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"softening" poems
The globalization   Once thought to be an important aspect To connect the world To diverse the world Has been only a part success And of course, a success to be In a way people are connected In the enchanting world of ours Rising the common world consciousness Rising and rising and rising A day by day and day The knowledge domain, a gigantic trip Profoundly majestic experience uplifting people Remarkably All over the world diminishing the differences Differences humans suppose to believe Differences that drew humanity backwards The differences mostly set by identitities Identities in terms of nationality In terms of religion, caste and creed As we observe, differences softening them boundaries A good thing as seen Manifested due to globalization Only possible due to global reach Just possible due to connection in large scale Diminishing are those differences as they don’t fit Don't fit to the consciousness of the world To the rising consciousness of the world now More the fire it sets the plank to burn faster Happening for good for sure, I believe On the contrary differences too In the verse of diminishing the truth It contradicts the positivity As see in the world today is extremism Yes extremism happens to exist If it exists for a long period A whole long period of time In the years to come Is definately calling for absurdity Which humans may not want to percieve The adversities of the impact of globalization Leading a chance for the high level corporates To the world to have access to the marketplace All over the world Leading to a state of consumerism To the people People becoming more and more consumers They are being brainwashed For them to buy goods That global industries produce People are running after the products ****** consumers ****** sheeps Those multinationals And shark headed corporates Are producing and manufacturing The high headed corporates The pigs are manipulating Are brainwashing people The sheeps are diverted towards it The people The only agenda is to gain more And more profit only By making the people slaves of themselves And slaves of their products And believe it Coke and Pepsi may be Right hand and a left hand But the Coke and Pepsi both are the same The very debate which is better is Helping the corporates to sale By making their brains washed away Consumers Sheeps Brainwashed In a sense they are enjoying The debate they argue upon And they are unaware And they are manipulated Knowingly and unknowingly More often knowingly ****** sheep slaves Another adjoining thing most of the governments in the world Are being run by the aid Of the corporates Only have a selfish agenda And strategy to sale Products, thoughts and  philosophy More and more and more ****** pigs Brainwashing minds of the people The sheeps Having a streak of global consumerism Selfish bunch of pigs And the brainwashed sheeps Say hell ya F***king hell ya F***k off Get out'a here ****** freaks Pigs and Sheeps
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Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 11:01 AM UTC
Pigs and Sheeps
The globalization   Once thought to be an important aspect To connect the world To diverse the world Has been only a part success And of course, a success to be In a way people are connected In the enchanting world of ours Rising the common world consciousness Rising and rising and rising A day by day and day The knowledge domain, a gigantic trip Profoundly majestic experience uplifting people Remarkably All over the world diminishing the differences Differences humans suppose to believe Differences that drew humanity backwards The differences mostly set by identitities Identities in terms of nationality In terms of religion, caste and creed As we observe, differences softening them boundaries A good thing as seen Manifested due to globalization Only possible due to global reach Just possible due to connection in large scale Diminishing are those differences as they don’t fit Don't fit to the consciousness of the world To the rising consciousness of the world now More the fire it sets the plank to burn faster Happening for good for sure, I believe On the contrary differences too In the verse of diminishing the truth It contradicts the positivity As see in the world today is extremism Yes extremism happens to exist If it exists for a long period A whole long period of time In the years to come Is definately calling for absurdity Which humans may not want to percieve The adversities of the impact of globalization Leading a chance for the high level corporates To the world to have access to the marketplace All over the world Leading to a state of consumerism To the people People becoming more and more consumers They are being brainwashed For them to buy goods That global industries produce People are running after the products ****** consumers ****** sheeps Those multinationals And shark headed corporates Are producing and manufacturing The high headed corporates The pigs are manipulating Are brainwashing people The sheeps are diverted towards it The people The only agenda is to gain more And more profit only By making the people slaves of themselves And slaves of their products And believe it Coke and Pepsi may be Right hand and a left hand But the Coke and Pepsi both are the same The very debate which is better is Helping the corporates to sale By making their brains washed away Consumers Sheeps Brainwashed In a sense they are enjoying The debate they argue upon And they are unaware And they are manipulated Knowingly and unknowingly More often knowingly ****** sheep slaves Another adjoining thing most of the governments in the world Are being run by the aid Of the corporates Only have a selfish agenda And strategy to sale Products, thoughts and  philosophy More and more and more ****** pigs Brainwashing minds of the people The sheeps Having a streak of global consumerism Selfish bunch of pigs And the brainwashed sheeps Say hell ya F***king hell ya F***k off Get out'a here ****** freaks Pigs and Sheeps
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102
The belated summer sky is alive with a  D r a g o n f l y ballet Beneath,.. the rain parched sod lay sullied, cracked open by an unsated thirstiness awaiting the painted autumn days and the cleansing rain's renewal A lace-winged hatch rises skyward — meandering  airborne — drifting upwards like a burst of dust dissipating in an invisible cloud of eventide's silent breath Darting shadows hover above a seeker's curiosity     just this side the   softening sunset backdrop A synthesis of fluid motion   – darting kinesis –     swift agile fliers steal away over the thirsty pond; their mesmerizing beauty enchants as the dimming dusk falls silent —- embellishing the unrelenting ending    another summer's  imminent curtain call; reminding how inexorable-time is only a contrived human notion, a recurring extrapolation   of passing  seasons Heightening awareness: how we too are only passing through these unholdable moments    coming to know     we cannot stop    how life unfolds The raindrops will quench the pond's aching thirst again one fall someday...   — hereafter — there will be another beauty of dragonflies some other eyes will see preying on another burgeoning gossamer-winged hatch           and another beckoning autumn when the dragonflies hover below the gazing totems      in the treetops Jesse Stillwater ... September 2018                                                 .
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Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 12:52 PM UTC
Ballerinas in the Waning Summer Sky
The belated summer sky is alive with a  D r a g o n f l y ballet Beneath,.. the rain parched sod lay sullied, cracked open by an unsated thirstiness awaiting the painted autumn days and the cleansing rain's renewal A lace-winged hatch rises skyward — meandering  airborne — drifting upwards like a burst of dust dissipating in an invisible cloud of eventide's silent breath Darting shadows hover above a seeker's curiosity     just this side the   softening sunset backdrop A synthesis of fluid motion   – darting kinesis –     swift agile fliers steal away over the thirsty pond; their mesmerizing beauty enchants as the dimming dusk falls silent —- embellishing the unrelenting ending    another summer's  imminent curtain call; reminding how inexorable-time is only a contrived human notion, a recurring extrapolation   of passing  seasons Heightening awareness: how we too are only passing through these unholdable moments    coming to know     we cannot stop    how life unfolds The raindrops will quench the pond's aching thirst again one fall someday...   — hereafter — there will be another beauty of dragonflies some other eyes will see preying on another burgeoning gossamer-winged hatch           and another beckoning autumn when the dragonflies hover below the gazing totems      in the treetops Jesse Stillwater ... September 2018                                                 .
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breathing the turquoise like lavender, and sipping the blue summer. bitter cold clouds glide and morph lava lather, floating whispers cut by sweet pineapple sunshine. soon, a moment, now rhythms ripple the sky like skipping stones we jump the music like puddles splashing in the frequencies. cobalt bass rumbles the earth hungry, pumps the air with springing spirals pushing and pulling the senses, reverberating through cells. heavy mud humming, stomping echoes through our atoms dizzy; balancing tuned body to innate electricity the fizz of circulating lemonade energy. we jump the music like puddles splashing in the frequencies. strawberry melodies spilling ribbons, dolphin leaps of the spaces inbetween beats, lines of colours overlapping, colliding, mixing, merging, blending in with the forest. washing over souls the life fire sparkles like a clear water cleansing harmonies, sound waves crashing against inertia. phosphorescent glow of re-charged love for the world, for being, animation flowing through burnt smoky ashes of sapphire charcoal skies; dimmed radiation of chlorophyll emerald days. the smell of salt, dry bark, fluffy carbon mists, trembling lights softening the eyes' grip on outlines, loosening lies. watching the cycles of patterns tumbling colours through a mill rotating, and the silence of listening when the music comes to an end.
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May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 8:19 PM UTC
Synesthesia
What She Look Like?    …Like one tenderly hushing water in her lap Elemental peace No place to go No more to be …Like the ocean in the background of a photo on a warm spring day belying rage and the random possible thrash-- out! at all guilty ******** in her path Toss in the next sentient soul who should happen to pass within range who should have seen who should have known what a storm could do…. Moody in the aftermath and sorrier than rain With the tide in retreat grumbling excuses Hiding out waist-deep in dusk’s Merlot Waiting for night to sleep it off to heal the rifts cleanse the shame Rising yellow, bright— and “What the hell happened, here?!” _______________ Her hair a winter’s tragedy of trees upside down— No wait— the wind has put her right to ragged random branches swaying, wet with intermittent hues of dark and silver caught in collar, flying inelegant and free at the shoulders of the levee tossed and softening shyly sagging jaw and nose a stump of tree All perspective changes… if you watch a while— She’ll raise her eyes into the sunset to catch an eagle entering flight …and then you might… ______________ She looks like— a pudgy robin querying grass mud soaked that hides the fire of her breast tugging at a worm more than half her length “I will feed them, **** you! Give it up, you son of a snake!” _______________ ...Don’t miss her hour of music though for anything Encroaching darkness from the rooftops she listens to the hearts she breaks Remember this in winter she can give but she will take it out on February when you’re longing for her
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Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 7:57 PM UTC
What She Looks Like
What She Look Like?    …Like one tenderly hushing water in her lap Elemental peace No place to go No more to be …Like the ocean in the background of a photo on a warm spring day belying rage and the random possible thrash-- out! at all guilty ******** in her path Toss in the next sentient soul who should happen to pass within range who should have seen who should have known what a storm could do…. Moody in the aftermath and sorrier than rain With the tide in retreat grumbling excuses Hiding out waist-deep in dusk’s Merlot Waiting for night to sleep it off to heal the rifts cleanse the shame Rising yellow, bright— and “What the hell happened, here?!” _______________ Her hair a winter’s tragedy of trees upside down— No wait— the wind has put her right to ragged random branches swaying, wet with intermittent hues of dark and silver caught in collar, flying inelegant and free at the shoulders of the levee tossed and softening shyly sagging jaw and nose a stump of tree All perspective changes… if you watch a while— She’ll raise her eyes into the sunset to catch an eagle entering flight …and then you might… ______________ She looks like— a pudgy robin querying grass mud soaked that hides the fire of her breast tugging at a worm more than half her length “I will feed them, **** you! Give it up, you son of a snake!” _______________ ...Don’t miss her hour of music though for anything Encroaching darkness from the rooftops she listens to the hearts she breaks Remember this in winter she can give but she will take it out on February when you’re longing for her
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The stars, your eyes, mingling, glistening Shivering tongues, softening, intertwining The gentle trembling of warm fingers The wet air is filled with whispers Crimsoning cheeks, the blushing of lips Hot sand caressing soaking flesh The velvet sky slowly sinks, darkens And falls upon our shadowy figures Round silver moon gazing over playful skin We laugh, we bathe in its ethereal glow Fearless hands searching, finding, exploring  pearls, treasure, long lost secret land Not long until like the waves we crash Dressed in thick foam to wash ashore Sweetly softened by the silken sun, we melt Into the heat of the golden morning.
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Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 6:00 PM UTC
Treasure
By the evening when it covers the earth softly in a veil of darkness. As all the colours change, from a bright inviting blue of the heavens, now softening, losing their glow, as shadows fall beneath the Earth When the last ray of sunlight has arrived the stars rise in order to claim the sky for themselves, as so does the moon, overshining them. Vision may shrink due the lack of light, causing many to get anxious if they would have to travel throughout the arrival of the night. The time to rest has been brought near, but some do choose to stay awake, gazing, observing, watching as the stars above them leave their gentle, slow and most importantly fascinating trail. Thus for them, the lovers of this declining day, made it their mission to stay awake and admire all the beauty the night serves them. A time of charming for those who share love, for those who have engaged themselves in the sweet embrace of slumber. As time goes on I lose myself in this wandering fragnance, until the light of the sun, manages to greet me for a fresh day. ~ Umi
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Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 9:12 AM UTC
The Evening
what is more gentle, than this pillow of the light? a life narrowing, in a bright feather dance that sweeps across the sea or covers our faces in shadows. where do you go when you leave me? now I am nocturnal, a bliss bandit, cooing at stars one thousand miles high. shaking like a tea kettle, I am the black *** black, shaking, shivering. Swallowing pieces of your light, in the back-room jungle where I sew, tears to the bottoms of my eyes, where no one ever goes. I know days, hours, one minute where I gambled time and stood behind you with my fingers on your shoulders and my mouth on your neck. What it takes to be apart, split in half, shucked from birth; it takes every thing I ever owned, every note I ever sang, each breath that I will make- some thought I stand up on, my knees quivering below me. five kinds of drugs just to see straight, to hold my hands steady or sleep at night. your lavender flavor is still in me. you in me. one. two. soaking in this forgotten city, Earth's heroes drifting away. I could never eat again, or cast a spell, or touch the same. while burning I may never stand on these same two feet again. four years, a photograph. one voice, softening into my skin, that I never may forget. that this beard is of an old man, should I never count again blessings or songs. I dive into the flame and study this journey backwards. so I should never forget, everything so serious as this as you, in me.
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Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 6:58 PM UTC
/hours\light/pe[n]guins/spirits\incantations/l[o]ves/ May 15, 2013 at 8:21pm
sitting in this mass of humanity recalibrating. sorrows unfolding joys riping. easy to judge easy to dismiss. difficult to be compassionate. difficult to see everyone as yourself. the illusion shifting & changing. tears and laughter that is all one can do. ever the duality of nature. ever following natural laws. resisting, going against the flow. only brings struggle and difficulty. surrendering to it all. moving along in the flow. breath comes easy. breath comes deeply. softening a stance. understanding a glance. easing your heart melting your hurt. the sun shines above the pine trees sway in the breeze. all moves along as it is meant to be.
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Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 2:08 PM UTC
recalibration
Blue is cool. Soft blue waves, Caressing the sand Saying it's going to be okay -- Calming blue -- Still water Slight ripples, Causing the water to live Blue is not heated. Ice cold glaciers, Hard as rock Slowly melting -- Hard blue -- Changing ice Softening heart, Making the calm blue Blue is understanding, forgiving, and slowing down.
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Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 12:16 AM UTC
Living Color - Blue
Pleasure, oh pleasure sitting in silence Among the lime trees The silence of delight A perfect pardon Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees No hurry, no hurry To go anywhere While strangers offer smiles Such perfect smiles Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Magic a specialisation A practical specialisation Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees People of all kinds Come streaming by Pilot people Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees People passing with such power Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees All power is violence Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Pleasure, oh pleasure Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees No power is needed here Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Only truth and justice Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees No grievous ache remains a mystery Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees That purple mass made clear Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees An aroma here Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees An exuding stupefying aroma Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees That startles the sparrows Identical sparrows Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Other silence is unequal Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees A quivering tenor of silence Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Gilded silence that flashes Hazily across the vision Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Frenzied silence, irresistible silence Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Silence split into fragments Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Fragments that remain intact Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Silence that vanishes from sight Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees A severed silence That remains infused Golden and deceptive Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Like split up bandits On the run Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Who race up two Different boulevards Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees A day return silence Always nervous and irritable Sitting her in silence Among the lime trees A softening handsome Lilac colored silence Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Regal in its resonance Of romance Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees A silence of scarlet kerchiefs Wears a tail coat Has black raven hair Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Trying to catch spiders Rats, little devils and dogs Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Day breaks Inexorably in silence Over the poet Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees The unstoppable Silence of silence Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Such silence once started Is unstoppable Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Such as the strange silence One finds in snow Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Silence in a deserted shout Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Oh such silent noise Such silent noise Silent noise, silent
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Sep 28, 2012
Sep 28, 2012 at 3:46 PM UTC
Silence among the lime trees
Pleasure, oh pleasure sitting in silence Among the lime trees The silence of delight A perfect pardon Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees No hurry, no hurry To go anywhere While strangers offer smiles Such perfect smiles Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Magic a specialisation A practical specialisation Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees People of all kinds Come streaming by Pilot people Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees People passing with such power Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees All power is violence Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Pleasure, oh pleasure Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees No power is needed here Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Only truth and justice Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees No grievous ache remains a mystery Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees That purple mass made clear Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees An aroma here Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees An exuding stupefying aroma Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees That startles the sparrows Identical sparrows Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Other silence is unequal Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees A quivering tenor of silence Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Gilded silence that flashes Hazily across the vision Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Frenzied silence, irresistible silence Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Silence split into fragments Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Fragments that remain intact Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Silence that vanishes from sight Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees A severed silence That remains infused Golden and deceptive Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Like split up bandits On the run Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Who race up two Different boulevards Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees A day return silence Always nervous and irritable Sitting her in silence Among the lime trees A softening handsome Lilac colored silence Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Regal in its resonance Of romance Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees A silence of scarlet kerchiefs Wears a tail coat Has black raven hair Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Trying to catch spiders Rats, little devils and dogs Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Day breaks Inexorably in silence Over the poet Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees The unstoppable Silence of silence Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Such silence once started Is unstoppable Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Such as the strange silence One finds in snow Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Silence in a deserted shout Sitting here in silence Among the lime trees Oh such silent noise Such silent noise Silent noise, silent
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131
Happy the lab'rer in his Sunday clothes! In light-drab coat, smart waistcoat, well-darn'd hose, Andhat upon his head, to church he goes; As oft, with conscious pride, he downward throws A glance upon the ample cabbage rose That, stuck in button-hole, regales his nose, He envies not the gayest London beaux. In church he takes his seat among the rows, Pays to the place the reverence he owes, Likes best the prayers whose meaning least he knows, Lists to the sermon in a softening doze, And rouses joyous at the welcome close.
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Happy the Lab'rer
These are not,  "possibilities," decisions are already made. You do not live in a democracy. War is coming; Iran and Syria. Nuclear Supremacy is not an, "ideal," or notion, it is a fact. They are stating a fact. Not opinion, -they intend to do it. I used To think that if you readE, read enough, studied, you'D see? Brighter minds would stop it! "Fool;" those minds are planning it! Policy Papers are not policy at all, they are cushions, a softening pillory. Designed to lay a foundation. Where you play sucker for war. N.W.A -New World Apocalypse-
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Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 9:49 PM UTC
Policy Papers
Many have heard that “No man is an island.” And over most circumstances, no one has control. So I ask you… “Have you found purpose for your life?” “With your identity, are you fulfilling your role?” Escape the snare of delusional grandeur, for God Almighty has an assignment for you. Are you prepared with your life skills and has your Kingdom mission come into view? Previous individuals came to you (before me) and broke the fallow ground of your heart. Has the message of Salvation burst within you? Are you wanting to serve, but have not started? Has the “sown seed” inside you… been watered? Are you on the verge of a spiritual epiphany? Do you require wisdom, guidance or experience? Can you determine, why you’re unable to see? The grittiness of human interaction serves us as “sandpaper of life”, softening one’s spirit. We’re to learn from each other, apply God’s Word and strive to live life… without earthly limits. Having vested interests in others helps us to sincerely love one another; walking in Godly unions and relationships, bonds us as Christian sisters and brothers. Remember the complete story of Queen Esther, whose success was possible by efforts of Mordecai. Become involved in the ministry of destiny helpers… For Christ promised to meet our needs against His Supply. Author Notes: Loosely based on: 1 Cor 3:1-10; Esther Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved.
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Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 10:59 AM UTC
Poem: Destiny Helpers
Many have heard that “No man is an island.” And over most circumstances, no one has control. So I ask you… “Have you found purpose for your life?” “With your identity, are you fulfilling your role?” Escape the snare of delusional grandeur, for God Almighty has an assignment for you. Are you prepared with your life skills and has your Kingdom mission come into view? Previous individuals came to you (before me) and broke the fallow ground of your heart. Has the message of Salvation burst within you? Are you wanting to serve, but have not started? Has the “sown seed” inside you… been watered? Are you on the verge of a spiritual epiphany? Do you require wisdom, guidance or experience? Can you determine, why you’re unable to see? The grittiness of human interaction serves us as “sandpaper of life”, softening one’s spirit. We’re to learn from each other, apply God’s Word and strive to live life… without earthly limits. Having vested interests in others helps us to sincerely love one another; walking in Godly unions and relationships, bonds us as Christian sisters and brothers. Remember the complete story of Queen Esther, whose success was possible by efforts of Mordecai. Become involved in the ministry of destiny helpers… For Christ promised to meet our needs against His Supply. Author Notes: Loosely based on: 1 Cor 3:1-10; Esther Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved.
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34
There is a certain romance of incomplete stories and unrequited passion.... A certain heroism , in unfulfilled ambitions and sacrificed wants ... (There is also Selfishness in altruism, Mockery in humility... Fragility of pretenses, Deception of senses, Armors of sensitivities... all those nitty gritties, paradoxes that haunt etc, but then...) Sometimes this happens, love stays and we go. Sometimes this happens, there is no beginning, nor end: through “ifs” and “buts” priorities distend the space between, what is seen and what has been. I picked your hopes with my eyelashes and thatched together a shade for us You caught my fall in the web of your thoughts, softening for me, the landing, and thus, we built a dream.   Sometimes this happens the stars are buried in the desert sands the lines dissect though you’re holding hands but for the heart that understands.... it’s all divine. Not yours nor mine. Sometimes this happens one understands, but it’s not enough one knows, but accepting is still pretty rough You may have all ingredients but you still need a “here” and a “now” no question of why? or what? or how... Sometimes this happens the wait becomes unbearable so remember that you know.... time is deceptive and it’s already tomorrow in Tokyo Arshia. Nov 26/27, 2017
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Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 2:17 AM UTC
It’s already tomorrow in Tokyo
Grandmother Willow said listen to your heart, you will understand but when it pounds all I want to do is run my heart says so many things one minute it's telling me to climb a tree as high as the branches let me the next it says hook line and sinker and when I'm with someone beautiful, it says nothing, it just flutters and pitter patters Mulan was always my favourite because she had her heart broken and still She Saved China all on her own my heart breaks like twigs and crumbles like dry stiff leaves in Autumn and my heart is also a rubber ball that bounces from one place to the next too rapidly, I forget where I am and where I just was a moment before I ended up wherever I ended up my heart is like ice and sometimes if you are the right temperature, it will melt for you my heart is aware of fallacy and sometimes if you try to coax it, everything I ever felt for you won't exist anymore a few months ago I was sitting at the back of a midnight bus in my hometown, with a hippie headband on, accompanied with braids, a long dress and moccasins of black suede when a drunk teenager pointed and hollered directly at my face, "you look like Pocahontas, how many John Smiths love you?" I don't get angry anymore I just get tired my heart goes to sleep for days and wakes up at the sudden gong of recognition in eye contact that lasts longer than just a few seconds; my heart awakens at sunsets, when I am sitting in a tree alone and it awakens each time I successfully skip a stone I've always thought highly of the two disney cartoons and it's not just because they can fire a harpoon it's something like embodying the female self-assurance, strength of the soul, embracing solitude like wind on a stroll heart strong from a softening, heart loved from singing just for singing heart open like eye contact that lasts longer than just a few seconds
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Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 3:33 AM UTC
pocahontas & mulan
Grandmother Willow said listen to your heart, you will understand but when it pounds all I want to do is run my heart says so many things one minute it's telling me to climb a tree as high as the branches let me the next it says hook line and sinker and when I'm with someone beautiful, it says nothing, it just flutters and pitter patters Mulan was always my favourite because she had her heart broken and still She Saved China all on her own my heart breaks like twigs and crumbles like dry stiff leaves in Autumn and my heart is also a rubber ball that bounces from one place to the next too rapidly, I forget where I am and where I just was a moment before I ended up wherever I ended up my heart is like ice and sometimes if you are the right temperature, it will melt for you my heart is aware of fallacy and sometimes if you try to coax it, everything I ever felt for you won't exist anymore a few months ago I was sitting at the back of a midnight bus in my hometown, with a hippie headband on, accompanied with braids, a long dress and moccasins of black suede when a drunk teenager pointed and hollered directly at my face, "you look like Pocahontas, how many John Smiths love you?" I don't get angry anymore I just get tired my heart goes to sleep for days and wakes up at the sudden gong of recognition in eye contact that lasts longer than just a few seconds; my heart awakens at sunsets, when I am sitting in a tree alone and it awakens each time I successfully skip a stone I've always thought highly of the two disney cartoons and it's not just because they can fire a harpoon it's something like embodying the female self-assurance, strength of the soul, embracing solitude like wind on a stroll heart strong from a softening, heart loved from singing just for singing heart open like eye contact that lasts longer than just a few seconds
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55
Angie works the alleys that reek of greasy sausages and **** where beer-bellied men appear and vanish into doorway varnish of invisible rooms, spitting on their own doorsteps, stubby fingers running over stained vests and wire wool guts. Harry lives out yonder where plastic bags’ ballet shoes are made of glue; he is sharing a hit with a dreadlocked kid, just another invisible face, a phantom-surfer nurse, to assist him in chasing the ultimate high on highway number twenty-two. Invisible, hairy hands hold her down; Angie has to swallow, she can feel the pulsating vein of a softening **** over her tongue and swollen lips – she gives it a good old slap against her cheek, grabs the package, and makes sure no one follows. Harry’s clawing at a face in that place where reality floats between the tip of the needle and the desperate edge of chemical dependency - his little angel taps him on the shoulder; he turns around, and stabs her in the throat.
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Feb 5, 2011
Feb 5, 2011 at 11:32 PM UTC
The Ballad of 'Heroin' Harry and 'Amsterdam' Angie and the Invisible People
In the middle of the night, we were cold rolling stones in an empty street. Our souls bundled up with some sense of permanence as you walked me home for the last time; It was home, for the last time. The darkness of night trespassed my secret shelter, at the lingering of our embrace. The first and last warmth I had felt, was yours. Morning would be colder, I might not feel the same acquaintance with autumn as I had with you. I walked with you under trees, spots of sunlight rested on our skin and clothes; orange-gold leaves falling around our bodies, softening the ground, beneath our feet. In our innocent nature, we stood in defeat.
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Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 11:19 AM UTC
Autumn Love
ground may as well be a sponge, so much rain Saturday, had a hunch, to build an Ark, but the strength of an old promise, made me think twice, and the small amount of lumber in the garage, thrice. "Faith ... would be nice" I am sure, that voice echoed in my head. yet today, as I walked and I wondered, how the air was so sweet and clear, I saw, the pride of them gathering, as they prepared to bloom, the rain had swept the grounds,                        of all the ***** germs, enough rainfall there IT watered the worms, softening up the dirt, so the crocus flowers could come out to play. The leader of the Crocus Band, his name was Stripes go to instagram, for a view of the leaves behind, spikes, leaning into his role and a leader, close at hand he, chooses a humble stance as an example, see? Be wary of this Crocus, He may Spring, focused, Seeing Winter is now bogus, on the West coast.   His name is Stripes,  earning every one. ©DWE032014
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Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 8:59 PM UTC
The Crocus
Do you know what it means to have a moment encapsulated and remain enthralled with an utterance for what seems a century? Or more? It isn't your voice or your beleaguered indiscretion it is not your rounded shoulders and body (language) speaking of consequential truths its the way your words round my hard thoughts, softening and falling to slide off the firm curve of my breast. Feeling each individual letter glide delightfully around my mouth after being in yours and I taste something new amid a festival of enunciation. There is false bravado in me and you slip it off, along with my clothes. I'm left naked and shy almost hiding now, what I previously wanted to share so much. Almost, as your tender words guide an embrace I fall in love for the first time with a word knowing you can only ever possess me physically.
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Sep 20, 2010
Sep 20, 2010 at 8:17 PM UTC
I want something *** cannot satisfy.
her smile glowing like a moonlight in the sky, soft as feather, brighter than a star. my eyes can't process how beautiful all i can do is admire it i asked the moon, “why do I feel this way? why do the stars all dim everytime i saw her?” it sighed, “because her light outshines the night she’s not just beauty, she’s the reason why.” “i wish i were beside her,” i sighed to the moon. “what would you do?” it asked, softening its glow. my heart beating fast, “just let her know she’s my dream, and i want it to be true.”
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Apr 4, 2025
Apr 4, 2025 at 11:21 AM UTC
to the moon, about her
I remember the first time I ********** I thought I was having a seizure- or that I had somehow malfunctioned the Matrix and had broken through a fold of reality; some white-noise ladder to greater plains, throbbing, animal convulsions, and a peak that only death could overpower. I remember crashing into shame upon my return, versus the smug welcome of oxytocin and my adult life; not knowing to what extent my ***** would dominate my mind; you know, I cannot write a poem without noticing my loneliness, all the ******** I have left behind. For that moment, in my New Found ****** I was paralysed at the thought of a sober life, and ever since that moment, ever since that night, I have been searching for those higher plains in the lowest branches of myself. Now I smoke my fill and redden my eyes to bleed out old anxieties, dry up old tears whilst softening scars that I have collected over years spent indoors, hiding from danger. I remember the first time I ********** how it came to me by accident, a repeated motion of unknown emotions; the undulations in her breath; even now I still sit by myself, and make love out of whatever is left.
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Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 5:21 PM UTC
My First ****
As a matter of fact "I Do" This particular hospital visit has become an UnKnown drifting barge of cold, Dismal,a bit austere and forlorn Fatigue and tension was an early onset of the week. Spent most the time looking for relief Every attempt gave life to a unique defeat An Inexorable desire for the calm to anoint me I volunteer, then become abased, when they don't appoint me Irritated When Lustful walls castigate me Now the needle sings a seductive serenade of sedition, Slowly, softening the soul to surrender to sleep and submission That is the mental, and physical surrender, but what of the spiritual and emotional exhortation for permission? I remain here not home I prepare for the pain all alone Dilaudid stirring up my veins and then some Hoping to endow or maim some predilection from U, -Alexis-
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Nov 10, 2012
Nov 10, 2012 at 3:10 AM UTC
AS A MATTER OF FACT "I DO"
From deep within the cavern of my heart a stream of truth is rising. Like clear water rising through the rock of ages it flows. It caresses the rock softening its edges, leaving it still strong and sure. From deep within the womb of my body a seed of truth is rising, warming to the sweetness of a newly radiant heart. From deep within the jewel of my heart the light of love is shining. Vast is the one unbounded space within me, all around me. Vast is the one lovely moment which is right here, and which is right now.
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Jul 26, 2016
Jul 26, 2016 at 1:03 AM UTC
Cavern of My Heart, My Womb of Truth
Take my hand stranger, for thy hand fits perfectly in mine for there is no reason to be insecure The lines of our hands cross each other, floating rivers meeting, like an estuary, passionately touching,  but never perfectly fitting (as real love should be) Our nails glancing to each other; the same happens when your blue eyes meet my greenies Our skins stunning each other,  blushing, softening the insecurities they both feel Our joints silly wrestling with each other; O the subtle touch of them Take my hand stranger, for thy hand fits perfectly in mine for there is no reason to be insecure
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Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
Take my hand stranger
as spring awakens so does my heart it's been packed away for the cold of winter but now my heart is thawing the soil is softening and i need someone to plant their flowers here because my heart is ready to be nurtured to feel nourished and to flourish into the beautiful blossoms that deserve to grow in my vacant heart
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Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 2:45 PM UTC
spring desire