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"synchronously" poems
and there i am in the midst of it all, conscious of what appears to be existent, yet knowing it is illusory.  and if time is occurring synchronously then how can i look back with contrition?  for if i have the capacity to move backwards and forwards in quantum leaps, i can erase the past like pastel chalk on an antique blackboard, then start anew.  is not the sky my canvas and the arc of the rainbow my palette?  and the stars in lustrous luminosity light my way so that ev’n at dusk I can paint.  yet pain ne’er ceases to hollow me out.  then through a barren vessel i catch more rain, and pour it out upon the parched terrain.  just when i thought enlightenment was nigh, a sharp edge is discovered.  must it necessitate additional sandpapering from the wind?  when will the gemstone sparkle without further pressure?  does it lie in its power to simply shimmer sans duress?  perhaps it was dazzling at its inception, relinquishing its luster upon domestication.  with this proviso, as it nears twilight i shall tarry and blend with the night.  i’ll dance with a moonbeam knowing the jewel will glisten afresh upon the rise of the golden sun. @2016janetaylor
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May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 11:37 AM UTC
nearing twilight
The curves of our bodies, intricately designed, Echo the same thoughts, synchronously aligned.
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Aug 5, 2024
Aug 5, 2024 at 11:30 PM UTC
Echo
​Your body Is my pilgrimage Of worship A place Where my hands reach to Offer absolutions I use my silvery tongue To get you around the bend And tell you that your flesh Blesses mine, with a stain That’s more than just skin deep So I press my heart against yours Waiting for the two drums To beat as one I press my mouth against yours And eat the words That died upon your lips My mouth traces Every inch of your skin and bones Until my hunger is satiated A sliver of the midnight moon Bathes us while we Tangle ourselves deeper into one another Every heavy breath, a sonnet Every bite, an ode Every moan, those three tired words The air is heavy With the scent of old perfume While our two bodies talk The burden on my hands, absolves The stars in the sky, dissolves And the argument our bodies have, resolves As we bloom synchronously
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May 19, 2017
May 19, 2017 at 2:14 PM UTC
Synchronous Bloom
I wanted to cry and be a man synchronously. She takes me heart Smashes it into b.i.t.s I wanted to laugh and throw tantrums simultaneously She hands it back with a grin Ugly art stitches cover my heart. True love is not for the faint hearted There, are me fugly stitches in her heart The force is with us. So are cookies at the darkside.
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Oct 24, 2015
Oct 24, 2015 at 3:25 PM UTC
What her "Hello" did to me
It’s been said that infatuation makes for a fast spiral down to sightlessness.  But do you say the blind cannot see? I bear no mind to mere optics for I need not the sense to possess the sight. I have your radiance with me, branded to the backs of my lids for I cannot help but have you always until the next time I look upon you. With a clutch of my hand you have me at your will. You present this present with your presence and I shall honor this with my eyes, never to shield whilst I have you before me. Consumed I become as you lay me down beneath the leaves. Take all you will from me for I shall remain exposed to your desires. My gaze wandered up and found the leaves on fire. There was no smoke; there was no fear for we had been the fire all along. The flames of yours and mine together had consumed the air of our yesterdays, leaving nothing to look back on and ceasing the urge to look forward; we were here, existent, ready to ignite once more. This surge required naught save for the breaths of yours and mine to chance; your breath compelling this sealed backdraft longing for indulgence, growing wild with every touch, every scent, every taste of your delicate tongue as it wrapped in mine. The embers knew nothing of destruction but rather renewal of that which I had longed for. I once believed it foolish to feel the same with another synchronously. A belief I now find fault in for just as the two flames who dance incoherently; once they touch they become unified in their brilliant engagement, creating a distinct cohesion that most will undoubtedly remain unaware to. It is that moment, that paradise we search for. A sensation that last a moment but for those without sight, a single moment becomes the ultimate reality of eternity; a single slice in our whole of existence which we stay hungry for. So look no further for I am close at hand. We have already set this world ablaze and altered the realm of our tomorrows. It is now, in this very moment where we shall get a taste of eternity and there will never be anyone more adequate to share this paradise with other than that who makes me sightless.
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May 2, 2013
May 2, 2013 at 8:13 PM UTC
Flames of Eternity
It’s been said that infatuation makes for a fast spiral down to sightlessness.  But do you say the blind cannot see? I bear no mind to mere optics for I need not the sense to possess the sight. I have your radiance with me, branded to the backs of my lids for I cannot help but have you always until the next time I look upon you. With a clutch of my hand you have me at your will. You present this present with your presence and I shall honor this with my eyes, never to shield whilst I have you before me. Consumed I become as you lay me down beneath the leaves. Take all you will from me for I shall remain exposed to your desires. My gaze wandered up and found the leaves on fire. There was no smoke; there was no fear for we had been the fire all along. The flames of yours and mine together had consumed the air of our yesterdays, leaving nothing to look back on and ceasing the urge to look forward; we were here, existent, ready to ignite once more. This surge required naught save for the breaths of yours and mine to chance; your breath compelling this sealed backdraft longing for indulgence, growing wild with every touch, every scent, every taste of your delicate tongue as it wrapped in mine. The embers knew nothing of destruction but rather renewal of that which I had longed for. I once believed it foolish to feel the same with another synchronously. A belief I now find fault in for just as the two flames who dance incoherently; once they touch they become unified in their brilliant engagement, creating a distinct cohesion that most will undoubtedly remain unaware to. It is that moment, that paradise we search for. A sensation that last a moment but for those without sight, a single moment becomes the ultimate reality of eternity; a single slice in our whole of existence which we stay hungry for. So look no further for I am close at hand. We have already set this world ablaze and altered the realm of our tomorrows. It is now, in this very moment where we shall get a taste of eternity and there will never be anyone more adequate to share this paradise with other than that who makes me sightless.
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37
You have walked down the path of soul-searching for far too long my dear woman You have thereupon tasted sin in that of poisonous water And in that of the flesh of men And in that of the flesh of women And in that of tears of whom gave birth to you And in that of disappointment you have caused to the only man you have so much loved Now my dear, Tell me What is it that you found? ~ I have not find But I have only learned That it is about time I get to know You ~ I have known you since you were sleeping Silently and unagitated to what there is to life And that was when you were in the womb of your mother Its warmth enveloped your paper-thin skin And her heart was beating synchronously to yours And both of your soul and body coexisted When you left the comfort of the greatest And the warmest thing of motherhood You came into the world crying Your skin red Your lips the contrasting colour White as the cleanest sheet You now existed at and on your own body Small—but bold and vulnerable Like that of the most expensive glass You cried Because you are on your own When you grow I have known you even better Closer but farther So dear and so true I am not watching you I am rooting for you ~ I have sinned but I have learned I have cried and I have hurt I have taught and be taught I have lost only to be found The second I kneeled Upon the heat of the thick but delicate sheet I have remembered That none of the things in this existing life Belongs to me But are rather given to me I have been missing You for far too long.
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Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 7:19 AM UTC
On Praying
You have walked down the path of soul-searching for far too long my dear woman You have thereupon tasted sin in that of poisonous water And in that of the flesh of men And in that of the flesh of women And in that of tears of whom gave birth to you And in that of disappointment you have caused to the only man you have so much loved Now my dear, Tell me What is it that you found? ~ I have not find But I have only learned That it is about time I get to know You ~ I have known you since you were sleeping Silently and unagitated to what there is to life And that was when you were in the womb of your mother Its warmth enveloped your paper-thin skin And her heart was beating synchronously to yours And both of your soul and body coexisted When you left the comfort of the greatest And the warmest thing of motherhood You came into the world crying Your skin red Your lips the contrasting colour White as the cleanest sheet You now existed at and on your own body Small—but bold and vulnerable Like that of the most expensive glass You cried Because you are on your own When you grow I have known you even better Closer but farther So dear and so true I am not watching you I am rooting for you ~ I have sinned but I have learned I have cried and I have hurt I have taught and be taught I have lost only to be found The second I kneeled Upon the heat of the thick but delicate sheet I have remembered That none of the things in this existing life Belongs to me But are rather given to me I have been missing You for far too long.
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50
A sudden surge tears through the underbrush A tumbling tackle of growling fur A cornered coyote attacked by my two dogs I stand and watch Like it's some nature show More horrible in real life Strange how long it takes A good twenty minutes They must edit those shows He is wounded, wants only to escape My dogs refuse, synchronously circle One hundred and eighty degrees apart He knows nothing of degrees He cannot watch them both So always, one unseen Dives in to wound him more Unlike him, I can - Watch the whole show From a safe distance I do Twenty minutes is an eternity Death does not come easy There are breaks Like rounds in a prize fight A minute or two for everyone to rest He lies there in the middle My dogs nearby Everyone relaxed and panting Like friends on a hot afternoon Perhaps they’ll let him go He tries but, no. They continue the carnage He inflicts a few wounds of his own But the outcome is now becoming clear Knowing this, he whines and begs Like a pup crying for his mother My dogs do not care I keep watching Finally it’s over He lies there, mouth wide open Showing his beautiful white teeth Eyes wide open, showing what I have no wish to see again His life flashing before his eyes And mine The whole time, I just stood there Did nothing to assist the **** or stop the violence Remained on the safe sidelines A ****** of violence Only when it's safe do I approach I take his picture What was it the aborigines said? “No pictures - Your pictures steal our soul” But I insist I take the pictures I steal the souls His and mine Cliff Perkins September 13, 2016
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Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 11:05 AM UTC
Coyote
A sudden surge tears through the underbrush A tumbling tackle of growling fur A cornered coyote attacked by my two dogs I stand and watch Like it's some nature show More horrible in real life Strange how long it takes A good twenty minutes They must edit those shows He is wounded, wants only to escape My dogs refuse, synchronously circle One hundred and eighty degrees apart He knows nothing of degrees He cannot watch them both So always, one unseen Dives in to wound him more Unlike him, I can - Watch the whole show From a safe distance I do Twenty minutes is an eternity Death does not come easy There are breaks Like rounds in a prize fight A minute or two for everyone to rest He lies there in the middle My dogs nearby Everyone relaxed and panting Like friends on a hot afternoon Perhaps they’ll let him go He tries but, no. They continue the carnage He inflicts a few wounds of his own But the outcome is now becoming clear Knowing this, he whines and begs Like a pup crying for his mother My dogs do not care I keep watching Finally it’s over He lies there, mouth wide open Showing his beautiful white teeth Eyes wide open, showing what I have no wish to see again His life flashing before his eyes And mine The whole time, I just stood there Did nothing to assist the **** or stop the violence Remained on the safe sidelines A ****** of violence Only when it's safe do I approach I take his picture What was it the aborigines said? “No pictures - Your pictures steal our soul” But I insist I take the pictures I steal the souls His and mine Cliff Perkins September 13, 2016
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60
Us/you/I swaying on the spiralling star-smudged staircase that leads to the evanescent crescendo of the sun. Synchronously//Contemporaneously, the moon subsisting in her shadow, spills ashen white light ray andlimn her initials, across the somber sky.
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Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 11:38 PM UTC
Unstable angina//Nectar of infinity.
Thy and mine Offspring The time stood still and that love got in- like sand stroking along our entire body synchronously to evenly skim. Skin errections determined- mine and thy presence - neglecting cold lessons- to the offspring slightly preserved as thin. From my lips to thy forehead- and thy to mine - in between anchored is the Offspring like a melody line.
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Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 1:23 PM UTC
Offspring
At that moment, they all synchronously met their unfortunate match. Peering into the empty cup that had seemingly remained bottomless for years now, A swarthy darkness is quick to envelop them. Pay no attention to this profound loss.
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Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 12:11 PM UTC
The Commencement and the Closing
Within our souls we discovered, Each other, In the fever of such an occasion, As our fervor blazes on, As our tongues pummel to excavate, Unearthing the burrow of our feelings, To touch and hold, As the invisible boundaries between us, Are no more? Enthralling me with sudden desperation, Squeezing each other just enough to, Lethargic our eupnea, As we are subdued by incalescence, Of ecstasy, As expectations of red hot feeling arise, At this juncture our souls slip away, Into an eclipse asphyxiated into, Another dimension, Distending every fiber of our beings, Into a captivating moment of pleasure, With a passion so strong it is scorching, Once more the flame grows, Just then Passion overbears us, As we tremble in a moment lips clinging Arms steadfastly hugs persist, As our souls depart in euphoric elation, Prolonged for that last moment of, Ardor passing what seems to be our, Lifeless bodies, As it synchronously constraints us, The fiery searing subsides, We feel this need ever stronger, To pursue our SWELTERING LOVE,
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Jan 26, 2018
Jan 26, 2018 at 3:54 PM UTC
“SWELTERING LOVE”
) ( ( ) ☕️☕️     I wonder still, if you'd enjoy milked tea, well, i'd let you....while i sip my coffee let's gaze eye to eye and let things be. spaces and times are not always comfy. let's maximize, talk as we walk leisurely, in spacious perimeters of the mind...saying "us," and "we," first times, unconsciously, a sight to behold, we surely could be let's allow our feelings to unfold, shall we? maybe, as we dine, maybe, over wine. by a shady banyan tree, we could stroll, or bury our feet in the cool sandy shore eyes and hearts are nourished lavishly our souls, enriched generously, as we devour the sky's infinity we go back, refill our cups...would yours be tea again? mine, this time, would be rummed coffee. I soar, when our thoughts travel synchronously sometimes, though, we're like a broken poetry some parts of life simply cannot be changed and i, definitely, refuse to break a chain. and i start asking questions unceasingly, which later, turn to crumpled poetry... ::::::::::::::: ::::::::::: ::::::::(another silly love poem) sally b Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan April 20, 2021
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Apr 19, 2021
Apr 19, 2021 at 1:35 PM UTC
Tea and Coffee
The curves of our bodies, intricately designed, like whispered prayers folded into flesh, etched by hands that knew we would meet. Echo the same thoughts, synchronously aligned, your breath, a hymn against my skin, your touch, a scripture I long to read. Fate stitched us together in silent knowing, yet here we stand— near, but never near enough.
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Mar 13, 2025
Mar 13, 2025 at 8:16 AM UTC
Curves
Ignite, spark, ablaze Ignite, spark, ablaze Ignite, spark, ablaze Ignite the glowing ember from the spaces between my ribcage, Burn the butterflies and set me on fire Spark the curiosity you kindled in my brain, As it is encompassed by the thought train Carrying a cargo of irrevocable desire Ablaze is my heart beating rhythmically, Synchronously each time your name comes into mind I have always been told not to play with fire But I left that advice behind When I learned that it shed light and a new beginning, Opened the doors of opportunity; Gave warmth and safety, Maybe, it would be easy If fire did not ***** the tips of your fingers when you come too close; If fire did not leave marks on your skin, But… my patience is wearing thin And I don’t think I can stop you – I don’t think I want you to So I let you engulf me in your fire once more Until I fade into the ashes you will always ignore
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Oct 25, 2017
Oct 25, 2017 at 8:47 AM UTC
burned out
We drift within vanished memories, our obscured individuality. Each experience — a hollow fragment of oneself we can't hold. Our hands though clasped, can never tangle into one. No storm could shatter the walls each long hold. Our souls orbit in polyphony, never quite colliding. Intimacy pirouettes at the extremity of an abyss– silently. A fissure runs between two hearts beating synchronously, yet searching solitude. Our hearts– a silent sea where longing wanders away. I trace the marks on your face, quietly, deeply. Hoping a map could lead to the depths, of your soul. But I am trapped in shadows of uncertainty, where words flounder and secrets lie. We lean towards one another, yet inwardness no matter how close– guarantees a distance. Perhaps we aren't lovers but actors playing. Here I am lying – in the void of emptiness, refusing to accept that distance kills intimacy. In my mind, remains fragments of our memories. Maybe we never truly found love– only lost in each other's embrace. @noirwhisky
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May 3, 2025
May 3, 2025 at 11:27 AM UTC
Erotics of otherness
Nightfall paradise Movies and photographs Oh, dear with those classic lines You gave me roses and wines So, breathe in as I puff out While yours beats synchronously with my heart Cigars and coffee Taste of confusion and fantasy We are troubled souls We are ill-timed soulmates Still, I believe, we are meant to be Not now, but in another lifetime maybe Perhaps it would take a hundred years, A thousand-single day of longing, A lifetime of waiting, To finally find our way to each other. But I swear it wouldn't matter. So, will you wait? Will you search for me till then?
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Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 2:43 AM UTC
Coffee
one talks, one listens never both, concurrently perhaps share one distance and frequency synchronously one apologises, one forgives for one makes mistakes and amidst understanding, lives as love shall forever stand two learn, two grow reason, never row and you and I show how far one could go – billiondays
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Apr 11, 2020
Apr 11, 2020 at 10:19 AM UTC
one or two