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"transformations" poems
Darkness, it falls like a massive leaden shroud Over this quiet valley as the dusk  infects the sky Pleasant faces fade into the shadows of the night As the demons of the dead and dreaming come on out to play Howling at the moon Swarming through the streets Lurking in the shadows On this night of Halloween Carve the faces, light the candles Offerings must be made In the cold October moonlight To the Phantoms of Samhain If you fail If these ghouls are not appeased You will be... Taken by the spirits of the dead!!! The Tempter's Chosen And kin to the Grim Reaper Children of the Darkest Night Steal mortal souls to feast on Ghastly transformations Amidst accursed corpses We are possessed by the evil of tonight's demonic forces! Carve the faces, light the candles Offerings must be made In the cold October moonlight To the Phantoms of Samhain If you fail If these ghouls are not appeased You will be... Taken by the spirits of the dead!!! By the light of the orange moon In the dark of the purple night We linger in these shadows And wait there, until the time is right... On this night of Halloween We roam your city streets And among the masks of plastic We can finally be free So carve those faces, light your candles Offerings still must be made In the cold October moonlight To us Phantoms of Samhain And if you do not heed these words And refuse these simple deeds Well then, my friend You will be, Taken by the spirits of the dead! And if you do not heed these words And refuse these simple deeds Well then, My friend, you will be Taken ... Taken to the grave! Taken... Taken far away! Taken... Taken by we, the Phantoms of Samhain!!!
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Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC
Phantoms of Samhain
Darkness, it falls like a massive leaden shroud Over this quiet valley as the dusk  infects the sky Pleasant faces fade into the shadows of the night As the demons of the dead and dreaming come on out to play Howling at the moon Swarming through the streets Lurking in the shadows On this night of Halloween Carve the faces, light the candles Offerings must be made In the cold October moonlight To the Phantoms of Samhain If you fail If these ghouls are not appeased You will be... Taken by the spirits of the dead!!! The Tempter's Chosen And kin to the Grim Reaper Children of the Darkest Night Steal mortal souls to feast on Ghastly transformations Amidst accursed corpses We are possessed by the evil of tonight's demonic forces! Carve the faces, light the candles Offerings must be made In the cold October moonlight To the Phantoms of Samhain If you fail If these ghouls are not appeased You will be... Taken by the spirits of the dead!!! By the light of the orange moon In the dark of the purple night We linger in these shadows And wait there, until the time is right... On this night of Halloween We roam your city streets And among the masks of plastic We can finally be free So carve those faces, light your candles Offerings still must be made In the cold October moonlight To us Phantoms of Samhain And if you do not heed these words And refuse these simple deeds Well then, my friend You will be, Taken by the spirits of the dead! And if you do not heed these words And refuse these simple deeds Well then, My friend, you will be Taken ... Taken to the grave! Taken... Taken far away! Taken... Taken by we, the Phantoms of Samhain!!!
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60
What little sunshine being recognised Out of a storm flames approaching disorder Building vast contradictions without impediment Widespread in antiquity with alluring interpretations Constituting mutilated transformations whose opposing Lies stinking and fly swarmed, rotting at our feet
0
Jul 27, 2012
Jul 27, 2012 at 4:29 PM UTC
Democracy!!!!!!!!!!!
Now, what the hell has just happened to me?!, I went to sleep and felt quite human, Alarm goes off, opened my eyes to see, Two mounds where my little chest should be. My ****** armpits have just sprouted some fuzz, There's some hair where my lady garden was, My beautiful blonde hair is all goopy and limp, And my face has a likeness to a spotty chimp. When i went to bed last night, i loved my dear mother, Now, the thought of a cuddle makes me run and take cover, Ant lanky Jimmy Owens used to repulse me, no end, But now all i want is to be his girlfriend?!, I suppose i will need to start wearing a bra, And i'll have to smile through the taunts from grandma, And my father will watch every move that i make, And i'll have to conform, for my sanity's sake. Well, tonight, when i lay down my spotty wee head, I'll lie here and wait for the morning, with dread, All these transformations, all yuk and all grease, O lord, will i make it through in one piece?!. c eileen mcgreevy 2009
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Nov 20, 2009
Nov 20, 2009 at 5:50 AM UTC
Teen Mutation
and not for me but for my dad the father which, for granted had taken by his family, both his sons and wife known lovingly by the single candles light the messages I've scribbled down silent, they read, and so despite the darkness of a moonless night Who we are now, being the toll taken on behalf and of each moment acquired transformations take place, until we cease to be in the positions symptomatic of what we desired.
0
Sep 29, 2025
Sep 29, 2025 at 10:54 PM UTC
Mountain's Crave
It’s possible to speak too much to remember what your words mean. And so is the two-fold danger faced by writers. Danger is to pace a hole in the floor. Danger is to stand until you can’t move anymore like when shallow waves **** your feet into the sand. 
So I try not to stand when I write. 
I keep a narrow tack without too many big words which pedants use to dig great holes in the ground –moats to keep others out– or make you think they think big. But anyone who reads knows about Icarus and anyone with aims must beware: to shoot directly upwards is to strike your own head when like fate the arrow returns to source. You’re only as good as your mind, your characters only as strong as you are. —at least, this is true in so far as you know. True in so far as they speak. For to test them you must torque them and twist at their cores, and make opposing forces meet– but only as hard as you can. This makes writing a hill slick with oil. Insecure. Potential energy. Potential failure seated in all of that grime that cakes your toes like grease that coats the teeth of great industrial gears. So I try not to stand when I write. But whether the better take comes when you plunge and you slide and dissolve like so much ice, I must say I don’t know, the thought seems nice. But the same It seems like those who let go Are the ones with the least to say. I can't decide either which way. All I know about writing is most sentences are punctuated wrongly. The period is certain, but writing is undecided. It is the figuring-out, a quest-bound troop that moves with all its own fanfare. Question marks curl up— invisible smoke on a summer coal fire: heat twisting the air like irons in stoke giving sign of the transformations there withheld. For fire mediates matter, so writing stands ever-between. But I’ve spoken too much and I don’t know what these words mean. And so I fold like there’s danger in writing, while danger is imagined like borders on a continent. Danger is thinking I'm dangerous enough to keep silent. Like shallow waves, given way to sand. So avoid letting voids form where the mind dismisses confrontation to more capable smiths. Writing is –at best– an attempt. Even with shallow structures in rhythmic din, the silent breaks by force of pen, and all because of the simple fact that quiet refuses to bend. All I can hope is my writing upholds these unknowns while I try not to stand. But you ask about writing?
0
Apr 29, 2018
Apr 29, 2018 at 4:28 PM UTC
About Writing
It’s possible to speak too much to remember what your words mean. And so is the two-fold danger faced by writers. Danger is to pace a hole in the floor. Danger is to stand until you can’t move anymore like when shallow waves **** your feet into the sand. 
So I try not to stand when I write. 
I keep a narrow tack without too many big words which pedants use to dig great holes in the ground –moats to keep others out– or make you think they think big. But anyone who reads knows about Icarus and anyone with aims must beware: to shoot directly upwards is to strike your own head when like fate the arrow returns to source. You’re only as good as your mind, your characters only as strong as you are. —at least, this is true in so far as you know. True in so far as they speak. For to test them you must torque them and twist at their cores, and make opposing forces meet– but only as hard as you can. This makes writing a hill slick with oil. Insecure. Potential energy. Potential failure seated in all of that grime that cakes your toes like grease that coats the teeth of great industrial gears. So I try not to stand when I write. But whether the better take comes when you plunge and you slide and dissolve like so much ice, I must say I don’t know, the thought seems nice. But the same It seems like those who let go Are the ones with the least to say. I can't decide either which way. All I know about writing is most sentences are punctuated wrongly. The period is certain, but writing is undecided. It is the figuring-out, a quest-bound troop that moves with all its own fanfare. Question marks curl up— invisible smoke on a summer coal fire: heat twisting the air like irons in stoke giving sign of the transformations there withheld. For fire mediates matter, so writing stands ever-between. But I’ve spoken too much and I don’t know what these words mean. And so I fold like there’s danger in writing, while danger is imagined like borders on a continent. Danger is thinking I'm dangerous enough to keep silent. Like shallow waves, given way to sand. So avoid letting voids form where the mind dismisses confrontation to more capable smiths. Writing is –at best– an attempt. Even with shallow structures in rhythmic din, the silent breaks by force of pen, and all because of the simple fact that quiet refuses to bend. All I can hope is my writing upholds these unknowns while I try not to stand. But you ask about writing?
Continue reading...
74
Feel the chains change in me tonight Condense me to evaporate in want The long of a bounce to another world Light the fire to burn deep and fervour A belly roasts in repetitive embers flushes Hearts tied connate as the essence flashes A tangle ribboned to last after the dawn Testify as our sparks infinitely ignite dances Titaniums of our tectonic plates merge motions A convergence entwined in bordered emotions Link me in the convections of transformations Conversations of a lasting warm benevolence Paradisiacal chum of a past in resonance A photographic collection of a lived long life Unwrap the snare, unwind the erased tapes Lay back as we hide away behind the moonlight
0
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 4:18 PM UTC
Lithosphere- λίθος
i am a Gemini. the twins, the two faces. people mistakenly me as the most unstable sign. actually, it depends on their action. if you caught my attention, you will know by my loud dolphin laughter, or by my random wide smile. it means that you got my respect. if you disgust me, you can notice it by the way i am so quiet around, and by the ***** that you will never get, ever. i will be that quiet girl, you are going to think that i am a cold ***** who does not even care about your existence, well, it is because i do not want to waste my precious time to deal with whatever you do. if i am into you, you are going to see me shaking, you are going to feel that i am so nervous around you, you are going to see my fast transformations from the introverted type of human, to the annoying extrovert. i will start the conversation, and make sure it will keep going. if i am in love with you, you will know it by the joke i tell, that does not funny at all. i will randomly kiss you in front of many people without giving a single care about their judgements. i will rub your back, even when i am sleepy. you will be the one, and only exception. i will break down my walls for you simply because, i am in love with you.
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Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 11:03 PM UTC
Gemini.
She was always a chameleon soul Black Orchid Eyes, shadows, vulnerabilities Of heroine chic, Juxtaposed with an embracing Self Of mutual weirdness Meshing voices from The past Nostalgic memories for Behind the camera A lady photographed A younger self, Mirrored reflections of The lady she had graced Into through the Ages, Where contemplative deliberations Iconic wonders, flashed through Her mind With each click the metamorphosis Click;         one                 two                         three Twiggy, Edie, Kate Transformations; a sorcerers magic, Contradictions;                         body                                   mind                                             soul Mirages amidst reincarnations Never a remnant of the same For, the lady behind the lens Unseen A ghost veiled in black; The Black Orchid. © Sia Jane Dedicated & written for my darling friend Cara <3 For she shall know love <3
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Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 11:36 AM UTC
Black Orchid
It has every right to bare this clenched fist of a grudge embittered by techno-Jovian whims and base transformations Once delicately formed— two tips pressed en pointe, three others elegantly tucked— it danced with a golden shaft pulling indigo pirouettes across a swept ivory stage Then came the re-pose: a claw’s arched looming. Unhappiness fell as five wilted stems, beggar mouths forced to fumble toward those impoverished humps of white-on-black glyph The other hand is left complimentary, richly gripped by understudy glee, being
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Sep 23, 2010
Sep 23, 2010 at 9:43 AM UTC
Degradation (and uplift) of advancing technology
Two souls alone so far between only nights are calling Shinning stars pointing the way an affection so enthralling Shimmers over tranquil pools the crescent moonlights falling Meetings of two lovers hearts before the mornings dawning The anguish of a waiting heart the flutter of a wing Beauties small enchanted voice hearing the Fairy sing Dreams of love's compulsion, her song the wolf will bring Within two hearts both shall meet on silvers entwined ring A curse that's placed is broken a drink of pure tranquillity The Spirit of the Wolf is called upon a test of his nobility Flight of the fairy's soft élan her grace and her gentility Brake the curse before the dawn the tranquil pools ability Moonlight shines through the night sky a twinkle in a star Sparkles touch the waters edge those loves that leave a scar Both must drink before the light love's lost forever far Glimmers of hope a small sip Wolf's howl at what they are Transformations will occur love will always intervene Magical flickers catch the light and wherever it is seen Once a fairy fluttering now she's a proud Wolf queen Wolf's are always calling where tranquil pools have been The souls of two true lovers, will never be apart Differences are overcome, from Loves intervening heart Tranquil pools compulsive dreams, those feelings from the start When two hearts are intertwined, that's true loves unique art
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Mar 22, 2018
Mar 22, 2018 at 7:23 AM UTC
The Calling (new ending 24th February 2019)
Apon tha roll O' tha pagan's dream As it leaps an' boun's apon tha mental stream Flowing doon intae tha cordons o' solitaire Near tha brigs O' tha banks O' Bonnie Ayr. Tha whispering Hazel catches huld tha tune Echoing tha mysteries a' tha wae tae Troon As a glimmer O' lichtning crosses tha Sky He, tha ancient an' grand Wizard stoans apon Carrick high. Configurations an' transformations by god Far ayond tha concepts o' tha blunnering sod Catch hold Lad tha spirit as it flees past ye Heading oot taewards Arran across tha sea. Does no tha Seagull scream tae enchant tha ****** an' the win' blaws like some evil melody played by a Demon An' dinnie wait tae lang tae grasp tha chain O' life's faithful given, tha Barley, Wheat an' Grain. But come see tha Mither apon her Earth filled seat As tae tha wonnerous farmer She bows tae Greet That apon tha Seasons O' echoed fate they may come tae restore Tha True religion O' this land, O' this flaming shore. Nue listen an' be quite till pass a' hoors break an' bin' ye thagither tha dreams an' thouchts that ye take an' cast it a' apon tha Fires O' Beltanes torch Tae watch as tha flames reach higher an' higher, tha heevens tae scorch. Alisdaire O'Caoimph
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Mar 21, 2011
Mar 21, 2011 at 1:45 PM UTC
Tha lan, Tha auld lan - Scots
I want to be attached on you as the scars on your body Permanent on your skin with no way of erasing my semblance Embracing the journey of your body and all its transformations Embedded in your most intimate places I know secrets about you that I’ll always conceal.
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Sep 8, 2024
Sep 8, 2024 at 1:49 AM UTC
Permanent
what is this love for I have beheld it cast in metamorphosis a love that makes transformations on the mind permissible transformations improvisations of the self in ****** intensity which emphasises the drama of sometimes, dark, violent and repressive potentials vicious energies of hate and ambition that propel the enactment of intense and exhausting experience of vigorous vertiginous chaos indomitable in its desires what is this love is it a registered predicament made memorable by vivid language that would butcher in ritual gratuitous memories and testify to an urgency of unwisely relinquished emotion what is this love does it flourish in flawed and unreasonable understandings accumulated upon the mind in vicarious thrill of sympathy where traits are highly exaggerated and eagerly anticipates the oppressive weight of the past that functions upon a common collapse of distinctions or does it manufacture artificial precepts pretending in attractive collaboration to associate fiction rather than fact what is this love is it that by treaty or inheritance with loving ferocity would embalm all tears and hide all those collaborations in flared conflagrations of the heart and yes create a turmoil in the mind hotter than a thousand summers and vividly stamp upon a twisted body a moral viciousness of fathomless malice that wouldst close its ears to the admonitions of conscious and thus through an improbable incantatory verbal rite touch the hidden order of all things in disassembling nature what is this love if only it was known
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Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 5:26 PM UTC
What is this love?
what is this love for I have beheld it cast in metamorphosis a love that makes transformations on the mind permissible transformations improvisations of the self in ****** intensity which emphasises the drama of sometimes, dark, violent and repressive potentials vicious energies of hate and ambition that propel the enactment of intense and exhausting experience of vigorous vertiginous chaos indomitable in its desires what is this love is it a registered predicament made memorable by vivid language that would butcher in ritual gratuitous memories and testify to an urgency of unwisely relinquished emotion what is this love does it flourish in flawed and unreasonable understandings accumulated upon the mind in vicarious thrill of sympathy where traits are highly exaggerated and eagerly anticipates the oppressive weight of the past that functions upon a common collapse of distinctions or does it manufacture artificial precepts pretending in attractive collaboration to associate fiction rather than fact what is this love is it that by treaty or inheritance with loving ferocity would embalm all tears and hide all those collaborations in flared conflagrations of the heart and yes create a turmoil in the mind hotter than a thousand summers and vividly stamp upon a twisted body a moral viciousness of fathomless malice that wouldst close its ears to the admonitions of conscious and thus through an improbable incantatory verbal rite touch the hidden order of all things in disassembling nature what is this love if only it was known
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52
1. Show me your inky night and dreaming darkness, the passing clouds, moonlit, wind driven, impassioned, that never would know where they wound culminate, or what transformations will take place between the nebulous begining and the end as they speed through as if they are programmed to perform feats that move the wheels forward. 2. Show me the constellations magnificent, that baffle me every time I stare, countless stars in your milky way like a  progression, dying or being born, some glittering, some death pale, red, blue or any hue one could imagine, and the endless mystery that envelops, all the wondrous things, making' being' as a part of 'nothingness' eternal, one in which "Maya"*unfolds as apparitions. 3. Show me,how you drown me in  your boundless love that makes every moment born, transcend beyond black holes of deaths and cycles of births connected like tunnel of wormholes.Make me listen the subtle music being conducted within every tiny spec, that takes part in this eternal ecstatic dance of the sublime. 4. Show me your magical might, that would make me both, Schrodinger's cat alive, in it's playful self, and simultaneously in a sleep like death, existing while it is non existent, and one with everything in this multiverse dead , dying, alive or emerging from gloom, all at once, while, reposing   within a consciousness, limitless.
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Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 1:31 PM UTC
Show Me, The Way It Is
The glory of nature in all of its transformations the dawning of consciousness the surrender of love the struggle for survival the dance between the  light and darkness The meteor shower the child's first step the child's first smile the cocoon unspun the spider's daily web the many mornings come and gone This observer of what is and what is not consumed with awe Melting solids to dust liquid to vapors riding life's lightening thunder's laughter From oppression to freedom From slumber to wisdom The glory of all nature instantaneous and gone the ink on the page the sun gone nova the event horizon random particles converge into being dissipate and defuse from movement to entropy ashes to ashes stardust to stardust The poet ever singing the glory of transformations.
0
Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 12:46 PM UTC
Transformations
Is there a failure in me To control unsanctioned energies Energies that are demonized Yet as such energies I have given free rein to That seems to bring prolonged misfortunes Of unjust encounters with an obedient stream That leaves one to bear the extremity of dire mishap Of unradical transformations that mount strenuous protests And hover like that of an appalling malady cast upon themselves In grotesque confusion causing scenes of tormenting fear Present me before Cerberus a position for me that is At once pleasurable and disturbing
0
Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 2:55 PM UTC
Energies
nestled in its comfortable corner of the marsh, lays nine-thousand acres of soggy southern soil and sweetgrass. here the hands of the clock carelessly play a lazy leapfrog as tranquil transformations of pidgin make for musing murmurs. the clangor of crickets lulling the weary ears to sleep, as nocturnal creatures nimbly parade over placid, brackish water. rotting wood stilts sink softly into the not-exactly-quicksand, the last ferry makes a wake while winding to the next ******* father time is in no hurry here.
0
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 8:28 PM UTC
sandy island
Now, what the hell has just happened to me? i went to sleep, and felt semi human, alarm goes off, open my eyes to see, two mounds where my wee chest should be.... My ****** armpits stink, and have sprouted fuzz, and there,s hair where my lady garden was, my beautiful blonde hair is all goopy and limp, and my face bares a likeness to a spotty young chimp.... When i went up to bed, i loved my dear mother, now, the thought of a cuddle makes me run and take cover, and that lanky Josh Owens used to repulse me, no end, but today all i want is to be his girlfriend.... I suppose i will have to start wearing a bra, and i,ll have to smile through all the taunts from grandma, and my father will watch every move that i make, and i,ll have to conform, for my sanity's sake.... Well, tonight when i lay down my spotty wee head, i will lie here and wait for the morning, with dread, with all these transformations,sweaty armpits, hair all grease, oh dear universe, please help me make it through in one piece !! (c)[email protected]   (re-edited)
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Mar 22, 2018
Mar 22, 2018 at 12:33 PM UTC
Teen Mutation
Time has put a vagrancy on my mind Subdues conformity and material worship With scalding epileptic convulsions of imagination My mouth blood-stained, shrieking like a pianting A painting by Munch gives way, yields, yes yields To an unrelenting detonation of the unconscious An existential filter of real or imagined transformations Which by miraculous tongue restores a belief To wonder and levies no compass on perception Yet reveals a tormenting estrangement That does mount a strenuous and contemptuous protest Against familiarity with agonized shrieks of obdurate tenacity Where the phantoms of my imagination enact their mysterious mysteries And produce a poetic alchemy of violated imagination
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Sep 23, 2012
Sep 23, 2012 at 3:31 PM UTC
Think, ha, ha, yes think
Heat. Heat. Heat. Heat. I am instant flames My sparks immediate, my smoke lasting I do not take time nor kindle nor match I am instant Heat. Heat. Heat. I am fire I am a shapeshifter Making transformations to suit me The wronged I turn righteous The hurt I turn vengeful The incapable I turn defensive I am a shapeshifter I am the force in intensity Whether as the fright in whispers Or as the ferocity of screams I am the danger in irrationality I am in sorrow I am in grief I am in betrayal Both prolonged and brief I am in the happiness of others but not in you I am the knife in the back stabbing all the way through Heat. Heat. Heat. Heat I require air Fuel, oxygen, life My flames not spun from nothing Require a start, a base I require caring Without it I have no reason And I turn into apathy I require passion My sparks can not die out I require strength And thus I'm often offended I require... Heat. Heat. Heat. Heat. I am heat I require soul I require life I am wrath
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Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 11:47 PM UTC
I am, I require
the bundles of mulched cannas  thickens like Autumn's bracken and the orange hues of the acer plays hide and seek amongst the glowing skies solitary magpies forever  speculate caution as overgrown paths beckons the occasional stranger. Contre jour light frames my mission at once I understand the message a seasonal transformation pitches the earnestness of renewal.
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Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 3:27 PM UTC
Autumn transformations
Your eyes are introducing an attentive gaze Analyzing everything, you see Commanding the unfamiliar to be openly revealed Exhibiting your intensive curiosity An open expression of gathering awareness Gently glows there upon your face Transcending all of the troubled disturbances Communicated here in this place There is a vast swarm of shifting transformations Not seen by the unguarded eye Now zealously revealed to your attentive gaze As your awareness begins to rise The harmonious elevation of your wondrous unveiling Strikes a chord in the depth of thee Awakening the knowledge, you hold deep inside As what is hidden, you can now see
0
Aug 20, 2010
Aug 20, 2010 at 8:20 PM UTC
Attentively Watching
*Sapphire Eyes Of An Astral Mermaid, Perpetual Eternities & Her Sundrenched Serenades, Myriad Odysseys & Spellbound Fairytales, Veiled In Elysian Elegance Of Her Harmonious Tales, ****** Landscapes & Electric Fire, Stellar Cloudscapes Of Her Ecstatic Desires, Spatial Matrix Of An Emerald Queen, An Ethereal Butterfly Perpetually Serene, Colored Screenshots & Blue Moon Foundations, Wrecking Overdose Of Her Summer Seductions, Synthetic Transformations Of Her Sun Caged Maze, Interstellar Canvas Painted In Her Galactic Sage, Searchlights Trapped In Her Floral Vortex, Eternal Burns Streaming Spectral *** Supernova Charades & Her Uncharted Palisades, Dewdrops Verses Drenched In Her Toxic Shades, Restrained Insanity & Crystal Heartbeats Stained Perspectives Of Her Intimate Deceits, Phantasmal Radiance To Her Billion Dreams, Enigmatic Raves Blossoming Into Epiphanic Realms. - 05:47 AM -*
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Apr 10, 2017
Apr 10, 2017 at 8:32 PM UTC
Princesse Du Soleil
...dear brothers and sisters ________________ and the gentle rain falleth the gentle reign of love is here we gather and become stronger than the fear that invades us all the holy infinities (streets where the children play) creating tomorrows from out the love _____________________ and so again!......why, even YOU have chosen to be here!......even YOU have made the decision........even YOU! _________no need to ask why!------------it is the choosing makes you real, makes you whole , renders you fit for life.......the YOU that is not subservient to anyone or anything...........____for all truth. all knowledge, is FOR you, is FROM you,.....IS you--------this is surely possible to REALIZE_______and i-----------witness to your transformations, listener to your understandings manifesting-----------may grow in courage as we together grow in strength----------from "inner peace" WORLD PEACE-----------and we, if we remain steadfast in devotion to each other and to who we KNOW WE ARE--------shall feel the dignity, the nobility inherent in the power from which we have been created and from which we create
0
Aug 11, 2011
Aug 11, 2011 at 12:13 PM UTC
community
*brilliant transformations scare her* *she doesn’t know what she’ll become or how they’ll react but she knows this is what she wants this is what she’s been waiting for and even though they’ll stare* *brilliant transformations scar her* *but she will convalesce, she will blossom, and they will adjust and she’ll finally be everything she wanted*
0
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 10:10 AM UTC
Change