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Thomas Haverman Oct 2012
The problem with infinity is
that it excludes a fresh start

Like the first day of spring just
that whisper of winter holds

and that ring that
although worn thorougly

still a ring is.

Maybe we should adjust
our goals; no more longing
for a new beginning

but aim to not forget.
Michael Parish Dec 2015
Something will be found which they cannot express.

The crowd in your white lace dress!!

Your mind thorougly smug
Beneath your wet hairs

A kitten of our love

Oh yea it is shadowed green half way

Round a billion christmas trees
White washed with star bleach!

An evning in a wall frozen like apples...

I felt spiders, lime water poising my skin
like Hiroshima,
                                The falling iguanas (fake)
I lied.

Nothing from south america becomes sand like japanese papers.  Another great poem ******!
                                    (2)

     On the airof this busy pitty progress- I squeal electric darkness.
    May i feel
May i feel

May i feel your divine maze of unsucess?

In desserts very clean.    Thefront yard decided much so or pain.  

The street light in desperation was postphoned with recent tears

With recent tears,  thick syrup,  over winter honey.

Seattle dusk is turned to grand piano keys

With goods.          Pages of grim dead fish

Just **** money out of delicate breeding!

She blushes like a ruby chinook!

Now i have picked where to carve
Her unwrapped layers.

Beautiful things are softer then thin clear bones.  

I know the dead are haphazards.

But im not much from another river.

I have ran over lastyears broken tides with snow bringing the scent of melted cheese.

And life is over

But often times with voice there is so much more.

Unreal crys,  richly pay,half a block, red rosy eyes in the haze.

At last im getting a sweet pool of glaciar water- a sweet place to **** out my twisting invention. An excrement i started, imagination from my impulsive instinct.
Radhica Kumar Jun 2019
What does being broken mean?
What does being lost mean?

She woke up to moments of unsubdued
She woke up clueless as to what she ought to do.

She walked outside but regrets became obvious.
She walked outside unsure of one's purpose.

She kept listening to bottomless music.
She kept dancing to relentless music.

No amount of books can protect her from what she feels.
No amount of films can conceal the pain for her heal.

She is broken.
She is lost.

She kept it all.

Kept it, and found nothing but cold under the sun.
Kept it, and found pain during rain.
Kept it, and found loneliness under the moon rays.
Kept it, and found no constellation to the twinkling of the stars.

She was broken.
She was lost.

She kept it.

She prayed for peace and had it.

She wakes up to moments of deep breaths.
She wakes up to pursue purpose.

She walks thorougly for she was indeed uncrippled.
She walks unswervingly for she was blind no more.

She listens as profoundess is found in the songs that her soul sings.
She dances to the beat of her finally, unwavering heart.

Such amount books gave new chapters of life filled with twists and things she didn't thought she'd look forward to,
Such amount of films opened hope in the way her eyes was filled with spark and curiosity,

At last, her strings gave in to ease
She knew she always had Him.
Hence, the warmth of the sun filled her back with support.
Hence, the unending pour of rain to her hands and arms as she extends it remind her that Someone's got her and she'll not be the fallen, not anymore.
Hence, moonlight reminded her of her faith and optimism to life.
The stars, o the night's brightest of the most brightest one's appear a memoir of her infinite thoughts gave her beauty and enchanting passion to all things that she does.

Slowly, looking up at the sky.
She squints her eyes as wrinkles at the sides of her face show up.
She feels all at once.

And there she was finally free.

— The End —