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"thrillingly" poems
*Through the incredulity burning in the grim reaper's eyes, He unwillingly received the souls of those who did not deserve to die ... The bright fluids of life lay bare and insignificant in the godforsaken lands He sighed the heaviest breath he could muster Death was his trade, but this affair had him loosening his grip on the scythe Mumbling the dead's prayer, The half-living defied fate's ruthless threads And squirmed for barren hope A child nearby cries for the light to save him As the shadows devoured their youngest feast, so far Now standing alone, the reaper cursed the gods Who may or may not be listening to him He was disgusted with the greed of these people And their bloodbaths Where those who avoid death and the ones who thrillingly seek it Summon each other with empty excuses Thinking these are enough to fling their guns at the righteous Drink the innocent blood like the finest wine from their vineyards! Stab the weak at their remaining spots Oh how foolish they are! How foolish indeed! He pities those who speak death as their honor When they have only lived like rats Scavengers of chances that purifies their filthy names He scorns those who do not even speak of death In their wild belief that some curse will hand them like a platter to their graves When death is the end that no one , not even him, can escape Those cowards! No one lives to cheat that dark fate! No one! The reaper was provoked by humans Them and their incessant wonder and fear of That that is unknown Them who have stopped looking at their small, definite lives To anticipate what they could not even begin to understand Feeding their illusions that a special place awaits their petty souls to rest on Ahhh!!!He was tired of them all Might as well finish his job...*
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May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 5:44 PM UTC
Stories x Poetry: The Grim Reaper
*Through the incredulity burning in the grim reaper's eyes, He unwillingly received the souls of those who did not deserve to die ... The bright fluids of life lay bare and insignificant in the godforsaken lands He sighed the heaviest breath he could muster Death was his trade, but this affair had him loosening his grip on the scythe Mumbling the dead's prayer, The half-living defied fate's ruthless threads And squirmed for barren hope A child nearby cries for the light to save him As the shadows devoured their youngest feast, so far Now standing alone, the reaper cursed the gods Who may or may not be listening to him He was disgusted with the greed of these people And their bloodbaths Where those who avoid death and the ones who thrillingly seek it Summon each other with empty excuses Thinking these are enough to fling their guns at the righteous Drink the innocent blood like the finest wine from their vineyards! Stab the weak at their remaining spots Oh how foolish they are! How foolish indeed! He pities those who speak death as their honor When they have only lived like rats Scavengers of chances that purifies their filthy names He scorns those who do not even speak of death In their wild belief that some curse will hand them like a platter to their graves When death is the end that no one , not even him, can escape Those cowards! No one lives to cheat that dark fate! No one! The reaper was provoked by humans Them and their incessant wonder and fear of That that is unknown Them who have stopped looking at their small, definite lives To anticipate what they could not even begin to understand Feeding their illusions that a special place awaits their petty souls to rest on Ahhh!!!He was tired of them all Might as well finish his job...*
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53
She walks delicately, carefully, easily. Right on by you. She talks quietly, beautifully, gracefully. Right next to you. Quickly she locks you in. She whispers seductively, huskily, sexily. Right into your ear. She says sweet things, cute things, great things. Straight to you. And now she's getting through. Her heels clack. He nearly spat. But all you do is stare. The way she talks is planned. The way she walks--rehearsed. All those things were petty lies. But it's too late. She smiles cutely, quickly, embarrassed. Just to get to you. She blushes deeply, innocently, easily. While getting ready for you. She has got you chained now. She acts timidly, shyly, less boldly. To get closer to you. She treats you well, kindly, graciously. Just to lie to you. She's got you begging. Her heels clack. He nearly spat. But all you do is stare. The way she talks is planned. The way she walks--rehearsed. All those things were petty lies. But it's too late. She holds your heart frighteningly, tightly, brightly. Making her own you. She looks strong, powerful, unforgettable. Showing herself to you. And now you see through it all. She steps lightly, passionately, happily. Over to you. She seems cruel, evil, sinister. Having played you. Too bad it's nearly the end. Her heels clack. He nearly spat. But all you do is stare. The way she talks is planned. The way she walks--rehearsed. All those things were petty lies. But it's too late. She holds herself dignifiedly, highly, gloriously. As she brings the knife to you. She cuts deeply, thrillingly, chillingly. Straight into you. If only you had known. She moves smoothly, willingly, cutely. Right on by you. She is biter, sinister, crazy. As she continues. And it restarts, nothing new.
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Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 11:03 PM UTC
Lying Devil
She walks delicately, carefully, easily. Right on by you. She talks quietly, beautifully, gracefully. Right next to you. Quickly she locks you in. She whispers seductively, huskily, sexily. Right into your ear. She says sweet things, cute things, great things. Straight to you. And now she's getting through. Her heels clack. He nearly spat. But all you do is stare. The way she talks is planned. The way she walks--rehearsed. All those things were petty lies. But it's too late. She smiles cutely, quickly, embarrassed. Just to get to you. She blushes deeply, innocently, easily. While getting ready for you. She has got you chained now. She acts timidly, shyly, less boldly. To get closer to you. She treats you well, kindly, graciously. Just to lie to you. She's got you begging. Her heels clack. He nearly spat. But all you do is stare. The way she talks is planned. The way she walks--rehearsed. All those things were petty lies. But it's too late. She holds your heart frighteningly, tightly, brightly. Making her own you. She looks strong, powerful, unforgettable. Showing herself to you. And now you see through it all. She steps lightly, passionately, happily. Over to you. She seems cruel, evil, sinister. Having played you. Too bad it's nearly the end. Her heels clack. He nearly spat. But all you do is stare. The way she talks is planned. The way she walks--rehearsed. All those things were petty lies. But it's too late. She holds herself dignifiedly, highly, gloriously. As she brings the knife to you. She cuts deeply, thrillingly, chillingly. Straight into you. If only you had known. She moves smoothly, willingly, cutely. Right on by you. She is biter, sinister, crazy. As she continues. And it restarts, nothing new.
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77
With apathy, I am happy. … Without apathy, I am horribly frustrated, restless, occasionally disheartened where I am not myself. But so unarguably alive thrillingly animated; unmistakably blissful; So utterly in love.
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Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 10:48 PM UTC
Untitled
i remember you, little earthquake and all those dark nights trembling together that was my favorite season. you and i, we handled each other like porcelain and that made things awkward most of the time. but -- thrillingly so. you first showed me the right way to gather a girl's curves against my own so that they lined up right and smooth and how feminine vertebrae just feel so much silkier and more pleasant under the fingertips. i wish i could open my eyes one more time to your head under my ear and your lips (the prettiest lips) relishing the weight of my name on them: "lady." hey, about that time i touched you -- sorry for startling you. and sorry for backing down so easily. i wish we could have shown each other even more of what it means to feel girls and to feel like a girl, finally a real girl.
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Feb 5, 2010
Feb 5, 2010 at 9:06 PM UTC
"i swear by all flowers"
I walk between life and death, The hours when the days are like Stakes to the nocturnal heart. And I know a walk among tombstones Is a like a fresh death when the earth Is covered with scarlet and scenic Flowers, I can already write my death on The slab as clearly as I see the onset Of the dusk upon my sun. And I know to be dead is but another Interminable word, Like the carnival rides of my childhood, Lost in a crowd but thrillingly unknown. Tonight the stars speak a hope In a new year, and all the years disappear like Geese to the North, Like Gnarls of teeth locked in a mongrels Cry behind enclosed yards. I am ready to die, But instead I will write death and Write a verse to make one think One knows the true beauty of life, Like the insufferably brilliant Deaths of heroes told in myth And legend, A dissolved illusion to the real illustration Caught between worlds of perceptions. I see death on a dance floor, A psalm sung and written by me As my soul whirls the words in spectral Atoms and lost in the momentary Eternity. And I remember I'm a just a man With Latin blood spitting From the womb of my mother. And I am on the same side as my heart, The hourglass fades, The brutal eyes of truth facing me, Fierce and unredeeming, I dance with death, And there is nothing I can do now. I have nothing to prove I was here, Except the poem And even the words will fade. Except the song I wrote for death, It plays over and over And death dances eternal.
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Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 8:46 PM UTC
To Be A Dead Poet...
some words go US Eng, some go UK Eng so inside the word-dividing "[ ]" is the chosen sound KIND OF A WA[ɔ]LKING... EMITTER OF ENDORPHINS INNER-LIGHT-EVOKING VAU[ɔ]LT WITH A FORMi̲DABLY ENORMOUS INFINITELY RISING RESERVE OF THRILLINGLY PO[ɑ]SITIVE EMOTIONS (wa[ɒ]nt some?) THE EPITOME OF DELIGHT & ENJOYMENT —————————————————————————— strolling through some au[ɔ]tumn spo[ɑ]ts sa[ɔ]w some gyals being dolorous stole up o[ɒ]n 'em once I'm close enough I'm exploding with that mind-blowing stuff I've noted 'bove ba[ɔ]wling "lit morning, quit mourning" so ear-splittingly like my ***** just go[ɑ]t torn apart they, seemed to me, were in total sho[ɑ]ck unloading, giving 'em a[ɔ]ll I've go[ɑ]t which got 'em a little overpa[ɑ]cked each of 'em got a lethal cor atta[ɑ]ck overdosed, they dro[ɑ]pped on the ground like ja[ɔ]ws of cha[ɑ]ps at the sight of girls with bo[ɑ]ds that are smoking ho[ɑ]t —————————————————————————— ALSO, TRULY HOPEFUL BORN WITH LO[ɑ]TS OF OFFERS OF EMPLOYMENT IN TERMS OF MOVING FORWARD THE MOTION'S NOTHING LESS THAN HURTLING ALWAYS, EVERY MOMENT MAINTAIN THE FIRST PLACE IN A LIST OF POTENTIAL BOYFRIENDS FOR GIRLS THAT ARE INDECENTLY GORGEOUS AND UNBELIEVABLY JOYOUS lyrically, these word-co[ɑ]mbs come close to what a ***** does performing a ******* [once was told that I have 0 SELF-IRONY]
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Feb 20, 2020
Feb 20, 2020 at 5:03 AM UTC
"Campaign Speech" influenced rhyming [remade into another poem]
I'd do anything In the golden haze of the night Surreal and forgettable Bright lights, strange people It's all so unpredictable So lucid, it's all a dream Crowded, the feel of people It's thrillingly comfortable Gentle touch of a stranger Lips locked tight Lack of meaning allows a strange focus on the physical Hands through hair Hands on skin Seeking always for the spark of an instantaneous attraction Breaking apart, You say farewell Lost in an eternal search for something you don't quite comprehend It goes on like this too long to tell Yet the night seems so short I'd do anything Anything to feel that temporary connection, floating above the city Anything to forget the dawn To forget the apocalypse that is love k.g
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Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 1:51 PM UTC
Tell me something that I'll forget
In blithering torment I shudder. The pain has built to a deafening roar of yawning madness. I huddle as the dry scrabbling claws of endless agony pry at my mind. In desperation I cry, but the pain goes on. No amount of writhing takes me from it. No position more comfortable; No bargains with God, heard. The days wax on relentless and nights go on and on, sleepless. My face is an unrecognizable mask and I forget my meals, my medications.. me. Suddenly, I am free. I escape to my mind in a well etched memory. I am in a treasured moment and I feel no pain. In my madness, there is you. The scent of you is as real as I know you to be- and touching you, I feel such happiness and desire. I live again the first chaste kisses and then, thrillingly, the taste of your lips. Shocks of ecstatic electricity spasm through me, and I feel us meld our minds kaleidescopically. Spinning in all this beauty I fall senseless. At last I sleep. Thank God. I sleep.
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Apr 15, 2011
Apr 15, 2011 at 12:00 AM UTC
The Bitter and the Sweet
the phantoms of you rest thrillingly in my mind they dance in my dreams and scream in my ears taking me back to our time
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Jul 6, 2021
Jul 6, 2021 at 10:44 PM UTC
you
I reminisce on the nights When we unite and write Stunning songs with our artistic lips Secluded in the studio booth Our bodies so soothingly moving And losing it to the heavenly Sound of our voices in concordance Our eyes glistening like downtown Streetlights, upbeat heat, hypnotized minds Our worlds thrillingly traversing In rousing reverberation, feeling like An ocean of waves oscillating In exhilaration, creating indefinite Enchantment with the meshing of our flesh
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Aug 23, 2021
Aug 23, 2021 at 2:54 PM UTC
The Meshing Of Our Flesh
You navigate the landmarks of my body As if you are creating a map Sailing into my calm black waters Let me engulf you like a sea monster would destroy a ship Drown on the shores of my lucid dreams Under the shining crescent moon that is my smile Your tongue is like the tentacles of a sea monster, wrapping around the caves of my back, dragging me into the waters depths Lips forming blooming blossoms of anticipation My body trembles under your magnificence Like a God you look down upon your simpering creation Begging for deliverance, to be thrown into the deepest of oceans Fingers leaving a trail of tingling and goosebumps A vicious yet caring touch With the dangerous pull of a riptide I feel as if you should drag me irretrievably out to sea   You memorise every dimple and every curve as you move your hands lovingly up my body: an explorer who has discovered the new world Absorbed in each other's mouths Your being floods mine Gliding over me like a bird glides on air Clouds in my vision, waves of shock thrillingly pulse through my body like waves ebbing and flowing One and the same the moment lingers Ragged breathing fills my ears like a strong gust of wind Mind spinning like a compass A new land you have conquered KG
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Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 6:43 AM UTC
Embodied Explorer
Like a soft and cool breeze Brushing my hair gently Whispering in my ear softly Holding my hands lovingly Echoing your voice thrillingly Reaching my core throbbingly Leaving my ***** sore badly Frozen heart aches more and more sadly Each moment So much tears pour rushingly Was your presence Real or dream Here I am Unsure Were you really here? Was I dreaming ? After all life is a dream Realize it Right ? Yes now I am sure Life is nothing but A momentarily dreaming ©️Sobbingsoul
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Jan 18, 2019
Jan 18, 2019 at 6:23 PM UTC
Are you a dream ??
Scrambled colors rearranged in my background Sacred words that make tears fall Silent whispering in your absence Wither your leaves turning them brown Burning pages of journals from which you once cried on Leads to finding blank pages to write new endeavors to carry on I am constantly my greatest taunt Daring to thrillingly free fall But you can fall if you want to If you can't control how far You'll get lost within your walls And forget just who you are Troubles will stay with you until your soul has found Maybe it'll be found wandering around
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Nov 12, 2020
Nov 12, 2020 at 1:31 PM UTC
Wandering Soul
lovely questions, lovely quiet them words, soap bubble-burst, in my mind’s eyes, but no finger pointing, this the way to go, no, *here lies the poem, you need be writing, here, buy the poem, release belief, be the relief* thinking past loving, glory, pain, depths plumbing, farewells, opening gambits, unplanned strategy, first move, drugged highs grand expectations chase, hunt, capture, surrender, regroup, defeat skip to only endings directly, where’s the fun in that, no, lovely must be earned, only years later cannot recall, name, why we separated, but each, her face, cut, grooved, in the cells, how I stroked her skin, thrillingly finger’s cells keep memories in cold storage, summoning with great and minimal difficulty, reversal atmospheres, breathing the air we shared, oh god, oh god, how, could I have let the times escape, each lover lost, unforgiven lovely interrogatories, each, a cup, half full of changelings, the passions expended, losses unintended, greater fool, the chameleon fooled only himself, each memory a blessing, a curse, and when sleep darkens the eyelids, the tears pool no peace I find, the wetness caresses both the closure, and the retelling, drowns me  in measuring cups of who I was, who I am, and demands do better, do it all over again, only with lovely quiet, with tenderest kindness and guilt clings, hope lingers but sleep arrives as I count my sheep, repeating whispering of “do better, be better, do better, do better, be better and better, and better still 5:08am 1/14/2020
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Jan 25, 2020
Jan 25, 2020 at 3:13 PM UTC
lovely questions, lovely quiet
lovely questions, lovely quiet them words, soap bubble-burst, in my mind’s eyes, but no finger pointing, this the way to go, no, *here lies the poem, you need be writing, here, buy the poem, release belief, be the relief* thinking past loving, glory, pain, depths plumbing, farewells, opening gambits, unplanned strategy, first move, drugged highs grand expectations chase, hunt, capture, surrender, regroup, defeat skip to only endings directly, where’s the fun in that, no, lovely must be earned, only years later cannot recall, name, why we separated, but each, her face, cut, grooved, in the cells, how I stroked her skin, thrillingly finger’s cells keep memories in cold storage, summoning with great and minimal difficulty, reversal atmospheres, breathing the air we shared, oh god, oh god, how, could I have let the times escape, each lover lost, unforgiven lovely interrogatories, each, a cup, half full of changelings, the passions expended, losses unintended, greater fool, the chameleon fooled only himself, each memory a blessing, a curse, and when sleep darkens the eyelids, the tears pool no peace I find, the wetness caresses both the closure, and the retelling, drowns me  in measuring cups of who I was, who I am, and demands do better, do it all over again, only with lovely quiet, with tenderest kindness and guilt clings, hope lingers but sleep arrives as I count my sheep, repeating whispering of “do better, be better, do better, do better, be better and better, and better still 5:08am 1/14/2020
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30
Serene and sylvan, Thrillingly simple, Living a life with Nature’s Blessings: Friendly and pure, Smiling with dimple, Spontaneously right, No need for guessing. Connected to Source Not just the surface, Everything’s easy, Nothing is pressing. Thrillingly simple, Blessed and Blessed. Thrillingly simple, Blessed and Blessing.
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Jul 7, 2019
Jul 7, 2019 at 7:14 AM UTC
Arcadian