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"telluric" poems
I feel the heat                  upon my neck                   sparking fire,                    just a peck                      liberated,                  what the heck                     kissing lips                  & moving hips                   touching me                 with fingertips                 hot and steamy,                  & very dreamy                    skin of gold                 smooth & creamy                   inked in breath                  & just like death,                come to take me                  then forsake me                   words you utter,                 make me shudder                                      afterthoughts                a coming morning                    & even though                ample warning                   your way inside,                    you are horning                       romancing                 of the coming reaper                    our feelings go,                    so much deeper                        not so much,                  a peaceful sleeper                       cannot wait                     or take a pause                    surgery needed                      for the cause                      releasing me,                     a lovely clause                     plunging knife,                       causing pain                        cutting out                       the ugly vein                       taking hold,                    a waving mane                       telling me,                     familiar songs                      come inside                  where you belong                        even if,                they think it wrong                 darkened hearts,                  climbing walls                   a melancholy                    southern drawl                    like a wanting                     Vodoo doll                  pounding sound                  inside your chest          Am I cursed or am I blessed?              buried in a loamy nest               heart arrhythmia                    taking start                  take a blade,                  remove my heart                  taking love & pull apart                   I hold it beating                    in my hands                    relieved at last                    of its demands                    as shadows fall                    low in the deep                    of promises                    we'll never keep                     curling toes,                    as blood it seeps              colored in cascading red                  of endless nights                      that I have bled               laid at last, telluric bed                    I'm melting slow                    into your arms                      dissolved into                 the haunting charms                        glad that I,                   just bit the farm                         lying in                    a field of wheat                     covered by                   my linen sheets                     a **** place                     for us to meet                      & burning                  in the guilty heat                 I'll write you here,                  inside my room                     skies apart,                  forgiving gloom                      push aside                  impending doom                  or what dangers                    wait & loom                  I wait for death                     & love                     ...to bloom                 Cherie Nolan © 2016
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Oct 9, 2016
Oct 9, 2016 at 4:13 PM UTC
"Am I Cursed or Am I Blessed?"
I feel the heat                  upon my neck                   sparking fire,                    just a peck                      liberated,                  what the heck                     kissing lips                  & moving hips                   touching me                 with fingertips                 hot and steamy,                  & very dreamy                    skin of gold                 smooth & creamy                   inked in breath                  & just like death,                come to take me                  then forsake me                   words you utter,                 make me shudder                                      afterthoughts                a coming morning                    & even though                ample warning                   your way inside,                    you are horning                       romancing                 of the coming reaper                    our feelings go,                    so much deeper                        not so much,                  a peaceful sleeper                       cannot wait                     or take a pause                    surgery needed                      for the cause                      releasing me,                     a lovely clause                     plunging knife,                       causing pain                        cutting out                       the ugly vein                       taking hold,                    a waving mane                       telling me,                     familiar songs                      come inside                  where you belong                        even if,                they think it wrong                 darkened hearts,                  climbing walls                   a melancholy                    southern drawl                    like a wanting                     Vodoo doll                  pounding sound                  inside your chest          Am I cursed or am I blessed?              buried in a loamy nest               heart arrhythmia                    taking start                  take a blade,                  remove my heart                  taking love & pull apart                   I hold it beating                    in my hands                    relieved at last                    of its demands                    as shadows fall                    low in the deep                    of promises                    we'll never keep                     curling toes,                    as blood it seeps              colored in cascading red                  of endless nights                      that I have bled               laid at last, telluric bed                    I'm melting slow                    into your arms                      dissolved into                 the haunting charms                        glad that I,                   just bit the farm                         lying in                    a field of wheat                     covered by                   my linen sheets                     a **** place                     for us to meet                      & burning                  in the guilty heat                 I'll write you here,                  inside my room                     skies apart,                  forgiving gloom                      push aside                  impending doom                  or what dangers                    wait & loom                  I wait for death                     & love                     ...to bloom                 Cherie Nolan © 2016
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107
Today my  heart       well it  is saddened             it sits low             in the Stillness now             my precious voice            I so long to find her              taken weary                by a wanton Thief                   why...                      I wish                     for to ask you                     your              sweet sound           that you  own too        inspired chords         oh I wish to hear you           bringing tears            in a thorny crown             as you  steal          my aching heartbeat          in longing pangs             of envy wild              jealous lust             is steering spirits          if a willing voice        souls lost in  time            do not take         that Midnight train ride           consumed by feined                affections lost                sing my heart               releasing chest pain                forming blood            in an endless tide         as I lay bleeding        morning offers        a chance for peace       in  moonsoaked clouds         the trees           I can hear them             softly whisper              gently near            wounded wings         were just repaired       I pray for rain      and to show us how to       be better as         we drain this ink             telluric beds           already laid in          the laying long            let go of sin           like the voice            that I            can't hear now           it's not you        that I'm afraid        it is the sound        of  endless Silence          Paining ears           in a deafening pound             I hear it  calling            from           a battle               waging                    lost                    a tragic end                     voices silenced                  war of ages              left to die            a hefty cost. Cherie Nolan © 2016
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Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 11:11 AM UTC
" The Sound of Silence"
Today my  heart       well it  is saddened             it sits low             in the Stillness now             my precious voice            I so long to find her              taken weary                by a wanton Thief                   why...                      I wish                     for to ask you                     your              sweet sound           that you  own too        inspired chords         oh I wish to hear you           bringing tears            in a thorny crown             as you  steal          my aching heartbeat          in longing pangs             of envy wild              jealous lust             is steering spirits          if a willing voice        souls lost in  time            do not take         that Midnight train ride           consumed by feined                affections lost                sing my heart               releasing chest pain                forming blood            in an endless tide         as I lay bleeding        morning offers        a chance for peace       in  moonsoaked clouds         the trees           I can hear them             softly whisper              gently near            wounded wings         were just repaired       I pray for rain      and to show us how to       be better as         we drain this ink             telluric beds           already laid in          the laying long            let go of sin           like the voice            that I            can't hear now           it's not you        that I'm afraid        it is the sound        of  endless Silence          Paining ears           in a deafening pound             I hear it  calling            from           a battle               waging                    lost                    a tragic end                     voices silenced                  war of ages              left to die            a hefty cost. Cherie Nolan © 2016
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73
*Lavished; I endow many creatures Trenchant and keen they denude as weepers As we are harsh while we wangle Deviser’s enriched are all riotous tamers Crowns en-dowering among the fittest Bounteous of all wades in telluric mist Unscathed by deft spry Admitting your mordant’s are never lies*
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Nov 18, 2010
Nov 18, 2010 at 1:34 PM UTC
Caustic Creature Ov 10,000
I am running out of daylight and in this forgotten chasm, soon I will meet my own fate to become star-blinded But I do not mind. My telluric heart is going to lose its poor blindspots of stifling sobriety by embracing your ravenskinned, asterisk lighted nightshade.
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Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 5:15 PM UTC
Asterisked
*My locum outer self is identified as a conferer, A deep **** stirrer; I frod miserably when trouble occurs Out in the open I am hidden from sight of Earthly cures Sparsely telluric on my own Adroitly celestial in my dome Scape goat from head to toe; I'd drown in and out too many populating Coruscating as you'd spy Balky the opposite: Illuminating inside My barbaric inner self un identified as unseen; Real keen are my advances I'm a tone deft prancing like I can carry tune An elitist with the perfect groove That's what you;d say if given impression hand first Of course, I'd finish the enitire plate without the quench for thirst And I'm hard to capture by pithy eyes too And I'm hard to real inside outside And neither never am I ever; on cue*
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Nov 28, 2010
Nov 28, 2010 at 2:37 PM UTC
2 & 2- Split Persona
Our ancient lineage contains folds encapsulating hidden wisdom unfurling at the weathered edges.   Curling inwards in attempt to direct us to the origin.   Source.   Deposits of insight lie within our bloodline, spiraling beside genetic codes we have carried through lifetimes.   The quickening has arrived, through comprehension acceleration and universal language of Love translations.   Verdant roots nourishing, allowing spiritual nutrients to enhance our brilliance.   We are Telluric creatures:Natural teachers essential to the transfusion of energy between the moon and the sun We are the ones, responsible for our is-ness magnification outgrow foundations we have constructed to keep ourselves from seeing past this self inflicted ceiling.   It has withheld us from feeling anything beyond this consumeristic dogma implanted in our society, force feeding us its enigmatic conditioning.   Detach pre-determined thinking to allow this ever-flowing journey of contemplating mysteries, abolishing worries of fear in the becoming.   It takes courage to assert ones self beyond what we have been taught,   to unlearn ready made thought and rewrite our own scriptures. Our ligaments are sacred scrolls awaiting our blessing, allowing them to unfold   leaving lacuna spaces for existence to experience traces of our essence.   Children of mother earth in collaboration with father time, the genesis of this breath has appointed us as divine, intertwined into a perfected geometric composition, we are creation curators of this generation woven into synthesis, mastered with our gift of presence, god-head recollection.
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Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 10:09 PM UTC
Infinite Growth Spurt
Our ancient lineage contains folds encapsulating hidden wisdom unfurling at the weathered edges.   Curling inwards in attempt to direct us to the origin.   Source.   Deposits of insight lie within our bloodline, spiraling beside genetic codes we have carried through lifetimes.   The quickening has arrived, through comprehension acceleration and universal language of Love translations.   Verdant roots nourishing, allowing spiritual nutrients to enhance our brilliance.   We are Telluric creatures:Natural teachers essential to the transfusion of energy between the moon and the sun We are the ones, responsible for our is-ness magnification outgrow foundations we have constructed to keep ourselves from seeing past this self inflicted ceiling.   It has withheld us from feeling anything beyond this consumeristic dogma implanted in our society, force feeding us its enigmatic conditioning.   Detach pre-determined thinking to allow this ever-flowing journey of contemplating mysteries, abolishing worries of fear in the becoming.   It takes courage to assert ones self beyond what we have been taught,   to unlearn ready made thought and rewrite our own scriptures. Our ligaments are sacred scrolls awaiting our blessing, allowing them to unfold   leaving lacuna spaces for existence to experience traces of our essence.   Children of mother earth in collaboration with father time, the genesis of this breath has appointed us as divine, intertwined into a perfected geometric composition, we are creation curators of this generation woven into synthesis, mastered with our gift of presence, god-head recollection.
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29
They tell me in man lies the source of evils as weakness surrenders to ineluctable lures. That he pursues aims of personal interest out of egocentric greed prompting justice, inequity. That he turns blind eyes to the sufferings of others unable of compassion as he steals their earthly blessings. That he imperturbably drains natural resources to his gain careless of consequences apathetic towards environment. That in the name of telluric power he does not hesitate to drop bombs and fire guns on discriminated innocents. Watches his fellow beings die rejoices for the success of his missions, Yet I know, that for each malicious creature there is one. That preaches good and acts accordingly, finding strength in the marvel that is his own existence. That appals before ignorance repels individualism conceives humanity as one race believes and strives for equality. That sees the struggles the tragedy of the less fortunate born on lands of war sickness and poverty lending a hand of empathy. That cares for his surroundings cherishing the boons granted to all living creatures endeavouring to protect, his world. That is dismayed by injustice abhors violence and abuse engages courage to protest incessantly crying out, for peace. Delights gifting strangers smiles tender looks of presence whispering brotherly, You are not alone. A kind word, a loving deed, a revolution.
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Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 11:04 AM UTC
A revolution
The hidden rite The labradorite scaled skin glistens Full of cyan as well as cyanide Fantastic fish it finds the stream In the crease of the cliff to hide. On one hand it meets the core Of nature. It is telluric till the end The labradorite kisses the lore On the other hand, a legend. The slippery fish follows, swerving The selfish body of water Displaced, it becomes sensual Yet it’s just a fish as usual. November 12, 2016 Lyon
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Nov 13, 2016
Nov 13, 2016 at 4:29 AM UTC
The Hidden Rite
Sartori-Falcon and Hathor eternally dreaming in clear mountain air , employ Lotus Flower and Key of Life in service of the Pneuma . ☆ KA. BA. AKH. RA. All lives , translucent films in space . Like a waterfall of magical numbers and codes of the ancients . ☆ Then , initiation to the realm of the senses , through a rich fabric of symbols , sound and light . ☆ While souls of the bright star children cross the galaxies to their new green home . ☆ Blending their true selves with the energy of animal spirits , they dance cosmic telluric currents and solar winds .
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Nov 10, 2024
Nov 10, 2024 at 7:48 AM UTC
Sartori-Falcon and Hathor