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"unobtrusively" poems
***** and secure, yet weathered and worn Faithfully it stood surviving the storms Cracking and peeling … its colors are muted Stubbornly standing yet obviously wounded Absorbing abuse for those in her shelter Unobtrusively stands against all ghostly specter”
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Apr 28, 2012
Apr 28, 2012 at 12:19 AM UTC
A Faithful Old Barn
He sat behind me At dinner Unobtrusively So quietly I didn't Couldn't Notice He was there Until The music started A melody I hadn't heard In months, Days, Years My favorite So I turned away from The conversation And listened Intently To the Broadway magic That brought me Back To times gone by I missed This The music of my childhood It is a type of magic Like any song I suppose, but Special At least to me That violinist Behind me at dinner Continued to play my Memories For me And returned me to Happiness
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Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 3:46 PM UTC
The Broadway Violinist
Pure tranquility amongst immense vulnerability Embrace the placid pace as interlacing moments of divinity create a symmetrical vision of femininity and masculinity Cultivating humility in unobtrusively exercising providential gifts Ancient relations uncovered through self-refinement; revel in a realm of silence peculiarly deepening this divine assignment.
0
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 8:46 PM UTC
Embodiment
*one slipped out unobtrusively* now instead of walking safely on a globe you're slipping on that one marble... so ...out of place S T, 7 July 2013
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Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 9:32 PM UTC
slipped
And- Comes between youme. ConnectorAndBridge, Unobtrusively. A wall, a barrier to me. And- Sneaking in heartsoul. And- Ready to rockroll. And- There to remind us, What separates binds us.
0
Dec 13, 2009
Dec 13, 2009 at 7:13 AM UTC
Bridge over the river Us
a yellowish shroud is placed hurriedly upon starched white sheets revealing vicious contrasts where the cullan trees lie where the cullan trees lie its Hessian appearance an omen, a foretold event like breathing deeply in a silence amidst the history of a great disorder where the cullan trees lie where the cullan trees lie violent ink stains on folding parchment embalm themselves upon the thickness of a sorrow where the cullan trees lie where the cullan trees lie placed deep within shallow subterranean depths of an enigmatic being that is both engineering and entrenching where the cullan trees lie where the cullan trees lie its perplexing sensations causing a wonderful ingrained passion to erupt with imponderable abstracts where truth does not exceed exception where the cullan trees lie where the cullan trees lie the shroud provides a false tranquillity where there is no longer breath imposes itself unobtrusively with wonderful staccato caresses where the cullan trees lie where the cullan trees lie it proclaims an innocence of salvation yet gives gauge to spectacular routes and an enormity of misconceptions amid prestigious beatifications where the cullan trees lie where the cullan trees lie oh sweet smelling blue abyss oh deluded reality dressed in a winding sheet of meaningless words where the cullan trees lie where the cullan trees lie wrapped in phrases of falsehood amidst this purgatorial fog a twilight world of mysterious ailments maintains a world of external restraints where the cullan trees lie where the cullan trees lie creates and emptiness, a vacancy provides an intoxication of vision a strangeness of sensation a world transparent where the cullan trees lie where the cullan trees lie read the sentences of silence breathe the perfume of never fading flowers and see for the first time the unfinished likeness of others where the cullan trees lie where the cullan trees lie
0
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 6:11 AM UTC
where the cullan trees lie
a yellowish shroud is placed hurriedly upon starched white sheets revealing vicious contrasts where the cullan trees lie where the cullan trees lie its Hessian appearance an omen, a foretold event like breathing deeply in a silence amidst the history of a great disorder where the cullan trees lie where the cullan trees lie violent ink stains on folding parchment embalm themselves upon the thickness of a sorrow where the cullan trees lie where the cullan trees lie placed deep within shallow subterranean depths of an enigmatic being that is both engineering and entrenching where the cullan trees lie where the cullan trees lie its perplexing sensations causing a wonderful ingrained passion to erupt with imponderable abstracts where truth does not exceed exception where the cullan trees lie where the cullan trees lie the shroud provides a false tranquillity where there is no longer breath imposes itself unobtrusively with wonderful staccato caresses where the cullan trees lie where the cullan trees lie it proclaims an innocence of salvation yet gives gauge to spectacular routes and an enormity of misconceptions amid prestigious beatifications where the cullan trees lie where the cullan trees lie oh sweet smelling blue abyss oh deluded reality dressed in a winding sheet of meaningless words where the cullan trees lie where the cullan trees lie wrapped in phrases of falsehood amidst this purgatorial fog a twilight world of mysterious ailments maintains a world of external restraints where the cullan trees lie where the cullan trees lie creates and emptiness, a vacancy provides an intoxication of vision a strangeness of sensation a world transparent where the cullan trees lie where the cullan trees lie read the sentences of silence breathe the perfume of never fading flowers and see for the first time the unfinished likeness of others where the cullan trees lie where the cullan trees lie
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66
Seclusion Tonight is a dark night Here within the garden of the deceased- In this place where wounded spirits who have lost their sanity Are banned from the world outside, Here in this desolate place where nobody sees the light of day. I am alone where the walls are barren and The floors have yellowed- ***** stained and tiles are cracked- I stare at the ceiling through a curtain of tears falling from bloodshot eyes- Moribund, I cannot escape past memories of merciless abuse which are colliding with Recollections of profound neglect buried in the depths of a graveyard of despair- As in a scene from a tragic film, I have become the infamous star, I hear the wall clock outside steadily ticking Rhythmically in time with hellions screaming from inside the fortress of my mind- My emaciated body is robed in a sallow gown and I can feel serpents twisted about my calves constricting. This is a dark night- This is a dark night where I have lost my grasp on veracity- This is a dark night where I have been separated from the outside world- This is the garden of the deceased, where Phantasmal gravestones surround my dissolving soul- My mind is in a wretched state and my thoughts are bellowing lunacy- My cries for help have been silenced. My worm infested brain is decaying- I can only hear above the screaming stillness The ticking of the wall clock outside, and Threatening voices emanating from inside of my mind- Putrid scents of rotting corpses infiltrate this cell and I vociferate madness as the dirges that echo about my mind attempt to deafen me- Neither moonlight nor sunlight can penetrate this windowless chamber- Within this garden of the deceased where my spirit has just perished- This is a dark night and I have been banned from the world outside- In a desperate search for relief my outstretched arms attempt To reach towards heaven as I can feel My dissolving spirit sinking through the cracks in the decrepit linoleum tiles below- I believe I can hear angels singing ‘Abide with me’ mourning the death of my soul- The wall clock outside ticks on and on as I have lost my battle with fate- I have become a lone cadaver buried here in the garden of the deceased- This is a dark night where time has unobtrusively slipped away. Claudia Krizay
0
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 5:08 PM UTC
Seclusion
Seclusion Tonight is a dark night Here within the garden of the deceased- In this place where wounded spirits who have lost their sanity Are banned from the world outside, Here in this desolate place where nobody sees the light of day. I am alone where the walls are barren and The floors have yellowed- ***** stained and tiles are cracked- I stare at the ceiling through a curtain of tears falling from bloodshot eyes- Moribund, I cannot escape past memories of merciless abuse which are colliding with Recollections of profound neglect buried in the depths of a graveyard of despair- As in a scene from a tragic film, I have become the infamous star, I hear the wall clock outside steadily ticking Rhythmically in time with hellions screaming from inside the fortress of my mind- My emaciated body is robed in a sallow gown and I can feel serpents twisted about my calves constricting. This is a dark night- This is a dark night where I have lost my grasp on veracity- This is a dark night where I have been separated from the outside world- This is the garden of the deceased, where Phantasmal gravestones surround my dissolving soul- My mind is in a wretched state and my thoughts are bellowing lunacy- My cries for help have been silenced. My worm infested brain is decaying- I can only hear above the screaming stillness The ticking of the wall clock outside, and Threatening voices emanating from inside of my mind- Putrid scents of rotting corpses infiltrate this cell and I vociferate madness as the dirges that echo about my mind attempt to deafen me- Neither moonlight nor sunlight can penetrate this windowless chamber- Within this garden of the deceased where my spirit has just perished- This is a dark night and I have been banned from the world outside- In a desperate search for relief my outstretched arms attempt To reach towards heaven as I can feel My dissolving spirit sinking through the cracks in the decrepit linoleum tiles below- I believe I can hear angels singing ‘Abide with me’ mourning the death of my soul- The wall clock outside ticks on and on as I have lost my battle with fate- I have become a lone cadaver buried here in the garden of the deceased- This is a dark night where time has unobtrusively slipped away. Claudia Krizay
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41
You snake around me. I never see you coming. Appearing in the tall grasses of people, and disappearing like vapour, You are not a rattlesnake, aren't you? Your hushed strikes do not startle me anymore. I am too numb by the hustle and bustle of the crowd. I am too tired of this struggle to fade away. Are you going to sink your fangs into me? I should never have turn my back on a viper. Your lethal venom surely brought on this illness that I am unable to heal. This mental disease entered my bloodstream, traveling so unobtrusively that I have not notice it take complete control over me. You wreck me up inside immobilising me in every conversation every question that demands an answer I cannot give. Is there an antidote to end this slow sweet torture? Are you going to hide behind a corner? Your forked tongue can sense my fear as i draw nearer. I do not want to find myself falling into your embrace. You will entwine me further into yourself, Tangle me in your web of fear, anxiety and self destruction. And even as you crush and constrict harder, As I suffocate slowly and my lips turn blue, I cannot find my voice. I cannot ask for help. Anxiety is like a python after all. Its steals your breath and quietens your heart before swallowing you whole. Slowly. Painfully. Soundlessly.
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Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 9:46 AM UTC
Anxiety Is A Python
Beating wings of the caged butterfly With powder so perfect and clean Tears begin to stain my wings Don't smother my veins I need some time to evolve Shed my layers Gathering the strength I will need   I'm becoming speckled with shades of green If only you could see He unobtrusively empties my grace I try not to encur his madness I do have eyes I can see I'm heading north I will not be returning in the fall My fragile body will soar soon Swaying in the powder blue sky Drinking sweet nectar In circles I begin to glide Dreaming of escaping this space The freedom was always there I know it's not right I return My essence is splintered  can't you see
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Jul 1, 2013
Jul 1, 2013 at 1:05 AM UTC
Beating Wings Of The Caged Butterfly
Nerves Rushing and tingling through my body Standing on the edge ready to jump Deep breath I’m a balloon expanding with air I’m light as a feather Tethered to the ground My feet and legs are grounded My head is floating Chin up and shoulders back Briefly closing my eyes Feel the tension of expectation Relax, as though slipping into a warm bath The air gains pressure, Waiting to burst free Let it go Flowing as effortlessly as a breeze With the energy to become a storm I expose my soul Releasing unbridled emotions Love struck, Heartbroken, Forgotten I feel and express it all On my voice flows pure emotion The end is near The last remnants of air escape from my lungs They linger in the room, Unobtrusively fading to silence The strings of this marionette are cut I return to reality The walls once more conceal my soul A bittersweet longing to go back As a single tear rolls down my face, I smile--a soft, secret smile
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Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 12:50 PM UTC
Singing
A day that i missed you, Its like a hundred years; And I feel blue, Oh what a lovely day! If I could be with you; Everyday, my life will be more colorful, If I am with you... The uncanny feeling you brought to my heart, Made me fluster in all of my acts; You kindle my freezing land, By your smile that burns me into ashes... The door to my heart opened unexpectedly, Then I saw you standing there, As you walk unobtrusively; Cant help to gawk and gaze, To your beauty universally ultra... My ulterior feelings for you; Makes me to twitter in shivering, Too abysmal to kiss even just once, Ardently, Let me walk with you; In a beautiful night; Of stars and moonlight... -Joseng Pulpol 1999-
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Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 9:52 PM UTC
Mixed Emotion
When I go to the woods I do not write “I was here” On the bark of some tree; I do not leave plastic bags, Or cups and beer bottles To commemorate my stay; It is enough that I see Unobtrusively, for a while, The forest aflame in autumn, As white water rushes down The green ancient mountains Under a benign blue sky; I do not need too much more: The deer will graze again, Here where I stand watching; The daisies will grow quietly, And rain will fall on this meadow When I leave without a footprint; So it should be with my life. Too much value is given To the quest for permanence; I shall be like the summer wind That passes through the woods Invisible but scented: It shall not matter when I’m gone. But I shall be glad to have seen All this beauty, and these woods, Though briefly, ah so briefly. Diptesh Ghosh
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Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 9:28 AM UTC
Permanence
For a while she'd had her eyes on you; Behind the shadow of her dark cloak, In a corner she waited unobtrusively; She'd followed the signs, And the pieces were all coming together, As if inevitably. Your guardians were now deserters; Mighty, the circle of exchanged promises that had once stood, Bold and fearless, impenetrable as a fortress, Now lay crumbled, rubble beyond ruin, Leaving that path a ghost of the past, Arches without doors, Cold paved verandahs overrun by mist and piles of stone, Where there'd been bright lit walls that resonated voices and held in warmth; There, amidst the thick white wisps, the cloaked lady lurked, Watching your empty footsteps walk. Where went the angel who smiled upon you in the heart of a storm? Who spoke a promise into your eyes, And put her arm around your hurting soul? If I trip in the treacherous night, you asked, And as before, deep in a gorge I find myself fall, Listen for my song, and trust, said she, Reach, and my hand will be there, locked upon yours. So arrived a night, darker than any before, A narrow tunnel sprung up around you and the floor gave way; Deep into this shaft as you fell, There was no song, and no one came, And you did not see, Way above by the corner of the well, Behind her dark cloak's hood, The shadow lady watched in silence, As you buckled alone under the black night's spell. Silent tears seep into your palms, You subdue the sniffles, lest a neighbor heard; Defeated, then, you lie huddled on your bed, Quietly you withered like a winter plant; Somewhere, once, there was a voice from within - "There are those who care, there are those who love!" You muster a little smile, There are those you let down, To them you pray sorry, There are children who expect you to be strong, You wish them strength, And then everyone else - who would not understand, Where you lie is an island, You wish it were different, It might have been; The promise of what could be, Like a treasure you carry. She looks upon you, by the side of your bed, And you look back, She leans over and wraps you in her cloak, No wait! Your eyes dart behind - empty, weary room, And your phone as still as if it were dead; You lay in the dark, And she carries you away.
0
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 2:25 PM UTC
The Shadow Lady
For a while she'd had her eyes on you; Behind the shadow of her dark cloak, In a corner she waited unobtrusively; She'd followed the signs, And the pieces were all coming together, As if inevitably. Your guardians were now deserters; Mighty, the circle of exchanged promises that had once stood, Bold and fearless, impenetrable as a fortress, Now lay crumbled, rubble beyond ruin, Leaving that path a ghost of the past, Arches without doors, Cold paved verandahs overrun by mist and piles of stone, Where there'd been bright lit walls that resonated voices and held in warmth; There, amidst the thick white wisps, the cloaked lady lurked, Watching your empty footsteps walk. Where went the angel who smiled upon you in the heart of a storm? Who spoke a promise into your eyes, And put her arm around your hurting soul? If I trip in the treacherous night, you asked, And as before, deep in a gorge I find myself fall, Listen for my song, and trust, said she, Reach, and my hand will be there, locked upon yours. So arrived a night, darker than any before, A narrow tunnel sprung up around you and the floor gave way; Deep into this shaft as you fell, There was no song, and no one came, And you did not see, Way above by the corner of the well, Behind her dark cloak's hood, The shadow lady watched in silence, As you buckled alone under the black night's spell. Silent tears seep into your palms, You subdue the sniffles, lest a neighbor heard; Defeated, then, you lie huddled on your bed, Quietly you withered like a winter plant; Somewhere, once, there was a voice from within - "There are those who care, there are those who love!" You muster a little smile, There are those you let down, To them you pray sorry, There are children who expect you to be strong, You wish them strength, And then everyone else - who would not understand, Where you lie is an island, You wish it were different, It might have been; The promise of what could be, Like a treasure you carry. She looks upon you, by the side of your bed, And you look back, She leans over and wraps you in her cloak, No wait! Your eyes dart behind - empty, weary room, And your phone as still as if it were dead; You lay in the dark, And she carries you away.
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57
I don't want to blot you,not with my inconsquentiality, nor do I want to etch you with my feelings, you bore my feelings and strength unobtrusively, perhaps with a tad resistance of gravity. people take advantage of your limpidity and write trivia on you as I do, you enlightened me to the point of absurdity and nothingness. I thank for that,knowing that even gratitude does make you indifferent. you are only few of those who doesn't have any intentions in the chores they perform. I write on you,wipe you,tear you,distort you, but you bear all with love and no resistance, for that you have become irresistible. I exude my happiness,exasperation yet you are stoical,I imbibe that nonchalance. you are slim yet you are eternally exporable. you dwell in myriad artists yet you are indifferent to anyone. I perceive how indiscriminate you are and how you are not prejudice. you are the cluster of atoms that is closer to my heart, perhaps the confluence of descendant atoms. who says atom has no feelings I see here, the way you embrace me when my tears shed on you, and when you endure it no more, you just wrinkle yourself by absorbing me, disintegrating yourself................... ALIGHT YOUR WAY TO THE ETERNITY, FOR THIS IS NOT YOUR ABODE....NOR MINE....
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Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 9:49 AM UTC
paper:poises the palabra
I've grown aware that my brain is tuned incorrectly. The antenna that detects frequencies (art, truth, and death turn things to marble) of screams and whispers and noise sticks out obscenely. Pornographically. Sometimes I give in to it and thread myself along its wires, intertwining with the sharp ambiance. My heart beats faster An unholy fusion And I contract, deliciously, Undulating with the compressions in the air. They light up the silent ******** scream coursing through my veins. Would he have liked it here? Or would he have sat Unobtrusively, as I do now and longed to feel the surf lap against his toes?
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Dec 20, 2019
Dec 20, 2019 at 4:22 PM UTC
Father
Let me love you! To care for you value you and everything you do To be happy in your presence finding joy in your smiles Please let me wash away the hurts and ease your pains to help you support you always because that's what love is friendship kinship someone to turn to when the world seems so lonely Let me love you because I want to because it requires nothing from you I don't want anything from you that's not why I love I do it because I am love living breathing love and all I want to is love you all of you all the flaws terrors, horrors, nightmares you have been the joys and wonders that comprise your being Let me love you as I was meant to quietly shyly unobtrusively a warmth that simply is and don't worry I want nothing from you except that you be you in all that you are because who you are is someone worth loving.
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May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 11:20 PM UTC
Let me
'I'll save the world' Millions have said this before 'Serve mankind selflessly Give, give, give more'. I am just an ordinary man With a burden of my own I leave to others to usher in a brave new era Quietly and unobtrusively I live alone.
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Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 9:05 PM UTC
THIS I CAN'T DO
Bang in the middle Of a summer afternoon... Witnessing the marriage of dust and heat... Sweat-drenched i daydream... And am overcome with oneness .. Yet not alone... A tap on my shoulder... A gentle tugging of my hair... A touch on the back of my hand... Fingers running unobtrusively On the veins of my wrist... Lips bestowing Angel kisses Behind my ear.. Cajoling...nudging... "Hey hey...Is it over? The poems... The adulation.. The unadulterated devotion That art has for it's muse... Is it fading?" "Silly Muse... Silly silly beautiful Muse You are my poem... the shape of my words I feel you in each melting-in-heat Breath... Never fading...never over..."
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May 18, 2017
May 18, 2017 at 5:49 AM UTC
Silly Muse
I remember waking up early, hours before dawn. Rush to the kitchen, make sandwiches and yawn. Pilfer the keys to my mother's car, and make my way to you. Your dormitory from my house was a journey far. The way your sleepy face would light up as you came down the stairs, our eyes would meet, smile and greet. In the darkness at the beach, I parked unobtrusively and out of reach. Your head rested on my shoulder, we sat in silence, communicating without words. The way my hands tangled in yours, the smell of the morning air, fishermen by the coast scavenging with their flash lights. Then the sun would peek it's weary head, above the horizon - the night was officially dead. As my sight adjusted, I would glance at eternity contained in your eyes. For a second, that one second we'd never get back, the atmosphere was just enough, The sun began to flicker, and it was just enough bright. ©  2017 José
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May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 8:52 AM UTC
Just enough bright.