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"semicircles" poems
***If I were a Rainbow The children would run to me Turning upside down, I would be an iridescent swing, The children would mount my rainbow wing Swaying high up in the starry skies ascending on the moon The children do bunny jumps, counting stars till noon Awestruck and desirous they pick a few The colours pink purple orange magenta and blue Swaying down to the flower garden They would pick flowers from the boughs laden Threading in a star and a flower into  an ornamental  garland Adorned as neckpieces , running around ,making one happy land If I were a Rainbow I would dismember all the semicircles making one hula hoop The children would gleefully twirl and sway into the  enormous loop If I were a Rainbow I would become one big ramp The children would joyously roller skate  up and down Lighting up the ramp If I were a Rainbow And all of these came true I would turn upside down making one radiant smile across the sky The children would happily smile back at me , waving me good bye***
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Aug 25, 2017
Aug 25, 2017 at 11:49 PM UTC
If I Were A Rainbow
a contradiction contracted in lowest terms are you. [it’s metal edges] your beauty is of a garden (suspended at mid- clouds), to enter and to say that in such a variety of flowers there can not be one that attracts you to pick it to dismantle it and to neglect the rest. [it’s plasticized segments] you know how to quickly imprint yourself on me when you laugh at times and conversely you weep and you are like those skies that shake me to my core when they are blinding on one hand and violently bleak on the other so clearly fractured they shake me pierce me pierced i am by you. [it’s just thinned points] imagine if a chameleon started to acquire each gradation of another creature in the form already similar to it: where could he ever escape? [it’s inconstant semicircles] (i can not delineate you it is like sketching a tidal wave nobody can: painters invent them) [and it’s shoved arches] i’ll tell you of a woman her soul shattered and subsequently imprisoned splinter by splinter in hail stones she fell and she felt herself crashing at the same instant millions of times however she never went insane. [it’s torn curves] (and I know well how a continuity interrupted succeeds to make you fumble convulsively but it’s not enough for me to restrain myself don’t ask me to) [it’s petrified vertical axes] what i see is a cross section of enclosure handfuls with disconcerting efficiency consisting of prisms and you know how to decompose yourself inside an innocence delimited you proceed by inconstancies you lacerate metabolizing you struggle silencing and i could only teach you one thing: gray is not a faded version of black.
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Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 9:04 PM UTC
automatic geometries
a contradiction contracted in lowest terms are you. [it’s metal edges] your beauty is of a garden (suspended at mid- clouds), to enter and to say that in such a variety of flowers there can not be one that attracts you to pick it to dismantle it and to neglect the rest. [it’s plasticized segments] you know how to quickly imprint yourself on me when you laugh at times and conversely you weep and you are like those skies that shake me to my core when they are blinding on one hand and violently bleak on the other so clearly fractured they shake me pierce me pierced i am by you. [it’s just thinned points] imagine if a chameleon started to acquire each gradation of another creature in the form already similar to it: where could he ever escape? [it’s inconstant semicircles] (i can not delineate you it is like sketching a tidal wave nobody can: painters invent them) [and it’s shoved arches] i’ll tell you of a woman her soul shattered and subsequently imprisoned splinter by splinter in hail stones she fell and she felt herself crashing at the same instant millions of times however she never went insane. [it’s torn curves] (and I know well how a continuity interrupted succeeds to make you fumble convulsively but it’s not enough for me to restrain myself don’t ask me to) [it’s petrified vertical axes] what i see is a cross section of enclosure handfuls with disconcerting efficiency consisting of prisms and you know how to decompose yourself inside an innocence delimited you proceed by inconstancies you lacerate metabolizing you struggle silencing and i could only teach you one thing: gray is not a faded version of black.
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173
The words I spoke Painted soft hues in semicircles That formed veins in vain All the life the colors formed caused was pain And disdain for this thing called breath I would gladly welcome death In the form of the devil kissing necks Sharpening a dagger in geometric patterns Slicing through my brain matter with a splayed tongue Implanting THC in my frontal lobe with infinite precision showing me visions of misread Scriptures read by passive preachers and pastors not knowing the meanings of verses read backwards that sound like incantations for Satan Drop. Drip into my glass Cerulean liquid so vivid it defies description Even with these prescription lenses I can't tell the difference between what's okay to write but not say so today I think I'll take an AK to Pre K to educate the young with Guns JFK would smile Knowing I'm the last gunslinger and expander of minds destined to be assassinated for saying it before my time
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Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 12:15 PM UTC
God isn't God anymore
I have slipped out of consciousness And into my mind Thoughts teasing me in the worst way Pirouetting perfect semicircles Leaping just out of grasp Past bittersweet few drops The kind that make you young When you taste them
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Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 12:47 PM UTC
consciousness
I can't believe we're finally here in a world all our own, No one but that nameless, powerless god to endure our screams of private pleasure and public pain. the universe has no time for us you and I, time simply moves around us in a single file line. Moving in semicircles, hoping to land among the evergreens ruthless salesmen pitch their price of humanity, souls are for sale. can't say whether this is a bargain or a ploy to make me shameless. I sat down for a while, to stop and steel the roses but the thorns tore at my fingers like darkness tears away the sunlight, like time wears away the make-up, like the scars I bare across my heart. so I left the roses. I ran faster, thinking I was closing in on you, drawing near to you but the wind pushed back my sails full of light, I realized that I will never reach that star, cut that throat, never burn the bridge that leads back to where soul meets body. Bruises mock my pain, they are my only decoration they whisper to me words of hope, that i may not go on forever, that in being human I am perfect, I am God.
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Mar 4, 2010
Mar 4, 2010 at 12:26 PM UTC
Maps
Fear is only a swarm of butterflies resting inside your lungs secretly, fluttering, every time you breathe, impeding the smooth passage of air provoking fake illusions of fright. Sooner than you, your body becomes their much sought adventure and when they take a flight down to your stomach, set idioms come to life - " i feel butterfly in my stomach" making you feeling anxious or anticipate nervously  "what's next?" Little did you know, you could pull them back to your lungs and push them out with your determined breathing only to see a rainbow erupting from lips, not falling back in semicircles , but rising sharp till the horizon, breaking myths of conventional fears and germinating new ideas of observing life. Just- take the charge. -Pallavi Goswami
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Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 3:37 AM UTC
Just Butterfly
The heat from a breath Formed a dysfunctional circle On the glass parallel to my face As I gasp at the drop off below me. The empty space below my foot Catches in my heart The rapid beat shakes my rib cage As I swing the appendage in semicircles. Suddenly, I F A L L. - M.Y.
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Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 10:43 PM UTC
2 A.M.
Within this semicircle Lives brilliant sunshine Lives insecurity Lives love Lives awe. Within another half Lives the distance of a silver moon Lives security Lives love Lives nothing but love. And within this circle Lives you Lives me Lives love It lives.
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May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 11:58 AM UTC
Semicircles
All those Fairy Tales he tells you; all these Lies you've taken as Truth. All the Paths that Disenfranchised my hope, Running in semicircles, Tripping over other people’s tails.                                                                          And Fell.
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May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 1:16 PM UTC
An Alternative Fairy Tale