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"saliently" poems
I An orange overcast this evening splayed pink hues stripes and saccharine beads. The twilight caricatures live golden years. Restless becoming in the garden of her drunken sons their flowers soaked in brass, seams bursting in uncontrollable laughter we pause. To admire the briefness of that era exploding its petals peppering spraying saliently we spill indoors churning across tabletops. My arms hang dead by my sides. Her eyes gaping sway swiftly biting deeply the dottedfaces lurch. Streets fall unconditional amidst tears we comb lips sharply distinctly her stubborn *** stumbling handles loosening she holds my hand my arms hang dead we pause.        II Children babble sunlight across lawns; I hear sirens traffic icecream nips our tongues twinge on windless pipes gust our hair flying smiling at laughter  from the playground behind us. Placid smiles stain enamoured halls; for glimpses we mumble necks crooked sheets flap  draped over bars her eyes waver glisten shiver. A warm breeze dries my hair. III Wallowing I oscillate utmost trep- -idation entangling grappling but hushed beneath foliage eyes downturned soil clings when her fingers impress deeper through to where rivers end. Glowing dawn I turn further lighter almost her hair caught between the floors; gently feverish we see turgid lines the tinniest cracks we pray on tranquil mornings. Window panes blemished it was spring only darker from deafened rivers throbbing; under lucid eyes I fold and heralds blare. We consume the silence sounding from still lakes.
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Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 9:22 PM UTC
an orange overcast this evening
I An orange overcast this evening splayed pink hues stripes and saccharine beads. The twilight caricatures live golden years. Restless becoming in the garden of her drunken sons their flowers soaked in brass, seams bursting in uncontrollable laughter we pause. To admire the briefness of that era exploding its petals peppering spraying saliently we spill indoors churning across tabletops. My arms hang dead by my sides. Her eyes gaping sway swiftly biting deeply the dottedfaces lurch. Streets fall unconditional amidst tears we comb lips sharply distinctly her stubborn *** stumbling handles loosening she holds my hand my arms hang dead we pause.        II Children babble sunlight across lawns; I hear sirens traffic icecream nips our tongues twinge on windless pipes gust our hair flying smiling at laughter  from the playground behind us. Placid smiles stain enamoured halls; for glimpses we mumble necks crooked sheets flap  draped over bars her eyes waver glisten shiver. A warm breeze dries my hair. III Wallowing I oscillate utmost trep- -idation entangling grappling but hushed beneath foliage eyes downturned soil clings when her fingers impress deeper through to where rivers end. Glowing dawn I turn further lighter almost her hair caught between the floors; gently feverish we see turgid lines the tinniest cracks we pray on tranquil mornings. Window panes blemished it was spring only darker from deafened rivers throbbing; under lucid eyes I fold and heralds blare. We consume the silence sounding from still lakes.
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The immediate introversion, A safe solitude. Alone and alive. Lacking loneliness, At this disturbing depth, Unlike the saliently superficial. The calming confusion Relaxes and reassures. Defiantly deliberate, And thoroughly thoughtful. Marvelously mesmerized By my continuous contemplation. Overtly observant, And insightfully introspective. Fiercely focused On building and bettering. I meticulously memorialize, And succinctly summarize, My lavish love, For being Alone and alive.
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Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 4:45 PM UTC
Alone & Alive
It’s a Saturday afternoon worth waiting for. It’s 52°f and the sky is clear except for a scattering of popcorn clouds. I’m eating lunch with Sophy, Lisa, Anna (my roommates) and Peter (a friend) at one of the two residential dining halls that have the best pizza (yeah, you KNOW who you are). We’re touching base before we scatter, shrapnel like, for the night. I’ll be hemmed-up by circumstance and in my most diligent work-mode. I have a presentation due Monday. Sophy says, reading from at her laptop, “Research suggests that cat owners are seen as better looking and have more *** “I have two cats,” I say, “at home.” I preen in my double-catness. “I’m a cat owner!” Anna announces. “My cat DIED.” Lisa reveals sadly. “THAT cat did its JOB,” Sophy pronounced saliently, as if proving the studies validity. “I grew up in a cat house,” Peter says. “Ooo! YOU must have learned a LOT!” I say, batting my eyes seductively. “Maybe we should get a cat HERE!” Sophy suggests. “To cement our status!” Anna laughs. The pizza was really good.
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Apr 4, 2022
Apr 4, 2022 at 8:29 AM UTC
catness
knees go weak summer very smile spUrts over: two legs, skinny hips, a mile of stomach, daintily ******* neck and a chin(also)above sprouts a nose nice how it flush face with saliently bursts ivory white 'neath limpid fissures of greenly sharp roundness (eyes)that flutter, held by cheeks as smooth and innocently as driven snow sparkles just a bit in the summer between the **** hillocks of my thighs a mouth pristinely admits me
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Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 9:39 PM UTC
knees go weak summer very smile
I heard the first sound of silence since I fed their secret string in secret to the old maw calmly promising deliverance in exchange for cohesion by way of senseless adherence. While I was calm -- While I was calm Silence saliently sailed from me They set their course to the distant edge, so far, the flat Earth anxiously appeared very real, certainly sang and said "Should you continue raising white flags I shall continue blending until you lose the volume and you never hear me." For the first time since the last time, I rode the shallows through the violet night on trembling shadows in low light, in low light in silence I shot a signal flare from my breast, wide to receive the worst solitary reflection Ready to be quiet, invite my vibes to drive in disparate directions
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Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 6:41 PM UTC
Proper Opulence| 4. In Hushed Vibrations
Betwixt words, lines, Poetry's music fathoms The depths of our heart, The heights of our intellect And imagination, Breadth of our spirit, Well of our soul, Alluding to the unknown, Saliently.  For, the muse But whispers, silently, Moving in mysterious ways. Painting's music? Inexpressible and felt, Unknowable and experienced, Of echoing images, silences. Even the shadow Speaks of the light.
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Apr 29, 2019
Apr 29, 2019 at 10:48 PM UTC
Musings
As an oak will not grow in another's shadow, so too our struggles, solutioning with reality while as one and three, a couple in harmony, must also be independent to whatever degree. Thus, being as water, yin, and as air, yang, we find a dance gestured by seasons of romance. The choreographer's mind's path undefined, like last moment's awe makes way for this one's. A canvas with frameless frame and reality as the brush painting us, even it's shadows speak of light. Beingness as gleaned meanings for all to share, seen through, if we were there. A cacaphony, symphony heralding song of the Universe, Earth and spheres. From adagio, staccato, through to avante-garde. Life sung accompanying the abundance of joy's Spring. As poetry's music fathoms the depths of our heart, heights of our intellect and imagination, breadth of our spirit, well of our soul, alluding to the unknown saliently. Also, climate crisis demands a bond of Earthlings stronger than ever before, and he or she must be at the fore', if they want their progeny community, partner, humanity to even live.
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Jan 2, 2020
Jan 2, 2020 at 1:03 PM UTC
illimitable potential, indivisible as life, one that's never two
A silence, saliently insisting on its one day of reign, Reminding you to reflect before you act, To think beyond what you could gain. We look back at our ancestors, Recalcitrant in the face of the British, the French; We praise their heroics, remember them in feasts, Yet still, we are divided, brawling like beasts. Against the oppressor, we stood united; A colonised nation, struggling for identity. Master-less we finally became, celebrating independence; Yet now, we have subverted to sadist deference. Men in sharp suits and their slimy, convincing faces; They like to think they hold all the aces, That they can and will divide and conquer all of the planet’s open spaces. They tell us what to think, what to feel, what to do, what to vote, They’ll tell you when to swim or when to sink, When to squeal and how to heal, What is true when you don’t have a clue, And what to quote when you want to sound profound. They are snivelling, Rolex-wielding, aftershave-wearing ******** with an arrogant bearing, And they have no issues with asking you about why the **** you’re glaring. So, I suppose, today there's not much choice; There is a snarling wolf on one hand, And an angry bear on the other. When your choice is that bad, Why should you even bother? 'By any means necessary', Malcolm X would say. There seems to be no solution, Excepting a call for armed revolution. Anarchists and troublemakers, unite; Time to take down the state, Like cutting the line to a kite.
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Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 5:00 AM UTC
The Electorate [02/06/17]
A silence, saliently insisting on its one day of reign, Reminding you to reflect before you act, To think beyond what you could gain. We look back at our ancestors, Recalcitrant in the face of the British, the French; We praise their heroics, remember them in feasts, Yet still, we are divided, brawling like beasts. Against the oppressor, we stood united; A colonised nation, struggling for identity. Master-less we finally became, celebrating independence; Yet now, we have subverted to sadist deference. Men in sharp suits and their slimy, convincing faces; They like to think they hold all the aces, That they can and will divide and conquer all of the planet’s open spaces. They tell us what to think, what to feel, what to do, what to vote, They’ll tell you when to swim or when to sink, When to squeal and how to heal, What is true when you don’t have a clue, And what to quote when you want to sound profound. They are snivelling, Rolex-wielding, aftershave-wearing ******** with an arrogant bearing, And they have no issues with asking you about why the **** you’re glaring. So, I suppose, today there's not much choice; There is a snarling wolf on one hand, And an angry bear on the other. When your choice is that bad, Why should you even bother? 'By any means necessary', Malcolm X would say. There seems to be no solution, Excepting a call for armed revolution. Anarchists and troublemakers, unite; Time to take down the state, Like cutting the line to a kite.
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