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"vagary" poems
You Are untamed Reckless blood and wit intertwined A twisted, brazen
 mind. Your mind Is so clearly different It leaps and soars, so acrobatic And your thoughts appear to me so hazy and enigmatic Your mind is simply not pragmatic Yet your perception knows no bounds. You have thoughts that come close to insanity That sometimes flow in the form of profanity.    Your spirit Is either very high or very low Up and down, to and fro There is no in between for you Some say you are stupidly crazy The dull ones say that, the ones too lazy To see beyond the rugged surface. The subdued and vapid ones Will never understand the magnetism Of your sweet, exquisite devilry. On your face you often wear A fierce and restless stare A wan, discontented expression As though you're always awaiting Something bigger, Something better. You Are fluid, swaying fire And I will never tire Of watching you burn I can see you brain boil and churn As it reels into into areas of
 madness and chaos. Your psyche Is an endless field of dark reverie, Of fear and vagary. I know your night terrors Your savage dreams of death Screams and bated breath Unutterable visions The grotesque world of horror thats spins itself out And dribbles into your drawings All those creatures, skeletons gnashing and clawing... You Are gentle and thoughtful Yet you are terrified Of this dark thing that sleeps within you. Your eyes - they’re stunning They’re tempestuous, Wild, like some fierce animal peering out of a rusted cage Oh, your eyes They are something beautiful, but annihilating Like Autumn crocus flowers, innocently poisonous Lids splaying delicately like its violet leaves. You are tall and strong And uncontrollable, And your smile Is the biggest paradox I've ever encountered Childlike And fatal. You are not A creature of the commonplace You are not a slave of the ordinary You are not a mindless drudge of the mundane You are free. Or bewitched, what's the difference
0
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 5:21 PM UTC
You Are Insane
You Are untamed Reckless blood and wit intertwined A twisted, brazen
 mind. Your mind Is so clearly different It leaps and soars, so acrobatic And your thoughts appear to me so hazy and enigmatic Your mind is simply not pragmatic Yet your perception knows no bounds. You have thoughts that come close to insanity That sometimes flow in the form of profanity.    Your spirit Is either very high or very low Up and down, to and fro There is no in between for you Some say you are stupidly crazy The dull ones say that, the ones too lazy To see beyond the rugged surface. The subdued and vapid ones Will never understand the magnetism Of your sweet, exquisite devilry. On your face you often wear A fierce and restless stare A wan, discontented expression As though you're always awaiting Something bigger, Something better. You Are fluid, swaying fire And I will never tire Of watching you burn I can see you brain boil and churn As it reels into into areas of
 madness and chaos. Your psyche Is an endless field of dark reverie, Of fear and vagary. I know your night terrors Your savage dreams of death Screams and bated breath Unutterable visions The grotesque world of horror thats spins itself out And dribbles into your drawings All those creatures, skeletons gnashing and clawing... You Are gentle and thoughtful Yet you are terrified Of this dark thing that sleeps within you. Your eyes - they’re stunning They’re tempestuous, Wild, like some fierce animal peering out of a rusted cage Oh, your eyes They are something beautiful, but annihilating Like Autumn crocus flowers, innocently poisonous Lids splaying delicately like its violet leaves. You are tall and strong And uncontrollable, And your smile Is the biggest paradox I've ever encountered Childlike And fatal. You are not A creature of the commonplace You are not a slave of the ordinary You are not a mindless drudge of the mundane You are free. Or bewitched, what's the difference
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67
we are not the embodiment of beauty, despite the way your quips dance with my vagary, or how our bones are trophies built from the same bits of shrapnel from explosions, forged by hands who never learned how to fashion empires out of anything but fragments, no, we are much more than beautiful, we are isotopic, enigmatic, we’re magnetic and eclectic, we are the sum of all things, a compilation, a mosaic, we are a memoir of the universe, we are fate, we’re algebraic, we’re the intersection of two lines without a destination, but when i follow the trail of freckles up your spine, i find the root of my elation
0
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 3:05 PM UTC
compendium //
To cast an infinite chamber In certain places of the moon, To twist and to waltz Till the black night fades. Then soften at sultry morning Underneath a baobab tree While afternoon stroked the horizon lightly, Lovingly as I --- A strange yet, delightful vagary! To cast an infinite chamber In the beloved areola of the sun, Waltz! Twist! Twist! Till the brisk day is done. Soften at fallow night… Underneath the baobab tree… Night stroking gingerly Lovingly as I.
0
Sep 8, 2012
Sep 8, 2012 at 12:03 AM UTC
Lovingly As I
...You, dearest vagary, aplomb--were brought to bear. Vicissitude of memory which is the dispersion of identity. Of a time, and of a place--you, a mellifluous bronze dusk poured upon a meadow, a solitary immersion, a moment that harnesses the whole of the earth, as you are...dearest vagary. You were afforded as by the citizenry of the air, lent by an intercontinental wind. An undying eloquence featured for all time--the swaying bud blown to bloom. You...the beautification of possibility, its matrices never left in want. As in withstanding place the round is made, and remade about you, the whole of the earth. Thus, you've no confounding words... have you? Thus, this sidelong expenditure that you may-- shall breach the earth you shall.
0
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 11:09 AM UTC
Dearest Vagary
My wanderlust is for now sustained; I have a tendency for vagary, A solivagant nature in my blood. I hope my last departure is final, But I have much more adventure in me. For now, tacenda is my hearts' content.
0
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 1:15 PM UTC
Tacenda
god i love fiddling with Kant... i still don't understand why Nietzsche thought he was a senile old bachelor in the end... **** similis...       the grand APE... now...     is the ape a creature: a priori, os is the ape a creature: a posteriori? then again, i was once accused of speaking out of my own *** by a slob Jew in Edinburgh, as i was also jested at with the words     'we'll crucify you' at a UCL drama take on the plight of the Palestinians... **** me...      motley crue dr. feelgood style... i guess when the last of the last Holocaust survivors are dead...   the gloves come off and we can... rattle the bare-knuckle slicks... nope... i always preferred a drunkard's slang to an ass-licking             ****** addict's slack; but don't get me wrong, i could read a Burroughs' novel in a day...     just... drenched.... in (a) hypnotic chaos of juxtaposition; frantic vagary... like watching a **** of a fly darting here and there; p.s.    (adjective & noun - so, no... frantic vagary is not a "misnomer"...    it's a doubled emphasis). ah... the benefits of acquired rather than the native usage of the, spreschen - hen hen... no spre(h)- -shen.
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Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 10:52 AM UTC
**** similis
Little by little, The colors of the fair are going to finish One day, It will be the end   Of all the vagary Slow decay of the days This known Spring afternoon   Turn to be fading   Tired Going to be end Who has left thy love Thy hide all secrets in the heart Days have lost within the days Getting the path between the path On what hope, Loved to Back And what means    The life    Family Two days of this world   One day you come   One day you go Know the hearts who are loving    Singing    Going On what for her mind cry She who left her mind In half of the way How She grabs all the demands! Whatever words She departed In the Songs of despair So Mind Say Who is where Who is for whom Thy know Not Anybody else Passing the every moment    Alienating      Loveless    Mysterious Such a colorful world    Growing    Glittering   But this known Spring afternoon   Turn to be fading   Tired Slow decay of the days Growing to fade your face Going to be End @Musfiq us shaleheen
0
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 2:30 PM UTC
decay of days
Mislayed into a abysmal reverie Like sitting idly in the dark Relegated and cast aside Residing in a transitional place A midway state of imprisonment Bordering a intermediate reality In a fantasy of the unknown Compacted within rage and peace Hallucinations and premonitions Guide my space of entrapment Inside this world of inception I feel like a ghostly embodiment A entity inside my own mind Lost in a indefinite mirage The apparition of a phantom Longing for a way out Into a externalizing release To reach a metigated outward form To becalm and sooth my waves Assuaged my grief and pain My spirit must alleviate Wake into the shimmering light From this overwhelming dreamland I often question myself How did I cross the border? Into the threshold of chimera This beastly uncanny form A wonderland of uncertainty My brain has seemed to freeze Succumbing to a brick of emotions I have a potpourri of thoughts A war of the good, bad and ugly Yielding of a unrestrained musing And now I seem to be descending Furthermore dropping deeper Into a vagary of dreams A occurrence of sloping slumber Such a unbearable enclosure It's hard to snap out of.. It's difficult to escape from.. This ******* of my soul Tightly submerged in the depths Of a hammering state of limbo... ©Michael P. Smith
0
Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 8:07 PM UTC
State Of Limbo
*A feeling Is not about who is best Art Is not a contest To insist on a victor Is an ego that has broken Showering hate upon the lives Of hearts that are open* What may or may not be poetry Is instead the heart of our family You commented rather pointedly About your superior ability And eloquent verbosity Most likely derived from history Of the friends of Neal Cassidy And other written eccentricity Yet you forgot your humanity And instead introduced a monstrosity An ego steeped in personal vanity Insisting on being treated royally Demanding your subjects bow immediately As you crashed into the sea of tranquility Planting your flag of superiority And crushing our words spoken so plainly But heartfully Because the letters are unworthy To one who is challenged emotionally Unable to live peacefully Amongst those who wish to learn gratefully About a craft you have reserved selfishly For yourself and those you deem to be equally As adept as yourself in the vagary Of references you declare to be wholly Fresh and newly Minted by your ability To walk around the cliché so gracefully While we repeatedly Use words such as lovely Or heavenly Or tearfully Or holy So we beg you openly To understand what is primary In a place for the novice to publically Air their emotions unapologetically And speak candidly And unconditionally About how painfully It is to live freely In a place so worldly Where men think judgmentally ******* the life from those who live meekly And wish to exist thankfully Amongst those who understand brotherly Love and who affectionately Praise those who tenderly Open their hearts to humanity Giving mercy To those without the gifts you egotistically Bludgeoned us with so artfully But failing miserably To impart insightfully Your wisdom for those who willingly Would receive daily Your transcendently And insightfully Spoken songs of serenity But instead you callously Reminded us unfortunately That mere man is weakly Empowered to exist commonly And instead arrogantly Cuts the rose greedily Leaving the thorns sadistically
0
Mar 6, 2012
Mar 6, 2012 at 9:11 AM UTC
Criticism
*A feeling Is not about who is best Art Is not a contest To insist on a victor Is an ego that has broken Showering hate upon the lives Of hearts that are open* What may or may not be poetry Is instead the heart of our family You commented rather pointedly About your superior ability And eloquent verbosity Most likely derived from history Of the friends of Neal Cassidy And other written eccentricity Yet you forgot your humanity And instead introduced a monstrosity An ego steeped in personal vanity Insisting on being treated royally Demanding your subjects bow immediately As you crashed into the sea of tranquility Planting your flag of superiority And crushing our words spoken so plainly But heartfully Because the letters are unworthy To one who is challenged emotionally Unable to live peacefully Amongst those who wish to learn gratefully About a craft you have reserved selfishly For yourself and those you deem to be equally As adept as yourself in the vagary Of references you declare to be wholly Fresh and newly Minted by your ability To walk around the cliché so gracefully While we repeatedly Use words such as lovely Or heavenly Or tearfully Or holy So we beg you openly To understand what is primary In a place for the novice to publically Air their emotions unapologetically And speak candidly And unconditionally About how painfully It is to live freely In a place so worldly Where men think judgmentally ******* the life from those who live meekly And wish to exist thankfully Amongst those who understand brotherly Love and who affectionately Praise those who tenderly Open their hearts to humanity Giving mercy To those without the gifts you egotistically Bludgeoned us with so artfully But failing miserably To impart insightfully Your wisdom for those who willingly Would receive daily Your transcendently And insightfully Spoken songs of serenity But instead you callously Reminded us unfortunately That mere man is weakly Empowered to exist commonly And instead arrogantly Cuts the rose greedily Leaving the thorns sadistically
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74
O monogamy, sweet so monogamy Have me by this rimy night so I may bear your cold’st kiss To espy eyes blazed in scarlet hue If not for this holding us part, touching firm this instance Of what I feel now I could not feel ever, Could I bask in aughts - a goodness too true as so a sight worth sights If pulchritude, if vagary... To innerstand this sorrow, this phase, this ending of me So lovesick of vanity, this night owes me tears But tonight she has me, by her brassiere, by lips Tangl’d in manner and salaciousness - her being to be Wonder of me, wonder me; if I ever your knight Wonder if I am enough, manifest your ways unto me Demand I exist, under your eyes Impart this velleity, four ways for ways... Have me, O monogamy With you will I always be? Your sabbath, your blind’st bliss as too mine Split with me another moment for much time has rot Mongst this lour’st hour my heart is wounded by the thorns of essence To think we are but not cause to this grieve In sooth; this everly passion now a mortal’s pule Stay with me on this last’d night A midnight kiss, a midnight touch, fragrance, a gentle glare... Monogamy, monogamy.
0
Jan 20, 2018
Jan 20, 2018 at 8:38 PM UTC
Untitled
Love, your glow rests easily across the blueness of our feather I sit the idyllic frailty on changing valleys like an eternal fountain Your harmonies serenade us as if it were a cashmere vagary Love, you are my singing silvery, yet a fading shadow Love, you are my flower You shall murmur me delightfully
0
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 1:06 AM UTC
Fading shadow
Fates transmuted Beguiled by the labium of disaster; as it emanates fallacies of mirth; a vagary unattainable
0
Apr 27, 2012
Apr 27, 2012 at 6:30 AM UTC
Neophyte
DO YOU KNOW THE SANDMAN?: (writing/poetry) Shhhh... Do you know the sandman.. .. the sandman? Do you know the sandman.. .. the sandman? well, I do hightailing in your vagary like whip lashes to your backside he is what dreams cannot give your eyes what a lonely surprise he and the shadows combined but he is spelling your dreams sleeping beside you in waves of moonlight and he snatches away the lucent in wake beside you he is whispering.... ... shhhh do you known the sandman... ... the sandman? do you know the sandman... ... the sandman? If you do well then, he knows you too.. once upon many dreams you've met and on one too many wheels turning... he crept while it spins you're in an abominable threat he'll tare down your sunlight thinking he was the moonlight ringing in your ears yet he huggs you in tighter to never awake he loves to stay still and never likes to move on he poke's at ever membrain holding in all what's meant in his palms hold your soul, in control cities in your mind in abominiation destruction and fear there, standing in the shadows he is waiting. Do you know the sandman.. .. the sadnman? Do you know the sandman? .. well, I do. (INCREDIBLE INK- TEAM JAGUAR HAWAII) © Rebel of Eden
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Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 1:07 AM UTC
DO YOU KNOW THE SANDMAN?:
I could move on, I could stay put, I chased you for a while I might of just chased you for the chase. If that be the case Then I must depart I must start looking for a new chase to start. But, I know if you're happy While I'm still chasing I'm going to want to come back. My feelings running an endless loop Even you're sweetness couldn't decay my tooth Don't give me *** that'll be the end Funny how at first all I wanted was to be your friend.
0
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 8:47 PM UTC
Vagary
I have dreamt of life and of death Traversed the universe in one breath I feel like a different kind of human being I look at the world others don't know what I am seeing I feel like the Canis Majoris star I am truly massive, just not from afar
0
Mar 8, 2010
Mar 8, 2010 at 9:05 AM UTC
Verbal Vagary
*The Moonlit Aethers bleed Titanium Rays As mine Forlorn Eyes Saunter thine Porcelain Skin: Platinum Matriarch upon Swarthy Expanse reigns Azure Luminaries cascade Upon The Forested Glades of my Airy Soulwaves. Ensorcelled is that Sylvan Shrine, The Reliquary of the Starry Wish. (O, that            Loveless Blight                                   might cease) I Besought the Firmaments From Dusk to Dawn Lamenting in Dirge Of the Revenant Skies; Eons transcended yet no hand to hold The Benediction of Romance An Ephemeral Throne. The Pandemonium corporealizes Wraiths in my mind; (Perdition is Thew       The          Poltergeist's Might) Ivory Visage of the Impearled Hallows my Spirit Quells the Abyss. The Thew of Deities Purged from my veins Quaking my quintessence, I fathomed I was naught. A mere figment, An existential vagary: ~BUT NOW I SEE We are All But a Dream Clinging yearningly to the Promise of Hope (The Covenant of Ensouled Dust) Groping for Eternity, Memory, and the Lightwaves To be Vested in our pulse; For Corporeality; Ascendency To the Chrysalis of The Astral, The Cradle of Cosmogenesis: Our Cosmos, Our  Zephyr, Our Magma, Our Torrent, Our Tremor, Our Thunderclap, Our Time, Our Space, Our Nexus to Efflorescence, Our Incorporeal Sublimity~ I shall surrender to Providence of the Supernal His Empyrean Wings (An Impregnable Aegis) A Strewn Vestige once was I But the Somnolent Beloved was roused Whence I glimpsed into thine eyes. The Vagrant Loveless is resurrected Reawakened as a Doughty Knight Warring against sequestration (Until by Nirvana) Abeyance devours this blight. ~Dream        You starry-eyed wayfarers,                 Surrender sovereignty to credence              When Star-crossed                    Conspire against the Fates                           For when Elysium                                     Is your Beloved                        The Ancient of Yore                                 Shall lead you nebulous streams                               To the Holy Oracle                                       Prophesying the fulfillment                                                Of your Intemerate Hope                                 (For Love, myriads doven the skies)                                                                          Please Believe,                                                     Just,                                                   Believe in me.~*
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Nov 21, 2017
Nov 21, 2017 at 3:02 PM UTC
The Cradle of Cosmogenesis
*The Moonlit Aethers bleed Titanium Rays As mine Forlorn Eyes Saunter thine Porcelain Skin: Platinum Matriarch upon Swarthy Expanse reigns Azure Luminaries cascade Upon The Forested Glades of my Airy Soulwaves. Ensorcelled is that Sylvan Shrine, The Reliquary of the Starry Wish. (O, that            Loveless Blight                                   might cease) I Besought the Firmaments From Dusk to Dawn Lamenting in Dirge Of the Revenant Skies; Eons transcended yet no hand to hold The Benediction of Romance An Ephemeral Throne. The Pandemonium corporealizes Wraiths in my mind; (Perdition is Thew       The          Poltergeist's Might) Ivory Visage of the Impearled Hallows my Spirit Quells the Abyss. The Thew of Deities Purged from my veins Quaking my quintessence, I fathomed I was naught. A mere figment, An existential vagary: ~BUT NOW I SEE We are All But a Dream Clinging yearningly to the Promise of Hope (The Covenant of Ensouled Dust) Groping for Eternity, Memory, and the Lightwaves To be Vested in our pulse; For Corporeality; Ascendency To the Chrysalis of The Astral, The Cradle of Cosmogenesis: Our Cosmos, Our  Zephyr, Our Magma, Our Torrent, Our Tremor, Our Thunderclap, Our Time, Our Space, Our Nexus to Efflorescence, Our Incorporeal Sublimity~ I shall surrender to Providence of the Supernal His Empyrean Wings (An Impregnable Aegis) A Strewn Vestige once was I But the Somnolent Beloved was roused Whence I glimpsed into thine eyes. The Vagrant Loveless is resurrected Reawakened as a Doughty Knight Warring against sequestration (Until by Nirvana) Abeyance devours this blight. ~Dream        You starry-eyed wayfarers,                 Surrender sovereignty to credence              When Star-crossed                    Conspire against the Fates                           For when Elysium                                     Is your Beloved                        The Ancient of Yore                                 Shall lead you nebulous streams                               To the Holy Oracle                                       Prophesying the fulfillment                                                Of your Intemerate Hope                                 (For Love, myriads doven the skies)                                                                          Please Believe,                                                     Just,                                                   Believe in me.~*
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*Once upon a breeze The sweetest dreams Turned into memories*
0
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 11:30 PM UTC
Vagary
Πάπυρος είναι δική μου άποροι ταινία, είναι ντεμοντέ να καμίνι του άλλου, όπως feeleth το τσίμπημα της κάθε καταγγελίας !!! Όπου είναι εραστής ορυχείο διαμορφωμένο φυτεία; καμουφλαρισμένη σε drag and επίγεια βλοσυρό ύφος του; ορυχείο κόκκινο μπαλόνι ουρλιαχτό στην ηλιακή παγετώνων !!! όμως, δεν πρέπει να υπάρχει πάγωμα σε θερμά μπάλα φωτός. Τώρα tis κουραστική μέρα και νύχτα unharmonious να θρηνεί σε shakespherian κομψό ..... για πού είχε συ προπορεύεται μπουτίκ; όπου λουλούδι για σένα έχω την οποίαν αποθηκεύονται !!! εγώ δεν εξερευνήσουν να προσαρμόσουν όπως πένθος, ήταν να είναι δύσκολο να ψάχνει, πραγματικό το πρωί; Δεν είναι μια ιδιοτροπία μου splitteth ως τσεκούρι για ξύλινα περικαλύπτω. ορυχείο ανίερη γλώσσα crinches ορυχείο δόντια, να δαγκώσει φίδι ειδώλιο τρόπο ..... Paragon των farawayness, η συστολή σου hath μου άφησε, λιώνω στο να έχουν ακόμη haveth μηδέν !! Ωστόσο, ακόμα και όλη αυτή την κόλαση, το ορυχείο oldened λείψανο πάπυρο θέλεις να αποκατασταθεί πλήρως εκατό φορές ..... δείτε, NOF αυτή η καρδιά του αυτό το τρομάζω γήινης σφαίρας ( Greek tongue ) English version- Papyrus is mine destitute film, it's old fashioned to other's kiln, as i feeleth the sting of all denunciation!!! Wherein is mine lover fashioned plantation? camouflaged in drag and terrestrial scowl's? mine red baloon howl's to solar glaciation!!! yet, there should be no freeze to a warmly ball of light. Now tis long day's and unharmonious night's to lament in shakespherian chic..... for whence did thou goeth boutique? wherein flower's for thee i hast stored!!! i do not explore to tailor such mourning, was it to hard to seeketh real in the morning? Not a vagary to splitteth me as axe to wooden sheathe. mine unholy tongue crinches mine teeth, to bite in snake figurine manner..... Paragon of farawayness, thy shyness hath left me, i languish in must have's yet haveth naught!! Yet in even all this hell, mine oldened relic papyrus shalt be fully restored a hundred fold..... see, this heart's not of this daunt terrestrial globe.....
0
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 4:51 PM UTC
Broken glass figurine
Πάπυρος είναι δική μου άποροι ταινία, είναι ντεμοντέ να καμίνι του άλλου, όπως feeleth το τσίμπημα της κάθε καταγγελίας !!! Όπου είναι εραστής ορυχείο διαμορφωμένο φυτεία; καμουφλαρισμένη σε drag and επίγεια βλοσυρό ύφος του; ορυχείο κόκκινο μπαλόνι ουρλιαχτό στην ηλιακή παγετώνων !!! όμως, δεν πρέπει να υπάρχει πάγωμα σε θερμά μπάλα φωτός. Τώρα tis κουραστική μέρα και νύχτα unharmonious να θρηνεί σε shakespherian κομψό ..... για πού είχε συ προπορεύεται μπουτίκ; όπου λουλούδι για σένα έχω την οποίαν αποθηκεύονται !!! εγώ δεν εξερευνήσουν να προσαρμόσουν όπως πένθος, ήταν να είναι δύσκολο να ψάχνει, πραγματικό το πρωί; Δεν είναι μια ιδιοτροπία μου splitteth ως τσεκούρι για ξύλινα περικαλύπτω. ορυχείο ανίερη γλώσσα crinches ορυχείο δόντια, να δαγκώσει φίδι ειδώλιο τρόπο ..... Paragon των farawayness, η συστολή σου hath μου άφησε, λιώνω στο να έχουν ακόμη haveth μηδέν !! Ωστόσο, ακόμα και όλη αυτή την κόλαση, το ορυχείο oldened λείψανο πάπυρο θέλεις να αποκατασταθεί πλήρως εκατό φορές ..... δείτε, NOF αυτή η καρδιά του αυτό το τρομάζω γήινης σφαίρας ( Greek tongue ) English version- Papyrus is mine destitute film, it's old fashioned to other's kiln, as i feeleth the sting of all denunciation!!! Wherein is mine lover fashioned plantation? camouflaged in drag and terrestrial scowl's? mine red baloon howl's to solar glaciation!!! yet, there should be no freeze to a warmly ball of light. Now tis long day's and unharmonious night's to lament in shakespherian chic..... for whence did thou goeth boutique? wherein flower's for thee i hast stored!!! i do not explore to tailor such mourning, was it to hard to seeketh real in the morning? Not a vagary to splitteth me as axe to wooden sheathe. mine unholy tongue crinches mine teeth, to bite in snake figurine manner..... Paragon of farawayness, thy shyness hath left me, i languish in must have's yet haveth naught!! Yet in even all this hell, mine oldened relic papyrus shalt be fully restored a hundred fold..... see, this heart's not of this daunt terrestrial globe.....
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4
bathing chandel      eirs     exhausted by nomads retreating within the paracosm of a Mountaintop            snow in your voice a bell being sounded        bell(((((               )))))    receptive to the running water   a sauna made of afterflower       you have heard the gospel of lazy shoepolish/obsidian palms      and worried over     beaches that are really just an exte nsion of the whole jealous Pacific flaura shyly stripped of glory      whisp ering like a convent  about the mist applause   the python noise of hot springs                      where its inhabitants were born/why they release a certain desperate O   to the mountaintop sleeping with        spirited confidence      this palace of stone which relies on no approval   not even the sky, or the early tangerine dawn     not silence         or previous wars, these travellers seek to cocoon & spring forth as a        colossus     that no longer has the capibility for tears            where home becomes world as rock communions with Yggdrasil         and the leviathan of time will collapse     unceremoniously before the first leaf  of the newly formed valley has ever heard Autumn's seductions             ah, the golden migrant wreathed in    the liquid base of their worship     may oneday achieve   an absolute renouncement of the soul    for a bluebird to be born amid the overgrowth
0
Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 10:59 PM UTC
vagary of Maquinna
bathing chandel      eirs     exhausted by nomads retreating within the paracosm of a Mountaintop            snow in your voice a bell being sounded        bell(((((               )))))    receptive to the running water   a sauna made of afterflower       you have heard the gospel of lazy shoepolish/obsidian palms      and worried over     beaches that are really just an exte nsion of the whole jealous Pacific flaura shyly stripped of glory      whisp ering like a convent  about the mist applause   the python noise of hot springs                      where its inhabitants were born/why they release a certain desperate O   to the mountaintop sleeping with        spirited confidence      this palace of stone which relies on no approval   not even the sky, or the early tangerine dawn     not silence         or previous wars, these travellers seek to cocoon & spring forth as a        colossus     that no longer has the capibility for tears            where home becomes world as rock communions with Yggdrasil         and the leviathan of time will collapse     unceremoniously before the first leaf  of the newly formed valley has ever heard Autumn's seductions             ah, the golden migrant wreathed in    the liquid base of their worship     may oneday achieve   an absolute renouncement of the soul    for a bluebird to be born amid the overgrowth
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The painting opposite the bartender hangs him every night. It's a portrait of his ex-wife who owns the joint and holds the mortgage on his rotting future. He tells his regulars it's all the way you look at things, or you can make a case for truth or untruth about anything. What's your pleasure? But always some vagary will collide his glance against the portrait-- and it's then he feels himself twist a little creaking millimeter more...
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Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 5:34 PM UTC
THE HANGING
Ah! if my youth were a perdurable trance! My reality not roused till a sun's expanse; where an aeon could prompt the first blush. Perhaps, though those extended dreams were flush with futile grieving, yet better than algid facts of Existence, & relieving kindled verve, to whose heart just is, and always has since birth; still within the pleasing earth, a snarl of longing rage from her surge. But should it come to pass--that vagary unceasingly continuing-- as trances have always passed in my youth--could it be this winnowing revelled in the sky in dreams in their bright truth found lost within a great lie in dreams of happier times? I shall slumber a bit longer, to seek out the scatterings of Life's little difficult answers: but I age all the while I sleep on hopes and wake I still anchored.
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Mar 3, 2017
Mar 3, 2017 at 10:55 PM UTC
On The Morrow
I am spatial, / I understand, / I fathom, / Through distance, space, & time, / I see clearly, pristinely through you & I. / 'Do not forsake me, / I am everywhere,' / He says to me, / And I unfalteringly, / Unwaveringly, I believe / In Him, are treasures: / The opulence, / The affluence, the direction, / Of one-million / Guiding stars. / You are a sign, / A beacon of hope to the lightbearers; furthermore, / A portent, / Ominous, pernicious, / To the Cimmerian shadow. / I know you / You, / I love / You, / For that I am grateful. / What is love? / An existential vagary? / Perhaps not. / It is real, it is tangible, / When He is in my arms. / Mi amour, / Mi amour, / Mi amour, / Mi amour, / Me encanta, mi amour. /
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Dec 18, 2023
Dec 18, 2023 at 3:15 PM UTC
Dictum of Gratitude (Originally penned on Monday, December 18th, 2023)
inside me there is a door rotating colors. it opens once I'm quiet. my tacit breath smiles. dimensions merge together; like a submerged view of the sun. vagary spirit; feeling umbuntu.
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Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 10:01 PM UTC
moving through
Father loved you as baby Jesus as sounds of mercies evaporated from the retro vinyls on the oak where songs were strong melodies straws of eyed prolific memories   fine layers of emotional resonance At the beat of careless whispers I danced with many a strangers inside the dreamt  cold daydreams as I lay on my buried teenage bed the harmonies full of comfort and sounds that taught me love As Jesus to a child, I was blinded fainted at the entrance of a future satin silk covers and clouded hues as sadness made love to my corpse   How is it I haven't really changed? As the misery of the music haunts At the different corner I shed tears as poetry became my only shield under the table the torrents vented at the knock of the awesome magic where love was felt and promised and then shed to eventful shades Take me back to all these years Bring me again to the beginning at the table where we greeted Every note, pitch and words remains a vagary of the present tunes with a stain of now and then
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Dec 26, 2016
Dec 26, 2016 at 3:41 PM UTC
Tribute to George Micheal
Chiliad years Logaphiles were written for us in many Eurythmic Forms to help comprehend ones Alexithymic; The Orphic Lyrics of Luftmensh Scops, The Evanescence of Classical Pieces of Merak Musicians, The Timeless Dotish Word in an Aubade, The Aeipathy behind a Bindlestill Writing Effable Lines to an Auralize Of an Epoch Poem, The Sillage of Camhanich in the Lyrics of a Trouvaille Song, Many Vagary were written under the Angelic Moon Phase with Mid-Summer Nites Dwaat Melliflous of the Lite Breeze through the Trees
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Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 11:48 AM UTC
Conorous of Miridical Words