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"sublimed" poems
*I want to dance, the dance Of raindrops Cavernous steps I'd put along, in smoked hues of grey, in clouded cotton. Melting suns sublimed o'er dew dropped leaves. Romantic ballads on every poets page, passionate rain and fiery sun staged. I want to dance, the dance Of raindrops While you play harmony, on the harp. Once like the wind played, in my chestnut hair. The tiptoe of the rain, bringing childhood memories of fresh mud alive. I want to dance, the dance Of raindrops The solo they perform in cackles, of the child nextdoor. I remember the parched streets, the thirst song of the kuckoo, lips dry without you my love. Oh! How I wish, I could dance, the dance, the raindrops danced. To quench that thirst of rhythm, My beloved I want to dance.*
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Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 11:03 AM UTC
I want to Dance...
I stare at your eyes and gather; I close mine and wait: the soft, yet vapid on my lips, slightly open. Yours cupped on my overlip. The charged air, the sublimed space. I close mine on yours, and stay. The comfort of overwhelmed. We stay, please. I push. The warmth of your every breath on my philtrum: you are with me, now; I feel my bridge on yours point it and rest on the vast, skin beside. (carry me) I run my thumb on the smooth of your jaw, the tender and sweet in them lips your delicate beauty. Yes, dear: I drown myself tonight in your mouth. We glow in our little corner of the dark, and starless sky. Your brow loll on my forehead your eyes gently unshut looking beyond the locked lips, and the caressing chins, on us. Because. My love, more to tomorrow and growing surround, the ephemera of the night: our lips, inevitably, will part.
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Mar 3, 2010
Mar 3, 2010 at 7:14 AM UTC
Kiss
Dripping water from faucet of heaven pierced down the sky of my realm. Last dream. The sound went tip tip for two seconds and rimose creeped on my poise. A fakir without head told me on my abrupt attention "Find the sun,my son." Old ragged converse from the stinky corners slipped out and hesitantly told "You can't walk with me. You selfish rant" The path was smooth to bore the hell out of me From dawn to dusk I was among the rainfall of misty fumes Slowly I vapoured too.I was informed By voice unsung "The sun shines only behind the clouds" The dripping memories from faucet of heaven creaked inside me I sublimed in absence of myself and words came out "what for?" The yellow ball of hot moraine bulbed out. The sun- it said, "What for" The fakir without head spoke " the night is done"
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Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 9:34 PM UTC
The sun shines only behind the clouds What for!
In the soothing silence Of the zealous nighttime Losing all senses To the seizure of lips sublimed Raging as we were Wondering how it would be Spreading magic with ease With a  bare luscious kiss Drenched in the ocean Of endless desires The look in your eyes Puts me on fire How can I miss? It’s my ultimate wish Pleasant touch of bliss A midnight kiss Compelled in the serenity Of the touch together Let this midnight kiss Release our souls forever
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Jul 16, 2017
Jul 16, 2017 at 1:47 AM UTC
Midnight Kiss
What life does A butterfly see Pretty black Fleeting eyes Butterfly vision Unquenched love For flower's colored vista Though I expect They often think They are solely Living a short life Only eating and pooping Defined as Caterpillar forever Or, does their mind Metamorph also Now, it's little brain Like the angel's Holds thought to fly Released to drift free Astonished to rise Chasing flower's nectar Until too dark to see Or bloom unrevealed Anyway, as it is Seen by you and me A soaring glory Of handiwork divine Absolutely A life sublimed ©  2017 Jim Davis .
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Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 5:59 PM UTC
Butterfly Brain
Steel rimmed spectacles The fog is going to **** me Brakes fail Endless thoughts A cut So deep that my fear sublimed drenched in sorrow halcyon as ever A myriad of mistakes I have to compromise because of my repugnant taste I have to slaughter my cashmere and its owner.
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May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 1:00 PM UTC
Vague
Desperately nervous When grasping the coherence Of the wisdom eye I feel a small presence Revealing endeavors Of a cautioned mind After a long night Repetition and circulation Memories sublimed. I listened to your voice your change Intense and mysterious Sad and strange Evocation of the choice Sometimes these words possess The power to destroy
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Apr 5, 2010
Apr 5, 2010 at 8:50 AM UTC
All too real for the moment
A glass of sun, The circumference of the world, the entire infinity. The deep brown, Warm umber, Quiver and smirk. Between two chasms, Dark like the space-deep, Shattered like starlight Leaping off shards Of white glass All singing stars And glass shattered off-white. The width of a circle, A soul locked within A perfect deep- Within a glance pained By sublimed, sustained silence. The width of a circle, A soul sealed within A perfect deep- Therein a soul stained by Touch, By memory, By touch, By memory. The frames of a face. A soul sealed within a perfect sleep.
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Nov 21, 2017
Nov 21, 2017 at 5:19 PM UTC
Through the Eyes of a Memory, the Memory of two Eyes
I walk by the moon Writing a threnody Of the ubiquitous sublimed anger Of the unkempt souls My words are passing on From one line to another These phases are scattered Like dandelion seeds The zephyr diverting my attention A pleasantly small plethora of emotions Over flowing With the tide My mind ebbing to drown away Like a sycophant Unconsciously corrupted.
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May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 1:20 PM UTC
False
Love of our times in prism tense Transcending through space on disparate lands Canned in white of flickering sight   Split unto fractions in barren light Bluer than blue invisible hue Lesser tinge be warmed in view Meadow canvas of stars unveil Redder than red unspectral hue Lesser tinge be passion due Scorching dreams escape in lieu When rain meets sunshine colors flee Cascading shades send forth in glee Beckoning rainbow arc unfurls Emitting its glow on our pensive worlds Immersed in splendor we relish Sublimed in arc of love we cherish
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Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 9:10 AM UTC
Spectrum of Love
Your ego is just an illusion. pain; just let it pass by. live by the moment and savor your time. critics walls your maze so be it, seize, get by. regrets could pull you off momentum backfires; just when you reached success, you face your bid of decline. and when we give in to pleasure reality check is sublimed. Your ego is just an illusion wake up establish your stable. It's the years that will reveal. truth's harsh, and is inevitable.
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Aug 31, 2012
Aug 31, 2012 at 11:18 AM UTC
Your ego is just an illusion
Half our bodies oxygen,       by mass. Transfermium Wars-  who knew?       elemental naming controversy,       my new favorite war. Americium-241 in your smoke detector,      alpha emitter, ionizing **** Dual atomic clocks- Ytterbium lattice-      understanding would taint this fun.      (Apparently there is a Time and Frequency      Division somewhere). Solid to vapor- if only we sublimed      our way home, though maybe better      suited for air signs. An earth sign, myself,      sticking to terra dirtus. 2, 8, 20, 28, 50, 82, 126- the Magic      Numbers in physics- full nuclei,      like full bellies- maybe our magic years too...      'cept for 126- unless you're a Galapagos tortoise. Manganese blackening bulls in Lascaux. Plumbum latin for lead, ala plumbers and their pipes      of yesteryear. Fire and brimestone actually fire and sulfur,      still wrathful, though I always      imagined brimstone as being a      damning brick falling. You won't be synthesized, maybe never discovered,                 yet we sense you near, proposed metal,                 silvery white and ghosting....                                                                      119.
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Dec 8, 2019
Dec 8, 2019 at 11:33 PM UTC
Elemental
The prime, sublimed In the ambience Of time The seductive spectrum Of rays, find its way, To shine The greens of the oak The forest pines, bow To their shrine The creatures, the preachers The four-legged, the two-legged Teachers Roam this dome This earth, our world We call it home... ©sim
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Sep 11, 2017
Sep 11, 2017 at 4:27 AM UTC
Dome Our Home
Love lined In 4/4s and 3/5ths     Off tone but sublimed Hunch right to see ya' Like the leaning tower of Pizza inclined to take ya out for pizza Looking like a mona lisa look a alike But they got you mistook You're your own woman The best alive in my book The best in my life understood me Never took me for granted Instead she planted a seed in me Watch me grow, grant wishes infinitely Sowed love but never sold love, give that away for free   Grow above the traumas facing me We can grow above the traumas Plain to see we can grow above Whats pained us to be human Its not all slayer and doom in This world. Theres beauty in humanity. In you and me. I can see the beauty in you Hope youll be able to see whats plain to see The divine beauty within your deeds
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Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 12:29 AM UTC
Music Love Therapy (He)Art Writing
I catch myself quoting poetry to be written and I do I wonder, am I that crazy are my religious endeavors all in vain will I have Romans banging on my back door I know art is my fix I have nearly done them all just not keen on pottery or chipping at marble with tools I am more of a cerebral man made of music and rhythm I write for the love for it so not just for isms Oh come my gentile folk I don't do it for a dime some of my babies will one day be sublimed By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
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May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 9:45 PM UTC
Some Of My Babies
I cried for joy That wasn't mine I found the tears In love sublimed
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Nov 10, 2023
Nov 10, 2023 at 11:44 AM UTC
Alchemy
Among the dancing daffodils And there above in the milky way. In all rhymes of Wordsworth And in all of the Shakespeare's play. "YOU" and "I" sublimed into us.
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Mar 2, 2019
Mar 2, 2019 at 12:43 AM UTC
Milky Way
But deceptive blood-robed pomegranates With their piteous decay, and sullen seeds Packed as kids’ taut skins in sand-tinted crates; With bloom, with ruin, and sweet as reeds Them reeds naught know of plain parched mourn As wails it and yields to their illiterate lips; As stumbles then snakelike out— thin and worn. Begotten unwanted, poorly fathomed, forgotten wisps Of old, odourless leisured hours, That scrubbed, so gruntled, and scratched the fruit. Then white silks soft within parched blue days; And no heirs birthed, sublimed the flowers. Touch it; the crumple and crêpe is not yet soot If it could bleed, it could bloom alive, ablaze.
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Sep 29, 2021
Sep 29, 2021 at 1:59 PM UTC
Jasmines