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"seemless" poems
A beautiful soul, so lost in the haze. Only ever gifted, dirt, grit, and graves. You fight for your passions, and breath your beliefs. Your voice is so boundless, seemless, unique! The trials are endless,  the outcome seems bleak. Yet you have something to hold onto, and something you seek. This challenge won't be the last, but when it's complete. There will not be a single foe, you cannot defeat. With this being said, and fortunes being read. I'll ask, how do you feel? And If you, being here, feeling, breathing this air, is even ******* real? Then i have no questions, and I need not answer. And without any qualms, we can't create cancer. But without random deaths, how can we live? and with no sense of love, why would one give? Just find out what made you, the way that you are. Then no one can tell you, that you've gone too far. To far from your goals, to far from your dreams. These "outlandish ideas" aren't as far as they seem. So keep it in close, this love for your art. And never stop feeding, the beat in your heart.
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May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 11:03 PM UTC
A Beautiful Soul
A created moral aspect of human awareness imbedded deep within the hearts and minds of mankind. Who's sympathetic to the pain and suffering of others, aspirating the need to reach forward with compassion. Feeling the sorrows of the poverty stricken and the ill afflicted soul as one struggle to extend his hands in alms while his strength quickly diminishes. Even the impiety of the ungodly, feels the remorse of the neglected, has they take sight of a weak child who struggle to place a grain of rice into her savoring mouth. While the tears of one who's compassionate, are channel through his ducts, forming a matrix of a salty saline solution that falls like the morning dew from a leaf. The life around her fragile body falls dramatically as she watches her under nourish flesh wrap around her tiny bones while holding on to a seemless life that holds no promise. A vulture wait patiently with anticipation and eagerness for carrion, as her emaciated body collapse in preparation to sleep soundly in the afterlife. By no means shall you attain righteousness unless you give of that which you love and whatever you give, of a truth, God is all knowing.
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May 1, 2012
May 1, 2012 at 3:07 AM UTC
Compassion
spelling backwards through time, stroke by blurry stroke a maiden's coal-black hair regales the flattery from her lips... and so the doom -- and boon of a crimson warrior's arm -- was drawn from speech a flame, and kindled mind to burn away for lust, one speaker fed and doubly fraught by goddess's invention brought to give away his name and trust, for doppelgangers' games and beauty to consent~ that trollish abysm our aching selfhood deems unworthy, war can celebrate: iconic genius symbol may encourage, it may remembrance windows of our history~ but only breath, and inner sight so keen on solid strength of living fact can triumph in the plain! some semblance of an older wisdom strains to orate still, and lust itself afar, but brawn and tested fibrous body build must turn the page of time; and this, to know the truth withstood that vision of a perfect youth forever, one start and line without an end, a floating dance of pulling under waves that never waves as being surely does like no ancient-honest country-prophet ever saw-- thus, remnants of the wisdom from a fallen mind; and so he fell to her and had not her for long... she had a wider window, immortal panes, this temptress suppleness of limb to shock and shake the bones of foolish learning, that thinks itself imbued with everlasting fame. it was a mossy light of eyelash shine and sheen to woo the wisdom out, electric sense to lure the hapless sap into a brutish trap: to learn alone the atheletes pathos, relearn the heart-race from a chest of seemless vigour, from lungs of endless winds and legs of trunkish growth the channels and the prism of an empty skull instead of learned ships and foolish mimes of finer times-- he does the bidding of her will. .
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Aug 7, 2012
Aug 7, 2012 at 5:46 PM UTC
trollish idiocy after good *** a medieval trade and mythos
spelling backwards through time, stroke by blurry stroke a maiden's coal-black hair regales the flattery from her lips... and so the doom -- and boon of a crimson warrior's arm -- was drawn from speech a flame, and kindled mind to burn away for lust, one speaker fed and doubly fraught by goddess's invention brought to give away his name and trust, for doppelgangers' games and beauty to consent~ that trollish abysm our aching selfhood deems unworthy, war can celebrate: iconic genius symbol may encourage, it may remembrance windows of our history~ but only breath, and inner sight so keen on solid strength of living fact can triumph in the plain! some semblance of an older wisdom strains to orate still, and lust itself afar, but brawn and tested fibrous body build must turn the page of time; and this, to know the truth withstood that vision of a perfect youth forever, one start and line without an end, a floating dance of pulling under waves that never waves as being surely does like no ancient-honest country-prophet ever saw-- thus, remnants of the wisdom from a fallen mind; and so he fell to her and had not her for long... she had a wider window, immortal panes, this temptress suppleness of limb to shock and shake the bones of foolish learning, that thinks itself imbued with everlasting fame. it was a mossy light of eyelash shine and sheen to woo the wisdom out, electric sense to lure the hapless sap into a brutish trap: to learn alone the atheletes pathos, relearn the heart-race from a chest of seemless vigour, from lungs of endless winds and legs of trunkish growth the channels and the prism of an empty skull instead of learned ships and foolish mimes of finer times-- he does the bidding of her will. .
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[for Joe Cole's prompt] ~~~ Grain of sand? I have no remembrance of me being a grain of sand. All I can tell you about is this me you can see: this glassy transparence, a melted me, metamorphosed by fire. Seemless frontier, I can't but to split daring to reach the other side. Grief, from this sandy longing? Yes, you may say that's me.
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Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 8:36 PM UTC
SiO2
Coiling round the telephone wire. Seemless, where does one meet The other's end? Incessant ramblings into the answer machine. Nothing, speaking with heavy eyes Call me If you get this?
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May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 12:49 PM UTC
Untitled
I would be amiss Iffen I were to dismiss What a seemless bliss What a lie is this To pretend that I don't miss Our soft and gentle.... Silence on my lips Though my heart's Gaurd lay remiss A good man's premiss My soul beckons, "Bis" I guess what I'm saying is Wonderful was our....
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Jul 22, 2017
Jul 22, 2017 at 3:29 AM UTC
[•••s]
They use their pretty faces everyday And look with disapproval to the slightest display of self expression But there is always a seemless crack Hidden by lyes of the past and false promises of the future Flonting their pretty face in the presence of a king Masquerading their rotting corpses by disguising it with an expensive coffin As for all the pretentious souls, those pretty faces aren't so pretty, behind the closed doors of solitude
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Jan 4, 2018
Jan 4, 2018 at 11:38 PM UTC
Pretty faces
I wont survive the winter in your English garden of love; where rosebuds melt to thorns, and benches turn to bound splinter. Nothing left except to part with hollow sentiments exchanged, silly words rearranged. No substance in them, no heart. You aren't even there anymore with empty concrete bird baths, choked by brown vineyards. No paths left to explore. No real goodbye, just a note explaining why in so few words, empty even when bursting seemless. I wonder why you ever wrote. The darkest shadow of last November unwinds around too calloused hearts; until black crows flee chilled. No summer heat left to remember. No moon or stars beneath the cloud. No slanderous words thrown at our feet. No simple hymn to hum defeat. No one even to wrap the shroud.
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Jun 7, 2012
Jun 7, 2012 at 4:20 PM UTC
Why I Asked You to Go
There are no blackouts for us transitions; seemless one waking daydreaming monologue to the next no cut or redo for me & you. Deuterogenists. Astrology and Escapology; You dream and I disappear. but it seems that we were casted together This isn't stage fright- its fear. It's rude to say the extra's weren't needed. But its true. I guess the light always burned brighter, when it was just us two. Act I through to V lasted our life encore? no more. I'll retire a gray fox and you my partner in crime. Lets see what our final scene has in store.
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Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 4:46 AM UTC
Love Theatrics
A seemless trail plays to the audience undressed could tomorrow even wipe your brow ?
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Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 6:59 PM UTC
trail wanting more
Good Bye Old Charms Free Unto Another Star Completion Ridicule Released For a Moon That Ever Cares Embrace of Light and Dark Seemless Beginnings Reimagined Openings
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Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 5:21 AM UTC
Paradise
Do you like the sense of falling down From up above the sky? While running a music in your ears and you are light as you just puffed a cigarette and put out your lighter back to pocket. I feel so When you talk late night to me sitting facing eachother Murmuring untangled words, why I love night and you like watching circles of cigarettes Hovering in room. Burning unintentionally. I like that smell of you Beautiful and seemless. Crying of darkness outside doesn't bother you anymore We can understand it. I love to keep falling. Again and again. Seeing ending with a beginning. I love the sky and it never falls. you fall on my lap but it doesn't save you from the thunder of the day You don't sleep there. You sob there. My moon you always shine and you speak madness. Can you let me fall tonight, with the music you played late holding hands tighter and fall asleep like kid? We will burn our flowers next time.
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May 6, 2021
May 6, 2021 at 4:03 PM UTC
Falling with you
A blade slices deftly through thin skin, Not intentionally Though then, it would have been much less surpising. But caught unaware, now becoming all the more observant, With the terrible dread of what's to come. And, for a single, endless moment, there is no blood Just a fleshy interruption Of an otherwise unbroken landscape. A seemless pattern of lines with almost imperceptible depth Split by one harsh fissure. By comparison, stretching deep into the world below. Panic and wonder and excitement at the **** A new formation on the old plain The possibility to make one different. The skew of lines are unique, But the marks formed by old pains Have far more to say. In another moment, the blood comes, The brilliance passed In the maroon tumult from the chasm. Awe passes to action, To stop the flow Effort to restore the expanse to its uncut perfection, Or better yet, To skip straight to finding beauty again In the resplendent scar.
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Nov 5, 2016
Nov 5, 2016 at 7:24 PM UTC
A Small Wound
Good Bye Old Charms Free Unto Another Star Completion Ridicule Released For a Moon That Ever Cares Embrace of Light and Dark Seemless Beginnings Reimagined Openings
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May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 9:33 AM UTC
Paradise
Within the darkness of the room. All I see is blank space. Or rather filled with the foulness of humanities evil and corruption. But deep inside that room. Within all the corruption, there is a light. A hope. A soul so pure and refined that it seems as though it would blind me with lust and impurity. But in fact it would cause all the darkness and dread in my life to vanish. Nothing remaining of them except distant memories. Just memories. No more could they hold me back. Make me want to hide myself from the world, lest I lose control and surrender to the impotent thoughts. And I see you now. And I know there is a way. A path. A hope. To escape the never ending pain and sorrow. All it takes is looking upon your seemless eyes. So beautiful and luminous that from miles away you could still see every tiny detail on them. I could gaze into your gorgeous pupils, that seem to be a never ending hole. But yet it's not a hole. Rather a way to your heart. The hope. Then there is your bright and shining hair. That flows like water in the breeze. It projects the light miles away to destroy the evil in this world. And then your smile... Which even these words defile how spectacular a sight it is. How they glow in the shade of the corruption. Breaking through them like a hammer on glass. Nothing can stop your smile from making any day special. And even with all these things. I don't need them to be happy and free from the corruption. All I need. Is the mere thought of you. And everything else disappears.
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Apr 22, 2018
Apr 22, 2018 at 2:35 PM UTC
What a Crush Feels Like
Within the darkness of the room. All I see is blank space. Or rather filled with the foulness of humanities evil and corruption. But deep inside that room. Within all the corruption, there is a light. A hope. A soul so pure and refined that it seems as though it would blind me with lust and impurity. But in fact it would cause all the darkness and dread in my life to vanish. Nothing remaining of them except distant memories. Just memories. No more could they hold me back. Make me want to hide myself from the world, lest I lose control and surrender to the impotent thoughts. And I see you now. And I know there is a way. A path. A hope. To escape the never ending pain and sorrow. All it takes is looking upon your seemless eyes. So beautiful and luminous that from miles away you could still see every tiny detail on them. I could gaze into your gorgeous pupils, that seem to be a never ending hole. But yet it's not a hole. Rather a way to your heart. The hope. Then there is your bright and shining hair. That flows like water in the breeze. It projects the light miles away to destroy the evil in this world. And then your smile... Which even these words defile how spectacular a sight it is. How they glow in the shade of the corruption. Breaking through them like a hammer on glass. Nothing can stop your smile from making any day special. And even with all these things. I don't need them to be happy and free from the corruption. All I need. Is the mere thought of you. And everything else disappears.
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