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"supports" poems
Obviously he's more successful cause everyone supports what he does And me I'm sitting here in jealousy and envy just cause because Be happy be happy cause you have everything you need While i sit here with jealousy envy and greed
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Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 10:06 AM UTC
Jealousy envy and greed
A Year ago, in the same date As A Stranger I entered this beautiful Garden Hp A Beautiful flower (Elsa) drags me with her pure heart Wise words (from wolf, Sir Poet,Jack, etc.) kept me to know the life’s secret Sweet buds (Smiriti, Aarvie,) enjoys me with their great writes Love Birds (Brandon &jane;) echoes me their beautiful rhythms My Beautiful Bros (ryn, Joe, pradip,spt, Mufiq) supports me and admires with their strong writes My Sweet sisters (Donna, pax, nimah, Vicki) fills my heart with their pure poems All my new friends (Eddie, patty, gray l, tropica, wepping willow, Mysterious , Jimmy, its gona make sense, packin heat ,Poetry journal,Dark n beautiful, Wilson, Rose, James, Margaux, Asim, etc) gave me beautiful space and spirits..
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Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 1:31 AM UTC
GRATITUDE !!
The soul of a shoe... It gets trampled on each day Yet it is there the next Its gets all the rough parts of life Yet it supports others For a shoe without a soul... Is nothing but a usless shell
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Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 2:54 PM UTC
The soul
Stages Of Feelings Goes Like Ice To Drop The Tears And Marrow Highly Supports My Own Vice At Very Last "A Word" To Swallow And Here Goes The Cycles Nice Then A Clip Drags My Faded morrow Stops The Ticks And Hide The Voice Digging Holes And Sparked Fallow Dark Goes And Dark Owns My face The Life Through An Eye Of A Crow Wild And Reckless Goes Your Dice Pull It Slow, Near The Fifth Toe Till Then Starts Your ***** Chase Still Death Goes In Me So Slow Here We Are, And Here We Go In Another Lie, Another Sorrow Here You Sell, And Someone Buys So Keep The Change With Thousad Lies ****** Bad In A Brutal Bridal Blade Mauling Her Metal In Such Daily Fail Does Flames Flesh's The Coupled Bud Take It Easy!, As Long You'll Sell It All Naive!, Cuts Her Finger In Every Raid To Skip But Delay The Inversed Sail That Way You Think It'll Make Me Sad It Will Sink Your Ship In Doors Of Hell Rain And Hail Goes Upon Your Head Mark My Words With One Last Smile Remember Them In Your Stupid Mood So You Save Your Self From These All Here We Are, And Here We Go In Another Lie, Another Sorrow Here You Sell, And Someone Buys So Keep The Change With Thousad Lies Author : Aladdin AURES H.
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Jul 3, 2019
Jul 3, 2019 at 11:04 AM UTC
****** Bad In A Brutal Bridal Blade!
1.) You have the most loving heart. Your warmth, your gentle touch that you personify without words. Melts the supports of my heart 2.) Eyes of deep blue, that ensnare me and leave me thoughtless. How they change into everglade greens, and mystical greys. They're beautiful 3.) Few laughs may be as pure as your quiet giggle. The mere sound gives me goosebumps and a funny feeling in my stomach. You're so freakin' adorable 4.)The curves of a semi-circle aren't nearly as perfect as yours. You've worked alot for the perfect body. I simply need to ask... How can you make something that's something that is already perfect better? 5.) Spontaneous, unexpected and surprising. You keep me on my feet, keep me entertained and make me enjoy every second with you. Who knows what I am to expect?! 6.) Once upon a time, there lived to fluffy bunnies, they decided to leave their little hole and go out on an adventure. A wolf came along and bit of the rabbits head and it bled to death Its so dark, and it leaves you wondering what to think. I love your dark side. It both terrifies and intrigues me 7.) You're so intellectual. I love some of the things you say and more importantly write! You have an amazing capacity for knowledge and wisdom and you use it well. It baffles me, some of the connections you make in your essays and assignments 8.) My love you illustrate a maturity that surpasses your years. Pertaining to your ability to be responsible and reliable if and when - not that I ever am - clearly am not able to be. I think you're the one looking after me. I'm the older one, who just happens to have an 8yr old inside them~ 9.) You smell amazing, but no. Seriously, you are in every way, shape or form. The most amazing, star studded, picture perfect, superbly sensational girl. I could ever have met. Yes, let the alliteration flow 10.) Because you're you, and you are mine
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Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 2:16 AM UTC
10 Reasons Why I Love "You"
1.) You have the most loving heart. Your warmth, your gentle touch that you personify without words. Melts the supports of my heart 2.) Eyes of deep blue, that ensnare me and leave me thoughtless. How they change into everglade greens, and mystical greys. They're beautiful 3.) Few laughs may be as pure as your quiet giggle. The mere sound gives me goosebumps and a funny feeling in my stomach. You're so freakin' adorable 4.)The curves of a semi-circle aren't nearly as perfect as yours. You've worked alot for the perfect body. I simply need to ask... How can you make something that's something that is already perfect better? 5.) Spontaneous, unexpected and surprising. You keep me on my feet, keep me entertained and make me enjoy every second with you. Who knows what I am to expect?! 6.) Once upon a time, there lived to fluffy bunnies, they decided to leave their little hole and go out on an adventure. A wolf came along and bit of the rabbits head and it bled to death Its so dark, and it leaves you wondering what to think. I love your dark side. It both terrifies and intrigues me 7.) You're so intellectual. I love some of the things you say and more importantly write! You have an amazing capacity for knowledge and wisdom and you use it well. It baffles me, some of the connections you make in your essays and assignments 8.) My love you illustrate a maturity that surpasses your years. Pertaining to your ability to be responsible and reliable if and when - not that I ever am - clearly am not able to be. I think you're the one looking after me. I'm the older one, who just happens to have an 8yr old inside them~ 9.) You smell amazing, but no. Seriously, you are in every way, shape or form. The most amazing, star studded, picture perfect, superbly sensational girl. I could ever have met. Yes, let the alliteration flow 10.) Because you're you, and you are mine
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10
Recovery, Initially, is about knowing;  Knowing that change is necessary, Accepting that your life is not where you want it to be,  About facing up to your fears and anxiety Then taking the first step eventually… When you, and you alone, feel you are ready. Recovery, Critically, demands pure honesty, requires the utmost integrity Most Especially, when confronting your past traumas, your history Though it may make you feel angry, sad and often times guilty This process is key if you really want to move on, to change truly.     Recovery, Truthfully, is far from easy,  It can be fraught with challenges, setbacks, difficulty. It can hurt physically and even worse emotionally, Testing your will power to the extremity. It takes great Strength, Courage and Bravery; Determination, Resilience, in the face of adversity Recovery, Thankfully, need not be a lonely journey, Though you alone must take ultimate responsibility. There are lots of supports out there happily; from good friends, family and in your community Though it can be hard to ask for help, understandably…Let not pride undermine your recovery. Recovery, Ultimately, is about getting where it is you want to be, about starting anew daily About achieving realistic goals you have set regularly, Learning from the process; what worked successfully Starting to believe in yourself gradually, Gaining an insight into what you are capable of ...potentially Finally, Recovery is for all, a lifelong journey, Guarding against ambivalence, relapse, constantly. Knowing that every day will, in reality,  pose real threats for you in your recovery But every day also presents an opportunity… to engage with, enjoy, your life more fully.
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May 19, 2023
May 19, 2023 at 12:59 PM UTC
Recovery....
Recovery, Initially, is about knowing;  Knowing that change is necessary, Accepting that your life is not where you want it to be,  About facing up to your fears and anxiety Then taking the first step eventually… When you, and you alone, feel you are ready. Recovery, Critically, demands pure honesty, requires the utmost integrity Most Especially, when confronting your past traumas, your history Though it may make you feel angry, sad and often times guilty This process is key if you really want to move on, to change truly.     Recovery, Truthfully, is far from easy,  It can be fraught with challenges, setbacks, difficulty. It can hurt physically and even worse emotionally, Testing your will power to the extremity. It takes great Strength, Courage and Bravery; Determination, Resilience, in the face of adversity Recovery, Thankfully, need not be a lonely journey, Though you alone must take ultimate responsibility. There are lots of supports out there happily; from good friends, family and in your community Though it can be hard to ask for help, understandably…Let not pride undermine your recovery. Recovery, Ultimately, is about getting where it is you want to be, about starting anew daily About achieving realistic goals you have set regularly, Learning from the process; what worked successfully Starting to believe in yourself gradually, Gaining an insight into what you are capable of ...potentially Finally, Recovery is for all, a lifelong journey, Guarding against ambivalence, relapse, constantly. Knowing that every day will, in reality,  pose real threats for you in your recovery But every day also presents an opportunity… to engage with, enjoy, your life more fully.
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19
#teamara As in the nub of the remains of crayola crayon that’s been used to color in so many smiling cartoon suns on a piece of paper- Her favorite color is yellow. And I don’t mean a wimpy *** pastel yellow or sometimes a pale yellow I mean her favorite color is bright *** yellow. Like Pikachu yellow. Like she’s almost nineteen but she’s still willing to play Gameboy Pokemon yellow. There’s something innocent yet corny kind of yellow about her. She’s beautiful like yellow jirasol petals She’s intricate as yellow thread woven in a Rasta Dom She’s yellow like gold and Africa She’s sweet like pineapples and delicate like daffodils I still don’t know why her favorite color is yellow Maybe it has to do with her fascination of Asian men… I mean! ...with the continent of Asia She thinks she’s more like pink Japanese cherry blossom trees in the summer But I know she’s truly yellow petals on Paolo Verde trees blowing in the wind spreading around Tucson A metaphor for her love She’s yellow like the color in the middle of my pride rainbow- She supports me She’s yellow like the big painted sun at the hospital with a big grin I wonder why nobody smiles at hospitals The place where life is easily given as taken Where we are reminded that our health is sometimes taken for granted Other than that great big yellow sun She is the only that radiates yellow and smiles In waiting rooms, she seems like she’s the calmest Even though she’s the only one going through surgery She’s so beautiful on the inside her body can’t even take it She doesn’t deserve scions or scalpels to even be considered touching her bronze skin I wish instead they would strip down the color yellow from my life And give it to her to make her smile so bright that even word “cancer” would cease to exist But still. Even through pain and hardships She still smiles. Not only is she yellow when she’s happy She tends to radiate yellow even when she’s gloomy When I’m upset, her aura has way of rubbing off on mine And I get insight to why her favorite color is yellow *** she’s the kind of yellow that represents strength She’s yellow like tall forts made from gold bars She’s yellow like flames that roll of her tongue when she spits fire She’s yellow like a crayola-crayon… except she can’t be broken From her, I’m learning That even when you’re hurting You can still shine bright like your favorite color.
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Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 3:55 PM UTC
yellow.
#teamara As in the nub of the remains of crayola crayon that’s been used to color in so many smiling cartoon suns on a piece of paper- Her favorite color is yellow. And I don’t mean a wimpy *** pastel yellow or sometimes a pale yellow I mean her favorite color is bright *** yellow. Like Pikachu yellow. Like she’s almost nineteen but she’s still willing to play Gameboy Pokemon yellow. There’s something innocent yet corny kind of yellow about her. She’s beautiful like yellow jirasol petals She’s intricate as yellow thread woven in a Rasta Dom She’s yellow like gold and Africa She’s sweet like pineapples and delicate like daffodils I still don’t know why her favorite color is yellow Maybe it has to do with her fascination of Asian men… I mean! ...with the continent of Asia She thinks she’s more like pink Japanese cherry blossom trees in the summer But I know she’s truly yellow petals on Paolo Verde trees blowing in the wind spreading around Tucson A metaphor for her love She’s yellow like the color in the middle of my pride rainbow- She supports me She’s yellow like the big painted sun at the hospital with a big grin I wonder why nobody smiles at hospitals The place where life is easily given as taken Where we are reminded that our health is sometimes taken for granted Other than that great big yellow sun She is the only that radiates yellow and smiles In waiting rooms, she seems like she’s the calmest Even though she’s the only one going through surgery She’s so beautiful on the inside her body can’t even take it She doesn’t deserve scions or scalpels to even be considered touching her bronze skin I wish instead they would strip down the color yellow from my life And give it to her to make her smile so bright that even word “cancer” would cease to exist But still. Even through pain and hardships She still smiles. Not only is she yellow when she’s happy She tends to radiate yellow even when she’s gloomy When I’m upset, her aura has way of rubbing off on mine And I get insight to why her favorite color is yellow *** she’s the kind of yellow that represents strength She’s yellow like tall forts made from gold bars She’s yellow like flames that roll of her tongue when she spits fire She’s yellow like a crayola-crayon… except she can’t be broken From her, I’m learning That even when you’re hurting You can still shine bright like your favorite color.
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43
Regret melts slow, dripping from the side. It feels like skin being tugged against, the impression left from my hand to yours. The anticipation of being patient burns and flickers, excitedly proud to be included. Your back, the wick that stands straight, slowly curving, stretching, releasing tension. Your legs wrapped in mine. If you were to blow too hard, the flame would whoosh, leaving nothing but a puddle. The people we were staring, looking at the mess. The rest of my strength supports your arch, the curled wick that's grown tired against my chest. No matter how you lay, I am comfortable in your wild stretch. Sleep surrounding both of us— I have your back, your heart. The crisp edges of your hair tangled On my head The smoke of desire soots and breathes, dried in a puddle of wax
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Jan 17, 2025
Jan 17, 2025 at 9:13 PM UTC
Puddle of Wax
There are categories.... Positive: Narcissists think they are better than others. Inflated: Narcissists' views tend to be contrary to reality. In measures that compare self-report to objective measures, narcissists' self-views tend to be greatly exaggerated. Agentic: Narcissists’ views tend to be most exaggerated in the agentic domain, relative to the communion domain. Special: Narcissists perceive themselves to be unique and special people. Selfish: Research upon narcissists’ behaviour in resource dilemmas supports the case for narcissists as being selfish. Oriented towards success: Narcissists are oriented towards success by being, for example, approach oriented.
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Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 4:04 AM UTC
I Am A Narcissist
Barack Obama Is a fork tongued devil Who supports abortions And homosexual marriage The Lord said His hand of judgement will come Against the U.S. The first devastation will hit There will be another right on its heels A series of devastating events Look to the skies---- (nuke) Look to the seas---(tsunami) Look to the earth---(earthquake) People being killed with guns Marshall Law The United States will fall Because of its wickedness The U.S. will decrease And Israel will increase It will happen These things will happen before His return The sword will be the nuclear war Drought from no rains Pestilence new strain of disease 5 year war Then famine Fill up storehouses Landscape of America will change Waterways will become poisonous Sun will emit flashes of radiation His hand is on the weather (Hand of the Lord) Ocean will come as far as the Rockies Geological plates will shift Russians will attack infrastructure Of the nation A nation of lies Darkness will overcome A deep darkness will cover The people Because they love the lies The Lord said to her, "Do not despair my children Out of the darkness Comes the glorious light." There will be Cities of refuge For those who know Him Intimately There will be a city of refuge Stay close and He will instruct you
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Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
Dr. Patricia Green Receives Word From The Lord (Yaweh Will Destroy America)
All are architects of Fate, Working in these walls of Time; Some with massive deeds and great, Some with ornaments of rhyme. Nothing useless is, or low; Each thing in its place is best; And what seems but idle show Strengthens and supports the rest. For the structure that we raise, Time is with materials filled; Our to-days and yesterdays Are the blocks with which we build. Truly shape and fashion these; Leave no yawning gaps between; Think not, because no man sees, Such things will remain unseen. In the elder days of Art, Builders wrought with greatest care Each minute and unseen part; For the Gods see everywhere. Let us do out work as well, Both the unseen and the seen; Make the house, where Gods may dwell, Beautiful, entire, and clean. Else our lives are incomplete, Standing in these walls of Time, Broken stairways, where the feet Stumble as they seek to climb. Build to-day, then, strong and sure, With a firm and ample base; And ascending and secure Shall to-morrow find its place. Thus alone can we attain To those turrets, where the eye Sees the world as one vast plain, And one boundless reach of sky.
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5.6k
The Builders
Love doesn't aim to control or curb or force...rather it encourages, supports and persuades..if it does the former...then it isn't and cannot be love.
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Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 1:24 PM UTC
Quotes 235
Can't seem to stop it. Keeps Flowing This gushing salt water, these quick uneven breaths I take like I am drowning and I'm just trying to get enough oxygen, maybe if I could stop the shaking, maybe if I had a nice clear nose, I could have laughed. But I didn't. Can't seem to stop it. Keeps flowing. I lay here on the concrete, and I cannot even see straight, let alone think straight. Can't seem to stop it. Keeps flowing. I cannot conclude on whether these are happy fantasies, sad fragments of memories, or a mixture of the two that is making me feel this way. Can't seem to stop it. Keeps flowing. The concrete that supports my convulsing body is soaked. Every time I try to stand, I hear a loud crack, and find myself cuddling with the concrete once again. Somehow it stopped. No more gushing salt water. I still lie here with my silent, piercing cries. With my writhing body. With my nose and its trickling stream. I must not have any water left to let cascade onto the floor. But for some reason, I cannot disjoin myself from this cold floor. Cannot stand up. Once I finally build up the courage, something shoots me down again and again.
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May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 5:19 AM UTC
Tears
When I was a child, I thought, Casually, that solitude Never needed to be sought. Something everybody had, Like nakedness, it lay at hand, Not specially right or specially wrong, A plentiful and obvious thing Not at all hard to understand. Then, after twenty, it became At once more difficult to get And more desired - though all the same More undesirable; for what You are alone has, to achieve The rank of fact, to be expressed In terms of others, or it's just A compensating make-believe. Much better stay in company! To love you must have someone else, Giving requires a legatee, Good neighbours need whole parishfuls Of folk to do it on - in short, Our virtues are all social; if, Deprived of solitude, you chafe, It's clear you're not the virtuous sort. Viciously, then, I lock my door. The gas-fire breathes. The wind outside Ushers in evening rain. Once more Uncontradicting solitude Supports me on its giant palm; And like a sea-anemone Or simple snail, there cautiously Unfolds, emerges, what I am.
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4.9k
Best Society
They say a daughter reflects what her mother is. I say, no! I'm not my mother. She sees the best in everyone, I assume worst. She holds scars but smiles outside, I scream about pain. She loves and supports everyone at any cost, I disappoint people around me. Somebody put her in worst of situations, she remains kind, I take vengeance and hurt myself even more. There are Angels God puts on this Earth, I've one. I call her mama, On my name & life , I can't even stand the shadow of her.
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Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 6:50 AM UTC
I'm not my mother!
At the end of the pier you could look out to sea Listening to the swell flap on the rusty cast iron Of geometrical supports. Barnacles clung, sealed like gold nuggets And in the distance the slow **** of a tanker. The wind would whisk around the terminal Throwing hair to the sky Floating chandelier skirts tipped Revealing best underwear. And the clock sang its time to the birds. Over both sides were fishing rod rows Their owners sitting on canvas stools Above seagulls nibbled the air for food scraps And beneath strong swimmers bobbed Watching children skim pebbles in the waves. Love Mary xxxx
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Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 10:34 AM UTC
Totland Pier
Heartstone is a reflection in music on a ‘lost’ poem. The poem described in its two short verses a summer’s day, a landscape, a fossil found and placed in the palm of a child’s hand. The poem inspired a seven-movement work for wind, brass and percussion with solo piano. Here is its poetic programme note. Chert The piano draws an arc of rhythm rising then falling. Above two choirs of wind and brass exclaim, fanfare, mark out shorter, determined gestures of sound. The procession, almost a march, becomes a dance. Alone Two choirs of wind and brass become four couples whose music weaves from complexity a simplicity: Chromatic to Pentatonic twelve becoming five. Prase Four stopped horns, five extended tonalities. Together they wander a maze of Pentatonic paths; alone, and in pairs, as a quartet they discover within a measured harmonic rhythm. Tension: resolution . . . and surrounding their every move the piano insists an obligato, a continuum of phrases, absorbing into itself the warp and weft of horn tone. Sard Oscillating in perpetual motion the full ensemble occupies a frame of time and space. Flutes, reeds, double-reeds brass, piano, percussion mirror-fold on mirror-fold layer upon layer overlapping. Yarns of threaded sound. Tuff Without a break the mirrored oscillations patter pentatonics on tuned percussion of marimba and vibraphone whilst a batterie of drums lays down shards of beaten rhythm against this onward folding of tonality change. In the background a choir of winds flutes and single reeds waymark this recursive journey gathering together cadential moments and the necessary pause for breath. Marl Relentlessly, the motion is sustained, piano-driven, a syncopated continuo, rhythm-sectioned amidst layers of percussion. Adding edge, a choir of brass and double reeds amplify the piano’s jagged rhythms providing impetus for phrases to become longer and longer, ratching up the tension, ever-denying closure until the batterie delivers a conclusive flourish. Paramoudra Pulse-figures of winds. Motific cells of brass. Both negotiate a stream of fractal-shaped tonality expanding: contracting. A blossom of fanfares folding into pulsating layers of tuned percussion, flutes and reeds. A dance-like episode absorbs a chorale. Four horns in close harmony against the continuing dance. A duet of differences flows into a cascade of chords in closed and open forms. The piano supports brass-flourishing figures before a final stillness. Heartstone In gentle reflection the solitary piano – a figure in a landscape of collapsed harmonic forms - presents in slow procession the essence of previous music.
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Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 12:41 PM UTC
Heartstone
Heartstone is a reflection in music on a ‘lost’ poem. The poem described in its two short verses a summer’s day, a landscape, a fossil found and placed in the palm of a child’s hand. The poem inspired a seven-movement work for wind, brass and percussion with solo piano. Here is its poetic programme note. Chert The piano draws an arc of rhythm rising then falling. Above two choirs of wind and brass exclaim, fanfare, mark out shorter, determined gestures of sound. The procession, almost a march, becomes a dance. Alone Two choirs of wind and brass become four couples whose music weaves from complexity a simplicity: Chromatic to Pentatonic twelve becoming five. Prase Four stopped horns, five extended tonalities. Together they wander a maze of Pentatonic paths; alone, and in pairs, as a quartet they discover within a measured harmonic rhythm. Tension: resolution . . . and surrounding their every move the piano insists an obligato, a continuum of phrases, absorbing into itself the warp and weft of horn tone. Sard Oscillating in perpetual motion the full ensemble occupies a frame of time and space. Flutes, reeds, double-reeds brass, piano, percussion mirror-fold on mirror-fold layer upon layer overlapping. Yarns of threaded sound. Tuff Without a break the mirrored oscillations patter pentatonics on tuned percussion of marimba and vibraphone whilst a batterie of drums lays down shards of beaten rhythm against this onward folding of tonality change. In the background a choir of winds flutes and single reeds waymark this recursive journey gathering together cadential moments and the necessary pause for breath. Marl Relentlessly, the motion is sustained, piano-driven, a syncopated continuo, rhythm-sectioned amidst layers of percussion. Adding edge, a choir of brass and double reeds amplify the piano’s jagged rhythms providing impetus for phrases to become longer and longer, ratching up the tension, ever-denying closure until the batterie delivers a conclusive flourish. Paramoudra Pulse-figures of winds. Motific cells of brass. Both negotiate a stream of fractal-shaped tonality expanding: contracting. A blossom of fanfares folding into pulsating layers of tuned percussion, flutes and reeds. A dance-like episode absorbs a chorale. Four horns in close harmony against the continuing dance. A duet of differences flows into a cascade of chords in closed and open forms. The piano supports brass-flourishing figures before a final stillness. Heartstone In gentle reflection the solitary piano – a figure in a landscape of collapsed harmonic forms - presents in slow procession the essence of previous music.
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112
A man Takes care of his gal. A man Takes a stand and fights down and out. A man Supports his babies and wife. A man Does what's needed,the protector of what's right. A man Kisses his girl on her head. A man Brings flowers no matter living or dead. A man Can listen and not just hear my tone. A man Makes me warm, not freeze me to the bone. A man Is always here, never leaving me alone. A man Is noone here, I'm Waiting By The Phone
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Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 1:46 PM UTC
A real man i hope, maby so one day
As the gods began one world, and man another, So the snakecharmer begins a snaky sphere With moon-eye, mouth-pipe, He pipes. Pipes green. Pipes water. Pipes water green until green waters waver With reedy lengths and necks and undulatings. And as his notes twine green, the green river Shapes its images around his sons. He pipes a place to stand on, but no rocks, No floor: a wave of flickering grass tongues Supports his foot. He pipes a world of snakes, Of sways and coilings, from the snake-rooted bottom Of his mind. And now nothing but snakes Is visible. The snake-scales have become Leaf, become eyelid; snake-bodies, bough, breast Of tree and human. And he within this snakedom Rules the writhings which make manifest His snakehood and his might with pliant tunes From his thin pipe. Out of this green nest As out of Eden's navel twist the lines Of snaky generations: let there be snakes! And snakes there were, are, will be--till yawns Consume this pipe and he tires of music And pipes the world back to the simple fabric Of snake-warp, snake-weft. Pipes the cloth of snakes To a melting of green waters, till no snake Shows its head, and those green waters back to Water, to green, to nothing like a snake. Puts up his pipe, and lids his moony eye.
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3.8k
Snakecharmer
When I say she's my rock, to the people I meet For some reason they all, seem to think that that's sweet. But no she is not, my foundation of stone, Who supports and holds me, when I feel alone. She isn't the constant, that keeps me sane Because it's been a long time, and that girl she did change. No for I am Sisyphus, and this much is true, I'll never make things work with you. But I am Sisyphus, it's what I do, And I'm in love, with trying to
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Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 4:14 AM UTC
She is my rock.
Fiery soul with emerald eyes, Listen close to my words and what therein lies Dear sweet thing with dancing sliver hues A stormy grey or seeping blue There's nothing more I need than both of you. So I'll tell you now, I cannot choose And my dear lover supports, approves Soft uncertain smile, now please don't shy Listen close to my words and what therein lies As for the large bubbly boy holding my hand Intimidation is not his plan I would only love one if I found I can Instead I want to be you gentleman So I'll approach this gently then Long-full boy, wishful sighs Listen close to my words and what therein lies Because I love you both and hope you'll love me I want to write a love song for three Please listen closed And do respond, darling It's for my love of you both I'll sing
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Feb 24, 2021
Feb 24, 2021 at 5:45 PM UTC
One, Two, three?
At the end, The curtain opens & collapses down Cast steps forward and bows Nervously waiting for the raw applause of its long lost Love To be seen in flesh, in form. To feel To be alive And what hope there is in this pause. And by God's great glory, simplicity, and the logic that supports it that reveals what we are, all of us together. Curtain down, we bow. And receive fully the divine applause of our creator to be- to be seen, heads hanging together is enough for him to rejoice. And his rejoicing song lifts our faces to be truly, fully revealed All we are, our mistakes + our triumphs, standing strong together The purpose of our being. To be revealed, humbled and uplifted in truth. And to let the light of his applause wash over us As we all bow down together.
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Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 12:20 PM UTC
Mission
If you are having sleepless nights, blame it on calcium deficiency as a key calcium channel has been identified as responsible for deep sleep, says new study. The study also gives us a clue to understanding both normal and abnormal waking brain functions. "It is the same brain, same neurons and similar requirements for oxygen and so on. So what is the difference between these two states?" asked Rodolfo Llinas, a professor of neuroscience at New York University School of Medicine and a Whitman Center Investigator at the Marine Biological Laboratory (MBL) in Woods Hole. To tackle the broad question of sleep, Llinas and his colleagues focused on one crucial part of the puzzle in mice, Marine Biological Laboratory. Calcium channels, selective gates in neuron walls, are integral in neuron firing, ensuring that all parts of the brain keep talking to one other. But during sleep, calcium channel activity is increased, keeping a slow rhythm that is different from patterns found during wakefulness. Based on this clue, the scientists removed one type of calcium channel, Cav3.1, and looked at how the absence of that channel's activity affected mouse brain function. This calcium channel turns out to be a key player in normal sleep. The mice without working Cav3.1 calcium channels took longer to fall asleep than normal mice, and stayed asleep for much shorter periods. Their brain activity was also abnormal, more like normal wakefulness than sleep. Most importantly, these mice never reached deep, slow-wave sleep. "This means that we have discovered that Cav3.1 is the channel that ultimately supports deep sleep," Llinas said. Because these mice completely lack the ability to sleep deeply, they eventually express a syndrome similar to psychiatric disorders in humans.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/green-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/yellow-formal-dresses
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Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 12:46 AM UTC
Calcium is essential for deep sleep: Study
If you are having sleepless nights, blame it on calcium deficiency as a key calcium channel has been identified as responsible for deep sleep, says new study. The study also gives us a clue to understanding both normal and abnormal waking brain functions. "It is the same brain, same neurons and similar requirements for oxygen and so on. So what is the difference between these two states?" asked Rodolfo Llinas, a professor of neuroscience at New York University School of Medicine and a Whitman Center Investigator at the Marine Biological Laboratory (MBL) in Woods Hole. To tackle the broad question of sleep, Llinas and his colleagues focused on one crucial part of the puzzle in mice, Marine Biological Laboratory. Calcium channels, selective gates in neuron walls, are integral in neuron firing, ensuring that all parts of the brain keep talking to one other. But during sleep, calcium channel activity is increased, keeping a slow rhythm that is different from patterns found during wakefulness. Based on this clue, the scientists removed one type of calcium channel, Cav3.1, and looked at how the absence of that channel's activity affected mouse brain function. This calcium channel turns out to be a key player in normal sleep. The mice without working Cav3.1 calcium channels took longer to fall asleep than normal mice, and stayed asleep for much shorter periods. Their brain activity was also abnormal, more like normal wakefulness than sleep. Most importantly, these mice never reached deep, slow-wave sleep. "This means that we have discovered that Cav3.1 is the channel that ultimately supports deep sleep," Llinas said. Because these mice completely lack the ability to sleep deeply, they eventually express a syndrome similar to psychiatric disorders in humans.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/green-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/yellow-formal-dresses
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Look at us, I'm carrying a basket made of trash and you're carrying a mouse, well the dog chewed up your glasses but you're still rockin it you have a single drop of coffee on your nose, we're ready to go to D.C. I had another where-are-we moment, it was fun. Good, that's downtown Baltimore right there, ****** capital of the world.   An elaborate mural graffiti. Wall after brick wall. A rustbelt city like Grand Rapids Detroit Cincinnati. Did you sleep well? Yes I woke up feeling like a clam in a cocoon. A sea creature inside of a forest insect, okay. I've wasted too much time on both desire and regret. Yellow bridge. Blue-green supports. Singer on the radio saying, we're young right now. There's a healthy and an unhealthy way of dealing with pain, I'm sorry for my selfish behavior in the islands. I want to go back and leave a better legacy. 'Word.' Last night to come see you I drove I-95 N, the overpass and though the rest of the city was really moving I was all alone up there, it was like driving in the sky. We pass signs saying: Icy Conditions: bridges and ramps freeze first. And a billboard: Learning Kick Flips Takes Work, So Does College We listen to our favorite island song: love the islands, love the islands, oh. You look like a rasta snowboarder girl There's something really right about having you in this car
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Mar 26, 2013
Mar 26, 2013 at 1:31 PM UTC
Coconut Baltimore