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"verocity" poems
He said: “In the dark night of my soul I stayed with my darkness. When a pain struck voice Came to me, I did not chase My demons away. Thinking of all, the suffering I’ve endured I walked through the street of my past Solemnly, soberly, Witnessing all my experiences again. Before me, light reflected on the pavement – Iridescent fragments joined to form Pictures below my feet. Stories from my childhood played Like a movie on the ground, I’m the star of my own show, I’m powering through each scene With such verocity I leave nothing But ruins in my wake. I reach to pick up the fragments Of the life of a girl unhinged - To think my own mind had led me to this. I wipe the tears from my eyes, Then, I pass on. In the dark night of my soul I stay with my darkness, For it has so much to teach me And I learn, so little, if I flee. © Sia Jane
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Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 11:34 AM UTC
Ruins In My Wake
Vigorous venture Vessel Verocity Wampum Whimsy Waitapu Wahe
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Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 8:37 AM UTC
Lake's Echo
you read a saturday article, you gain insight into the void, and then you attempt a su doku... i couldn't finish of no. 8902 (difficult)... i attempted no. 8903 (fiendish) and lost the plot at square-to-linear interchange with the number 1... all the while not really concentrating on the puzzle, or trying to master the craft to a competitor's level of expertease... it became a game of trying to find the origin... summarised by the words: not here, not here, but here. the crux of no. 8903? only one 2 on the "palette". and two ones. i reached the point where a square of the 9 and a linear completion didn't correlate... exactly... a misplaced 1. so then i conceptualised: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 2, 3, 4, (3?) 5.... iocus numero similis prior cataracta; a case of parity... coordination e.g. (9, 9) (9) elsewhere... the dynamic soon shifted into (1, 2, 1) through to (2, 1, 2), then into (1, 2, 1, 2)... (2, 3, 2, 3), (3, 4, 3, 4), (4, 5, 4, 5), (5, 6, 5, 6), (6, 7, 6, 7), (7, 8, 7, 8), (8, 9, 8, 9); and that equals? the encompassing void of 0. ', ,' (or the collpasing effect) / implosion. just as much to distract me as an article about mayte garcia / the first wife of prince... vodka, ms. pepsi and the windowsill and the night... yesterday's antics: a decapitated daffodil a fiołek (violet) head... pinched rosemary and pinched mint... laid down on a kitchen counter... a cat... and "someone" talking about scents... 3 sharpened kitchen knives in the garden, on a stone that oozed off dust (as the knives were sharpened with such verocity)... and now today... more ms. pepsi with vladimir vod of the excess of thus stated opinion: ruling, unchallenged; because who the **** would take sober opinions, seriously?
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Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 8:33 PM UTC
reconceptualisation of su doku
you read a saturday article, you gain insight into the void, and then you attempt a su doku... i couldn't finish of no. 8902 (difficult)... i attempted no. 8903 (fiendish) and lost the plot at square-to-linear interchange with the number 1... all the while not really concentrating on the puzzle, or trying to master the craft to a competitor's level of expertease... it became a game of trying to find the origin... summarised by the words: not here, not here, but here. the crux of no. 8903? only one 2 on the "palette". and two ones. i reached the point where a square of the 9 and a linear completion didn't correlate... exactly... a misplaced 1. so then i conceptualised: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 2, 3, 4, (3?) 5.... iocus numero similis prior cataracta; a case of parity... coordination e.g. (9, 9) (9) elsewhere... the dynamic soon shifted into (1, 2, 1) through to (2, 1, 2), then into (1, 2, 1, 2)... (2, 3, 2, 3), (3, 4, 3, 4), (4, 5, 4, 5), (5, 6, 5, 6), (6, 7, 6, 7), (7, 8, 7, 8), (8, 9, 8, 9); and that equals? the encompassing void of 0. ', ,' (or the collpasing effect) / implosion. just as much to distract me as an article about mayte garcia / the first wife of prince... vodka, ms. pepsi and the windowsill and the night... yesterday's antics: a decapitated daffodil a fiołek (violet) head... pinched rosemary and pinched mint... laid down on a kitchen counter... a cat... and "someone" talking about scents... 3 sharpened kitchen knives in the garden, on a stone that oozed off dust (as the knives were sharpened with such verocity)... and now today... more ms. pepsi with vladimir vod of the excess of thus stated opinion: ruling, unchallenged; because who the **** would take sober opinions, seriously?
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I tried to work a nine to five But it felt like I was living a lie My soul craved more I couldn't ignore It was pounding At my door With viciousness And verocity I was vindicated And set free When I followed my heart And made the first steps Toward a new start I was scared and confused I had little direction but I knew What I had to do I dove into the dark depths And splattered the pages With pieces of me I hadn't been able to see That I kept in disguise Because society told me to What a pack of lies I've always been a writer I just hadn't found my voice But when you're destined to write You really don't have a choice Cause the world only makes sense to me When it's written in verse and poetry I can no longer pretend I don't see What is clearly my destiny
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Feb 21, 2019
Feb 21, 2019 at 8:57 AM UTC
Destiny