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Beautifully
             Insecure
Freely
             Bound
Confidently
               Invisible
Positively
               Negative
Lovingly
                Hated
Unbreakably
                  Broken

Every piece of me you think you've figured out,
I'll show you how it should look.

Not extended, edited, or pondered about.
Just a character in a book.
Tonight, whenst my soul wasth dancing about its walls,
I chall-enged myself to potter about th' halls.
Having adjusted my red shawl and added some more
tints of blush into my frazzled cheeks, didst I swing myself
out of my chamber.
A sleek rain wasth but mumbling outside; and evoked within me
a longing for domestic adventures-to **** th' silent drear of
th' dying evening! With only th' rain as its ember, flitting away
wasth its cold shadows, with shards of plainness around
its damp, frail body, awash in th' childlike pouring shower-
th' one t'at would betray it soon-and ended with a blunt
thump as th' morbid clouds hanging aloft, dyeing th' sky faithfully red,
but consoling in such irresistible ways! How I remembereth its leaving a scent
to my skin and constitution so soft, and indulged it away, so unlike
th' smug moonbeam-immaculate like th' stars, but unsettled and tumultous
at heart-and in th' lap of bleak, unsoundly thunderstorms would be torn apart.
So ventured I, downstairs! No soul was rolling around th' corridors,
in spite of th' lamps, t'ose yellow halos against
th' wooden walls. How I gleefully descended th' adjacent steep bars-
downwards, in a quiet stroll, whilst coolly whistling to my own *****-
to procure the merriment of letters-yes, th' abodes of t'ose ****** words,
unappalled yet by th' venerable worlds. And t'eir tiny chambers, t'ose neatly
glued; inked papers, flocked into t'eir serene boxes this afternoon-ah, by those
blokes so punctual, honourable indeed areth t'eir perseverance, strength,
and little carriages! With horses as divine, crowding people's lives
with th' ornaments of phrases carved within envelopes
in t'eir leather bags-an occupation so holy! It is-it is, indeed! Like a sledge
t'at never utters a complaint-or sheep t'at dares not to leap, or
wiggle, in th' threat of its young master, albeit grimaces of sickness,
and pain, pain as of giving mortal births, affordeth. And howeth it shalt invade
its listening hearts with blades of agony-whose sullen grass
is bitter but never to wither-a resemblance of long-living memory,
so dark but unspoken-and whose life is but willingly tethered t' th' snow beneath;
a pampered sea of whiteness with bonds of accusation
enshrined along its surface,
regardless of th' pure-hearted toil of th' reindeer,
and its honesty t'at so charmingly planted within its roots. Agreeable element,
just as it is! T'ose men so deserving of praise-hark, hark how t'ey clutched at my letters,
and gently shoved 'em forwards; amidst t'ose gloomy bits of chuckling dews!
Frosts t'at sent chills through th' afternoon's vigilant pains,
o, what dormant a serpent, as t'ey wert! But now wert t'ey inventing t'eir slots
out o' t'eir caves-andeth greedly rendering it more gratuitous
t' th' old man's eyes. Horrendous! Inescapable! Disagreeable! How t'is fate, but fate
t'at is intimate with wonder-obstinate in 'tis own credulity, and paths
of security, esteem, and actuality; fate t'at canst ot'erwise be unfathomable-
at th' most desirous times such as t'is!
Thrown was I into th' view of another, fancy who it was-
a former friend, about whom my heart once so dearly throbbed, and perchance
plentifully longed to meet! But as encounter, didst we-a river of grand, prosperous ambitions
and plots of weaving merciful fortune, andeth devious thirst for far precarious,
yet precious, lore-forgotten wereth thus our memories, and stepped away but we,
from each ot'er's undeniably hearty regions.
But he! How, this evening, with t'at pair of eyes
kind with endless blueness-blowing so handsome into my face,
t'at lake of golden hair, and skin so moist in its ripe, whole whiteness,
as bright as th' moonlit skies above-sensuous and translucent
in his searing youth, o my dear!
How he entereth th' door with t'ose passionate airs about 'im,
and abruptly captivated my soul! Atoned, hastily, wasth all my grief
and pangs of gloom, upon my laying my first sights on 'im! What a majestic being!
A charm so frank as th' most desired odour of nature;
and unbreakably calm in its greetings-a lure so powerful to my entire soul!
How decent, yet enticing, t'is gentleman to my comprehension!
How lovable wasth his manly voice-as he first attempted to speak;
blanketed and cheered most adorably
by colourful fogs of courage, waves of veritable determination-o, how a gaze
can be so tender into my heart!
O, but it now appeareth t'at I ought to doubt not
about falling in love again;
with t'ese new fits o' charms I've found,
of a soul t'at was but so long abandoned
whilst I let myself being disheartened-so cruelly
and unthinkingly, by that poor fiend! A brute, a lonesome wretch as he is-
whose love is but unworthy, fraudulent, to my eyes-
a rustic, odd liar! And let him but shrink
into nothingness; and be unthoughtfully buried within th' cold arms
of th' dismantled sun-wherein a wrathful furnace shalt he burn, and cry,
cry sorrowfully in deplorable hatred, with no-one else to shoulder his castigations
and bestow neither any ot'er love-nor pity, for 'im,
as th' wife whom his chest daintily adores
is but th' sin he has made, andeth th' ashes of his ungodly remains-
As cursed and woven away from t'is world by our kingly God-just as how she
hath misled him hitherto, and duly tortured wasth her by our new faith-
whence soulless was she left, a thin, uncrucial vapour of triviality-as most sane creatures
shalt know! How after t'at disaster of death,
damnation becameth her home and bower,
whereth howl wilt she like a prone elf-
andeth be th' mourning fire itself.
city of flips Jul 2019
for the ladies who liquid lunch

<>

the finest young women of the wild west,
(the best of course just might be in Texas)
don’t always get educated in the things best,
no private schools, so somethings sometimes,
like the upscale training of the taste buds,
must be learned on the job, training the palate,
by growing up, self+taught, thank god, yes!

<>

your salty taste
reminds me of ruffled potato chips, bugles, beef jerky
and
your very own brand of
loving tears

it’s true you know,
impossible to eat
just one, which is
why my tonguing
of your body parts,
is unceasingly seizing

I will always be found
attached unbreakably,
to your moving image,
moving inside of me

so sweet your salt,
it’s your story,
your flavored lives living on
in poems unnamed, to disguise
but the authorship of whom,
in body, in mind, so obvious,
cause in all your poems is a tangy
salty

impossible to eat just one

****
<>
p.s. you tease me mean,
cowman,

bbq and béarnaise,
sassafras and edible petals,
molasses and kosher salt,
ingredient combination
which of course
you just made up,
so I show my appreciation
biting your arm so my permanent
teeth marks,
will remind me,
and you too,
just how salty
biting Texas heifers who
can or cannot be salt cured
when
it’s their turn to write some
real good tasting
poetry

****

back for more already?

****
Alice Burns Sep 2013
The man I love is a great one
Though he is still destined to become a good one
I admit that times have tested my patience
Waiting for his buds to blossom I have survived a thousand storms
Lightning striking from fogs that bear his face look over me
With the thunderous roars proclaiming him their soldier
But godly vision have calmed my fears again and again
And the sight of our souls roots and branches remain unbreakably entwined
But though he is great, so too is he bad
But the heavens reassure me of how it will be
How it should have been

I know my blessings could wipe his slate clean
But it would be selfish of me to cleanse just him
It would bring consequences of a hellish nature
Devils claiming me prejudice would add fuel to their fires
Luring more innocent souls ignorantly to their side
I wish I could tell him why I seem to ignore his pleas
Trapped by fear of his response the words never escape mind
So many times truth has been met by dismissal
I am a victim of unjust rejection
Maddie Fay Mar 2013
Whisper words
And feather bones,
Lips like echoes,
Eyes like shadows.
Unbreakably ephemeral.

Silent steps
On carpet,
Night thief
With her cloak of stolen stars.

It is easy enough to pretend
She was never there
At all.
I'm so down to earth I’m 6 feet under
Here the sounds of silent thunder sing me to sleep
The torn clothes, never worn, keep me warm
Like a baby in a laundry basket full of rags
Tags ripped off
What a waste of money how much did it cost
It took too long to realize I was lost and I am now one with the dirt
Stains on my shirt
I dream of my legs going somewhere important
My lungs are a meter stick and my breath is a child too small to ride
It just doesn’t reach
Teach the kid to stretch I’ll smile from my state of rest
Keep drinking your milk kid
Maybe you won’t be the man too short to live
Powerful enough to break a strawberries heart
A rollercoaster is a good start it teaches you how things will be
Unless your me, just lay still on the ground
Hear the ringing sounds but don’t analyze what it means
Because behind the scenes of these stained glass windows
Is the 2018 year-round gun show
The bullet missed my smile by a mile but it must have hit a parallel universe because once again I am one with the dirt
The elements sing me to sleep
Quick wit lies, open eyes keep me alive
And when the shovel comes I won’t be ready to leave
I've faked my death for a quarter lifetime of peace
I decompose piece by piece
I'm so unbreakably sane that death hit every ***** but forgot about my brain
Meaning I'm no longer in pain but I can think about what it feels like
From now on I’ll stay high as a kite
But the oxygen diminishing dirt wont let my geeb light
As sober as a drunk man that lost his liver then found god
From now on I’ll be high on death
Until the lower mantle steals my last breath
Poetically QUEEN Jan 2015
Breath Shallow mi amor
Your iron lungs
Forever need rest
Here
Let me
take your next breath

I cling to now
Ignore was...and then

Please Smile slowly
I'll try not to blink
Except to
Ward off
Salty streams
I just...
Don't wanna miss
a thing

like Those lips....

Ecstasy

When I slip my slightest print
Over them
I Can feel the
deepest cracks
Peeling
Dead
Soft scales of death

Beautiful

Breath Shallow my love
I'm clawing
At now
But was
Continues to take
From us

f*ing *******...

Oh My Sampson
Unbreakably shattered
Your bones pierce
Through your tired leathery
Skin
I lust
Its lack of luster


With Your head
Smooth
A barren meadow
Not how you like it
But you love
to let it
Blow
in the wind

Mi amor
Calmase!

If I could
lay here for you
I would

You know...
You see my
Longing twinkle
In my youth

Sometimes I think
You've let go

Just
.....
to free me
You keep breathing deeply
Cancer *****
I know "unbreakably" isn't a word...I just don't care
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
Sailing the guilty-seas
as regret trickles down my spine
and unloads
its over-thought-husky-murky-thoughts
upon my shoulders.

My daily rations are here:
shame, regret and guilt.
They’re brewing me to the bone;
into a rotten broth.

My thoughts pace
backwards and forwards
from guilt —
for remaining stagnant,
one of the past.

For being recycled
relentlessly-unbreakably
in this unhealthy cycle.

It is a cycle
of forget me nots;
such vile fetters.

But no dose can
reverse the abused time,
the stutters-and-mutters
the time that slipped my grips
and the sins
that swallowed my innocence whole.

For remorse, guilt and shame
only anchor us back
unless we were to morph them
to fuel and experience
to propel us forward.
Ken Pepiton Jun 29
Yes, reading, using only text, unbreakably plain,
as benign as simple first seems, easy to keep thinking

we may be evolving as we think in ways none thought
possible to leave be so easing, lifting, lightening thinking

we need not toil,
at this instance,
the nature of the medium,
holding any sense we make,
massaging the messenger, to me
arranges time around second glances,
it may mean as many as seventy things,

but tome, said in Hebrew, is integrated innocense,
and it has a verbal form, completing certain trans
actions, in spacetime mindful practice fields,
as pre-spiring aspiring transpirits transpiring
into little willful art works, aspirational asps

sneaky snake, wise serpent, dragon prosperity,
dragon of lucifity, crawling like an army, on its belly,

Set, divine sylabbles from babbling brooks,
that loved the high mountains in that science
of Aristotle kind of love, rich kids learned as religion.

The initiation into the mysteries.

Those oaths, I swear, we hear them
to this day, as games are played, old spells
muttered, and the veterans of Satanic Panic,

at the edge
of the last millennium,
once more, gather socially,
to see shown, the Q- document
included the ritual,
to let this mind, be
in you, and you  be thinking,

-- wait one adjectively untainted minute,
is the-this art, is this thinkable, without
authority?

this peace I am taking, I did not make it, but
I can take it. I fought no dragon,
won no war.
I solved the house troubling egg
riddle, silk eggs store story lines
on the scale
of life, entire memories
of winds waters since the ice,
last reached farther last summer,
than this, these
memories
in gaseous we formed last gasps,
suddenly

it ended… and we survived,
we feel the need t
o let it be known, and lo'
we have a culture atuned
to the tongue I was programed
to use awarily as the message medium.

Imagined while Goldie Hawn was asking
Marshall McLuhan, what are you doin'?
Dig it. Digit. An instant in a we.
'68. There was video tape,
and searchible reel to reel, let's test it, in a mind

re-ify, ify if I knew when time mattered last,

what would now be worth, back then?
In attention?
The ways we sow subversive verse is potentially as permanent as the web;\
which we designed to survive 1961 foreseeable destructive entities. Post debate angst...  spent in sudden frustration to prevent cardiac events.
Gr8Ryzyngz Jul 2020
Double doses
Quenching my every thirsts
Only daily bread
Earnestly prayed for
Or could ever longingly need
Food for my burning zoul
Feed me til I
Needingly no quiero mas
Surfacely speaking to my core
Knowing only
One thing's
Certainly sure
One mindedness
In We hearts iz why WE love
Is so Unbreakably strong...

— The End —