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"synchrony" poems
*We may have crossed the same paths and walked on the same parks. We may have eaten on the same restaurants or probably have used the same coffee cups There might even a moment that we’re on the same place or maybe some million worlds apart. And probably I have sat behind you on a bus, but we don’t even know each other yet And maybe, at some point of our lives, you were so happily in love with your partner. While I am crying over a spilled milk and my messed up life. And you, living a life full of laughter To my future love, I wanted to tell you so many things. But for now, let us bide one’s time Let us make the most of this moment, make mistakes and learn from it. Let us love and get hurt so by the time we meet, we are mature enough to handle our relationship My future love, I am on my way. I may be a bit late, but please be patient. I waited for you for like a lifetime, promise you, I’ll be there on the right time Until then, please think of me and I’ll dream of you. And one day, the stars will align to spell out our names. Our hearts will beat in synchrony and finally we will realize we have known each other all along*
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Feb 14, 2017
Feb 14, 2017 at 9:16 AM UTC
To my future love
a love poem, of new & old, why I am the summer-man!^ summer is winding down, sky’s multi blues freezer safe stored in ziplock see thru bags, marked and named by hue, the where and the when, so when the eyes finally fail, when the squinting don’t help, when the good things those good blues aroused, poems, lush and morning thanks for being alive come-not-at-all, quite the opposite, these cold blues may help, to recall why it was worth breathing summer is winding down, so am I, the synchrony no accident, time, the Pharmacy kitchen calendar claiming another victim, willing or not, those cars and the blue eyed models, are now but blurred wishes and hopes, even these words, spoken, not finger scribed, for the keyboard a jumbled jungle of alpha-numerical of confusion hellish and my sons don’t come to clean up my pathetic messes, sending their little children, beloved concubines of my heart the daytime watcher, spanglish her native lingo, tho single words she’s pretty good at too, but that don’t help much; the grands, toddlers to pre-teens, the eldest a womanly eight, tries but soon frustration bored, slips away quiet like replacing her with her two year old sister, who knows her alphabet which ain’t an exactly a help, but her five pencils stored^ nearby, tagged with her name, awaiting her poems, her one true legacy try to imagine her as a grandmother, farseeing the day when she occupied this too too hard to-get-out-of-by-myself “easy” chair, making rhymes with her next-next generational  descendants, faint remembering the silliness sorcery that I secreted in her brain; zingo, bingo, lingo tango, ginkgo, jingo, ** ** oh no, oh no! ashes, gray hairy poppy is a silly, when he is not a grumpy, old man all fall down! which she acts out with giggles galore, adding a teacup embellishment, a creme fraiche pearly teeth smile topping, the day watcher agrees, verrry verrry funny, but time to me *** and take a needed morning ***** no poppy! no poppy! no poppy! no nap, no *** no ***** thinking the call out is for her, stomping her feet in an alternating rhythm and rhymes I, happy poppy, ecstatics drooling out, foreseeing the rhyme is strong in her, get wheeled away crinkled and crackling, *zingo, bingo, lingo tango, ginkgo, jingo ** ** oh no, oh no! ashes gray hairy poppy is a silly, when he is not a grumpy, old man all fall down!* a new genre me of gibberish summertime love poems
0
Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 5:11 PM UTC
#1299 : a new & old love poem: I am the summer-man!
a love poem, of new & old, why I am the summer-man!^ summer is winding down, sky’s multi blues freezer safe stored in ziplock see thru bags, marked and named by hue, the where and the when, so when the eyes finally fail, when the squinting don’t help, when the good things those good blues aroused, poems, lush and morning thanks for being alive come-not-at-all, quite the opposite, these cold blues may help, to recall why it was worth breathing summer is winding down, so am I, the synchrony no accident, time, the Pharmacy kitchen calendar claiming another victim, willing or not, those cars and the blue eyed models, are now but blurred wishes and hopes, even these words, spoken, not finger scribed, for the keyboard a jumbled jungle of alpha-numerical of confusion hellish and my sons don’t come to clean up my pathetic messes, sending their little children, beloved concubines of my heart the daytime watcher, spanglish her native lingo, tho single words she’s pretty good at too, but that don’t help much; the grands, toddlers to pre-teens, the eldest a womanly eight, tries but soon frustration bored, slips away quiet like replacing her with her two year old sister, who knows her alphabet which ain’t an exactly a help, but her five pencils stored^ nearby, tagged with her name, awaiting her poems, her one true legacy try to imagine her as a grandmother, farseeing the day when she occupied this too too hard to-get-out-of-by-myself “easy” chair, making rhymes with her next-next generational  descendants, faint remembering the silliness sorcery that I secreted in her brain; zingo, bingo, lingo tango, ginkgo, jingo, ** ** oh no, oh no! ashes, gray hairy poppy is a silly, when he is not a grumpy, old man all fall down! which she acts out with giggles galore, adding a teacup embellishment, a creme fraiche pearly teeth smile topping, the day watcher agrees, verrry verrry funny, but time to me *** and take a needed morning ***** no poppy! no poppy! no poppy! no nap, no *** no ***** thinking the call out is for her, stomping her feet in an alternating rhythm and rhymes I, happy poppy, ecstatics drooling out, foreseeing the rhyme is strong in her, get wheeled away crinkled and crackling, *zingo, bingo, lingo tango, ginkgo, jingo ** ** oh no, oh no! ashes gray hairy poppy is a silly, when he is not a grumpy, old man all fall down!* a new genre me of gibberish summertime love poems
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57
Why must a heart beat? To keep a rhythmic marching time through life? That common tempo keeping order in our lawless world of hate and fear death. Each heartbeat rallies troops across the globe, a single feature shared in every life, an army built on spirit, crying out with every thump that we are one. But what must hearts beat for? To beat we mean to say 'to fight,' and for what better cause to fight than love? That painful pleasure wielding power both to wreck lives and create them, the strength it gives to those from whom it stole in battles past. Enamoured and encased in armour, steeled against the pain before as drums beat faster palms grow sweaty the tempo quickens gazes steady you brace and lean in gently and surrender to his kiss as he gives in to yours, your battle won by both as both your drums keep time in perfect synchrony your breaths the perfect melody that keep the perfect peace.
0
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 8:39 AM UTC
Heartbeat
the Nephelaen mediatrix sings fating an ambrosia synchrony of tones she volves her telic tepals ripe: areoles ensorcelled under alate nomes she heralds petrichoric quench with nova womb to subtend violet ray in stellar bloom, noema web: sensate fontanels in spite of dessication's wrench are concresced atmospheric balms of evanescent nervure, calyces displayed to sky-crossed home, unpillared and ovoid .
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Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 8:07 AM UTC
hummingbird nebula
*Claw beneath your ribs Hold down wild you Just for a little while Feel the anguished flutter Begging these gruff hands . . .* 1. Fear takes commotive hold Makes wooden legs Delayed dance…..so delayed Causing silent attendance of synchrony No use stepping out for flight just yet, if alone Will meantime practise wing-span                            iron out brittle energy                            attempt to fortify links                            .. 2. Careless snubs to fragile sapling Did absolutely nothing To the course set out Only hypocrites squander even half-truths and wallow in obsequious words rendering paralysis and decay I will continue to claw beneath your ribs Covert trove awaits us In the tormented form of Crashing waves on a broken coast Hacked to near-distraction by potent searching 3. Loss is not wasted unseen by its absence: evocative presence felt …with penniless eyes I challenge you to visualise our melting:                  perched on fate’s right shoulder                  re-sent to this basic arena as buoyant token                  summoned by that primordial, blue light                  .. *the sun may well baulk and melt at the ruddy sight of such intense clawing beneath your ribs (like your customary digging into my bristling blades) To find my foetal place within the calling drumbeats of imperative you . . .* S T, sunsday . . . 21 July 2013
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Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 4:50 AM UTC
C L A W
*Claw beneath your ribs Hold down wild you Just for a little while Feel the anguished flutter Begging these gruff hands . . .* 1. Fear takes commotive hold Makes wooden legs Delayed dance…..so delayed Causing silent attendance of synchrony No use stepping out for flight just yet, if alone Will meantime practise wing-span                            iron out brittle energy                            attempt to fortify links                            .. 2. Careless snubs to fragile sapling Did absolutely nothing To the course set out Only hypocrites squander even half-truths and wallow in obsequious words rendering paralysis and decay I will continue to claw beneath your ribs Covert trove awaits us In the tormented form of Crashing waves on a broken coast Hacked to near-distraction by potent searching 3. Loss is not wasted unseen by its absence: evocative presence felt …with penniless eyes I challenge you to visualise our melting:                  perched on fate’s right shoulder                  re-sent to this basic arena as buoyant token                  summoned by that primordial, blue light                  .. *the sun may well baulk and melt at the ruddy sight of such intense clawing beneath your ribs (like your customary digging into my bristling blades) To find my foetal place within the calling drumbeats of imperative you . . .* S T, sunsday . . . 21 July 2013
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44
Onetime I let a boy inside my ribcage I warned him upon entry that the path to the     space     between my lungs was a oneway ticket that I had never smoked a cigarette, but the walls inside me were tar-filled   and sick that sometimes my heart failed to beat with my brain and instead fell into perfect uneven synchrony with the faucet where I threw-up cherry red the other night. Onetime I let a boy with a knife inside my ribcage and I had seen the knife and I didn't care he climbed inside me so gently like he belonged there and was just taking his place like a missing ***** he made me his home reassembled my insides vital pieces of me now resting on his body, depending on his body one hand on my heart the other on my throat. Onetime I let a boy with a knife and a bottle of bourbon live inside my ribcage he cleaned the tar off the walls but didn't cure the sickness I think he liked the smell of it. One night he carved his name everywhere spine clavicle esophagus and I pretended to sleep cut nick slash he tried to claim me he tried to clean me but lost souls can't be claimed and I'll never be clean enough my heart follows faucets not boys and that scared the boy so one night he poured the bourbon down the throat he held and I didn't stop him and I almost drowned gulp, gulp, gulp slash, slash, slash cursive illegible sorry's over every spot he had once cut his name into and he kissed the wounds and I woke up heavy. Organs are worthless without their host but Onetime I watched a boy tear his way out of my ribcage. Knife and empty bottle in his place, nothing's been working right in there since. I haven't let anyone in there since.
0
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 3:57 AM UTC
***** Transplant
Onetime I let a boy inside my ribcage I warned him upon entry that the path to the     space     between my lungs was a oneway ticket that I had never smoked a cigarette, but the walls inside me were tar-filled   and sick that sometimes my heart failed to beat with my brain and instead fell into perfect uneven synchrony with the faucet where I threw-up cherry red the other night. Onetime I let a boy with a knife inside my ribcage and I had seen the knife and I didn't care he climbed inside me so gently like he belonged there and was just taking his place like a missing ***** he made me his home reassembled my insides vital pieces of me now resting on his body, depending on his body one hand on my heart the other on my throat. Onetime I let a boy with a knife and a bottle of bourbon live inside my ribcage he cleaned the tar off the walls but didn't cure the sickness I think he liked the smell of it. One night he carved his name everywhere spine clavicle esophagus and I pretended to sleep cut nick slash he tried to claim me he tried to clean me but lost souls can't be claimed and I'll never be clean enough my heart follows faucets not boys and that scared the boy so one night he poured the bourbon down the throat he held and I didn't stop him and I almost drowned gulp, gulp, gulp slash, slash, slash cursive illegible sorry's over every spot he had once cut his name into and he kissed the wounds and I woke up heavy. Organs are worthless without their host but Onetime I watched a boy tear his way out of my ribcage. Knife and empty bottle in his place, nothing's been working right in there since. I haven't let anyone in there since.
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55
we were each other's sunlight shining brightly upon each other as we give each other a touch of earthly warmth we were two celestial bodies bound together by each other's gravity revolving about a mutual coordinate moving in universal synchrony but it looks like all our hydrogen has ran out and we collapsed into a white dwarf—dim light no life, no soul, cold to the touch we are running out of light and you gave up on emitting yours yet i force myself to keep on shining like i'm milking stone, it's hopeless
0
Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 9:52 AM UTC
stonemilker
All perish whence they quest for immortality, Such foolish dreams will result in fatality. Critters struggle in nets of ersatz reality, Hormonal clashes unbalance our morality. Under the influence by budding, ravishing thyme, Oft' that sunny beam leaves me doing pantomime. Chaste clues and envy droughts left me mellowing, Such pain ipso facto I can't kiss this porcelain. My seat of notions drives me to calculate, While undead, fatigued, I falsely formulate. Floundering in viscous fluids, I am drowning... My verdant sail is half-mast: lonely, frowning. Within moon-lit meadows, shadows flow cursively, Beyond the kaleidoscope lay a rustic key. Beg you pardon the rust and blackened fissures, Pardon those slights to open eternal treasures. To crave two heart beats align in synchrony, To sluice my fingers through the strands of memory. Embracing silvery asps soaring on the breeze, My sight spies thy adieu and I shatter apiece. Un-writing errors, distantly, unstumbling, The abyss: now a star, wings unfurling. 'Tween the heavens fell meteoric golds, Sinusoidal cascades of such sublime codes. Traversed steadily upon the gilded firmaments, Was so small, blind to the unseen monuments. To be offered aristocratic absolution, From my humble plebeian resolution. I am sublime. 'Hold my dichotomous, nay, Such cantankerous introversion within, eh?
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Sep 22, 2010
Sep 22, 2010 at 3:40 PM UTC
Dichotomy of Insanity
Her small hands encased in his, Her heart beats in synchrony to his promises of ever lasting love, but the battles he faces scream louder than the sound of her tears as she pleads for his warm embrace, As he soldiers on to his upcoming war, Her cries for him, are heard no more.
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Nov 10, 2021
Nov 10, 2021 at 9:04 PM UTC
Battle Cry
You dreamed it once The slow bend in the road Past which the world delves Into the realm of the unreal Unrealised futures selves That are as material as Anything will ever be In this stretch of land Between here and infinity Where a million bonded yous Could be living in flawed Synchrony, a dissonance of Possible lives you will never see Even now at the precipice Of all that waits to come The time it takes for a hum To bloom into the vibration Of a body growing wings Is that step that lays down The brick for the next Two feet never together On the same square inch of ground There lies the sound of cracking shells A chrysalis to which you are bound By birth, where inside you lay the Stones of the inverted pyramid With each clean bone leading Cleanly to the edge, the rising temple Held up by the apex of the roof Long before belief has penetrated The invisible heart of the root
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May 9, 2021
May 9, 2021 at 5:54 AM UTC
Latency
The leaves sway in synchrony To the rhythm of the melancholic wind There were whispers, Growls, sobs, All hidden deep within The folds of the loud, Inhuman cries. Her mood swings in sychrony To the rhythm of the melancholic lyrics There were whispers, Hope, faith, All hidden deep within The depths of the silent, Human mind.
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Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 4:20 AM UTC
Nature vs The Human Mind
The piper came again In this world of pain The clouds were packing up in the last part of the sky Turning themselves to dragons, the ostriches left behind In a race which has no end From eternity to eternity As free as a bird The unicorns, angels, owls n strings of guitar Everything moving in their own pace Following the tune of the piper To a world where there are no boundaries Where there are no divisons Where there are no societies And the trees are friends The door opens with warm welcome of the sunrise The dogs of this world don't bark at men And dragons wait for the ostriches The forests echo with laughter And everyone is happy Here no one is hungry n no one has greed No sloth, no control, no envy, no judgement No wrath, no cautiousness, no reasonings, no hypothesis The strings speak, cry and sing in synchrony The songs of unity The songs of fraternity The songs of spirituality Here streets are unbaptised People have no types And u don't need an identity to prove yourself a human being Because here, all is one and one is all Pain is not a word here If u come with stetho, they'll send u back No hypocrisy, no pretending And u can keep ur things at ur places And everything is in a motion With the tune of the piper Now when the trust is broken The light is split into colours They race with different speeds The beats and tunes of the strings turn to mere noises Unicorns fight to break down their horns, get turned to horses Who again begin to race The ostriches get extinct The dragons fight And the river of blood flows The vultures appear The bacteria begin decaying things Into gases that poison civilisation The division begin and people sing their anthems at minutest levels And the world splits into billion pieces Everyone trying to increase their territory Coz they need bigger spaces and they fight for more But when the two worlds fuse The freedom is extended And they call it love The more they love, the more freedom they experience They begin a journey From eternity to eternity...
0
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 4:01 PM UTC
a walk from eternity to eternity
The piper came again In this world of pain The clouds were packing up in the last part of the sky Turning themselves to dragons, the ostriches left behind In a race which has no end From eternity to eternity As free as a bird The unicorns, angels, owls n strings of guitar Everything moving in their own pace Following the tune of the piper To a world where there are no boundaries Where there are no divisons Where there are no societies And the trees are friends The door opens with warm welcome of the sunrise The dogs of this world don't bark at men And dragons wait for the ostriches The forests echo with laughter And everyone is happy Here no one is hungry n no one has greed No sloth, no control, no envy, no judgement No wrath, no cautiousness, no reasonings, no hypothesis The strings speak, cry and sing in synchrony The songs of unity The songs of fraternity The songs of spirituality Here streets are unbaptised People have no types And u don't need an identity to prove yourself a human being Because here, all is one and one is all Pain is not a word here If u come with stetho, they'll send u back No hypocrisy, no pretending And u can keep ur things at ur places And everything is in a motion With the tune of the piper Now when the trust is broken The light is split into colours They race with different speeds The beats and tunes of the strings turn to mere noises Unicorns fight to break down their horns, get turned to horses Who again begin to race The ostriches get extinct The dragons fight And the river of blood flows The vultures appear The bacteria begin decaying things Into gases that poison civilisation The division begin and people sing their anthems at minutest levels And the world splits into billion pieces Everyone trying to increase their territory Coz they need bigger spaces and they fight for more But when the two worlds fuse The freedom is extended And they call it love The more they love, the more freedom they experience They begin a journey From eternity to eternity...
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58
*staring through heat wave shimmer baring to the sky thoughts unseen* 1. watching picking of peaches in drop-day sun rows and rows of others              neat aligning synchrony - laden baskets like well-oiled piston-joints 2. and when you think nobody looks                a sudden-bite into fleshy-soft ardour taste oh          of swollen heaven-fruit *oh ****** accordion-vision spilling of the unexpected                                (drip.. drip.. splash.. sink.. ) onto the collar of your cotton-blouse in slightly off-white splendour arms thrown up in harvest-fervour           a semi-circle of moist petal winks at me           from arm-pit labour a deep flush on cheeks as your locket-eye feels a touch unready finding my mild-gaze resting on your rubiest-lips ever seen 3. later it is sure a plumb-matching of that pretty furtive-stain will be rather fetching on your light-green peasant-frock hark now! the winds will howl in least protest and waves off southern-cliff coast where hardy-souls dare go will quite steadfast roar.. in unison *oh, ice-rains may fall and squalls may blow yet finest moment-dawning will be much like.. picking at the ripe-time* S T - 20 sept
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Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 4:48 AM UTC
picking at the ripe-time
Gild the marble as divine as ice, Day's eye sinking below the horizon line, Red dust drift among torrential specks, Echoes boom from the valley pine. Lay upon the crisp sunny hay, Clean the grime from the sapphire quay, Immerse 'tween the twilight breeze, Asps should **** off, leave me in peace. As synchrony reach cacophony, Our destinies uncross, tis uncanny. If true, a key unlocks powers of lore, Against, the key forfeits my very soul. Capture my seat of soft emotions, Crush it against your decrepit merits weigh, Scheme within your empty jeweled mansions, Burn to ashes my undead void lest it decay. All such entities loving their tragedies, Ridiculous melodramatic melodies. Slouch and wallow as monuments, Imaginary quagmire of queer torments. Swing the fury of Krato's strike, Kneel in dust of ancient plights, Hold thy loved ones above the light, Spy the ragged truth outside insight. Flood the starry gates: drown my pain, From colossi reduced to ******** straits, My mask cares less lest I am unpaid, Friendship once did the beloved slay. Tears trembles upon my eye. Good-bye time, friend of mine.
0
Oct 8, 2010
Oct 8, 2010 at 6:26 PM UTC
Emote the Inane
we wouldve waltzed then and there... the sky and its thousand eyes would bear witness to that spectacle of a moment: a trade of footsteps and a synchrony of motion-- we'd wonder why despite being lost in each other's eyes we could render such a dynamic embrace and paint the night a rosy red hue... i say that perhaps then the goddess of love has taken the wheel.
0
Dec 9, 2022
Dec 9, 2022 at 11:03 PM UTC
if we could only dance
Just, thought I, to escape a while, Mundane light in the desk at home On these splintered, black-tar roads Marching, festooned in leaf and in rock Snapping and scattering from underfoot. My heavy breaths are this odd meter In-out, in-out on this pavement slap The knees are strained, down, the stream Of rheumy little beads—lines! (I sense Conception of a rare cadence In which earth finds its synchrony). ‘Round the walls of rustic homes and will To this walking gallery of the ‘ville Ancient oaks, they lift their head and grin To a sky beyond the storm, what with plumes Unearthly fronds, dark with salmon painted on Softened, its oil, burnt carnal black That loose-end feeling holding it back. Furrowed brow, I run with now Sweet winds and pirouette The dancers go amidst the leaves Hold Hell high ‘bove white hands Turned in deference and o,’ Arbor! Your threshold live and saturnine Entire eternities unfold now, silk scarf on Goddess Eve, her halo proud Gold embraced by Pink and now She strides in by the choral geese Flown to sing her godhead to sleep Her rest had blest pain to leave me now At those gates loud, effervescent Shimmering, shimmering In calm disbelief And on And on. Back at the source, that in-between Bare **** of the Fasick bridge Magmatic pallets, on faces two One shared tear drop, a cosmic breadth. I saw from there the garden of stone Lonely tombs in blamy play Fruits sprung in those past lives. I shared their rest for moment still And back it goes, the nameless past Where they exists as dreams, beside me. Two sides, met then so diverged I saw their peace where night emerged Where pink embraced the dark Went to rest on low horizons. The world closed its lips and lids Its eyes and loving heart Bathed, it all, in low florescence And lullaby of cicadas.
0
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 11:07 PM UTC
Dusk at Fasick Bridge
Just, thought I, to escape a while, Mundane light in the desk at home On these splintered, black-tar roads Marching, festooned in leaf and in rock Snapping and scattering from underfoot. My heavy breaths are this odd meter In-out, in-out on this pavement slap The knees are strained, down, the stream Of rheumy little beads—lines! (I sense Conception of a rare cadence In which earth finds its synchrony). ‘Round the walls of rustic homes and will To this walking gallery of the ‘ville Ancient oaks, they lift their head and grin To a sky beyond the storm, what with plumes Unearthly fronds, dark with salmon painted on Softened, its oil, burnt carnal black That loose-end feeling holding it back. Furrowed brow, I run with now Sweet winds and pirouette The dancers go amidst the leaves Hold Hell high ‘bove white hands Turned in deference and o,’ Arbor! Your threshold live and saturnine Entire eternities unfold now, silk scarf on Goddess Eve, her halo proud Gold embraced by Pink and now She strides in by the choral geese Flown to sing her godhead to sleep Her rest had blest pain to leave me now At those gates loud, effervescent Shimmering, shimmering In calm disbelief And on And on. Back at the source, that in-between Bare **** of the Fasick bridge Magmatic pallets, on faces two One shared tear drop, a cosmic breadth. I saw from there the garden of stone Lonely tombs in blamy play Fruits sprung in those past lives. I shared their rest for moment still And back it goes, the nameless past Where they exists as dreams, beside me. Two sides, met then so diverged I saw their peace where night emerged Where pink embraced the dark Went to rest on low horizons. The world closed its lips and lids Its eyes and loving heart Bathed, it all, in low florescence And lullaby of cicadas.
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53
we were in mutual coordinate in natural synchrony of our own microcosms. we were bathed in showers of the starlit cloak that greets us before the morn. we were slowly revolving around our own mutual center of gravity. we were slowly spiraling as we near each other's force of attraction. we saw each other spiraling toward an event horizon, of which escapes are to no avail. we were hurtling towards each other, bracing no impact, but with arms wide open. we danced 'til the night has passed, and slowly have i realized the truth of it all. we danced a moonlight dance, but it was i, alone in my mind's delusional figment!
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Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 5:05 AM UTC
moonlight dance
Sometimes brilliance is a broken light Flashing on and off of it's own accord. Blinding and flickering in synchrony. Sometimes brilliance is a fickle ***** Flipping the switch of discord ****** I lost it. Oh the irony. See, sometimes we're inspired And sometimes we're not. You can tell the difference by a lot Of instances in which brilliance fades Like when you need the Ace of Spades For that beautiful royal flush But you've got a full house of mush and gush so you hush and blush at every word and signal thrown your way because at the end of the day all you are is summed up in the words you didn't say to those around you. The people you've lifted and the people you let fall, count it up, count it all. All the times brilliance failed and all the times you've prevailed are more than just a flickering light. They are your guide and they are your sight. Embrace them while you can for they just might be extinguished at the end of the night.
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May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 1:10 AM UTC
Consistency Would Be Nice
The spaces between the silence The absence of your presence There you stand, too tall In the crowd of my defiance Keeping it real our heads held high Extracting the blue longing essence We build the walls staying in dark Blocks of reality cemented with distance We shed each other like second skin In the act of withdrawing assurance Now the idol dominoes fall in synchrony In the wind of emotions with eloquence The doors forever closed and windows jammed Locked out of endless comforting luminance While the journey lasts a clock ticks ahead Lingers the fumes of  evocation fragrance
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Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 12:40 AM UTC
Speed Dial Number 2
I could find a way to make a voice so small become loud,          loud enough to influence hearts and minds with words. We are routed in love,          yet our structure does not embody unity in full. Empathy is lacking and eyes burn with ignorance,          peace can only be found through pure intention. Time is a gift while everything is a choice,          choose to create moments that are a reflection of honesty. Beauty exuded by the synchrony of our souls is captivating,          rich reminders to care for one another. If I blend my thoughts with your thoughts,          you and I should feel safe-            we are all one.
0
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 6:49 PM UTC
Solidarity
In my head In my bed When I'm laying alone Wondering if I'm in yours And it hurts me to my core The fact that I still miss you And I still want to kiss you But as time will pass I'm sure this can't last Right? You're neither friend nor foe I don't know what you are, though I believe you are something Ironically Something not logical And temperamental in nature A ticking time bomb of sorts Just waiting till the fuse burns And everything bursts At the seams of the heart And everything will rip apart Then come together with such synchrony That it'll be a little bit scary But, I don't fret Because I know I'm better than that When laying in my bed Welcoming the feeling But dreading the presence Of the image of your face That I once held so dear But, I no longer fear Because I am better than late night romps in your car And trying to touch something that is so far Away from me and through with me But, you are not my enemy These problems are beneath me Because I deserve more than a lack of trust And asking for a massage...was that too much? I forgave you, yes But, that doesn't change this mess Now I'm sober and over This mess that we left I'm cleaning myself up and dusting myself off Because I may have faltered But, I will always get back up And in time we'll both see That you're wrong about me No logic, only emotion Well, you can't have a beach without an ocean But, that's over now and I won't let myself settle for rejection In this circumstance I won't be it's subjection I'll only be it's objection Because I won't stick around where I'm not wanted And maybe soon I won't be haunted By you in my head And in my bed And maybe soon I won't wonder if I'm in yours Because soon I'll know that I'm in mine.
0
Jun 15, 2013
Jun 15, 2013 at 6:49 PM UTC
Maybe Soon...
In my head In my bed When I'm laying alone Wondering if I'm in yours And it hurts me to my core The fact that I still miss you And I still want to kiss you But as time will pass I'm sure this can't last Right? You're neither friend nor foe I don't know what you are, though I believe you are something Ironically Something not logical And temperamental in nature A ticking time bomb of sorts Just waiting till the fuse burns And everything bursts At the seams of the heart And everything will rip apart Then come together with such synchrony That it'll be a little bit scary But, I don't fret Because I know I'm better than that When laying in my bed Welcoming the feeling But dreading the presence Of the image of your face That I once held so dear But, I no longer fear Because I am better than late night romps in your car And trying to touch something that is so far Away from me and through with me But, you are not my enemy These problems are beneath me Because I deserve more than a lack of trust And asking for a massage...was that too much? I forgave you, yes But, that doesn't change this mess Now I'm sober and over This mess that we left I'm cleaning myself up and dusting myself off Because I may have faltered But, I will always get back up And in time we'll both see That you're wrong about me No logic, only emotion Well, you can't have a beach without an ocean But, that's over now and I won't let myself settle for rejection In this circumstance I won't be it's subjection I'll only be it's objection Because I won't stick around where I'm not wanted And maybe soon I won't be haunted By you in my head And in my bed And maybe soon I won't wonder if I'm in yours Because soon I'll know that I'm in mine.
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I Empower You You Empower Me
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Sep 17, 2019
Sep 17, 2019 at 5:44 AM UTC
Synchrony
Winged desires take flight for the crimson skies, As we toy with the strings of our hearts. Fingers slide across my bare back, Like wind that gently glides over still waters. And as the skies mellow into a darker hue, Under a blanket of stars, we rise and fall, Breathless and alive. Somewhere written along the fading horizon, Is poetry that we created, You and I. Who knew that love could be chaotic. Yet we danced in perfect synchrony.
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Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 8:52 AM UTC
Creating poetry
My heartstrings Stretch in harp-like synchrony Waiting for the day when Your fingers pluck them Stolidly Steadily And from a mass at the bottom of the ocean I will Gather and rise into an entrapped bubble Burst up into the oxygenated world Live in my head in ballooned ecstasy Gradually rising to the ether While you watch and giggle In child-like innocence And smile to melt the world.
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Oct 20, 2011
Oct 20, 2011 at 10:21 AM UTC
Fire