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"subdues" poems
For so long I wanted to be water An element that soothes and saves For I was born of fire Wild, destructive and difficult to tame I tried to dull my flames In order to gain some control Though the spark deep inside me Wanted freedom to console The hatred I held inside I couldn't accept my role I wanted to be everything I wasn't The ocean, the rain, the winter's cold How can I run free When all I'll ever do is destroy The fire that burns in me Is a passion I can no longer avoid I finally embrace my element As it is in my nature I want to be free to be myself I've never felt more sure For so long I longed to be water An element that subdues and relieves But I was born of fire With a warmth that burns so passionately I am a candle that provides you light I am the fire that warms you whole I brighten your darkest night I thaw the coldest hearts and souls
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Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 2:44 AM UTC
Aries
When darkness long has veil'd my mind, And smiling day once more appears, Then, my Redeemer, then I find The folly of my doubts and fears. Straight I upbraid my wandering heart, And blush that I should ever be Thus prone to act so base a part, Or harbour one hard thought of Thee! Oh! let me then at length be taught What I am still so slow to learn, That God is love, and changes not, Nor knows the shadow of a turn. Sweet truth, and easy to repeat! But when my faith is sharply tried, I find myself a learner yet, Unskilful, weak, and apt to slide. But, O my Lord, one look from Thee Subdues the disobedient will, Drives doubt and discontent away, And Thy rebellious worm is still. Thou art as ready to forgive As I am ready to repine; Thou, therefore, all the praise receive; Be shame and self-abhorrence mine.
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4.4k
Peace after a Storm
'Tis easier to look at a mirror Than to dare introspect, As the reflection subdues The deceit buried in a tangled web of lies. As the light dances on ripples in the water, The shimmer it casts To a void that is our souls. There's darkness all around, In our hearts and in our minds. And in times like these When our thirst is quenched with only more fire, Our thoughts become inked in red, Reminded of the weakness of our fortitudes, And the shallowness of our words, Let alone be our deeds. The story of how a good man goes to war, Lost to the morals of an unsound mind, Resounds like a thunder in the midst of nowhere. And as he raised his hand And plunged a knife Into the very heart of another his kind, There he lost himself to the deafening screams of mankind. And we find ourselves without voices Drowning in a sea full of tears. There is ONLY us, THIS is all us... OUR tragedies OUR failures OUR deeds. We let ourselves fall, Even before the walls came tumbling down.
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Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 6:30 AM UTC
When Good Men Go To War
I'm ripping myself apart again, as the wind continues to call my name. Its presence subdues me Maybe I can be myself again? But then I realize, There is no self Only hollow grounds And I play catch in the hole. I'd rather something pull me up But there is no such grasp. My love bids farewell, As I shed inner tears. I know it to be temporary. Nothing lasts forever And nothing really matters. As if the pain could overcome my numbness, I most likely wanted this. My love, my ache, my other regret. If I was dead before, I am still so now. At least this painful void is gone, And you helped me set it free. I thank you again for the remembrance And I hope this all makes sense. But my place remains the same Where do I go from here?
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Oct 24, 2018
Oct 24, 2018 at 1:44 AM UTC
Gray love
a polar vortex swirls eastward on Siberian Tiger paws bounding over Appalachian Highlands gobbling geography gelling Great Lakes spawning Erie blizzards sculpting Wabash ice floes clogging commerce all along the Ohio River Valley this voracious juggernaut’s wide maw bears icicle teeth laughing as it swallows Pittsburgh, Little Philly, and a Big Apple, before gorging itself on generous portions ladled into simmering crocks of steaming Boston Baked Beans growling blue arctic air blasts roar bursts pipes savages the heat of blasting furnaces, bubbling boilers, hot belly stoves frantically drinking oil, flaming gas burning wood and burping soot the blistering jet stream claws screech a slashing stratospheric hum as Frigidaire blasts swallows breath brittles limbs chafes cheeks gnaws earlobes crystallizes tears nibbles nostrils cubes snot numbs toes bites digits diving sub zero gradient subdues batteries to deaden states delays buses derails trains cuts power constricts veins preys on vagabonds and animals get the homeless off the street! bring the animals in check on your elderly neighbors don’t get caught outside and shut the **** door! do you own stock in the Public Service? beware the polar vortex and next months heating bill Sonny Boy Williamson & Otis Spann Nine Below Zero Oakland 1/6/14 jbm
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Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 2:43 PM UTC
Polar Vortex
This empty ***** bottle, has been cuddled and swaddled and squandered. In my ***** it seeps to every dame between, a dad and not knowing her own preponderance. I **** I **** by the ****** of my hilt, of the sword of unrighteous, self help, and filling their wombs with guilt. I've never helped anyone all of my life. Though they would tell you different mistruths, of their positional view, so skewed by proof, undo, that I sent them through. It's a fun house of lies and mirrors shaping figures, of veneers, so botched that plastic surgeon quacks wouldn't own up to the scars. I ferment peoples living. I turn drunk ****** into angels. I mask charlatan as queens, and poison my own gut with the fakes in my head. Crops die. Crust subdues verdance. Chronos rhymes the days and night. Course subjugation to penance. But now I seethe my own head into my throat, and end in ink wrote as prose. Killing beauty. Art. **** Art. Today is. Death. Tomorrow's not life, nor living, breathing nor breath, oxygen's just a molecule, it causes no spark, except in molecules charged, with dividing and subdividing, and rejoining and conjoining into something that can use it. happy flights :)
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Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 11:01 PM UTC
Cunk Fike Dank
Melancholy in my coffee Subdues my day Dresses me in drab Lifeless clothing The smile I wore yesterday Left hanging in the closet Slightly wrinkled Sends me out the door Under the grey sky My vision clouded My mind numbed Even your warm skin I kiss goodbye Can't make the sun shine today Tomorrow, I think, I'll take My coffee black
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Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 10:23 AM UTC
Melancholy in my coffee
as the night quells, soft and gentle, the incessant humming in my head subdues to  a murmured hush, and the white noise is but  a grey fog veiling hazy promises and barbed fears. the darkness seems to hold its breath as you say: look  at the meteors, they fall so heavily tonight! it is because we all placed our wishes on them. yet i only see your tired orbit set in the horizon of your stony shoulders; like shooting stars burdened by wishful thinking, you bow under a burden of universes:           phantom hopes and frayed strands,           as if you were afire from within, the moon alight in lining of your skin. tonight the waning moon’s gentle glow flickers as if in stop-motion, like confused blinking. in a lingering afterthought I find — in solitude time is all-consuming, and i am in an hourglass; time, a thief, creating a vortex beneath my feet and in solitude i find myself wishing desperately again. the darkness is so softly suffocating as you say: look at the meteors, they fall so heavily tonight!
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Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 1:37 AM UTC
and the meteors fall so heavily
"Ïn love with the moons" in to her ear, his inebriated soft murmur pours, "Don't tell me that" she playfully taunts, *"So wicked you are, moon, one or the other feels the pinch a bit too much"* Her disagreement,was meant to be just the opposite, the logic of which is clear, only to lovers, in intimate moments. Every touch is so orchestrated to create a provocative effect, as if there is a secret pact between the moon and the gentle flow caressing the mossy river bed, the tide that  comes in with full force, and flows out spreading peace. They both stand under the spell, full, milky moon and wildly dance, till the effect of moon induced amour completely, conclusively subdues.
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Sep 24, 2015
Sep 24, 2015 at 8:23 AM UTC
Moon Amor
Time has put a vagrancy on my mind Subdues conformity and material worship With scalding epileptic convulsions of imagination My mouth blood-stained, shrieking like a pianting A painting by Munch gives way, yields, yes yields To an unrelenting detonation of the unconscious An existential filter of real or imagined transformations Which by miraculous tongue restores a belief To wonder and levies no compass on perception Yet reveals a tormenting estrangement That does mount a strenuous and contemptuous protest Against familiarity with agonized shrieks of obdurate tenacity Where the phantoms of my imagination enact their mysterious mysteries And produce a poetic alchemy of violated imagination
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Sep 23, 2012
Sep 23, 2012 at 3:31 PM UTC
Think, ha, ha, yes think
On The Sixth Moon's Night I came to contemplate the cosmos. I awoke on a mountainous range: Projected were ten thousand isles, scattered in remain. All dancing differently, But constructing one eternal game. To what extent might my eye expand? To what end will death cast its sand? Upon what shore may the waves crash again In peace and calm harmony? No matter how many curtains the Devas will draw Or how many distinctions Māyā will make~ Always, the un-curved perfection subdues and surrenders to them all. Like the water-way, cultivating life and harvesting it on the other side. Formless, it surpasses all stiff form and creates a path of least resistance To the goal of the heart. --- You cannot carve a stone buddha out of human flesh. A stone buddha cannot experience samadhi nor still a pond. Mind is a mirror that must be seen clearer! But behind the glass and that transient social class, What is that divine perception? "The Ultimate Peerer"
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Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 1:02 PM UTC
A Bird's Distant Call
From all I say, You can tell where I'm at Whether or not am sincere Whether it's all pretence You could easily find the lies and the truths from all I say to you! I'm an open book before the one I love And that much control you have over me You know me enough You know where my mind is at. I accept it all. I don't fight at all It's all okay. I'll be fine. I allowed it in the first place I have to deal with it. I just hope it all fades and... and we get back to normal or the awkward new normal I don't know what it will be But I hope it's the good kind One that blossom One that subdues the gray area we in So we both live in peace
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Apr 29, 2023
Apr 29, 2023 at 3:17 AM UTC
Tales....
Breaths drawn against saline skin, hands murmur apologies as all absence is forgiven. Seconds stretch without end battle cries, faint now but rousing disturb the whispered dusk. A call to arms, precious in its cadence sings of life to forgotten senses and finally subdues the longing felt only in dreams of home.
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Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 6:37 PM UTC
Homecoming.
When you open your heart to someone new You give them your all Then it subdues When you hope it will change And the night will be bright When you fear they’ll run away And they stay by your side When you know that they love you But you can’t love them back That is all I know of life And I would want to retract
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Feb 24, 2023
Feb 24, 2023 at 2:09 PM UTC
I can't love you
Kintaro, wonder-child with just a bib of red and gold often red-naked; Kintaro, child of nature of the Ashigara mountain friend of rabbit, monkey, squirrel, tanuki and fox Oh Kintaro! save us from this wild carp so gigantic no human can tame or catch - Oh Kintaro! Super child, child of thunder sent by red dragon of Mt Ashigara - Oh subdue the Gigantic carp, Oh Kintaro – save us! and see now Kintaro comes leaps into the waters and Kintaro fights the carp Kintaro subdues the monster and the waters leap out and flow like rivers and they fill lakes and ponds and Kintaro has subdued the carp and we are all safe now again! Thanks to Kintaro! and so may all boys be strong may all boys be brave like little boy Kintaro like mighty, mighty Kintaro
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Jul 27, 2011
Jul 27, 2011 at 3:54 AM UTC
Kintaro, wonder boy
The smell of freshly cooked roti wafted through the air and enters my nostrils As I walked by the construction site laden with debris, metal, tools and drills For the first time in a long time my mind subdues its chatter My eyes come to a rest on a *** of soon-to-be cooked batter The destitute woman sat by a tiny fire with a handful of pots and pans Cooking for those whose hands would bring to life the Architect's plans The look in her eyes wasn't that of servility or resignation She struck me as one who practised mindful meditation Two little ones played with a stick within their mother’s line of sight It was hard to believe that a piece of wood could bring them such delight Their ages four and seven from the look in their exuberant eyes Hardly did they know that they were born to be chastised A stone’s throw away, under the only light bulb, sat a girl in her attire from school A few books on her lap, a pencil in hand, she sat studying on a wooden stool She was a dreamer this one, dreamt of making her mother proud She gave in to nothing but knowledge, for whom humbly she bowed In the darkest corner lay the father on a wooden cot; bottle in hand His back to the light, drunken mind wandering through promise land He had been broken this one; no man’s free without being the master of his own will Freedom he had never known, for since birth another’s land has he always tilled
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Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 2:32 AM UTC
Life at the Construction Site
Strolling in these crowded streets Wandering through memories The tune of love within Subdues all those without Angst filled void around Unmindful pain – baffling and novel See that familiar face around – no surprise People are but objects reflecting the mind Unbeknownst – love struck me And now I am clearly unsure What joy, what pain – what more? They say its fatal – but its poetry obscure. The emotional dissonance – is that right? A void that is tediously strong How do I speak my mind – confess the love I fear end would win me over, before long. Gap – the gap – this gap between… Would cocoon worlds' entirety The gap between the lips, longer still If sealed, once sealed – chime unity I could sing ballads of love But I am a lifetime shy to be a poet I speak my plight in vain hope Of being one – with you, just for a moment Virtues will be restored And boons have been bestowed If the night unfolds with you beside me, - My man of gold
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May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 8:33 AM UTC
Man of Gold
A red that burns across the sky, Igniting the passion of a thousand suns An orange that streaks throughout the desert, Reminding travellers of their insatiable thirst A yellow that sparks amidst the darkness, Striking hope into the hearts of the forlorn A green that sprouts along every blade of grass, Spreading wisdom and peace across the kingdom, A blue that blends into the soul of stars, Fueling energy that bubbles throughout centuries A purple that bruises every skin and scythe, Rendering pain and thrills in every soldier A violet that subdues the exhilaration of life and existence, Leaving waves of aching sorrows and spirits
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Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 9:26 AM UTC
Colours
There is a quiet whisper in the corner of my mind it speaks to me on dark days when the sunlight I can't find It speaks of secret hatred wrapped up in friendship's ruse and though I try to fight it my will it soon subdues. I struggle in my silence hiding all behind my smile no emotion breaks the surface as I tell the world "I'm Fine" There is a quiet whisper growing quickly to a scream as I weave a noose of secrets bringing end to foolish dreams.
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Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 11:23 AM UTC
Fin.
Behind green eyes a retinal flash subdues a gentle sense of knowing with a half worn smile she calculates line and speed though unimpressed with detail she's alert to every possibility and snatches a glance there her widening gaze settled followed by a measured blink of pure satisfaction a buzz of a wasp and a flick of an ear all is well with her world.
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Jun 9, 2010
Jun 9, 2010 at 10:16 AM UTC
Watching Cats
When winter comes, the game is over Until then I’m tilling the soil, in preparation for the final score Cordiality Before the fertility of an ordeal, which grows into the bigger picture Displayed Splayed open in awkward moments, momentum picking up Dust Doesn’t this dirt, do something… creates… With no need Of creativity It just becomes… Nativity bourne… Energy from the stress, stretchin Gravity pulls Subdues the aborted missions… Missing the survivors One In a million, peal through the milieu, and skews This present View of manure, that manifests in the festivities that brings out The most Beautiful black rose in spring… Arose from the black Beneath Neither I nor you can undue, growth… Destruction just makes room For something Bigger to become… Cometh the comets to renew the stigma… Butterflies Kiss the bees… Better fly before the sting… Before the sting… Stung Death becomes the unlikely pair… The pear drops, to its own despair This pair Dies… as the flies, cover the corpse, cadavers and carrion Carry on The merry married marred, and in the spoils, spring new life Young maggots Detested by the world, enters ignorantly blissful, and springs… Underlings Lingering beneath the grips of hatred, when it grows, with its Hundred eyes It still wont see the picture… distorted kaleidoscopic optics stops it From seeing The whys, the wheres, the world, the web The spider That sits beside her… and ***** the life out her The outer Casings, the crust, the crevice, the crack, the core, We see Explore, excavate through the dust of adam, and reach the hot magma, The lake Of fire floods the land… and destroys another civilization “Welcome to earth…”
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Jan 12, 2011
Jan 12, 2011 at 3:18 AM UTC
gRose
When winter comes, the game is over Until then I’m tilling the soil, in preparation for the final score Cordiality Before the fertility of an ordeal, which grows into the bigger picture Displayed Splayed open in awkward moments, momentum picking up Dust Doesn’t this dirt, do something… creates… With no need Of creativity It just becomes… Nativity bourne… Energy from the stress, stretchin Gravity pulls Subdues the aborted missions… Missing the survivors One In a million, peal through the milieu, and skews This present View of manure, that manifests in the festivities that brings out The most Beautiful black rose in spring… Arose from the black Beneath Neither I nor you can undue, growth… Destruction just makes room For something Bigger to become… Cometh the comets to renew the stigma… Butterflies Kiss the bees… Better fly before the sting… Before the sting… Stung Death becomes the unlikely pair… The pear drops, to its own despair This pair Dies… as the flies, cover the corpse, cadavers and carrion Carry on The merry married marred, and in the spoils, spring new life Young maggots Detested by the world, enters ignorantly blissful, and springs… Underlings Lingering beneath the grips of hatred, when it grows, with its Hundred eyes It still wont see the picture… distorted kaleidoscopic optics stops it From seeing The whys, the wheres, the world, the web The spider That sits beside her… and ***** the life out her The outer Casings, the crust, the crevice, the crack, the core, We see Explore, excavate through the dust of adam, and reach the hot magma, The lake Of fire floods the land… and destroys another civilization “Welcome to earth…”
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I lust for you to think of me daydream of your scribbled greetings of your silent longing, your thoughts of me (thinking of you) thirsty for some confession of truth something drastic, something new in this stagnant springtime colours, bright and harsh yet they fall upon me oh so dull the wind avoids my skin walking in a vacuum so constantly numb so ardent for a crack in the continuity it subdues any passion even my hatred for routine letting me subconsciously slip into the nightmare of the "american dream" the steady pretending this enmeshment it infects the very seams of my existence
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Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 2:37 AM UTC
Break
Red against a thread of gold subdues transparency consciousness leans into the hollows Where is the burden you sigh to see In those efforts you cannot Follow A humble eminence hears quiet air that mingles Watches a sea that glides within Feels his soul surely tingle When all those waves Come crashing in If you please to leave the shores of a world gone by Imagine strains of abandon in your air   You can see the burden of a sigh When your consciousness Follows you there
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Dec 14, 2010
Dec 14, 2010 at 7:43 PM UTC
Burden of A Sigh