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"sensationally" poems
On a tall glass In quite a generous mass Cold and fluffy, Yet  somehow warm and puffy Some praline, and nuts With fresh banana cuts Sensationally sweet, Capable of a marvelous feat of filling a stranger full Otherwise, he won't be in a mull Or in a daze Just take a look at him in that sugared haze Whether it's strawberry or mango Or an orange doing the tango I'd just like to add That we like to go mad Or we'd go for a scream Over something cold, called: ice cream
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Jan 24, 2011
Jan 24, 2011 at 12:17 AM UTC
Ice Cream
"montana-says-yoga-pants-illegal" Look up on Yahoo we got quite the stash, under the illegal grass, in our hidden home, bring 'em out when it's just the two of us, looking to get exercised o'course we have secret codes, (yogurt slackers) never call 'em by their real name in public, lest we get sent by drone to the new orange and black jail when we be feeling risky-frisky, under our coats we wear 'em semi-publicly, but to blend in, we only buy black, seeing as we live in new york seeity, where we reside, black be the only legal color for approved illegal street walking never when we travel domestically in case we get busted, don't want to face federal interstate charges of inciting others to riot sensationally! this land is not my land, maybe it is yours, but if you come alooking for us, we got a cabin in the deep words, where we practice dress code freedom, no ties, shirts untucked, navel (oranges) fully exposed, button down shirts always  unbuttoned, (my high school days revolutionary first strike) hoping to escape the idiots we place above us to "govern"
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Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 4:34 PM UTC
Illegal yogurt pants
Ruby red love She didn’t give it a shove With delicate diamonds just above A love to find Not the gaudy kind Purposely shaped heart In search of where to start Placed upon a tiny finger To make one stop and linger A Ruby shine With Red glare so clear So much so That one could begin to fear What would happen if they Tried to disappear Runaway they might With just cause Of too much fright Would bring her to shed a tear That Red ruby so clear Reminds her of the cheer And the time he spilled his beer Red ruby dazzling bright If only see the light Whats its symbolize Character or compromise She was utterly surprised That tiny clear red ruby A reminder Love is never like that movie Ruby red love Unmistakable beauty Recalling a late summer sunset A clear preset With its curves Upon that finger Can be a deep stinger If not preserved Prompts the feeling Sensationally deserved
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Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 11:47 AM UTC
Ruby Red
I can't quite wrap it around my head **** polishing hobgoblin Gobbling hot fudge banana split sundaes topped with ***** cherry toppings What I'm looking for Just on the tip of my tongue Just the tip I can almost put my finger in it *On it Oops! A slip of the lips Verbally retching Wretched word ***** Armed with an armada of double entendres Sensationally double penetrating your ear canals!
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Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 7:57 PM UTC
Crescendoing Innuendo
I want you… I want you instinctually and primitively. Spiritually and physically. I want to give you portions of me that I’ve never shown anybody; that will become distinctively yours - recognizable only to you and you alone. I want to submerge you in a realm of ******** gentleness that perpetuates an aggressive kindness, that stimulates, and soothes every aching, yearning, desire that flows through your body. Continuously… I’m telling you what you already knew, that I will always be there for you, and you will never again feel alone or abandoned. I  want to give you complete and total satisfaction. I want you and every little idiosyncrasy that makes you unique, that others have critiqued, because they didn’t understand. I want to show you that I can… I want to dwell in the depths of your being. I want to unravel your complexity. I want to give you vibrations in the form of a currant that arouses sensationally, at a frequency that makes you hum melodies of ecstasy uncontrollably as you call out for me. I want to initiate an explosion of soft convulsions from the warmth of my mouth penetrating every inch of your body rhythmically. I want the waters from the spring of your masculinity to drown me, and then I want you to save me. I want to embrace you each night and wrap you in between soft warm thighs, and welcoming arms under moonlight, until your torso is wet, drenched with sweat, until each kiss drips from the tip of your lips, and I caress your back with my fingertips. I want to make love to you the way an angel would if she could. I want to show you heaven and ethereal visions without limita-tions or specifications.   I want to give you happiness and pleasure unparallel, unlike any-thing either of us has ever felt, seen, or could create in our dreams. I want to protect you from harm beneath my wings. I want you to believe in me… I want you to come into my life.
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Sep 1, 2010
Sep 1, 2010 at 7:21 PM UTC
Come Into My Life
I want you… I want you instinctually and primitively. Spiritually and physically. I want to give you portions of me that I’ve never shown anybody; that will become distinctively yours - recognizable only to you and you alone. I want to submerge you in a realm of ******** gentleness that perpetuates an aggressive kindness, that stimulates, and soothes every aching, yearning, desire that flows through your body. Continuously… I’m telling you what you already knew, that I will always be there for you, and you will never again feel alone or abandoned. I  want to give you complete and total satisfaction. I want you and every little idiosyncrasy that makes you unique, that others have critiqued, because they didn’t understand. I want to show you that I can… I want to dwell in the depths of your being. I want to unravel your complexity. I want to give you vibrations in the form of a currant that arouses sensationally, at a frequency that makes you hum melodies of ecstasy uncontrollably as you call out for me. I want to initiate an explosion of soft convulsions from the warmth of my mouth penetrating every inch of your body rhythmically. I want the waters from the spring of your masculinity to drown me, and then I want you to save me. I want to embrace you each night and wrap you in between soft warm thighs, and welcoming arms under moonlight, until your torso is wet, drenched with sweat, until each kiss drips from the tip of your lips, and I caress your back with my fingertips. I want to make love to you the way an angel would if she could. I want to show you heaven and ethereal visions without limita-tions or specifications.   I want to give you happiness and pleasure unparallel, unlike any-thing either of us has ever felt, seen, or could create in our dreams. I want to protect you from harm beneath my wings. I want you to believe in me… I want you to come into my life.
Continue reading...
20
The karvings of this awe-full fantasy amplifies, the throbbing of my freezing heart. The shapelessness of the kloud whispers, wonderful mysteries in inaudible murmurs. The blue-orange painted kanvas above. The silhouette of the mountains that hide, behind the undaunted smokes that forms. The opening that the heavens made,   to show the earth its dazzling threshold. Gradually. Sensationally. Approaching the land with unfathomable ardor. Devout of the seamless tenuous night, Gangas klangs echoes through the cold. Lumps of land deprive the moment of silence, as the people sing to the gods with reverence. Heareth me, O goddess of the krops! O god o'er all the mountains come see; How gracefully she stood before me. While the pyre gives emphasis to her figure. *Kurves of the kreseant resembles her smile; edges of her lips sink. Beautiful exkavation mark on her left cheek,* all in perfekt symmetry; perfektion in all she is. "Saya Suka Awak" I told her. that very moment: Sparkling of the stars devoured our eyes. Sweetest morose partings seeped in voiceless lullabies; in unison with symphonic notes lulling unsaid goodbyes. Through the last movement of vagueness the moment subsides. For the love that profess fades, with the chilly thin air it travels; back to the heart of the other. Oceans apart they were, yet atop the mountains. . . love blossomed.
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Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 9:33 AM UTC
Temui Cinta Di Gunung. (Love found on the mountains.)
HEART GALLERY You step forth from your bath as if you were a Bonard come alive spread yourself across crisp cool sheets as sensationally sensuous as a Modigliani **** or a Noguchi sculpture. Here, you Matisse if only for a brief moment now so Ernst! Now so playfully Picasso...ish! I smile as you Vermeer! "Come here & kiss me!" You my Magritte! You my Dali! You my laughing walking talking 'art gallery!
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Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 7:06 PM UTC
HEART GALLERY
you used to be inspirational, sensationally inspirational in fact quite incredibly the perfect source of my originality my imagination you made words spew out and run wild across page after page of passion agression angst and intensity mixed beautifully in our perpetually corrupted perfection. but you've lost your magic your ability to make my fingers scatter across page after page you've begun to stifle and suffocate simply ******* the life out of my passion agression angst and intensity destroyed and crumbling into bland pieces of unoriginally insignificant nothingness.
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Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 1:34 PM UTC
jumbled mess
I'm planting seeds in December I planted One for love Two for peace Three for every moment I felt the breath of eternity slipping through your lips as I brushed mine across your flesh gracefully grazing with my fingers the curve in your back Healing the strain and tension that your work had let in I held my left hand above your skin and prayed the pain that had sunk in would flow into me I drew it out persistently I took it all in a heart beat and I watched as your mind drifted off quitely Hoping it would lead you into serenity With my right hand I projected all the beauty I had collected while watching the sun decend sleepily into the sea and I witnessed you exhale all the trials you faced recently My hands now taking you into a vast journey Your conscious mind lulled into sleep and I talked with you telepathically Tracing the points sensationally Touching upon subjects that needed to be Soulfully blessing the night with a gift of insight My love I felt everything Unthawing the earth with the spark of spiritual empathy I planted four seeds for always and five for our hopes The six I had left I repeated the first three and I watched them grow Two bonded effortlessly into One being Corresponding Equilibrium Perfectly Forget-me-nots began flourishing
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Dec 17, 2012
Dec 17, 2012 at 11:40 PM UTC
Six Successful Seeds in December
A crushed Shah Jahan said: When you behold the memorial, a sight so masterly, yet sorrowful; you will inevitably admit an aching little bisecting wish that adorns your yearning lips.... parched, barren, effete...... And from the world's lid, the luminaries too would sob and drip. # He could well have been talking about my beloved's words ; ......so utterly breathtaking that a sigh poignantly quivers in my dithering being. Her words meander. It is no wonder: for all of us saunter in thought and speech one time or the other. At times her words are poised and easy....., wonderfully jolly, sensationally starry: They shimmer like the four minarets (1) on the full moon night; ....brilliant......resplendent. Then they taper from the dome and stop halfway between the tomb and the solemn reflecting pool: They are calmer, sober, and you know, a little factual; ...what they call discriminating intellectual, rational...... Soon the words leave charbagh (2) and hit the red sandstone walls (3) crenellated with flawless wisdom; spotlessly beautiful like the lifeless marble that proudly commemorates Mr. Shah Jahan's love in grim, cold blooded grace. We talk about riders and scruples, kith and kin, restraints and constraints, fidelity and modesty....... ....and I can not help but to sadly agree to the placid logic in our impeccable scripts. # Logic is a wonderful remedy for the radical and foolhardy but for every cure, there is a spin-off. Deep somewhere, a delicate, two-cent sentiment collapses into atrophy and.......silently another part of me becomes a meek monument of disposable history. ---------- (1) The four minarets of the Taj Mahal (2) The garden that starts from the end of the main gateway and ends near the squared base of the mausoleum is an integral part of the Taj Mahal structure. (3) The building material used is brick-in-lime mortar veneered with red sandstone and marble and inlay work of precious/semi precious stones. The mosque and the guest house in the Taj Mahal complex are built of red sandstone in contrast to the marble tomb in the center.
0
Nov 11, 2019
Nov 11, 2019 at 10:27 PM UTC
The 'N'th Monument
A crushed Shah Jahan said: When you behold the memorial, a sight so masterly, yet sorrowful; you will inevitably admit an aching little bisecting wish that adorns your yearning lips.... parched, barren, effete...... And from the world's lid, the luminaries too would sob and drip. # He could well have been talking about my beloved's words ; ......so utterly breathtaking that a sigh poignantly quivers in my dithering being. Her words meander. It is no wonder: for all of us saunter in thought and speech one time or the other. At times her words are poised and easy....., wonderfully jolly, sensationally starry: They shimmer like the four minarets (1) on the full moon night; ....brilliant......resplendent. Then they taper from the dome and stop halfway between the tomb and the solemn reflecting pool: They are calmer, sober, and you know, a little factual; ...what they call discriminating intellectual, rational...... Soon the words leave charbagh (2) and hit the red sandstone walls (3) crenellated with flawless wisdom; spotlessly beautiful like the lifeless marble that proudly commemorates Mr. Shah Jahan's love in grim, cold blooded grace. We talk about riders and scruples, kith and kin, restraints and constraints, fidelity and modesty....... ....and I can not help but to sadly agree to the placid logic in our impeccable scripts. # Logic is a wonderful remedy for the radical and foolhardy but for every cure, there is a spin-off. Deep somewhere, a delicate, two-cent sentiment collapses into atrophy and.......silently another part of me becomes a meek monument of disposable history. ---------- (1) The four minarets of the Taj Mahal (2) The garden that starts from the end of the main gateway and ends near the squared base of the mausoleum is an integral part of the Taj Mahal structure. (3) The building material used is brick-in-lime mortar veneered with red sandstone and marble and inlay work of precious/semi precious stones. The mosque and the guest house in the Taj Mahal complex are built of red sandstone in contrast to the marble tomb in the center.
Continue reading...
71
*A group of black clouds gathered, they had come to be together - for the blue sky, had sadly, just passed away, The Sun switched its warm, radiant, bright light off - paying respect to the memory of another lost, perfect Summer's day. Heaven's gates stood with arms wide open, Heaven flooded the grounds below with heavy, warm tears of rain, Upon these warm tears stopping, A delightful, sensationally bright, hope-filled,  glowing rainbow miraculously came forth - A sign that Summer's rain—Heaven's warm tears, were not, at all, in vain. By Lady R.F ©2016*
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Dec 21, 2016
Dec 21, 2016 at 4:01 AM UTC
Summer's Rain
!HEART GALLERY! You step forth from your bath as if you were a Bonard come alive spread yourself across crisp cool sheets as sensationally sensuous as a Modigliani **** or a Noguchi sculpture. Here, you Matisse if only for a brief moment now so Ernst! Now so playfully Picasso...ish! I smile as you Vermeer! "Come here & kiss me!" You my Magritte! You my Dali! You my laughing walking talking 'art gallery!
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Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 7:17 PM UTC
!HEART GALLERY!
Such unreasonable false treaties bypass these gated bricks, Wherein cats roam, Unseen mobile phones turn everyday fighters to mothers ***** Cross/tempered alleys lighten the communistic terrace where every buehler to every faris antagonizes the badged bringers of fear!!!! Stignitized stipends are exposed to logged whittled suspense!!! Weirdness is accompanied by thy ebony tops, Wherein freedoms lost, In places unsatisfied by man!!!! Fire and water are trend, Visionaries cometh from friends made from newspaper stands!!!! ****** theocratic, overhead sensationally leaks to moderned society!!! Where choosing priority currupts our fatal flaws!!! Art thou better or worse after all!??! Accessing emotions, Acclaimers fight explosion, Befuddlers make merry their richeous belated stay!!!! Tenaciously we compile thine world sent knowledge, Where cargo is astounding with thou junk we all keep!!! Clean thy face, Wipe thy feet, For you are generation number one!!!! You liberated statue , You image to gods son!!!!!!!!!
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May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 5:00 PM UTC
Bloomberg village
Propitious clouds fill the horizon, blocking cosmic rays Emanating from a lingering celestial beast. On these grounds of substance, humanity subsists with a curiosity Unquenchable mouths and minds -- we begin a rampant search for meaning. The vibrations of our search loosen the crust, exposing the fleeting nature of being Bewildered by this discovery we blind ourselves with faith, as if we deserve more Unable to see, we flee in a direction unknown for the chance that it may remedy our pleas. A shadowy remembrance of these requests ripple across arid aspect. Heedlessly stumbling upon past, present, and future, we careen towards the eminence of death. Desires fumes overwhelm, collapsing beneath these earthly plumes. Our last breathe exclaims,”Life is pain, for we are submersed in the mundane!” Sensationally-- as our hearts begin to tread their last beats Droplets of clarity deluge our dire thirst -- propitious clouds that once smothered the horizon Bequeath themselves of all significance, affixed at high noon Exposing anew the celestial beast that emanates a sanguine gleam Reflecting in the pools that surround our pulpy minds
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Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 4:11 PM UTC
Forecast of the Weather
Maybe, Sensationally, I have found the most elusive peace I have ever known Maybe, Sensationally, All it took was the shatter of every bone But maybe, Sensationally, It means I won't have to die alone
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May 9, 2022
May 9, 2022 at 4:17 PM UTC
Maybe, Sensationally...
I came here with a handful of obscurity Shall we map the systems that provokes such absurd musings? Shall I speak into a seamless glitch now subjected to frantic stitching? I assemble dispersive prisms to offset the mindset that all scenes remain black and white Common courtesy was not an invitation for empathy These conclusions full of color are not the product of serendipity Flash fuzzy for a brain full of huddles Deflect another reject with a space full of arrangements Misconstrued some mutiny and provoke a bystander into pieces Second hand clockwork will never ease anticipation Fine tuned nights clarify a need for self destruction Blue moons sensationally sidetracked by habitual disconnection I am exhausted I close my eyes to negate surprise but my blinks always come too late Farewell to the freak show I never knew your trajectory I only observed when that final nerve fell into animosity how primitive is a derivative of life? how potent is a notion full of strife? I am an advocate of strange I am a pocket full of loose change I am a crutch for nothing I only have a pull cord and a body full of stuffing All I know comes from sidetracked spirals full of feeling All I know is the abstract remains king
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Aug 6, 2017
Aug 6, 2017 at 3:05 PM UTC
So you know schizophrenia
A sedation that leaves only thirst for more a desire unsaid of love and wreck a mixture of two odds sinful, yet irresistible A bond of two sensationally and physically tied strengthened by a charismatic bond so involved, so intimate A journey to depths in a state of euphoria existing in a place like utopia where there's only passion for more and more A craving for you to come close a relentless yearn of not letting go such little time but such long distances leaving behind everything and going faraway A feeling of emptiness on the skin tears involuntarily stream down touching the corners of the lips 'tis the last time in a long time that we meet 'twas the departing of the lips that silently whispered, 'Until next time'!
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May 30, 2017
May 30, 2017 at 4:20 PM UTC
Waiting