Iraqis would still be left... disorientated... but the American army "interrogators"... ha ha! played them the slayer oeuvre! WEE-TARDS! anyone... and i mean anyone: will relieve themselves as being "tortured": doubly charged up, and ready to ingest hyper-coffee in the form of the Luftwaffe tactic of ingesting amphetamines (pervitin) - night-raids... the londoonoirnischt blitz, sloth krieg... ya ya yawn... urgh... burp... and always... those poncy - english, gay, aristocratic men... and their... psychotropic women... so what's the difference between a common thief... and a spectacle magician? one "owns" cctv footage, the other owns a stage... yet both share a: quicksilver take on, what cannot be interpreted in either handwriting or stenography... hmm... can't be sure whether both could be considered legal.

0

Jul 31, 2018

Jul 31, 2018 at 12:16 AM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

thieves & magicians

. what's the difference between thieves, and magicians? not much... both have quick hands... and an awake, yet asleep public communal presence... the thief has a public of the victim, and the c.c.t.v. "stage"... the magician? has a public of the crowd, and the "dajjal" stage of a camera replenishing a concept of: not enough public... thieves and magicians are bedfellows... you allow one to flourish... the antithesis will come along, and in an indiscriminate fashion... allow the "magic" / "thieving" to take place... what is a magician, a public figure... compared... to a thief? i can't see the difference... the audience was fooled by the magician... the individual was fooled by the thief... are they... so much unlike each other? magicians can own a theater stage... thieves, sometimes... just sometimes... own the, basic... pointlessness of english c.c.t.v. mechanics, to make police officers make: a follow-up investigation... oh, but i have genius interrogation practices... no one wants to listen to... like 10 hours straights of listening to stefan molyneux... or 48 hours, sleep deprived... listening to BBC 24 hour news reels... that **** could crack anyone... what the americans did to the Iraqis? last time i heard... they blasted the slayer oeuvre down headphones into their ears... Americans... feeding conquered Iraqis with a slayer oeuvre? BRAVO! BRAVO! ENCORE! and didn't the encore come? ******* retards... crows feeding seagull chicks with sinew and regurgitated scavenger meat! if only they played them some Bach... i'm pretty sure... the Iraqis would still be left... disorientated... but the American army "interrogators"... ha ha! played them the slayer oeuvre! WEE-TARDS! anyone... and i mean anyone: will relieve themselves as being "tortured": doubly charged up, and ready to ingest hyper-coffee in the form of the Luftwaffe tactic of ingesting amphetamines (pervitin) - night-raids... the londoonoirnischt blitz, sloth krieg... ya ya yawn... urgh... burp... and always... those poncy - english, gay, aristocratic men... and their... psychotropic women... so what's the difference between a common thief... and a spectacle magician? one "owns" cctv footage, the other owns a stage... yet both share a: quicksilver take on, what cannot be interpreted in either handwriting or stenography... hmm... can't be sure whether both could be considered legal.

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pouring myself over green candle magick my hands are the warm wands letting the healing eucalyptus fire seep into my throat chakra seep into the tulsi i’m brewing the california poppy herb. my olive leaf aligned in a tipped isosceles and your sound waves are melting the part of my stone wall that obscured self awareness. but now, if just for a few moments, i am awake. in the city it is the witching hour but in the cosmos it is no-time infinitytime time is a river making golden spiral waves i am replenishing the circles like ancient amber blueprints now fated by the stars to be built. poem for grimes ~~

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Oct 19, 2012

Oct 19, 2012 at 1:19 AM UTC

fellow moondaughter

pouring myself over green candle magick my hands are the warm wands letting the healing eucalyptus fire seep into my throat chakra seep into the tulsi i’m brewing the california poppy herb. my olive leaf aligned in a tipped isosceles and your sound waves are melting the part of my stone wall that obscured self awareness. but now, if just for a few moments, i am awake. in the city it is the witching hour but in the cosmos it is no-time infinitytime time is a river making golden spiral waves i am replenishing the circles like ancient amber blueprints now fated by the stars to be built. poem for grimes ~~

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Exemplify without try Each teacher bears the Burden of account, But the only way They carry it is with The strength of humility --The emptiness to learn, The fullness to teach-- And they do it without speaking, Flowing like a river Through a fountain --Ever depleting, Ever replenishing--

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Oct 6, 2014

Oct 6, 2014 at 2:47 AM UTC

Exemplify without try Each teacher bears the Burden of account, But the only way They carry it is with The strength of humility --The emptiness to learn, The fullness to teach-- And they do it without speaking, Flowing like a river Through a fountain --Ever depleting, Ever replenishing--

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a yellow fabric just as vibrant and brilliant as the golden tulips that grow in the banks of the fields in which innocence and laughter roams. A young woman cloaked in such material searched for that of her hearts content, a romance that would file suit in the realm of the books she would read. She was hopeful, and the springtime was her catalyst. The earth was replenishing, coming back to life, the tulips springing to life and the days were longer, the sun brighter and the clouds less dreary and forlorn. He skin was soft, untouched by that of another, but she wanted to change that. Her sheltered mind ached for the touch of a lover, a prince of sorts, and she'd wait for him, no matter the length of time, no matter the cost, no matter the physical or emotional transgressions. She'd wait alongside the tulips, alongside the budding of spring, the scorching of summer, the closing of fall, and the harboring of winter. She'd wait in her gown of yellow, just as vibrant as the tulips around her.

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Mar 4, 2018

Mar 4, 2018 at 11:42 AM UTC

; The Fabric of Tulips

a yellow fabric just as vibrant and brilliant as the golden tulips that grow in the banks of the fields in which innocence and laughter roams. A young woman cloaked in such material searched for that of her hearts content, a romance that would file suit in the realm of the books she would read. She was hopeful, and the springtime was her catalyst. The earth was replenishing, coming back to life, the tulips springing to life and the days were longer, the sun brighter and the clouds less dreary and forlorn. He skin was soft, untouched by that of another, but she wanted to change that. Her sheltered mind ached for the touch of a lover, a prince of sorts, and she'd wait for him, no matter the length of time, no matter the cost, no matter the physical or emotional transgressions. She'd wait alongside the tulips, alongside the budding of spring, the scorching of summer, the closing of fall, and the harboring of winter. She'd wait in her gown of yellow, just as vibrant as the tulips around her.

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Sleep sweetly there beside me In pre-dawn's lurid light A shaft that swirls with galaxies Too complex for my sight Motionless, I danced there In syncopated time Twisting to each heartbeat His silent, pulsing shine. Perfection; silent symphony Each lulling breath, a croon Rose petal lips parted in twain Would whisper secrets soon Sienna lashes shrouded Emerald youthful spheres that Sent me off to mountain sides Lush soil, pure and real. I loved the slumbering forest In warmth, in frost and rain And in each silent morning I yearn To whirl for him again. Original, un-rhymed notes When he slept I, motionless, Danced In the shaft of light with the dust motes Feeling each heart beat a syncopation for a wordless song a symphony made more perfect By the lull of air from his rose petal lips Sienna eyelashes hiding Replenishing fountains of youth. He had me thinking of the mountains, Of the earth, of the rich soil Of all things still and pure and beautiful.

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Dec 3, 2014

Dec 3, 2014 at 10:04 PM UTC

Motionless (The Dance)

Sleep sweetly there beside me In pre-dawn's lurid light A shaft that swirls with galaxies Too complex for my sight Motionless, I danced there In syncopated time Twisting to each heartbeat His silent, pulsing shine. Perfection; silent symphony Each lulling breath, a croon Rose petal lips parted in twain Would whisper secrets soon Sienna lashes shrouded Emerald youthful spheres that Sent me off to mountain sides Lush soil, pure and real. I loved the slumbering forest In warmth, in frost and rain And in each silent morning I yearn To whirl for him again. Original, un-rhymed notes When he slept I, motionless, Danced In the shaft of light with the dust motes Feeling each heart beat a syncopation for a wordless song a symphony made more perfect By the lull of air from his rose petal lips Sienna eyelashes hiding Replenishing fountains of youth. He had me thinking of the mountains, Of the earth, of the rich soil Of all things still and pure and beautiful.

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As we wander through the dunes rhythm, The blistering sun jaunts across, Exhibiting the elegance of the sanguine sands, A ravishing roots of colours, Whirling on the Sahara, The beautiful blue skies, Their true reflection, With delight we trail from audaghust to the inlands, In a waddling gait, The heavy luggages on humps, Are the loads of luxury bade by kumbi saleh, The camels and jockeys pride themselves in it flamboyant environs, And our thobes and keffiyeh makes merry, In the breeze of sacred grove trees, Mesmerizing the aesthetics of Arab architecture, Treking through the routes of Tjilmasa to Tehrent, In the comfort of the oases, Replenishing our thirst and fatigue, With benevolent breeze from palms and peaches, Glancing at the magnificent mirages pearls, We sight the atlas mountains, And its Maghreb, Caravan A Poem Written By, Historian E.Lexano ©March 8,2015

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Mar 24, 2015

Mar 24, 2015 at 11:26 AM UTC

As we wander through the dunes rhythm, The blistering sun jaunts across, Exhibiting the elegance of the sanguine sands, A ravishing roots of colours, Whirling on the Sahara, The beautiful blue skies, Their true reflection, With delight we trail from audaghust to the inlands, In a waddling gait, The heavy luggages on humps, Are the loads of luxury bade by kumbi saleh, The camels and jockeys pride themselves in it flamboyant environs, And our thobes and keffiyeh makes merry, In the breeze of sacred grove trees, Mesmerizing the aesthetics of Arab architecture, Treking through the routes of Tjilmasa to Tehrent, In the comfort of the oases, Replenishing our thirst and fatigue, With benevolent breeze from palms and peaches, Glancing at the magnificent mirages pearls, We sight the atlas mountains, And its Maghreb, Caravan A Poem Written By, Historian E.Lexano ©March 8,2015

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Kindness and love flows freely from your joyous being, Radiating with a luminescence bright and pleasing upon my soul Chasing away the ebbing darkness that threatens to engulf me And denies the seed of my salvation to grow Cascading words of rapture and merriment Pours from your lips like a waterfall Exciting and refreshing Washing away the loneliness Replenishing my dying pool of contentment. Endless rays of the mornings bright promise Reflect like diamonds in your eyes across my emotional wasteland Revitalizing the soil with new expectations and hope So that a new crop of pleasing feelings and thoughts Can take root and flourish within me. And your gentle hands Can reap the bountiful harvest That is my love.

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Jan 17, 2018

Jan 17, 2018 at 9:18 AM UTC

Sowing the seed of love

Kindness and love flows freely from your joyous being, Radiating with a luminescence bright and pleasing upon my soul Chasing away the ebbing darkness that threatens to engulf me And denies the seed of my salvation to grow Cascading words of rapture and merriment Pours from your lips like a waterfall Exciting and refreshing Washing away the loneliness Replenishing my dying pool of contentment. Endless rays of the mornings bright promise Reflect like diamonds in your eyes across my emotional wasteland Revitalizing the soil with new expectations and hope So that a new crop of pleasing feelings and thoughts Can take root and flourish within me. And your gentle hands Can reap the bountiful harvest That is my love.

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Deep is the heart of the Forest a sound stirs sending shivers of sorrow through the undergrowth to where wonderful willows wildly weep. Deep is the voice of the Forest its core carefully calling clipped chords through the luscious canopy to aptly announce an autumn abundance. Deep is the love of the Forest in light lancing little lazy legacy lines through the fresh downpour to relish rain rapidly replenishing roots. © Pagan Paul

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Jul 17, 2023

Jul 17, 2023 at 6:31 AM UTC

Deep is the heart of the Forest a sound stirs sending shivers of sorrow through the undergrowth to where wonderful willows wildly weep. Deep is the voice of the Forest its core carefully calling clipped chords through the luscious canopy to aptly announce an autumn abundance. Deep is the love of the Forest in light lancing little lazy legacy lines through the fresh downpour to relish rain rapidly replenishing roots. © Pagan Paul

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am i God's creation am i hell's son am i a peace treaty or am i a machine gun am i Machiavellian or am i dumb struck am i the music am i the fun am i the tears running down your cheeks am i unturned pages you are waiting to read am i the killer that struck your soul am i the love you wanna take in once more am i waters floating in your bath tub wil i make it replenishing or make you numb am i the cold weather that touches your skin am i hot water that runs down your chin am i the sovereign democratic country or am i the one still longing for freedom am i time ticking every second am i the crowd shouting for fandom am i the lips that you caress every day am i the ears that hear everything you say am i the pillow on which you sleep am i your heart that thumps every second it beats?

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Dec 2, 2013

Dec 2, 2013 at 2:14 AM UTC

am i God's creation am i hell's son am i a peace treaty or am i a machine gun am i Machiavellian or am i dumb struck am i the music am i the fun am i the tears running down your cheeks am i unturned pages you are waiting to read am i the killer that struck your soul am i the love you wanna take in once more am i waters floating in your bath tub wil i make it replenishing or make you numb am i the cold weather that touches your skin am i hot water that runs down your chin am i the sovereign democratic country or am i the one still longing for freedom am i time ticking every second am i the crowd shouting for fandom am i the lips that you caress every day am i the ears that hear everything you say am i the pillow on which you sleep am i your heart that thumps every second it beats?

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The first birds sang, Welcoming the morning light While simultaneously singing Goodnight to the moonlight Salutations from the crashing of tides, Waves lugubriously swaying Goodbye to the stars that died The moon has went away And now is the suns turn to play Clouds proficient and prompt Part ways for rays to shine through Grass meets the morning new With a sprinkled shower, Fresh droplets of dew An hour of rush, The breeze blows into town Shakes with the brush, The leaves tremble by the touch of the gust The shiny yellow toy in the sky Reveals itself and brings joy to the land Its common fellow Replenishing regards to the ground Once charred by lightning at large Flowers bustle to bloom, The scent of pollen Fills the wilderness room Rivers race frantically down stream, Until rindling off and becoming Unwildly mild Glistening glaciers gracefully Fall into the frigid frozen sea, Escalating to a depth where Only darkness can strive to be All that it can't see This is where quakes occur In the trenches of the mariana deep, And this happens All while I'm asleep

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Jul 18, 2013

Jul 18, 2013 at 2:08 PM UTC

shelby-hemstock

Good In The Mornin'

The first birds sang, Welcoming the morning light While simultaneously singing Goodnight to the moonlight Salutations from the crashing of tides, Waves lugubriously swaying Goodbye to the stars that died The moon has went away And now is the suns turn to play Clouds proficient and prompt Part ways for rays to shine through Grass meets the morning new With a sprinkled shower, Fresh droplets of dew An hour of rush, The breeze blows into town Shakes with the brush, The leaves tremble by the touch of the gust The shiny yellow toy in the sky Reveals itself and brings joy to the land Its common fellow Replenishing regards to the ground Once charred by lightning at large Flowers bustle to bloom, The scent of pollen Fills the wilderness room Rivers race frantically down stream, Until rindling off and becoming Unwildly mild Glistening glaciers gracefully Fall into the frigid frozen sea, Escalating to a depth where Only darkness can strive to be All that it can't see This is where quakes occur In the trenches of the mariana deep, And this happens All while I'm asleep

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Grass, beauty, Easter and art; the kind of grey skies that don't hurt your heart, the kind of rain that signals a new start - Spring is allowing your soul and your darkness to part. Remembering childhood memories you didn't know you forgot, Pastel coloured sweets that will make your teeth rot, Lovers going at it like bunnies without fear of getting caught, Spring is bringing clarity and serenity to your thoughts. Windows that crack open just enough to leak fresh air, with lilac blossom candles leaving a light scent that's barely there and there's something about the way you started wearing your hair... Spring is finally replenishing what winter left bare.

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Apr 22, 2014

Apr 22, 2014 at 7:53 PM UTC

Grass, beauty, Easter and art; the kind of grey skies that don't hurt your heart, the kind of rain that signals a new start - Spring is allowing your soul and your darkness to part. Remembering childhood memories you didn't know you forgot, Pastel coloured sweets that will make your teeth rot, Lovers going at it like bunnies without fear of getting caught, Spring is bringing clarity and serenity to your thoughts. Windows that crack open just enough to leak fresh air, with lilac blossom candles leaving a light scent that's barely there and there's something about the way you started wearing your hair... Spring is finally replenishing what winter left bare.

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