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"submersed" poems
The bright blue bottle hit me like a hint of death       on the breath of Spring. I imagined it being tossed out a truck window by underage teens fancying themselves clever       and mature and immortal as if the earth had willed upon them       that her stolen treasure, Aluminum, be returned or she’d cause their truck keys       disappear for all eternity.       I picked up the blue bottle tried to feel resurrection       in a recycling sort of way felt instead only the hollow emptiness       of mindless eternal reincarnation. Winter had been long this year and lately I fantasized resurrection more than usual at a field where I stopped to listen to meadowlark and field sparrow calling for mates or alerting everyone to the sin of the blue bottle. Several deer grazed the unseen first greens of Spring near skunk cabbage and coltsfoot. At a small stream, I cupped my hand into the icy fast water and raised it to my lips, then splashed my face, then splashed some more, more, then knelt, both knees at the streambed and submersed my face and head, in self-inflicted baptism       for my own blue bottle sins, opened my eyes, exhaled all my blue bubbles, for the longest of repentant moments, pulled out of the water gasping the holy Spring air       for dear life and thereafter walked each step in the garden of resurrection.
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Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 9:25 PM UTC
The Blue Bottle
this is for the Dreamers, Lovers, and Surgeons for the Hopeless Stargazer who immortalized his Subject with one hundred and eight sets of fourteen lines in iambic pentameter for ***** tight clad teenage boys who envied frisky fleas, struggling to make holy ungodly passions with cheap arguments and metaphysical pick up lines for Disillusioned City Dwellers, who, wandering lonely as clouds, stopped to quietly reflect upon wind-beaten moss-covered crags, and heard God’s whisper thunder from petals and blades of grass this is for the Dreamers, Lovers, and Surgeons for Bespectacled Slave Drivers who submersed idle minds in anthologies,  forcing them to **** neon yellow on dreams deferred and rivers;  slicing and dicing Grecian urns with red ball point pens; bruising and battering, in blue ball point, roads not taken; scalding supermarkets in California with pyroclastic flows of graphite   for those pushing to tear apart lines and letters, reconstructing ,deconstructing, agonizing, imaginizing, bullshitting, and brooding on to crisp white sheets in times new roman twelve point font for the Monsters and Lollipops that exist in the millimeters between a skull and a brain this is for the Dreamers, Lovers, and Surgeons slumbering beneath Restless Leaves Under the Moon
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Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 10:39 AM UTC
Dreamers, Lovers, and Surgeons
I love you I love you I love you More than you could ever know More than anyone ever hopes to be loved. More than you can understand. More than you can fathom. A limitless, unconditional, fierce love. The kind that comes like a passionate hurricane and still soft and sweet like morning fog. That's how much I love you. Know that I never knew love until I met you and you unlocked doors to emotions that I never thought were real. This fierce romantic love never roared until you awakened it That's why I always said that you saved my life. Because you did. I was dead, the pain was so much and then you came in, bringing with you euphoria that I only ever experienced in small doses. But holy **** when you walked into the room my blood felt like it was on fire. A yearning and craving unlike anything I'd ever experienced before, not just to feel your body but to know your mind. To know and behold all quirks of your personality, everything. I wanted to be completely submersed in the universe that is your mind. So now do you understand what I mean when I say "I love you" ?
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Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 8:43 PM UTC
Now do you understand?
I find myself slipping back into the love I had for you like sliding down the tub submersing my head till every sound outside is muffled and distant how I love the world below the bubbles that float on top of the bath so peaceful, and serene but I cannot stay under too long enjoying the separation from reality for no matter how wonderful it may seem detached, submersed eventually I have to come up for air and hear it all for real, above the water
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Jan 31, 2011
Jan 31, 2011 at 8:12 PM UTC
bubble baths
Why do you not share   Out of fear ? Scared? Your fantasy Of Big **** or of Big ***** The touch of a whip Your fantasy of Women to women Men to men A ********* A foursome One or more Walking naked through someone's door Your fantasy Of Dressing like a man Dressing like woman Playing doctor and nurse Your Fantasy does not have to be rehearsed It is not a curse your just quenching your thirst Go ahead let it be the first Let your hair down and Be submersed In your fantasy Get out of your agony It's not insanity It is a fantasy of Sensuality Sexuality   There is no shame in a little pain You have nothing to lose Why would you let it be such a recluse Let  loose be seductive and corrupted In Your fantasy
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Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 10:12 PM UTC
Your fantasy
So I am a mutt And this is my poem about having split identities *And not knowing who the **** I am* I am Chinese and Irish Got them green eyes, but eat rice with every dish Have the freckles, but my first language wasn't English Back in high school, people called me white washed But then, Pointed and called me that Asian People would sneer, "You aren't even real Chinese" But there are so many things you all don't see Like how my Tiger mom screams at home About getting straight As Till her shrills leave me frozen to the bone And when I had a boyfriend she didn't approve of She yanked my hair And I cried it wasn't fair She yelled, "oh I'll give the boys something to stare" I watched as she cut all of it off Strand by strand Like a strong gust of wind blowing all the leaves off the branches till it was bare in winter The following day at school, my excuse was I needed a new look, so this was her And meals I don't even know how to translate into English are my comfort food But I can down some fries and burgers when I'm with the dudes I embrace both sides of what I am But people categorize me into one, God **** With my Chinese family They straight up tell you You too skinny, too fat, so silly They say my accent has gotten worse The anger builds up of embarrassment and hurt The race makes my face so red, it's like my head will soon burst There's this underlying feeling of shame, that's the worst Which side of me do I need to prioritize first? I'm drowning between the ocean of two separate cultures, I'm submersed English is the language I think in and I curse There's so much more I can't even tell you within this verse Oh the irony doesn't end there My driving stereotypes are quite the scare Cause I'm Chinese, automatically I **** at driving But mixed with Irish, I'm also road raging It's probably the worst combination Of a stereotype from two different nations Ha oh there's more The drinking stereotype that's for sure Irish side could down the whiskey much too quickly But the Chinese typically are easily tipsy This mix is kind of risky One turns so incredibly red And the other can get so drunk, you'd see two heads I feel I am constantly at war One side always wanting more
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Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 3:03 PM UTC
Chinese vs. Irish
So I am a mutt And this is my poem about having split identities *And not knowing who the **** I am* I am Chinese and Irish Got them green eyes, but eat rice with every dish Have the freckles, but my first language wasn't English Back in high school, people called me white washed But then, Pointed and called me that Asian People would sneer, "You aren't even real Chinese" But there are so many things you all don't see Like how my Tiger mom screams at home About getting straight As Till her shrills leave me frozen to the bone And when I had a boyfriend she didn't approve of She yanked my hair And I cried it wasn't fair She yelled, "oh I'll give the boys something to stare" I watched as she cut all of it off Strand by strand Like a strong gust of wind blowing all the leaves off the branches till it was bare in winter The following day at school, my excuse was I needed a new look, so this was her And meals I don't even know how to translate into English are my comfort food But I can down some fries and burgers when I'm with the dudes I embrace both sides of what I am But people categorize me into one, God **** With my Chinese family They straight up tell you You too skinny, too fat, so silly They say my accent has gotten worse The anger builds up of embarrassment and hurt The race makes my face so red, it's like my head will soon burst There's this underlying feeling of shame, that's the worst Which side of me do I need to prioritize first? I'm drowning between the ocean of two separate cultures, I'm submersed English is the language I think in and I curse There's so much more I can't even tell you within this verse Oh the irony doesn't end there My driving stereotypes are quite the scare Cause I'm Chinese, automatically I **** at driving But mixed with Irish, I'm also road raging It's probably the worst combination Of a stereotype from two different nations Ha oh there's more The drinking stereotype that's for sure Irish side could down the whiskey much too quickly But the Chinese typically are easily tipsy This mix is kind of risky One turns so incredibly red And the other can get so drunk, you'd see two heads I feel I am constantly at war One side always wanting more
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52
**Felt the pretense behind closed eyes,   composed vibrations of rhetoric                  freelancing in executing ignis fatuus drank the kool-aid of your own grandeur    a punch drunk conviction's onus    in false pretenses of a  mislead head trip a study in contradiction's convulsions     simmered of half past lucid judgement,    junctures of reality submersed       in cloudy formations         impervious to reasoning** ...a saga written upon piqued skies of indifference
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Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 10:42 AM UTC
pretense behind closed eyes
I've drowned before, in a literal sense of the word. I, fancying myself adept, bored of shallow waters dived in to the depths. However, proving my pride quite wrong, the water submersed me with its innate and temperate nature to a world void of breath or zephyr. I flailed my arms, and kicked my feet; but to the sapphire liquid my efforts came quiet inept. Understanding my current disposition, I left myself be enveloped. My lungs wailed and burned, the irony hardly lost, and as I sank towards the muted pit of abysmal blue I construed of Love's similar tactics. Because now that I am drowning in the loveliness of your undiluted singularity; the resonance of sound, when around you, is dulled by the  euphony of your voice, my lungs have a lack of oxygen and the tilt of the colors of the spectrum are vibrant and mesmerizing. I've drowned before, in a metacognitive sense of the word. I, more experienced, don't fancy myself a great swimmer, because in the torrents of your sea, I am but a mariner lost in the sublime beauty of exquisite waters.
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Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
Drowning, in a sense
Maybe it's the champagne or maybe it's faith But it's strange anyway That we've never shared space kind of deranged in a way that I can't kiss your face I hope it's okay that I say it It's on my mind everyday I've had so much champagne I can't deny what I'm saying it's insane that your face blinds my right of purveying or in saying sometimes saying it's a game that we're playing i'm not playing babygirl it's [your name] i've been saying it's your face i've been blaming on every single curve catch me cursing the verse your name leaves on my shirt i disperse it well of course it's a curse a voice I haven't heard yet so of course i'm submersed & of course it is yours & you the most gorgeous of all and me a thrown ball in Autumn watch me fall watch me fall watch me fall watch me fall
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Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 6:18 PM UTC
Mimosa
Blue flash, your name in bold black I’m drawn back Back to where what I’ve got doesn’t seem enough Where butterflies rush to the open skies Where freedom explodes on their coloured wings For what seems like eternity lifted on white noise A contradiction of oblivion and intensity Paused time unaware of anything Submersed in focused feelings aware of everything Aware of the rush of heat steam rolling through my body Prickly heady sensations of arrogant adrenaline Taking out my feet from under me and my head from any responsibility But still I smile My favourite notification drives me wild
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Jan 20, 2018
Jan 20, 2018 at 8:42 PM UTC
Favourite Notification
summer wind, aging daisies, whilst you spin tulips in a field. always been raging gracefully, whilst i gaze upon your form. treacherous as these waters may seem to some, this is my life blood. i am submersed in eros. dizzy spin, writhing bodies, whilst you cringe in elation. talk is thin, striving deeply for a demolition of the end. as endless as this may seem, i know it is finite. this is truth. i will submerse myself in you.
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Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 5:44 PM UTC
eros and i.
Bleeding eclipse splatters anguish, scorching frozen terrain Reservoir transmits despair, vaporizing humid remains Noxious fumes plague ventilation, incinerating methane mutilates Inhumane detonations ignite smog, dismembering shrapnel decimates Bombardments stimulate hallucinations, assailants discharge magazines Incendiaries barrage trenches, vulnerability flourishes disease Artilleries eject carnage, atrocious quarantine impedes retreat Projectiles massacre infantry, heinous airstrike parries deceit Howitzer impersonates tempest, kamikaze technique revealed Nautical battleships converge, perilous adversaries concealed Submarines launch torpedoes, oblivious warships sealed doom Submersed submersibles clash, claustrophobic vessels entomb Drowning agony crushes depths, forsaken lagoon transforms necropolis Aquatic daemons consume decrepit, infernal torment surrenders providence Condemned mortals cauterize compassion, genocide exterminates consciousness Snorkeling corpses mound topside, eradicated infestation forfeited holocaust
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May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 8:26 PM UTC
Holocaust
flying into Chi-town Altoids of various sizes litter the scenery. An artfully constructed playset thrown off by the skilled placement of refreshing breath mints. Maybe they’re off brand, or perhaps ecstasy, though I don’t see any smiley faces or hearts. I like to look for high school tracks as we descend. Forget the football fields, they’re far less interesting. Mostly black, though sometimes gravel, dirt or red and even purple once, though not in Chi-town. The homestretch extending beyond each curve; no hurdles in sight much less a sand pit. A mile inland there is some sort of water. The body scattered and split like some kind of man-made accident. shallow sand banks invisible from the ground look like dead whales. floating (submersed) there like lifeless, sandy corpses. Maybe it’s because of my “Free ***** spree, but I see whales. I’ve never been to Chicago, only in and out of the airport and catching glimpses of what I can see through the windows of Midway. My good friend has flown with me once, but we parted at the big city. Have you ever wondered why cities are built like mountains? the tallest buildings in the center with everything else leading up to it? Kinda like that Verizon commercial with the magnet and lead… Maybe I’ll Google it to find an answer. There’s a private airport a little closer. (Too good for Southwest to land there). Private jets and runways too classy to have a White Castle across the expressway from it. They have cornfields. Even closer now. The houses larger with matching sheds and identical roves. Almost all have pools, makes sense for a windy city like Chi-town. Some are covered and nasty for the impending winter. Playsets and driveways, minimal trees. I wonder if the children ever get scared when the shadow of a 700 series darkens their windows and slides. If they look up and feel warmth in their Children’s Place pants, throwing their ice cream to the wind and catapulting into the comfort of their father’s arms and then write about it 13 years later after they get off that plane. “Thank you for flying with us today, please come back and see us soon.” A desperate cry for profit
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Dec 14, 2010
Dec 14, 2010 at 5:45 AM UTC
Chi-town Stream of Consciousness
flying into Chi-town Altoids of various sizes litter the scenery. An artfully constructed playset thrown off by the skilled placement of refreshing breath mints. Maybe they’re off brand, or perhaps ecstasy, though I don’t see any smiley faces or hearts. I like to look for high school tracks as we descend. Forget the football fields, they’re far less interesting. Mostly black, though sometimes gravel, dirt or red and even purple once, though not in Chi-town. The homestretch extending beyond each curve; no hurdles in sight much less a sand pit. A mile inland there is some sort of water. The body scattered and split like some kind of man-made accident. shallow sand banks invisible from the ground look like dead whales. floating (submersed) there like lifeless, sandy corpses. Maybe it’s because of my “Free ***** spree, but I see whales. I’ve never been to Chicago, only in and out of the airport and catching glimpses of what I can see through the windows of Midway. My good friend has flown with me once, but we parted at the big city. Have you ever wondered why cities are built like mountains? the tallest buildings in the center with everything else leading up to it? Kinda like that Verizon commercial with the magnet and lead… Maybe I’ll Google it to find an answer. There’s a private airport a little closer. (Too good for Southwest to land there). Private jets and runways too classy to have a White Castle across the expressway from it. They have cornfields. Even closer now. The houses larger with matching sheds and identical roves. Almost all have pools, makes sense for a windy city like Chi-town. Some are covered and nasty for the impending winter. Playsets and driveways, minimal trees. I wonder if the children ever get scared when the shadow of a 700 series darkens their windows and slides. If they look up and feel warmth in their Children’s Place pants, throwing their ice cream to the wind and catapulting into the comfort of their father’s arms and then write about it 13 years later after they get off that plane. “Thank you for flying with us today, please come back and see us soon.” A desperate cry for profit
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87
What have I done to you? Tell me, What connection do my conscious movements have to you to Make your limbs itch to reflex And smite me with? the bubbles that burst with my submersed words reveal my vehement purpose; you ask me why and then drown me more - I am not made for you, not Made to make you content, my Materials are not plethoric nor easily spent I don't have the means to Repeatedly sedate you when you Knowingly defy the warnings and drain the poison Again and over, and Foam at the mouth with both love and anger for me
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Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 1:11 PM UTC
What have I done to you?
when the night plunged darkness took me in its closet i begin to vouch for the taste my delights, my dreams we've got nowhere to go we've got no secrets and i stand alone with solitary soul its a consolation where else you see real picture the dusky shadows and murky humor .. it does not submersed me in its charm neither voices nor people..the happening it never has..it never did living in cracked life is a joy pursuing myself day by day- endless to get what i lost i thank heaven for the mercy he bestowed me with staying with me..in my worn out heart it did mend..it did get widen and the songs of my wonderings persist without a desire to be heard or to be understood it was a solitary ride about a soulful thought ..forgetful of any cares they all turned out to be my weary companions my the loyalist- the friendliest of all i slowly took everything out of me minute to minute..it profoundly wounded my affections and pinched my soul; all my profane profanity stir up I refuted with all my confessions; and made it be absent!!
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Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 6:07 PM UTC
companions
I still just can't forget the burning of garden in spring Would I be able to get someone to interpret my dream My vision carries all the pain of my life to bring in string Beams of light pave way for my eternal little life stream Love is not ordinary wine be taken from a shop of wine It carries the essence and fragrance of hand of beloved Lover in sheer trance cries that you are mine, you are mine And in intoxication takes the entire bottle by opening lid The priest deals with exterior while sophist deals interior Love is what tinkles in clean heart and is not sunburst Faith is matter of heart hence remains eternal and superior Surface be damaged while remains intact the submersed Col Muhammad Khalid Khan Copyright 2017 Golden Gold
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Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 3:55 AM UTC
A True Dream
I should have said it louder so you would have understood and your I'm sorry's mean nothing. I should have pushed you further But my bones were weak and hollow, my veins were submersed in wine, and the wall was so close. Stolen in the twilight, a few stars from my eyes. They should have been closed, locked away from your greedy palms. Awoke with regret, and a sinking chest. Disgusted by the body I lay against. So from under the bed I grabbed my brown boots. Without saying more then two words, walked away from you. Dressed in the outfit from the night before, the walk back to my room never felt so long. Walked up the stairs, undressed from the sweaty mess. Turned the *** and watched as water poured out along with sliver steam. Head first, so quiet and safe. Like the one who is miles away. I pulled my heart string I heard yours beating in reply. I remembered that I was all yours, and only yours. I'm so lucky to have you.
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Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 11:25 PM UTC
I'm Sorry Too
I’ve been swept away Fallen into yesterday As nostalgic dreams cloud my mind I have come to find That I’ve been spirited away Floating, falling, fading; in and out of time Submersed in a reality of past memories Drowning in the thought of the present My mind won’t stay afloat in this sea of nostalgia I’ve been swept away Haunted by yesterday As these dreams strangle my mind I have come to find That I’ve been spirited away
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Sep 7, 2010
Sep 7, 2010 at 8:08 PM UTC
Swept Away
Down in the grotto we’d go to swim Whenever the tide was high And pouring into the basin there, At low tide it was dry, I’d go with the Percival sisters Who would laugh and call and dive, While bursting out of their suits, it seemed A time to be alive. While Carolyn had the bigger ******* Brittany had the thighs, Carolyn had the sweetest smile But Brittany had the eyes, I never could choose between them for I loved them both the same, They’d flaunt themselves in the grotto pool To them it was just a game. The light would glimmer within the cave Reflect off the grotto walls, And from the roof would echo again The sound of the girls catcalls, We’d swim, then climb on a ledge of rock To dry ourselves in the air, And listen to water lapping in From the mouth of the cave out there. They often would try to bully me To say who I loved the best, I’d always say that I loved them both And they’d say I failed the test, So one day, standing upon the ledge They both peeled their costumes off, And said, ‘now tell us the one you love Or haven’t you seen enough.’ The sisters’ beauty caught at my throat And took the most of my breath, I’d never seen them naked before Nor since, I swear on my death, I couldn’t answer, so they got mad And flung me into the pool, Then swam around me, ******* and legs Determined to play the fool. Brittany trapped me between her thighs While Carolyn pushed me down, The water swirled at my head so long I thought I was going to drown, But finally they’d had enough of me Holding me down, submersed, And I shot up to the surface then Thinking my lungs would burst. It’s years since ever we went to swim Together again, all three, For finally I had to make a choice, Which one would marry me. Brittany’s now my loving wife For I found between her thighs, In the grotto swim, when she squeezed me in, The truth in a world of lies. David Lewis Paget
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Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 7:29 PM UTC
The Naked Grotto
Down in the grotto we’d go to swim Whenever the tide was high And pouring into the basin there, At low tide it was dry, I’d go with the Percival sisters Who would laugh and call and dive, While bursting out of their suits, it seemed A time to be alive. While Carolyn had the bigger ******* Brittany had the thighs, Carolyn had the sweetest smile But Brittany had the eyes, I never could choose between them for I loved them both the same, They’d flaunt themselves in the grotto pool To them it was just a game. The light would glimmer within the cave Reflect off the grotto walls, And from the roof would echo again The sound of the girls catcalls, We’d swim, then climb on a ledge of rock To dry ourselves in the air, And listen to water lapping in From the mouth of the cave out there. They often would try to bully me To say who I loved the best, I’d always say that I loved them both And they’d say I failed the test, So one day, standing upon the ledge They both peeled their costumes off, And said, ‘now tell us the one you love Or haven’t you seen enough.’ The sisters’ beauty caught at my throat And took the most of my breath, I’d never seen them naked before Nor since, I swear on my death, I couldn’t answer, so they got mad And flung me into the pool, Then swam around me, ******* and legs Determined to play the fool. Brittany trapped me between her thighs While Carolyn pushed me down, The water swirled at my head so long I thought I was going to drown, But finally they’d had enough of me Holding me down, submersed, And I shot up to the surface then Thinking my lungs would burst. It’s years since ever we went to swim Together again, all three, For finally I had to make a choice, Which one would marry me. Brittany’s now my loving wife For I found between her thighs, In the grotto swim, when she squeezed me in, The truth in a world of lies. David Lewis Paget
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57
A great greening is on Along the St. Clair River. Across it, like hands in tight grip, The Bluewater Bridge transcepts A submersed dotted line. The Stars and Stripes look sharp Fluttering and greeting us. Beside it, The red Maple Leaf in full regalia Snaps and spins beneath our Spring sun, Now casting evening shadows easterward.
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Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 8:07 AM UTC
The Greening
Propitious clouds fill the horizon, blocking cosmic rays Emanating from a lingering celestial beast. On these grounds of substance, humanity subsists with a curiosity Unquenchable mouths and minds -- we begin a rampant search for meaning. The vibrations of our search loosen the crust, exposing the fleeting nature of being Bewildered by this discovery we blind ourselves with faith, as if we deserve more Unable to see, we flee in a direction unknown for the chance that it may remedy our pleas. A shadowy remembrance of these requests ripple across arid aspect. Heedlessly stumbling upon past, present, and future, we careen towards the eminence of death. Desires fumes overwhelm, collapsing beneath these earthly plumes. Our last breathe exclaims,”Life is pain, for we are submersed in the mundane!” Sensationally-- as our hearts begin to tread their last beats Droplets of clarity deluge our dire thirst -- propitious clouds that once smothered the horizon Bequeath themselves of all significance, affixed at high noon Exposing anew the celestial beast that emanates a sanguine gleam Reflecting in the pools that surround our pulpy minds
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Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 4:11 PM UTC
Forecast of the Weather