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"uninterrupted" poems
We always know where our towels are so we can help each other out ‘Cause we protect each other without ever a doubt Even when one swears the other has puddin’ in their head We still trust each other, both with guiding and being led Whenever you have a Hat-and-or-Wig Party, I’ll be there Because while three’s company, us two is a constant pair I’ll be the first to reward you with five minutes of uninterrupted eye contact Because always supporting each other is our unwritten contract I’ll sit and watch a movie with you, even if it’s Sweded Because just hanging out with you is all that is needed Even if all we did in a day was roll in ze hay I know that we would still have fun anyway Whether anyone says we were brought together by fate, destiny… or a horse All that matters is that we are forever family on the same course Even if there’s no meteoroid, severe loss of blood or death, We’re there to help each other ‘til our last breath We read one another’s thoughts and understand code words like oi Which means we ‘get’ each other more than any girl or boy I hope we both have enough shoes to last us a lifetime So we have all the time we need to quote movies and rhyme I’ll only ask you to hold my sweet potato pie; you’ll never have to wear it We are always each other’s partner and we’ll never have to split I would cross The Wall anytime if it could help somehow Because I would do anything for you that possibility could allow If you were eating junk and watching ******* I wouldn’t come out and pound you I would sit down and join you, and just claim I had the flu
0
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 10:29 PM UTC
The Legend of Nan & Kait, The Movie Quoters
We always know where our towels are so we can help each other out ‘Cause we protect each other without ever a doubt Even when one swears the other has puddin’ in their head We still trust each other, both with guiding and being led Whenever you have a Hat-and-or-Wig Party, I’ll be there Because while three’s company, us two is a constant pair I’ll be the first to reward you with five minutes of uninterrupted eye contact Because always supporting each other is our unwritten contract I’ll sit and watch a movie with you, even if it’s Sweded Because just hanging out with you is all that is needed Even if all we did in a day was roll in ze hay I know that we would still have fun anyway Whether anyone says we were brought together by fate, destiny… or a horse All that matters is that we are forever family on the same course Even if there’s no meteoroid, severe loss of blood or death, We’re there to help each other ‘til our last breath We read one another’s thoughts and understand code words like oi Which means we ‘get’ each other more than any girl or boy I hope we both have enough shoes to last us a lifetime So we have all the time we need to quote movies and rhyme I’ll only ask you to hold my sweet potato pie; you’ll never have to wear it We are always each other’s partner and we’ll never have to split I would cross The Wall anytime if it could help somehow Because I would do anything for you that possibility could allow If you were eating junk and watching ******* I wouldn’t come out and pound you I would sit down and join you, and just claim I had the flu
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26
Sometimes I find myself  wishing my cell phone wasn't my alarm clock, and that I didn't have a class in the morning. That the screen go black for a few, uninterrupted, hours and have the peace of mind that being away from you would give me.
0
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 11:59 PM UTC
Cell Phone
The gentle tone of her teaching, In wonderous melodies, orchestral knowledge from a sweet teacher, Education set by the awareness of harmonizing, delicate instruments, Wisdom and foresight, cast by no other judgement but of a conductor, Whomst hand leads to the ups and downs of the intensity, recognised Ensembling in the beauty of a sinfonietta, sounds flows uninterrupted Let the singing pendulum to your mistress's pleasure fall to the bottom, attached to the chipped illusionists mask of anticipation! To this dance the mascarade does not crack in the shadow of sound, A wise scholar would not sacrifice one topic relevant to learn to the passing time, to her students unfortune that is, cast in pure grief, A wise conductor does the same with musical notes, the story flows, With the moon high in the sky, time stands in her way, questioning her to dance with the devil amongst a distorted, whicked dark, But resillient to the end, tough and with no distraction taking her focus the director of this event finishes the creation of art, an orchestra A craftwoman of tempo and elegance always stands out after all, bringing the musical score to life. ~ Umi
0
Apr 4, 2018
Apr 4, 2018 at 6:28 PM UTC
Maestra
What might it be, that lets some just not give up when there is absolutely no reason to continue fighting any longer ? As I question this to myself, in a room filled with candle light, I realise that it might be an ember of hope, of determination, courage and the imagination to win what lets them carry through. In this weaving melody of thoughts, breath flowing uninterrupted I want to lose myself in this wandering fragrance just for this, endless seeming, moment of unimaginable emotions. As then I remember the countless times I had lift myself up, Was it that I had abandoned hope until now or was it that my means had become pointless so I decided to give up and let this internal, inferno which let myself rise from the fires of the battlefield go out and turn into an dying ember, flickering in it's last moments. Yet I have come to understand what it really meant: The emptiness you’ve carried and lost is but nothing! Desiring the grand beauty of the heavens far above From here we may never look up nor ever return! This world shall not take even half of our spirits! And so I rise from the fire once more, after having burned, been consumed and fed by it for such a long lasting while. Because I wish to protect you, all I desire is to protect you. Thus I return into the battlefield from which I have fallen. To shine once again, illuminating your days so you may smile. ~ Umi
0
Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 2:30 PM UTC
The Fightingspirit
♦   ♦   ♦ She was an earnest devotée. Her ideals, birthed in Chardonnay were globally diverse (read: white). A liberal bark preceded bite. Her crystal clearer than her vision; she provoked bemused derision as she breathed intolerance toward all who would not dance her dance. She swooned for distant pagan tribes, attuned to their exotic vibes – rapt in multi-culti piety strangely deaf to her own society, judged by her as abomination; unredeemed. The background station always stuck on N.P.R. (the soundtrack of her culture war, Pacifica News and Democracy Nows, and other progressive holy cows) Her motherland a shameful mystery: guilty first, and void of history – its origins defiled, corrupted… while she enjoyed uninterrupted freedom to pursue her whims: misguided one-world global hymns. The sisterhood of hu(man) kind was foremost in her earnest mind – even should that same sisterhood be sealed by her well-meaning blood. Out on a date with global death she hoped to unify the earth in solidarity with causes led by killers, warlord bosses, thugs she never knew existed who, if she’d met she’d have resisted. Her theory landed far from her praxis spun, by default, on an evil axis. Hot with zeal she fumed and stormed quite certain she was well-informed, at benefits, non-profit functions rallies, boycotts, left-wing luncheons; warm with righteous spite for Israel, aiding and abetting Ishmael with fellow-travelers, like-minded similarly hateful, blinded, rattling sabers, scimitars, axes… (lunacy never wanes, but waxes hotter with the passing years as activists confront their fears). She finally shilled for the Intifada (stopping short of reciting Shahada), reaching out to the terrorist with righteous raised progressive fist… offering thus her neck to blade: collateral to be repaid by murderers who couldn’t care less about her open-mindedness.
0
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 9:57 PM UTC
Suicide by Diversity
♦   ♦   ♦ She was an earnest devotée. Her ideals, birthed in Chardonnay were globally diverse (read: white). A liberal bark preceded bite. Her crystal clearer than her vision; she provoked bemused derision as she breathed intolerance toward all who would not dance her dance. She swooned for distant pagan tribes, attuned to their exotic vibes – rapt in multi-culti piety strangely deaf to her own society, judged by her as abomination; unredeemed. The background station always stuck on N.P.R. (the soundtrack of her culture war, Pacifica News and Democracy Nows, and other progressive holy cows) Her motherland a shameful mystery: guilty first, and void of history – its origins defiled, corrupted… while she enjoyed uninterrupted freedom to pursue her whims: misguided one-world global hymns. The sisterhood of hu(man) kind was foremost in her earnest mind – even should that same sisterhood be sealed by her well-meaning blood. Out on a date with global death she hoped to unify the earth in solidarity with causes led by killers, warlord bosses, thugs she never knew existed who, if she’d met she’d have resisted. Her theory landed far from her praxis spun, by default, on an evil axis. Hot with zeal she fumed and stormed quite certain she was well-informed, at benefits, non-profit functions rallies, boycotts, left-wing luncheons; warm with righteous spite for Israel, aiding and abetting Ishmael with fellow-travelers, like-minded similarly hateful, blinded, rattling sabers, scimitars, axes… (lunacy never wanes, but waxes hotter with the passing years as activists confront their fears). She finally shilled for the Intifada (stopping short of reciting Shahada), reaching out to the terrorist with righteous raised progressive fist… offering thus her neck to blade: collateral to be repaid by murderers who couldn’t care less about her open-mindedness.
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57
When did you start reminding me of the night sky? The stars twinkling peacefully uninterrupted. I look up and I smile.
0
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 12:22 PM UTC
December 4th 2014
Its hard to not to forget that they tortured our memory motivated by pain no motivated by love love for the living we are trying to reach the living those sensitive to nature still not desensitized by the construction of whiteness trying to reach those uninterrupted by the temporary dominance desperation pretending to be evolution hearts beating apathy to death hysterical neglect of our trauma native tint in our eyes take our minds back from the product whose profits are imperialism give them back to dancing revolution starts in the movement of the hips a cou de tat of sway no one knows what you are no matter how confident they seem dance with your eyes closed looking deep inside do not get stuck in its reflection the hysterical reflection dance like every military just surrendered into our hearts the living are with you now can you feel them in your sway
0
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 9:27 PM UTC
hearts beating apathy to death
Antimatter mirroring our existance on the pathway of a reverse world Imagine it, time stands still, halts without a will to  continue its flow if it were to possess one to begin with, and everything is but fragile, Illusionary moon, shine on in this distorted realm in which not even gravity is reliable or even trustworthy at this point, up is down here, An imperishable night caught under a spell of eternity, uninterrupted Everlasting, permanently shining, the fake moons appearance is clear, Unremitting, sweetly told as a if it was a lie, the rumours of this world spread more likely like a disease through the ancient, young earth, A line parallel drawn to ours, a dimension coexisting without sense, It appears to be fragile, like a newborn child, the smallest disturbance would mostlikely ruin it's balance, bring tremor upon it wretchedly, But where that life sparkles as then fades, two dimensions surely would overlap, of course, maybe it will be the world you inhabit, no? In the realm of the dead, a loitering, lingering darkness thins the borders of reality and illusion, causing them to exist as one, now with the same heart and soul, a fantasy heaven which became reality, After all, that place is only temporary,one surely could even call it a; Short living eternity, ~ Umi
0
Mar 26, 2018
Mar 26, 2018 at 7:57 PM UTC
Short living Eternity
He means very little to me- on a regular, uninterrupted day. But when he talks to me, he is maliciously welcoming. He's toxically enduring and determinedly warm. It's possible Stockholm Syndrome, it's definite injustice. Sweet, sweet injustice. Sweet interruptions. My sweet bitterness to his sweet nonchalance. And then; sweet realisation that I may not be alright, but merely distracted.
0
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 4:31 AM UTC
Distracted
I stumbled across a letter from an old friend, its contents were long and wordy but they had their end. It was just her way of saying she appreciated our friendship. A friendship unanchored, blew away with the wind with paper sails that have only thinned. Birthdays used to be a grand affair; a day to celebrate but each year the wishes dwindle down so I reciprocate. Radio meets silence while we're both aware of the days until it becomes a memory of the song that no longer plays. Too busy trying to navigate channels that changed. Then an invitation to a graduation came to me one year a wedge of uninterrupted distance bridged by a, "Dear." I don't know if olive branches can hold my weighted heart but I sent my response to expect me there before I decided to not care. When the day came you said, "I didn't think you would come!" I kept quiet how I cried in my car a block from your home. I hid my face in your arms and squeezed you tight because the wedge between us was five-years wide. "I said I would," is all I replied. And we asked each other questions that friends don't ask. What did you study? Where do you live? What do you do? We joke around but do not laugh as hard as we used to. My past brought to my present like a nostalgic gift. A chance to heal over our ocean-wide rift. And there were no known reasons! I can't turn back the clock! I just drifted like a small boat barely tethered to its dock until a storm came and everyone forgot to tie me down. Or maybe it was on purpose, or maybe I couldn't secure me. I was the fourth in a unit of three, send me out to sea. But there is a positive to all of this turmoil there is a reason the invitation made it to my door. I rowed myself through the five-year waves back to shore and tethered my boat and checked the knots times ten. When friends become strangers we get to meet again.
0
May 20, 2020
May 20, 2020 at 1:15 PM UTC
When Friends Become Strangers
I stumbled across a letter from an old friend, its contents were long and wordy but they had their end. It was just her way of saying she appreciated our friendship. A friendship unanchored, blew away with the wind with paper sails that have only thinned. Birthdays used to be a grand affair; a day to celebrate but each year the wishes dwindle down so I reciprocate. Radio meets silence while we're both aware of the days until it becomes a memory of the song that no longer plays. Too busy trying to navigate channels that changed. Then an invitation to a graduation came to me one year a wedge of uninterrupted distance bridged by a, "Dear." I don't know if olive branches can hold my weighted heart but I sent my response to expect me there before I decided to not care. When the day came you said, "I didn't think you would come!" I kept quiet how I cried in my car a block from your home. I hid my face in your arms and squeezed you tight because the wedge between us was five-years wide. "I said I would," is all I replied. And we asked each other questions that friends don't ask. What did you study? Where do you live? What do you do? We joke around but do not laugh as hard as we used to. My past brought to my present like a nostalgic gift. A chance to heal over our ocean-wide rift. And there were no known reasons! I can't turn back the clock! I just drifted like a small boat barely tethered to its dock until a storm came and everyone forgot to tie me down. Or maybe it was on purpose, or maybe I couldn't secure me. I was the fourth in a unit of three, send me out to sea. But there is a positive to all of this turmoil there is a reason the invitation made it to my door. I rowed myself through the five-year waves back to shore and tethered my boat and checked the knots times ten. When friends become strangers we get to meet again.
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35
I'm weathered and weary from shapes of greed Their colors mislead me I am naive But I know eyes that taste Without seeing Now you know me, don't you? But you are just waiting. I am tired of this misinterpreted concept I am tired of our tangled body's, this act between two that is only about you. I'm tired of not being able to dance freely in fear of needy hands and sharp teeth Pressuring possessiveness Climb into your soul and off of my body See that I am a creature of uninterrupted freedom I will not answer to your hollow eyes Your misconstrued ideas of love constructed by a society that forgot to feel That forgot to see That forgot that you are you and I am me I will not answer to your hollow eyes You are not welcome here.
0
Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 7:45 PM UTC
Consciousness in Modern Love
The sea awoke at midnight from its sleep, And round the pebbly beaches far and wide I heard the first wave of the rising tide Rush onward with uninterrupted sweep; A voice out of the silence of the deep, A sound mysteriously multiplied As of a cataract from the mountain’s side, Or roar of winds upon a wooded steep. So comes to us at times, from the unknown And inaccessible solitudes of being, The rushing of the sea-tides of the soul; And inspirations, that we deem our own, Are some divine foreshadowing and foreseeing Of things beyond our reason or control.
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3.7k
The Sound Of The Sea
lulling comfort of uninterrupted sleep subsides replaced with an involuntary state of sedation the emergence of an all too familiar presence paralyzed by the force of a lingering sensation choking internalized fear timeless inaudible cries for help unknown visitor condemning you to an everlasting silence physical horror encroached the night a lone passenger aboard an eternal voyage bound for relief from this crippling fear of uncontrollable stillness remaining prisoner to this petrified state concrete walls of stirring madness hallucinations of strange alien formations faceless entities strike infinite fear in the core foundation of sleep tonight.
0
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 7:13 PM UTC
sleep paralysis
right now sacrifice is fueling opportunity an opportunity to breathe with an uninterrupted purpose the corruption of our native soul stop nourishing it by constructing whiteness sacrificing ethnicity for the temporal indulgence adrenaline ***** torturing intensity of dissociation hallucinating whiteness the worst drug ever manufactured forced upon our children intricate delicate vulnerable violence tripping stumbling dissociating from an eternity of survival of the most cooperative deterring forgetting intoxicating for a moment momentum of ******
0
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 5:37 PM UTC
hallucinating whiteness again
my favourite song is sail to the moon live by radiohead and when he replied that it was his as well I was overwhelmed we layed together and let the haunting phonics echo through your room uninterrupted I pressed my head to your chest and let your heart beat sync with the sound two days later you told me you loved me and I was astounded when I heard the same words fall from my lips I fell asleep listening to radiohead my head on the pillow and my heart in your hands everyone warns you about heartbreak They say that young love never lasts and while they may be right I ask Myself why I was never warned of the danger of a different kind of fracture You broke my taste in music you **** Teenage relationships don't generally end in divorces but the forces were at play and it ended anyway Nobody worries about who walks away with the songs you've loved since childhood Like Bono was my dude but you loved Beautiful Day so now we're not on good terms Like Real People Do was the jam but you ruined it man Why did I have to talk to you about music, Janis Joplin, was poppin and Bob Dylan was killin but I told you all about it and now I'm not about it the opening bars of sail to the moon rip me in open and while we didnt have children I'm the short amount of time that we were living In each other's embrace music was our offspring and someone should have warned me about this thing where you aren't supposed to overshare and though I have many questions about why it ended, why it's still going on, the biggest are why I told you my favourite song and after the pseudo divorce Who the hell gets custody of radiohead??
0
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 7:19 PM UTC
who gets custody of radiohead?
my favourite song is sail to the moon live by radiohead and when he replied that it was his as well I was overwhelmed we layed together and let the haunting phonics echo through your room uninterrupted I pressed my head to your chest and let your heart beat sync with the sound two days later you told me you loved me and I was astounded when I heard the same words fall from my lips I fell asleep listening to radiohead my head on the pillow and my heart in your hands everyone warns you about heartbreak They say that young love never lasts and while they may be right I ask Myself why I was never warned of the danger of a different kind of fracture You broke my taste in music you **** Teenage relationships don't generally end in divorces but the forces were at play and it ended anyway Nobody worries about who walks away with the songs you've loved since childhood Like Bono was my dude but you loved Beautiful Day so now we're not on good terms Like Real People Do was the jam but you ruined it man Why did I have to talk to you about music, Janis Joplin, was poppin and Bob Dylan was killin but I told you all about it and now I'm not about it the opening bars of sail to the moon rip me in open and while we didnt have children I'm the short amount of time that we were living In each other's embrace music was our offspring and someone should have warned me about this thing where you aren't supposed to overshare and though I have many questions about why it ended, why it's still going on, the biggest are why I told you my favourite song and after the pseudo divorce Who the hell gets custody of radiohead??
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24
if the sinking-of-boat …ice-cream by name be deducted from the swept-off-in-flood … by name roll no 31 then would the wings of the comics cease to exist what says the uninterrupted sound of water-falling from the stomach of the moon what writes the pus and blood what writes the fuming-hot rice the creepers and the herbs grow continuously in the insomniac bath-tub the sounds of the horse-hoof floated by the river used to change the velocity of its clothes both in the morning and evening the birds from the cornice go to school by dip-swimming it may come one day when the fishes become very angry and in the tale of the sweet-meat the potter will destroy the jointly-built bee-hive then all hurricane would be habituated to dinner sans saliva then there would be no such morning-walk in the body of the trees from which such a bore could be found out through which an elderly saral may fly into the blue translation of a squirrel the magnetic field of the orange-pulp and the productivity of the open window reside in the same locality if their frequency be touched   then the the antenna of the mermaids speared with sleeping-oil may be injured by burnings their eyes the crow-birds knocks at in the soap-foams produced by the afternoon the pond with a jumping deer wants to make bite   it is not known by this way when a white hyphen sticks to the palate of the shirt now put off all the whispers and let it be talked on the will-paper of the bees why the pages from the honourable ash-trays be excluded those bunch of waters that come out from the churning of the anises and the jumps born of their ***** also make friends with the group-photos now let this other night sends its best wishes to the future candles through a cell-phone
0
Sep 14, 2010
Sep 14, 2010 at 5:25 PM UTC
soap-song
if the sinking-of-boat …ice-cream by name be deducted from the swept-off-in-flood … by name roll no 31 then would the wings of the comics cease to exist what says the uninterrupted sound of water-falling from the stomach of the moon what writes the pus and blood what writes the fuming-hot rice the creepers and the herbs grow continuously in the insomniac bath-tub the sounds of the horse-hoof floated by the river used to change the velocity of its clothes both in the morning and evening the birds from the cornice go to school by dip-swimming it may come one day when the fishes become very angry and in the tale of the sweet-meat the potter will destroy the jointly-built bee-hive then all hurricane would be habituated to dinner sans saliva then there would be no such morning-walk in the body of the trees from which such a bore could be found out through which an elderly saral may fly into the blue translation of a squirrel the magnetic field of the orange-pulp and the productivity of the open window reside in the same locality if their frequency be touched   then the the antenna of the mermaids speared with sleeping-oil may be injured by burnings their eyes the crow-birds knocks at in the soap-foams produced by the afternoon the pond with a jumping deer wants to make bite   it is not known by this way when a white hyphen sticks to the palate of the shirt now put off all the whispers and let it be talked on the will-paper of the bees why the pages from the honourable ash-trays be excluded those bunch of waters that come out from the churning of the anises and the jumps born of their ***** also make friends with the group-photos now let this other night sends its best wishes to the future candles through a cell-phone
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52
Floating through the depths of a soulless wonderland. Memories fast fading from my mind. I try to catch them in my hands but they rush through my fingers like sand. Searching behind clouds and under dreams for something I can never find. I weave new memories with strands of admitted love. With dirtied hands I feel my way out of the darkness, with unexpected twists and bends. Tipping back my head to look at the light dripping in from above. I continue to maneuver out of the uninterrupted nightmares until forever ends.
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Oct 15, 2012
Oct 15, 2012 at 10:56 PM UTC
Weaving Memories
*each moment flows uninterrupted the more I unclench my grip and let go, let it flow*
0
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 10:43 AM UTC
impermanence
I shaved away the edges until there was nothing left, but a dream of what could have been, and so with frustration i accepted the jagged. A common law of common flaws, as my face morphs into mask. I still wonder, when it all will collide, building up inside ... So much. Too much. Electrified in the the allure of my ruthless retorts, as i struggle in futile resistance to the inevitable. The feeling is incredible, when you let all just go. As it gently flows from the empathy into ecstasy, learning to love thy enemy, even as they are metaphorically stabbing me in the back. Euphorically to react to the sensations in my lap when shes next to me. Hexing me in a shellacking smack to my mannerisms Her summer dress to address my cynicism, as it flows back from whence it came. Detained in her image. Restrained, in questioned worth. Worth a thousand words. Words never heard but seen in synesthesia. Synesthesia saving my amnesia from forgotten verbs that be-heave us, in forgetful stumbling of the loving mumblings before the kiss. The kiss dismissing the winded blue lips from the fumbled wits of love. Love drown the fires ablaze as it spirals away. Away from the journey. Journey of the uninterrupted. Uninterrupted in the hunting of my comforts. Comfort in the squiggled lines. Lines that pack a little comfort. Comfort in the blinds, as i sacrifice my obedience for a little bit of expedience on the smile that awaits, this toothless face. Bludgeoned stupid, as i pace at half mass, blinded in the tall grass of empty lands amassed in colors unseen with tunneled eyes that refuse to defy gravity. Gravity in your roads chosen. Chosen in the glow of abodes ablaze. Amazed in starlit eyes. Eyes to dream. Dream of better ways. Ways to clean the bad away. Away with my wayward words. Words observed in zero. Zeros the point in which i met her, blinded in the blur, as im pulled to her.
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Sep 2, 2012
Sep 2, 2012 at 6:08 PM UTC
(Its all goes out the window)
I shaved away the edges until there was nothing left, but a dream of what could have been, and so with frustration i accepted the jagged. A common law of common flaws, as my face morphs into mask. I still wonder, when it all will collide, building up inside ... So much. Too much. Electrified in the the allure of my ruthless retorts, as i struggle in futile resistance to the inevitable. The feeling is incredible, when you let all just go. As it gently flows from the empathy into ecstasy, learning to love thy enemy, even as they are metaphorically stabbing me in the back. Euphorically to react to the sensations in my lap when shes next to me. Hexing me in a shellacking smack to my mannerisms Her summer dress to address my cynicism, as it flows back from whence it came. Detained in her image. Restrained, in questioned worth. Worth a thousand words. Words never heard but seen in synesthesia. Synesthesia saving my amnesia from forgotten verbs that be-heave us, in forgetful stumbling of the loving mumblings before the kiss. The kiss dismissing the winded blue lips from the fumbled wits of love. Love drown the fires ablaze as it spirals away. Away from the journey. Journey of the uninterrupted. Uninterrupted in the hunting of my comforts. Comfort in the squiggled lines. Lines that pack a little comfort. Comfort in the blinds, as i sacrifice my obedience for a little bit of expedience on the smile that awaits, this toothless face. Bludgeoned stupid, as i pace at half mass, blinded in the tall grass of empty lands amassed in colors unseen with tunneled eyes that refuse to defy gravity. Gravity in your roads chosen. Chosen in the glow of abodes ablaze. Amazed in starlit eyes. Eyes to dream. Dream of better ways. Ways to clean the bad away. Away with my wayward words. Words observed in zero. Zeros the point in which i met her, blinded in the blur, as im pulled to her.
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34
The man was smart. The animals, watching, knew it. The shattering glass of the universe felt the opposition, and the understanding was the result of a fiendish ambition. There was a recording. It time, there was a healing record; it reached for the few left unwell. They were floundering until it was discovered to be the shape of things drawn with ink. The deception of empty hands, which refused to let them drink the clean water also offered to slay the daughter. This forced them all to worry about forensic relics and lumps of shattered trust. Love was hidden away for the sake of uninterrupted safety.
0
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 8:12 PM UTC
Reassembling The Pieces
the bamboo shoot sprouts and prospers. the sun shines uninterrupted. soothing rain softens silken soil. fruitful days pass into crisp nights pass into weeks into months. soon, the first cold rains of winter drip on leaves which have less strength. winds weave, which are laced with scents and threads of a frosted siberia. the bamboo looks left looks right at other bamboo shoots which have grown too and always remained close by.   the bamboo looks up at the now fogging sky looks down and realizes it's newfound fear of heights.
0
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 9:49 PM UTC
green. blind. skyscraper.
today i walked west but only for a couple of minutes before i reached the old church that i've lived next door to practically my entire life it's from the '60s, and as soon as you walk in a sign is still hung in the entry that reads "Colored Church" with a cross underneath i always loved it here it's small cozy with a ringing sense of familiarity much reminiscent of the people who gather here every Sunday really, it's been my quiet place for a while somedays i come just to bask in the uninterrupted silence that it offers but most, i sit at the old, nearly crumbling piano that's slightly out of tune at the very front and i'll just play for hours simply to get lost in the echos of the pitch that's just barely off, but that's not unlistenable it's become somewhat of a sanctuary to me and i'm probably crazy to seek solace in a place whose very nature, more times than not, tends to frighten me but maybe everything that i fear is what ultimately will bring me the most joy at least that's what i will let myself believe
0
Jul 27, 2022
Jul 27, 2022 at 11:39 PM UTC
today i walked west
1. Bathtime You hadn't seen me naked. I covered myself in bubbles, And called you into the bathroom. 2. Pretending to lunch When you told me you couldn't stop staring at my ******* I invited you to indulge in thirty seconds of uninterrupted, intense ogling. You were happy to oblige. 3. Birthday Present I innocently suckled on my ***** and coke, And you asked if I was "doing that deliberately with the straw". I wasn't, I promise. 4. Unclothed I did as you asked, I took off my dress And stood there, bathed in candlelight, Shivering, translated and transformed. 5.  My Reward We kissed. We kissed. We kissed.
0
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 5:56 PM UTC
Powerful **** Moments
there’s still some music hidden in the burst of noon I can feel it in my lips the Man you are you ****** time when you forget to blink make me your Woman embodied certainty doorstep within pillow for dreams uninterrupted I’ll be your road back into childhood laughter fill me with poetry, commonplace, raw matter-of-fact I’ll wear the day for you fix little surprise in the cup of tea let you play true love with my heels, dormant twist the mirror inwards: I’m yours. you stranger, behold thy Woman
0
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 4:03 PM UTC
Masculine&Feminine