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"vinci" poems
SEASHELLS Seashells Humble shells of the sea Each seems to be still alive and staring at me In its matchless symmetry- Like the wondrous beauty of a painting A tender poem written with poignancy Not of life’s sorrows but joys For celebration –each is like a happy Mozartian symphony Such perfection in a tiny manifestation Natura in minimis maxima- The envy of Michelangelo or Da Vinci Seashells—nature’s glorious gifts by far. Seashells Always remind me of happy childhood days Lucky finds—spotted often in half -buried golden sand Proudly displayed in a jar---I won every classmate’s praise. Seashells Tell of the sea’s unknown stories Events that had stretched through millions of centuries When you spot one on the shore, readily Pick it up as a treasure----contemplate upon its profound mystery.
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Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 7:35 PM UTC
SEASHELLS
Led down from the tower Head high and hands bound Blindfold declined against the wall Black square pinned to his heart Eyes afire and shining proud He sang... He sang of Caruso, Townes Van Zandt Pavarotti, Bocelli, Mercury, Carreras, he sang of Antoine, Of Sinatra, Lennon, Morrison, Redding He sang and songbirds paused in flight He sang like them all He sang a song of himself Of leaves of grass, of second comings Of Byron, and Bharti, and Cummings He sang of Neruda, and Plath, Tagore Dickinson, Kamala Das and Naidu Oh, he sang of them all He sang of art and beauty Of Mona Lisa and starry nights Girls in green dresses and pearls He sang of Van Gogh, of Picasso Of Rembrandt, da Vinci He sang of Michelangelo He sang of sadness, pain He sang of My Lai, Sand Creek Of Guernica and Krystallnacht He cried and sang of Wounded Knee Of Katyn Forest, Sabra and Shatila Oh, he wept as he sang He sang of history and wonders He sang of Olduvai and pyramids Machu Picchu, Tikal, and Angkor Wat He sang of a great wall, the Taj Mahal Stonehenge, Easter Isle, Mesa Verde His song took us to them all He sang of courage A song of Bunker Hill, Gettysburg Of the Alamo, Normandy, Stalingrad Of Lincoln, Guevara and Dr. King He sang of Bolivar, Bhutto, Ghandi He shamed us with their song He sang his song... As women sighed and peasants cried He  sang until the rifles fired, he died Songbirds fell from the sky Soldiers broke their guns on stones And marched into the deep blue sea. r ~ 4/12/14
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Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 7:05 PM UTC
Song
Led down from the tower Head high and hands bound Blindfold declined against the wall Black square pinned to his heart Eyes afire and shining proud He sang... He sang of Caruso, Townes Van Zandt Pavarotti, Bocelli, Mercury, Carreras, he sang of Antoine, Of Sinatra, Lennon, Morrison, Redding He sang and songbirds paused in flight He sang like them all He sang a song of himself Of leaves of grass, of second comings Of Byron, and Bharti, and Cummings He sang of Neruda, and Plath, Tagore Dickinson, Kamala Das and Naidu Oh, he sang of them all He sang of art and beauty Of Mona Lisa and starry nights Girls in green dresses and pearls He sang of Van Gogh, of Picasso Of Rembrandt, da Vinci He sang of Michelangelo He sang of sadness, pain He sang of My Lai, Sand Creek Of Guernica and Krystallnacht He cried and sang of Wounded Knee Of Katyn Forest, Sabra and Shatila Oh, he wept as he sang He sang of history and wonders He sang of Olduvai and pyramids Machu Picchu, Tikal, and Angkor Wat He sang of a great wall, the Taj Mahal Stonehenge, Easter Isle, Mesa Verde His song took us to them all He sang of courage A song of Bunker Hill, Gettysburg Of the Alamo, Normandy, Stalingrad Of Lincoln, Guevara and Dr. King He sang of Bolivar, Bhutto, Ghandi He shamed us with their song He sang his song... As women sighed and peasants cried He  sang until the rifles fired, he died Songbirds fell from the sky Soldiers broke their guns on stones And marched into the deep blue sea. r ~ 4/12/14
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49
Fare thee well by islets of time, Beauteous blooms of fragrance; of thyme. Gliding symphonies beckons thine eye, Gentle minds float toward sky high. O cues sung by the siren, allure! Once, fusion of reason borne pillar. Twice ponder, may our paths entwine, Thrice to act, unlike the tranquil Seine. Like angelic enigmas par Euler, Soar upon the painted auric frontier. Air fresh: an ebullient morning dew, Wisdom: moisture for the thirsty few. By spring fountain, if thou art inclined, Bright sparrow among the bovine herd. Lo, argent quarry of dust- liquid guile, Behold, product beyond thunder- gale. Scents of lavender assail thy sleep, Euphoric dreams, we welcome with glee! Sleepy horizons, a glorious dawn, Morning filled with a trillion suns. Some time, some day: travel the stars, Mortal shackles unchain my awful maw. Pupil of Aristotle, Darwin, and Vinci, There lies truth; a transient hierarchy...
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Aug 28, 2010
Aug 28, 2010 at 5:18 AM UTC
Cosmic Melancholia
The complexity of coupling is an exponential increase. No matter how perturbed life may be, we strive to linearize it, thank you Laplace. You transform us. It is integral to simplify life. Like Da Vinci, Like Thoreau: “Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication” “Our life is frittered away by detail…simplify, simplify” Let us not differentiate between the good or the bad                          the high or the low. Life is too brief to quantify, qualify, and compare it to others. It is yours alone. Embrace the change over time.
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Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 1:01 PM UTC
Mathematical Life
Your true beauty is seen when I look into your eyes Beauty that is seen even by the blind Beauty that doesn't take much effort for you to show Beauty that is reflected from deep within your soul Beauty that can trigger hopes for a mental connection Beauty that is absolute coincidental perfection Beauty that could make any goddess jealous Beauty that could make any mortal overzealous Beauty like the first flower of the year in full bloom Beauty that captures the focus of a full room Beauty that somehow beats all of the odds Your beauty is a true work of art from our God True beauty is the repetition of flawless excellence not only in the physical sense but more of a soul sense and I ask myself how is shawty so bad yet she gives my soul a cleanse....she possesses the type of beauty to make any ***** want to cherish her the same way the he should cherish his mother equipped with the beauty to make him only have eyes for her & blind to any other. Another *** could have a bank account full of money yet he wouldn't pay mind to any other. Another shorty could be the only one in a room with a watch and he still wouldn't give her the time of day but...shit they say beauty is in the eyes of the beholder and behold-- it is her and her beauty is a work of art like a painting by van gogh or da vinci and she holds the amount beauty to make a ***** say **** I hope she's into me & don't mean to offend you mona lisa but what man wouldn't want to get into ya inside of you to glide on you ride and collide into you But personally I'd rather make you *** mentally that's when feelings are true but in a world full of feelings that most of us seem to hide it's hard to reveal your inner beauty when you know it wont be appreciated and I know you never know what its like to be appreciated but here I am sitting in the corner of the classroom watching you write notes about a subject that I cant even focus on because your beauty completely captivates my mind body and spirit.
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Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 6:09 PM UTC
Wow
Your true beauty is seen when I look into your eyes Beauty that is seen even by the blind Beauty that doesn't take much effort for you to show Beauty that is reflected from deep within your soul Beauty that can trigger hopes for a mental connection Beauty that is absolute coincidental perfection Beauty that could make any goddess jealous Beauty that could make any mortal overzealous Beauty like the first flower of the year in full bloom Beauty that captures the focus of a full room Beauty that somehow beats all of the odds Your beauty is a true work of art from our God True beauty is the repetition of flawless excellence not only in the physical sense but more of a soul sense and I ask myself how is shawty so bad yet she gives my soul a cleanse....she possesses the type of beauty to make any ***** want to cherish her the same way the he should cherish his mother equipped with the beauty to make him only have eyes for her & blind to any other. Another *** could have a bank account full of money yet he wouldn't pay mind to any other. Another shorty could be the only one in a room with a watch and he still wouldn't give her the time of day but...shit they say beauty is in the eyes of the beholder and behold-- it is her and her beauty is a work of art like a painting by van gogh or da vinci and she holds the amount beauty to make a ***** say **** I hope she's into me & don't mean to offend you mona lisa but what man wouldn't want to get into ya inside of you to glide on you ride and collide into you But personally I'd rather make you *** mentally that's when feelings are true but in a world full of feelings that most of us seem to hide it's hard to reveal your inner beauty when you know it wont be appreciated and I know you never know what its like to be appreciated but here I am sitting in the corner of the classroom watching you write notes about a subject that I cant even focus on because your beauty completely captivates my mind body and spirit.
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29
Library - It is a world full of books All are interested, whether they are engineers, peons or cooks Books of all genre you will find It never fails to attract one's mind But please remember the Golden Rule Please be silent; it isn't a sin Never be violent or else you'll disgrace your kith and kin You may even make the librarian your friend And ***** will provide you with books of the latest trend Harry Potter, The Godfather and The Da Vinci Code Not that keen? Well you could always try The Princess and the Toad Books are for everyone; age doesn't matter Idiot box or reading? I'd rather choose the latter Whether you want science or fiction The Library is a world of addiction Once you pick up a book you will get glued You'll shout yourself hoarse if anyone dares to intrude You'll be reading it in class, the toilet or the bus And when the teacher confiscates it you'll create a big fuss Oh, Miss please! Just one more page! It's the ****** part between the pirate and the sage We should thank Gutenberg for inventing the press and bestowing upon us this boon Else we'd all still be stuck watching cartoon!
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Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 11:41 AM UTC
Library
A mystery to solve in a famous frame Smiling from canvas a story to tell Oh lady of the portrait oh lady of fame The painter captured your face so well Those who study art ponder and ruminate The enigmatic pose that doth beguile No brush strokes convey your mind state All angels inspected of daubed smile Yet the secret stays ever concealed Baffling them all lady you assuredly do Nothing of the puzzle is revealed So well hidden and never in view Leonardo da Vinci yielded not a clue When he masterfully conceived of you
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Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 7:16 AM UTC
Mona Lisa (Sonnet Poem)
Mona Lisa, of Louvre, in simplest words, an angelic, of beauty. Her enigmatic smiles, so mystical, like bewitching, yet heavenly as I and you, felt her, so alive, left a mystery of, unrevealed, Da Vinci's Perfections.
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Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 1:36 PM UTC
La Gioconda (The Enchantress)
lines, the curves of your neck, your eyelashes that flutter. color, the brown in your eyes, the barely there pink of your chapped lips. texture, the bumps on your cheeks, the smoothness of your hands. space, the width of your shoulders, the space between your eyebrows. shape, the way your shadow looks as the spotlight's on you. van gogh, da vinci, munch, and michelangelo, they'd all be ashamed, for they could never make art in the form of you.
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Nov 28, 2016
Nov 28, 2016 at 1:13 AM UTC
elements of art
Who on Earth were these people From the past, who made sense Of a world without iPods, iPads or plumbing? What’s up with those towering minds of yesteryear? From where did they come and how come? Goethe standing so tall Voltaire you tower! And bend over Beethoven, I can’t reach your low five. What grant of Gods favor gave them sight? Awesome mighty minds of the past. Descartes, I think so you are, So smart that I think I am not. Galileo you saw heaven before I had eyes. Einstein, Da Vinci, Archimedes You and your kind will all live forever, Men will stand upon your shoulders And then die.
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Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 10:00 PM UTC
Crude Tribute to Intellect
Two cultures worlds apart some love science and others art we're told they'll never jell though Da Vinci drew quite well
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Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 6:11 AM UTC
Two Cultures
As I let my mind wander into time, and release these binds that have me confined, I began to feel a great energy, like the sun had been compressed and put into me, and as time tic tocs and unwinds into its trail of infinity. I realize a trinity mind body soul, they burn as a whole, for the mightiest of goals. and as time unwinds it'll leave you behind. unless you get your spot in, a line of legacys never to be forgotten Confucius, Isaac Newton, Albert Einstein, Martin Luther King Jr, George Washington, Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara, Nelson Mendala, Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi, Steve Jobs, Stephen Hawkins, Leonardo Da Vinci, Wolfgang Amedeus Mozart, nikola tesla, Wael Ghonim, Jimi Hendrix, Joseph Stiglitz, Reed Hastings, François Rabelais, Archimedes, Sigmund Frued, Charles Darwin, Aryabhata, Bob Marley, Garrett Morgan, George Washington Carver, Aristotle, John Locke, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Plato, Galileo Galilei...and many many more... Stand for something. Think outside the box. Evolve and express yourself. Make a difference  #STEM #LegacyToIfinity
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Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 5:31 PM UTC
Thoughts of a Legacy
Crafted like a diamond with the hands of the greats Van Gough, Da Vinci put together like Cubism with the vision of Picasso A mind like Shakespeare, Dickens Intelligent like Artificial Intelligence Envisioned by God A perfect being and made into the best, the most perfect person Made by perfection into perfection
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May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 2:37 PM UTC
Made perfect
how poor has the world become when to feel, you have to bash someone no matter how odd they are lead my mind to great people albert einstein my favourite dyslexic how outrages was da vinci's ideas in his days the list goes on, but the world is still the same no matter the century all the technology and research has not changed the human nature to destroy what does not resemble "me" we like people because they reflect something of us we never really bother to look deeper at the unique person behind the image this is why i am condemned to loneliness till death years of isolation amidst people left my mirror slightly de-angled thus i cannot reflect what people want to see
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Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 1:37 PM UTC
condemned to loneliness till death
In just seven steps, you can find out: • How to make the best scrambled eggs [pepper ‘n love] • How to improve Scrabble scores [suffixes are our friends] • How to buy a house [budget before sealing the deal] • How to think like Leonardo Da Vinci [infectious curiosity and commitment] But despite the obscene amount of time, I spend scouring and scrolling, I can’t seem to stumble upon, The part of the Internet, That has the instructions, To keep your heart happy, While keeping my mind sane. Perhaps the sadness and insanity, Will be a welcome change, Allowing us to rediscover each other, In the most honest light.
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Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 11:51 PM UTC
How To Not Get Rid of You.
Da Vinci code or more mystique than that cracking the secret   only one that popped up lost the tongue!
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Jun 22, 2022
Jun 22, 2022 at 5:56 PM UTC
The Secret Code
Please remember to remember not to forget to remember We braced the chill and last shared voices in November When with reasons unknown you suddenly lost your temper And in faceless avenue unseen you put it all in a damper Please remember to remember not to forget to remember Two minds steep in years hoping to revive a dying ember Angling wisely for the solace of light in a peaceful chamber Rising for noble ideals each a worthy conscientious member Please remember to remember not to forget to remember I stoke flames and called out doves in days before September Not for glory or gain but in delight to fly a friend wishes tender Homage to a smile Lisa, like that made by da Vinci the painter Please remember to remember not to forget to remember Now its time to seek the Sun afar in the land of greens and timber soothing words that shows the grace and give of a friend keeper Remains aloof to a joyless onerous mind that will only get sadder Please remember to remember not to forget to remember Empty pride rousing clouded mind makes it fittingly simpler Strength and clarity to atone chimes only wit now't sinister A truer pilgrim seeks pardon and deftly shames attitudes insular To the wise what cost affinity in the garland of true harmony Copyright. LaurenceA31stJuly2018.Allrightsreserved.
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Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 6:51 AM UTC
Please Remember To Remember.....
Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication and that art is never finished only abandone--
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Sep 14, 2012
Sep 14, 2012 at 8:25 AM UTC
Da Vinci once told me...
Oh hopeless romantic Wouldst thou walk for thy love? Hopeless romantic, Thou may sayest that thou would live for her, Yet shalt one die? Oh hopeless romantic Wouldst thou kiss her in front of the crowd? To embarrassed art thou? Thy mouth speaks openly, Yet thy heart dont seem to loud! Romantic Wouldst thou dine with her in bath? Bubbles and wine glass As two da Vinci's of new days age!!! Romantic Thou art to a slave To moribund days as I!!! Romantic Get the beam out of thy eye For thou canst see clearly!!! Hopeless romantic Thou may buyeth her roses Yet does thou pick out its thorns? Canst handle truth? Hearts torn? Romantic, Wouldst thou give thy other half thy soul? For she is gold, And thou art aluminum!! Still dumbed! Canst thou see the queen up on high beside thou? Forgetful hopeless romantic!!
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Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 12:05 PM UTC
romantique désespéré a perdu sa touche (hopeless romantic has lost its touch) french tongue
Hubby, Our fractured laugh is irredeemable. It Is reinforcing the heroic microbes. to brainstorm some tiny schemes. with a lack of delicacy and tact to recur the same cynic nights of devastation, incorporate the sores into our throats; a full-time personification of tangible intrusion, directly to the full portrait of the Meningitis itself. Distracting the law of the incubation hours for all strains, overpowering the blood cower, and hovering over our jaded hoarse, sneering at our last appalling psyche-knot After this creative detention, I’m invoking another forever torpor inside of our hearts' beats to pose another irrevocable damage that would perpetuate a close depiction of da Vinci’s Last Supper masterpiece. Honey, Light yourself with a viral-bacterial whirlwind and sink into its bleakness beside my bewitching bind. I'm still loving you despite all my infections. amid the urge to enfold your tsunami and swallow its combination Fortunately, we have survived so many different tragedies together, as a full piece of plague above Utopia. - The Poetic Soul
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Jul 28, 2023
Jul 28, 2023 at 9:54 PM UTC
The viral-bacterial detention.
Collaboration Bundles and fibers Soul and science Defiance Da’ Vinci took my hands, Galileo my logic Aristotle and Plato my mind Gandhi and Theresa my heart Others the ability to dream The King Jr. compassion Jews the capability to forgive The oppressed the willingness to live Darwin took my curiosity Who handed it down to Einstein and Marie Curie Others take some, many take none But all the power of ambition To strive to become Human
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Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 9:46 PM UTC
Collaboration
╖    ╓ ╔╝    ╚╗ ╔═══════╝          ╚═══════╗ ║                *𝔯𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔐 ,𝔯𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔐             ║ ╔══╝       𝔢𝔰𝔞𝔢𝔩𝔭 𝔢𝔲𝔯𝔱 𝔩𝔲𝔬𝔰 𝔶𝔪 𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔗         ╚══╗ ║  𝔪𝔞 𝔡𝔫𝔞 𝔰𝔞𝔴 ℑ 𝔱𝔞𝔥𝔴 𝔫𝔞𝔥𝔱 𝔢𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔢𝔟 ℑ 𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔚    ║        ╚═╗      𝔢𝔟 𝔬𝔱 𝔱𝔫𝔞𝔢𝔪 ℑ 𝔬𝔥𝔴 𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔪 𝔡𝔫𝔞*       ╔═╝                                 ║                                                            ║                          ╚════════╗         ╔════════╝    ╚╗   ╔╝   ╜  ╙
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Jan 7, 2021
Jan 7, 2021 at 7:43 AM UTC
Hand of Da Vinci
~~ Those might have been told in any other way but you could not understand No, No this is not a spring song Not even a fairytale An exclusive secret, a pain which originates within a love, reverberates with the rebel song, within your known sky, wind Naturally has seen in dreams Rarely meets with the real Crops of thousand wishes, As the Vinci's Mona Lisa Truly forms in nature which has a vitreous luster As the Crystal of Sapphire blue where the beauty beyond Of the words mystery unveiled, yet the fascination of the Poe's uncovered poetry, As the fathomless depth of Mid Atlantic ridge, which goes a long way Tastes like the first kisses of love which is full of longing where whole life is covered with dissatisfaction,   within the prospect of ever known Like an old wine where levels of alcohol is too high After spreeing over the night, Still hanging in, Even after taking the morning black coffee ~~ @ Musfiq us shaleheen
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Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 1:35 PM UTC
Even after taking the morning black coffee
******* at tickling the ivories, at inducing the jet buttons to chortle, say, in a concerto ; but I do strum and flirt with those amazing royal, 88 unrepentant loyal keys for Jupiter and Saturn, for Mars and Neptune, making a blank bland tune for extraterrestrial beings for fun. On the cosmic moors the moon's whirling feet cease for my discordance. What a slurred entrance by F in D major! Only a novice--an amateur. I'm no magnificent pianist, O majestic Mercury. Summon the stars the search to lead for a supreme virtuoso, one of  no incongruent ingenuity like this dilettante--a pseudo music polymath, counsels Thebe. A Mozart, Beethoven, or Bach? Any of the greats scored above, as well as geniuses like David and Handel. Impressario fly! Flee thou away and go get a classic maven. Otherwise sleep there forever at Erebus, never dream of waking up in Eden. Circuitous world stops: strings break off at the Earth's axis-- the Sun's panels pause and darkness' movement begins its own obscure notes to improvise: apace demented melody is released,-- bathos of symphony: tinny wine of concord settles on the lees of discord. Asteroids hooting some ***** calls when into the grand chrysolite chamber-- in her tailor-made blistering gown-- strolls in the coruscating Venus in the sturdy arm of jaundiced Uranus, garbed in his glistening stomacher. Like a ball, all eyes are bouncing hither and thither, up and down, googling and ogling, once more at them leering, gaping at the irreplaceable paintings of da Vinci, Picasso, and Van Gogh cavorting  upon the weightless walls to the romantic performance of Strauss in the palace orchestral of Bacchus.
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May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 8:17 AM UTC
Planetary Concerto
******* at tickling the ivories, at inducing the jet buttons to chortle, say, in a concerto ; but I do strum and flirt with those amazing royal, 88 unrepentant loyal keys for Jupiter and Saturn, for Mars and Neptune, making a blank bland tune for extraterrestrial beings for fun. On the cosmic moors the moon's whirling feet cease for my discordance. What a slurred entrance by F in D major! Only a novice--an amateur. I'm no magnificent pianist, O majestic Mercury. Summon the stars the search to lead for a supreme virtuoso, one of  no incongruent ingenuity like this dilettante--a pseudo music polymath, counsels Thebe. A Mozart, Beethoven, or Bach? Any of the greats scored above, as well as geniuses like David and Handel. Impressario fly! Flee thou away and go get a classic maven. Otherwise sleep there forever at Erebus, never dream of waking up in Eden. Circuitous world stops: strings break off at the Earth's axis-- the Sun's panels pause and darkness' movement begins its own obscure notes to improvise: apace demented melody is released,-- bathos of symphony: tinny wine of concord settles on the lees of discord. Asteroids hooting some ***** calls when into the grand chrysolite chamber-- in her tailor-made blistering gown-- strolls in the coruscating Venus in the sturdy arm of jaundiced Uranus, garbed in his glistening stomacher. Like a ball, all eyes are bouncing hither and thither, up and down, googling and ogling, once more at them leering, gaping at the irreplaceable paintings of da Vinci, Picasso, and Van Gogh cavorting  upon the weightless walls to the romantic performance of Strauss in the palace orchestral of Bacchus.
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54
You offered me your body, I offered in return: A tuna fish sandwich, A nice piece of carnelian, Maybe a book or two about odd things like death by electrocution or Leonardo da Vinci or the history of the upright bass, Endless records, Enough jazz to paint the world blue, My mouth forming the shapes of notes, A breath from my own lungs, The scarf which was lovingly knit for me by my one remaining friend, Lipstick, bright red and smooth, Feathers from a hawk that I found by the road, Dried pink roses from a corsage, Two baby teeth in a container that once held film, Hair shorn with a dull kitchen knife, A collar of cracked burgundy leather, Sachets smelling faintly of lavender, A mirror which was cracked on my thirteenth birthday, One lace glove. Why did you leave?
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Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 9:19 AM UTC
A List of Alternatives to Love