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"smoothen" poems
Today, I am gardening my life, I'll root out  worrisome weeds, Those thoughts that trouble me, Cast them aside, those I'd never need. I'll cut the grass of discontent, Layer it even, soft, green and sweet, Smoothen  the furrows, So I can run content, bare feet. I'll water seeds planted with love, Of friends made this year, Friendships that bloomed, That make life special, worth living and dear. I'll welcome butterflies, And make homes for nesting birds, With them, taste sun's ambrosia, Soar and see the world. I'll bask in the rainbow of colors, Of blossoms brilliant and bright, And keep them sheltered, When they sleep at night. I'll capture the scented essence, Of roses, jasmines and lilies Place them in a jar — As fragrant memories. I'll love, rest and spend more time, Under the shade of the family tree, Cherish every moment, every minute, Beneath its precious canopy. And I'll buy new saplings, Sow them all carefully in a row, Of hopes, promises to me and mine, And tend to them, make them grow.
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Dec 26, 2016
Dec 26, 2016 at 9:20 AM UTC
Gardening
Observing the flowing water There is a feeling of tranquility Which washes over the worries Holding the essence of life An elixir which infuses hope Take a dip to energize the soul Cleanses away the negativism Remember, it’s a part of you Connecting with your inner self Rejuvenating the life’s possibilities None greater force Which can smoothen the rough edges Life’s a tranquil flow
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Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 1:14 PM UTC
Tranquil Flow
So, okay, are you listening? Being a monkey means many things... Yes! It also means loving, not just bananas, but the people who love bananas, and monkeys too! Listen to me in your heart, pay attention now, person, and this is gonna be the best smoothie ever! Bananas come first, of course, then yogurt, vanilla, of course, a BIG spoon of peanut butter.. Yes, really! Trust me! Cinnamon to jazz it up, water to smoothen it... we are calling this a smoothie RIGHT? And for extra-special, maple syrup, to give it a heavenly touch! Now cover your ears, which are almost as sensitive as mine, and ... Oh! How do you push the button with your fingers over your ears!
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Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 12:45 PM UTC
Channeling Curious George
Blessed  with matchlessly magical Parents, Their supremely good, serenely happy raising, design our thought processes. Their loving, comforting storytelling skills, leave indelible footprints  and heartprints. Thankyou God for this Benedictory Love!!! Blessed with a bombastic Brother, self-styled natural, perennial itinerant, Sentinel of sisters life-long. Sentiments flow unabatedly, for our illustrious, boisterous beloved younger. Thankyou God for this Blissful Love!!! Blessed with delicate darling Sister, who wears expressions benignant perpetually. Wiitty, gritty, easy-going habitually. Evident protected favourite of all surely. Fondest moments born in her queenly company. Thankyou God for this Harmonious Love!!! Blessed with solicitous Husband, His silent romanticism, macho protective ways, smoothen tumultuous paths. Terribly correct and sober better half, Brokers peace, plots life's happiness graph. Thankyou God for this Angelic  Love!!! Blessed with an endearing Child, Whose arrival, auspicious, momentous and miraculous, Rearing the divine and sublime born, definitely, a definition for the guardians. Our child, our panacea, promise of better tomorrows. Thankyou God for this Supreme Love!!!
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Oct 1, 2020
Oct 1, 2020 at 2:06 AM UTC
WHOM WE LOVE AND LIVE FOR !!!
I want to tell you I could love you. I could make you happy. I could make you fall apart on the bedroom floor, helplessly and desperately proclaiming that our love was more than the nights of raised arms and oceans of threatening depths. But fifteen is an age when all of this is just a dream, a cliff where the jump is even more dangerous than everyone says it to be. Fifteen is the age when I believe, that my hands have grown rough enough to take yours and maturity and age have always been our similarity. But fifteen is just another name for "You're too young." I cannot promise you that a wedding ring would worth more than the freedom to love the women of taller heights and wider hips for their lipstick is much darker than the lip balm I use to smoothen the dried skin. For I do not know what it is like to slide the glass between my fingers and to taste the golden bubbles freeze my teeth. I do not know how to light a cigarette or how to inhale the scent and death of rebellion. I do not know how to let the ashes fall unto the tray without burning my skin and dirtying my nails. I do not know how to make you want me, how to dress and turn my curves into mountains you wish to explore. I do not know how to turn my tongue into a weapon much deadlier than the wind. I do not know how to make you feel beautiful. So with all of the worlds streets, corners and dimly lit bars, I am nothing but a little pigtailed girl with a lollipop in one hand and a poorly written love note in the other. And there you are, as tall and as handsome as I've always seen you as with no time to look down, only straight ahead. But I guess, thats okay. The heels would never have fit me anyway.
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Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 11:19 AM UTC
Dolls Belong on the Shelf
I want to tell you I could love you. I could make you happy. I could make you fall apart on the bedroom floor, helplessly and desperately proclaiming that our love was more than the nights of raised arms and oceans of threatening depths. But fifteen is an age when all of this is just a dream, a cliff where the jump is even more dangerous than everyone says it to be. Fifteen is the age when I believe, that my hands have grown rough enough to take yours and maturity and age have always been our similarity. But fifteen is just another name for "You're too young." I cannot promise you that a wedding ring would worth more than the freedom to love the women of taller heights and wider hips for their lipstick is much darker than the lip balm I use to smoothen the dried skin. For I do not know what it is like to slide the glass between my fingers and to taste the golden bubbles freeze my teeth. I do not know how to light a cigarette or how to inhale the scent and death of rebellion. I do not know how to let the ashes fall unto the tray without burning my skin and dirtying my nails. I do not know how to make you want me, how to dress and turn my curves into mountains you wish to explore. I do not know how to turn my tongue into a weapon much deadlier than the wind. I do not know how to make you feel beautiful. So with all of the worlds streets, corners and dimly lit bars, I am nothing but a little pigtailed girl with a lollipop in one hand and a poorly written love note in the other. And there you are, as tall and as handsome as I've always seen you as with no time to look down, only straight ahead. But I guess, thats okay. The heels would never have fit me anyway.
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55
I have been drinking with this girl all night Admiring the beauty in her eyes I asked “are you lonesome tonight? If so, wanna come back to mine?” She smiled, finished her drink and said “alright” Now we’re back at mine Drinking endless glasses of wine As we continue ******** about our lives She goes on about her ex and how he lied I put on a vinyl to smoothen out the vibes She says “I love this one, we must dance” She then jumps up and takes my hand As we dance Looking into each other’s eyes She gives me a kiss and bites my lip Making me sigh I spin her around to hold her from behind Kissing her neck whilst she runs her fingers through my hair I kiss behind her ear and whisper “Should we go to bed?” She turns around, pins me down and said   “Let’s **** to Joy Division instead”
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Jun 8, 2020
Jun 8, 2020 at 2:26 PM UTC
Closer to Unknown Pleasures
Its tough to fight Its tough to Strike Its tough to smoothen the **** Its tough to motivate our mind Its tough to conquer our feelings Its tough to win the shine Its tough to show our emotions without any pinch of drama you wana loose up all the pain. Its tough to win this life Its tough to take all the love family, friends and OuR RIGHTS Goodnight...
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Jan 5, 2023
Jan 5, 2023 at 2:11 PM UTC
A Sacrifice
If you were to love me as much as I love you You'll see that all our dreams would all come true Cause my love for you is unconditional our love would have been eternal As I smoothen the cracks along my heart which I must say, you broke these parts I prepare to fall for you again and see you break me more and leave me here in pain..
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Mar 3, 2017
Mar 3, 2017 at 10:55 AM UTC
If You Were To Love Me
One sunny aftr’noon I chose To stroll upon the sound When suddenly I glimpsed ahead And saw, me, on the ground This vaguest doppelganger mimick’d Ev’ry move I made It spun upon the sand and whirl’d As I turn’d away Than standing still, I crook’d my head And look’d behind in shock I saw my mimic laying there As wrought and real as rock But as the sun began to sink And moon commenc’d to rise My companion stretch’d as on A rack, before my very eyes I slep’t upon the beach that night Awaiting its return And awoke to feel the sand against My face begin to burn Still half asleep, I stumbled to The bay to wash my eyes And while splashing water on my head I view’d to my surprise My shadow spread across the sand And glinting smoothen’d stone Now in days of solitude I know I’m not alone
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Dec 15, 2011
Dec 15, 2011 at 6:19 PM UTC
The Holographic Principle
The wasted land, Where the birds Sing, but the people cry, The purple city, Burning in yellow The cruellest month, Which is flames mix with cold. Sickening my mind all of a sudden. Late winter sky is about to cry conquer in wind, Amber-hued, sunny and hot, The owner of our secretes, Hiding from our grieving eyes Sinking in greyish blue cloud. I found the best moment to write, Right after melancholy moments. From his smoothen skin to her so mean eyes, Born something unknown desire to have, Every touch of his, soaked in alky ash. lets fire up that moment with unspoken truth. Be as you always been, Be that lover and don't be change There was fear and the fire With the suffused enough heart, like unbreakable With the cried enough eyes, like compassionate To each other, to the sea, which seems The illusions lay before us on land of dreams, So various, so beautiful Neither joy, nor love, Nor peace, nor help for pain; Scattered the violet and blue light Away from our eye sight In this lonely city, Where struggle and tenderness collide, Swept with complex evening clouds.
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Jan 11, 2022
Jan 11, 2022 at 12:16 PM UTC
Right After Melancholy Moment
And on that day you were born, my Sylvia, I murdered your father. So how you would grow up will depend entirely up to me. I burnt his graceless flesh and mantled you with isolation. I threw his clothes on the window and buried his existence in the ground. Syl, sometimes you see him suspended in midair, I know, like a strange curve on the portrait, like a portrait wrapped in moth, like a moth perched on the wall, like a wall that doesn’t suit the architecture. But you never bothered to find out, good girl. You were created in the course of the stars, on the backyard, my Sylvia and molded by flowers, so I must feed you with butterflies, drown you in poetry. You are the constellations I have disarrayed, the world I will dismember. You are the infinity, my love. You are the stretch of the ocean, the look in your father’s eyes before he sleeps. You are the incoherence of forever. You are the inconsistency of happiness. My Syl, I fear that you will grow up, one day. You will leave this little cottage, and search for a better plastered wall. You will doubt my existence and those bleeding of the feathers. You will tear your skin and discover a new you underneath. You will find your crater of imperfections, you will be astonished, you will begin to wonder, you will begin to question and you will forget about me. You will begin to ***** my lullabies. Hush, my love, and close your eyes. I will make you immortal. I will stitch you with stardust. I will cover your little lovely bones with perfection. I will smoothen you like a wax; you may kiss your scars goodbye. I will preserve your name with you, and lock you both in a beautiful cage. I will make you immortal. I will make you immortal. I will make you immortal. Like a prayer. Like a lovely prayer. Your fist locked like a period, began the history, encompassed the world, the silent plea, the quivering resistance, the flickering flame; your little mouth in absolute surrender. You are the rigidity of my everlasting delight, the bleeding poppies in every battleground. Sleep, my Sylvia, sleep, and never wake up. Stay infinite, my Syl, my sweet, my love. We are greater than literature. We are larger than biography. Always remember that. Always remember that. Always remember that. Always Remember That.
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Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 3:04 AM UTC
Mad women of Featherstone
And on that day you were born, my Sylvia, I murdered your father. So how you would grow up will depend entirely up to me. I burnt his graceless flesh and mantled you with isolation. I threw his clothes on the window and buried his existence in the ground. Syl, sometimes you see him suspended in midair, I know, like a strange curve on the portrait, like a portrait wrapped in moth, like a moth perched on the wall, like a wall that doesn’t suit the architecture. But you never bothered to find out, good girl. You were created in the course of the stars, on the backyard, my Sylvia and molded by flowers, so I must feed you with butterflies, drown you in poetry. You are the constellations I have disarrayed, the world I will dismember. You are the infinity, my love. You are the stretch of the ocean, the look in your father’s eyes before he sleeps. You are the incoherence of forever. You are the inconsistency of happiness. My Syl, I fear that you will grow up, one day. You will leave this little cottage, and search for a better plastered wall. You will doubt my existence and those bleeding of the feathers. You will tear your skin and discover a new you underneath. You will find your crater of imperfections, you will be astonished, you will begin to wonder, you will begin to question and you will forget about me. You will begin to ***** my lullabies. Hush, my love, and close your eyes. I will make you immortal. I will stitch you with stardust. I will cover your little lovely bones with perfection. I will smoothen you like a wax; you may kiss your scars goodbye. I will preserve your name with you, and lock you both in a beautiful cage. I will make you immortal. I will make you immortal. I will make you immortal. Like a prayer. Like a lovely prayer. Your fist locked like a period, began the history, encompassed the world, the silent plea, the quivering resistance, the flickering flame; your little mouth in absolute surrender. You are the rigidity of my everlasting delight, the bleeding poppies in every battleground. Sleep, my Sylvia, sleep, and never wake up. Stay infinite, my Syl, my sweet, my love. We are greater than literature. We are larger than biography. Always remember that. Always remember that. Always remember that. Always Remember That.
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12
to hold the other's happiness higher than your own to lie in each other's arms trembling with joy always tell the whole truth even though it may hurt try to really listen to each other's words stand by each other in times of sorrow love the children like your own love each other as you love yourselves say it when you need time for yourself before the world falls apart escape from the quotidian with a sudden caress on doors closed for a while rap gently tell tenderly each other's fears and smoothen the frowning brow with kisses think of the little things at breakfast understand contradiction as the sign of life only the dead contradict nobody not even themselves
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Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 12:49 PM UTC
true love?
Can I ask why we are playing pretend, we've hit a bump in the road and we're just carrying on like it was never there. Hoping that the lies will be able to smoothen it out so that no one will see the cracks it left behind. But what if I am done pretending
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May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 4:52 AM UTC
"Every little bump in the road I try to swerve" Taylor Swift
I'm dreaming of a girl so far she'll never touch my hand, but still she manages to reside and assure my heart is bent. Cosmic fate, what is your grand plan, what is the meaning of this test? Leaving my heart dazzled and my mind dazed, the result will still break my chest. Let me give you this flower, my vicious vision to smoothen your unsteady sight given that I've fallen long ago at least listen to my bittersweet plight.
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Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 3:40 AM UTC
A girl so near as far
He saw her soft flowing mane Bouncing gracefully over her waist lean She looked peaceful, she looked serene What they shared together neither could explain. She quickly pulled back her hair in a pony tail How could he like them now that they were so thin and frail? He looked into her expressive grey eyes They were as deep as the oceans great Gazing into them for eternity he could wait They never betrayed her feelings, they looked wise. She quickly covered them with her spectacles How could he like them now with those dark circles? His gaze moved over to her perfect smile It had always had a mesmerizing effect It still sent his heart racing the last time he checked It added to her elegance, it added to her style. She quickly stopped smiling to smoothen all the wrinkles How could he like them now without those deep deep dimples! Her appearance had changed over time But he still remembered her as the beautiful young girl he had met years ago She had a pure soul and a divine glow Which had only grown manifold in her prime. No words were needed for her to read his mind After all age was just a number to be left behind.
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Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 11:01 PM UTC
The timeless beauty...
So this Lady-of-Themes infused with Beat, Whose Soft-Flamed Hands smoothen the Letter's Edge, Whose Process define what Matters on Heat - Like Ripe Seeds scattered take Root on the Ledge Then enrich such Themes my Country indeed Which plomb this Moment I can take to Pride: Another Beauty marked Genious-of-East And Future the Written Maiden abide If Blessings - un-poped - then endowed onto her For Utmost Talent was beyond belief Still her Tongue the Innocent bid confer To sand these Edges from Rough World's relief. And by such Hands, let our Mothers invoke: Youth indeed does Spell; And Spells out our Hope.
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Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 10:11 PM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE: DENISE ANN
Adam waded out of the garden With him Eve as his first shade of the Hades! With faded glory and heavy heart The earth moved with a tilt to avert The inglorious eve from the sun in the west In an attempt to set in the cover of darkness. The leaves bent down as the branches Stood still with the motionless wind aghast. The adjoining creeks joined to weep With the mother of mankind's misery. Pearls of tears flushed down the cheeks Of the deprived and devastated Eve. The diabolic sin had created a contrast In the invisible brightness of bliss, To be visible and to perceive decibels At the cost of losing the Invincible! Adam's stoic resin tears seeped down Like amber to petrify the sin at heart centre, To convert the egoistic pinching pain into a relic That should show witness for ages, As a precious wreckage of man's first sin. Transparent though yet the smothering Eve's pain Must be confined at the centre of an air chamber With a pair of tending dark fins of the lungs That inhale and exhale like a wounded swan. Still striving to smoothen and cool the pain stricken soul Eve engaged herself to cover his chest with her long dark hairs And pressed the pair of seat of emotions to absorb And assuage his painful visage. But the hot pain linger at the solid  rock bottom Like ash covered ember at the fender And melt a little the crystal tears To vapour in wafts of deep sighs. For the pain is from the depths That nothing can match or reach But for the touch of the Perfect Who else can reach it and catch it And turn it into an unfailing pail of Mercy? But the diabolic seed of sin had implanted a contrast In the invisible brightness of bliss, To be visible and perceive decibels To confine man's life into a visible spectrum Bound by the lengths of day and night And comprehensible only within the line of sight, At the cost of losing the Invincible, Eternal boundless brightness and Bliss!
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Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 12:53 PM UTC
Adam's Pain
Adam waded out of the garden With him Eve as his first shade of the Hades! With faded glory and heavy heart The earth moved with a tilt to avert The inglorious eve from the sun in the west In an attempt to set in the cover of darkness. The leaves bent down as the branches Stood still with the motionless wind aghast. The adjoining creeks joined to weep With the mother of mankind's misery. Pearls of tears flushed down the cheeks Of the deprived and devastated Eve. The diabolic sin had created a contrast In the invisible brightness of bliss, To be visible and to perceive decibels At the cost of losing the Invincible! Adam's stoic resin tears seeped down Like amber to petrify the sin at heart centre, To convert the egoistic pinching pain into a relic That should show witness for ages, As a precious wreckage of man's first sin. Transparent though yet the smothering Eve's pain Must be confined at the centre of an air chamber With a pair of tending dark fins of the lungs That inhale and exhale like a wounded swan. Still striving to smoothen and cool the pain stricken soul Eve engaged herself to cover his chest with her long dark hairs And pressed the pair of seat of emotions to absorb And assuage his painful visage. But the hot pain linger at the solid  rock bottom Like ash covered ember at the fender And melt a little the crystal tears To vapour in wafts of deep sighs. For the pain is from the depths That nothing can match or reach But for the touch of the Perfect Who else can reach it and catch it And turn it into an unfailing pail of Mercy? But the diabolic seed of sin had implanted a contrast In the invisible brightness of bliss, To be visible and perceive decibels To confine man's life into a visible spectrum Bound by the lengths of day and night And comprehensible only within the line of sight, At the cost of losing the Invincible, Eternal boundless brightness and Bliss!
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46
Trying to smoothen out the edges On a jagged surface of Jade. I will cut myself if I am not careful; This girl is as sharp as a blade! She's vicious and she's charming, In the most enchanting way. If Jade asked, with love, to cut my throat, With love, I would die today. The moon, it seems to steal its shine From the eyes of my sweet Jade. When I'm with Jade, and day turns to night, The sunlight appears not to fade.
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Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 12:48 PM UTC
Jade
Dearest Mother I’ve seen your tears Basked in your smiles and bursts of ire I’ve seen your hard work Your hands are calloused,  worn, and brown But they’re a gentle caress As they smoothen my frown Sweetest Mother You’re all I’ve known You raised me and loved me Care is all you’ve ever shown The taste of your cooking is the call of home A flavor sweeter than a honeycomb Joyous Mother, I will always be grateful Truly and forever For all you’ve done Remember I love you So smile, laugh, and cry It'll all be alright Cause I’ll be here Right by your side.
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Oct 22, 2020
Oct 22, 2020 at 2:58 AM UTC
Dearest Mother
The trees are my friends also is the moon I feel their love extend with people i pretend ; Weary of the mask elliptical prescriptions full of chemicals i pass They told me it would help mellow out my mood Smoothen out the edges no longer craving food Im sleepy all the time the opposite of fine I cry to the devine so i wont lose my mind Sever the appendage take the skin from bone Allow my soul to fly into a better home Hungry for my freedom we found it isn't free Detach your arm and leg to live conveniently
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Mar 11, 2017
Mar 11, 2017 at 8:12 PM UTC
Rocks
"Your kohl black Indian eyes, emitting  silver lightening **** me in small instalments" I whisper, softly in her ear "From my beloved mother, but much less lethal"she explains the generational difference. "This kick *** legginess" I begin while doing an *"Aarti"with my eyes , on that magnificence; it soon turned panegyric, yes she loved it, of course. "A family inheritance, athletic genes, handed over from a day past, but your attention, at this juncture is misguided" she turns cheeky at such times. "A heart that beats faster whenever a thing of beauty is at sight, nothing more" I attempt to smoothen the friction. "The spirit instilled by a father,who'd die for beauty and then polished it to such shine by one special,who is kept here"winking at me says she, pointing at her chest, assets ample, vying with each other, for a space, on her front page, though what she meant was her heart,in a space much deeper.
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Jun 16, 2017
Jun 16, 2017 at 8:55 AM UTC
My Cover Girl's Secrets
I want you to curl up on me, nestle yourself snugly between my arms and move around until you find the perfect places for all your angles and creases, your folds and ridges - to let your eyes seek the starbursts of the Dreaming, to breathe in surrender and breathe out all your demons - to rest your shoulders from the weight of the world and smoothen the dents the sky has made upon your back as your hands remember how it feels not to be climbing up cliffs that placed themselves between what you want and what you have - I want you to slow down, so maybe sleep can remind your smile how lovely it feels to be upon you.
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Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 6:43 PM UTC
armchair