"tings" poems - Hello Poetry

"tings" poems

With wings at rest longer than its tail My hobby waits. Great bird of creation, Where do you come from? As I sit and mull You take flight to and from places I may Never know, Where are you taking me, Great spirit on high, far, farther-ring with light And the wind, which streams then to delirium Heights? I am bled and I am torn. Must I Suffer in my soaring? Your clutch, tings The sky, pierce the cloud, my hobby hovers, I dream of coronations, talons to my head— A crown of thorns.

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Jul 28, 2012

Jul 28, 2012 at 4:13 PM UTC

With wings at rest longer than its tail My hobby waits. Great bird of creation, Where do you come from? As I sit and mull You take flight to and from places I may Never know, Where are you taking me, Great spirit on high, far, farther-ring with light And the wind, which streams then to delirium Heights? I am bled and I am torn. Must I Suffer in my soaring? Your clutch, tings The sky, pierce the cloud, my hobby hovers, I dream of coronations, talons to my head— A crown of thorns.

Continue reading...

Some days yu know, mi just don't andastan How a man can do di tings him do, an see himself a man. Him seh dat god give im good sense a will and a soul to know right ting fram wrang ting, to know pit from pothole. But im covet an steal an shed blood like a beast. Then im walk inna church and pray god give im peace. Is a human condition an a weakness a flesh Is flaw in im naycha, a thorn in him breast. But we human creecha, ought betta than best. Ought draw a distinction from fish and from fowl. Ought rise above avarice , greed and the rest. But sometime I feel sure that the writing on wall. will come to fruition and mankind will fall. Is a small part of hu-man sunk deep in we core what comes up and sprout wings and carry us shore. Is that thing there, part spirit, part will, part divine. What pull us from struction then skitter, then soar. Then beat wings in hubris like Icarus lore.

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Sep 24, 2012

Sep 24, 2012 at 3:42 AM UTC

geno-cattouse-1

Icarus In Pidgeon

Some days yu know, mi just don't andastan How a man can do di tings him do, an see himself a man. Him seh dat god give im good sense a will and a soul to know right ting fram wrang ting, to know pit from pothole. But im covet an steal an shed blood like a beast. Then im walk inna church and pray god give im peace. Is a human condition an a weakness a flesh Is flaw in im naycha, a thorn in him breast. But we human creecha, ought betta than best. Ought draw a distinction from fish and from fowl. Ought rise above avarice , greed and the rest. But sometime I feel sure that the writing on wall. will come to fruition and mankind will fall. Is a small part of hu-man sunk deep in we core what comes up and sprout wings and carry us shore. Is that thing there, part spirit, part will, part divine. What pull us from struction then skitter, then soar. Then beat wings in hubris like Icarus lore.

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Monday's vision's fair of face in the evenings the plasma rays shine bright until seen through a window at a distance ******* energy from cables to my mind blinding into happily blinkered existence Tuesday's vision's full of grace guilt makes me pull the covertous shutters down being the observer is peep peeping embarrassing being observed pays to add overtising shows on it's so good not stirring when it's too disturbing Wednesday's vision's full of woe I am wilfully weak and slack on the couch enjoying not having to speak or think about being set up to get upset by nothing much the sights flow seamless except when I blink Thursday's vision has far to go I would be there now but for one glitch one flaw in the network's mesmeric sell shared channels free as birds but rich beyond the dragnet of any script's sequel Friday's vision's loving and giving in the smallest way it's electric beyond measure distractions demanding attention with a hush willing the constant whirling on with fresh images look-look euphoric hooks to reel me in with a rush Saturday's vision works hard for a living and I'm wrapped in the dream of existing by a simple drama of a varnished toenail extending to a click the vanish going going the way of Ting Ting Cao your magnetic stimulation of the transcranial kicks in and in my scrambled vision I saw me touch your assimilation on redial absorbing Sunday entire and raw footage on display a draw so real the pay channels dropped their jaw surreal

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Jul 19, 2014

Jul 19, 2014 at 1:02 PM UTC

anthony-williams

7 Days of Couch Toes & TV Tings

Monday's vision's fair of face in the evenings the plasma rays shine bright until seen through a window at a distance ******* energy from cables to my mind blinding into happily blinkered existence Tuesday's vision's full of grace guilt makes me pull the covertous shutters down being the observer is peep peeping embarrassing being observed pays to add overtising shows on it's so good not stirring when it's too disturbing Wednesday's vision's full of woe I am wilfully weak and slack on the couch enjoying not having to speak or think about being set up to get upset by nothing much the sights flow seamless except when I blink Thursday's vision has far to go I would be there now but for one glitch one flaw in the network's mesmeric sell shared channels free as birds but rich beyond the dragnet of any script's sequel Friday's vision's loving and giving in the smallest way it's electric beyond measure distractions demanding attention with a hush willing the constant whirling on with fresh images look-look euphoric hooks to reel me in with a rush Saturday's vision works hard for a living and I'm wrapped in the dream of existing by a simple drama of a varnished toenail extending to a click the vanish going going the way of Ting Ting Cao your magnetic stimulation of the transcranial kicks in and in my scrambled vision I saw me touch your assimilation on redial absorbing Sunday entire and raw footage on display a draw so real the pay channels dropped their jaw surreal

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So I took her to the river believing she was a maiden, but she already had a husband. It was on St. James night and almost as if I was obliged to. The lanterns went out and the crickets lightened up. In the farthest street corners I touched her sleeping ******* and they opened to me suddenly like spikes of hyacinth. The starch of her petticoat sounded in my ears like a piece of silk rent by ten knives. Without silver light on their foilage the trees had grown larger and a horizon of dogs barked very far from the river. Past the blackberries, the reeds and the hawthorne underneath her cluster of hair I made a hollow in the earth I took off my tie, she too off her dress. I, my belt with the revolver. She, her four bodices. Nor nard nor mother-o-pearl have skin so fine, nor does glass with silver shine with such brillance. Her thighs slipped away from me like startled fish, half full of fire, half full of cold. That night I ran on the best of roads mounted on a nacre mare without bridle stirrups. As a man, I won't repeat the tings she said to me. The light of understanding has made me more discreet. Smeared with sand and kisses I took her away from the river. The sowrds of the liles battled with the air. I behaved like what I am, like a proper gypsy. I gave her a large sewing basket, of straw-colored satin, but I did not fall in love for although she had a husband she told me she as a maiden when I took her to the river.

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2.2k

Federico García Lorca

The Faithless Wife

So I took her to the river believing she was a maiden, but she already had a husband. It was on St. James night and almost as if I was obliged to. The lanterns went out and the crickets lightened up. In the farthest street corners I touched her sleeping ******* and they opened to me suddenly like spikes of hyacinth. The starch of her petticoat sounded in my ears like a piece of silk rent by ten knives. Without silver light on their foilage the trees had grown larger and a horizon of dogs barked very far from the river. Past the blackberries, the reeds and the hawthorne underneath her cluster of hair I made a hollow in the earth I took off my tie, she too off her dress. I, my belt with the revolver. She, her four bodices. Nor nard nor mother-o-pearl have skin so fine, nor does glass with silver shine with such brillance. Her thighs slipped away from me like startled fish, half full of fire, half full of cold. That night I ran on the best of roads mounted on a nacre mare without bridle stirrups. As a man, I won't repeat the tings she said to me. The light of understanding has made me more discreet. Smeared with sand and kisses I took her away from the river. The sowrds of the liles battled with the air. I behaved like what I am, like a proper gypsy. I gave her a large sewing basket, of straw-colored satin, but I did not fall in love for although she had a husband she told me she as a maiden when I took her to the river.

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With wings at rest longer than its tail My hobby waits. Great bird of creation, Where do you come from? As I sit and mull You take flight to and from places I may Never know, Where are you taking me, Great spirit on high, far, farther-ring with light And the wind, which streams then to delirium Heights? I am bled and I am torn. Must I Suffer in my soaring? Your clutch, tings The sky, pierce the cloud, my hobby hovers, I dream of coronations, talons to my head— A crown of thorns.

0

Nov 14, 2012

Nov 14, 2012 at 6:46 PM UTC

With wings at rest longer than its tail My hobby waits. Great bird of creation, Where do you come from? As I sit and mull You take flight to and from places I may Never know, Where are you taking me, Great spirit on high, far, farther-ring with light And the wind, which streams then to delirium Heights? I am bled and I am torn. Must I Suffer in my soaring? Your clutch, tings The sky, pierce the cloud, my hobby hovers, I dream of coronations, talons to my head— A crown of thorns.

Continue reading...

With wings at rest longer than its tail My hobby waits. Great bird of creation, Where do you come from? As I sit and mull You take flight to and from places I may Never know, Where are you taking me, Great spirit on high, far, farther-ring with light And the wind, which streams then to delirium Heights? I am bled and I am torn. Must I Suffer in my soaring? Your clutch, tings The sky, pierce the cloud, my hobby hovers, I dream of coronations, talons to my head— A crown of thorns.

0

Sep 5, 2013

Sep 5, 2013 at 1:26 PM UTC

With wings at rest longer than its tail My hobby waits. Great bird of creation, Where do you come from? As I sit and mull You take flight to and from places I may Never know, Where are you taking me, Great spirit on high, far, farther-ring with light And the wind, which streams then to delirium Heights? I am bled and I am torn. Must I Suffer in my soaring? Your clutch, tings The sky, pierce the cloud, my hobby hovers, I dream of coronations, talons to my head— A crown of thorns.

Continue reading...

1. Not knowing my future 2. Owing money 3. Trees being deforested 4. My parents 5. Youth unemployment 6. Klu klux **** 7. Usher being alive 8. Stupidity being rampant. 9. Her 10. Irregular heartbeats. 11. Time being a factor 12. Silly tings 13. Brain aneurysms 14. Losing 15. Empathy 16. Superman 17. Staying past due 18. Every one being rude 19. Discussion isn't important Read the first letter of every word :^)

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Dec 2, 2014

Dec 2, 2014 at 3:04 PM UTC

da-real-reggae-mon

1. Not knowing my future 2. Owing money 3. Trees being deforested 4. My parents 5. Youth unemployment 6. Klu klux **** 7. Usher being alive 8. Stupidity being rampant. 9. Her 10. Irregular heartbeats. 11. Time being a factor 12. Silly tings 13. Brain aneurysms 14. Losing 15. Empathy 16. Superman 17. Staying past due 18. Every one being rude 19. Discussion isn't important Read the first letter of every word :^)

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With wings at rest longer than its tail My hobby waits. Great bird of creation, Where do you come from? As I sit and mull You take flight to and from places I may Never know, Where are you taking me, Great spirit on high, far, farther-ring with light And the wind, which streams then to delirium Heights? I am bled and I am torn. Must I Suffer in my soaring? Your clutch, tings The sky, pierce the cloud, my hobby hovers, I dream of coronations, talons to my head— A crown of thorns.

0

Mar 25, 2013

Mar 25, 2013 at 10:23 PM UTC

With wings at rest longer than its tail My hobby waits. Great bird of creation, Where do you come from? As I sit and mull You take flight to and from places I may Never know, Where are you taking me, Great spirit on high, far, farther-ring with light And the wind, which streams then to delirium Heights? I am bled and I am torn. Must I Suffer in my soaring? Your clutch, tings The sky, pierce the cloud, my hobby hovers, I dream of coronations, talons to my head— A crown of thorns.

Continue reading...

ah hear da dog a snorin and da heavy breathin a da wolf ah feel da wind a blowin and da chill dats brought in with it ah see da tings dey creepin to da shadows where dey creach ah hear da turtle skootin to da den for shelta from da storm ah feel a mighty shakin comin out chru da broken ground ah see a terrible storm a brewin in da distance waitin out its time ah watch as tings dey change an no always for da best ah see da way dey act when dey done know dey bein watched ah know da tings dey be doin now dey tink meh watchin ah see dey know, dey change dey tings dey do ah feal da change she comin and comin for ya know dey change ah can na keep a runnin away des tings ah went an run to far meh guess is da was da right ting ta do meh goin no betray da love dey sho meh meh tinks ah done right by him ah wont betray ah can feel dah silance an da tension in da air ah know da time she comin for meh but ah hope she no to soon ah see whas goin on an fallin down around meh ah no goin to pretend no more, des tings bother meh so much ah no goin to hold my tongue when ah've been offend'd ah no goin ta take tings da wrong way any more too much time be wasted ah got ta find where ah can stole away from da waves of questions raised ah feel des tings but can na change dem no more than change shes wanted ah hear da dog a snorin gettin after chasen tails ah hear da turtle skootin to da den for winter warmth ah know how what wrong ah've done has come back round ah can see she been cryin she wares it on her sleeve ah can see u no more smilin tryin headed for da bed ah know da whistle ah hear come runnin o da trouble, ah stay out

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Oct 28, 2010

Oct 28, 2010 at 4:59 AM UTC

derick-van-dusen

Da **** Dog He Snore

ah hear da dog a snorin and da heavy breathin a da wolf ah feel da wind a blowin and da chill dats brought in with it ah see da tings dey creepin to da shadows where dey creach ah hear da turtle skootin to da den for shelta from da storm ah feel a mighty shakin comin out chru da broken ground ah see a terrible storm a brewin in da distance waitin out its time ah watch as tings dey change an no always for da best ah see da way dey act when dey done know dey bein watched ah know da tings dey be doin now dey tink meh watchin ah see dey know, dey change dey tings dey do ah feal da change she comin and comin for ya know dey change ah can na keep a runnin away des tings ah went an run to far meh guess is da was da right ting ta do meh goin no betray da love dey sho meh meh tinks ah done right by him ah wont betray ah can feel dah silance an da tension in da air ah know da time she comin for meh but ah hope she no to soon ah see whas goin on an fallin down around meh ah no goin to pretend no more, des tings bother meh so much ah no goin to hold my tongue when ah've been offend'd ah no goin ta take tings da wrong way any more too much time be wasted ah got ta find where ah can stole away from da waves of questions raised ah feel des tings but can na change dem no more than change shes wanted ah hear da dog a snorin gettin after chasen tails ah hear da turtle skootin to da den for winter warmth ah know how what wrong ah've done has come back round ah can see she been cryin she wares it on her sleeve ah can see u no more smilin tryin headed for da bed ah know da whistle ah hear come runnin o da trouble, ah stay out

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Oi, you der! Oy tink you 'ave a problem Oy tink you and me 'ave tings to seddle Been moonts now we 'aven' gobbed, Moonts now you stoi shuh in It's doone now, lahd. We ar' doone. Cheers.

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Apr 9, 2014

Apr 9, 2014 at 12:20 AM UTC

Oi, you der! Oy tink you 'ave a problem Oy tink you and me 'ave tings to seddle Been moonts now we 'aven' gobbed, Moonts now you stoi shuh in It's doone now, lahd. We ar' doone. Cheers.

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Me like a likkle of what ya got 'Cause I a zero not got a lot I talks to me pastor im a serious Judah rasta. But me lives alone in this zone I got to find I a way back home. Me know me got life a wee bit wrong And me never listen to da Masters song. But now I got I a brand new deal Me praise Jah 'cause im is real. I gwan to church and say me tings Jah he answer......me telephone rings. Hello who im dat? and im say it is I de righteous cat Den I fall down and me tears dey come But im say rise up man you is my son. Den me knows dat dis is da time Me knows me faith is bang on da line. Jah Jah im see me right Yea even thru de dark of de night Im me saviour me know dat now Im smooth da lines off from my brow. Jah Jah rule. Jah is cool.

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May 31, 2013

May 31, 2013 at 2:58 PM UTC

john-edward-smallshaw

Jah..'im speke many language

Me like a likkle of what ya got 'Cause I a zero not got a lot I talks to me pastor im a serious Judah rasta. But me lives alone in this zone I got to find I a way back home. Me know me got life a wee bit wrong And me never listen to da Masters song. But now I got I a brand new deal Me praise Jah 'cause im is real. I gwan to church and say me tings Jah he answer......me telephone rings. Hello who im dat? and im say it is I de righteous cat Den I fall down and me tears dey come But im say rise up man you is my son. Den me knows dat dis is da time Me knows me faith is bang on da line. Jah Jah im see me right Yea even thru de dark of de night Im me saviour me know dat now Im smooth da lines off from my brow. Jah Jah rule. Jah is cool.

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What are blessed tings tingle in my toes tha kush brings A ting of kings, my heart springs she's a beauty my reggae boys left our toys at tha pad lookin for baities, reggaes back, we glad ringin in tha night we bring quite a sight we sing that **** just right With that funk-a-delic swaged so bright this **** right here, a rappers delight

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Apr 24, 2015

Apr 24, 2015 at 6:32 PM UTC

da-real-reggae-mon

A rappers delight

What are blessed tings tingle in my toes tha kush brings A ting of kings, my heart springs she's a beauty my reggae boys left our toys at tha pad lookin for baities, reggaes back, we glad ringin in tha night we bring quite a sight we sing that **** just right With that funk-a-delic swaged so bright this **** right here, a rappers delight

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With Sweet words that capture my essence I'll believe in you within your presence clouds fill the depths of my mind Best regaurds to the fact that im now blind But I don't care, not right now Surely I'll be regretful tomorrow? Just hold me till it's too late if you're willing Say the tings that make me smile Even if its for a short while Make me forget that this was a mistake Let me think that its me that you want Just me Forgive me, i'm in to deep Though i've tried treading in shallow waters You've sadly almost caught me, was it easy? I struggle to get loose Your grip intoxicating Breath like chloroform Those soft touches burn, please don't stop my insides crawl with amusement and fear captivates my soul Though I know nothing good lasts an eternity I cling to this moment ; never letting it fade Forever burned into the side of my brain When you kissed me with velevet

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Jun 20, 2013

Jun 20, 2013 at 1:11 PM UTC

With Sweet words that capture my essence I'll believe in you within your presence clouds fill the depths of my mind Best regaurds to the fact that im now blind But I don't care, not right now Surely I'll be regretful tomorrow? Just hold me till it's too late if you're willing Say the tings that make me smile Even if its for a short while Make me forget that this was a mistake Let me think that its me that you want Just me Forgive me, i'm in to deep Though i've tried treading in shallow waters You've sadly almost caught me, was it easy? I struggle to get loose Your grip intoxicating Breath like chloroform Those soft touches burn, please don't stop my insides crawl with amusement and fear captivates my soul Though I know nothing good lasts an eternity I cling to this moment ; never letting it fade Forever burned into the side of my brain When you kissed me with velevet

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Me like a likkle of what ya got 'Cause I a zero not got a lot I talks to me pastor 'im a serious Judah rasta. But me lives alone in this zone I got to find I a way back home. Me know me got life a wee bit wrong And me never listen to da Masters song. But now I got I a brand new deal Me praise Jah 'cause 'im is real. I gwan to church and say me tings Jah he answer......me telephone rings. Hello who' im dat? and 'im say it is I de righteous cat Den I fall down and me tears dey come But 'im say rise up man you is my son. Den me knows dat dis is da time Me knows me faith is bang on da line. Jah Jah 'im see me right Yea even thru de dark of de night 'im me saviour me know dat now 'im smooth da lines off from my brow. Jah Jah rule. Jah is cool.

0

May 31, 2013

May 31, 2013 at 3:00 PM UTC

john-edward-smallshaw

Jah..'im speke many language

Me like a likkle of what ya got 'Cause I a zero not got a lot I talks to me pastor 'im a serious Judah rasta. But me lives alone in this zone I got to find I a way back home. Me know me got life a wee bit wrong And me never listen to da Masters song. But now I got I a brand new deal Me praise Jah 'cause 'im is real. I gwan to church and say me tings Jah he answer......me telephone rings. Hello who' im dat? and 'im say it is I de righteous cat Den I fall down and me tears dey come But 'im say rise up man you is my son. Den me knows dat dis is da time Me knows me faith is bang on da line. Jah Jah 'im see me right Yea even thru de dark of de night 'im me saviour me know dat now 'im smooth da lines off from my brow. Jah Jah rule. Jah is cool.

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"You are patient" She said. I'd never heard those words I've always been the one to jump the gun Its really hard for me To sit back in my seat But I'll wait Don't worry I'll wait You really must be special Because I don't have patience Its something for me to learn And I'm alright with waiting. Just hope you appreciate The tings I do for you Cause baby you so special That I'll be patient.

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Nov 22, 2013

Nov 22, 2013 at 6:11 PM UTC

andy-kittysmasher

"You are patient" She said. I'd never heard those words I've always been the one to jump the gun Its really hard for me To sit back in my seat But I'll wait Don't worry I'll wait You really must be special Because I don't have patience Its something for me to learn And I'm alright with waiting. Just hope you appreciate The tings I do for you Cause baby you so special That I'll be patient.

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The first rays of sun falling over the pots kept on the windowsill I can hear the flowers stretching out after a nice, cosy sleepy fill. "Good morning little ones", I wish while watering them for the day, I can sense them glee, "You too, Mr. Nice Guy", I imagine them say. Getting ready for a bath, I could feel cold droplets of water splashing over my body. My new soap of lemongrass, smells refreshing. The toaster tings with two pieces out, And a bowl of milk with fruit loops. Getting dressed for work, tying the tie, Slipping the leather belt through the hoops. A fresh pair of socks near my shoes, so shiny, I could see my reflection, I think I forgot to comb my hair, but I am perfect with this imperfection. Tap my car remote and it unlocks, I sit in it comfortably, rev it up a little Start driving on the road, straight on but the distance seems abysmal. It suddenly starts to darken in front, The chills hitting me suddenly, I wake up from my dream, still in dark, feeling cold and in agony.

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Feb 22, 2019

Feb 22, 2019 at 10:23 PM UTC

The first rays of sun falling over the pots kept on the windowsill I can hear the flowers stretching out after a nice, cosy sleepy fill. "Good morning little ones", I wish while watering them for the day, I can sense them glee, "You too, Mr. Nice Guy", I imagine them say. Getting ready for a bath, I could feel cold droplets of water splashing over my body. My new soap of lemongrass, smells refreshing. The toaster tings with two pieces out, And a bowl of milk with fruit loops. Getting dressed for work, tying the tie, Slipping the leather belt through the hoops. A fresh pair of socks near my shoes, so shiny, I could see my reflection, I think I forgot to comb my hair, but I am perfect with this imperfection. Tap my car remote and it unlocks, I sit in it comfortably, rev it up a little Start driving on the road, straight on but the distance seems abysmal. It suddenly starts to darken in front, The chills hitting me suddenly, I wake up from my dream, still in dark, feeling cold and in agony.

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Around the bend, baggage claim. The carousel comes around again. I try to find the ones my own, I see the first as it comes down. This first one, small, so quaint, so plain. Carries all of my pain...tings. The second slowly drifts across, I'm glad that this one was not lost. A medium size bag with a tiny hole, It carries the remnants of my soul..dier memorabilia. Two more bags I await, the next one appears at the gate. Another smaller bag that is beat up, and tattered within. If opened you would find all my sin...icle comics that I collect. As I wait for my final bag. Hours pass as times drags. I ask where it may have gone, I'm told it was lost before the plane had flown. Saddened with this news alas. For that final baggage held my past...els.

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Sep 28, 2015

Sep 28, 2015 at 10:10 PM UTC

ManicBrilliance

Around the bend, baggage claim. The carousel comes around again. I try to find the ones my own, I see the first as it comes down. This first one, small, so quaint, so plain. Carries all of my pain...tings. The second slowly drifts across, I'm glad that this one was not lost. A medium size bag with a tiny hole, It carries the remnants of my soul..dier memorabilia. Two more bags I await, the next one appears at the gate. Another smaller bag that is beat up, and tattered within. If opened you would find all my sin...icle comics that I collect. As I wait for my final bag. Hours pass as times drags. I ask where it may have gone, I'm told it was lost before the plane had flown. Saddened with this news alas. For that final baggage held my past...els.

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it is cold then hot so quickly it is tough it is hard but melts with heat it tings it taps and knocks about the surfaces of the kitchen worktop these are properties that stir tea it is cold then hot so quickly it is cool it is calm but bends under pressure it sings it raps and talks about the textures of existence these are properties that stir me

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Jan 7, 2018

Jan 7, 2018 at 7:09 AM UTC

it is cold then hot so quickly it is tough it is hard but melts with heat it tings it taps and knocks about the surfaces of the kitchen worktop these are properties that stir tea it is cold then hot so quickly it is cool it is calm but bends under pressure it sings it raps and talks about the textures of existence these are properties that stir me

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****** up and falling fast I'm reminded that even now all I think about is you. Are you listening? Listening now? Aching, shaking, asking for no one but you. Tings ringing, remember much as I'd like to I can't sing something beautiful, Beautiful. You hate the idea but I wonder how I look to you. Want to rest my head in the roots of your omnipresence. Fill my heart and I'll be the inside of your silent arms. Call me breaking, call me giving up and falling in. Find me close and I promise I'll find a way to be closer still.

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Oct 30, 2013

Oct 30, 2013 at 3:40 AM UTC

Nostalgic Slurs

****** up and falling fast I'm reminded that even now all I think about is you. Are you listening? Listening now? Aching, shaking, asking for no one but you. Tings ringing, remember much as I'd like to I can't sing something beautiful, Beautiful. You hate the idea but I wonder how I look to you. Want to rest my head in the roots of your omnipresence. Fill my heart and I'll be the inside of your silent arms. Call me breaking, call me giving up and falling in. Find me close and I promise I'll find a way to be closer still.

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she's in the whoosh feel her span through time it's all relative across dimensions and into space bigger on the inside smaller to the seeing eye walk around her you'll see but step inside and the venture begins she's an old girl stuck in the form of boxy blue past her prime yet still as sturdy she'll dematerialize at will speeding through rifts explore her corridors and discover her anew enter other realms, pasts and futures she's been at the beginning and to the end of time her companions many yet the one who's steady is a mysterious man one called Dr but no one knows Who except her for they've been together through ages only to get to say hello toward the end she's a reliable old girl who's traveled many worlds she's seen thing and heard tings you'll know her by the sound of her whoosh as she comes and goes.

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Jan 12, 2015

Jan 12, 2015 at 4:45 PM UTC

she's in the whoosh feel her span through time it's all relative across dimensions and into space bigger on the inside smaller to the seeing eye walk around her you'll see but step inside and the venture begins she's an old girl stuck in the form of boxy blue past her prime yet still as sturdy she'll dematerialize at will speeding through rifts explore her corridors and discover her anew enter other realms, pasts and futures she's been at the beginning and to the end of time her companions many yet the one who's steady is a mysterious man one called Dr but no one knows Who except her for they've been together through ages only to get to say hello toward the end she's a reliable old girl who's traveled many worlds she's seen thing and heard tings you'll know her by the sound of her whoosh as she comes and goes.

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Abjure the bones broken in, The first lift frissoned by The moving trees slain on the shift, Rivers and risen flowers cut, My statuary lurches betide The nap of bent wing saluting. My aviary is a fluttering bed, The scattered head REMs my flight, My feet in cloud extend for landings Tings the belled bound legging. My falconer bows with pride In the stall bent wings stooping. My clawed creature glides for only The pitching sun or shining moon And my flights execution, the hooded Head, end trails my falconer. My days, fowl to the lunar kite, Assail the winds open wound.

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Jul 12, 2012

Jul 12, 2012 at 8:50 PM UTC

Abjure the bones broken in, The first lift frissoned by The moving trees slain on the shift, Rivers and risen flowers cut, My statuary lurches betide The nap of bent wing saluting. My aviary is a fluttering bed, The scattered head REMs my flight, My feet in cloud extend for landings Tings the belled bound legging. My falconer bows with pride In the stall bent wings stooping. My clawed creature glides for only The pitching sun or shining moon And my flights execution, the hooded Head, end trails my falconer. My days, fowl to the lunar kite, Assail the winds open wound.

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would you rather feel the sting of somebody not remembering you when they could not leave your mind even if you wanted them too? or forgooten, and glad that you were because of the awful tings youv'e done? or would you want to be recalled and here the dissapointment in their voice as to what they remember you as? or would you want to be recalled for the only good things you'vr done making your whole life, look like something out of an all to sweet fairytail?

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Dec 20, 2012

Dec 20, 2012 at 3:43 PM UTC

forgotton or recalled?

would you rather feel the sting of somebody not remembering you when they could not leave your mind even if you wanted them too? or forgooten, and glad that you were because of the awful tings youv'e done? or would you want to be recalled and here the dissapointment in their voice as to what they remember you as? or would you want to be recalled for the only good things you'vr done making your whole life, look like something out of an all to sweet fairytail?

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unspared during my travels prepared by an exchanging world of appearances i came to this place at the base of a hill of course fell a whipped traveller i am by the vital Spring weather i am met welcomed a night of shelter led the way by a lace of monks discreetly i am put up residence bowed into an alcove and left be sun settles gloaming bleeding out into the night the night moves on steeping it plays on my solitude a temple of awakening freed from need of sleep plush in the gloom of this unfamiliar lodge pulses lune from the lamp calling me to something family suckle peculiar flares of incense my heart at pace gusted by the lungs gushed with a nourishing charge of remedy i stand lightly i take a stroll timid subtle bells quake little tings under a propelled circulation engine utters quivering the air Sudden : it buckles yawn out from under a gallows the spaces between the temple walls drop away fathomless theatre opens maw barriers have dissipated crumple i am a mite short of distress held in keeping shallow maintaining a sensible program i give out breath hesitant... and gratefully retrieve i stand weakly with care this is temple me, a guest my travellers bed roll remains stowed : i am a fool to be swallowed a courtyard compounds this pressed element of nature i reached its edge this building acts the amplifier a spiritual device of development bade by hemorrhaging darkness i wade beyond any lamplight each step taken when the tide pulls it mottled perfumes now exhaust in punches (powering from the baying boundaries) look up a royalty floods across the night sky cropped by the yard rooves chants and bells eddy about my ears pants and tones mediate worship hounds the clock i finally do what is best follow myself back the way i make up my bed (retire or as a shade i'll find my way between the walls and flourish) chuckle i regain valued humor i concentrate close eyes and slow my heart once again make peace in this temple of strobe tomorrow i'll face agricultural land and the sunlight i'll continue my selfish travels bedroll bound to my pack my pack tight to my back i shall weep and honour the departed as i continue this little i have learned

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Jan 17, 2022

Jan 17, 2022 at 7:11 PM UTC

unspared during my travels prepared by an exchanging world of appearances i came to this place at the base of a hill of course fell a whipped traveller i am by the vital Spring weather i am met welcomed a night of shelter led the way by a lace of monks discreetly i am put up residence bowed into an alcove and left be sun settles gloaming bleeding out into the night the night moves on steeping it plays on my solitude a temple of awakening freed from need of sleep plush in the gloom of this unfamiliar lodge pulses lune from the lamp calling me to something family suckle peculiar flares of incense my heart at pace gusted by the lungs gushed with a nourishing charge of remedy i stand lightly i take a stroll timid subtle bells quake little tings under a propelled circulation engine utters quivering the air Sudden : it buckles yawn out from under a gallows the spaces between the temple walls drop away fathomless theatre opens maw barriers have dissipated crumple i am a mite short of distress held in keeping shallow maintaining a sensible program i give out breath hesitant... and gratefully retrieve i stand weakly with care this is temple me, a guest my travellers bed roll remains stowed : i am a fool to be swallowed a courtyard compounds this pressed element of nature i reached its edge this building acts the amplifier a spiritual device of development bade by hemorrhaging darkness i wade beyond any lamplight each step taken when the tide pulls it mottled perfumes now exhaust in punches (powering from the baying boundaries) look up a royalty floods across the night sky cropped by the yard rooves chants and bells eddy about my ears pants and tones mediate worship hounds the clock i finally do what is best follow myself back the way i make up my bed (retire or as a shade i'll find my way between the walls and flourish) chuckle i regain valued humor i concentrate close eyes and slow my heart once again make peace in this temple of strobe tomorrow i'll face agricultural land and the sunlight i'll continue my selfish travels bedroll bound to my pack my pack tight to my back i shall weep and honour the departed as i continue this little i have learned

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. With wings at rest longer than its tail My hobby waits. Great bird of creation, Where do you come from? As I sit and mull You take flight to and from places I may Never know, Where are you taking me, Great spirit on high, far, farther-ring with light And the wind, which streams then to delirium Heights? I am bled and I am torn. Must I Suffer in my soaring? Your clutch, tings The sky, pierce the cloud, my hobby hovers, I dream of coronations, talons to my head— A crown of thorns.

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Oct 19, 2016

Oct 19, 2016 at 7:10 PM UTC

. With wings at rest longer than its tail My hobby waits. Great bird of creation, Where do you come from? As I sit and mull You take flight to and from places I may Never know, Where are you taking me, Great spirit on high, far, farther-ring with light And the wind, which streams then to delirium Heights? I am bled and I am torn. Must I Suffer in my soaring? Your clutch, tings The sky, pierce the cloud, my hobby hovers, I dream of coronations, talons to my head— A crown of thorns.

Continue reading...

Abjure the bones broken in, The first lift frissoned by The moving trees slain on the shift, Rivers and risen flowers cut, My statuary lurches betide The nap of bent wing saluting. My aviary is a fluttering bed, The scattered head REMs my flight, My feet in cloud extend for landings Tings the belled bound legging. My falconer bows with pride In the stall bent wings stooping. My clawed creature glides for only The pitching sun or shining moon And my flights execution, the hooded Head, end trails my falconer. My days, fowl to the lunar kite, Assail the winds open wound.

0

Jun 29, 2013

Jun 29, 2013 at 11:41 AM UTC

Abjure the bones broken in, The first lift frissoned by The moving trees slain on the shift, Rivers and risen flowers cut, My statuary lurches betide The nap of bent wing saluting. My aviary is a fluttering bed, The scattered head REMs my flight, My feet in cloud extend for landings Tings the belled bound legging. My falconer bows with pride In the stall bent wings stooping. My clawed creature glides for only The pitching sun or shining moon And my flights execution, the hooded Head, end trails my falconer. My days, fowl to the lunar kite, Assail the winds open wound.

Continue reading...