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"unassumingly" poems
Resplendent rose, luminous green, Lucid paradisaical palette, The jewel delivers It's dyed, distinctive sheen Graciously, unassumingly Casting a pink and emerald crewel Coalescing into traces, Cuisine for sunbeams Brushing nature's easel -- Bedecking the constellation lighting on earth, Realizing among tureens: Scalloped edge profusions offering The spoonbill waif Sweet adrenaline, Fueling it's sojourn in the atmosphere. Bird of prey, humming minstrel, Airy, iridescent meddler Between red blooms, Distant gem's sparkle Gracing redolent, languid afternoons Cloaked in shimmering velveteen, Beating velocious wings, remaining still.
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Aug 13, 2010
Aug 13, 2010 at 9:11 AM UTC
Hummingbird
The cobwebs were hanging in the corners of the room. While I'll confess I was lost within the masquerade, of a dance full with the intent of death; swirling till we sung with how to die alone. In our ballroom, is what I need; Step by step; unassumingly. I'll wait for you there, locked in our rhythm. I'll wait for you there, till time stands still. And on death row, I will continue on with a smile. My mask molding into my face- Like the harlequin, dancing endless steps- slipping down the path of the pagan. I will pray to the god's and anyone listening. To return me to my heavens. To a place, I'll recall; wasn't I just there--- In our ballroom, is what I need; Step by step; unassumingly. I'll wait for you there, locked in our rhythm. I'll wait for you there, till time stands still. And on I dance, until the days were done. And then, there I sat with regrets... Cobwebs hanging over shattered glass. All the things I've never achieved... For all I've done, for all I've been. In dreams until my death, I wonder on.
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Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 1:43 PM UTC
In dreams until my death, I wonder on.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, his voice a gin-soaked amalgamation of every listlessly aging boss, lonely husband in the shoe department, loveless 3a.m.-hard-cocked stranger. “Why don’t you smile?” I widened my eyes in an attempt to appear likable, yet felt my mouth straightening, my upper lip sealing the bottom like a Tupperware lid. I willed them to curl upwards, unassumingly; I wanted to smile the way women seem to smile while masking ill-fitting intentions. My mouth remained firmly rooted, obstinate railroad tracks running the shortest distance between the two plotted points of left cheek and right cheek. Behind these pretty lips lay two rows of crooked teeth, a cigarette-stained skyline against the starless horizon of tongue and epithelial tissue, ugly and wholly my own. To smile would be a betrayal of my own trust, and if any man were worth that it certainly wasn’t this one.
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Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 1:06 AM UTC
Late-Night Bar Thoughts
Each day dawning would gift me new eyes of wonder, right from my childhood a  friend, from this lone and lonely tree, I'd fervently hope for something different, rushing  to the window, I view that  elegance as the first auspicious thing to gaze at, as the custom suggests. After the morning light creates a pool above the verdant hills at the east, yet again a regular ritual, the tree is my magical yard stick by which I measure myself, a mysterious pact between us existed, deep in mind, I had felt only we know between us even if the breeze says, that aloud often. In her presence every thing becomes clear. As I watch the tree, as usual after the repetitions of long years of rain, shine and mist in between, what I saw that moment was different: On every branch seeking light, bristled flowery wonders songbirds, absent till the day before in droves sat all over the crown, in unison singing her paeans sonorously, purple rays of morning sun adorned each leaf, in colorful embrace. Wasn't it the moment I was yearning for? I stood filled with it's effulgence,crown to root the connection in an instance, becomes clear, there is no secrets left unsaid between  us any more-- In a flash , a golden window opens in inner chamber I feel free from, the bindings of all mundane desires as one rows the boat, the miseries of Samsara, the treacherous rapids, are left behind for ever. Isn't it enlightenment, at the moment seeking me unassumingly through my open windows?
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Jun 28, 2017
Jun 28, 2017 at 2:49 PM UTC
The Bodhi tree just outside my window
Harrowed by this most singular form, we are a Coalescence of two Pedals in cathedral stained glass windows In glorious form And resting on tables Placed seemingly, unassumingly Placed in insurmountable space Seen by seers and filled by philosophers, Nonetheless echoing through cavernous halls Patterned textures of a Parisian tablecloth in my hand While my other holds yours in its softness Recusing sonneteers’ burdens, Varied recollections of a ringing sound Excusing intelligent ponderings, Echoes of faltering and exaltation With a kiss, we speak soundly Amplifying what we’ve heard all our lives, But its crimson is of our origination To be heard once by us and hence, Echoed to be heard throughout
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Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 10:11 PM UTC
Annotations of a Rose: Having Bloomed
They are always laid on their backs, hands folded delicately, almost as if in bedtime prayer, over their still bosoms - as was custom to call it then in that undefined historical time in which all sleeping princesses forever dream. I am reminded of them now as you lie there, my drowsy prince in a comforter castle. You who lie there so unassumingly, your quivering lips impetus enough to embolden anyone, knight or otherwise, to scale the stony towers of your blanketed confinement. But as i watch you i find that i am no princess, and far from the gallant savior your fairy tales promised. I have no sword with which to save you, and no beast to save you from beyond the snoring dog at your feet. There's no poisoned spool or fruit to trap you, no wicked witch's scheme, just a heavy head and a warm pillow beneath it, And how foolish i look now, worn pajamas replacing the silver armor i should have on. so sleep my dear prince, and dream of the hero you want me to be, and i'll stand guard by the door, trying my best to keep the dust bunnies and dragons at bay.
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May 30, 2011
May 30, 2011 at 4:35 PM UTC
Prince Charming
I saw your wife at the coffee shop You know the one I always talk about It's up East Main, la-la-la-left on Crane You should join us some time You do love your caffeine Your wife reads cook books Did you know that? I can't even fry an egg Green brown sunny side up or Unassumingly most usually down Even with her gray hairs, She looks younger without you around what a shame. Did you know that if I could find a reason, I'd slink out of my chair and I would say, "Nice to meet you, I don't believe I know your name." As I think about introducing myself It dawns on me, She probably knows who I am by now so that won't be necessary. Besides, nothing makes me feel like I'm wearing glass shoes more than you Honestly, Honey.. *I don't want to destroy the last page of the storybook you've written for yourself and what happiness I've found what teeny-weensy little bit.. suddenly meaningless.* I put the shoes back in her closet Woman's eight, half size too big Shut the light as I leave None of this ever belonged to me Not literally or figuratively Put the keys in the ignition and I'm home free
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Nov 16, 2011
Nov 16, 2011 at 1:30 PM UTC
Honestly, Honey
I am like the wind - always around unassumingly but never noticed by your naked eye. Until one day, when spring heats up, you long for me, the gust of wind, your wind of life.
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Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 7:02 AM UTC
Wind
Im not one of those people The ones that yell on the cliff And wave their arms all about Not one who demands your attention Claiming it as my own Im one of those people who stands Quietly and unassumingly Next to you And whispers “hi I am here Im thinking of you Maybe you could think of me?” Im one of those ones Waiting to be noticed For someone to see The me who takes a bit of searching To find Who would love you forever And be totally devoted If you so much as asked me to But instead I stand Unassumingly Over there Hoping you remember But unsurprised that you don’t After all I not standing on a cliff Shouting out your name
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Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 12:08 PM UTC
Not One Of Those People
Sometimes everything clicks – Just a glimpse and I know it’ll be gone. In the midst of the chaos and confusion, the sun set on the “almosts” and led to this golden dawn. There you were, unassumingly + perfectly placed in my world; waiting for me. I don’t remember how it started, or how exactly I was led to you, But you make sense. In the middle of it all – Fire alarms, crowds of people, You found me.   There are only flashes of everything else --   Brown eyes, your shirt, the color green, drunken conversations about Parks and Rec, a piece of gum, the way you looked back at me when you got in the car… a sureness that I’d see you again. Here we are in this golden hour. I know this epiphany won’t last forever -- I'll hold it close while it does. You overwhelm me with this feeling that everything is falling into place. Even if it’s all gone by sunset, I’m glad it all led to you -- right now. (a.g.)
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Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 5:52 PM UTC
NOW.
Sitting up On the shelf Between the cucumbers and zucchini Delicate vegetables in hues of yellow Longing to be returned to the garden. Gazing down At me, Little squash Freshly taken from a crate In the back of the refrigerated truck On a long journey from what was familiar. Far traveled, the linoleum strikingly different From the warm soil baked by the sun, Your kin next to you, safe and sprinkled With the earth. Plucked from the branch, Swept away from the flowery buds Unassumingly awaiting your same fate. Dragged through the air, Your once carefully placed existence, Groomed to perfection, Basking in the life of the warm garden, No longer holds you to it. In the market, The mist sweeps down, Reminding you of home. Reminiscent, You long of the same thunderstorms that captivate me, Feeling the earth and her tears from heaven on my skin. Absorbing, As if you were A sponge Taking in your surroundings, Holding them dear and flourishing In your environment, Only to be rung out, Waiting to take in more, Never of the same matter.
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Jun 17, 2025
Jun 17, 2025 at 10:03 AM UTC
Ode to a Yellow Squash
My body pressed down by stacks of dictionaries and thesauruses And people desperate to iron out my creases before they need to use me, I lay flat against the map of the town, my cheek brushing a tree’s branches. The paper town is pretty to perfection, all done down in diffused pastels It’s long and tall, but it has zero broadness to its name- A perfect match for me in those days leading up to a stint in rehab But SHHHHH!! We’re aren’t allowed to talk about rehab. The river that flows unassumingly through town traces a line across my thighs, Covering up with its blue murk the lil red scratches that paint my skin But SHHHHH!! We’re aren’t allowed to talk about those problems either. The paper town is quiet and quaint on the face, Which is good given there’s not much else to see here. The infinities wasted here linger below like the taste of peanut butter But anyone could see from a glance the lives frozen in one serene moment What they can’t see, the part that’s hidden under the soil, the second layer of paper Is that the moment is surely fading into a photograph And slowly, slowly, slowly… the paper town is home only to pathetic paper people. Picture perfect. Perfect picture. I can feel my heart disintegrating with each passing day I can’t give it any meaning And I can feel my blood boiling with each day the powers that be control me and I don’t know why I can’t find any rhyme or reason that works for me, I can’t find a meaning to be me, or being this I’m made of paper, blowing in the wind wherever it wants to take me I’m a powerless slip of paper with a painted on smile fading in the brilliant sunlight I’m driving into. I fade. I’m not even a fresh paper anymore. But I feel doomed to be a paper forever. So I fade.
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Jan 3, 2018
Jan 3, 2018 at 5:33 PM UTC
Paper
My body pressed down by stacks of dictionaries and thesauruses And people desperate to iron out my creases before they need to use me, I lay flat against the map of the town, my cheek brushing a tree’s branches. The paper town is pretty to perfection, all done down in diffused pastels It’s long and tall, but it has zero broadness to its name- A perfect match for me in those days leading up to a stint in rehab But SHHHHH!! We’re aren’t allowed to talk about rehab. The river that flows unassumingly through town traces a line across my thighs, Covering up with its blue murk the lil red scratches that paint my skin But SHHHHH!! We’re aren’t allowed to talk about those problems either. The paper town is quiet and quaint on the face, Which is good given there’s not much else to see here. The infinities wasted here linger below like the taste of peanut butter But anyone could see from a glance the lives frozen in one serene moment What they can’t see, the part that’s hidden under the soil, the second layer of paper Is that the moment is surely fading into a photograph And slowly, slowly, slowly… the paper town is home only to pathetic paper people. Picture perfect. Perfect picture. I can feel my heart disintegrating with each passing day I can’t give it any meaning And I can feel my blood boiling with each day the powers that be control me and I don’t know why I can’t find any rhyme or reason that works for me, I can’t find a meaning to be me, or being this I’m made of paper, blowing in the wind wherever it wants to take me I’m a powerless slip of paper with a painted on smile fading in the brilliant sunlight I’m driving into. I fade. I’m not even a fresh paper anymore. But I feel doomed to be a paper forever. So I fade.
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The motion of the never ending cold waters makes me sick, sometimes It bobs up and down and by now it’s hard to tell when I’m breathing and when I’m not The weight of the deep waters presses on my chest when my head’s above water The air stings my throat and eyes and the remnants of the water surrounding me reside in my lungs It’s so much easier to let go To let the ever present waves consume me as I sink down further To swim in shadows below and drown unassumingly To me and everyone around me
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Oct 24, 2019
Oct 24, 2019 at 10:16 AM UTC
Drowning