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"stales" poems
I have been living in these huts lately, As this life seems aimless and desultory, Slowly flowing like the splash of drops over the board, Hallelujah . For me, it's still our God's handwritten story. Two cents quietly sit in my little pockets , And they still fit perfectly in each, Same as our feelings, as they huddle around our hearts, Occupying the bijou portions and trying not to leach. I will hold on till the day, staggering away, In my tattered clothes, till the color withers and my story stales, Lingering in the huts, with a hue of nostalgia, Ailing but not wailing, after a series of massive fails. Before God finishes writing my story, I believe he will hand me the pen, its a fact, not a lie, And with you by my side, I will scribble my glory, I'll dress you your Gossamer, and myself a Suit and a tie.
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Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 11:08 AM UTC
My hut , My mansion
* Pure euhedrals of unique    **refraction          captured              upon               an       open lotus flower, blossoming in effulgence        unswerving          throughout     piezos &       stales of a thousand          vacuous                     neurons*
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Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 11:12 AM UTC
Of stones, in silent radiance
as conscious mode, vague aboutness, it stales romance in metaphysic stench, this telic sense, unlike the comfort of a family nest my locus drifts on wind i'd rather culture in a jar on the counter (no secrets there) or even cellared responding to the world's response, anthophilous com][part][mental-mania warehoused too for sticky label stigma-sized cover-glint akin with stamp of human frailty, resource that i am, far from pink and snow banana plants no inward passion of a chimpanzee in chains though i assume the name pan troglodytes applies to me as any species, or much more, riddled with neuroses, caves every each to steal away from being seen, from open goals to shade concerns, rotted fancies manifestering the soil by the laundy-bin abysm-- commode in time, this musa media mind so urgent in its pseudostemming scour will flower unsterile and so find its fruit with bunching finger fronding infloresce and write about it in the bloom
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Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 8:30 PM UTC
fruit flower intentionality
Summers ago when he was ten his first blush was born from her glance on his yard fell the first rain he had but met her only once. Most precious gift gave her tiny hand one that he kept in a matchbox no ring it was a red rubber band long lost still at his heart knocks. How can stop time by a girl's whim stales never a moment of closeness when love was an unripened dream lust was an unknown address. The boy soon grew to become a man the girl went to some faraway land they come but once in one lifespan his first blush her hand's rubber band.
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Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 1:37 AM UTC
Rubber Band
The blood of Christ Constantly dripping over my life Listen hear I am blood bought My King took the punishment  for sin...rugged and uncut Blood sport No mark of the beast I'm talking the mark of the free Blood of the lamb yes his blood marks his sheep.. Death pass by my front door **** the Egyptian first born Jesus beat from limb to limb..the sight of flesh scorned Oh my Lord your beard it was tore Off .. Bless it savior you fulfill the laws Kings blood only type that could pay the cost And save the lost I bang blood with no gang affiliations Striped naked sin causes  humiliation One death saved humanity every civilization You see sin stales life sterilization Kings blood brings life  fertilization Not talking zombies, when the dead start raising I meant rising. Followers of King Jesus we behind him Like the man from Verizon The world denied him and still denies him Died once and rose into forever ..the key to our eternal survival People open the Bible Satan's no rival Hells hot  souls drenched in sweat no Cabo I stand as a man ...A witness Anointed in Kings blood White and Red blood cells..healing, health, love
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Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 10:27 PM UTC
Kings Blood
Yesterday I wrote to a judge on the behalf of an old friend who has done the unthinkable. “Sitting where you are, Your Honor, you could not possibly know the boy”—the man, the What do you call it when the desire of an “I told you so!” stales to nothingness. Silence. Everybody is invincible “30 years.” the voice came through the collect call from County. “They gave me thirty, thanks for nothing,” said the the murderer. But now there’s nothing for you, but time and prison wine.
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Dec 23, 2016
Dec 23, 2016 at 11:16 PM UTC
Time & Prison Wine
Life's so unfair, Tempting and rough. Prey to despair, Taunting and tough. To earn a dime, She became enslaved; Becoming crime Begging to be saved. Her pains smile, Her bruises tell tales; Many miry miles, So sour it still stales. One fateful day She braced her senses, Then walk'd away From her own offenses. She said goodbye To today from tomorrow; Ventured into sky To fly away from sorrow.
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May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 4:09 AM UTC
Walk Away
Not magick, nor the fires of Heaven Can outshine the beauty of thy charm Burnished bright in colours heathen That stoke the shuddering spirit warm When stars have died and run out of colour And marble and monuments decay Your truth will be embossed, for time fuller Written lucid on the sky, clear as day Next to you illusion pales And is made diminished, menial The urge for superfluous passion stales Deepest desires become congenial    O Beauty, with burning eyes arise    From enchanting peripheries
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Feb 10, 2017
Feb 10, 2017 at 1:59 AM UTC
Not Magick, Nor The Fires Of Heaven
static, motionless death stales life eternally sorrows now entombed
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Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 12:23 PM UTC
static, motionless
When a relationship stales It’s easier to fade away with it Rather than try to fix it It is easier to give up Sort through the disappointment on your own Trying to remember who you are Who they fell for in the beginning The person they soon loved That you lost along the years Forgetting to love yourself It’s a crying shame But a day will come when you will regain your electric spirit And you will fly Soar In your magic But to get there You must let the broken pieces fall Settle in their own time There is no race to coming back to you Just remember that you want to Because avoidance is a fool’s game
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Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 4:19 PM UTC
Untitled
Clothed with the stars Even the sweetest rose stales in comparison For you the heaven grows hot Causing hell to sweat As a glimpse of your beauty Sends ripples of unimaginable pleasure Even the universe lusts after it's own kind Your love is a universal one U are a universe.
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Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 8:55 AM UTC
Universe in me