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"unfailingly" poems
*She's like deliquescent caramel, the cool side of a pillow         to lay your weary head, subtleties of springtime &      warmth in wintertide, whispering hope upon lush           Zephyrus pipe dreams,   mellifluous nymph with wings                  of a butterfly warrior, softly determined,     unfailingly true-hearted,      whilst relentlessly ferocious   Wise, yet sometimes struts        blindly in the light,      as dulcet tones of a cello's         melodious marmalade          in sentiment's tender fancy, she's beauty, charm,          knowledge, poetry,                utter strength,                & humane weaknesses, she's twisted and ethereal,            her aura sublimely captivating      you may covet her body,             you'll never possess her soul*
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Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 9:32 AM UTC
She's like deliquescent caramel
∙∙∙◦◦•◎•◦◦∙∙∙ Shut the doors and drift the words away we act like rascals toiling with our frays weakening to the knees idyllic river feels, reaching an ominous sea longing our moments as our tale would breathe She adores many may it be pretty in pink or baby in blues but I like most a lot how she paints prism hues unfailingly she tells me —that she's in love and I could tell in her gleaming smile extending up above She's the Juliet I would never trade the starlight in between my midnight eyes the snow I would trail A poem and A prose everyone's dying to sigh a binding might our hearts of ribbons tied and we sat to an oriel —above the bedroom floor touching hands grasping each other’s core a common connection the afterglows of love a better reason as we left kisses to depart
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Nov 6, 2017
Nov 6, 2017 at 10:11 AM UTC
A Mutual Afterglow
"Nadia" "Hope," it means. "Beautiful," they say. "Kind," she is. "Caring," they are. "Nadia." She is the ever-hopeful, The triply beautiful, The very kindhearted, The infinitely caring. "Nadia"'s. They are the unendingly positive, The unfairly lovely, The unduly affable, The unfailingly kind. "Nadia," oh, how she shines So brightly, so comfortingly. "Nadia," oh, how she loves Without judgement or favor. But I am not "Nadia." I am Nadia.
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Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 9:59 PM UTC
"Nadia."
The Whys of My Briefcase don't know where you keep yours, mine, immediately resigned, to my black briefcase the bills I cannot pay, the notices that I knew would unfailingly come some day, the letters to my children, signed, sealed but never to be delivered till much later, maybe, by someone else's hand and so, I carry my briefcase every day, an appendage human, opens only for additions, never any subtractions, many reminders included, for letters previous posted, sent, and stamped~marked past, way past, overdue the authorities demand satisfaction, at the very least they want my whereabouts the doctors asks, what's wrong, you never filled that essential prescription~poem I wrote for you, that was even writ legible so you could not deny its existing urgency that **** briefcase is so heavy, tempted to chuck it into the Peconic, but it was a loving gift from her, not realizing that I carried no case, just so burdens invisible were imagined lighter, or extinct, but easily ignored where do you keep yours? the forget~me~knots that you don't want but can't crush legally or courageously when they open that unhappy pandora, they will wonder why nothing was e'er said, but they won't ask twice, but understand, for who among us does not have a black briefcase?
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Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 7:18 AM UTC
The Whys of My Briefcase
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) - 64 BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem Oh the Loved one, Who is my Beloved! In the deserted land, there is a Sacred Mountain’ Fondly, called as The Mountain Of Light’s (Jabal Al Noor) ' Where my Divine Creator Imitate His Own Light' And carefully guarded by the Numerous Angels, Towards the Sacred Mountain (Jabal Al Noor)! My Beloved visits daily towards the Peak (Jabal Al Noor) Where his rest place Cave (Hira) itself based. He climbs at rosy dawn, towards the sacred peak, To freely meditate towards his Divine Creator! Allow me, to unfailingly follow you; Until the Cave (Hira) entrance, And comfort Your attractive Paws as your feet dust. I devotedly follow You, Oh my Beloved! Towards the Cave (Hira); Upon the Peak (Jabal Al Noor) Don't look down for stack of crude stones, Or don't be worried about any cruel thorns. At Dawn, Very difficult to track the visible path, I dearly want to live as his dainty shoes' Hence, He can climb carefully every glorious day. Let my Beloved’ peacefully sit and Meditate Let Him recite, The One and Only (Iqra Bismi Rabika) Thru the Dear Angel (Jibreel), Therefore, He can reveal the Divine truth! I will wait respectfully outside, Until He solely speaks, the divine truism. Therefore, I can correctly grasp; Through My Beloved the eternal truth (Noble Quran)! The unknown truth of the Divine Creator (Allah) And His Eternal Existence (The Noble Throne) Upon the sacred Mountain Of Light’s! (Jabal Al Noor)! Allah Khair..... Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem Ummah Thurab - Badshah Khan. ©UT-BK 2019
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Mar 4, 2019
Mar 4, 2019 at 5:13 AM UTC
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) - 64
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) - 64 BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem Oh the Loved one, Who is my Beloved! In the deserted land, there is a Sacred Mountain’ Fondly, called as The Mountain Of Light’s (Jabal Al Noor) ' Where my Divine Creator Imitate His Own Light' And carefully guarded by the Numerous Angels, Towards the Sacred Mountain (Jabal Al Noor)! My Beloved visits daily towards the Peak (Jabal Al Noor) Where his rest place Cave (Hira) itself based. He climbs at rosy dawn, towards the sacred peak, To freely meditate towards his Divine Creator! Allow me, to unfailingly follow you; Until the Cave (Hira) entrance, And comfort Your attractive Paws as your feet dust. I devotedly follow You, Oh my Beloved! Towards the Cave (Hira); Upon the Peak (Jabal Al Noor) Don't look down for stack of crude stones, Or don't be worried about any cruel thorns. At Dawn, Very difficult to track the visible path, I dearly want to live as his dainty shoes' Hence, He can climb carefully every glorious day. Let my Beloved’ peacefully sit and Meditate Let Him recite, The One and Only (Iqra Bismi Rabika) Thru the Dear Angel (Jibreel), Therefore, He can reveal the Divine truth! I will wait respectfully outside, Until He solely speaks, the divine truism. Therefore, I can correctly grasp; Through My Beloved the eternal truth (Noble Quran)! The unknown truth of the Divine Creator (Allah) And His Eternal Existence (The Noble Throne) Upon the sacred Mountain Of Light’s! (Jabal Al Noor)! Allah Khair..... Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem Ummah Thurab - Badshah Khan. ©UT-BK 2019
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37
With the ocean drift away From this world led astray With sands in your hand As if everything is by your command By the gentle wind that went by Be taken far to the heavenly sky Tis this feeling of freedom For all sufferings you shall overcome Let the stars lead you right My dear lovely sight Always here by your side Till our worlds collide Never shall you be alone Nor shall be left forlorn With my prayers unfailingly Holding your hand till eternity For we are bereft of separation As this heart knows no distinction For our mirrored souls will never part As i held you dear from the very start May God hold you close Be His beloved most Blessed with His warm embrace For all the rest of your days May He smile always upon you my Rainbow Such Silver Lining i'll never let go May thy Hereafter be filled with His Love As angels welcome you to His kingdom above May God hear this silent plea May He see you as I see thee Forever shall I be A blessing to you by the Almighty
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Jul 31, 2022
Jul 31, 2022 at 7:23 PM UTC
Silver Lining
Brushes of Golden spark, Igniting enigmatic eyes…. Bringing out the beauty inside out. Often they say “you’re beautiful”, Seldom they mean… Invariably unfailingly they match beauty inside and out. Capricious souls, always on lookout Claiming to love roses with thorns… Petrified with inside beauty if blown out. Malignant steps attempting to curb the blaze Demanding normality… For they dread the glowing light shining out It’s time to oppose the crowd Leaving those hollow soothings unanswered… Use that helpless wonder for the fears to break out. As the sun sets to rest Glorious reality checking in… Take that burning desire to shine from inside and out.
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Jun 25, 2020
Jun 25, 2020 at 7:06 AM UTC
Beauty Inside Out
As the winds break into small feathered kisses and idly burden the heart this May day I lament for all the long withered wishes once whose petals bloomed on my way. A begone time love feeling unfailingly true a touch that left a long hovering trail on the probing soul fertile they grew before cruel days wore them frail. Aspirations soared on sun blazed wings they had to be have on awakened nights the innocent's hunts for the most precious things haloed in passions of untamable sights. On feathered winds were they drifted and gone notions of love and visions to build high but by their fire made me a man leaving imprints as the years went by.
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May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 4:57 AM UTC
Feathered Winds
You stand in front of me seeking knowledge of the unknown. What Door Is Locked, Which Door You Talk About, Atul. Today I Talk About The Doorway To Heaven, But Do You Possess The Credibility Even. This Is A Question - Right? Yeah, This Is A Question... Didn't Sound Like One! Okay, I'm Sorry But You Should Just Answer Me *Heaven is Not a Place Unfamiliar to Me, The Door was Against the Common Notion Black. Heaven is a Place Where Bland Mixtures of Happy, And Sad Emotions Fly Lightly Through Our Minds Unfailingly. Nobody Ever Clearly Remembers of What Heaven Was Like, I Experienced Heaven in The Peace of My Long Comatose State.* But Where Did We Miss Out on The Doorway Part?? Be Patient. Okay, We Would Be... *Good, Now Listen Carefully Without Interrupting Me. Even Though I Missed My Girlfriend, More Did I Miss My College Than I Did Her.* You nod your head and say, It's Obvious, Many Guys Feel So. I shake my head, Not Many Guys Would Feel Exactly The Same & Don't Interrupt Me Please. Seeing you ready to listen more, I comfort my shoulders to continue, *I Missed The Underprivileged Kids More Than I Missed Her, I Missed Imparting Them Elementary Education, I Missed The Feeling of Being Close, Close To The Door Of Heaven, Their Houses In The Slum, The One Close To The College, Seemed Exactly - Actually Like It, The Eternal Doorway To Heaven & I Found It, So Peaceful, Calm And As Much Meaningful To Serve.* I end up my dialogue undisturbed, Yeah, That's The Doorway To Heaven Which I Had Found. You are running a rapid thought process in your mind, Is That It? I smile & Reply, Yes That's It, Thank You. You further ask, But What If We Feel Heavenly Elsewhere, Does It Matter? This time I nod my head and say, It Could Be Anywhere You Feel Happy From Your Heart & Free From All Your Doubts About The Reason's Morality.
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Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 6:23 AM UTC
How The Door Is Locked
You stand in front of me seeking knowledge of the unknown. What Door Is Locked, Which Door You Talk About, Atul. Today I Talk About The Doorway To Heaven, But Do You Possess The Credibility Even. This Is A Question - Right? Yeah, This Is A Question... Didn't Sound Like One! Okay, I'm Sorry But You Should Just Answer Me *Heaven is Not a Place Unfamiliar to Me, The Door was Against the Common Notion Black. Heaven is a Place Where Bland Mixtures of Happy, And Sad Emotions Fly Lightly Through Our Minds Unfailingly. Nobody Ever Clearly Remembers of What Heaven Was Like, I Experienced Heaven in The Peace of My Long Comatose State.* But Where Did We Miss Out on The Doorway Part?? Be Patient. Okay, We Would Be... *Good, Now Listen Carefully Without Interrupting Me. Even Though I Missed My Girlfriend, More Did I Miss My College Than I Did Her.* You nod your head and say, It's Obvious, Many Guys Feel So. I shake my head, Not Many Guys Would Feel Exactly The Same & Don't Interrupt Me Please. Seeing you ready to listen more, I comfort my shoulders to continue, *I Missed The Underprivileged Kids More Than I Missed Her, I Missed Imparting Them Elementary Education, I Missed The Feeling of Being Close, Close To The Door Of Heaven, Their Houses In The Slum, The One Close To The College, Seemed Exactly - Actually Like It, The Eternal Doorway To Heaven & I Found It, So Peaceful, Calm And As Much Meaningful To Serve.* I end up my dialogue undisturbed, Yeah, That's The Doorway To Heaven Which I Had Found. You are running a rapid thought process in your mind, Is That It? I smile & Reply, Yes That's It, Thank You. You further ask, But What If We Feel Heavenly Elsewhere, Does It Matter? This time I nod my head and say, It Could Be Anywhere You Feel Happy From Your Heart & Free From All Your Doubts About The Reason's Morality.
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40
When I look down into the water I can see a version of me I'm all too familiar with. A one dimensional black shadow that ripples unfailingly. The days I can see myself as a whole being, I stretch my skin, looking for small flesh wounds, the ones no one ever looks close enough to see. On the inside, I'm all bones, I'm pumping a dark red. My organs slowly rot until they turn into a golden brown. I stand sharp like a needle in a crowded room. Is there some way I could compact my bones, blood, body fat and shadow into to something smaller? Is there a way to fold into myself physically as I do mentally?
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May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 11:41 PM UTC
folding into myself
Rhythmically Pulsing, Unfailingly Beating, Tirelessly Pumping, It doesn't until last rest... It doesn't rest until last... The "Dag-Dag Dag-Dag Dag-Dag", The "Boom-Boom Boom-Boom", The "Bleep-Bleep Bleep-Bleep", It doesn't get tired normally... It doesn't normally get tired... The heart-ache happens, Aaah-aah-aah-aah-aah..!! Tired-old rig starts failing, The fading "Dag-Dag Dag-Dag Dag-Dag", The failing "Boom-Boom Boom-Boom", The fainting "Bleep-Bleep Bleep-Bleep", The pain then subsides to either of the two... Either it can take a loan of few more years or.. It halts ultimately to relieve itself & the bearer.
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Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 11:10 PM UTC
The Functional Unit
i used to lie awake smitten. enamored. giddy. itemizing your sweet details fondly reminiscing the thought of you was too delectable to trade for sleep. sleep is still elusive you are still the cause but the thought of you is sour to taste. you unfailingly pervade my thoughts. memories are tainted exacerbated by the comparative sweetness they (you) once promised i wish i could just collar you and make you hear all the things i tell myself i'd say. until then, insomnia's got me clutched in its pitiless talons.
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Feb 10, 2013
Feb 10, 2013 at 12:31 AM UTC
budding insomniac
~~~ when between the table and the fridge, she wishes to pass, and I, obstacle roundly present, am alerted by a gentle squeeze of my *** happily acknowledging the purposed duality of her **cheekiest, sweetest, signal given** ~~~ a food array presented, paprika colored roasted chicken, spaghetti squash salted, salad with cranberries, candy walnuts, even raisins hidden within and all before me placed she objects little, with eyes silent uplifted like two pie rollers in striking position, when I commence to sup, with my just dessert of apple crisp, that by coming first, is grandly philosophized, that today, "the last shall be first" ~~~ she wakes me prematurely, her only cause, the intruding concept of her successfully doing the telling, first one to win the everyday claiming race, the first to say on this day, I love you foremost and also, "haha I win" **** it** ~~~ miscreant me, happy loafer, habitual offender of other things that the censors here, would not permit explicitly disclosing, for which she looks wise away, mumbling only "half of his addiction to cinnamon raisin loaf, still, far, far, better than none" ~~~ I know she loves me cause: 1) she likes unfailingly every one of my poems (a half truth) 2) she loves best, faithfully, those she loves the best, that are the ones that release, without permission asked, those that come with a side of tissues, at the ready, to be emergency issued those tissues I call, the ladies-in-waiting for the gentlest stream of tears
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Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 6:00 PM UTC
five for fighting (or loving)
~~~ when between the table and the fridge, she wishes to pass, and I, obstacle roundly present, am alerted by a gentle squeeze of my *** happily acknowledging the purposed duality of her **cheekiest, sweetest, signal given** ~~~ a food array presented, paprika colored roasted chicken, spaghetti squash salted, salad with cranberries, candy walnuts, even raisins hidden within and all before me placed she objects little, with eyes silent uplifted like two pie rollers in striking position, when I commence to sup, with my just dessert of apple crisp, that by coming first, is grandly philosophized, that today, "the last shall be first" ~~~ she wakes me prematurely, her only cause, the intruding concept of her successfully doing the telling, first one to win the everyday claiming race, the first to say on this day, I love you foremost and also, "haha I win" **** it** ~~~ miscreant me, happy loafer, habitual offender of other things that the censors here, would not permit explicitly disclosing, for which she looks wise away, mumbling only "half of his addiction to cinnamon raisin loaf, still, far, far, better than none" ~~~ I know she loves me cause: 1) she likes unfailingly every one of my poems (a half truth) 2) she loves best, faithfully, those she loves the best, that are the ones that release, without permission asked, those that come with a side of tissues, at the ready, to be emergency issued those tissues I call, the ladies-in-waiting for the gentlest stream of tears
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62
That silence crept up behind you And you didn't have a chance Unfailingly it shall remind The seas you've crossed The times when greed made you blind Stopping round the corners where You find some missing parts around Where you find these lovers abound That is when you know it all And you just go stop and stare One hand up and one hand down Scooping up the stories around I've got them in a bag inside While I twist fate in a frown Gathering all the dreams inside That the story left incomplete And left you wondering What might have been and what may be The skies you've seen The times of utter frivolity Strange creatures all making homes Light and dark all make it gray Calling you for a permanent stay That is when you don't realise And your heart still roams One hand up and one hand down Searching all the hearts around I've got them in a bag inside While I twist fate in a frown Gathering all the dreams inside In a rapture, you just forget You sway and tumble in a haze Startled you keep steady yet You want to stay eternally awake Till your dreams would let Over the storm and rocks you swam Till you find the place you want Its as though fate brought you here to taunt As you don't have all whom you love Was it all a ******* scam? One hand up and one hand down Keep gathering the stardust around I've got them in a bag inside While I twist fate in a frown Gathering all the dreams inside
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Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 2:35 PM UTC
Gathering them Dreams
In the gondola bobbing above the waves she sits like an apparition drenched in  golden morning light he wishes to elope with, to an island distant hoping to live there for eons, till they grow very, very old, defying death that in many forms they know for certain, will chase from behind like a vengeful hound He sings a barcarole. to mislead miseries and death, that fallows, she weeps, oh! the sufferings love brings to them both! yet their hearts were too pure, always rejoiced. The song he sings is on sacrifice for love on lovers defying conventions together they ran away to a far away place but sweet love sometimes brings them to sudden turns , cruel some times, they lied down their lives, felled by swords, for raising the banner of revolt, in the name of love. From her eyes tears flow uncontrollably, she sobs, as of it happens to them, the song, nears it's end, he is stunned by her overwhelming emotion, does it portend something bad? His barcarole comes to an abrupt end, what does he see ahead, a volatile crowd, what is this commotion all about, would someone please tell? Are they waiting for the lovers with drawn swords? Love has found martyrs, unfailingly once more, Let the waters in this canal in Venice, be red again.
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Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 11:22 AM UTC
Tragic love
In the costume drama of the universe, there are no roles we haven't donned, we ruled the seas, land and skies, in an oblivious flow beyond eons. A million years ago, one morning, I stood here, a Neanderthal, naked facing an ebullient sea, ecstatic, in the frenzy of creation. On a tree branch you sat, near a bird with colorful plumes, that sang for my heart to rejoice, the tune had something ethereal that transformed me to a handsome pagan, so sudden, tears streaming down my cheeks, words eluding, I promised to pay you later, for that invaluable gift, magical you waved your wings and said, "See you later" Today, you flashed your smile, and I remembered the song, that transformed me to a man on my winding road to evolution. Now, you sit looking at my eyes, oblivious of our past an alluring lass, a bird from paradise, touching my heart yet again. You said, "As I saw you in the crowd, some thoughts, mysterious rushed in as if I know you, some time, perhaps a life before? *"The truth is " I murmured in  to your ears- "One million years, aren't that far" you might not understand, but your heart did answer those eyes unfailingly told me at once.*
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Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 9:12 AM UTC
On the shores of time, yet again
Behind the extreme luster of pearl of the orient sea tons of covenants, precedents, and laws But why O' why I unfailingly see the same pathway to exiguity
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Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 10:43 PM UTC
Faint Over the Glaze
What do I do? I watch. I sleep, I eat, I breathe with everything. I move as others do. My muscles are infinitely woven with strands of life, intricate designs etched forever into my being. The curve of my lips reaches across the deep, the soles of my worn feet swim with the wind across stretches of dusky sand. I feel pain, I feel pleasure, I feel every step of the nearby beetle. I am aware of the omnipresence of the light pouring; sometimes I wonder if that, too, is shining from within me--maybe from the crowns of my fingernails? Or the flat plane of skin along my inner thigh?--a question with a hidden answer, stuffed somewhere in forgotten shelves on faraway hills. I sit on a balance, watching time travel down the hourglass. I shrivel and I soar, I blow and destroy, but I always perch comfortably, palms firm on the granite, shoulders unfailingly square. Do you? I do. I am.
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Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 8:42 AM UTC
Let it out
Do not let the faces fool you. Every bump in the night, May be the cruel figments of your mind Hoping to ignite the illusion of utter insanity. Do not for one second Believe in the spine-chilling moans that seem to leak from every unsightly crevice of your disfigured thoughts.   Do not allow yourself To slip from the serrated edge of sanity, Even for a fleeting moment. For the comfort is short-lived, And the slope is endless. Do not stare too long At the scorched bodies of men, Contorted into the soot covered demons That will unfailingly materialize In your loneliness. Do not take the threats, Which echo in the Impenetrable darkness, lightly. They are the fabrication of your own self destruction. Do not think They won’t bury you alive, Every chance they get. Leaving the decaying scent of wilting roses atop the mounds of dirt. Where they will scrawl your name in haste across a grimy tombstone. Do net let The voices sway you into madness. For they will play your vulnerability with the fingers of a skilled harpist. Leaving you so intoxicated with the sweet melody that you will believe you asked for your own demise. Do not forget the flimsy nature of your deteriorating mind, when appealing whispers begin to ring in your ears. They are merely hoping to glimpse your downfall. Remember, not to let them get the best of you. that if you find anything salvageable In the chaos inside your head, or the tsunami inside your heart. Grasp onto the little beam of hope, and begin putting yourself back together.
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Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 10:36 PM UTC
When the voices in your head won't shut up
Do not let the faces fool you. Every bump in the night, May be the cruel figments of your mind Hoping to ignite the illusion of utter insanity. Do not for one second Believe in the spine-chilling moans that seem to leak from every unsightly crevice of your disfigured thoughts.   Do not allow yourself To slip from the serrated edge of sanity, Even for a fleeting moment. For the comfort is short-lived, And the slope is endless. Do not stare too long At the scorched bodies of men, Contorted into the soot covered demons That will unfailingly materialize In your loneliness. Do not take the threats, Which echo in the Impenetrable darkness, lightly. They are the fabrication of your own self destruction. Do not think They won’t bury you alive, Every chance they get. Leaving the decaying scent of wilting roses atop the mounds of dirt. Where they will scrawl your name in haste across a grimy tombstone. Do net let The voices sway you into madness. For they will play your vulnerability with the fingers of a skilled harpist. Leaving you so intoxicated with the sweet melody that you will believe you asked for your own demise. Do not forget the flimsy nature of your deteriorating mind, when appealing whispers begin to ring in your ears. They are merely hoping to glimpse your downfall. Remember, not to let them get the best of you. that if you find anything salvageable In the chaos inside your head, or the tsunami inside your heart. Grasp onto the little beam of hope, and begin putting yourself back together.
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54
Unfailingly unsure and uneasy at the thought of a God but I begged the sky for direction last night. Bawling on the shoulder of the Big Dipper like it's my long lost mother, biding my time for an answer and scrutinizing for a sign, I still can hear nothing in return. I'm prying open it's mouth to hear it say that I am not bad and I am not slipping away but she is silent and I can feel that I am. Looking down towards the ground I cannot help but think that this is the fate that my stars have left me; between home and where I live. SO I SURRENDER. I'm giving up the bottle before the bottle gives up on me. Wanting something more than the intoxicated chemical romances and I've grown sick and tired of chewing people up and spitting them back out. Wanting something more for my own sake because I don't want to be a good for nothing any further and I've grown sick and tired of killing myself just like you've killed me in your brain. Unfailingly unsure and uneasy at the thought of "Me" but I begged the sky for direction last night.
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Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
Once Upon a Second Time Around
Some days I just don't have the words So I ask him to provide for me All the pros for my failing verse And unfailingly he does this for me Because he always simply is As I will never ever be Half as clever as my God can be
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Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 3:46 PM UTC
Cleverness
The excuses on your lips make me wish your tongue was a dull dead thing. The teeth chatter like insect wings scraping my ears burning my cheeks. Empty like my stomach, my mind whirls why do we care so much about the ones stuck too deep in this world that's ****** As if through some amazing feat we could change the way they breathe. No, go home, be lost to sleep because your efforts are sad and unfailingly weak.
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Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 8:56 PM UTC
We Gravitate Towards the Misunderstood
From the Prayer of Saint Ignatius of Loyola (see notes) <> the phrase grabs my eyelids, a forced opening, nay, a denial of closing, our most human and natural escape hatch and I wonder… is it self~slander, or is it the obverse, that explores a desire to enumerate honestly for what is…is… let the costs count us! is that it? merely poetry airy escapery, what passes for  t r u t h  in these dark days? <> the damning costs count me in their number!p as ****** <!> hapless victim of living, pondering ponderous divination of saintly defiant definitions of ‘greater good’ ’tis the difficile, entre the pill and the bitter, oh so bitter the herbs, for it is so plainly & so hard to differentiate, et distinguer mais être distingué(1) distinguish tween but not to be distinguished memories that are costs disguised, reverting as dreams, in the true~alone hours of the twenty four, when it’s just you, & fighter and worthy opponent them costs, who needs no definition tolling the steeple bells of utter anguish, as you're thre greatest living expert in these matters, (le plus personnel) the sins of action and transaction, And the worst, those  truly heinous inactions, face off in opposition in the boxing ring <> and the costs paid, a savage skilled opponent, intimate of your every trickery, the bare knuckled brawler, whose knows, knows! the true tally, the bodies you’ve buried, the children witnesses to your creative abominations, lies you tell no one else, but yourself- every single day! the urge to cease here grows stronger by the second, minutes past and les défenses have risen, what disclosures revelations bring forgiveness? this my spotlight, caught in the headlights, where fessing up is in reverse, fessing down to the black bottom, where ugliness is the normative and vain attempts at denial offers no escapes from glutinous disgusting mess of gelled of nothing but the truth nah, you don’t want to know, what a human can accomplish in a short seven decades of decadence and recount constantly the costs of consternation <> so I‘ll let you retreat to the gray masses all your own where your very owned wonderings are intercepted for where I go now willingly, unfailingly, failing needing not, requiring not no company
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Jul 13, 2024
Jul 13, 2024 at 7:17 AM UTC
“and (not) to count the costs...”
From the Prayer of Saint Ignatius of Loyola (see notes) <> the phrase grabs my eyelids, a forced opening, nay, a denial of closing, our most human and natural escape hatch and I wonder… is it self~slander, or is it the obverse, that explores a desire to enumerate honestly for what is…is… let the costs count us! is that it? merely poetry airy escapery, what passes for  t r u t h  in these dark days? <> the damning costs count me in their number!p as ****** <!> hapless victim of living, pondering ponderous divination of saintly defiant definitions of ‘greater good’ ’tis the difficile, entre the pill and the bitter, oh so bitter the herbs, for it is so plainly & so hard to differentiate, et distinguer mais être distingué(1) distinguish tween but not to be distinguished memories that are costs disguised, reverting as dreams, in the true~alone hours of the twenty four, when it’s just you, & fighter and worthy opponent them costs, who needs no definition tolling the steeple bells of utter anguish, as you're thre greatest living expert in these matters, (le plus personnel) the sins of action and transaction, And the worst, those  truly heinous inactions, face off in opposition in the boxing ring <> and the costs paid, a savage skilled opponent, intimate of your every trickery, the bare knuckled brawler, whose knows, knows! the true tally, the bodies you’ve buried, the children witnesses to your creative abominations, lies you tell no one else, but yourself- every single day! the urge to cease here grows stronger by the second, minutes past and les défenses have risen, what disclosures revelations bring forgiveness? this my spotlight, caught in the headlights, where fessing up is in reverse, fessing down to the black bottom, where ugliness is the normative and vain attempts at denial offers no escapes from glutinous disgusting mess of gelled of nothing but the truth nah, you don’t want to know, what a human can accomplish in a short seven decades of decadence and recount constantly the costs of consternation <> so I‘ll let you retreat to the gray masses all your own where your very owned wonderings are intercepted for where I go now willingly, unfailingly, failing needing not, requiring not no company
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Huge are the empty spaces between us Distance 'tween the two of us is huge As if we had been millennia distant Unaware of each other's existence I believe that we had had to meet Long before all this life on earth Beyond scope of space and time Yes we will be meeting someday Xenial rituals we both will follow Waiting since several incarnations Since eternity we have been waiting Crescent of our relationship increases Plying along the tough roads unfailingly Equally perplexing are the difficulties Heads furnished with thorny crowns Fervently sustaining through them Moving on the road less travelled Gaining many milestones we go Jarring like youngers all along Kissing freakishly we make out Night or day - we would not care Ornamental things wouldn't count Rarely felt is such love which we do Quintessentially counting will be love Trembling is that finger pointing at us Venerable will be the age of our love
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Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 7:19 AM UTC
Venerable Love