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"suggestive" poems
The virtuous society Lost regulates overwhelming                                DISTASTEFUL                                Condescension Depraved citizens all contained then become cynical                                BREAKING                                 Reprehension A mandate or suggestive guideline to think like a criminal
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Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 5:56 PM UTC
Savvy in 2014
A body still from excitement Head to the sky, waiting A whole frosted dance is about to appear Earth’s colossal yet gentle hands grab the sun And turn off the gleaming lights Darkness Restful darkness The ample wind covers the area Like an invisible curtain of chilled silk Then a moment of calm Everything is still As if a single picture was taken Vibrant silver angels in their white cotton Fall from endless stage in the sky Embodying the frozen air Thrusting their ****** dance As they float towards the ground These suggestive pale dancers Land on your still excited body Using it as their new birthed platform They use their sensual ballet To send ice cold stings through your bones To bring a ****** tingle to your mind Until your heart ******* to a perky smile. This is called the seductive winter dance Able to make your mouth gleam And your soul tickle Embrace the frigid sensation As you give birth to your inner thrill
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Jun 15, 2010
Jun 15, 2010 at 9:11 PM UTC
Seductive Winter Dance
A head, gnashing and screaming Forgiving my unknown hospitality Pretty is weakening I'm a fatality deemed Obnoxious is my scene The mocking and mimicking comes easy for me No secret, I envy the earth's energy Depressed, sitting in my fancy dress Shoving and tugging with desirable credibility I ravish my personality Amused? As I show my tender meat bleeding Kissing, authentic generosity A bit suggestive Confidence in deranged descriptions making others nervous Excuse me, I must leave my head is blistering, Popping, Gushing and oozing profanities Dented durability, consume me I love the fact I'm lacking Becoming one with the barbaric queen
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May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 at 1:06 AM UTC
Broken isn't cute
I do not like the feeling of examination, of eyes burning on my back as if you are a small match and I am the bushfire you wish to light... I do not like the feeling of obssessive observation, I do not like privacy violation, I do not like the feeling of claustrophobia, I do not like claustrophobia because it doesn't cease to exist by simply removing ten people from one room. I do not like claustrophobia because sometimes your own mind is enough to provoke a certain type of wanderlust, the kind where you run away and leave everyone to rot and rust. I do not like claustrophobia because when I am alone, it can never be enough alone, it feels like the walls of my room are breathing on my neck; they're laughing at me, declaring this poet insane, it is the most crowded type of alone until somebody, something sedates my brain and you call me "suggestive anxiety" it's all in your head, you're a game of chance and I'm taking a guess; you know my face but you know nothing about my name.
0
Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 11:29 AM UTC
Claustrophobia
Autumn is a Greek sea, A summation of wet leaves, Gathered wicks of sunset, A hypocaust of warm water, That lies beneath our feet, Incense from the Sea of Crete, Risen to the airy suggestive. Autumn is a word in the mind, fallen leaf-like to the mouth, How like the orange rind, our ancient past is shriveled under pillars.
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May 29, 2022
May 29, 2022 at 8:24 PM UTC
Autumn is a Greek Sea
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Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 1:58 PM UTC
Post-Capitalism
you listen to what passes for the TV news you read some but not all of social media views you notice that despite all internationalism it‘s mostly old sensationalism combined with more or less suggestive speculations about how many people may have died in forest fires to what imaginable depths the president aspires whether the North Koreans have more rockets      despite the wonderful achievements      of the national superdealer who of the leader‘s staff might be the next       to lose her job or his credentials etc. etc. in short the world has mostly shrunk to domestic politics and power games plus a few places on the globe where U.S. soldiers still are dying      in order to protect their country‘s interests      in oil, assorted mineral resources      or allies of political expedience or a few thousand refugees from countries plagued       by persecution or dictators are       marching for weeks to claim asylum            in the home of the brave and the free            under the statue of liberty      only to discover that they are seen      as an invasion threatening             that blesséd city upon a hill visions have grown smaller more petty voices dominate the talk a nation made of immigrants faced with the poor who flee from their oppressors decides to close its borders to the immigrants‘ next wave oblivious of the times when they themselves still searching for a better life found a new place where they felt safe led by the statue‘s torch that shone its light upon a poet‘s words of welcome: "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
0
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 11:36 AM UTC
smaller world
you listen to what passes for the TV news you read some but not all of social media views you notice that despite all internationalism it‘s mostly old sensationalism combined with more or less suggestive speculations about how many people may have died in forest fires to what imaginable depths the president aspires whether the North Koreans have more rockets      despite the wonderful achievements      of the national superdealer who of the leader‘s staff might be the next       to lose her job or his credentials etc. etc. in short the world has mostly shrunk to domestic politics and power games plus a few places on the globe where U.S. soldiers still are dying      in order to protect their country‘s interests      in oil, assorted mineral resources      or allies of political expedience or a few thousand refugees from countries plagued       by persecution or dictators are       marching for weeks to claim asylum            in the home of the brave and the free            under the statue of liberty      only to discover that they are seen      as an invasion threatening             that blesséd city upon a hill visions have grown smaller more petty voices dominate the talk a nation made of immigrants faced with the poor who flee from their oppressors decides to close its borders to the immigrants‘ next wave oblivious of the times when they themselves still searching for a better life found a new place where they felt safe led by the statue‘s torch that shone its light upon a poet‘s words of welcome: "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
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47
The formulae for well being is found in those memories, a preparedness to unearth yesterday's yearbooks; which releases those far flung controls of analogue,  resurrecting belt driven record players to play Starbuck and Brothers Johnson reviving  '76, mentally speeding on pristine motorways, buzzing by on a chevy  corvette humming to the suggestive "Afternoon Delight" vying with your Radio's antenna.
0
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 7:05 AM UTC
Gateway 1976
I'm a pretty random person. I'm so random I plan it out. ***** Is a thing I'd never say, if i wasn't so **** random. It's too suggestive that ***** Makes people think of bad things. I like my ***** With not too much hair. My friend once had a persian ***** And it had a lot of hair. I didn't like her ***** Because it always scratched me. My friend Lucas also had a ***** But it was nice. But it's funny, cus' his ***** Was called Laban. I hope I made you think of CATS!
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Mar 29, 2010
Mar 29, 2010 at 4:02 PM UTC
*****
So, yeah. This would all have been a lot easier If I didn't have the heart of a Poet. But I'll say this: Please love to learn, So we can have *** with Semicolons in as suggestive a ********* as they would imply. I know I lost my innocence to an Adjective, but didn't we all? There's no room for jealousy in Poetry, We just rhyme and give the rhyme Time to define, and aline with the Rhythm to create a devine Relaxationary artpiece to be consumed By any reader who would find the Time to entwine with a sentence Or line, and use'em to maybe just Describe the feeling of a hand On the face of a man as myself, who Has written so much of the things one Can touch, that he looks at the world As a man that a girl Can tell: *Look at me, and say all You can see is the face of Eternity.* I am that man, with a pen in his hand, And you could say it, but I surely   Know it: My body's a worker's. My soul is a poet's.
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Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 8:59 PM UTC
As Suggestive a ********* (part one of the ********* triology)
India is a traditional nation of high virtues, the compliments from and to an Indian must suit our moral image as described in books and epics. I think that each nation has a rich history at its base. Non-worthy, destructive, insulting, or over frank comments suggestive of other actions must never be made publicly or else emotions and feelings are going to be hurt badly one fine day and nothing can prevent the destruction.
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Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 4:42 AM UTC
Compliments
Above the earth and below the sun, Exhaled from volcanoes long ago. Stately as the ships of the Spanish Armada, Sailing the horizon graceful and slow. Bearer of ambrosia that innervates the earth, Harvester of water and what the winds blow. Ageless and formless, taking every shape Suggestive to reason of what we do not know.
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Mar 16, 2012
Mar 16, 2012 at 7:49 AM UTC
Clouds
Carrying your name forward on a silver stein raft with the wreckage of me I long to crave, mouth agape, eyes watering proof I long to crave, my deciduous vulnerability flashed wide upon when you’re there I long to crave, your sweet nectar lips dipped in honey; have a taste of your white chocolate lava cake I long to crave, to stare into the openness of your porcelaina doll face I long to crave, look through the window to your soul through your nebulaic eyes. I long to crave, Suggestively suggestive advice from you to me to you I long to crave, My lover dreamer’s dream I long to crave, My tinder streak keeping me warm I long to crave, the shoulder to lean on in my darkest hours I long to crave, The person I want to be beside When I’m at my most beautiful. I long to crave, Oh, how I long to crave ? My undying longing to crave. You.
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Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 8:43 AM UTC
Decadence.
As suggestive a ********* as the Thought of ink kissing paper kissing Eyes kissing Ink back. Letters drawn describing The sound of drip-dripping drops onto Parchment to form Circular inkless stains on it, or perhaps in These days rendering a touch screen Untouchable; *Do you really wish to delete this Draft?* "No, idiot machine. I just cried on it."
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Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 6:18 AM UTC
********* Poetry; Pen and Poet (part two of the ********* triology)
endearing words and suggestive eyes brightened the room / accenting conversations that flowed smoother than honey / souls spun / quickly approaching and nearly colliding / unravelling like two ribbons / one maroon / one ebony / until one day / ebony suddenly curled back into itself / maroon was suspended in air for years / as if steeped in time / but dense air weighed maroon down / so maroon descended / letting go / when ebony came back in its unraveled glory / maroon curled back to itself.
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Apr 4, 2022
Apr 4, 2022 at 10:18 PM UTC
strange behavior.
She thinks she is the kind of beauty that many worship. All thin figure, All dark eyes, All nails that leave marks on your back and All her lip biting and soft moaning She thinks her beauty is a set of curves She thinks her beauty is legs Hips Suggestive submission She thinks her beauty is just talent, She thinks her beauty is just an act She thinks she's average, and her beauty is just made up But her beauty is her eyes after the make up has run off. They glow the sweetest, lightest green (Her favorite color) When the mask of mascara melts in a scalding hot shower Her beauty melts you the same way. Her beauty is the way she melts into your arms. The way she talks like she doesn't care who listens And listens like you're the only one that ever listened to her The way she can say two things with one word and mean both of them. Her beauty is persistence. She would rather **** Superman than marry him And I have no doubt that she could do either if she wanted to. Her beauty is paying rent when she is already gone. Her beauty is talking to the new guy when nobody else does, just to make sure he has someone to talk to. Her beauty isn't in wanting to come in, but in her want to stay. Her beauty is freedom seeking a place to tie itself down, Her beauty is love for the sake of healing, Even when the love isn't there. Her beauty is the way she gives her faith to every good thing that comes her way. The way she loves her dog. More so, it's the way her dog loves her back. The way her grandmother loves her back. The way her friends love her. The way a complete stranger can feel warm for days, Just by meeting her for minutes. The way nice guys have a real chance. The way that she gives seconds chances to everybody, The way anybody would risk humiliation to have one. Her beauty is so deep that people can't climb back out once they've fallen in. She thinks it's her ability to make love that's beautiful. But I want her to know, So desperately, It's much simpler than that. She is beautiful because it's so **** easy to love her.
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Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 1:43 AM UTC
My New Muse
She thinks she is the kind of beauty that many worship. All thin figure, All dark eyes, All nails that leave marks on your back and All her lip biting and soft moaning She thinks her beauty is a set of curves She thinks her beauty is legs Hips Suggestive submission She thinks her beauty is just talent, She thinks her beauty is just an act She thinks she's average, and her beauty is just made up But her beauty is her eyes after the make up has run off. They glow the sweetest, lightest green (Her favorite color) When the mask of mascara melts in a scalding hot shower Her beauty melts you the same way. Her beauty is the way she melts into your arms. The way she talks like she doesn't care who listens And listens like you're the only one that ever listened to her The way she can say two things with one word and mean both of them. Her beauty is persistence. She would rather **** Superman than marry him And I have no doubt that she could do either if she wanted to. Her beauty is paying rent when she is already gone. Her beauty is talking to the new guy when nobody else does, just to make sure he has someone to talk to. Her beauty isn't in wanting to come in, but in her want to stay. Her beauty is freedom seeking a place to tie itself down, Her beauty is love for the sake of healing, Even when the love isn't there. Her beauty is the way she gives her faith to every good thing that comes her way. The way she loves her dog. More so, it's the way her dog loves her back. The way her grandmother loves her back. The way her friends love her. The way a complete stranger can feel warm for days, Just by meeting her for minutes. The way nice guys have a real chance. The way that she gives seconds chances to everybody, The way anybody would risk humiliation to have one. Her beauty is so deep that people can't climb back out once they've fallen in. She thinks it's her ability to make love that's beautiful. But I want her to know, So desperately, It's much simpler than that. She is beautiful because it's so **** easy to love her.
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46
Nothing intimidates me more, Than a woman’s inviting smile, It pierces right down to the core; Appealing to everything I adore; This subtle, suggestive, wile: Whetting the sense of anticipation, Igniting fires of the imagination. Nothing possesses more power, Than a woman’s determined will; Disguised as a delicate flower, Sweetness smothering the sour, Regardless of the pyrrhic thrill; Bewitchment in everything but name, Savouring the illicitness of the game. No ordinary man has a prayer, When a woman stakes her claim; She’ll welcome you into her lair, Reject her desires if you dare, Her revenge has legendary fame; Travelling incognito: deadly intentions, From this wrath, there are no preventions. Do not ever, ever, underestimate. That which cannot be understood: Avoid the temptation to speculate, Categorize, classify or evaluate, The secret mysteries of womanhood; Whenever tempted by an inviting smile; Nod politely then turn, and run a mile. © Paul Chafer 2014
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Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 6:19 AM UTC
Mistress Of Man
When on a crisp morning, her blush in daylight speaks to me in silence, suggestive sweep of eyes scan notice looks, smiles, select moments for admirer to choose chance. ~ First touch is hair, fingertips enter, while soft languor covets skin, just this, enough to arouse eyes, hands feel blessed teasing love. ~ lips drawn toward a meet of anticipation, smiles become ready form to grace each other, eager, anxious delight begins. ~ Your taste while I look inside sultry eyes, saying go, go draw my hips against yours hands slide and shoulders … ~ While now tongues play gasps and fever arise my need to taste all of you begins, soft lips, just love. ~ Our bodies now connect, I feel your ******* as we begin to breathe in one another’s *** – ******* ~ a blouse began my passion that now slides along my chest feeling your ******* draw to my waist, I’m eager, eyes close. ~ Will you please unlatch my … yes, as zipper falls and finger- tips touch inside sliding sweet lips delve into a grasp of me … ~ I lean back against today’s wall.
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Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 6:47 PM UTC
Today's Wall
Igor was torn  between casting          the body of a girl          or young woman,          that was merely sexually attractive - or whether to employ a procession of young nubiles as       secretaries; now that Natalia had thrown him over for Ivan, he needed  a girl or young woman who was sexually mature;       possibly even suitable for marriage;      sexually mature; sexually attractive, desirable, **** luscious; marriageable;                   informally, beddable: Ivan constantly surrounded himself w/ a posse of nubile young women, to forget,      that's what Eli needed to do; mid 17th century: from the Latin nubilis ‘marriageable,’ from nubere,                       to cover or veil       oneself for a bridegroom;      from the nubes  the ‘puffy cloud-like nips’                      of a child bride;                            [risqué]                            photos of coeds of the                                    fifties & those of | _sex-trafficked nubiles_            from last week; |        glamour isn't glamorous; as GMO skanks get injected w/ female growth  hormones                                     just in case they                                decide to         to be mothers someday         slightly indecent or liable to shock, especially by being sexually suggestive; "risqué humor"  ribald, rude, ***** Rabelaisian, ***** **** earthy, indecent, suggestive, improper, naughty,   locker-room; ****** ***** ****** crude, adult, coarse, obscene, lewd, ****** blue, raunchy;             off-color "risqué stories": mid 19th century: French,                 _past participle of risquer ‘to risk’_
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Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 3:04 AM UTC
O for the hex of my ex's **** eyes
Igor was torn  between casting          the body of a girl          or young woman,          that was merely sexually attractive - or whether to employ a procession of young nubiles as       secretaries; now that Natalia had thrown him over for Ivan, he needed  a girl or young woman who was sexually mature;       possibly even suitable for marriage;      sexually mature; sexually attractive, desirable, **** luscious; marriageable;                   informally, beddable: Ivan constantly surrounded himself w/ a posse of nubile young women, to forget,      that's what Eli needed to do; mid 17th century: from the Latin nubilis ‘marriageable,’ from nubere,                       to cover or veil       oneself for a bridegroom;      from the nubes  the ‘puffy cloud-like nips’                      of a child bride;                            [risqué]                            photos of coeds of the                                    fifties & those of | _sex-trafficked nubiles_            from last week; |        glamour isn't glamorous; as GMO skanks get injected w/ female growth  hormones                                     just in case they                                decide to         to be mothers someday         slightly indecent or liable to shock, especially by being sexually suggestive; "risqué humor"  ribald, rude, ***** Rabelaisian, ***** **** earthy, indecent, suggestive, improper, naughty,   locker-room; ****** ***** ****** crude, adult, coarse, obscene, lewd, ****** blue, raunchy;             off-color "risqué stories": mid 19th century: French,                 _past participle of risquer ‘to risk’_
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44
I feel the weight of nearly a hundred moons upon this suggestive flight deck, overtaken by transfusion in a high formation rhythmic way. Fluorescent headphones—neon red, rotate around neutral zones. Push in, pull out. Swim under the pink, towards some aerobatic link to mother earth. And still, we're not in orbit yet. Your dawning glow you blow into my lungs. Will you catch me if I blast away?
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Mar 1, 2023
Mar 1, 2023 at 12:28 PM UTC
99 Moons
one we're intertwined          in imagined concepts and we've got the same layout. some sections colored the same but we still look so different. two I feel like a story basket locked in a casket, avoiding spitting on graves. you're the foam at the bottom:            all I have left and I want more. I'm just a foam hound daddy,              a locked foam hawk. you open your face, intoxication pouring out. too much stimulation leads to lack of stimulation. three through my fingertips budding beneath my eye lids. I see what you're saying. translate what you're feeling through my skin. four slabs of meat for hands, place them on the stove. (I feel better with my head close to the oven). you've gotta soak in the seasons or they'll fry off so fast, it'll be all chew and no taste. all **** and no chase. I'm simmering let me marinate. five social stimulation starts simmering smoothly. six okay, I'll let my body make the decision when it remembers how to move. too much to touch and not enough to stay away.
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Mar 6, 2012
Mar 6, 2012 at 1:53 AM UTC
suggestive tendencies
Words are **** They make me want to rip a pillow with my teeth Or marinate in a sensuous heat. Where you'll be, sitting there. Waiting to kiss my spine and touch my hair. Tell me regaling tales of what you think. Of what is rational or obsolete. Worlds like *Suggestive, Sarcastic. Forlorn* and Bombastic. Makes my skin melt and heart palpitate. I will no longer settle for those who are adequate. I need substance. I need someone (you) to say. That you're enamored and beg me to stay. I want that learned passion that only we could portray.
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Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 2:06 AM UTC
Pedantic.
quanta is better understood outside of physics, on a grander scale - quantum is a quality suggestion that makes two (to, too) things auto-suggestive as pertaining in the matter - never mind - take the concept of quanta out of physics and you get a man readying himself for a controlled coma having his wisdom teeth removed, with the anaesθetician asking about the readers' digest, the patient replying quo vadis? / dokąd idziesz? then the great sleep plateau - 'where are you going?' puts any man off, whether boxer, or paediatrician - ****** lays dead floored for a minute, plays the dog game: play dead, tongue hanging ready for a guillotine. CHOP! and there goes the tail of a Doberman (jamnik / dachshund on stilts) and a ρoττł-                     y                     woo woo woo chim chimney                     cha cha cha ooh the rotting wail - rottweiler -                                                     -ειλερ; you never mention the u with the v due to the chisel ease, then again, you don't say double-o'h but say double u - too shay frowning at a shave; ****** i'll make your language my playground given all these post-colonial ***** aiming for a signature and credentials, this **** could pass the London brigade, but take it to York, it would be a massacre of a bureaucratic lapse of credentials... a viking invasion more-or-less; oh **** quantum physics, Charles Dickens and the Victorian Era - Jack the Ripper the antonym, both are the desired cages of energy requiring expression to make testimony that such an age existed, a particular congregate of expression, never universal, boxes and pockets, however much inside one is a question of your dietary requirement, quantum physics is better explained with history than hard science, and atoms, or the craze of subs, people need a bigger picture, not everyone own a ******* microscope or a telescope, teach quantum physics using history: Philippe Augustus of France mattered, at the Battle of Bouvines - Otto IV? not so much.
0
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 7:45 PM UTC
Doberman and a Dachshund on stilts
quanta is better understood outside of physics, on a grander scale - quantum is a quality suggestion that makes two (to, too) things auto-suggestive as pertaining in the matter - never mind - take the concept of quanta out of physics and you get a man readying himself for a controlled coma having his wisdom teeth removed, with the anaesθetician asking about the readers' digest, the patient replying quo vadis? / dokąd idziesz? then the great sleep plateau - 'where are you going?' puts any man off, whether boxer, or paediatrician - ****** lays dead floored for a minute, plays the dog game: play dead, tongue hanging ready for a guillotine. CHOP! and there goes the tail of a Doberman (jamnik / dachshund on stilts) and a ρoττł-                     y                     woo woo woo chim chimney                     cha cha cha ooh the rotting wail - rottweiler -                                                     -ειλερ; you never mention the u with the v due to the chisel ease, then again, you don't say double-o'h but say double u - too shay frowning at a shave; ****** i'll make your language my playground given all these post-colonial ***** aiming for a signature and credentials, this **** could pass the London brigade, but take it to York, it would be a massacre of a bureaucratic lapse of credentials... a viking invasion more-or-less; oh **** quantum physics, Charles Dickens and the Victorian Era - Jack the Ripper the antonym, both are the desired cages of energy requiring expression to make testimony that such an age existed, a particular congregate of expression, never universal, boxes and pockets, however much inside one is a question of your dietary requirement, quantum physics is better explained with history than hard science, and atoms, or the craze of subs, people need a bigger picture, not everyone own a ******* microscope or a telescope, teach quantum physics using history: Philippe Augustus of France mattered, at the Battle of Bouvines - Otto IV? not so much.
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50
~ *black tie, bare feet, a walk through dandelions, following the scent of wine and mirthful promise phosphenes and paresthesia —slow dazzle motif; the bluebird of happiness echoes in a shallow bay; pieces of places to claim as theirs: moth wings, flower petals, and blades of grass seduced by eventide, unhurried mouth(s), lips searching and soft, all words seem to have a few extra vowels; sudden ubiquity to collisions and slippages, cultivating suggestive shapes from aleatory arrays of objects and forms in the surf they mingle and link, emancipating adrenaline; they love like they were water for life* ~
0
Apr 17, 2023
Apr 17, 2023 at 5:11 PM UTC
They Were Wed By The Sea