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"smoothe" poems
Some gulp, others sip. So much lovely variety to the lip. Many the blend, together wedged - some smoothe to the tongue, others hard edged. As we do differ - so doth the taste. Without that difference, too much waste. Variety rules! Husband or wife, water or whisky - contrast is life.
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Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 3:10 AM UTC
Of whisky and life
She asked: "if your personality was a beverage, what would it be?" "Well..." I said. "it'd be smoothe going down. Or at least I like to think so. It'd be sweet. But, You know how there's like two types of sweet? There's like the fruity sour, tangy, bright, sugar sweet? And there's the malty, caramelly, chocolate, foggy sweet? It'd be later kind of sweet. It has a certain childish joy too it. An optimisim, a simpleness, like... chocolate milk. But it has a punch. And it isn't all, childish, it's also Responsible, Protective, Passionate, Bold, Loving, Hard, Strong hearted, Mature, like... ...Whiskey. I'm like... Whiskey Chocolate Milk."
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May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 4:17 PM UTC
"If your personality was a beverage, what would it be?"
Rat a tat , tap on a desk Pentip raps and the beat is my heart in my chest Stuck sitting I can't stand it If writers were criminals you'd catch me redhanded Words smoothe like red silk and silky black.velvet Syllables Spilling from my lips and sounding like sanskrit Wrote this just.to say that I could write it But it doesn't Set my heart on fire because empty words can't ignite it been about a dozen.days since my pen has touched a page Thought I had a message to.send but I.don't have much to.say
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Apr 24, 2012
Apr 24, 2012 at 11:29 PM UTC
Redhanded writers
Dim the lights let me melt in passion's night. Let you spread webs of silky veils to blind my eyes. Take my fingers, let them trace as braille the skin of your body contours. Smoothe its patina caress, mould it. Permeate my senses   guide my travel over your uncharted map, voyage ****** terrain: each inch of you touched, surveyed as new routes are found, explored, landmarks followed. Close your eyes feel the search of my tender hands through the darkness of a night without end. Expose your beauteous body contours, curves soft swell of ******* arched thigh cleavage   cleft half moon peaches lead me to a fern veiled vale to secret gorge spread wide, steer  my roused questor up the mount of  Venus’ cleft, to plunge pulsating adown slippery labile slopes into   clasps of foaming depths. Tobias
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Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 7:54 AM UTC
DESIRE UNDER THE DUVET
In the beginning there was truth, unhindered and un-splintered obvious and obviously good, remember? then entered a serpent who'd had his ego injured he spoke words more smoothe and sly than eve's ears had ever heard Speak Truth! Since then the disharmony is harmin me dissonance is dissin me in totality breakin me apart my heart is split into two - count em two- duality ******* the vitality right outta me leaving me wounded and without a dynamic melody to sing in metaphysical reality It's not just a fable see- they're trying to change me, chain me trying to tame me, train me I AM BEING DOMESTICATED. I am being transformed from the true but hated into the shallow form of the antiquated into little mix and match mutt, play nice, look better than ever, half true whole lie source of more than a little disturbing shoe leather I AM BEING WALKED ON. I AM DONE.
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Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 2:40 PM UTC
duality and the disarming of truth
I am breathless. wordless. my eyes attempt to take in every little piece of you. They trace your edges. Test them. Dip into the shadows that your head tilted down in shyness, nervousness, uncertainty mixed with certainty casts across your neck The ones that fade out as they reach for your chest the same way i want to reach out and touch you slide my hands gently across your skin kiss you in places that i  never think I'd think to kiss you in places i never imagined would curve so enticingly the way they did I want arms long enough to reach out and pull you to me until we share a single smoothe edge. I want you to curve to my shape I want to BE touched and that fine line is one I want you to brush your fingertips over I'd relive it for pieces of forever.
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Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 3:29 PM UTC
Brush your fingertips over this fine line
It's night. and nimbly she - well not quite dances. But entrances me. My mind fumbles. It's spinning. There is music there. it emanates from her body in Neon notes. They free float. It's a smoothe picture to swallow. But they are stuck in my throat. (like my wordless hope that she'll lean in, halt her dance, just long enough to press her lips to mine) she resonates with every note and she dances like the silkiest spoken word. Limbs sway she makes day break Stealing the color of neon skies Fluid in her every stroke the same electric blues,reflecting in her eyes, Her gaze set fire to my haze, Struck a chord inside my chest, the note somehow complementing the delicate sway of her hips. her lips, where the tip of my tongue could only dare to caress
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May 24, 2012
May 24, 2012 at 10:49 PM UTC
looks like music moves like melodies ( clab 1st section umbra )
They said i was a **** but im not see they said i was naughty but thats not me they said i was smoothe like im watery but im not cause im nautically inept i'd drown if i tried to swim in watery depths stickin to the shallows where the minnows are kept cause i cant trust the captain when im wearing the hat worried bout the undertow and the way that it swept me out im not sure what will come to pass but my compass will get me out its late, but its gonna be early soon, ill start watching morning stars and stop getting distracted by the reflection of the moon waves like to slap me in the face, it might not be courteous but its the cultural pace, its rude, values are lost and the truth is sinking to the bottom of the trench, spit on and forgotten in the deepest end
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Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 11:40 AM UTC
it started with something stuck in my head
He is above understanding altogether.He is the greatest mesmer. Always. Ever. A mystery. Above rationality by countless staircases. Square on the ground but floating and flying. In front of me. Behind me. Adjacent and in between. In places that don't even exist.  A single thing. Higher and greater than the highest and greatest. He made himself lowest for the low and the nameless. Making many a face for many a faceless man. Changing the unchangeable by changing into human skin. His name is Jesus. He is the illuminating dark.He is praised by songs that don't even come from lips. He speaks the language of the universe.After all the universe is language. Likely in verses. "Let there be light" he spoke the words and they were. The universe is language and it's speaking simultaneously. I am drowning in him, not even wanting to breathe, sliding fluidly through a 3D crystal sea that seems to breathe. Surrounded as far as the eye can see, farther than the edge of my dreams. It is kissing me awake and madly maddening me to sleep. He is looking at me lovingly. They are romancing me.  A sea of black boxes. Black boxes the colors of rainbows. Thick and smoothe like molten marshmallow, flowing overhead and underfoot, i am begging to be ambushed by their undertow. Square and solid black boxes that flow,like two  synchronized streams, in velvet synchronicity, a marriage of both extremes, This is paradox in reality. I am pleading to be painted oblivious but i don't know, maybe i am jaded by invisible star-songs, not even knowing I've spent my life humming along. I'm lost in the knowledge that i do not know. Letting my spirit marvel breathlessly at the breathtaking beauty of my soul. This is the universe. Un-understood and undeniable.
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Mar 10, 2012
Mar 10, 2012 at 5:28 PM UTC
Paradox in reality ( a tribute to the mystery)
He is above understanding altogether.He is the greatest mesmer. Always. Ever. A mystery. Above rationality by countless staircases. Square on the ground but floating and flying. In front of me. Behind me. Adjacent and in between. In places that don't even exist.  A single thing. Higher and greater than the highest and greatest. He made himself lowest for the low and the nameless. Making many a face for many a faceless man. Changing the unchangeable by changing into human skin. His name is Jesus. He is the illuminating dark.He is praised by songs that don't even come from lips. He speaks the language of the universe.After all the universe is language. Likely in verses. "Let there be light" he spoke the words and they were. The universe is language and it's speaking simultaneously. I am drowning in him, not even wanting to breathe, sliding fluidly through a 3D crystal sea that seems to breathe. Surrounded as far as the eye can see, farther than the edge of my dreams. It is kissing me awake and madly maddening me to sleep. He is looking at me lovingly. They are romancing me.  A sea of black boxes. Black boxes the colors of rainbows. Thick and smoothe like molten marshmallow, flowing overhead and underfoot, i am begging to be ambushed by their undertow. Square and solid black boxes that flow,like two  synchronized streams, in velvet synchronicity, a marriage of both extremes, This is paradox in reality. I am pleading to be painted oblivious but i don't know, maybe i am jaded by invisible star-songs, not even knowing I've spent my life humming along. I'm lost in the knowledge that i do not know. Letting my spirit marvel breathlessly at the breathtaking beauty of my soul. This is the universe. Un-understood and undeniable.
Continue reading...
1
*STRINGS & SYMMETRY - JIMI & RAINBOWS India Pale Ale nestled comfortably in one hand, Pilot G-2 .05 rested anxiously in the other. The ale went down like it was the end of the day- smoothe, cold and tasted like more. The pen just looked at me, daring me to let it caress this page, spread its inky passion like the rainbow of colors Jimi created with his guitar. ooooo It reminds me of recent conversations with Brian Greene about strings, resonance and vibration; about the make up of the universe and the meaning of symmetry. Conversations about the harmonics of Calabi-Yau shapes, expecially as multi-dimensional expressions of gravity, time and space. ooooo But I think if you want to really understand the elegance of the universe; feel the fabric of the cosmos and its loops of energy, then you have to listen as the stretching of Jimi's guitar strings vibrate, bend and fold. Jimi created rainbows when he played. And what are rainbows but vibrating color in various shapes. These colors, escaping his guitar and melting into the vastness of space. ooooo Some say Jimi was an alien. He stayed awhile but then slipped out again into the 9th dimension. But I think he emerged from the resonance in a Calabi-Yau hole of infinity found in the notes of "9 to the Universe". He then disappeared in the rhythym of flaming color arising out from "Voodoo Chile (Slight Return)". ooooo Jimi would pick those strings at Planck length speed causing flames to leap and go higher, igniting the universe with vibrations of blues and riotous laughter. Jimi knew how to fly and amuse. He knew how to laugh and play jokes on the universe! He would make us smile, keep time with our feet, and 'kiss the sky'. ooooo Finishing up the last of the Pale Ale, putting down the Pilot pen, I am ready to seek rainbows and listen to the universe sing. Aztec Warrior 1.28.16 (re-worked)*
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Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 10:19 PM UTC
POEM 116
*STRINGS & SYMMETRY - JIMI & RAINBOWS India Pale Ale nestled comfortably in one hand, Pilot G-2 .05 rested anxiously in the other. The ale went down like it was the end of the day- smoothe, cold and tasted like more. The pen just looked at me, daring me to let it caress this page, spread its inky passion like the rainbow of colors Jimi created with his guitar. ooooo It reminds me of recent conversations with Brian Greene about strings, resonance and vibration; about the make up of the universe and the meaning of symmetry. Conversations about the harmonics of Calabi-Yau shapes, expecially as multi-dimensional expressions of gravity, time and space. ooooo But I think if you want to really understand the elegance of the universe; feel the fabric of the cosmos and its loops of energy, then you have to listen as the stretching of Jimi's guitar strings vibrate, bend and fold. Jimi created rainbows when he played. And what are rainbows but vibrating color in various shapes. These colors, escaping his guitar and melting into the vastness of space. ooooo Some say Jimi was an alien. He stayed awhile but then slipped out again into the 9th dimension. But I think he emerged from the resonance in a Calabi-Yau hole of infinity found in the notes of "9 to the Universe". He then disappeared in the rhythym of flaming color arising out from "Voodoo Chile (Slight Return)". ooooo Jimi would pick those strings at Planck length speed causing flames to leap and go higher, igniting the universe with vibrations of blues and riotous laughter. Jimi knew how to fly and amuse. He knew how to laugh and play jokes on the universe! He would make us smile, keep time with our feet, and 'kiss the sky'. ooooo Finishing up the last of the Pale Ale, putting down the Pilot pen, I am ready to seek rainbows and listen to the universe sing. Aztec Warrior 1.28.16 (re-worked)*
Continue reading...
75
Time seems to drift off listlessly, almost endlessly, almost ending, in one smoothe uncertain movement. i lower my gaze to realize that the warmth that spreads down my legs is my own blood, draining from my veins. In a softly lapping waterfall stained beautifully crimson. Take in the handle of the blade that my body seems to draw in like a lover- with gentle caresses and a loving gaze. A flush warmth about my skin. my face nearly aglow. It is to those who watch it grim. But barely a smile escapes my lips. When i realize that the protruding hilt is equisitely ornate, crafted from silver memories of smiles, interwoven with platinum hopes i had for our future, inlaid with opalescent ignorance. It's irridescence reminds me of our bliss. Intrigued, i bear the blade and pull it free, loosing a metallic shower of rusted red and liquid iron. And in the split second i have left before after my last breath i expire, i lay my eyes on the blade.It is just as breathtakingly beautiful and forged from what seems all the lies you told to my face. Lies so laced with grace that i, the cynic, believed them in full. Dead, i don't even have time to speak before i fall. But i think "your betrayal, though painful, is beautiful.
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Mar 2, 2012
Mar 2, 2012 at 1:53 PM UTC
Beautiful Betrayal
your touch is like electricity in my veins i crave you you're like the sun radient, warm your smile is contageous it could cure anthything, it cured me they say boys are made of snakes and spiders, but they haven't met you you're sweet, you're sensative. everything about you invites me in. the way you caress me when we say our goodbyes, to how you stroke my smoothe skin, showing me that you love me. but what you probably don't know, is that i would cross the 7 seas to kiss you one last time i would climb mountains to see you smile, or to feel your kind embrace because i've never loved someone like i love you. but i'm cold and you burn.
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May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 10:40 AM UTC
first poem about you
At night i gaze up into the skys, since ive met you i think the stars , have eyes. Their looking down at me smiling and saying you are one lucky guy and i look up and say, yes i am one lucky guy, to have some i love and care about so much, some one with such a smoothe and gentle touch. They say that fate brings people together, but this is something much stronger than fate. For it was written long ago that we meet,,fall in love and be together for ever and ever.......... a
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May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 9:14 PM UTC
The stars have eye
Check it, I wreck it, On the mic I get hectic; I'm like a broken mirror, look, I'm bad luck reflectin. When I'm drunk I see in two's, I smoke the skunk to find my muse, Lysdexic con-, I'm real -fused, And though you have to pick and choose, I'm both the tortoise and the hare: I never lose; I'm real smoothe, But I can cruise. New thoughts, I lay em down, From the top, I'm breaking ground. Faucet runnin, Hot new flow, Thoughts is stunnin, Here we go: Preferred fuel is butane, Lyrical spark ignites flame, And yes my rhymes is insane, Never premeditate game. And here's another, No really, you can have it for free: We all started out white, As a ***** turned to seed; And my my, How I've grown, And turnt thoughts into gold, Just call me new school alchemist, My methods be fresh and untold. Not a bad little verse, From the old t-o-p, Now Imma finish shapooin, Cause I'm so fresh and so clean.
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Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 1:49 AM UTC
I like to freestyle in the shower
Don’t say a word come sit by the cool side of the bed smoothe the velvet of your dress and fix you into something you’re not an illusion that has been bought a reminiscense of this past which is nothing sober promises and wasted regrets nothing but an idle landscape to be revered alone above an empty mantlepiece irreplacable unforgettable unattainable.
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Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 1:14 PM UTC
Leaning Towards Love but Veering Off Course.
A snuffling comrade, Curled in a silky smoothe ball. What great joy a cat!
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Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 12:29 AM UTC
Cat Haiku
C o r n e r s!    T h e r e Are Corners               In               this               life s  e  m  i  t  e  m o S T          h e         y A r e                  S      h   a               r        p          A        n         d            S      o m       e          t      i m       e s Smoothe Lost a beloved Friend the other day, Sharp!
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Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
Corners
Eyes wet to the brim, then relieved by birthing tears; one chasing another down skin that's as smoothe as running one's palm carefully across the surface of a forest pond so silent it's warmed by even the moonlight. First I think she's moved by loving me; saying I'm more than she ever dared dream of. then I realize she's speaking of nightmares she has about losing me; waking up to my things and I not being there, and those tears stop as I hide her face against my neck, listening to the fearful ripples in their body of salt and sadness inside a heart that doesn't know that it needs not be half empty any more.
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Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 3:17 AM UTC
half empty
she guides my hand towards her chest. opens up with a sigh and leads my fingers to her crusted heart. *here. tear off these scabs so I can bleed the wounds clean and let them close up as smoothe scars instead. I refuse to hurt by other hands than yours.* this is love. there are no band-aids here.
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Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 7:38 AM UTC
scabs
life goes down and up like a roller coaster like every one says and thats lie and a myth to all people with problems its more like a snakey road with curves and sharp turns to left to right you amy never know whats coming your way some days are nice and smoothe like a clear path road and others have a clear path road but is blocked by traffic and cant find their way to a short cut to the easy and never get the real life that doesnt hit them till thier older and things start doing snakey roads start loosing controll and then turns to sharp turns left to right to mistake to mistake... i want to keep controll i want to keep my path clear not blocked by traffic not by any one not you nor by me . i, am my own self that choose its own path not by you nor me but nobody i choose by nobody rule...i ask you can you do the same??
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Nov 15, 2010
Nov 15, 2010 at 3:45 PM UTC
.....
As life is played out before your very eyes , will you grow to love will you loathe and despise The way forward unknown so take with you all that you may require To be submerged though can only help your dreams dissipate like wildfire Should you arm yourself with experience, insight and intrigue Will you accept a truth unknown and bear witness to a mind dying of fatigue The darkness deepens The road steepens Does a voice give you the energy to move A guiding hand to help smoothe Is it you and your inner strength that brings light Who stands beside you when it's time to fight Seeds are sown On a path unknown Walk the ways of so many before Take yourself through an unopened door
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Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 5:36 AM UTC
seeds sown
For the sake of romance, let me pick you up and drag you near For the sake of romance, allow me to lay down your fears Say folly on behalf of your future tears For the sake of romance allow me to draw up and down your spine with fingers of pure intentions, why I lie Bury my heart deep in your thighs Smoothe kisses and altered states This is no mistake For the sake of romance Twist and grind, call upon you now, and make you mine Show you who has the last say As you let your suspicions melt and ease away Stay, my lovely, stay, stay, stay Because for the sake of romance I’ll act on what I feel impassioned today Even though in the end I’ll only scare myself away Away, away, for you I’ll say The very things that’ll sullen your days Pray pray pray that I’ll loose my way And dry your face With a mask unlike the complacency I feel today For the sake of romance Break yourself over me Crack yourself over me It creates loveliness in your demise In your heart broken, once watchful but now stary eyes I want to create the emptiness for which I follow It makes me for just an instant feel half-alive but even then still half-somewhat hollow
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May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 7:38 AM UTC
For the sake of it
Mush brain, empty stomach Lifting myself, the day plummets Walking to run, running to drunk Day is gone, soul depleting Filing my patience, wanting Hating myself, needing you Itched, scratched, beaten, dragged Pushing through, minute to minute Face looks dead, body needs bed Mind swirling, fingers play with anything Sheets smoothe, pillow heaven Thoughts of food, starved by time Quakes of emotion, left behind Bottles clear, from their emptiness Still, there is air, trapped and unoticed Corked and done with, Sealing me in Silently on the cement with the other bottles
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Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 9:39 AM UTC
bottles of air
what a fine love a destiny of stories to listen as she speaks she does anything for me what more could a man ask a strong independent woman & it be no matter the task so for you I'm practicing a true understanding to be the best companion your king with comprehension cause lord knows your struggle as a queen, the constant battles that come with pursuin all your dreams to me, you should get all the diamond rings, adventures with serene, ocean views like vivid scenes from a movie... you know of your favorite matineé, thats smoothe like your skin in your favorite Lingerie. Pretty brown eyes that shine just like a ray that beams from the blinds on a warm & sunny day She's Beautiful...
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Aug 21, 2021
Aug 21, 2021 at 2:58 AM UTC
Queen