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"revitalized" poems
Light , curvy rays, bending, while traveling from air to water world. My eyelashes - window wipers. Crystalline lenses, sending lovely but blurry pictures wait.. let me focus my retina, underwater dream, or is it really you? Dark, straight silhouettes, frightening, falling from the busy water above My chest - darkened vents reaching far, wanting lovely, but faint pictures I can’t wait any longer, for the dark room to lighten I need you to show me I take a deep breath And dive in again. Debrees of scars And piercing pain. Your soul still mauve and blue. I press my lips respiring pure love into you. Breathe your best into the spine of my life Expelling fortitude And forgiveness Hidden in this deep blue Revitalized for the first time This moment opened its eyes to see the beauty of what beneath the surface lies
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Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 3:03 PM UTC
Underwater window (A collaborative with Dajena)
Cold hard sharpened blades cut deep grooves, biting forcefully into the icy sheet. Spinning and sliding and laughing Pushing one foot ahead, then the other, then the other, gliding effortlessly over the ice. A deep cold refreshing breath. Thrilled and revitalized with the smooth speed. While nothing lies ahead, a sinuous trail stalks. A thin film of water created only by the blades pressing firmly              upon the ice, melting and paving the way ahead. -AM
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Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 1:15 AM UTC
Pressure
Desires feeding our souls Gnawing and eating our flesh, until we're a vulnerable flush red Our pores exude the confident strife A conflict that should have never arrived To resurface our skin, bring back the childhood mind I still see the eight-year-old awkwardness, holding a staple makeshift poetry book and pen The young struggling mind, when dying was simple to find Daily I walk into the aroma of the sunlight Intricately snipping roses off their vines, soaking in their beauty as my fingers sting and bleed A decade incomplete She never stopped being a victim long enough to realize her heart was revitalized, made into an equal whole A rose petals thirst satisfied No insignificant being She was now a family
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Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 5:13 PM UTC
The woman in the flower sundress
The Doctor has a Sense of Humor! <|> give a surgeon a scalpel and an excuse, and the artist emerges, for creativity is a good surgeon’s natural habitat Sure, sure, there’s a plan, with best and acceptable outcomes, but when messing with a real heart, a sly ***** with numerous deceptive guises at its disposal, you never for sure never know, despite all the advanced imaging techniques, exactly what you will find once you go spelunking in caves of life and death so, he takes a bit from here, and a bob or two from there, there a cut, here an incision deep, Old McDonald provided a body, or a canvas, and the Doc is happy. So I uncover holes where he probed, redeploying the healthy, like a good designer, Doc rearranges and repairs, a travelogue of splicing and dicing, his handiwork Now standing over you for many hours, can get tiring, though each ***** be different, unique even, but leaving a little marker, a stylized signature, is well, is the rightful discretion of the artiste! So you can imagine my surprise when the tubes removed (ouch!) the bandages ripped off in a signature move of a delighted nurse whose loves seeing grown men cry from lesser trivialities, you cannot imagine my surprise when I discovered my new tattoo, upon my chest front and center! *Herein please find your heart repaired, and revitalized: Please Note! We guarantee our work for minimum 15 years (Aug. 3, 2038), but our disclaimer we assume NO  responsibility after that if you should happen to live for 30 YEARS or more* Dr. P.
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Sep 21, 2023
Sep 21, 2023 at 7:58 AM UTC
My Doctor has a Sense of Humor!
The Doctor has a Sense of Humor! <|> give a surgeon a scalpel and an excuse, and the artist emerges, for creativity is a good surgeon’s natural habitat Sure, sure, there’s a plan, with best and acceptable outcomes, but when messing with a real heart, a sly ***** with numerous deceptive guises at its disposal, you never for sure never know, despite all the advanced imaging techniques, exactly what you will find once you go spelunking in caves of life and death so, he takes a bit from here, and a bob or two from there, there a cut, here an incision deep, Old McDonald provided a body, or a canvas, and the Doc is happy. So I uncover holes where he probed, redeploying the healthy, like a good designer, Doc rearranges and repairs, a travelogue of splicing and dicing, his handiwork Now standing over you for many hours, can get tiring, though each ***** be different, unique even, but leaving a little marker, a stylized signature, is well, is the rightful discretion of the artiste! So you can imagine my surprise when the tubes removed (ouch!) the bandages ripped off in a signature move of a delighted nurse whose loves seeing grown men cry from lesser trivialities, you cannot imagine my surprise when I discovered my new tattoo, upon my chest front and center! *Herein please find your heart repaired, and revitalized: Please Note! We guarantee our work for minimum 15 years (Aug. 3, 2038), but our disclaimer we assume NO  responsibility after that if you should happen to live for 30 YEARS or more* Dr. P.
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51
I pull out your picture Smooth skin and hazel eyes Even in photographs they hypnotize Calling my name in whispers Pounding at my ***** Electric shocks to the groin Waking the senses Feeling revived Revitalized, alive There, ever unchanged Your gaze upon mine Motionless, emotionless Frozen, in time When you realized I was she Perfection Unwavering An alternate reality Returning affection A two way street of romantic love Unseen. Unnoticed. Unrealized Yet real just the same Innocent, unthinking With no one to blame Knowing you want me That you always did Nothing but glimpses Of an awkward kid Turned man Turned desire Lascivious by design Liquifying resistance Wasting no time A bit of shy A hint of coy Vanish all remnants Of that innocent boy By the light of the screen I lay here Alone Feeling the heat of you Making me moan Desire unabated I finish unsated Abusing your picture In ways you condone
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Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 8:44 AM UTC
pictogram (spoken word)
*As the crystal-clear freshwater trickles steadily off the glazy rocks, The sound replenishes my soul with vitality - on my heart, serenity, it knocks. As the dying rusty leaves float along the heavenly stream, My peace-filled mind goes off into a beautiful, sweet daydream. I ponder over recollections of all the precious magical moments that together we have both shared over the years, All of the memories we have made - all of the beautiful words he spoke, they were all remedies, conquering all of my fears. The struggles and the challenges, together, we took them all on, Hope, love and faith were the tools we both used, hand-in-hand, to rid them and have them all vanish and be forever gone. As the birds flutter in the branches of the giant trees above my head, In my mind, like a delicate melody, I hear all of the beautiful words he has said to me over the course of our lives together, as far back as the day we met - before we wed. Like the crystal-clear freshwater rushing down the heavenly stream, All of the amazing moments and the not forgotten good times flood my beautiful sweet daydream. And once again, revitalized by the serenity of the heavenly peaceful creek, the incredible amount of love I feel for him increases once more, My undying love is born again, I am to be in love with my beautiful man infinitely - forevermore. By Lady R.F ©2017*
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Jan 31, 2017
Jan 31, 2017 at 10:10 PM UTC
A Beautiful Sweet Daydream
his star is on the rise again he's the king of the fairways and greens he has revitalized the golfing game he holds the number one position he's the premier player of the world his fans are really wrapped his name is in all the sports pages he's back to slay his rivals
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Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 7:12 PM UTC
Tiger Woods (Sports Poem)
To become aware of the single moment that needs interpreting To be jolted from sleep between sheets creased in the tribulations of dreamscapes Clammy hand pressed to neck you remember yourself And before it slips and crumbles spiraling up to the cosmos it is captured Pinch your eyes together and draw the cool water from the well A friend’s arm around your shoulder; a sweaty smile, meandering through The crowds of faces, each one drab and still, motionless for you Tendrils of tenderness wandering o’er a body consumed in secret greed and corrosion And the cheeky faced attached returning curiosity masked in love Flitting up and down the stem of the one you knew to be yours Yearning for her to open her petals and reward arduous labor The repose of correcting ages of missteps and the satisfaction of Correctly placing lost experience Enjoying the rhythm pounded out by drums of progress, and then pacing To one all your own Reasserting brutal individuality in spite of legions upon legions of conformity Then ironically setting the trend Once seized, every vague trapping melts down weary head, past hunched back Beyond knees bend to reach toe tip Revitalized by the comfortable shade of your whole self, the parts unwanted, unseen Usurped, intangible, inconceivable, and most illustrated purely glow A self if surely sacked, a reanimated soul now softly speaks, and sexuality is assured in Each slow step
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Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 2:45 PM UTC
Self_Actualization
It was Saturday, And you said God was with us. So, we drove as fast as possible- Into blistering orange and purple, Into the death of the sun. Because we knew he was, just as well as wasn’t. There was sweat on your chest, And on mine two black handprints of mud. You called me your Apache warrior. I made fierce stabs at sol, spears tipped with glass. I did not **** the fire, only scared him away for a cycle. In ecstasy you asked if I’d like some- Fearful to step past my father’s drugs I shrugged you a no. Sold you the same line from dreams before. I don’t like being in heaven and hell at the same time. To which you replied with hollow eyes to hell with heaven. And together we cried ponds in the parking lot of Wal-Mart. Beseeching the dams not hold, Hoping we could wash it all clean. It was Sunday, And you said that god was dead- We danced in the street, maniacs, Exposed flesh and drumming war cries. Busted open the fire hydrant and nursed, Hysterical for love and peaceful tomorrows, Crusaders of regrettable intentions. And then your mother called and you had to run off to church. During this fifth year you were enlightened. Many people feel that upon reading a book or two. Labeled me wrong, you of course playing the protagonist - I didn’t see it that way. I wasn’t keeping any type of score. Still bear chested, scowling at king sun, Howling to mother moon, dressed in pale luminous silk, Knowing she would never howl back. With duly noted precautionary tales in mind I set forth- To coastal plains lush with life, Trees hiding the cityscape. Stars sending light at a glacial pace, Eroding corneal muck. You had left three sheets to the wind, And I was inside my own mind without. Skies bled crimson heat, Leached from me that passion that once held steadfast And it was pleasant at best. But, I am no martyr. Revitalized in my own indulgences, Slept till Saturday when you returned- The world making right again.
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Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 2:09 PM UTC
"Howling to Mother Moon"
It was Saturday, And you said God was with us. So, we drove as fast as possible- Into blistering orange and purple, Into the death of the sun. Because we knew he was, just as well as wasn’t. There was sweat on your chest, And on mine two black handprints of mud. You called me your Apache warrior. I made fierce stabs at sol, spears tipped with glass. I did not **** the fire, only scared him away for a cycle. In ecstasy you asked if I’d like some- Fearful to step past my father’s drugs I shrugged you a no. Sold you the same line from dreams before. I don’t like being in heaven and hell at the same time. To which you replied with hollow eyes to hell with heaven. And together we cried ponds in the parking lot of Wal-Mart. Beseeching the dams not hold, Hoping we could wash it all clean. It was Sunday, And you said that god was dead- We danced in the street, maniacs, Exposed flesh and drumming war cries. Busted open the fire hydrant and nursed, Hysterical for love and peaceful tomorrows, Crusaders of regrettable intentions. And then your mother called and you had to run off to church. During this fifth year you were enlightened. Many people feel that upon reading a book or two. Labeled me wrong, you of course playing the protagonist - I didn’t see it that way. I wasn’t keeping any type of score. Still bear chested, scowling at king sun, Howling to mother moon, dressed in pale luminous silk, Knowing she would never howl back. With duly noted precautionary tales in mind I set forth- To coastal plains lush with life, Trees hiding the cityscape. Stars sending light at a glacial pace, Eroding corneal muck. You had left three sheets to the wind, And I was inside my own mind without. Skies bled crimson heat, Leached from me that passion that once held steadfast And it was pleasant at best. But, I am no martyr. Revitalized in my own indulgences, Slept till Saturday when you returned- The world making right again.
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49
An unknown direction on a day rising with renewed energy renewed vitality so much potential. Taking that direction of mind over matter with retooled perception toward revitalized perfection. Taking that direction promotes deeper reflection searching the soul avoiding the role of misguided rejection. Keep the direction going keep the mind knowing keep the energy flowing keep achievement showing. ~Miguel
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Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 11:37 AM UTC
Charting The Course
I collect all the pieces of continuous reminiscence From a space that will never be replaced nor decay in time It remains entombed, tranquil, and sublime Locked away in my mind Revitalized Infinitely
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Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 5:05 PM UTC
Resurrection
Wisps of fog dragged upon the ground, as errant raindrops bided gray time. Eyes fixed afield, sharing an inertness that revitalized our gray matter. Robins and blackbirds scattered their weightless will upon the damp field. As nearly imperceptible twinges of sunlight interrupted the air, then vanished. This occurred in confidences, everytime the sunlight gained upon itself. The fog began burning off in decrepid scraps...put asunder by the field's thundering anticipation. The fog was lifted to spring's hierarchies of light...as blackbirds electrified puddles in a flurry of wings. Spraying droplets of water adorning the sunlight, then flying to a favored branch shaking dry. Eyes fixed afield, I was showered below by accolades of rebirth.
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Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 8:52 AM UTC
Accolades of Rebirth
The colours of a mirror are foggy, but lucid I don’t see my reflection, But colours of a girl I remember being Dark purples and greys, she’s bruised and scarred Shards of glass line her hollowed out, bloodshot eyes Ghostly pale, she’s barely alive I watch as she transforms before me Her colours are metamorphosis and she’s the revitalized butterfly The greys and purples swirl into blues and whites She’s stepping out of the shadow of who she was The colours of the mirror are brighter, more vivid I recognize this girl The colours are clearly defined I see shades of blues of sensibility and confidence She’s stronger and exuding life The colours of a mirror are the colours of honesty I see my reflection Not the girl I was But the girl I am.
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Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 8:03 PM UTC
the colours of a mirror
Sunlight brings clarity. Opening eyes. New day. I sense you all around me. Pleasant pieces of twirling thoughts cascading like warm summer floods in and through me. These are my collections of you. My moments of completeness to know that you have revitalized the dormant cords of happiness I can aspire to. With glances back, I again return to the time we first met. Children really, though we thought ourselves old. Innocent and wise. Correct and rebellious. Losing touch, as happens with so many teenage alliances. To now, as adults. With open smiles that puts us back to where we began. Thank you.
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Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 9:58 AM UTC
Opening Eyes
That little trumpet has lost sound Go ahead and ask around Picked up in a house I found Nesting on the burial ground. Contorted notes filled the room After a dusting with the broom False promise joined in soon. Perched upon a dim lit flume The night slipped by, no refrain It blasted on through the pouring rain Howled on in the excruciating pain Of having sheltered existence through a life in vain When daylight came, it was still the same Brass with no name, playing for a dame Really quite the shame, an ever-growing flame Held within a picture frame, was a revitalized search for fame As darkness came, I grew tired Felt like it was about time I retired Set down the trumpet I acquired And left the shack feeling quite expired There that little trumpet lost sound Now there’s no need to ask around Left it in the house I found Somewhat near the burial ground.
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Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 3:45 PM UTC
A Motel Painting
Sturdy as the mighty oak, I withstood drought, deluge, dishevelment, deliverance my once vibrant leaves became crisp, shattered, scattered, veins crumbled, crumpled all that was left ... gnarled old roughened bark revitalized, I am now trod, that old tree, sawed, sanded, slatted, varnished to perfection, reflection of owner's pride, care is given to keep me supple, strong ... cover me not; let my beauty shine, sparkle and please all who see me In the vast oaken families of ancestors, descendents, those yet to root, while our beauty be ****** out of rich soil to praise the God who created us we joy in our present, treasure our past.
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Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 11:49 PM UTC
Ancestral present
Lets put the starts to shame as we light up underneath them Lets go for a hike and get as lost in nature as we are in each other Lets dare each other to climb a little higher because we both know the fall is nothing to be afraid of Become a time keeper, speed up a moment just so you can take pleasure in slowing it down Put on your explorer hat so you can take the time to map every part of me out I will do the same, excited to smooth out your surface like a love letter that’s been creased and un creased relentlessly Let me unfold you Lets jump into cold water to feel revitalized, just like you feel when my cold hands seek your warm body Lets be fearless, as in no heartbeats that turn into birds surrounded by ribcages that shrink in around it.. But more like drums whos beat leads to endless dancing and spiritual growth. Let’s fall in love. Lets be better than any love story you have heard of, lets brag about how lucky we are to be existing together in a moment. Bring out my over competitive side, make me lose so I can realize that is impossible… because reality is about perception and if I have you I can only win Whisper, sweet something’s because sweet nothings can be for the girls that were before me. Lets be substance… be moral be wild crazy and alive. Let’s be young. Let’s be that romantic element others search an eternity for, and let’s make it easy. Easy like breathing, like taking in your air… lets fit together like we are proof in creation; even if it doesn’t exist we can still create something beautiful. Lets make this important, lets.
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Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 8:56 PM UTC
let's
Lets put the starts to shame as we light up underneath them Lets go for a hike and get as lost in nature as we are in each other Lets dare each other to climb a little higher because we both know the fall is nothing to be afraid of Become a time keeper, speed up a moment just so you can take pleasure in slowing it down Put on your explorer hat so you can take the time to map every part of me out I will do the same, excited to smooth out your surface like a love letter that’s been creased and un creased relentlessly Let me unfold you Lets jump into cold water to feel revitalized, just like you feel when my cold hands seek your warm body Lets be fearless, as in no heartbeats that turn into birds surrounded by ribcages that shrink in around it.. But more like drums whos beat leads to endless dancing and spiritual growth. Let’s fall in love. Lets be better than any love story you have heard of, lets brag about how lucky we are to be existing together in a moment. Bring out my over competitive side, make me lose so I can realize that is impossible… because reality is about perception and if I have you I can only win Whisper, sweet something’s because sweet nothings can be for the girls that were before me. Lets be substance… be moral be wild crazy and alive. Let’s be young. Let’s be that romantic element others search an eternity for, and let’s make it easy. Easy like breathing, like taking in your air… lets fit together like we are proof in creation; even if it doesn’t exist we can still create something beautiful. Lets make this important, lets.
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13
the unbroken in the air flowing sprinkles universe, earth and trees chrysoprase of the land the unbroken in the water flowing soften the stony,  tamed the beasts rhodonite of the mountains the unbroken inhabits the earth soil fertiled, flowers bloomed its grace cease insecurities the unbroken in the air flowing sync yellow n blue, yin n yang engendered the earth the unbroken in the water flowing rage calms, exhausted nerves revitalized prisoners unchained, free'n blockages the unbroken flowing universe stands serum of the earth the energy flowing within and without the unbroken
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May 18, 2017
May 18, 2017 at 2:01 AM UTC
the unbroken
I found chalk on the holding of sky shimmers, then I composed   on the blank spaces that where echoes of what was drawn in memories of yesterdays dreams. Barren slate needed the imagination, woven between fingers streaming across an arborealis of creativity. I am the drawer of dreams that were colourless and now fill a void. I outlined the slumbering's of what were just blank smudges. Now revitalized, I'm within this moment, a collage of colourful wishes that I created before I look smiling, tomorrows imaginings drawn again.
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Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 7:03 PM UTC
Old Chalk Boards
And, what the **** did you expect of me? I'm sorry. Pardon my french... I can't help but cuss, when these mother ******* got me pressed Ill be fine after this commerical break, But until then, Let me lay your facts straight. Need I not remind you, It was our first date the moment I said I was obsessed with love I heard your chest scream Your eyes spoke of forever Your sternoclaydo mastodon pulsated Like orange juice after a blood drive... ***** I revitalized you. I think you got the  script wrong Wipe ur frames down, I'll put this very slowly, now Your love for me burned so hot, it was no longer a fire, but wild. You smothered me. You wanted to watch my flames dance, But only under your command My love is rotten? Spoiled? Selfish? When out of the two of us, you just wanted me to yourself? Your own insecurities is what made your inferiority become true, maybe that's why your eyes burn, You never accepted who I was. My spirit knows no bounds. Your spirit, wasn't fast enough. Respectfully, you bowed out. You ignorant mother ****** you did not know a **** thing of me I guess I'm mad, I thought you did Pure love is not of possession, Instead, to be greatful for every cent spent My presence is a luxury, Did I make you feel inferior? To feel as though you almost could afford it? **** Right! One last thought, before I go. Women are mother Earth incarnate Chaotic creatures, Who never seem to lose. Do you think you're upset, because deep down, you knew, you bite off more than you could chew?
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Dec 30, 2017
Dec 30, 2017 at 6:56 PM UTC
Ghost Pain
And, what the **** did you expect of me? I'm sorry. Pardon my french... I can't help but cuss, when these mother ******* got me pressed Ill be fine after this commerical break, But until then, Let me lay your facts straight. Need I not remind you, It was our first date the moment I said I was obsessed with love I heard your chest scream Your eyes spoke of forever Your sternoclaydo mastodon pulsated Like orange juice after a blood drive... ***** I revitalized you. I think you got the  script wrong Wipe ur frames down, I'll put this very slowly, now Your love for me burned so hot, it was no longer a fire, but wild. You smothered me. You wanted to watch my flames dance, But only under your command My love is rotten? Spoiled? Selfish? When out of the two of us, you just wanted me to yourself? Your own insecurities is what made your inferiority become true, maybe that's why your eyes burn, You never accepted who I was. My spirit knows no bounds. Your spirit, wasn't fast enough. Respectfully, you bowed out. You ignorant mother ****** you did not know a **** thing of me I guess I'm mad, I thought you did Pure love is not of possession, Instead, to be greatful for every cent spent My presence is a luxury, Did I make you feel inferior? To feel as though you almost could afford it? **** Right! One last thought, before I go. Women are mother Earth incarnate Chaotic creatures, Who never seem to lose. Do you think you're upset, because deep down, you knew, you bite off more than you could chew?
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47
I carried the weight of your eyes In my heart. Every beat grows stronger as your Glare pierces Through the opaque stone with in me
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Apr 21, 2013
Apr 21, 2013 at 11:08 PM UTC
Revitalized
I crave to feel the pangs of anxiety fill my fleshy veins Hastily they induce brief, jolting, electric, waves of tenderness I am revitalized like cracked lips to a water drenched cloth Suckeling the remnants of satisfaction Ravenously the addiction sets in and swarms the empty worlds in between my teeth Words filling them in as the deceit spreads I am diseased and bewildered, I ache for the hazardous It’s the lust and temptation of the night I fear will fade away Bare white mountainous knuckles gripping to the guileless lucid ideas of serendipitous romances Surrendering to the howl whilst giving in to the bittersweet and otherworldly seductions of marrow Scraping pieces of the exceptions with a fine tuned whistle and blow deep into my mind's havoc I’ve desired the ever changing hands of he to fool me perpetually Unfamiliar lips in shapes and sizes fill my ears with ceaseless notions Rippling soul shuddering vibrations as if they were the whispers of past lovers There is no you definitively Roaming vivaciously in darkened walkways Sore blistering hands reach palms up beaten sweaty, uninhibited, and cool Etching each tick of the patron clock into my skin, grimacing as the moments slip For when the hue of the lunar’s menace gleam is no longer near Tomorrow night you will be a different you Tenderly forgiving the infractions of dusk’s wicked mystic As l walk past immortalized shadows down by the sea to meet another hue
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Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 3:51 PM UTC
Human Connection
(the drug cos. have invented this, tablet, capsule, even injectable; but the pharma cabal says no to all, who know & ask for a public release) |~| For A Kiss That Lasts All Week it will cure most illnesses, and what’s the point in that? you will just have to learn it with practice, practice & tactics no need to hurry, play with the concept, roll it over the tongue, ready for overseas deployment said tongue, the tongue now the advance force close your eyes focus on the overwhelming (says the now all powerful Wizard of Lips) those underestimated sensors of the lips, too oft disdained in a overhurrief hurricane rush to the “big n’ better “ orifices, and the slow luxury of the tingly uttering of WOW~ shooting through you to the parts of you suddenly rewoked & now revoked from the quietude of functional boredom and think but do not speak *** *** o m g, this is the fountain of youth, the revitalized cellular generation, the speeding up of the flow of blood to places long forgot, allowing the heart to pump its gifts to the deadened spots, reawakening the invisible soul that we all have in common so: get to “work”
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Oct 13, 2024
Oct 13, 2024 at 12:52 PM UTC
A Kiss That Lasts All Week