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"wence" poems
For you were alone amongst the stars Privy to all that unknowable knowledge That stretches beyond the galaxies edge To the very boundaries of the universe itself Tucked and folded between the hidden masses That bends our love within the relative fabric Wence space and time, travel and warp Slowing our motion to a sensual binary waltz With an ever decaying orbit Until finally you fall into my black heart And together we rebuild the world In the shape of our gravity
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Jul 9, 2024
Jul 9, 2024 at 9:28 PM UTC
The Shape of Our Gravity
She'd been dressing-empty-tears -Again. And the chalice we Shared as friends, Now Shivers as She eats bramble dishes I express to noone forlorn Memories applauding to echoes Collapsing-- 'Empty everlasting rooms.' She's weeping upon her pillows While the wardrobe creeps outside To visit meadows; trees From wence it came. I'm digit-ally connected to nothing Except my duvet whose keeper of secrets And my phone which never rings- Except to greet the winds, as all things wither without-- To dust.
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Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 7:38 PM UTC
Withering Winds
Tis the season and the time To know from wence we came And where in fact we’re headed to As we play this crazy life game We’re born into a story of woe Of difficulties and strife We move forward to an understanding Of our authentic right to life Our freedom to be our true, real self To move with love and courage We sometimes see the difficulties And tend to be discouraged So take to heart this message Of joy, love, truth, and peace Of knowing of who we truly are And self love to increase As children of God we have a place A role which we shall play A puzzle piece on the scheme of life A place from which to pray That all of life find balance and love That all men shall be free To live with all abundance So our true selves we can be
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Dec 18, 2021
Dec 18, 2021 at 7:41 AM UTC
Merry Xmas
It is trivial to question matters Of the big and small For within geometric progression We find that every size has an origin Or starting point from wence it grows Like the spinning fractal that fractures And divides itself into slightly altered Versions of its original self Yet somehow still maintaining the intricacy That would make Pythagoras blush As he contemplates the diagonals That separates the stars on the grandest scales Whereas each individual twinkle Seemingly comprises the same amount of space To the eye untrained to experience A universe larger than the mind can comprehend No, These ruminations are trivial Because at the heart of every idea Lay the very precept upon which life itself is founded Where the import of every single inquiry Will always be The question itself Not just its complexity
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Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 9:53 AM UTC
The Triviality of Progressions
Was a time wence once I wondered Now even more as I look Around and see all that Needs wondering about Everyday a new thing Such is the way Of progress
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Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 1:15 AM UTC
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