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"stupefying" poems
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
Look around, You will find all eyes down; some expressionless, some desperate, and few smiling! Both tiny and fatty thumbs yearning for a rest, after typing those texts. Some consulting the Doc for having a smartphone thumb and some for lacking vitamin D! Posts wanting more and more likes. Kilograms of followers on Instagram! Swapping stories on Whatsapp! Unopened notebooks when you have a Facebook! Television screens consigned to oblivion when you have a Youtube! Discovering the veiled world, missing the real scenes around. Emoticons spreading fake feelings, Stupefying infants swiping through the screens, Kids imploring to their parents- To drag out the patterns. What is more satisfying? Hitting play button on the screen or Hitting a six on the field? Carting products online or Shopping on a girls day out? Dribbling a basket ball or Dragging down the newsfeed? Watching daily soaps without a dish or Helping your mother out to wash the dish? Sharing the snaps of poverty and hunger or Reaching out to them with eager? A game of candy crush or Gifting a candy to your crush? I feel like whooping out to myself and to people around; To raise their heads and Look around!
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Jul 18, 2017
Jul 18, 2017 at 11:22 AM UTC
The New Gen
she’s blazing ease young summer, things are kinda difficult when i don’t know how to drive says he likes my body and i don’t know how to feel when i don’t see my body the same way he does odd serendipities the sun stupefying, thick grass tangles beneath our thighs and our ceiling is the sky adrift in a reverie but it feels so strange sunday uncanny playing around with odd satisfaction
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May 6, 2018
May 6, 2018 at 10:11 PM UTC
sunday
When the sun first shows its beaming face, at the break of a blissful new dawn. Your birds that exult with elegant grace, bid farewell to the night that's gone. Your flowers ornate your vast lands, of your priceless treasures they boast. The besotting Kilimanjaro that stands, dominating your east coast. You are home to the best precious stones, the land of gleaming clear waters. Garnished with skills and strong bones, you are served by your dutiful daughters. The soil that expands on your gracious vest, the equator that cuts your enormous chest, birds that bear your golden crest, are a few ideals of your daring zest. The treasured soil that fills your vast expanse, the gracious finesse in your every dance. From Egypt, to South Africa, Nigeria to Kenya, From the stupefying Sahara to the beatific Victoria. I love you dear Africa, The land of the wild, This poem is for you from your little child.
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Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 8:27 AM UTC
Africa
Grandiose and lofty it may seem Nevertheless it’s a thought that captures A dream I consider supreme It triggers a spontaneous feeling of rapture Whenever it crosses my mind. It’s that a lawless society is an empowered society The premise being that life is kind Lending credence to society imposed piety. As succinct as it is, It sums up my simple idiosyncrasy as me It’ll be a paradigm shift that’ll put my mind at ease And fill my heart with glee. The existing realities are grim                  Stupefying for lack of a better word. Andy Bryn.
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May 2, 2013
May 2, 2013 at 2:00 AM UTC
My Utopia
beautiful girl, you are not ugly. society is. indeed you are so brilliant, society can only cower, trying to find someone else for the blame. beautiful girl, you are not fat. society is. indeed it is so large and grotesque, spitting fumes of hate. beautiful girl, you are not a ***** society is. condemning everyone's move, it's hypocrisy could paint the walls. beautiful girl, you are not a **** society is. throwing itself at every broken promise, silver-polished lie. beautiful girl, you are not a freak society is. howling until all glance their way, foaming at the mouth with every inch of lunacy. beautiful girl, you are special. intelligent. astonishing. inspiring. phenomenal. mind-blowing. breathtaking. remarkable. stupefying. jaw-dropping. society knows all of this, but it wants to be the one on top. so keep your head up, beautiful girl. and smile. smile. smile.
0
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 1:43 PM UTC
it's not you, it's society
As the beautiful leaves upon high bristled trees must fall as fall turn winter we must, as time comes fall over and die but we shan't do it alone- yes... together for we must die and while many years shall go by until we must think of such things we need not mourn this fate this ominous end, this opening gate for just being allowed to die makes us lucky for the number of people unborn the acceptance of existence- torn shadows any number we could see more than the grains of sand in the sahara, and more than the fishes in the sea and of those unborn ghosts are greater poets, better hosts better scientists, never to put on lab coats when thinking of the billions   that could be here replacing the millions making our existences seem small and meek against these stupefying odds you and I, no scourge of the gods in all our ordinariness well we... we are the lucky ones.
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Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 11:40 PM UTC
Lucky ones
O LOVE! O LOVE! WHY ARE YOU EVER DEVOID OF LOGIC? Alexander K Opicho (Eldoret, Kenya; [email protected]) Mankind in its pathetic folly entice you in a dint of stupor Knowing not your true colour and texture Endeavoring to achieve glory in your mastery With the so limited human capacity In grey faith that you are a cradle of bliss But O love! Why are you ever crooked? Young men and women in strength of their sinews Toil day and night in ******* of humanity Praying and whining incantations with the hope for optimal love Ornamenting their bodies with diamond and bronze Fibre and silk ornamented to helm of providence In the foolish quest for love equillibria But in full stretch of your vice, you impish love You catapult all away to the shifted goal posts O love! O love! Why are you ever ruthless? You hate the learned but you favour the strong You hate professors but you favour the soldiers You hate the rich but you favour the agile You hate the lawyers but you favour the footballers You hate the pastors but you favour the ruffian You hate the whites but you favour the Negroes You hate the groomed but you love the ragamuffin You hate the chaste but you favour the mistress O love! O love! Why are you ever illogical? Love, I revere you for wickedness and irrationality In all of your history you scored sum *** laude In the duo as blend of your domain, Look; You never dwell in a genuine companionship You like where the couth will interject; Amidst fornication between married and single ones Amidst adultery in the triangle of foul compassion Amidst miscegenation between black and white Amidst infatuation between the whole and the lame Amidst conjugal appetite between the old and the young Amidst concupiscence between house master and houshelp Amidst immorality of married master over the wallowing servant Amidst libidos between literate teacher unto the peasant pupil Amidst disordered passion among the sly lesbians Amidst impious ********** among the suave gays O love! O love! You are the most wicked force! Love I am told; your colour is red You may be red or you may not be red But all in all, you deserve poetical veneration For your herculean ability to bend the most wise; In your force you made sagacious Shakespeare to bend In your force you made Princes Diana to bend and bend Bending downwardly stooping for Afawoyed the moor, In your stupefying dint you made Napoleon de Bonaparte To bend and bend downwardly stooping for Josephine Josephine a famed she-Casanova in the gone Paris Among the then humanity and the then animality, In your impairing machinery you set sons on their fathers In the roman empire of Antony and Ceaser In the scramble for Cleopatra, the Egyptian queen Beauty of her aquiline nose heavily hovered perhaps In the eyes of the Roman beholders The father and the son only to sent the empire To the love forlorn smithereens!
0
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 5:08 AM UTC
O love ! O love ! why are you ever devoid of logic ?
O LOVE! O LOVE! WHY ARE YOU EVER DEVOID OF LOGIC? Alexander K Opicho (Eldoret, Kenya; [email protected]) Mankind in its pathetic folly entice you in a dint of stupor Knowing not your true colour and texture Endeavoring to achieve glory in your mastery With the so limited human capacity In grey faith that you are a cradle of bliss But O love! Why are you ever crooked? Young men and women in strength of their sinews Toil day and night in ******* of humanity Praying and whining incantations with the hope for optimal love Ornamenting their bodies with diamond and bronze Fibre and silk ornamented to helm of providence In the foolish quest for love equillibria But in full stretch of your vice, you impish love You catapult all away to the shifted goal posts O love! O love! Why are you ever ruthless? You hate the learned but you favour the strong You hate professors but you favour the soldiers You hate the rich but you favour the agile You hate the lawyers but you favour the footballers You hate the pastors but you favour the ruffian You hate the whites but you favour the Negroes You hate the groomed but you love the ragamuffin You hate the chaste but you favour the mistress O love! O love! Why are you ever illogical? Love, I revere you for wickedness and irrationality In all of your history you scored sum *** laude In the duo as blend of your domain, Look; You never dwell in a genuine companionship You like where the couth will interject; Amidst fornication between married and single ones Amidst adultery in the triangle of foul compassion Amidst miscegenation between black and white Amidst infatuation between the whole and the lame Amidst conjugal appetite between the old and the young Amidst concupiscence between house master and houshelp Amidst immorality of married master over the wallowing servant Amidst libidos between literate teacher unto the peasant pupil Amidst disordered passion among the sly lesbians Amidst impious ********** among the suave gays O love! O love! You are the most wicked force! Love I am told; your colour is red You may be red or you may not be red But all in all, you deserve poetical veneration For your herculean ability to bend the most wise; In your force you made sagacious Shakespeare to bend In your force you made Princes Diana to bend and bend Bending downwardly stooping for Afawoyed the moor, In your stupefying dint you made Napoleon de Bonaparte To bend and bend downwardly stooping for Josephine Josephine a famed she-Casanova in the gone Paris Among the then humanity and the then animality, In your impairing machinery you set sons on their fathers In the roman empire of Antony and Ceaser In the scramble for Cleopatra, the Egyptian queen Beauty of her aquiline nose heavily hovered perhaps In the eyes of the Roman beholders The father and the son only to sent the empire To the love forlorn smithereens!
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61
Sorceress of hello poetry She posesses powers that pull me back To a dark world of desires and fantasy Late at night to her page I sneak Seeking power and a lover's  dreams Her words my talisman of luck With every line she drops A spell veils my senses Filling my mind with steamy clips Of us in a world of two Smoking my senses in her couldron of words She got me believing those magic words Giving in to her She is a witch She drafts her words skillfully She conjures the sweetest feelings And incarntations That I  chant and accept And love and comment Every day that I rise On her illusionary wings Feeding on her magic mushroom Sorceress of Hello Poetry With your stupefying allure I lose the sense of time And keep reading your rhyme Till morning finds me wasted And I am thrown back to reality Against my wishes Sorceress of Hello Poetry Teach me to cast love spells And I will guard you When witch hunters come
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Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 10:11 AM UTC
Sorceress of Hello Poetry
"'Lazy' may well be another term for 'efficient,' as so many love to romantically remark, but it nevertheless has a vague connotation of '..drowning in a distorted sense of responsibility, dimension, and progress, with symptoms including a stupefying lack of initiative,' but, yes: 'laziness' is a sort-of pursuit of 'efficiency-' with no intention or willingness to bear the responsibility of exertion. A system cannot be said to be efficient if it bereft of energy by which it might do work, however efficiently. Put your energy where your mouth is. It's cool to kick it once it's done, but, for now: ante up or fold."
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Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 5:13 PM UTC
Lazy
Diastolic memory fills mind with blood Heart purges other unforgettable serum Gushing in and out; valediction, invasion Scent left on bed sheets binomial theorem Calculus, physics computing mnemonics us Trust not sum of it, exponents baying flux Participles and components abject humbling Stumbling bio discourse create sedentary crux Stupefying brain surgeons, those of heart too Call in mathematicians, astronomers as well No making sense of it, linguistic doctorates few To tell of this push-pull sensory denoting hell Not much time to live after lungs dispensed Entrenched questions remain to be adoring Extravagantly historians exploring Unanswerable examining of this imploring Must breathe the linens till all dissipation Your essence in the ether of our resting Place turned into mad languid laboratory Conjuring back moments I am requesting
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Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 9:30 AM UTC
Memory Does Not Fail
Setting snow on fire The suffering, that is desire. Burning, never needing starter Only growing larger, Not even wavered By the laps of water
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Jun 18, 2023
Jun 18, 2023 at 9:08 PM UTC
Stupefying
Colors have meanings yet, I cannot understand this one This color gives of a hint of freshness, new beginnings in one's life A warmth spread so thin it reflects upon us during the day Everyone is surrounded by it Yet, this color is most peculiar Why does it exist to humans? Nothing is felt from it It is only described to the nature that provides it If anything it makes me feel disturbed it glares at you, like it's judging Most food that rots or molds, turns this color first Yet, this color is defined as vibrant, relaxing, and summer
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Mar 12, 2019
Mar 12, 2019 at 5:05 PM UTC
Stupefying View
And t'is is truthfully why I am here, my love: I belong to thee, sacredly, entirely, and soulfully to thee-yes, only to thee! My eyes brighten at every sight of thee, my mind delights at the thoughts of thee, my pulse fastens at the views of thee, my blood curdles at the scent of thee, my veins rustle at the gaze of thee-and hark! Hark now, dearest-how my heart leaps, sheepishly yet excitedly-when'ver I recall thee! Ah, and how t'is feeling trembles and fidgets as always, as thou stareth back-gladly and with a smile so handsome yet animated and playful- sweeping straightly back into my soul. Like t'ose stupefying, sentient glazes of summers- blowing silently with the rustic gallantry of t'eir ruddy oaks, my heart is elevated with defiant, but affectionate branches of terrific, terrific love for thee! Oh! And t'ese thou but needst to know- t'at both my virtuous-and vicious lusts-crave only thee, as well as how my pure joys rely on thee! As despairingly as how my soul was born for thee, my life was crafted for thee, my hands were paired with thee, and thus so graciously are my young feet- my toes, my ribs, my lungs, and the very limbs in which my spines might dwell, and be celebrated by thy gentle, manly breath. Oh, how thou, my Western prince-so delicate and blessed with all the might of my very being-thou hath, my love, since the very first been my gem, my bronze, my silver, my gold, my charm, my pearl, my diamond, my light, my fire, my treasure, and my lifelong dreams-as thou shalt always be! And so art thou the perfect accord to comply with all such of my mine; as thou art but the freshest bloom of my ****** years, as innocent as t'is nature's peaceful labyrinths- but youthful and starry like the fruit of my most curious- yet ardently succulent imagination. And how I am so devoted to thee, my love! Just like the stars are to the moon above.
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Mar 2, 2013
Mar 2, 2013 at 3:34 PM UTC
For Him
And t'is is truthfully why I am here, my love: I belong to thee, sacredly, entirely, and soulfully to thee-yes, only to thee! My eyes brighten at every sight of thee, my mind delights at the thoughts of thee, my pulse fastens at the views of thee, my blood curdles at the scent of thee, my veins rustle at the gaze of thee-and hark! Hark now, dearest-how my heart leaps, sheepishly yet excitedly-when'ver I recall thee! Ah, and how t'is feeling trembles and fidgets as always, as thou stareth back-gladly and with a smile so handsome yet animated and playful- sweeping straightly back into my soul. Like t'ose stupefying, sentient glazes of summers- blowing silently with the rustic gallantry of t'eir ruddy oaks, my heart is elevated with defiant, but affectionate branches of terrific, terrific love for thee! Oh! And t'ese thou but needst to know- t'at both my virtuous-and vicious lusts-crave only thee, as well as how my pure joys rely on thee! As despairingly as how my soul was born for thee, my life was crafted for thee, my hands were paired with thee, and thus so graciously are my young feet- my toes, my ribs, my lungs, and the very limbs in which my spines might dwell, and be celebrated by thy gentle, manly breath. Oh, how thou, my Western prince-so delicate and blessed with all the might of my very being-thou hath, my love, since the very first been my gem, my bronze, my silver, my gold, my charm, my pearl, my diamond, my light, my fire, my treasure, and my lifelong dreams-as thou shalt always be! And so art thou the perfect accord to comply with all such of my mine; as thou art but the freshest bloom of my ****** years, as innocent as t'is nature's peaceful labyrinths- but youthful and starry like the fruit of my most curious- yet ardently succulent imagination. And how I am so devoted to thee, my love! Just like the stars are to the moon above.
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46
**Good night,  God, part of everything, oh! forgive me for forgetting- your relevance as omniscient you are absolute and limitless, there can't be more than one such. **With my low functioning brain and slow data processing, I can't even imagine your perfection! Stupefying! It becomes more clear, with thinking, you could only operate in higher planes,            you have no business to know           the concept of day and night or for that matter, any single thing, you are beyond limits or lack of it, I am limited and bound by strings of time,my thoughts are 'time twisted'            Forgive me God, omnipresent
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Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 1:11 PM UTC
On "time twisted" perceptions
Stood lonesome beneath the old floodlight Sweetest embrace, the Gods shone down Forging great dramas in steel slabs and returning home with a picture of Hollywood I, sad-eyed fool, asked after you, and heard nothing Though, in Benzedrine dreams I was gifted your scent and awoke to the stench of ********** ***** and the powder dissolved Ah, I have heard your voice Yet you ignore mine The great whale twisted in the alley, with biceps bulging and tussling with hoodlums we were sent packing, Awaiting us were the sterile walls of some grande hospital Lined with officers, their pads and pens at the ready Beds spinning, squinting under neon, docile and confused Bars and bars, from one t' other, flicking roaches into the gutter as we went and howling at the harlots stood 'neath street lights, flickering Poisoned in body, poisoned in mind, the spirit on it's way Brick lanes and paddy wagons, urchins and knock-a-door run The unshaven dealers, passing poor product to the children and they, still in uniform, bleary eyed, satchels and sandwiches We, tied, cuffed, stranded and free Flags! The flags were a sight, satirical and stupefying Patriotism always made me chuckle, it being so absurd Yet her majesty still reigns supreme, have we no shame? Oh justifiable mockery, tainted our streets, the names we know How can one free one's country if one is but one person, and how could one simultaneous be one million? But even here in this mournful cell that layeth ten feet below, I am free, I may not know it yet, but I am...
0
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 6:37 PM UTC
What it Means to Exist
Stood lonesome beneath the old floodlight Sweetest embrace, the Gods shone down Forging great dramas in steel slabs and returning home with a picture of Hollywood I, sad-eyed fool, asked after you, and heard nothing Though, in Benzedrine dreams I was gifted your scent and awoke to the stench of ********** ***** and the powder dissolved Ah, I have heard your voice Yet you ignore mine The great whale twisted in the alley, with biceps bulging and tussling with hoodlums we were sent packing, Awaiting us were the sterile walls of some grande hospital Lined with officers, their pads and pens at the ready Beds spinning, squinting under neon, docile and confused Bars and bars, from one t' other, flicking roaches into the gutter as we went and howling at the harlots stood 'neath street lights, flickering Poisoned in body, poisoned in mind, the spirit on it's way Brick lanes and paddy wagons, urchins and knock-a-door run The unshaven dealers, passing poor product to the children and they, still in uniform, bleary eyed, satchels and sandwiches We, tied, cuffed, stranded and free Flags! The flags were a sight, satirical and stupefying Patriotism always made me chuckle, it being so absurd Yet her majesty still reigns supreme, have we no shame? Oh justifiable mockery, tainted our streets, the names we know How can one free one's country if one is but one person, and how could one simultaneous be one million? But even here in this mournful cell that layeth ten feet below, I am free, I may not know it yet, but I am...
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29
Whispers from deep voices that seemingly deteriorate; We chorused into the thunderous sound of that old cello. Not a harmony we could ever create, This is not what I intend, everything turned askew. That old pendulum is swaying to its usual way, A resemblance of our long gone grieves It was an affair crammed with dismay. But darling, you've got your demons now; Down to the age of your throwbacks, stupefying you every now and then And here I am, still that vigilant somehow. The double six tragedy was indeed an epic. Distance, silence, timing, all falling into an illusion, And yes, that was your treacherous scheme, making me even more frantic But life never stops there, in the end there would still be an affirmation.
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Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 10:12 PM UTC
The Last Sonnet
We are going To die and That makes us The lucky ones In the teeth Of these Stupefying Odds, it is You and I In our Ordinariness That are here The needle won't Reach the record And that's ok We reach for What to say As the silence Grows too strong Yet nothing ever Remains within Forever is Far too long
0
Apr 15, 2024
Apr 15, 2024 at 10:34 AM UTC
Felix Pauci
There must be a message in the occurrence that whenever in a closed-up space of time I can never sit down to any mind-occupying activity yet resort no matter what to observance, passing as unrequited passion of someone else’s (vocation), shape-o-thoughts and sensing, being the music the radio is listening to, and tender stupefying approaching to hurt questions and structures who hold onto philosophy and one stance. My depth darts me over to finally look straight into my own eyes instead of straying, diverting from the claim of my proper door. I cannot die and will not, will not leave my higher stake for the trash bins’, among which we live in, sake.
0
Aug 18, 2020
Aug 18, 2020 at 1:41 PM UTC
Have a Waiting Room in Car Rides
It was an uphill trek to the dilapidated fort Reminiscent of the past glory and supremacy A grandeur which cannot be replicated The solid stone walls smoothed to perfection Each stone sitting perfectly, filling the jigsaw puzzle Taking a walk around, I come across some etched paintings Wonder what story it narrates, or what secret it holds I try to peer closely and see what resembles a princess With all the swordsmen surrounding her Maybe from the prying eyes of some obsessive suitor Or is it that the princess was held captive by a rival? The fort is testimonial to so many incidents Which may have happened, clandestinely, inside its walls It must have been attacked so many times Also, it could have been taken over by force by the enemies I enter the fort through its imposing entrance The thick and heavy wooden doors, now ajar Riveted with iron bolts, now rusted over time The door must have been attacked and pounded with severe force Weakened by the ravages of time and the aging wood I enter the fort and is greeted by huge arches and a corridors Surrounding the length and breadth of the fort With so many chambers, that I lose count of them Wonder, where the princess must have been kept in captivity Or, may be kept safe from the obsessive lover, from the lower ranks I weave my own intriguing story, unaware of the history Once a secured monument of the glorious past Now forlorn, it stands there in stupefying silence With each passing day burying the cries, shrieks, laughter and conniving plots Someday, the whole existence of this fort may be diminished to dust For it is comeuppance of time, where, even the glorious and mighty are not spared © Amitav (Radiance)
0
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 3:35 AM UTC
A Fort's Saga
It was an uphill trek to the dilapidated fort Reminiscent of the past glory and supremacy A grandeur which cannot be replicated The solid stone walls smoothed to perfection Each stone sitting perfectly, filling the jigsaw puzzle Taking a walk around, I come across some etched paintings Wonder what story it narrates, or what secret it holds I try to peer closely and see what resembles a princess With all the swordsmen surrounding her Maybe from the prying eyes of some obsessive suitor Or is it that the princess was held captive by a rival? The fort is testimonial to so many incidents Which may have happened, clandestinely, inside its walls It must have been attacked so many times Also, it could have been taken over by force by the enemies I enter the fort through its imposing entrance The thick and heavy wooden doors, now ajar Riveted with iron bolts, now rusted over time The door must have been attacked and pounded with severe force Weakened by the ravages of time and the aging wood I enter the fort and is greeted by huge arches and a corridors Surrounding the length and breadth of the fort With so many chambers, that I lose count of them Wonder, where the princess must have been kept in captivity Or, may be kept safe from the obsessive lover, from the lower ranks I weave my own intriguing story, unaware of the history Once a secured monument of the glorious past Now forlorn, it stands there in stupefying silence With each passing day burying the cries, shrieks, laughter and conniving plots Someday, the whole existence of this fort may be diminished to dust For it is comeuppance of time, where, even the glorious and mighty are not spared © Amitav (Radiance)
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I am living my life in a self-constructed hell. It's funny because, the world disagrees with me. It comes lumbering in all it's tremendous glory, shoving life down my throat and yelling: "HERE! Here is beauty!" "HERE! Here is love!" "HERE! Here is the universe and you own it." Sounds like "Here! Here is ******** to me. It takes great sadistic pleasure in watching me suffer. I think God is a giant kid with a magnifying glass playing with his ants. The whole shape-able reality is a bogus ad created by a room of handsome ad execs in Satan's boardroom. He also sells stupefying cream you rub on your eyes to make you forget the bleary truth, the miserable facts. What did I expect from these liars? I know. Stupid me. I expected more than this.
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Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 10:09 AM UTC
More than this
She's dreaming about mars but she's going to become an accountant I remember when scales were beautiul I remember when that parking lot lasted forever We're supposed to find it stupefying They call it progress She hopes she's becoming a good person I spent all of my time in high school counting down to exams I wanted to be an art teacher but they taught me physics and laughed at me when I failed I spent all of my time being not good enough But here we are She wanted to become the girl she wrote about in all those stories you didn't read I remember every single bird I saw that morning I remember it like I'm still standing there, on the bridge in between the waterfall and the rest of the stream Maybe I'm still there, imagining the rest of my life I could have sat with you forever, but I didn't You left and I left and we aren't there anymore You said no and she listened She went to college for math and politics and I don't know why She would have made a beautiful captain someday And they would have shipped her off to Mars with the Space X mission But she just finished somebody else's taxes and went home in a taxi and she is taxed And they called it "progress."
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Apr 21, 2017
Apr 21, 2017 at 8:19 PM UTC
Progress
Your words sweet like honey calms me, your tongue drips with songs of comfort, I'm enthralled, your heart panting with love for me, it's stupefying, the words are good, and so are the songs, it's those actions that say you love me.
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Mar 13, 2019
Mar 13, 2019 at 6:07 AM UTC
Love
Being alone is strangely freeing. Now that you're gone, I have no one to answer to. No one texting me constantly to see what I'm doing And where I am and who I'm with. Being alone is a cage with no bars. I have all the time in the world and no one to share it with. I'll watch a beautiful sunset, and try to pass my cigarette To the outline of a woman that isn't there anymore. Though your shadow still casts next to mine on my roof. Being alone is enlightening. With no idle chit chat to fill the air My thoughts can now smoke out a room. Every situation is either dreadfully awful or benevolently warm. There is certainly a struggle for balance. Being alone is stupefying. I become so engrossed in myself I forget the world around me exists. My cell phone sits in my pocket, a fossil of wires and plastic. I find it now just to be an over sized paperweight. Most time now spent in isolated contemplation. There's always sunshine behind my tag-a-long rain cloud. There is strength to be gained from solitude. I now fully bare the weight of my unobstructed conscience. My once feeble legs carry on like the hooves of the ox. Once cold, I am now warm and inviting. I greet each day with open arms and humble spirit. Life is okay. Even if I have to experience it alone, Sometimes, it's not a bad thing. I feel the warmth.
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Oct 24, 2015
Oct 24, 2015 at 11:42 AM UTC
On Being Alone.
The seas of unrest Became calm for once For it had to witness The day of her birth There she stood In all of her beauty As the moonlight shined Upon her soft cheeks Her eyes lit up the night sky And the darkness in my soul Like a new sun, she was Beautiful and stupefying The wind sang beauteously And the trees danced In celebration of her Because she was perfect The wind whispered to me Her name and I was shocked For it was the language That angels spoke
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Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 11:07 AM UTC
The 29th of December