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"veiling" poems
i slipped out into the waves of watercolour that broke themselves upon the shore of the horizon and i disappeared as they darkened into black i escaped through the sunset as words were climbing up my legs setting fire to my ears and forcing me to retreat away from the choking letters and sinking ink that tattooed all this sound into my skin at first, the sunset saved me and the waves that gently hit the dock felt like a heartbeat telling me that this was how it would always be but soon, i began to miss the panic just for the simple fact that it was a feeling and the sunset had stolen them all from me leaving me bare, black and stretched high above unable to land on the ground again unable to even blink stars down onto the grass unable to do anything other than wait for the sun to rise again but solstice has already passed and the dark hours grow longer again and i am pulled thin, veiling a world that accepts me as the night and doesn't even miss the stars
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Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 11:05 AM UTC
sunset
To the niqab girl whom I met in Cagaya De Oro City You were in front of me as we waited in line for hours We smiled first politely and then we began to talk, We Shared different insights in almost everything: Your face veiling practice in Islam fascinated me My headcovering as Christian piqued your curiosity Conversations turned to fashion, extremism, and Filipinos, You saw my face and I saw your beautiful eyes Yet we never asked each other's names or Facebook accounts, We were different yet somehow we mirrored each other; Different religions yet linked by passion to serve God Different ethnicity and language yet tied by nationality. It's been weeks since the Marawi siege and I think of you Hoping that every niqab girl I see in Iligan is you We were strangers that rainy afternoon of June 2016 Yet I grieve for your loss - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Words are not enough to comfort you sister of the stars but May your Allah guide and protect you in these times May my Jesus cover you with His precious Holy blood, To the niqab girl whom I met in Cagayan De Oro City Perhaps we'll never see each other again in the future but Thank you for letting me see the beauty of cultural diversity And that coexistence is possible if we have open minds And living in harmony is attainable if we open our hearts.
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Jun 6, 2017
Jun 6, 2017 at 6:04 AM UTC
Niqab Girl
Monotonous existence I am veiling my daydreams I am drowning it seems Alive I am dead Ignoring thoughts in my head Monotonous existence
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Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 11:22 PM UTC
Double Haiku
A slow walk up Centennial and I still can’t find the place it's menacing cold, and muted and the street sweeper and winter breeze move the Turkish blend and dust pack A novice mixed duet plays Brahms on broken strings the erhu and overcoat veiling a blue heeler and sphinx Maggianos is settled in the center block’s luminance and seasonal drape it's festive warmth bringing home Bedford Falls; the flavour and character and social circles Annie’s playing and the keeper's singing (his word pool and slander raising everyone in arms!) the crowd chants and mayhem breaks as crawlers and contemporaries smash their steins Dark alleys and dripping holes hold a grim reminder of the pierced underside paddies flutter and forge their words with a broad manifesto Night gardens come alive (slowly sapping the respite) hunched figures and ladies in lace shuffle inside the big orange door
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Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 11:25 PM UTC
The Orange Door
heavy, deep and dark. louder, louder; the twofold pounding of clockwork respiration. thud, (thud-thud) goddess arms hang into the abyss, like dead weight. depth obscures, lesser life forms meander on their own, unaware of the wayward colossus. /lonely/ a shroud of antiquity suspended -- veiling the secret of ages. thud, [thud-thud] percussive life continues alone, out of time. evolving longing
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Nov 14, 2012
Nov 14, 2012 at 1:04 AM UTC
formerly known as giant squid
midnight dark is my true love’s kiss of clove and citrus scented cradled in the subtle woven voices of the conspiratorial night wind soft as the silver-blue edges of light cast from nocturnal lanterns sharing in silent thunder secrets held in coffers of crimson jade blazing with the vibrance of constellations blown before celestial storms full as skyward Luna rounded and buxom heavy with desire veiling my worldly sight so her truth can pierce me blinding me that I may see
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Mar 8, 2023
Mar 8, 2023 at 11:25 PM UTC
Transfigure
**** men predatory *** hounds chasing skirts and tights aching **** idiots disciples of Eros Christs of fetish reconciling nothing veiling that principled demeanor of feminist culture "of don't objectify me".....translation sensual form is not natures ruse machine Eve must override override override well the id does not negotiate the superstructure of affected political tele-reality starring the liberal chattering class who speculate male motives to be some vainglorious power trip while corporatized media personalities feign out of control lust as a mental disorder and sit up like shuddering Pekingese yessing the lascivious as a fiction no ladies its not just power theories are not testosterone it is pure unadulterated relentless irreducible urge to merge like the beluga **** channel sea world as you've never seen it before where male dolphins batter and gang bang the weaker *** in search of feral harmony in an overbuilt society yet to become a civilization are we scissored between a wild ****** id of the damed and the Victorian sacred of the damed oh you silky damsels makin men moody and humid pure **** heroine a poison ivy of *** like a rash givin men folk the itch cant stop the twitch rubber ******* in a rubbing frenzy from your soaking heat and odor we are  a rumbling of muttering torments for the forbidden taste of you oooow oooow we are pan in a mad dance for glistening shanks and buttery kisses we are the early bird looking for the worm hunters decreed by the liturgy of heaven and hell a constellation of infatuation and lechery mad with adoration love slaves in a raging furnace of desire *** addicts that just say yes turgid dogs hole sniffers voluptuous monsters all johnny apple seed and sometimes your salvation as you are ours knowing that sometimes real eroticism eclipses morality and yes my darlings* NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
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Dec 15, 2017
Dec 15, 2017 at 12:55 PM UTC
THE TERROR OF WOMEN
**** men predatory *** hounds chasing skirts and tights aching **** idiots disciples of Eros Christs of fetish reconciling nothing veiling that principled demeanor of feminist culture "of don't objectify me".....translation sensual form is not natures ruse machine Eve must override override override well the id does not negotiate the superstructure of affected political tele-reality starring the liberal chattering class who speculate male motives to be some vainglorious power trip while corporatized media personalities feign out of control lust as a mental disorder and sit up like shuddering Pekingese yessing the lascivious as a fiction no ladies its not just power theories are not testosterone it is pure unadulterated relentless irreducible urge to merge like the beluga **** channel sea world as you've never seen it before where male dolphins batter and gang bang the weaker *** in search of feral harmony in an overbuilt society yet to become a civilization are we scissored between a wild ****** id of the damed and the Victorian sacred of the damed oh you silky damsels makin men moody and humid pure **** heroine a poison ivy of *** like a rash givin men folk the itch cant stop the twitch rubber ******* in a rubbing frenzy from your soaking heat and odor we are  a rumbling of muttering torments for the forbidden taste of you oooow oooow we are pan in a mad dance for glistening shanks and buttery kisses we are the early bird looking for the worm hunters decreed by the liturgy of heaven and hell a constellation of infatuation and lechery mad with adoration love slaves in a raging furnace of desire *** addicts that just say yes turgid dogs hole sniffers voluptuous monsters all johnny apple seed and sometimes your salvation as you are ours knowing that sometimes real eroticism eclipses morality and yes my darlings* NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
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102
What joy calls Silent Noise plagues me too As the new love in young hides behind the sun The House of Monaco burns it is a simple matter and joy pretends in two and three She accuses that it is all in the eyes Loosely veiling self doubt in the idealism of love Complexity contradicts and she gives up Preferring to live inside It wants what it wants and Joy succumbs drinking water she knows is poison You are not a hopeless romantic Joy You are a Romantic You are all Woman And twice as amazing -The Zone Your **** has torn my hinges off..... obliterated my door
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Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 1:07 PM UTC
"Joy"
Remind me not, remind me not, Of those beloved, those vanish’d hours, When all my soul was given to thee; Hours that may never be forgot, Till Time unnerves our vital powers, And thou and I shall cease to be. Can I forget—canst thou forget, When playing with thy golden hair, How quick thy fluttering heart did move? Oh! by my soul, I see thee yet, With eyes so languid, breast so fair, And lips, though silent, breathing love. When thus reclining on my breast, Those eyes threw back a glance so sweet, As half reproach’d yet rais’d desire, And still we near and nearer prest, And still our glowing lips would meet, As if in kisses to expire. And then those pensive eyes would close, And bid their lids each other seek, Veiling the azure orbs below; While their long lashes’ darken’d gloss Seem’d stealing o’er thy brilliant cheek, Like raven’s plumage smooth’d on snow. I dreamt last night our love return’d, And, sooth to say, that very dream Was sweeter in its phantasy, Than if for other hearts I burn’d, For eyes that ne’er like thine could beam In Rapture’s wild reality. Then tell me not, remind me not, Of hours which, though for ever gone, Can still a pleasing dream restore, Till thou and I shall be forgot, And senseless, as the mouldering stone Which tells that we shall be no more.
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2.9k
Remind Me Not, Remind Me Not
Insouciance first fall we took the night half-illuminated dreamy stereo sketchy static through ear’s round bell smile we owe it slanted, bendable light moon becomes another genre to listen lilt even before methods of lip procure shaded meaning cohered on a closed door – opened finding a semblance of Sun there, veiling a traffic of cirrus in the elongated road of blue skies it was time to point-source a home taller than grass in Summer pinpointing scenes to exact a long divide and make it by punishing it post-peak, let it drift with unrelenting quickness past mouthed rivers and from the lessening fog of the same morning i will puncture it true, eyes set forth into your absence *you’ll bloom you’ll bloom.*
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Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 8:31 AM UTC
You'll Bloom, You'll Bloom
It’s morning and there’s an incoming, your receptors sense a spark of sadness so they take it and mash it and all of a sudden It’s here: nothingness. Staring into the perpetual vastness of a mind that you have and there are no signs of life no remnants of emotion that could indicate something once lived and breathed and laughed in this abyss in this blackness so until Doc bumps up the milligram for the fifth time around I can distract myself with people, places and plants and listen to his South African accent while imagining a planet rational to my mind devoid of even the most microscopic of organisms. Not a patio brick or a single tumble bug of my childhood remains, only these deep lacerations veiling the beauty of the land which it scars. Now it’s noon and the scuffs on my shoes remind me of you My mind is racing while Zoloft takes my sadness and transmutes it into emptiness; I’m currently still trying to ascertain which of them is worse.
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Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 9:30 PM UTC
Anti-Depressants
I accept and digest, The changes being fed. A necessary medication, Essential to the operation. Sequential, But not complete. Heard skipping on repeat. Temptation lingers slowly, Beneath the darkness, The mask. Sheathing, Veiling, Protecting fragile skin. Because the pain that truly ruptures us, Ignites from within. In sin, In harmony, In truth. Cast upon the world at large, Stand alone. It’s you.
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Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 6:09 PM UTC
Spoon.
Spellbinding sparkling queues of pearly faces Seethe in a gemstone sea of lips and beaks. Veiling night, my Nirvana, leads us places Fraught with clandestine lies and feathered peaks. The hidden eyes reflect the burning light Rampant within the painful lifelong dance And swivel southward, scorched with silent fright; Parades of fiends swing by at ev'ry glance. Burn the voiceless witches! Condemn the dead! Slash the hopeless visages to the night! Raccoons, exposing drooling mouths unfed-- Charming music conceals their true delight. I, the regisseur, perform my role Then fade behind the mask that chokes my soul.
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Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 12:53 PM UTC
Masquerade
Inside me, unfurling currents adrift in confusion; uprooted and unsure. Silent leanings Undeclared, without reason, Unstable and yet seeking balance, go tilting towards secret places that lie tender and unexplored. So softly stroking the bowed back of my subconscious, a lover's caress of the mind. The slow hand of thought flowing across the dark curtain of doubt. Veiling, with sly intent, obscure fears. Spreading delicate tendrils of uncertainty. I am silent.
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Aug 21, 2010
Aug 21, 2010 at 8:32 AM UTC
UnSaid
117 In rags mysterious as these The shining Courtiers go— Veiling the purple, and the plumes— Veiling the ermine so. Smiling, as they request an alms— At some imposing door! Smiling when we walk barefoot Upon their golden floor!
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2.1k
In rags mysterious as these
Coyote’s mournful howl echoed in the new moon’s enchanting sultry ether; breathing the living harmony of the wilderness rhythm He seemed to sense a soul reincarnation       within a pervasive spirit light       an oft misunderstood       common thread shared       this hallowed land’s night An uncommon Zen stirring from within,               stifling apathy .., . . . of rumble deep beneath       a dormant volcano reawakening ;       that which lies undiscovered       just before the ruptured moment ..,       liberation of release ―       dust and ashes taking flight Through open window              insomnia churns                           fifty shades of blue ..,       cast in shadowed hues of broken silence Coyote stirred the stillness       with a hauntingly familiar cry       reading the ridge-top echoes       like the book of my mind " YIP YIP   A ―W O O H !!! " . . . the somber plea For it is in these final hours chosen chore       the recurring torn       these chains and things Coyote was going there ―       to stand these watermark crossroads       this hour of need Accepting brother has always been lonely       sometimes anything       means something - - and so it goes .., Coyote communes in pulse       from ancient realms       this sacred blood ..,                 Om          the lost chord       wounded healers , . . . one mutual spirit       runs marrow deep       where dogs run free The moan of doves whisper to the impending dawn . . . always known these days       too soon do come and gone What once was a life well lived ,       s l o w l y     e v a n e s c i n g       like the summer river’s flow some say ..." you never miss the water       'til the well runs dry " . . . regrets a waste of time - - Rumination, a loathsome silent reverie       a taunting unsolved koan       an unplanned oxymoron ,         beget of a deafening silence . . . dust sleeps with indifference       veiling a beautiful handmade       unstrung guitar       muted - - abandoned,       tone poems, unsung and so "re-begins" the task ...       come what may rise up       into the dark star's light ... Coyote was going there - -       a dawning metamorphosis       under another nebulous sky . . . refreshed by Luna's potent alchemy bestrewn       in her spellbinding lambent moonlight elixir of life ... harlon rivers  ... 5. 21. 2015
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Oct 20, 2017
Oct 20, 2017 at 11:21 AM UTC
Coyote was going there
Coyote’s mournful howl echoed in the new moon’s enchanting sultry ether; breathing the living harmony of the wilderness rhythm He seemed to sense a soul reincarnation       within a pervasive spirit light       an oft misunderstood       common thread shared       this hallowed land’s night An uncommon Zen stirring from within,               stifling apathy .., . . . of rumble deep beneath       a dormant volcano reawakening ;       that which lies undiscovered       just before the ruptured moment ..,       liberation of release ―       dust and ashes taking flight Through open window              insomnia churns                           fifty shades of blue ..,       cast in shadowed hues of broken silence Coyote stirred the stillness       with a hauntingly familiar cry       reading the ridge-top echoes       like the book of my mind " YIP YIP   A ―W O O H !!! " . . . the somber plea For it is in these final hours chosen chore       the recurring torn       these chains and things Coyote was going there ―       to stand these watermark crossroads       this hour of need Accepting brother has always been lonely       sometimes anything       means something - - and so it goes .., Coyote communes in pulse       from ancient realms       this sacred blood ..,                 Om          the lost chord       wounded healers , . . . one mutual spirit       runs marrow deep       where dogs run free The moan of doves whisper to the impending dawn . . . always known these days       too soon do come and gone What once was a life well lived ,       s l o w l y     e v a n e s c i n g       like the summer river’s flow some say ..." you never miss the water       'til the well runs dry " . . . regrets a waste of time - - Rumination, a loathsome silent reverie       a taunting unsolved koan       an unplanned oxymoron ,         beget of a deafening silence . . . dust sleeps with indifference       veiling a beautiful handmade       unstrung guitar       muted - - abandoned,       tone poems, unsung and so "re-begins" the task ...       come what may rise up       into the dark star's light ... Coyote was going there - -       a dawning metamorphosis       under another nebulous sky . . . refreshed by Luna's potent alchemy bestrewn       in her spellbinding lambent moonlight elixir of life ... harlon rivers  ... 5. 21. 2015
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70
How far can we fall from the edge of a whisper suspended above molten desires dangling from a single breath escaping through fragile fingers pressed against a reflection of lips piercing the swollen silence in words that belong to you I am paused in patient syllables, a hum on the tip of your tongue searing the wings of uncaged secrets spilled from your eyes upon my skin sliding in the hush of immaculate worship, in this ritual of discovery an unyielding hunger, your hands unravel passages confessed in intimate testaments, stained in your fingerprints, translating the map of my body in minutes that pass too soon. Cradle my thighs in an estrus of dreams, bathe my release in the burning hours, drenched in the silk of lilac orchids soft petals from your eyes, leave a trail from flesh to soul for lips to taste the jasmine-laced crave softly veiling the naked lust caged behind these sapphire windows gazing into the depths of your reign, I am stranded in exile awaiting the guidance of moonlight translated in the stroke of your fingertips that brand my flesh yours And, in that place, Ours.. I reveal every sacred secret, exposed and shivering beneath your body ascending upon the ****** truth of me, beneath these sheets of midnight silk, tangled in translucent urgencies unfolding into a delicate intimacy that preludes this savage awakening so restless to adorn your primal sting in a deluge of my body to your parchment, scribe me spent in the ink of your resonant whispers how far can we fall....from the edge
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Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 4:11 PM UTC
The Edge:
How far can we fall from the edge of a whisper suspended above molten desires dangling from a single breath escaping through fragile fingers pressed against a reflection of lips piercing the swollen silence in words that belong to you I am paused in patient syllables, a hum on the tip of your tongue searing the wings of uncaged secrets spilled from your eyes upon my skin sliding in the hush of immaculate worship, in this ritual of discovery an unyielding hunger, your hands unravel passages confessed in intimate testaments, stained in your fingerprints, translating the map of my body in minutes that pass too soon. Cradle my thighs in an estrus of dreams, bathe my release in the burning hours, drenched in the silk of lilac orchids soft petals from your eyes, leave a trail from flesh to soul for lips to taste the jasmine-laced crave softly veiling the naked lust caged behind these sapphire windows gazing into the depths of your reign, I am stranded in exile awaiting the guidance of moonlight translated in the stroke of your fingertips that brand my flesh yours And, in that place, Ours.. I reveal every sacred secret, exposed and shivering beneath your body ascending upon the ****** truth of me, beneath these sheets of midnight silk, tangled in translucent urgencies unfolding into a delicate intimacy that preludes this savage awakening so restless to adorn your primal sting in a deluge of my body to your parchment, scribe me spent in the ink of your resonant whispers how far can we fall....from the edge
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48
I stand on the shore, my feet sinking in the sands, My hair tousled wild in winds hustling hands, Covering my face, veiling my eyes, Distantly, I hear the seagulls, their yearning cries. I grip firmer and hold myself tight, In dusk's diminishing, dwindling twilight. I watch the waves lunge at me - Overwhelming, menacingly. But as they race to the shore, reaching my feet They drench me, turn back and then recede. I see another wave, I yearn to move a step behind. Fear and uncertainty fill my troubled mind. But I still stand, stand my ground, Unmindful of the sounds, Of the winds and the waves, In a trance, lost, nature's slave. I nearly fall, my balance lost, Taken by surprise, by waves tossed. But I still stand, stand with unsteady feet, Where the land and waters meet. I, on the seashore, a speck, besides a sea so vast - I know that each wave will rest and it too shall pass.
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Jun 18, 2017
Jun 18, 2017 at 12:38 PM UTC
This too shall pass
I drove dad’s Chevy for the first time one morning In a storm. His old, blue, dented, beat-up, ninety-seven Chevy, Worn tires tractionless on wet asphalt, Raindrops veiling the windshield like the comforter That keeps me warm and safe during the nights I Spend at home, thick and grey with a glint of silver, and Pintucked stitching littering the middle. The lines on the road, like the seams of the comforter, Break evenly and cleanly, stretch on forever. My knuckles, like little snow-capped mountains, Gripped the steering wheel as I did the covers during a nightmare. Dad, on the other hand, Was as calm as the breeze curling around the trees on Any day but today; Relaxed as if the forecast were fine as the Silk of the duvet.
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Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 8:02 PM UTC
Driving in the Rain
All yesterday it poured, and all night long I could not sleep; the rain unceasing beat Upon the shingled roof like a weird song, Upon the grass like running children's feet. And down the mountains by the dark cloud kissed, Like a strange shape in filmy veiling dressed, Slid slowly, silently, the wraith-like mist, And nestled soft against the earth's wet breast. But lo, there was a miracle at dawn! The still air stirred at touch of the faint breeze, The sun a sheet of gold bequeathed the lawn, The songsters twittered in the rustling trees. And all things were transfigured in the day, But me whom radiant beauty could not move; For you, more wonderful, were far away, And I was blind with hunger for your love.
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1.9k
Summer Morn in New Hampshire
I'm hurt I'm hurt I'm hurt I'm hurt Because I just realized You were hurt By someone that didn't deserve you By someone that didn't respect you By someone that didn't see your beauty By someone that didn't appreciate you All your grandeur, he didn't see And that was your cue I'm hurt because When you were hurt The only way you saw healing Was by masking your hurt Not caring who you gave yourself to... What you gave of yourself To all that fitted the shoe So you stacked them up In the hideous name of "not catching feelings" You let them do as they wish Touch you as they saw fit I'm not saying there is one without blemish But how can this pass without anguish When one is truly supposed to love you To see a queen live like a peasant. And not cry to sleep in anguish, When they're in awe of the queen within. So many have grappled On this emerald That you became numb. Can you even feel that? My warm hand on your heart. You say it was about keeping Her happy How true is that? How happy was Kylie? How long did you keep her happy for? How long did your satisfaction last for? He dug a hole You tried to fill it with sinking sand Now whoever dares to tread Is actually walking on a thin thread Slowly slipping Into the hole you didn't make whole You sing "men are trash" As if they are the ones you didn't give Kylie to. I'm sorry if this is coming off too harsh Because I want to love Kylie too. But you gave her away Turned a blind eye Put conviction in your reason, Camouflaged the tears, Like putting sunglasses on blind eyes. You sing "men are trash" "Men ain't **** Yes, we make the lyrics But sometimes women play the instruments And this, some horrific genre That we play on social media... And parties That we enjoy With a little bit of intoxication We enjoy the band play With a few likes and DMs We enjoy the band play You sing "men are trash", You tell me I'm trash. When all I'm here for is to love you, To truly love you of a few. Not for a motel night's crash But for a home. Not for a bottle and some musical trash But for some Shiraz, soulful indie music and romantic dancing in the dark. Not to take advantage of Kylie But to love her too. You tried to heal But you didn't. And I see your beauty I appreciate you I respect you... I see how special you are How magnificent your mind and soul are. Your glimmering smile Your astronomical eyes All that grandeur, I see it. I relish it. I'm hurt Because you're still hurt. I feel like I'm sinking And you're watching me Like it's fine because this is the farthest anyone has come in this sinking sand I want to love you. I'm trying to love you. But the hurt you let define you. Is now veiling what I harbour for you I'm hurt Because I want you to stop hurting. And to help you I must help myself... So that I can lift this veil. For together we can take control of the helm; Enabling what is meant to be, Be.
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Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 10:44 AM UTC
'Up'lift the veil
I'm hurt I'm hurt I'm hurt I'm hurt Because I just realized You were hurt By someone that didn't deserve you By someone that didn't respect you By someone that didn't see your beauty By someone that didn't appreciate you All your grandeur, he didn't see And that was your cue I'm hurt because When you were hurt The only way you saw healing Was by masking your hurt Not caring who you gave yourself to... What you gave of yourself To all that fitted the shoe So you stacked them up In the hideous name of "not catching feelings" You let them do as they wish Touch you as they saw fit I'm not saying there is one without blemish But how can this pass without anguish When one is truly supposed to love you To see a queen live like a peasant. And not cry to sleep in anguish, When they're in awe of the queen within. So many have grappled On this emerald That you became numb. Can you even feel that? My warm hand on your heart. You say it was about keeping Her happy How true is that? How happy was Kylie? How long did you keep her happy for? How long did your satisfaction last for? He dug a hole You tried to fill it with sinking sand Now whoever dares to tread Is actually walking on a thin thread Slowly slipping Into the hole you didn't make whole You sing "men are trash" As if they are the ones you didn't give Kylie to. I'm sorry if this is coming off too harsh Because I want to love Kylie too. But you gave her away Turned a blind eye Put conviction in your reason, Camouflaged the tears, Like putting sunglasses on blind eyes. You sing "men are trash" "Men ain't **** Yes, we make the lyrics But sometimes women play the instruments And this, some horrific genre That we play on social media... And parties That we enjoy With a little bit of intoxication We enjoy the band play With a few likes and DMs We enjoy the band play You sing "men are trash", You tell me I'm trash. When all I'm here for is to love you, To truly love you of a few. Not for a motel night's crash But for a home. Not for a bottle and some musical trash But for some Shiraz, soulful indie music and romantic dancing in the dark. Not to take advantage of Kylie But to love her too. You tried to heal But you didn't. And I see your beauty I appreciate you I respect you... I see how special you are How magnificent your mind and soul are. Your glimmering smile Your astronomical eyes All that grandeur, I see it. I relish it. I'm hurt Because you're still hurt. I feel like I'm sinking And you're watching me Like it's fine because this is the farthest anyone has come in this sinking sand I want to love you. I'm trying to love you. But the hurt you let define you. Is now veiling what I harbour for you I'm hurt Because I want you to stop hurting. And to help you I must help myself... So that I can lift this veil. For together we can take control of the helm; Enabling what is meant to be, Be.
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105
Church bells ring of voices silenced a darkened Moon is hanging low crickets stop to hear the empty as loving waters overflow As angels call in voices singing notify my heart goodbye as deafened ears are opened up no more tears are left to cry Dying leaves, a crimson carpet indigo ink at levied banks waters flood my aching heartbeat raising hands to you in thanks Cloaking eyes, I'm in the shadows petitioning  you another dance whispering the coming reaper if only I could have a chance Softly come draped in darkness ebony casts a ghostly glow lovely bones in alabaster putting on a secret show Taking off the heavy waiting holding down my paper heart a poets voice cannot be silenced by ticking hands you pushed apart Silver tears they fall in quiet in rivers taken right or wrong releasing me & painful weighting and sing me as I come along Violins they speak so mellow calling me as I go home morning comes a glowing ember left for you an Earthly loam As the leaves outside are falling and thickened air bids me farewell whispering of my departure & secrets I may never tell although in this... you mustn't dwell Waving you off in slow motion blinking lashes bid adieu darkened cloakroom, veiling... hiding memories of loving you the only love I really wanted the one I never... really knew. Cherie Nolan © 2016
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Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 12:36 PM UTC
"Lovely Alabaster Bones"
it is high noon and white sunlight blazes the sky the air becoming a wall of heat it is a miracle anything survives at the bottom of the sky, long blades of grass climb upwards rustling with movement veiling all life in shadows mother cat is promenading striding with babies in her belly they push against their mother her stomach expanding gently like a rock somewhere beneath the canopy a shifty dragon lies his snarling tongue is sniffing for something alive slowly crawling towards a dent in the grass a newly born litter of kittens their mother still wandering for shade their life snuffed out before they’ve opened their eyes do they feel the sun kiss their sleeping heads goodnight?
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Jul 19, 2022
Jul 19, 2022 at 11:14 PM UTC
The Stillness of Noon
Oh how I tire of the games that are played. The useless lies veiling truth. In shrouds of weakness. How the fear overcomes reason. Foolish as they can be. We allow their fantasy to remain. Standing our ground. Holding strong to what we know. Waiting with patience and persistence. As we always have since the beginning. Maybe once they open the blind eyes. To the reality presented before them. They'll see how to mature and evolve. Into a superior being. Only then will they learn true happiness.
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Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 8:46 PM UTC
19.
Rhythmic Tearing Cow on grass Settling rooks Cross sky All around Sound playing Scent On wind Descending Sun Gold leafing The horizon Obscuration Veiling arc And furrow Crop And shadow Poplar lined Fields below Quiet here Above A moment Passes Contrast sharpens Trees recede Into darkness Sun bleeds Into Earth
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Apr 18, 2021
Apr 18, 2021 at 7:18 AM UTC
Wittenham Obscuration