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"swims" poems
I've witnessed a beauty I can't describe That speaks to my soul As it swims through my eyes The silent sounds Sneak into my mind The taste lingers on Leaving sweetness behind The scent creeps up To slowly remind Of the touch that once felt Makes all else fade Til only your beauty Pure beauty remains There's nothing else Your beauty remains
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Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 12:35 PM UTC
Beauty Remains
Orange, the perfect color for me. The odd one, the bright one. Fire is orange and I have fire in me. Orange is beautiful, I am too you see. Orange always manages to stand out, I too stand out,always wanting to fit in. A tear tickles my chin, as the thought of never to fit in swims in my mind. A friend is what I need, a friend in orange I always find. Because you see, orange is the color for me. Nothing will ever rhyme with orange, and nobody will ever choose me.
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Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 1:57 AM UTC
Orange
when i have thought of you somewhat too much and am become perfectly and simply Lustful….sense a gradual stir of beginning muscle,and what it will do to me before shutting….understand i love you….feel your suddenly body reach for me with a speed of white speech (the simple instant of perfect hunger Yes) how beautifully swims the fooling world in my huge blood, cracking brains A swiftlyenormous light —and furiously puzzling through,prismatic,whims, the chattering self perceives with hysterical fright a comic tadpole wriggling in delicious mud
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20.6k
When I Have Thought Of You Somewhat Too
Drowning in a cesspool of wishes Destiny swims no farther than fishes. Diligence seduces the tide, She elopes, makes her a bride. The singing bird sings, The humming bee stings. Inactivity kills the sweet dreamer but Also exalts not the lazy **** Puff your blunt, roll up your sleeves Kiss your tools, empty your sheaths Pray your hands grind the right mill, Your hustle will have you chill.
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Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 6:21 PM UTC
HUSTLE
I was listening to a poet reciting his poem “Times”. He was pondering, could it be like this and that? Suddenly my cup of tea happened to taste so sweet, made me wonder why wasn’t it such an edgy, a while ago any time before now just as tasty. Where on a stony thorn was it stuck this long? It had to bloom just now, so sweet a rose!   No one predicted whether it will rain or not, it just drops. The sun, shedding clouds, suddenly swims so low! Pondering me, I could then only digest it accepting a truth: It doesn’t matter when the bees love to come out, sit on the rose and fly. For the time, its best bard only sings on time!
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Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 7:48 PM UTC
A Timely Cup of Tea
My feet may be stuck on earth, but my mind is a realm of Eden: the heavens’ wonder. The sky is round, fits around the earth, with the sun swims in the dew on the rose. Still the giant earth falls short to hold onto a man for good! Not the sky nor the mundane can encompass a man, only fits within a man.
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May 15, 2017
May 15, 2017 at 11:27 PM UTC
Man and the Mind
It's a darkness that surrounds you. It covers your eyes, And swims in your ears. To keep you from seeing light, Or hearing laughter. Instead you see everything In a dull and dark way. Colors are no longer vibrant, And lines seem to be blurred. There is no more beauty in a sunset, Or majesty in the ocean. It's just water now. And every sound is muffled now. You can't differentiate your favorite song From any other anymore. The sound of laughter is more bitter than sweet. Every song is the same bleak humm. And laughter just makes me wish I was deaf. The darkness even dulls touch. A kiss doesn't make your heart beat fast anymore. And contact seems nauseating. A kiss is just a reminder That nothing good lasts. And most other interaction makes my skin crawl. But now the darkness is in your brain. In here, sometimes it's not dull at all. Sometimes the darkness Takes the shape of a monster. A monster that whispers terrible things And just gets louder when you try not to listen. Sometimes the darkness Feels like war inside your mind. But yes, again, the darkness is dull. Sometimes there is no monster, No war, And no yelling at all. Sometimes when the darkness gets in your mind, It becomes a silence. I can't make out a clear thought, Because all there is Is silence. The darkness takes the shape Of death. The silence, the nothingness of death. And it becomes part of you, Making your mind nothing but silence And nothingness. But the worst part about the darkness Is my inability to communicate its existence. I can't make anyone understand The many shapes it can take. How it can be torturous and loud But comfortable just the same. It's easy to talk about the monster, Because it's something foreign and Something present. But everything else, The dullness of senses And the silence it becomes, Can't be expressed. Because in these forms, The darkness is absence of life. It's absence of color, Sound, Touch, And thought. And it's so hard to paint a picture Of something that isn't even there. I can paint a picture of a monster With ****** teeth and devilish eyes. But I cannot paint the nothingness The darkness so often is. And to me, nothingness is the most dangerous. I can fight a monster. But I cannot fight nothing. Nothingness will swallow you. It will take over your senses And thoughts, And eventually will to live. Life is colorful. Life should be loud. Life should be funny. And sometimes painful. But when the silence, The nothingness arrives, There is no color. There is no sound. No laughter. Or even pain. There is no life at all.
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Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 3:45 AM UTC
Hello darkness my old friend
It's a darkness that surrounds you. It covers your eyes, And swims in your ears. To keep you from seeing light, Or hearing laughter. Instead you see everything In a dull and dark way. Colors are no longer vibrant, And lines seem to be blurred. There is no more beauty in a sunset, Or majesty in the ocean. It's just water now. And every sound is muffled now. You can't differentiate your favorite song From any other anymore. The sound of laughter is more bitter than sweet. Every song is the same bleak humm. And laughter just makes me wish I was deaf. The darkness even dulls touch. A kiss doesn't make your heart beat fast anymore. And contact seems nauseating. A kiss is just a reminder That nothing good lasts. And most other interaction makes my skin crawl. But now the darkness is in your brain. In here, sometimes it's not dull at all. Sometimes the darkness Takes the shape of a monster. A monster that whispers terrible things And just gets louder when you try not to listen. Sometimes the darkness Feels like war inside your mind. But yes, again, the darkness is dull. Sometimes there is no monster, No war, And no yelling at all. Sometimes when the darkness gets in your mind, It becomes a silence. I can't make out a clear thought, Because all there is Is silence. The darkness takes the shape Of death. The silence, the nothingness of death. And it becomes part of you, Making your mind nothing but silence And nothingness. But the worst part about the darkness Is my inability to communicate its existence. I can't make anyone understand The many shapes it can take. How it can be torturous and loud But comfortable just the same. It's easy to talk about the monster, Because it's something foreign and Something present. But everything else, The dullness of senses And the silence it becomes, Can't be expressed. Because in these forms, The darkness is absence of life. It's absence of color, Sound, Touch, And thought. And it's so hard to paint a picture Of something that isn't even there. I can paint a picture of a monster With ****** teeth and devilish eyes. But I cannot paint the nothingness The darkness so often is. And to me, nothingness is the most dangerous. I can fight a monster. But I cannot fight nothing. Nothingness will swallow you. It will take over your senses And thoughts, And eventually will to live. Life is colorful. Life should be loud. Life should be funny. And sometimes painful. But when the silence, The nothingness arrives, There is no color. There is no sound. No laughter. Or even pain. There is no life at all.
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90
I lie on my back at midnight hearing the marvelous strange chime of the clocks, and know it's mid- night and in that instant the whole world swims into sight for me in the form of beautiful swarm- ing m u t t a worlds- everything is happening, shining Buhudda-lands, bhuti blazing in faith, I know I'm forever right & all's I got to do (as I hear the ordinary extant voices of ladies talking in some kitchen at midnight oilcloth cups of cocoa cardore to mump the rinnegain in his darlin drain-) i will write it, all the talk of the world everywhere in this morning, leav- ing open parentheses sections for my own accompanying inner thoughts-with roars of me all brain-all world roaring-vibrating-I put it down, swiftly, 1,000 words (of pages) compressed into one second of time-I'll be long robed & long gold haired in the famous Greek afternoon of some Greek City Fame Immortal & they'll have to find me where they find the t h n u p f t of my shroud bags flying flag yagging Lucien Midnight back in their mouths-Gore Vidal'll be amazed, annoyed- my words'll be writ in gold & preserved in libraries like Finnegans Wake & Visions of Neal
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12.6k
Daydreams for Ginsberg
as my lover swims in the blue waters under the golden Sun the birds sing a song of love. she stands alone perfectly in a sea of pearls. the Sun rays shine upon on her milky skin. Neptune's kingdom was built for her
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Aug 19, 2019
Aug 19, 2019 at 5:13 AM UTC
As My Lover Swims
When he left my mother told me something. She said it's okay and this will pass He's nothing compared to you But as I laid there On my bedroom floor In the room where he claimed me Where little girl dreams were shattered I didn't believe her Instead I screamed about how I hated life How he left me like dust on my fingertips Like the ash of my burned down home Two weeks later and I'm a shell Of who I was Of who I am Of who I'll ever be My ribs poked out like piano keys Just waiting to be played And my collar bones Oh they were waiting like glasses Glasses expecting hard liquor That I of course drowned myself in The day her name left his lips I was done for I wanted to become nothing but earth and essence. But my best friend cradled me She promised I would find love again That this hurt, no matter how bad it is, Will only be temporary I didn't believe her So I rebelled against them all It was only me 4 months later and I'm sitting in the car My best friend sits beside me I'm genuinely laughing And she looks proud Then she tells me how he's talking about me. From my big black boots My infatuation with peaches To how I harbor guitar pics on every inch of my body. I relapse into him immediately I wanted him so bad 6 and a half months later and he tells my best friend That he hates me My name swims out of his mouth on a raft of profanities. But it didn't hurt as much as I thought I think I grew Little by little I became the new girl The one that writes again and breathes the air a little deeper than the others. 6 and half months plus 3 days I caress my fingers over my body The shower beats down on me "I want to be your friend" I whisper to myself. He was nothing but a thunderstorm But I am more than he I am the sun The moon The stars I am the heavens I am the thing everyone revels in And I made it through hell and back And now I can finally say goodbye
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Dec 4, 2017
Dec 4, 2017 at 11:15 AM UTC
Tales of a Universal Girl and a Thunderstorm Boy
When he left my mother told me something. She said it's okay and this will pass He's nothing compared to you But as I laid there On my bedroom floor In the room where he claimed me Where little girl dreams were shattered I didn't believe her Instead I screamed about how I hated life How he left me like dust on my fingertips Like the ash of my burned down home Two weeks later and I'm a shell Of who I was Of who I am Of who I'll ever be My ribs poked out like piano keys Just waiting to be played And my collar bones Oh they were waiting like glasses Glasses expecting hard liquor That I of course drowned myself in The day her name left his lips I was done for I wanted to become nothing but earth and essence. But my best friend cradled me She promised I would find love again That this hurt, no matter how bad it is, Will only be temporary I didn't believe her So I rebelled against them all It was only me 4 months later and I'm sitting in the car My best friend sits beside me I'm genuinely laughing And she looks proud Then she tells me how he's talking about me. From my big black boots My infatuation with peaches To how I harbor guitar pics on every inch of my body. I relapse into him immediately I wanted him so bad 6 and a half months later and he tells my best friend That he hates me My name swims out of his mouth on a raft of profanities. But it didn't hurt as much as I thought I think I grew Little by little I became the new girl The one that writes again and breathes the air a little deeper than the others. 6 and half months plus 3 days I caress my fingers over my body The shower beats down on me "I want to be your friend" I whisper to myself. He was nothing but a thunderstorm But I am more than he I am the sun The moon The stars I am the heavens I am the thing everyone revels in And I made it through hell and back And now I can finally say goodbye
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61
He was large as frogs go Fist-sized happy rotund dweller of backyard pond Garter snake large, too large with his ominous yellow stripes and jaws to take a larger than average mouthful Choked by abdomen's girth Legs drooling from his glut Before the victim's even hit his gut's digestive juices Kid with hockey stick makes him puck for his sin Frog makes  desperate slim swim for rocks Where he lies in recovery from shock and teeth marks on his belly Underdog gets defense from phone call-- Eve 150 miles away intercedes Frog gets mercy of a transport to another backwoods pond-- to find his life forgetting trauma Suns himself and swims Eats the bugs and ***** the froglettes of another day
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Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 8:39 PM UTC
Underdog Frog
There's a mermaid that waits under the sea, she waits in hope that a brave soul shall surrender to her and in doing so she'll rescue them in return and embrace them into her watery world. The sea belongs to The Mermaid, she's delved the underworld, lives for discovering and has left the surface for those that are not ready to meet her yet. Maybe it's part of her enchanting beauty that she is always so immersed in the intensity of the water, the darkening depths of the sea, her own emotions, the womb of her world giving sustenance. In my curiosity to go deep into the abyss I met The Mermaid and there she asked me to plunge to the depths of the sea with her. The water was no longer blue, the rays of the sun no longer illuminated, it was cold and dark and I knew that I could just about reach the surface of the waters again to leave, but I also knew I'd done that many times before. I begin to sink but apart of me still resists, my legs slightly kicking and my hands unsure as I struggle to know what to do. 'Let go' -I hear The Mermaid echo through the water, her patient voice holds me, I feel safe but still I'm in conflict with all that I'm confronted with above. My mind continued to battle here as my body naturally slipped down some more, the deeper under water I went the more everything felt still. I felt The Mermaid on the periphery, in a distant part of me I think she's always lived, I've just not been able to trust in her. Everything feels longer underwater, time isn't of importance once you've abandoned your anxious breath. you begin to feel apart of it all, as though you're a small ripple of an imperminant wave and an untameable current bound into One. This place feels like I've been here forever now, it's so cold it actually begins to feel warm. The deeper I allow myself to sink the less I seem to contemplate. The less I struggle to let go the more peaceful I feel and the deeper I slip into the unknown the closer I get to her. I soon reach the bottom, the deepest place I can go and here I meet her where I always knew I would; It's too dark to see so I wait in the unknown for her to show herself but she didn't appear outside of me, in fact she spoke through me and with my own inner voice I heard ...'If you do not connect to the depth of yourself then you'll never know how you really feel. Just as a Mermaid swims so deep she can no longer see.. You must swim too, even when It's dark and scary and you might not even know what you feel or you feel too much and you feel as though you're drowning.. You must trust. Trust in yourself beyond anything and you shall always find your treasure here... ...There's a Mermaid that waits under the sea, she waits in hope that you shall meet here and to see without having to see. <3
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May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 9:24 PM UTC
The Mermaid (Fantasy/Metaphorical)
There's a mermaid that waits under the sea, she waits in hope that a brave soul shall surrender to her and in doing so she'll rescue them in return and embrace them into her watery world. The sea belongs to The Mermaid, she's delved the underworld, lives for discovering and has left the surface for those that are not ready to meet her yet. Maybe it's part of her enchanting beauty that she is always so immersed in the intensity of the water, the darkening depths of the sea, her own emotions, the womb of her world giving sustenance. In my curiosity to go deep into the abyss I met The Mermaid and there she asked me to plunge to the depths of the sea with her. The water was no longer blue, the rays of the sun no longer illuminated, it was cold and dark and I knew that I could just about reach the surface of the waters again to leave, but I also knew I'd done that many times before. I begin to sink but apart of me still resists, my legs slightly kicking and my hands unsure as I struggle to know what to do. 'Let go' -I hear The Mermaid echo through the water, her patient voice holds me, I feel safe but still I'm in conflict with all that I'm confronted with above. My mind continued to battle here as my body naturally slipped down some more, the deeper under water I went the more everything felt still. I felt The Mermaid on the periphery, in a distant part of me I think she's always lived, I've just not been able to trust in her. Everything feels longer underwater, time isn't of importance once you've abandoned your anxious breath. you begin to feel apart of it all, as though you're a small ripple of an imperminant wave and an untameable current bound into One. This place feels like I've been here forever now, it's so cold it actually begins to feel warm. The deeper I allow myself to sink the less I seem to contemplate. The less I struggle to let go the more peaceful I feel and the deeper I slip into the unknown the closer I get to her. I soon reach the bottom, the deepest place I can go and here I meet her where I always knew I would; It's too dark to see so I wait in the unknown for her to show herself but she didn't appear outside of me, in fact she spoke through me and with my own inner voice I heard ...'If you do not connect to the depth of yourself then you'll never know how you really feel. Just as a Mermaid swims so deep she can no longer see.. You must swim too, even when It's dark and scary and you might not even know what you feel or you feel too much and you feel as though you're drowning.. You must trust. Trust in yourself beyond anything and you shall always find your treasure here... ...There's a Mermaid that waits under the sea, she waits in hope that you shall meet here and to see without having to see. <3
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25
shadows deepening snow topped indigo mountains flamingo pink skies camped by a glacial lake watching the end of the day a single ****** swims past its wake a thin silver line then a loon calls from far off and my heart disentangles as the universe floods in and washes away my pain in a deep ocean of stars bliss incandescent
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Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 11:34 AM UTC
Bliss
sunrise, sunset birds fly, land, and fret doctors mend, treat and heal write wake, write and feel. sunrise, sunset the fish swims while the parrot pecks, the bees nestle back into their hives as the moon lifts, and the sun dives. sunrise, sunset the diaries cease to forget when all go back to rest with the sunrise, sunset. so as the babies mumble and the children cry, the world lives and nature thrives. the mother yawns and resets with the sunrise and the sunset.
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May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 12:33 AM UTC
sunrise, sunset
In the mixing bowl thou hast perfected praise. Conforming to your mould, your flaky crust begins to rise. Steamy and buttery out of the oven, you make my life chill, when the morsel of butter enters the     blueberry canyon to have its fill Chemically inducing nirvana, a world in the eye of God, blueberry bursts of epic epicness down my throat you trod. In my stomach you swim, my friend. "It is not good for muffin to be alone," pop goes the cherry muffin to join you, and in swims a blueberry clone. Nom nom nom.
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Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 5:54 PM UTC
Ode to Blueberry Muffin
Your serene lips could liquefy petals of a rose With twigs on your spine Consuming my dreams as you lure me Stretching as the stars shine Tangled in the ocean breeze Beyond beautiful you steal my soul Our hands unify in the shade of the unknown Tonight we step beneath the flesh As the path of dust disappears I want to drink from your collar bone Every crevice I will endear Following the maze of your fantasy Impeccable skin inviting me in The anticipation intoxicates my desires As I travel your outline I stiffen for you Eager to gratify the valley of your liquid pearls You whimper as I dissolve your engorged delicacy As you spasm and tremble you ignite the evening air A Magnetic exuberance of fervor swept over me Our swollen, lustful lips surrender again As your majestic heart nurtures our love I famine to have your tongue renew me Your quivering hands beginning to stimulate me You brush against my hardness lightly I stir inside my stomach Restless and blazing I await Teasing the tip my luster rises As your manhood swims inside my mouth You swell my peaks, passionate yet tender You linger feeling my need Slipping into your enticing throat My fingers clutching your hips Connecting with my core as I absorb you I quiver and cry out loud With handfuls of starlight and luster We create a haven just for us You enter me so carefully As we wither and blend Our flesh is stamped together A serene ambiance is swaying with us As you whisper and writhe beneath me
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Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 11:08 AM UTC
Seductive Intimacy (Adult Content)
sundog—small and incomplete half-chode rainbow. light. at least once a week for the clever dreamer, the girls with no eyes, the men with small ******* there is fortune in the river—it swims away when I take you breath down to it in a bucket. and my hands quilt flawless wade of nighttime water. *where is the colored light? nowhere, sundog. nowhere.*
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Jun 23, 2017
Jun 23, 2017 at 12:31 PM UTC
small and incomplete
* * * Absorbing dust and Golden heat, living more openly than I do, he shimmies to Billie Holiday The year is not 1957, though he lives in a San Francisco fog longing to play the piano The time in not 11:57pm, though he orders a ***** martini & swims in the fishbowl bay Escaping to Telegraph Hill to drink moonlight jazz & vermouth he pretends to live Way back when * * *
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Nov 11, 2017
Nov 11, 2017 at 4:29 PM UTC
***** Martini
let go, brother let go of your forest your ocean spray your frantic manic tendencies the ability to wipe it all away lost somewhere in the wind let go of your rain let go of your shaky hands and hold your pencil straight with your teeth don’t fret, forest don’t burn, brother hold hold tight the hallucinations of what swims a polished stone skipping in one endless encephalon cycle fogged and fogged again the forest smokes and the rain to put it out wanes steam
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Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 4:37 PM UTC
nothing will die
Someday I'd like to wander free like butterfly, like bumblebee, perhaps to plant a willow tree beside the silent solemn sea, before these things exist no more, from mountain top to shifting shore, when, soon, bald eagles cease to soar and build their aeries nevermore, and fish forsake polluted streams (where sulfur swims and typhoid teems since no one really cares it seems) to die inside our toxic dreams while ice caps melt and winter steams, and all the air surrounding reeks as children choke, for no one speaks of fracking wells or oily leaks (Big Brother's silenced all critiques!), and rancid rains acidify so woods no longer multiply (for God so wills, we can't deny, which is, of course, our alibi). And as the deepest ocean fills with plastic bags, and garbage spills upon the plains, across the hills and turns to poison dust that kills wild dingo dogs and daffodils which sink in swamps’ forsaken swills, the mocking bird makes light and trills (midst waning wails of whippoorwills) "Behold the surreal scene that chills and greet the dread that death distills! You've had your day with all the frills that brought the flood and final ills that can't be cured with bitter pills nor yet undone with further thrills of profit gained that grinds and fills dead desert sands with dollar bills." EPILOGUE Though swaddled still in infancy, we feel we’ve reached our primacy (aloof, though preaching piously, disdaining deeds of decency) and have no need of augury. But in the pit of prophecy the crucial questions seem to be: “Is doom Earth’s fate, our destiny to twist in tides of agony destroying nature’s progeny with no return a certainty assured by death’s finality?” and ”Should we plant a willow tree to someday weep for you and me?”
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Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 2:45 PM UTC
A Willow Tree
Someday I'd like to wander free like butterfly, like bumblebee, perhaps to plant a willow tree beside the silent solemn sea, before these things exist no more, from mountain top to shifting shore, when, soon, bald eagles cease to soar and build their aeries nevermore, and fish forsake polluted streams (where sulfur swims and typhoid teems since no one really cares it seems) to die inside our toxic dreams while ice caps melt and winter steams, and all the air surrounding reeks as children choke, for no one speaks of fracking wells or oily leaks (Big Brother's silenced all critiques!), and rancid rains acidify so woods no longer multiply (for God so wills, we can't deny, which is, of course, our alibi). And as the deepest ocean fills with plastic bags, and garbage spills upon the plains, across the hills and turns to poison dust that kills wild dingo dogs and daffodils which sink in swamps’ forsaken swills, the mocking bird makes light and trills (midst waning wails of whippoorwills) "Behold the surreal scene that chills and greet the dread that death distills! You've had your day with all the frills that brought the flood and final ills that can't be cured with bitter pills nor yet undone with further thrills of profit gained that grinds and fills dead desert sands with dollar bills." EPILOGUE Though swaddled still in infancy, we feel we’ve reached our primacy (aloof, though preaching piously, disdaining deeds of decency) and have no need of augury. But in the pit of prophecy the crucial questions seem to be: “Is doom Earth’s fate, our destiny to twist in tides of agony destroying nature’s progeny with no return a certainty assured by death’s finality?” and ”Should we plant a willow tree to someday weep for you and me?”
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53
Come let’s squeeze in while the sphere’s moon-lit cheek turns her other sunny-cheek. Come let’s mingle in the splash   while the sunup basks in swims across the dewy green.   Come let’s try it again while we are alive and breathing   there is a time for everything. Come let’s be creative no ocean is deep while a pearl shines in the seashell. A handful of earth is wrapped in the midst of a colossal airy space,   there is still a wonder in ****** green!
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Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 10:38 AM UTC
****** Green
The greatest challenge my nature presents: Love is harder to find Hate is easier to find Within myself and others Is rejection different for me? Everybody seems to know the pain of being unwanted And idle threats and empty words are no stranger to rejection But when you say you'll **** me if you ever see me again The intention is clear The existence of my attraction Is grotesque beyond redemption I thought I loved you... When appreciation comes my way It's superficiality amuses me Because I know all that needs to happen Is breaking down the wall to my mind Or unlocking the door to my heart And those appreciators will transform into detractors Especially if the hideous leviathan approaches their vessel Not finding women gross frustrates me Because I have no reference point For why people hate me so much Which provides a reference point For why I hate myself so much It's difficult not to be dominated by this damnation But there's no way people could understand The daily subtle nuances Why should they? I don't constantly consider their lives either Even if someone tried to comprehend my life I'm not sure it's possible I've been here the whole time and I'm still massively perplexed I display my emotions Disgust I shroud my emotions Indifference I **** my emotions Hatred Is there no escape? Even with sanctuaries along the way Life feels like Everybody swims in the ocean While I'm resigned to my lonely oasis Is it possible to feel more alone than completely alone? Like a cockroach consigned to living under the refrigerator It gets so cold and dark down here I forage for crumbs only at night Mortally afraid of human contact For I know that the boot follows the light And why not? In a world where our priorities obstruct our compassion How much consideration should a real human show to a lowly maggot like me When they have to worry about paying the exterminator?
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Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 4:16 AM UTC
Loneliness
The greatest challenge my nature presents: Love is harder to find Hate is easier to find Within myself and others Is rejection different for me? Everybody seems to know the pain of being unwanted And idle threats and empty words are no stranger to rejection But when you say you'll **** me if you ever see me again The intention is clear The existence of my attraction Is grotesque beyond redemption I thought I loved you... When appreciation comes my way It's superficiality amuses me Because I know all that needs to happen Is breaking down the wall to my mind Or unlocking the door to my heart And those appreciators will transform into detractors Especially if the hideous leviathan approaches their vessel Not finding women gross frustrates me Because I have no reference point For why people hate me so much Which provides a reference point For why I hate myself so much It's difficult not to be dominated by this damnation But there's no way people could understand The daily subtle nuances Why should they? I don't constantly consider their lives either Even if someone tried to comprehend my life I'm not sure it's possible I've been here the whole time and I'm still massively perplexed I display my emotions Disgust I shroud my emotions Indifference I **** my emotions Hatred Is there no escape? Even with sanctuaries along the way Life feels like Everybody swims in the ocean While I'm resigned to my lonely oasis Is it possible to feel more alone than completely alone? Like a cockroach consigned to living under the refrigerator It gets so cold and dark down here I forage for crumbs only at night Mortally afraid of human contact For I know that the boot follows the light And why not? In a world where our priorities obstruct our compassion How much consideration should a real human show to a lowly maggot like me When they have to worry about paying the exterminator?
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54
We went through the motions Until all went motionless (The otter frollicked turning everything into a game of joy to being alive) Touch became accidental at best to our ways Once we could touch but now nothing more (The otter nipped at the turtle flipped about as it played) Words dripped from our tongues Heavy like molasses as the intent fades away (Down the grass the otter slides into the river Over and over like a little child) Reason lost to accusations , accusations took it's toll . Accusations took our time , creating false crime (I watch as the otter swims on it's way Dipping , diving to where I can't say) Now I sit in the darkness with full moon fever Wondering how could something turn so wrong that once was so right
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Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 8:20 PM UTC
Otter and Other