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"unfaded" poems
Metropolis is dust, the smoke of unfaded coffin nails, she's a sensual bonfire littered landscape, the burning lust running in my veins between safety and risk, circumcising the stage where Dylan went electric. ~ "I didn’t belong to anybody then or now.” Swing-shifting to mercenary mode, but sinking my face value by ordering takeout religion, sharing a cab with Hepatitis C, and all those sky-high boxes and rectangles —existing in one, spending nights with her in another. ~ *"Oh, lay me down to sleep upon the trickery of time."* ~
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Apr 27, 2021
Apr 27, 2021 at 9:36 AM UTC
City Lights
Departing summer hath assumed An aspect tenderly illumed, The gentlest look of spring; That calls from yonder leafy shade Unfaded, yet prepared to fade, A timely carolling. No faint and hesitating trill, Such tribute as to winter chill The lonely redbreast pays! Clear, loud, and lively is the din, From social warblers gathering in Their harvest of sweet lays. Nor doth the example fail to cheer Me, conscious that my leaf is sere, And yellow on the bough:— Fall, rosy garlands, from my head! Ye myrtle wreaths, your fragrance shed Around a younger brow! Yet will I temperately rejoice; Wide is the range, and free the choice Of undiscordant themes; Which, haply, kindred souls may prize Not less than vernal ecstasies, And passion’s feverish dreams. For deathless powers to verse belong, And they like Demi-gods are strong On whom the Muses smile; But some their function have disclaimed, Best pleased with what is aptliest framed To enervate and defile. Not such the initiatory strains Committed to the silent plains In Britain’s earliest dawn: Trembled the groves, the stars grew pale, While all-too-daringly the veil Of nature was withdrawn! Nor such the spirit-stirring note When the live chords Alcæus smote, Inflamed by sense of wrong; Woe! woe to Tyrants! from the lyre Broke threateningly, in sparkles dire Of fierce vindictive song. And not unhallowed was the page By wingèd Love inscribed, to assuage The pangs of vain pursuit; Love listening while the Lesbian Maid With finest touch of passion swayed Her own æolian lute. O ye, who patiently explore The wreck of Herculanean lore, What rapture! could ye seize Some Theban fragment, or unroll One precious, tender-hearted scroll Of pure Simonides. That were, indeed, a genuine birth Of poesy; a bursting forth Of genius from the dust: What Horace gloried to behold, What Maro loved, shall we enfold? Can haughty Time be just!
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2.5k
September, 1819
Departing summer hath assumed An aspect tenderly illumed, The gentlest look of spring; That calls from yonder leafy shade Unfaded, yet prepared to fade, A timely carolling. No faint and hesitating trill, Such tribute as to winter chill The lonely redbreast pays! Clear, loud, and lively is the din, From social warblers gathering in Their harvest of sweet lays. Nor doth the example fail to cheer Me, conscious that my leaf is sere, And yellow on the bough:— Fall, rosy garlands, from my head! Ye myrtle wreaths, your fragrance shed Around a younger brow! Yet will I temperately rejoice; Wide is the range, and free the choice Of undiscordant themes; Which, haply, kindred souls may prize Not less than vernal ecstasies, And passion’s feverish dreams. For deathless powers to verse belong, And they like Demi-gods are strong On whom the Muses smile; But some their function have disclaimed, Best pleased with what is aptliest framed To enervate and defile. Not such the initiatory strains Committed to the silent plains In Britain’s earliest dawn: Trembled the groves, the stars grew pale, While all-too-daringly the veil Of nature was withdrawn! Nor such the spirit-stirring note When the live chords Alcæus smote, Inflamed by sense of wrong; Woe! woe to Tyrants! from the lyre Broke threateningly, in sparkles dire Of fierce vindictive song. And not unhallowed was the page By wingèd Love inscribed, to assuage The pangs of vain pursuit; Love listening while the Lesbian Maid With finest touch of passion swayed Her own æolian lute. O ye, who patiently explore The wreck of Herculanean lore, What rapture! could ye seize Some Theban fragment, or unroll One precious, tender-hearted scroll Of pure Simonides. That were, indeed, a genuine birth Of poesy; a bursting forth Of genius from the dust: What Horace gloried to behold, What Maro loved, shall we enfold? Can haughty Time be just!
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60
In the midst of sea, we scream Where are humans? Where are super humans? None to respond to our desperate scream, In the midst of a sea, we are A deserted island One that can most likely be submerged or Reach shores unlikely By the events, we remain helpless Being human less and with inhumanness We, at the brink of death & last inch of hope Expect miracles and wonders Nature fails us Kills our expectations, fills more sorrow Nature fills our body with Slow approaching death, We remain as a secluded mass of useless disposed waste, On a world that has a place for all the flora & fauna Modern nations-the epitomes of peace Wash their hands away remain A hopeless, useless, helpless puppet Ostracized from our ancestral land Vehemently opposed and reluctantly accepted We remain a displaced alien In their eyes. There are nations, But where are humans? Where are humans? A hope puts us to survive, Where we leave a message, As we get back to the graves. We send the waves of final message; we fall, Not as a disposed waste, But as a Phoenix that falls as a nutrition, For the soil, To revive an infinite and eternal humanity That stands tall as an undestroyable banyan tree Unshakable on any crises For humanity, we give ourselves As dare-doers and daring self-killers. Let's harvest the human hearts With the ever rising flames And give back Our future generations the homes. We lost and dreams we wished With a thin ray of distant hope, We dream to give our future generations A world that has no, Hopelessness of being helpless. We assert We are helpless, but not hopeless
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Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 1:17 AM UTC
Unheard and Unfaded voice of a disappearing island
In the midst of sea, we scream Where are humans? Where are super humans? None to respond to our desperate scream, In the midst of a sea, we are A deserted island One that can most likely be submerged or Reach shores unlikely By the events, we remain helpless Being human less and with inhumanness We, at the brink of death & last inch of hope Expect miracles and wonders Nature fails us Kills our expectations, fills more sorrow Nature fills our body with Slow approaching death, We remain as a secluded mass of useless disposed waste, On a world that has a place for all the flora & fauna Modern nations-the epitomes of peace Wash their hands away remain A hopeless, useless, helpless puppet Ostracized from our ancestral land Vehemently opposed and reluctantly accepted We remain a displaced alien In their eyes. There are nations, But where are humans? Where are humans? A hope puts us to survive, Where we leave a message, As we get back to the graves. We send the waves of final message; we fall, Not as a disposed waste, But as a Phoenix that falls as a nutrition, For the soil, To revive an infinite and eternal humanity That stands tall as an undestroyable banyan tree Unshakable on any crises For humanity, we give ourselves As dare-doers and daring self-killers. Let's harvest the human hearts With the ever rising flames And give back Our future generations the homes. We lost and dreams we wished With a thin ray of distant hope, We dream to give our future generations A world that has no, Hopelessness of being helpless. We assert We are helpless, but not hopeless
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50
It's the smells, The woody, earthy laden lift in the air. A scent guilded in memories of twigs breaking under feet, As I walk to the One Stop with my dad, Wet, amber leaves stuck to his holey shoes, The air is damp and unfaded, but lightly coated in the smoke from his roll up. The smell, More floral now, Warm, heavy rain drip dropping onto vast leaves in Mexico, The floor drier and peppery compared to it's English cousin, My eyes locked onto the stars through pointed dancing clouds, As if the sky has been dipped in glitter and laid out to dry in the jungle. And now its moss, Moss and pine and your hair. It's both of us gazing through the foliage to catch the eye of a bird, Our fingers brushing and clinging, I can feel my mouth lift, As you pull me towards your nose, And whisper 'I love us.', We walk, Warm in one another's stories, With wet socks, And pink cheeks, We inhabit the trees.
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Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 7:05 AM UTC
Tree Trunks
Oh! mihi præteritos referat si Jupiter annos. VIRGIL. Ye scenes of my childhood, whose lov’d recollection Embitters the present, compar’d with the past; Where science first dawn’d on the powers of reflection, And friendships were form’d, too romantic to last; Where fancy, yet, joys to retrace the resemblance Of comrades, in friendship and mischief allied; How welcome to me your ne’er fading remembrance, Which rests in the ***** though hope is deny’d! Again I revisit the hills where we sported, The streams where we swam, and the fields where we fought; The school where, loud warn’d by the bell, we resorted, To pore o’er the precepts by Pedagogues taught. Again I behold where for hours I have ponder’d, As reclining, at eve, on yon tombstone I lay; Or round the steep brow of the churchyard I wander’d, To catch the last gleam of the sun’s setting ray. I once more view the room, with spectators surrounded, Where, as Zanga, I trod on Alonzo o’erthrown; While, to swell my young pride, such applauses resounded, I fancied that Mossop himself was outshone. Or, as Lear, I pour’d forth the deep imprecation, By my daughters, of kingdom and reason depriv’d; Till, fir’d by loud plaudits and self-adulation, I regarded myself as a Garrick reviv’d. Ye dreams of my boyhood, how much I regret you! Unfaded your memory dwells in my breast; Though sad and deserted, I ne’er can forget you: Your pleasures may still be in fancy possest. To Ida full oft may remembrance restore me, While Fate shall the shades of the future unroll! Since Darkness o’ershadows the prospect before me, More dear is the beam of the past to my soul! But if, through the course of the years which await me, Some new scene of pleasure should open to view, I will say, while with rapture the thought shall elate me, “Oh! such were the days which my infancy knew.”
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1.7k
On A Distant View Of The Village And School Of Harrow On The Hill, 1806
Oh! mihi præteritos referat si Jupiter annos. VIRGIL. Ye scenes of my childhood, whose lov’d recollection Embitters the present, compar’d with the past; Where science first dawn’d on the powers of reflection, And friendships were form’d, too romantic to last; Where fancy, yet, joys to retrace the resemblance Of comrades, in friendship and mischief allied; How welcome to me your ne’er fading remembrance, Which rests in the ***** though hope is deny’d! Again I revisit the hills where we sported, The streams where we swam, and the fields where we fought; The school where, loud warn’d by the bell, we resorted, To pore o’er the precepts by Pedagogues taught. Again I behold where for hours I have ponder’d, As reclining, at eve, on yon tombstone I lay; Or round the steep brow of the churchyard I wander’d, To catch the last gleam of the sun’s setting ray. I once more view the room, with spectators surrounded, Where, as Zanga, I trod on Alonzo o’erthrown; While, to swell my young pride, such applauses resounded, I fancied that Mossop himself was outshone. Or, as Lear, I pour’d forth the deep imprecation, By my daughters, of kingdom and reason depriv’d; Till, fir’d by loud plaudits and self-adulation, I regarded myself as a Garrick reviv’d. Ye dreams of my boyhood, how much I regret you! Unfaded your memory dwells in my breast; Though sad and deserted, I ne’er can forget you: Your pleasures may still be in fancy possest. To Ida full oft may remembrance restore me, While Fate shall the shades of the future unroll! Since Darkness o’ershadows the prospect before me, More dear is the beam of the past to my soul! But if, through the course of the years which await me, Some new scene of pleasure should open to view, I will say, while with rapture the thought shall elate me, “Oh! such were the days which my infancy knew.”
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38
The neon kisses the sidewalk below embracing strangers as they pass in all directions none seem towards home. ***** sidewalks and the slums splendor Im a gatekeeper of despair and hard luck just living for the bells chime to echo from the counter. Drunks and ****** gather within my confines the outcasts of the night my people seldom will I ever know more than a signature upon the page. Moths drawn together attaracted by neon light. Tommorows not a promise so embrace feeling and grow numb in reflex for now. Are we not twisted from exposher numb from the streets brutal truth? I count the hours a television for companion a bottle a often short staying vistor who's welcome till the hangover's regret. Some pills to drive my thoughts and a fresh *** of coffee to fuel my engine tIme kills even the most unfaded of us all. And through the night they gather some to escape the cold others for a quick escape or fast **** to forget as if in a Halloween costume soon they'll return to there true act of a life. Embrace as lover's when there nothing more than roomates hey kids were doing great you coming home for Christmas this year? And so they like well trained actors reprise there roles. But i see there mess allnight I collect the rejects nothing more but fragments glass that reflect what they wish could never be. If only we could rewind. But life's highway cant be retraced so on we roll. I collect there money and take down there names the keeper of memories tattered wings fly none the less. As for the women the far away stares are but shared thoughts of a misery more bitter we drink from the same passed down glass. Some things just don't have to be said to be understood. The nights my watch my vices fuel me for yet another round. the neon signs my beacon And the moths glide to flame with the turning of the switch. Were all ****** up but seldom can some show the flaws . I embrace them unspoken please sign here. Tommorows walk we'll pretend to not see for we all need to feel invisible sometIme. The end of my shift bids farewell to my collected chaos tired we've become in constant recollection the light is off for now.
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Nov 28, 2011
Nov 28, 2011 at 12:53 PM UTC
Vacancy
The neon kisses the sidewalk below embracing strangers as they pass in all directions none seem towards home. ***** sidewalks and the slums splendor Im a gatekeeper of despair and hard luck just living for the bells chime to echo from the counter. Drunks and ****** gather within my confines the outcasts of the night my people seldom will I ever know more than a signature upon the page. Moths drawn together attaracted by neon light. Tommorows not a promise so embrace feeling and grow numb in reflex for now. Are we not twisted from exposher numb from the streets brutal truth? I count the hours a television for companion a bottle a often short staying vistor who's welcome till the hangover's regret. Some pills to drive my thoughts and a fresh *** of coffee to fuel my engine tIme kills even the most unfaded of us all. And through the night they gather some to escape the cold others for a quick escape or fast **** to forget as if in a Halloween costume soon they'll return to there true act of a life. Embrace as lover's when there nothing more than roomates hey kids were doing great you coming home for Christmas this year? And so they like well trained actors reprise there roles. But i see there mess allnight I collect the rejects nothing more but fragments glass that reflect what they wish could never be. If only we could rewind. But life's highway cant be retraced so on we roll. I collect there money and take down there names the keeper of memories tattered wings fly none the less. As for the women the far away stares are but shared thoughts of a misery more bitter we drink from the same passed down glass. Some things just don't have to be said to be understood. The nights my watch my vices fuel me for yet another round. the neon signs my beacon And the moths glide to flame with the turning of the switch. Were all ****** up but seldom can some show the flaws . I embrace them unspoken please sign here. Tommorows walk we'll pretend to not see for we all need to feel invisible sometIme. The end of my shift bids farewell to my collected chaos tired we've become in constant recollection the light is off for now.
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36
Unfaded love from ages past It is time to let go at last, at last Make is so my heart stops burning For pleasure it is yearning, yearning Faded happiness, lost years ago Weights my soul, it feels so low, so low You gave up and I let you go We were dead wrong And now I'm dead gone.
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Jul 24, 2012
Jul 24, 2012 at 2:07 AM UTC
Unfaded love
these cold nights,I was with you. these cold nights,I spent my time talking to you. these cold nights,you were here. tell me,you'll come back. tell me you feel the same way. I'll be waiting for you if you ever come back. still,even in these cold nights,i still miss you. during these cold nights i wish to spend them with you. during these cold nights,i wish you'd be here. I wish you'd tell me you'll come back. And i wish you'd tell me you felt the same way all along. If not,then you remain my unfaded memory that still burns in the back of my mind.
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Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 9:41 AM UTC
Christmas Nights
Break the glass encased around Hear the loud crashing sound See amidst the shards you've found Is a secret long since forgotten Read the words upon the scroll Etched in ink derived from soul From half of one which once was whole Thrown into bottomless sea Pass each letter with your gaze See this love, a trivial maze Unfaded by a undaunting phrase Oh sweet love, return again
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Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 4:52 PM UTC
Message In a Bottle
helplessly, I watched the sun set before it even rose, dewdrops faded like vulnerable dawn afraid of the noon that never came... yet, why do I feel lost amongst sweet dream, oblivion in your arms and forgotten amongst my a forever once promised? you were a mirage but the heartache you left was real and hurting... you left hope hopeless still I am a believer; my scars your reminder.
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Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 5:56 AM UTC
Unfaded
As the Northern winds let loose My thoughts they turn to you The mystery to my moments My cool September blue You left a trail of flowers I wish to follow and pursue You left memories unfaded My cool September blue You kissed me in the season Held me in the dawn of truth Thawed the chill of reason Turned my senses loose The furnace of my heart Cannot warm me now I shudder, chasing my thoughts As they chase your ghost somehow Leaving me momentarily breathless Without a summers clue Hoping to find you in time My cool September blue I know you'll come again And bring a brighter hue But for now, I stare in silence My cool September blue
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Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 10:12 PM UTC
My Cool September Blue
died without knowing the truth of what happened. the past unforgiven and never again forgotten. memories lost are now found. no justice in a world that is round. a sadistic amnesia with repair to the damaged mind. my heart breaks with what I find. remembering a soul mate too late. when it mattered the most. I now stalk his ghost. a bodyguard untrusting. a sickness was lusting. evidence remembered but undiscovered. a last will and testament in the wrong hands. npg was his band and 3rdeyedgirl became his new world. he found me when I could not remember. after he died my memory returned. my heart cracked and burned. his essence cremated. his assets debated. his legend unfaded. my soul forever waited. a destiny outdated. an image unhated. a body degraded. now extinguished. pure intentions never mentioned. to bring him back a miracle I wished. I would give anything to make true. to restore his life new. so together we can be two.
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Jun 13, 2017
Jun 13, 2017 at 6:04 PM UTC
an undeserving end to a priceless existence
He held my face and lingered Eyes like the stormy seas As if I could see into the world Where he and I are free And the sky lit up with clouds Where love overcomes death His face unfaded like the sun For what is lost are only feelings Moved by the wind unsung
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Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 2:11 PM UTC
None Can Die
Your black, charcoal eyes Enchantingly hypnotic Like dreamy autumn kiss On my skin Ignite my unfaded passion
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Sep 26, 2017
Sep 26, 2017 at 7:06 AM UTC
Hypnotic eyes
Do you ever cry for things long past? For some things you miss, And times that wouldn't last? Do you ever wish for memories, Those days of joy and bliss, To return again with ease? Do you ever weep for loved ones gone? For words said in haste That can't be withdrawn? Do you ever hear their falling tears? Flowing free and unrestrained, Unfaded through all these years? Do you ever seek forgiveness pure? Having brought what they've faced And been made to endure? Do you ever wish to apologize? Show love unfeigned? And dry tear soaked eyes? Do you feel that love inside you grow? Wanting nothing more Than to ensure they know? And in joyous embrace felt through skin to the core, See that love in THEIR face, And NEW memories in store ©Neil F. 9-30-2013
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Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 1:24 AM UTC
I Do
Vast Winter I have you Under cloud and sullen skies Revolving endless loss - Life Closed utterly Over impressions of Summer Like faded ancestral footprints In arid and dry wilderness - Choked We breathe And turn rested on past horizons, Sure memory poised and pressed Unfaded prints as fresh as yesterday; The aching of soft sorrow Peels the ever intruding smile.
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Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 3:20 PM UTC
Beauty in sadness
Morning commences with the friendly clink of cups, sitting beside the tea cosy-clad kettle, Fresh, calming fragrance of warm tea nudging at My just-awakened senses, a little unsettled, My favorite ghazal colors the background, The record though scratchy, its influence unfaded; Abida Khanum mellowly croons, urging her lover to not insist on leaving that day. I smell, instinctively, the red rose he hands me, The same rose had traced my skin in the dark The missing petals testimony to its journey Over troughs and crests, marks and landmarks. What is so utterly, heartwarmingly romantic about something as simple as him spreading butter on bread, mixing sugar in chai, what makes his 'routine', for me so endearing? He watches me eat, breaks into a smile so wide, 'How do you enchant me, even with the mundane?' he asks, same question amusing us both, Same passion coursing through our veins. The poetess inside me, happily chuckles, Of being the one expressive, of solely giving away- Are the days of the past, as breakfast in bed Becomes our way of Give and Take
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Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 5:41 PM UTC
Give and Take
Strings sharpen the plane of my words Psalms heaves as the knife cut my words These blades shall never hurt me anymore These blades are the weapon of the unsuffered Once I locked the heart within a flame Turns and meanders of the fearless and lame These blades shall never hurt me anymore These blades are the weapon of the unsuffered Angels whispers of the undue fortunes As tears billow in the depths of the tunes These blades shall never hurt me anymore These blades are the weapon of the unsuffered The rhythm cuts me in halves under troughs Diced under the authority of dragons These blades shall never hurt me anymore These blades are the weapon of the unsuffered Here I am once again, overturned all latches Words once again over unfaded skins These blades shall never hurt me anymore These blades are the weapon of the unsuffered
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Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 6:57 PM UTC
Bleep Bleep...... Bleed Bleed
*Two events Remain unfaded In my life That beatific day When you being Covered my conscious And that demonic day When that accusation decapitated every cell of my tender heart How still I am hopeful Like a honeybee in union with YOU my LOVE flower*
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Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 1:07 AM UTC
My LOVE flower...
I need you to understand my silence not my eloquent words of wisdom not my mountain of intellect not my impactful insights on the world not my ability to introspect. I know not of these things. I need you to understand my existence what exists in me through my experience carrying loved ones unfaded persistent optimistic consistent hope.
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Dec 16, 2020
Dec 16, 2020 at 3:32 AM UTC
I need you to understand my silence
All coveted gladsomeness is near it's end, and from all it's foolish manifestations I must refrain. Despite this I do offer something of my intimacy, without frustrations or complaint; my legacy to come before my decadence, not after, (tho I am without fortune in even this regard.) I give of myself freely for I know generous equivalence to such an award is given thereafter, and without restraint. It will not be just a reward, but a just reward. Blessed am I in my unfaded attitude, for I have discovered how to gaze on attributes, not thru my old insensate reveries, but after personal growth -despite hearing the defeatists scholarly jokes- those remorseless platitudes, unjust whisperings on the philosophies of human constructs and concerns throughout history; these meandering mortals and their mutterings then to scatter thru the great hall! So be it so, I will be understanding, cordial. After all, I still have to undergo the passive experience, to go on examining the concrete nature of this thingness in awe of a heightened certainty where esteem and pride must be earned by all, a sense inspiring of something far better, a spirit untied, unfettered, is that impulse of the will that urges humanity on by strong moral pressure.
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Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 1:04 AM UTC
Legacy of Humanity
The yellow taciturn highlights of your room The glistening of your crystal eyes Snow globe domicile Star studded decorum Infinity unfaded in the ribbon of our embrace Recurring dreams of our hypothetical life together. And dreams apart. Seperate our bodies but not our souls nor our hearts.
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Jan 9, 2016
Jan 9, 2016 at 3:18 AM UTC
The same old song.
There is a wonder I have of creatures The sky is ridden with stars Can they see them? And do they wonder and awe at the dots on what should be a blank sky There is a wonder I have of mine Is their dreaming before the dawn of time? Are we dreaming in utero? Who created our dreams? Was there ever a time we did not exist Is the past but a figment?
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Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 6:07 AM UTC
Unfaded
It was a day like today Thursday winds and blues when I was ushered on the volcanic soil It was a day like yesterday Wednesday lights and blooms when I prepared to leave the womb and touch the web of the world The disconnect from the placenta was the start of the absentness inquisitive of this voyage the forgone past I left For what karma should I learn? in a world that I am perceived as weird and out of control who can teach me to be? For what karma should I learn? as a non conformist creature one who can't acquiesce in this inauthentic existence It was a day like today A Thursday of torrential rain When I felt the pain of the world the unfaded tears of the masses It was a day like tomorrow A Friday of hope and love when I long to make a difference Fuel my being with zest and joy
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Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 2:07 PM UTC
My Birthday