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"stead" poems
it is funny, you will be dead some day. By you the mouth hair eyes,and i mean the unique and nervously obscene need;it’s funny. They will all be dead knead of lustfulhunched deeplytoplay lips and stare the gross fuzzy-pash —dead—and the dark gold delicately smash…. grass,and the stars,of my shoulder in stead. It is a funny,thing. And you will be and i and all the days and nights that matter knocked by sun moon jabbed ****** with ecstasy ….tremble (not knowing how much better than me will you like the rain’s face and the rich improbable hands of the Wind)
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69.5k
It Is Funny, You Will Be Dead Some Day
*Jesus, please set my bound heart free Let not this world my prison be Where fear and shame would pull me down To suffocate and cause me to drown 'Stead loose my soul that it may soar Heavy, fettered, chained no more So You can lead me to the hills Away from where 'perfection' kills In You alone my worth is found What joy immense, this truth profound To know I'm precious in Your sight My strength, my hope, my life's delight Surrendered now to Your control 'Tis love which heals my wounded soul Convinced that I can trust Your heart Toward me, to You my cares I impart And selfish may I no more be But lend me eyes that I might see The wounds which other souls still have To give to them Your healing salve That You might take their tender pain And turn it to eternal gain So suffering may not wasted be But used to set our cold hearts free Then we who in triumphant praise More closely on Your face may gaze Beholding all Your beauty vast Held tight to You, content at last!*
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Aug 3, 2017
Aug 3, 2017 at 11:49 PM UTC
~ Whom the Son Sets Free ~
"sly wordplay, it glows, feels like a shimmering address, half warning and half blessing, really alive with cadence" read Kiki Dresden poetry^ once more into the sea trench divide, I dive to devise, Your provoking comment, demands my full attention, you divert me from struggling with ginger & clay, a contra concept that molds and enflames, yet strikes overtly sweet, it does not come so easy as this playful notion But your words deserve the attention immédiate atenção imediata that births this script, tumbling forth in an instantly instantaneously me student, you mistress~master, schooling me on sublimity subliminal, capturing the capering stylistic that bursts forth from within, that my fingertips provide, while my brain connives & connivers continuously you overlay analytics that never are to me revealed, the what and wherefore of the whom hiding within of the im~perpetuity impish essence of i m p ishness by charmingly doing me, not once, but many times better here a spillage: an observational ditty, dressed in a tux, most formally, to render the greatest wordplay ever invented t, the uniqueness of a simple thank you my favorite poem a forever for ever, the song that plys and plays me in the me so often, the linguists have banned the word repeatedly from my lexicon so in its stead, this all-in-one mighty steed (verb phrase, a noun, or an adjective depending on its usage) this phatic expression, here disguised in Portuguese, muito obrigado! muito obrigado! muito obrigado!                                                                     nml 5:39am nyc 10/4, 10/4
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Oct 4, 2025
Oct 4, 2025 at 5:44 AM UTC
Love of Wordplay for Kiki Dresden
"sly wordplay, it glows, feels like a shimmering address, half warning and half blessing, really alive with cadence" read Kiki Dresden poetry^ once more into the sea trench divide, I dive to devise, Your provoking comment, demands my full attention, you divert me from struggling with ginger & clay, a contra concept that molds and enflames, yet strikes overtly sweet, it does not come so easy as this playful notion But your words deserve the attention immédiate atenção imediata that births this script, tumbling forth in an instantly instantaneously me student, you mistress~master, schooling me on sublimity subliminal, capturing the capering stylistic that bursts forth from within, that my fingertips provide, while my brain connives & connivers continuously you overlay analytics that never are to me revealed, the what and wherefore of the whom hiding within of the im~perpetuity impish essence of i m p ishness by charmingly doing me, not once, but many times better here a spillage: an observational ditty, dressed in a tux, most formally, to render the greatest wordplay ever invented t, the uniqueness of a simple thank you my favorite poem a forever for ever, the song that plys and plays me in the me so often, the linguists have banned the word repeatedly from my lexicon so in its stead, this all-in-one mighty steed (verb phrase, a noun, or an adjective depending on its usage) this phatic expression, here disguised in Portuguese, muito obrigado! muito obrigado! muito obrigado!                                                                     nml 5:39am nyc 10/4, 10/4
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67
*O Lord, please set my bound heart free Let not this world my prison be Where fear and shame would pull me down To suffocate and cause me to drown 'Stead loose my soul that it may soar Heavy, fettered, chained no more So You can lead me to the hills Away from where "perfection" kills In You alone my worth is found What joy immense, this truth profound To know I'm precious in Your sight My strength, my hope, my life's delight Surrendered now to Your control 'Tis love which heals my wounded soul Convinced that I can trust Your heart Toward me, to You my cares I impart And selfish may I no more be But lend me eyes that I might see The wounds which other souls still have To give to them Your healing salve That You might take their tender pain And turn it to eternal gain So suffering may not wasted be But used to set our cold hearts free Then we who in triumphant praise More closely on Your face may gaze Beholding all Your beauty vast Held tight to You, content at last!*
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Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 2:47 PM UTC
Peace
Sleeping in a silent forest night sky come and swallow me whole I promise I won't protest These stars may fill my tired soul And these trees, oh, how I love thee Lush and green, dark and eerie This is where I long to be Here is where I'd never be weary I put my life onto the earth Dig myself a hole for a bed This is where lies all lifes worth Here everything is, I miss nothing I haven't had Roots may pervade me, leafs shall cover And in my stead another will grow I will dissolve in the arms of my last lover And of all misfortune it will never speak nor will it show On new branches my soul will hang until another
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Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 7:13 AM UTC
Sepulchre
by rgpage naked  this night on soft satin sheets his arm ‘round her shoulders, his lover’s head rests her hair fills his nostrils with a scented bouquet as fingers explore love’s affectionate quest. tenderly lips touch in a loving lead legs interlocking add to the play. arms then wrap tightly pulling each other in their hearts beating faster to join in the fray. her ******* he kisses a sensuous gift, she feels his love grow with each loving turn. the curve of her back feels his fondling stroke to capture this feeling forever they yearn. his senses now heightened, his love at the ready to soon to the feast, the more he will miss. he must gain control and reign himself steady for her love, her beauty, and her freely offered bliss. their heart guided souls in lustful play to their senses’ delivered a bountiful tray. their love and youth play this night away, ‘til the dawn’s early light  brings in a new day. their lips now swollen, bruised, and red hearts full of love, love’s watershed. the fast night’s hours have swept past their bed ‘til night ties are severed with the sun in their stead. as that night flew by so have the years, his only love has since passed away. he turns out the light perched next to the chair, and off  to bed slowly ending his day. their children all gone one by one they’ve all grown, occasionally stopping by w/ little time to spare. w/ families and jobs and homes of their own making the time to show that they care. even though she’s gone he’s still not alone he talks to her daily when he is at rest. even though she’s gone good memories he keeps God holds the others, and he kept the best…
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Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 3:12 AM UTC
memories
by rgpage naked  this night on soft satin sheets his arm ‘round her shoulders, his lover’s head rests her hair fills his nostrils with a scented bouquet as fingers explore love’s affectionate quest. tenderly lips touch in a loving lead legs interlocking add to the play. arms then wrap tightly pulling each other in their hearts beating faster to join in the fray. her ******* he kisses a sensuous gift, she feels his love grow with each loving turn. the curve of her back feels his fondling stroke to capture this feeling forever they yearn. his senses now heightened, his love at the ready to soon to the feast, the more he will miss. he must gain control and reign himself steady for her love, her beauty, and her freely offered bliss. their heart guided souls in lustful play to their senses’ delivered a bountiful tray. their love and youth play this night away, ‘til the dawn’s early light  brings in a new day. their lips now swollen, bruised, and red hearts full of love, love’s watershed. the fast night’s hours have swept past their bed ‘til night ties are severed with the sun in their stead. as that night flew by so have the years, his only love has since passed away. he turns out the light perched next to the chair, and off  to bed slowly ending his day. their children all gone one by one they’ve all grown, occasionally stopping by w/ little time to spare. w/ families and jobs and homes of their own making the time to show that they care. even though she’s gone he’s still not alone he talks to her daily when he is at rest. even though she’s gone good memories he keeps God holds the others, and he kept the best…
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38
Before I knew it I darted towards her like a train. Barreling toward her fast as I could. Inhaling deep, releasing deep huff. The rumble of what came to be manifested before I was seen. The notion of steam clouds and rod hot like iron. Darting past the station. Caution thrown to the wind in a solid fluid motion. The rumble of my heart lead the way. Stead fast, the scenery of steeping in front of emotion. Track after track. Winding and twisting with nothing to block the way. I shot into a tunnel. Stepping head first into what I have always known. The express route to desire. To inhale in ultimate asphyxiation. The next station miles and miles away. We were punctual. Breaking down in deep huff. Trails of smoke funnel where I lost my breath
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May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 1:30 PM UTC
Like A Train
Its funny how it goes, how within the throes, of passion and of death One is aside, another gains breath I leave with a stumble, and a look behind. And I find myself fumbling, for cleanliness, and absolution And to the One who was shuffled and moved, with wires crossed-- I do not know the meaning of this, or the path which my feet tread. And maybe with some dread, She moves in your stead.
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Jun 4, 2012
Jun 4, 2012 at 10:13 PM UTC
The stumble
The news arrived Of the new arrival. We grant him All the Rights, Privileges, And Responsibilities Accorded to A son, brother, And grandson. May his endowment Of love and honour Stand him in good stead.
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Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 2:45 PM UTC
Hear Ye, Hear Ye
I am a sunflower I am not a rose -- the bloom of the rose does not need to proclaim itself loudly to the world -- its very perfume is the witness of its own sweetness.   I was a psychiatric patient for awhile. This long period of enforced inactivity induced in me a love of reading which stood me in good stead. It made the inner life of thought and imagination intensely real to me at a very early stage. This used to absorb my attention so much, when a book was in my hand, that I became almost oblivious to what was going on around me. During these early days of rapid mental growth, a glorious treasure-trove suddenly opened up to me  (like a flower) a whole new world of fantasy and gave me its right of entrance into fresh realms of thought. My heart feel victim to my past lovers like the drug you were supposed to leave alone for awhile cigarettes became my only companions ; Lielanie too she helped with a sunflower like conversations I was enlightened and now I must grow again for my roots are starting to rot once again - my twitter followers and friends are the reason why I'm alive for I could vent and you; subliminally listen Thank You.
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Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 11:20 AM UTC
Sunflowers.
I fell in love twice the first time. First pinching myself assuring the initial first. The initial first I realized how silent love was. Seeing all but hearing nothing. This was my first kiss. Coming into contact with a quiver my lips have never before felt. Falling in love twice. Certain that I am uncertain of nothing. Learning to speak a new language. Lips poked out. Exposed to foreign land. Overlooking my feet. My ship never before having sailed. Day turned to night. My heart stead fast. Crashing against the ripple of tides. The experience of something new, Tides pulled by the hull of rubber soles. Our arms like anchors. Our feet hesitant, losing all feeling of finding ground. Our tongue the cargo set to provide entry  into things no longer forbidden. Night reconstructs day. The initial first of two times I fell in love. Eyes closed. Our breath becoming more shallow, Passing through the canal of each others mouths. Overlooking the side of my nose against hers. An anchor dropped. Chain link after chain link, plunged deep Far from the shore of everything I knew. My shoes soaked. The pavement with every reason to worry. Forever fractured. This anchor falling faster and faster. Without worry of kink
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Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 7:44 PM UTC
Twice
An Evil Pumpkin Witch reigning over the pumpkin patch Planning something sinister not being Pumpkinville’s match But here is the catch The Pumpkin Head Witch was vanished centuries ago from the Pumpkin patch Through our journeys on hills and our thinking on still Pumpkinville’s town folks decreed a curse Somehow from the latch the Pumpkin Head Witch was freed in reverse Now the witch is determined to get her revenge Darkness casts over Pumpkinville as doom with an end Danger in the air raging from multitude pumpkin heads It was a showering effect like a stead Warriors being the pumpkin heads The Pumpkin Head Witch’s spell The citizens in commotion could sense in tell A sigh at the moment of Oh well But Pumpkinville had a plan of their own However the citizens can’t say as it is a spell and they don’t want it to be known The Evil Pumpkin Witch is having a time in her stride The hour is now, but there is no sign for abide Yet the town of Pumpkinville all run for some place to hide But for the record in Pumpkinville’s book All it takes is just one look Pumpkinville’s wish in their own spell Only seconds remaining that will tell The wizardry of evil that might sell The skies remain black and for Pumpkinville to just stand back Lightening verses the foe, but fate will determine the outcome of the flow.
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Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 4:58 PM UTC
THE EVIL PUMPKIN HEAD WITCH
O Buddha, the gold vein of thy sermon of mercy ran through gloom-gorged, rocky hearts, and illumined their darkness. Thou loftiest soarer of renunciation's skies, beneath thy God-lifted eyes, the kingdom of sense-comfort, the rivers of gross greed, the vast and lust-scorched deserts of desire, the tall trees of temporal ambition, the cactus plants of prickly world-worries—all melt into invisible smallness. Buddha, the arc-light of thy sympathy sought to melt the hardness of cruel hearts. Once thou didst save a lamb by offering thyself in its stead. Thy solemn thoughts still silently roam through the ether of minds, searching for ecstasy-tuned hearts. Seated beneath the banyan bodhi tree, thou didst make a solemn tryst with the Spirit: "Beneath the banyan bough, On the sacred seat I take this vow: Let derma, bones, and fleeting flesh dissolve; Until the mysteries of life I solve, And receive the all-coveted Priceless Lore, From this place I shall stir, never, nevermore." Thou symbol of sympathy, incarnation of mercy, give us thy determination, that we may seek truth as doggedly as thou didst. Bless us, that we may be awakened, like thee, to seek remedy for the sorrow-throbs of others as we seek it for ourselves. From: Whispers from Eternity A Book of Answered Prayers 1949 Edition
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Come To Me as Buddha
A paper with ink that every student hates to do It’s so annoying when you cant get it because the teacher didn’t explain to you how to do it so you don’t get it, but the smart girl in your class said every one gets it, so the teacher shuts up, but on the inside you want to turn around and scream “No ones as smart as you!” but you don’t because you don’t want to be a bother, but as you sit in your bed you think what the frig I should have asked, but in stead of doing my homework I go on something called Facebook where everyone writes about other people and there problems there having that no one in the world seriously cares about so you scroll till you see a fight that is pretty pointless, but you still get the popcorn and read everything they said because its better then doing any thing else, but you see that girl that deals with anorexia and start to think why does she do that to herself she’s skinny, I know the mirror can be cruel sometimes, but she’s beautiful, she may look unhealthy and in science instead of looking at the skeleton you look at her because you can see every bone in her body because the words people say affected her, she was healthy, but people think you need to be **** perfect to be friends or just for them to like you, so she carries this thing that eats her on the inside in pain with the words that are whispering in the halls, but then she has that one friend that doesn’t help she’s to busy wishing for selfish things and too blind to see her friend is dying in front of her, but instead of saving her she’s wishing for everything like that new car and losing weight and her hair to be longer and what outfit she’s going to wear tomorrow to impress that guy she has a crush on and the girl thats been neglected by everyone and everything next to her in the mirror hearing her rant on and on about this she’s wishing I want to be like her, I want someone to love me like that, I want friends she always says I want and I bet it’s the girl in the back of the classroom, that shy one that sits alone at lunch time looking around hoping someone will come sit with her and want to be friends but it doesn’t happen because everyones too selfish in there own worries and problem to notice their fellow classmates could be crying out for help in front of you but you don’t care because your stuff is to important to help someone else.
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Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 11:24 AM UTC
homework, wishing, anorexia, neglect
A paper with ink that every student hates to do It’s so annoying when you cant get it because the teacher didn’t explain to you how to do it so you don’t get it, but the smart girl in your class said every one gets it, so the teacher shuts up, but on the inside you want to turn around and scream “No ones as smart as you!” but you don’t because you don’t want to be a bother, but as you sit in your bed you think what the frig I should have asked, but in stead of doing my homework I go on something called Facebook where everyone writes about other people and there problems there having that no one in the world seriously cares about so you scroll till you see a fight that is pretty pointless, but you still get the popcorn and read everything they said because its better then doing any thing else, but you see that girl that deals with anorexia and start to think why does she do that to herself she’s skinny, I know the mirror can be cruel sometimes, but she’s beautiful, she may look unhealthy and in science instead of looking at the skeleton you look at her because you can see every bone in her body because the words people say affected her, she was healthy, but people think you need to be **** perfect to be friends or just for them to like you, so she carries this thing that eats her on the inside in pain with the words that are whispering in the halls, but then she has that one friend that doesn’t help she’s to busy wishing for selfish things and too blind to see her friend is dying in front of her, but instead of saving her she’s wishing for everything like that new car and losing weight and her hair to be longer and what outfit she’s going to wear tomorrow to impress that guy she has a crush on and the girl thats been neglected by everyone and everything next to her in the mirror hearing her rant on and on about this she’s wishing I want to be like her, I want someone to love me like that, I want friends she always says I want and I bet it’s the girl in the back of the classroom, that shy one that sits alone at lunch time looking around hoping someone will come sit with her and want to be friends but it doesn’t happen because everyones too selfish in there own worries and problem to notice their fellow classmates could be crying out for help in front of you but you don’t care because your stuff is to important to help someone else.
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41
I spend my days trying not to cave or give in to this sense of despair but inside I'm drowning in panic as I fight to the surface for air At night while in bed it continues there is no escape it would seem inevitably once I fall asleep I awaken again with a scream I don't know where it comes from or how it gets into my head but I don't get the chance to dream any more as nightmares appear in their stead My body is beaten and tired exhausted again here I lay watching the clock as the numbers count down to another miserable day
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Apr 7, 2010
Apr 7, 2010 at 6:14 PM UTC
Tormented
I am a knight, Yet, I carry no sword, nor ride a sturdy stead. My domed armour, an architectural wonder, Its smooth curvature, my only defence. Fragile, I withstand great force. Unyielding, I surrender under pressure When struck, I succumb to my inevitable fate. Helpless as the enemy raids my stronghold. Fractured, blood oozes from my gouging wound. Shattered, surrounded by the fragments of my doomed existence. Discarded, I am left, forgotten.
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Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 12:42 AM UTC
I am a Knight (Riddle Poem)
you hold me with a grasp that aches to let go that hates that I let it know that i’m leaving Your arms begin grieving Refusing to let go of this fleeting Moment The energy you surround me with so potent So intense The kind that gives one notions The kind that causes me to question every motion I make Every romantic idea I create a facade So intense With little motion And the sense Of calm You yawn I gaze at your slumber and my fawn hands caress your umber burnt skin and i begin to listen, to your heartbeat at its proper pace as my aching heart mimics it, they begin to race my eyes dance around your face As you pull me deeper into your embrace You hold me as your snores begin to scold me you unfold me i become open to you as i review ever subtle movement my body soothes when you hold me, how I refuse to hold myself. i whisper very boldly to myself, i love you but only discreetly while you’re sleeping because only while we’re dreaming does this all feel so possible does this type of love and sensuality and affection feel probable so i lay and i wait for you to awake i wait in this space for you to gently place your lips on my forehead for your warm embrace. for clothes to replace your warm embrace in its stead for our little visit to come to an end. you release me with that grasp that aches to let go that hates that, I let it know that i have to leave it Your arms begin grieving me the romanticism begins fleeting me i reach over to kiss you one more time and in turn you reply “i love you” my heart did not know what to say or what to do it could not take any less of you only anymore
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Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 6:49 PM UTC
to hold me
you hold me with a grasp that aches to let go that hates that I let it know that i’m leaving Your arms begin grieving Refusing to let go of this fleeting Moment The energy you surround me with so potent So intense The kind that gives one notions The kind that causes me to question every motion I make Every romantic idea I create a facade So intense With little motion And the sense Of calm You yawn I gaze at your slumber and my fawn hands caress your umber burnt skin and i begin to listen, to your heartbeat at its proper pace as my aching heart mimics it, they begin to race my eyes dance around your face As you pull me deeper into your embrace You hold me as your snores begin to scold me you unfold me i become open to you as i review ever subtle movement my body soothes when you hold me, how I refuse to hold myself. i whisper very boldly to myself, i love you but only discreetly while you’re sleeping because only while we’re dreaming does this all feel so possible does this type of love and sensuality and affection feel probable so i lay and i wait for you to awake i wait in this space for you to gently place your lips on my forehead for your warm embrace. for clothes to replace your warm embrace in its stead for our little visit to come to an end. you release me with that grasp that aches to let go that hates that, I let it know that i have to leave it Your arms begin grieving me the romanticism begins fleeting me i reach over to kiss you one more time and in turn you reply “i love you” my heart did not know what to say or what to do it could not take any less of you only anymore
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66
When I died last, and, Dear, I die As often as from thee I go, Though it be but an hour ago, And Lovers’ hours be full eternity, I can remember yet, that I Something did say, and something did bestow; Though I be dead, which sent me, I should be Mine own executor and legacy. I heard me say, “Tell her anon, That myself, that is you, not I, Did **** me,” and when I felt me die, I bid me send my heart, when I was gone, But alas could there find none, When I had ripp’d me, and search’d where hearts should lie; It kill’d me again, that I who still was true, In life, in my last will should cozen you. Yet I found something like a heart, But colors it, and corners had, It was not good, it was not bad, It was intire to none, and few had part. As good as could be made by art It seem’d, and therefore for our losses sad, I meant to send this heart in stead of mine, But oh, no man could hold it, for ’twas thine.
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3.9k
The Legacy
Black waters, cruel heart, The Kelpie sits upon his throne For eternity, doomed to play his part And wait in vain for his one true own. His servants are the poisonous eel, Sea serpent, corpse, and dead man's ghost Of his victims - though no pain they feel, In death must earn his wrath the most. In daylight was this lord's last goodness Spurned and cast to mocking sea; From damsel's touch this heart of darkness Sprang, shall remain eternally So: Once a time of cool recklessness Brought the Kelpie ashore as the sun descended, In pursuit of the voice as sweet as goodness That sang ere the song of day had ended. The Kelpie left the waters For love of land-born daughter And laid upon her lips a kiss, And wove her his enchantment: -- "Tell me, maiden, do you weep For Love's encounter sorely missed? Do you not know the deep seas seek Such tears as yours - they shall be kissed "Beyond remembrance of those sad eyes, Without recall of downcast smile (The sea must love you in disguise Only to scare sweet sorrows awhile.) "Then let my voice your heart caress. Come, take these hands to lead you hence Into the surf, leave all duress That land can offer; Love's light is sent "To guide you, though the soulless waters Close above your grief-bowed head. Know, I will always follow after -- I, dark prince in daylight's stead." He drew her to the sea's dark shore - His eyes focused of one foul will: To take her breath on ocean's floor And so to bid her song be still. *But the girl wouldn't go. Behold! the mourning dawns screams the shadows away from the living orb!* *Dark man -- melts the mask Away: Black horse, drown Your sorrows forever at the Bottomless depths of loathing.* She would not listen to his charms When sunlight's worth came hers at last; Now night, now day, his empty arms Clutch mildewed dregs of the past. Cruel waters guard the frozen heart Of the Kelpie who sits upon his throne, A slave to Love -- his one true part, Bestowed by a gentle earthly voice she left him alone.
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Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 5:39 AM UTC
The Kelpie
Black waters, cruel heart, The Kelpie sits upon his throne For eternity, doomed to play his part And wait in vain for his one true own. His servants are the poisonous eel, Sea serpent, corpse, and dead man's ghost Of his victims - though no pain they feel, In death must earn his wrath the most. In daylight was this lord's last goodness Spurned and cast to mocking sea; From damsel's touch this heart of darkness Sprang, shall remain eternally So: Once a time of cool recklessness Brought the Kelpie ashore as the sun descended, In pursuit of the voice as sweet as goodness That sang ere the song of day had ended. The Kelpie left the waters For love of land-born daughter And laid upon her lips a kiss, And wove her his enchantment: -- "Tell me, maiden, do you weep For Love's encounter sorely missed? Do you not know the deep seas seek Such tears as yours - they shall be kissed "Beyond remembrance of those sad eyes, Without recall of downcast smile (The sea must love you in disguise Only to scare sweet sorrows awhile.) "Then let my voice your heart caress. Come, take these hands to lead you hence Into the surf, leave all duress That land can offer; Love's light is sent "To guide you, though the soulless waters Close above your grief-bowed head. Know, I will always follow after -- I, dark prince in daylight's stead." He drew her to the sea's dark shore - His eyes focused of one foul will: To take her breath on ocean's floor And so to bid her song be still. *But the girl wouldn't go. Behold! the mourning dawns screams the shadows away from the living orb!* *Dark man -- melts the mask Away: Black horse, drown Your sorrows forever at the Bottomless depths of loathing.* She would not listen to his charms When sunlight's worth came hers at last; Now night, now day, his empty arms Clutch mildewed dregs of the past. Cruel waters guard the frozen heart Of the Kelpie who sits upon his throne, A slave to Love -- his one true part, Bestowed by a gentle earthly voice she left him alone.
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57
Mother, mother, what ill-bred aunt Or what disfigured and unsightly Cousin did you so unwisely keep Unasked to my christening, that she Sent these ladies in her stead With heads like darning-eggs to nod And nod and nod at foot and head And at the left side of my crib? Mother, who made to order stories Of Mixie Blackshort the heroic bear, Mother, whose witches always, always Got baked into gingerbread, I wonder Whether you saw them, whether you said Words to rid me of those three ladies Nodding by night around my bed, Mouthless, eyeless, with stitched bald head. In the hurricane, when father's twelve Study windows bellied in Like bubbles about to break, you fed My brother and me cookies and Ovaltine And helped the two of us to choir: 'Thor is angry; boom boom boom! Thor is angry: we don't care!' But those ladies broke the panes. When on tiptoe the schoolgirls danced, Blinking flashlights like fireflies And singing the glowworm song, I could Not lift a foot in the twinkle-dress But, heavy-footed, stood aside In the shadow cast by my dismal-headed Godmothers, and you cried and cried: And the shadow stretched, the lights went out. Mother, you sent me to piano lessons And praised my arabesques and trills Although each teacher found my touch Oddly wooden in spite of scales And the hours of practicing, my ear Tone-deaf and yes, unteachable. I learned, I learned, I learned elsewhere, From muses unhired by you, dear mother. I woke one day to see you, mother, Floating above me in bluest air On a green balloon bright with a million Flowers and bluebirds that never were Never, never, found anywhere. But the little planet bobbed away Like a soap-bubble as you called: Come here! And I faced my traveling companions. Day now, night now, at head, side, feet, They stand their vigil in gowns of stone, Faces blank as the day I was born. Their shadows long in the setting sun That never brightens or goes down. And this is the kingdom you bore me to, Mother, mother. But no frown of mine Will betray the company I keep.
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The Disquieting Muses
Mother, mother, what ill-bred aunt Or what disfigured and unsightly Cousin did you so unwisely keep Unasked to my christening, that she Sent these ladies in her stead With heads like darning-eggs to nod And nod and nod at foot and head And at the left side of my crib? Mother, who made to order stories Of Mixie Blackshort the heroic bear, Mother, whose witches always, always Got baked into gingerbread, I wonder Whether you saw them, whether you said Words to rid me of those three ladies Nodding by night around my bed, Mouthless, eyeless, with stitched bald head. In the hurricane, when father's twelve Study windows bellied in Like bubbles about to break, you fed My brother and me cookies and Ovaltine And helped the two of us to choir: 'Thor is angry; boom boom boom! Thor is angry: we don't care!' But those ladies broke the panes. When on tiptoe the schoolgirls danced, Blinking flashlights like fireflies And singing the glowworm song, I could Not lift a foot in the twinkle-dress But, heavy-footed, stood aside In the shadow cast by my dismal-headed Godmothers, and you cried and cried: And the shadow stretched, the lights went out. Mother, you sent me to piano lessons And praised my arabesques and trills Although each teacher found my touch Oddly wooden in spite of scales And the hours of practicing, my ear Tone-deaf and yes, unteachable. I learned, I learned, I learned elsewhere, From muses unhired by you, dear mother. I woke one day to see you, mother, Floating above me in bluest air On a green balloon bright with a million Flowers and bluebirds that never were Never, never, found anywhere. But the little planet bobbed away Like a soap-bubble as you called: Come here! And I faced my traveling companions. Day now, night now, at head, side, feet, They stand their vigil in gowns of stone, Faces blank as the day I was born. Their shadows long in the setting sun That never brightens or goes down. And this is the kingdom you bore me to, Mother, mother. But no frown of mine Will betray the company I keep.
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What a life! So short, yet looking very long Offering so much but leaving souls yearning for some more. Questions like; what it is, where it is and how to get through, Keeps the mind wondering and the soul with a vacuum If you know the creator of heaven and earth And believe He sent His only Son in your stead Who suffered shame and hung on the cross till death Then you are an heir and you breathe the father’s breath If you know that the father knows you not And you feel like you’re ripe for that place that’s hot If you’re stained and can’t be cleaned with water from tap. Then, like a lost traveler, you are lost and in need of a map If you believe you’re lost and desire direction Reach for the Son whose spirit gives the instruction. Engraved in His stripes is the way that leads to life You only need to believe and He'll take your strive The father has a home above, kept as our treasure And desire to redeem man from his fall to this place of pleasure He sent the son to make a way and stand in the gap Bridging the way to our treasure; so we could follow Him the map
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Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 5:11 AM UTC
Eyeing on the Treasure
I write you poems in my head, Hundreds thousands of them taking up space like the dead. Some are sloppy with narry a rhyme, Some are perfectly prosed and pieced in time. Someday you will hear them, Falling like prayers from my lips. And when the day comes I hope you don't mind. I hope you don't mind. I write you poems in my head Someday the stars will read them to you in my stead And when the days comes that you hear of my secret oaths to you my dear Please bear in my mind I needed no echo ... I only wanted you to know.
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Jan 18, 2022
Jan 18, 2022 at 6:13 AM UTC
Poems in my Head
Nero: Deep cover another 187 on these hoes with my flows ya know I riddle like little Italy Punisher life Frank castle I slice ******* up like cattle I'm a lover but undercover like Eddie Griffin my brother I'll slice up ******* and leave they men in the trunk nervous with trauma twitches I'll cement up your shoes I'll use my pen to get the message to you headless hunters I'll be the soul edge and slice the heavens asunder I can feel it in my head and soul I'll reap with the flow and grow the flowers on the tombstone I'll make ya ***** moan and groan while I **** her in your stead while she gives me head I'm deciding who's the next to be blessed from the deliverer of death DaSH: Kept the switchblade in a balled up fist Probly ****** Off a lot of ******* But got longer lists Like ******* who tasted blood soon after my ******* gotten licked Threw up on my **** And promptly dipped to get the shotgun grip ***** spit Got me not wantin to work these long *** shifts I know im sick Smell my aroma tell its ebola when I walk up in the room Shut up talking and get a stronger whiff Im the kid who was too demented to have gotten picked For any extra curricular Anyway I was busy plottin how to get to ya Radio waves confuse em make em **** themselves Silly me Billy Madison was happenin And i was in the back with Chris Farley doin smack again Rappers get smacked with used **** pads A ****** ***** Is all I'll ever be in their eyes But in mine, All I see is bodies burning alive
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Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 12:51 AM UTC
187 (Deep Cover/Centurion freestyle) ft. Nero Alucard
Nero: Deep cover another 187 on these hoes with my flows ya know I riddle like little Italy Punisher life Frank castle I slice ******* up like cattle I'm a lover but undercover like Eddie Griffin my brother I'll slice up ******* and leave they men in the trunk nervous with trauma twitches I'll cement up your shoes I'll use my pen to get the message to you headless hunters I'll be the soul edge and slice the heavens asunder I can feel it in my head and soul I'll reap with the flow and grow the flowers on the tombstone I'll make ya ***** moan and groan while I **** her in your stead while she gives me head I'm deciding who's the next to be blessed from the deliverer of death DaSH: Kept the switchblade in a balled up fist Probly ****** Off a lot of ******* But got longer lists Like ******* who tasted blood soon after my ******* gotten licked Threw up on my **** And promptly dipped to get the shotgun grip ***** spit Got me not wantin to work these long *** shifts I know im sick Smell my aroma tell its ebola when I walk up in the room Shut up talking and get a stronger whiff Im the kid who was too demented to have gotten picked For any extra curricular Anyway I was busy plottin how to get to ya Radio waves confuse em make em **** themselves Silly me Billy Madison was happenin And i was in the back with Chris Farley doin smack again Rappers get smacked with used **** pads A ****** ***** Is all I'll ever be in their eyes But in mine, All I see is bodies burning alive
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