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"warmhearted" poems
I am warmhearted and icy cold, with a pretty face that's getting old. I am fragile yet tough as a man, struggle thru life with no real plan. I am petite and cuss like a trucker, slightly naive, but I'm no sucker. I am a sinner with a halo of gold, an open book with secrets untold. I am a hypocrite but always play fair, a bleeding heart and I don't care. I am a mother who acts like a child, crazy, impatient and easily riled. I am spontaneous and I am a bore, forever forgiving, I still keep score. I am unstable and wonderfully wise, a ****** deviant in sweet disguise. I am creative and self-destructive naturally skilled and unproductive. I am shy and I am outspoken with a heart of stone, easily broken. I am awkward and well refined, lost, insightful and a little love-blind. I am respected and I am addicted shamed by burdens, self inflicted. I am a perfectionist and I am a slob, unbiased and shallow, an inept snob. I am nocturnal, a creature of night, blissfully ignorant, typically right. I am cautious and I have no fear, a loser and quitter, still I persevere. I am brilliant and easily amused, over-zealous and under-enthused. I am impervious with wounds to heal, an occasional liar just keepin' it real. I am weird and lovely and mean- I am what I am.......100 Aileen.
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Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 3:50 PM UTC
I Am...
I gaze into the soul's windows And what do I see An abyss of muddy water But if I look closer I can see Specks of stolen sunlight Streaks of the purest gold only Prospectors can begin to imagine By just looking I can tell what a Gracious, warmhearted, good-natured Person you are That all the disingenuous individuals Fathom Just by looking
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Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 1:31 PM UTC
Moses
*Cast out entirely this time around. There's a beautiful world waiting, But it's easy to be blinded by what you think is beautiful in a beautiful world.* In the dark for so long. The retina I own captured false images Of what i once  believed in. So much effort stored in a mirage, lodged in doubtful recollections. I want no sympathy, I can only evolve through the chasing of symphonies. Villainous, aren't you? The conflict is the enemy. I'll do away with this blame game, You're just so awfully gifted at how you play. I was the warmhearted prey Fooled into what appears to be defeat, Due to stupidity. I saw what I wanted to see, And clearly my vision was wrong. (c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith (Originally written 10/31/10 Revised 9/27/14)
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Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 2:48 PM UTC
Illusion
Yes, I do believe in something. I believe in being warmhearted. I believe especially in being warmhearted in love, in ******* with a warm heart. I believe if men could **** with warm hearts, and the women take it warmheartedly, everything would come all right. It’s all this coldhearted ******* that is death and idiocy. - D.H. Lawrence, Lady Chatterley’s Lover
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Aug 2, 2013
Aug 2, 2013 at 9:29 AM UTC
D.H. Lawrence, Lady Chatterley’s Lover
Soothing, sensational, elegant as the harp, Semblance, integument, covering of the tarp, Ebullient, vivacious, precision of the mind, Vehement, appetent, keen & one of a kind, Perfervid, chocolate katydid, desirable & luscious taste, Delectable, ambrosial, palatable & consumed with haste, Sybaritic, voluptuous, enticing to the senses, Libidinous, hedonic, enriched untightened hinges, Efficacious, puissant, robust delight to the eye, Potent, consequential, immeasurable symbol of the sky, Pulchritudinous, gorgeous, magnificent as the autumn sun, Resplendent, vivid, lustrous as a diamond-lithographed gun, Sympathetic, affectionate, condoling soul of a angel, Altruistic, benignant, warmhearted with no mangle, Serenity, tranquility, composure of divine peace, Harmonious, amicable, placid as the slow moving creek...
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Jul 6, 2012
Jul 6, 2012 at 6:46 PM UTC
Jovial Thoughts, Genial Mind...
I want to be close to you like Mercury to see your full glow and brightness of your intimacy I see you like a Venus because of your unsurpassed beauty and your unfathomable, abysmal kind of love You are like the Earth where living with you is not a problem and with you it is always easy to breathe I see your ardent desires like a red Mars to fight a war to cover and protect me even sacrificing your own life You give a gigantic precious tenderness and enormously unselfish affections like a Jupiter You give me snowball rings like Saturn that gives remembrance to all the beautiful things that we had been in the atmosphere of treasured memories Your warmhearted axis that tilts on the rocky core of my life is like in a deep ocean of Uranus that clasps me with grasping arms You are like the depth the Neptune brings who takes me beyond the known to what's alive only in my wildest dreams. On a very far and infinite distance deep into the darkness like Pluto you are perfect to get lost with nothing matters but You and Me
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Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 5:53 AM UTC
My Universe
*Upon entrance into the realm of reality My first image basks in the bliss of your smile You knew that bearing two offspring was sheer destiny All the love that you bestowed was definitely worthwhile When I’m in pain, depression, or sorrow You welcome me in a warmhearted embrace Such care heals my soul for a better tomorrow Your unrelenting support propels me in the life race Your grace branches to lands beyond reckoning Your unique ability to serve others is a true virtue Your duties are far from easygoing You deserve much more than the credit accrued You fought valiantly when things turned gray You should have a nice rest on this Mother’s day*
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May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 9:52 AM UTC
Mother's Day-Sonnet #2
Mushrooms popping up everywhere moving pine-cones like unturned stones not even the weight of lapsing maple leaves can keep them down as they reach up for sun Four legged soul-mate friskily passes them by on her way to sparse apples the deer didn't find looking for a moment to feel sun's slithering balm where the mushrooms bask in a warmhearted calm
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Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 6:38 PM UTC
Where mushrooms bask
Don't be egoist Get back to me Don't think about others' thought Come back to me Like the coldest winter going to spring Or maybe the warmest spring going back to winter 🌨️🌤️
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Mar 28, 2021
Mar 28, 2021 at 2:56 PM UTC
Warmhearted egoist
unaffected elegance genuine kindness warmhearted affection infectious optimism female role model working for a better future wisely responsible naturally humorous simply lovable
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Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 6:26 PM UTC
michelle o.
soft seas of white unbearable to the warmhearted for crystal chalices are containers frozen and unfeeling to the bitterness numbed by this climate and all wounds that freeze over are lethal to **** in your heat and for each spring that passes i await my demise but the winter before keeps me intact i dare not walk in your summer for surely that would be my end so if you reach out to me, love do not be crestfallen when i do not respond for i poured my nature into your hollow and was ambushed by your vacancy i have been collapsed and discharged by your fears for they mimic my own and though i have cultivated my courage you are still held back at the precipice of your qualms to you i must seem manic for i believe in love i follow my heart though it may lead to dark edges but you, forlorn by your vigilance stagger in your struggle to remain conscious unaware that your wick has been cut loose and failed to ignite the once blazing sparks of your brilliance i pity your heat for it has no place to burn and soon, it too will wither into ash and be set upon a pedestal that will restrain you there in the glaciers that have become your keep
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Feb 14, 2013
Feb 14, 2013 at 2:53 AM UTC
from fire to ice
My coffee was cold. The coffee I watched drip by for what felt like hours. Wasting time on hot coffee that'll just be left out for the cold anyway. I loved the steam. Seeping down into my lungs. Brushing gently down my throat. Filling my insides with sweet ecstasy. Almost burning. Almost painful. Almost. Almost completely suffocating. The crisp edges of books. Spread across the room like a fallen army in the war of my mourning and sorrow. In the bitter ignorance of my charred heart. Not even able to apologize. Sweeping down into the abyss of this lonely one bedroom apartment. With only the ticking of the clock. Who has clocks anymore? To many bad memories. To many reminders of bad times. Times that are bad. Times that were bad. Times wasting. Time wasted. Even all of these winter blankets. White and paisley golden sheets. Lit curtains. Gentle pillows. Couldn't keep me warm. The insides were cold. Like a child lost in the park on a dark brisk winter night. Not cold because of the snow hovering above his knees. But because of the lost empty kiss from his warmhearted mother. Buried beneath blankets of ice. Empty chest. Swollen ******* The feeling of something or someone missing. The tocks missing from the ticks. The melody missing from the song. The sugar missing from the tea. The sunlight missing from the sun. The tears missing from my weeping. Balling up. Knees to chest. The doors unlocked. The windows left open. Pulling me under deeper and deeper into my sheets. The oven burning what's left over of our last meal. The parts that didn't end up on the ceiling and throughout the floor. Spreading hard suffocating stench into the vents. Let me burn. Where's my company? In the flames.
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Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 5:32 PM UTC
Dont bury me. Burn me.
My coffee was cold. The coffee I watched drip by for what felt like hours. Wasting time on hot coffee that'll just be left out for the cold anyway. I loved the steam. Seeping down into my lungs. Brushing gently down my throat. Filling my insides with sweet ecstasy. Almost burning. Almost painful. Almost. Almost completely suffocating. The crisp edges of books. Spread across the room like a fallen army in the war of my mourning and sorrow. In the bitter ignorance of my charred heart. Not even able to apologize. Sweeping down into the abyss of this lonely one bedroom apartment. With only the ticking of the clock. Who has clocks anymore? To many bad memories. To many reminders of bad times. Times that are bad. Times that were bad. Times wasting. Time wasted. Even all of these winter blankets. White and paisley golden sheets. Lit curtains. Gentle pillows. Couldn't keep me warm. The insides were cold. Like a child lost in the park on a dark brisk winter night. Not cold because of the snow hovering above his knees. But because of the lost empty kiss from his warmhearted mother. Buried beneath blankets of ice. Empty chest. Swollen ******* The feeling of something or someone missing. The tocks missing from the ticks. The melody missing from the song. The sugar missing from the tea. The sunlight missing from the sun. The tears missing from my weeping. Balling up. Knees to chest. The doors unlocked. The windows left open. Pulling me under deeper and deeper into my sheets. The oven burning what's left over of our last meal. The parts that didn't end up on the ceiling and throughout the floor. Spreading hard suffocating stench into the vents. Let me burn. Where's my company? In the flames.
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53
❝  ❞ To my own warmhearted and beautiful, Belle, I apologized for detaining you here in my palace. For I want to stop this bewitched life, alas! Please, come with me and let us dance With this love in relaxing harmony. Yet, in this Little Red Riding Hood, I'll protect you like your own Robin Hood. Instead of bringing you these lil cookies, I'll bring you flowers and kisses on your forehead. “ Lay down your hair, My Rapunzel! ” For I want to give you these alluring flowers–yellowbell. It's me your very own Flynn, I'm now blind yet still loving you, Darlin'. You're my Aurora who sleeps for a thousand years. I couldn't stop myself seeing your plump and kissable lips. I want to stop this curse from the darkness By giving you my first ever kiss.
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Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 2:36 AM UTC
You're My Fairytale
Our Masgouf The fish has wings, and she feels our pain as a sister. Yes, we are the fish’s brothers and any halo occurs in the clear night is a birthday of this brotherhood. Come here, and see the first cookbook; it had appeared with the seeds of this earth. It had slept in an ancient Sumerian tablet, which was shining as a morning sun. In the heart of (800) recipes in that Iraqi mud, you can see the smoke of our Masgouf and you may smell its exciting flavor. You may know that Masgouf had resided as a moon in our dreams, and we delightedly disappear in its perfume as the butterflies. Our Masgouf, as well as, the face of our river, is pure, but smoky, and I will be so happy if you can see its chants which dance as a fairy at its small bank. Because of this warmhearted brightness, you may like to sit under our smiley tent and musing our truthful Masgouf. The Dolma’s Master The small girls in our gardens knew nothing about the flowers or their breathtaking colors, but they are so efficient in making of magic Dolma. In the morning they meet a green dove, and listen to her chants. They are soft and pure exactly as our Dolma’s smiles. She teaches our girls the art of Dolma and the secret of grape’s leaves with a smooth voice and gentle hands. This Dolma’s master is so soft and deep, and she can color the girls’ hearts with the wedding dresses. My mother was a good Dolma’s student, so she had learned its chants expertly and wore her wedding dress early. The Kebab Glory The Iraqis can’t live without war or Kebab and can’t smell the morning breeze without their deep voices. I am an Iraqi man, and my soul was kneaded with Kebab’s Sumac. My dreams had immersed in the Kebab’s perfume and straggled in the desert of sad Sumac. Kebab, which we inherited from our Babylonian, can’t be transfigured without a soft lap, and any saying disagrees this is a hard illusion, but essentially you need the Iraqi sad smile to find the Kebab’s sublime glory.
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Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 10:23 AM UTC
MESOPOTAMIANS
Our Masgouf The fish has wings, and she feels our pain as a sister. Yes, we are the fish’s brothers and any halo occurs in the clear night is a birthday of this brotherhood. Come here, and see the first cookbook; it had appeared with the seeds of this earth. It had slept in an ancient Sumerian tablet, which was shining as a morning sun. In the heart of (800) recipes in that Iraqi mud, you can see the smoke of our Masgouf and you may smell its exciting flavor. You may know that Masgouf had resided as a moon in our dreams, and we delightedly disappear in its perfume as the butterflies. Our Masgouf, as well as, the face of our river, is pure, but smoky, and I will be so happy if you can see its chants which dance as a fairy at its small bank. Because of this warmhearted brightness, you may like to sit under our smiley tent and musing our truthful Masgouf. The Dolma’s Master The small girls in our gardens knew nothing about the flowers or their breathtaking colors, but they are so efficient in making of magic Dolma. In the morning they meet a green dove, and listen to her chants. They are soft and pure exactly as our Dolma’s smiles. She teaches our girls the art of Dolma and the secret of grape’s leaves with a smooth voice and gentle hands. This Dolma’s master is so soft and deep, and she can color the girls’ hearts with the wedding dresses. My mother was a good Dolma’s student, so she had learned its chants expertly and wore her wedding dress early. The Kebab Glory The Iraqis can’t live without war or Kebab and can’t smell the morning breeze without their deep voices. I am an Iraqi man, and my soul was kneaded with Kebab’s Sumac. My dreams had immersed in the Kebab’s perfume and straggled in the desert of sad Sumac. Kebab, which we inherited from our Babylonian, can’t be transfigured without a soft lap, and any saying disagrees this is a hard illusion, but essentially you need the Iraqi sad smile to find the Kebab’s sublime glory.
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6
Growing up I was told if you give a situation more thought and worry than it deserves that the doubt is always the answer; because your heart nor your gut would have assembled that doubt otherwise. from this realization a crucial lesson was thrown into my lap, if you think twice about loving, the love for you to give was never necessarily there to begin with. There was a time when I loved and lost- He was my one solid thought, he intruded my stream of consciousness and left it free of doubt He, this perfect undeniably warmhearted soul warms the 19 winters that are so compacted within me. whether he knows it or not. Until the sky is cast over and the sun rays pass through the atmosphere with ease my love for him will be sealed, awaiting for his curiosity to be restored. There was a time when I loved and lost, but realized that love had just lost her way.
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Jul 5, 2017
Jul 5, 2017 at 9:58 PM UTC
lessons we refuse to learn
to mike, my brother there was a man, I called you brother. good times, bad times...there won't be another. we shared a last name, house and secrets a gift from God and now with Jesus. a built-in relative i didn't choose. told me like it was; never wanted to see me lose. made me laugh, made me cry. asked me tough questions and not happy til he knew why. didn't all ways see eye to eye and that's what families do. can't imagine what life would've been like without you. positive, warmhearted, devout, strong-willed almost describes your worth. won't ever be replaced by anything on this earth. if God would bring you back again for one more hour or day, I'd express all my thoughts and have many things to say. I'll be looking up at the stars for you with a heart full of love you are now at peace forever safely home in heaven above. let the wind lift your spirit and take you away to the arms of the Savior to hold you this day. rest in peace.
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Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 2:22 AM UTC
to mike, my brother
The vast west creates winds Whirling me towards its wanderlust I appear on the desert, it was longing to happen eventually The heat beats down, I hear no sound All is nothing here To survive, one must make the right choices of need To succeed, one must be a white man dressed in greed I've been walking for 31 days, And I still haven't found what I was looking for Though I didn't know what I was looking for Yet the hunger grew stronger And I knew sooner than later It will be willing to eat me To survive Every entity for its own At dusk I felt a peculiar breeze It was energizing I followed the breeze It lead me to a man with a cigarette I heard rumors of a deadly smoke around these dooms But knew it was only a tale People don't like to hear themselves They only like attention "Follow me" he said Caught frozen in the sinking sand, I was trying to figure it out But I couldn't I wasn't left with much information And I had no direction before Other than the breeze that just left me Too far Like a pattern The man was gone too However, his cigarette smoke was dancing in front of me Luring me in to his path My feet sunk deeper into the sand As each step closer to the man "I will be there soon" I thought However I didn't know where I was going Nor how far it was My pulsating heart rushed me along With sweat dripping down almost drowning me "How curious, the sand doesn't feel like sand at all" It was warmhearted, hugging me, and slightly needy Rising up my legs with every step I took The quicker I ran, The quicker it rose "I must catch this man" Were the only words I could cry to a point Where it was the one thing dragging me on The smoke was still swirling along Laughing If only I knew how far ahead of me he was The sand had no mercy Nor patience My attempt of a sprint earlier slowed me down However, the soft sand's speed only grew, never fell As you can guess, it swallowed me And if you haven't guess that yet, You're next
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Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 3:05 PM UTC
A Leader Does Not Follow
The vast west creates winds Whirling me towards its wanderlust I appear on the desert, it was longing to happen eventually The heat beats down, I hear no sound All is nothing here To survive, one must make the right choices of need To succeed, one must be a white man dressed in greed I've been walking for 31 days, And I still haven't found what I was looking for Though I didn't know what I was looking for Yet the hunger grew stronger And I knew sooner than later It will be willing to eat me To survive Every entity for its own At dusk I felt a peculiar breeze It was energizing I followed the breeze It lead me to a man with a cigarette I heard rumors of a deadly smoke around these dooms But knew it was only a tale People don't like to hear themselves They only like attention "Follow me" he said Caught frozen in the sinking sand, I was trying to figure it out But I couldn't I wasn't left with much information And I had no direction before Other than the breeze that just left me Too far Like a pattern The man was gone too However, his cigarette smoke was dancing in front of me Luring me in to his path My feet sunk deeper into the sand As each step closer to the man "I will be there soon" I thought However I didn't know where I was going Nor how far it was My pulsating heart rushed me along With sweat dripping down almost drowning me "How curious, the sand doesn't feel like sand at all" It was warmhearted, hugging me, and slightly needy Rising up my legs with every step I took The quicker I ran, The quicker it rose "I must catch this man" Were the only words I could cry to a point Where it was the one thing dragging me on The smoke was still swirling along Laughing If only I knew how far ahead of me he was The sand had no mercy Nor patience My attempt of a sprint earlier slowed me down However, the soft sand's speed only grew, never fell As you can guess, it swallowed me And if you haven't guess that yet, You're next
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61
I've been called too intense from people who could not grasp the significance of my feelings. I've been called hard to love from people who have not shown me a single sign of adoration. I've been called ignorant from people who spew nothing but negativity. I've been called ugly from some of the most beautiful woman I know. We often look to others for how we should act and live,  so focus on yourself and you'll find that there is a bigger picture to every story, here are a few things that I AM. I  am compassionate because people should be able to understand feelings and if they cannot, they can at least respect them. I am warmhearted because everyone deserves love and light from time to time. I am uneducated in situations I dont understand and constantly willing to learn from someone or something. I am beautiful. And so are YOU.
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Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 4:31 PM UTC
The Bigger Picture
Implicit ... hug me ... between your hands like a needy bird ... cover me deeply ... with the sparkle of your eyes ... to feel safe and warm ... to fee love ... as this bird ... protect me from jungle monsters ... and all eyes ... and from satan's whispers ... no one can do ... only you are ... you are my kingdom ... my all life ... full of plant roses ... and warmhearted ... as a paradise ... wrap me with your wings ... to feel happiness and love more ... and just with you only i feel ... because you are ,,, the most beautiful gifts ... that i ever got on my life ... and you are the birthday ... to my all day ... and with you only ... i feel alive ... hug me ... hug me sweetheart ... forever keep do ... with every day ... never ever stop ... hazem al ...
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Jun 28, 2021
Jun 28, 2021 at 4:59 AM UTC
Implicit ...
I am warmhearted and icy cold, with a pretty face that's getting old. I am fragile yet tough as a man, struggle thru life with no real plan. I am petite and cuss like a trucker, slightly naive, but I'm no sucker. I am a sinner with a halo of gold, an open book with secrets untold. I am a hypocrite but always play fair, a bleeding heart and I don't care. I am a mother who acts like a child, crazy, impatient and easily riled. I am spontaneous and I am a bore, forever forgiving, I still keep score. I am unstable and wonderfully wise, a ****** deviant in sweet disguise. I am creative and self-destructive naturally skilled and unproductive. I am shy and I am outspoken with a heart of glass, easily broken. I am awkward and well refined, lost, insightful and a little love-blind. I am respected and I am addicted shamed by burdens, self inflicted. I am a perfectionist and I am a slob, unbiased and shallow, an inept snob. I am nocturnal, a creature of night, blissfully ignorant, typically right. I am cautious and I have no fear, a loser and quitter, still I persevere. I am brilliant and easily amused, over-zealous and under-enthused. I am impervious with wounds to heal, a habitual liar just keepin' it real. I am witty and weird and mean- I am what I am.......100 Aileen.
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Sep 29, 2019
Sep 29, 2019 at 1:32 PM UTC
Me
His hazel eyes invites me inside his desires, unrelenting chemistry, bright dimensions of bliss rousing my soul with his deep and tender affection, his gratifying vibe that eliminates my doubts about exploring the unknown and feel your strength sway inside my system. He transports me to the most breathtaking places, writing poetic songs on my skin, bringing me into the beat of his immersive world, a chocolate love that comforts me, enhances his inspirational messages to me as I luxuriate in his warmhearted embrace.
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Jan 20, 2021
Jan 20, 2021 at 8:10 PM UTC
Luxuriating In His Warmhearted Embrace