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"upheaved" poems
Tanagra! think not I forget Thy beautifully-storey'd streets; Be sure my memory bathes yet In clear Thermodon, and yet greets The blythe and liberal shepherd boy, Whose sunny ***** swells with joy When we accept his matted rushes Upheaved with sylvan fruit; away he bounds, and blushes. I promise to bring back with me What thou with transport wilt receive, The only proper gift for thee, Of which no mortal shall bereave In later times thy mouldering walls, Until the last old turret falls; A crown, a crown from Athens won! A crown no god can wear, beside Latona's son. There may be cities who refuse To their own child the honours due, And look ungently on the Muse; But ever shall those cities rue The dry, unyielding, niggard breast, Offering no nourishment, no rest, To that young head which soon shall rise Disdainfully, in might and glory, to the skies. Sweetly where cavern'd Dirce flows Do white-arm'd maidens chaunt my lay, Flapping the while with laurel-rose The honey-gathering tribes away; And sweetly, sweetly, Attick tongues Lisp your Corinna's early songs; To her with feet more graceful come The verses that have dwelt in kindred ******* at home. O let thy children lean aslant Against the tender mother's knee, And gaze into her face, and want To know what magic there can be In words that urge some eyes to dance, While others as in holy trance Look up to heaven; be such my praise! Why linger? I must haste, or lose the Delphick bays.
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Corinna, from Athens, to Tanagra
I stand upon my native hills again, Broad, round, and green, that in the summer sky With garniture of waving grass and grain, Orchards, and beechen forests, basking lie, While deep the sunless glens are scooped between, Where brawl o'er shallow beds the streams unseen. A lisping voice and glancing eyes are near, And ever restless feet of one, who, now, Gathers the blossoms of her fourth bright year; There plays a gladness o'er her fair young brow, As breaks the varied scene upon her sight, Upheaved and spread in verdure and in light. For I have taught her, with delighted eye, To gaze upon the mountains,--to behold, With deep affection, the pure ample sky, And clouds along its blue abysses rolled,-- To love the song of waters, and to hear The melody of winds with charmed ear. Here, I have 'scaped the city's stifling heat, Its horrid sounds, and its polluted air; And, where the season's milder fervours beat, And gales, that sweep the forest borders, bear The song of bird, and sound of running stream, Am come awhile to wander and to dream. Ay, flame thy fiercest, sun! thou canst not wake, In this pure air, the plague that walks unseen. The maize leaf and the maple bough but take, From thy strong heats, a deeper, glossier green. The mountain wind, that faints not in thy ray, Sweeps the blue steams of pestilence away. The mountain wind! most spiritual thing of all The wide earth knows; when, in the sultry time, He stoops him from his vast cerulean hall, He seems the breath of a celestial clime! As if from heaven's wide-open gates did flow Health and refreshment on the world below.
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Lines On Revisiting The Country
I stand upon my native hills again, Broad, round, and green, that in the summer sky With garniture of waving grass and grain, Orchards, and beechen forests, basking lie, While deep the sunless glens are scooped between, Where brawl o'er shallow beds the streams unseen. A lisping voice and glancing eyes are near, And ever restless feet of one, who, now, Gathers the blossoms of her fourth bright year; There plays a gladness o'er her fair young brow, As breaks the varied scene upon her sight, Upheaved and spread in verdure and in light. For I have taught her, with delighted eye, To gaze upon the mountains,--to behold, With deep affection, the pure ample sky, And clouds along its blue abysses rolled,-- To love the song of waters, and to hear The melody of winds with charmed ear. Here, I have 'scaped the city's stifling heat, Its horrid sounds, and its polluted air; And, where the season's milder fervours beat, And gales, that sweep the forest borders, bear The song of bird, and sound of running stream, Am come awhile to wander and to dream. Ay, flame thy fiercest, sun! thou canst not wake, In this pure air, the plague that walks unseen. The maize leaf and the maple bough but take, From thy strong heats, a deeper, glossier green. The mountain wind, that faints not in thy ray, Sweeps the blue steams of pestilence away. The mountain wind! most spiritual thing of all The wide earth knows; when, in the sultry time, He stoops him from his vast cerulean hall, He seems the breath of a celestial clime! As if from heaven's wide-open gates did flow Health and refreshment on the world below.
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Her pellucid aileron's Upheaved me from that Hades Her Artistry's done by god Copied in van-gogh paintings!!!
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Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 5:45 PM UTC
ανυψώθηκε από τον Άδη ( uplifted from hades) greek tongue
Fair maid, your beauty sleeps on marble stone, Yet warm spring color drapes upon your breast, Whose rise and fall like splendoured kingly throne Would overthrow all doubt you are at rest; How delicate, how soft each gentle sip Of morning air delighting of your tongue, Playfully dancing over your sweet lips, Flitting away to voice your slumbered song; How sound you sleep, your tranquil dreams expressed By chest upheaved in rhythms, gaily dressed. Far far beyond awaking, do you roam With kindred spirits through a leafy glade? Nymphs born of elder days welcome you home To bathe in springs beneath old forest shade; They sing of love for when the world was young, When forests grew unhindered o'er the land, When each new day was blessed by endless sun, When fertile earth knew naught of desert sand: Your voice rejoiced to join their merry cheer, My ears rejoiced with every song they hear. Fair maid, I wonder will you e'er return, Or will the dreaming keep you for its own? My eyes behold your beauty, yet they yearn For tho' you are still here, I am alone; Bid farewell to the forests, to your kin, Bid farewell to each cool refreshing stream, Return to wear the beauty of your skin, Your kin will wait in some forever dream: But now I pray you'll wake, return to me, To see the dreams my eyes reflect of thee.
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Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 9:45 PM UTC
Ode To Frederic
Oh west wind, wrongfully called wild, Oh dear and tender Zephyrus, How could ever be your name befiled, If they knew your soft caress? A face so soft and rounded strong, And warm hands that softly comb through hairs. Yet do I despair now when I see The face that I adore. I see it dying, Zephyrus, why? Tell me, let me be part of your Sorrow and I will take your fate. Why, my love, do you look so sore? Is it us? Exhausts exhaust, Did we **** you in cold blood? Were you the one our lives have cost? Your lips they shiver white, Are you cold, Zephyrus, are you Still alright? It’s a fever! Am I right? My love, stay, I beg and plead, Don’t die there, Zephyrus, We'll get through this, I'll keep you upheaved. Zephyrus, please, where are you, are you gone? Zephyrus mine, don’t be dead. I want you to know that, I love you, Zephyrus, even if it’s wrong. I too have died, Zephyrus, knowing that I stopped your song.
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Jun 14, 2025
Jun 14, 2025 at 7:43 AM UTC
Zephyrus (alternative)
in the mist lay wake to harboured secrets like legends of a distant shore but without the heroine and lacking in proper plot development without need for a rising action and falling blind to a gasping ****** leaves breadth for raw discretion at an indiscreet source who found the confounded treasure and upheaved it from the hiding fort
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Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 11:09 PM UTC
Untitled
The dry leaves a whisper In the cool night air . The future lurking Face to face with the moon . He drank in her sigh. Inhaled . This night must last till there is no tomorrow. No thorns . No tears. Feeling a pleasant stir Darkness faded and slipped into perspective. Ocean dancers dream The music of the sands . The young optimistic The old find acceptance In dreams that have Gathered dust . Spiritually bloodied and beaten The morning was chaos In a minor key . In the waiting air of The storms eye . The old growth forest waded into the shallows As the wind moaned like a salty cello . The flag of her life was set at half mast . Following a path Of fire , Of ice . Listening to the song of the angels. Carried on the ancient winds of sorrow. She knew all the secret places between right and wrong . The angels song was one of tears That lightly pushed the waves Over the thorns . He ran back from the morning Fighting the odds of the elements. She was indegenous as the roots upheaved from a  withered oak . A wave of desolate fury Inside a sea of Wrongfulness Or Righteousness. The journey is not over .
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Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 2:56 PM UTC
Key of Sands
I keep looking back Grey shades flashing by Hear the songs fill the air Bring me back in time The past is staring me Directly in my eyes And yellow separates Between the finest lines Fumbling inside myself Building me back up Yesterday is fighting hard Now it’s not locked up Accelerate the space Pace and time Turn back around, To see myself, I’m fine In today’s reflections shine I’m sewed and stitched Trampled and battered blue But my insides finally Upheaved, and I’ve been born a new
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Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 11:25 PM UTC
Vehicle inside myself
Evil orange sun In no way either inherently, underneath it all all the smog, smoggy smoke and upheaved Dusty dirt is a life giver a killer a creator a cop A desire manifest Evil today, been evil still will be evil As long as its clouded this way And if its clouded this way for much longer I will seal its evil between my greenish eyes and the orange paste Reflection where the two colors have no Harmony only some kind of indifference which neither transcends or pierces the other and there’s no Way to tell if one knows the other exists The light hits all corners of my home and I cannot Escape this evil orange and when I close my eyes They only adjust to black according to the former Still evil and apocalyptic I am close To doing nothing anymore Till suddenly even nothing creeps back and presents Its evil and purposeless self right Before my illusory green and dumb eyes I am profound So profoundly struck by evil That my fear bubble has burst and Scattered its microscopic babies in every Direction to outlive its competition my wit And reality, non paranoic paranoid nerve endings and synapses and Neurons I am scattered now completely overpowered by tiny Tiny Evils I’ve created that this orange has put inside of me That I have grown and birthed I Am now going to sit and go about my evil day Eating my evil sandwich evil Thai food and Washing my evil hair as long as the orange sun shines on me Gods child
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Sep 13, 2020
Sep 13, 2020 at 11:08 PM UTC
It’s big it’s bright it’s evil and it’s orange
Life was simple and clean Nothing at all was dim. I would carry out my days with peace. But then I met him. My world was upheaved When I met the other side of me Sleeping a peaceful sleep, But threatening my right to be “I am me. Nobody else,” I once said Well I guess that was a lie Because now I'm looking up at him: I was never whole, even though I tried. Only one of us can carry on And I'm fighting till the end But I know that the world waits for him, Not me. Only he can mend. This world wasn't made for me But it was made for my other side I have to give him his stolen memories And release his hidden pride. So now on the edge of life and death I look at him and think about what I went through. “You're lucky,” I say, tears streaming down my face. “Looks like it really has to be you.”
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Feb 27, 2016
Feb 27, 2016 at 11:21 AM UTC
Roxas
Unaware of you at first You      Crept                 Upon me And strike ..... Weeping Winding me instantly     Unable to account for the cause Polluting and heavy Once started         It spreads through me      Overwhelming me      Tired and defeated      Mocked of pride      Put in place and offended      But deserved ??      self guilt and doubt stirring                                       an ocean ..... a bottomless pit Dragged up and upheaved To cut the surface sharp and wounded Still raw and open Unrealised ....           And ...... unaddressed Get back down .... now go Sink & Rest (C) Ashley Kane FB
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Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 1:58 PM UTC
Sadness
I can feel the cogs in my brain getting loose again, Not quite fitting - not quite spinning in time, Spitting sparks that fly, ignite and burn Bringing light to dark corners and melting locks that keep the past in its box. I pandora, so out of time, moving towards and away from you As I find my feet dancing in complex rhythms Driven by the drums of my demons that have learnt to remove their muzzles and sing Do you see this vessel shake out of tune? Do you feel the tremors that set muscles moving to the moments of memory? There is a girl that wants you to notice and wrap her up There is a girl that wants you to notice and give her up There is a girl that hopes you never notice something is up In my head again, Upheaved I can't quite sit still again, can't quite smile straight again. can't quite sleep right again so these pills sit tight on my tongue again Blue like my blood that calls out for more Blue like the bruises only my eyes still see Blue like the unsafe flame our science teacher warned us of, This blue has become apart of the essence of me Hot, I flicker in shades of the ocean, And blue flames flicker with violence I move blue, I move blind, With these waves in my mind That crash hard And lap slow. I can only apologise for the temper of my tides This sea is angry still, sad still, yet loves you still. I pray ur boat sails strong.
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Feb 28, 2020
Feb 28, 2020 at 2:28 PM UTC
I burn in shades of blue
Axis tilt pendulum plunged plane upheaved when wane has won. Incarnation cleansed as lovers spill trajected dreams of somedays still. Teetered fulcrum down to slide when tomorrows dim forboding good-bye. No more whens just glazed memories only binds left connecting you through me.
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Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 7:27 PM UTC
somedays still
The weight of the ideology flattens your upheaved chest. You speak, what you did not want to say. A fake hunger and pseudo-demands, put you on the pathless clouds. How would you now fly towards the sun? The polarization was deliberate, to usurp the authority. Blue jays have refused to join gangs. A faded document tells about your missteps. A bunch of eunuchs have come to guard the palace. Black versus black will not brighten the screen. One third of generation had the criminal record.
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Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 12:27 AM UTC
Never Wanting