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"wildy" poems
Tell the truth about the way we loved. Savagely Fervidly Passionately Wildy We burned down the walls of our own bedroom We gave the stars a show The shore something to grab hold of... We were endless Brilliant in our together Innovators in our type of beautiful. We inspired... Men to love women whose mind's were worth kneeling for, And women who loved men with respect worth submitting to... Tell them how we loved Tell them Their was love in the  way our feet moved in relation to the other The way our eyes danced through all of these people Till their was something worth settling on... For me it was you... For you it will forever be me... I will tell them... because sometimes the things that burn the brightest tend to leave one breathless... In a world so self contained... We could not burn down these walls for our beautiful...
0
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 10:41 PM UTC
The Fire
For the second time in March we have snow Could someone please wake spring from her slumber She should be here by now fighting the good fight, wiping clean the wintersmiths frosty drawings Last year she had tucked him away She had read him his bedtime story Last year we had seventeen, this year we have merely two How he must be laughing, running amok through the hills and the valleys Turning everything white with a wave of his hand But where is she? Even he must miss her so, even he must be longing to dance Still it is not his place to question He can only do what is in him to do With a sigh he exhales a bitter northerly wind and coats the confused daffodil with a jacket of ice Then off he goes dancing alone Spinning wildy through the towns like a leaf in a web Stopping only to place his hands on those foolish enough to leave flesh exposed Maybe she has forsaken us Maybe she has resigned her post Like when the last ice age hit and she took a sabbatical I hope she has just slept in Or maybe she is just getting ready for the grandest of entries Yes let us hope she is just sorting through her vast collection of colourful dresses Because if she does not appear and dance the dance of seasons change If she doesn't take the wintersmith by the hand and sing him softly to sleep Then that giant golden skinned adonis of a man summer will not come! Without her he will not appear Without her beauty we will not feel the warmth of his love Oh someone please wake spring from her slumber
0
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 5:49 AM UTC
Someone please wake spring
For the second time in March we have snow Could someone please wake spring from her slumber She should be here by now fighting the good fight, wiping clean the wintersmiths frosty drawings Last year she had tucked him away She had read him his bedtime story Last year we had seventeen, this year we have merely two How he must be laughing, running amok through the hills and the valleys Turning everything white with a wave of his hand But where is she? Even he must miss her so, even he must be longing to dance Still it is not his place to question He can only do what is in him to do With a sigh he exhales a bitter northerly wind and coats the confused daffodil with a jacket of ice Then off he goes dancing alone Spinning wildy through the towns like a leaf in a web Stopping only to place his hands on those foolish enough to leave flesh exposed Maybe she has forsaken us Maybe she has resigned her post Like when the last ice age hit and she took a sabbatical I hope she has just slept in Or maybe she is just getting ready for the grandest of entries Yes let us hope she is just sorting through her vast collection of colourful dresses Because if she does not appear and dance the dance of seasons change If she doesn't take the wintersmith by the hand and sing him softly to sleep Then that giant golden skinned adonis of a man summer will not come! Without her he will not appear Without her beauty we will not feel the warmth of his love Oh someone please wake spring from her slumber
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27
today you could chose to be silent or to shout to sulk or to sway to stall, simmer or bubble forth, overflow. you decide. your call. but today, i wish for you to dance (just a wish, mind you) a twist, a two-step, a waltz in solo or just lose it wildy alone in the yard with a flurry of smiles, adorning your face your limbs undulate in synch with the colors of your dress in a blur brown curls sailing with the breeze your blue eyes buried in stifled laughter your fingers curl in beguiling pose while you sway your hips like cursive graffiti upon a sacred wall sweat rising on hallowed ground celebrating the impossible chance that you even ******* exist. should you opt to dance please bury your troubles away there is time enough to be sad another day break out like a malady of mirth infect us fervent with your delicious antics we know you are crazy enough to be trusted with our pernicious lives for there are those of Us gathered wandering souls with bated breath to see your feet convulse in rhythm and lead the parade. i take my place in the crowd, throw in my well-wishes in that big vat of love a-boiling in the center of the square ready to see you go nuts. you decide. your call. dance, for the sake of dancing love, for the sake of loving. so listen to the song spinning. just maybe, you could grant me the honor of capturing your untamed vision paint it with fierce abandon on this canvass and offer it as my humble gift. happy that you were born. honored to meet you right at the corner of this universe. best wishes on your birthday!
0
Jul 17, 2011
Jul 17, 2011 at 2:55 PM UTC
birthdance
today you could chose to be silent or to shout to sulk or to sway to stall, simmer or bubble forth, overflow. you decide. your call. but today, i wish for you to dance (just a wish, mind you) a twist, a two-step, a waltz in solo or just lose it wildy alone in the yard with a flurry of smiles, adorning your face your limbs undulate in synch with the colors of your dress in a blur brown curls sailing with the breeze your blue eyes buried in stifled laughter your fingers curl in beguiling pose while you sway your hips like cursive graffiti upon a sacred wall sweat rising on hallowed ground celebrating the impossible chance that you even ******* exist. should you opt to dance please bury your troubles away there is time enough to be sad another day break out like a malady of mirth infect us fervent with your delicious antics we know you are crazy enough to be trusted with our pernicious lives for there are those of Us gathered wandering souls with bated breath to see your feet convulse in rhythm and lead the parade. i take my place in the crowd, throw in my well-wishes in that big vat of love a-boiling in the center of the square ready to see you go nuts. you decide. your call. dance, for the sake of dancing love, for the sake of loving. so listen to the song spinning. just maybe, you could grant me the honor of capturing your untamed vision paint it with fierce abandon on this canvass and offer it as my humble gift. happy that you were born. honored to meet you right at the corner of this universe. best wishes on your birthday!
Continue reading...
54
The sweet never grows old Or so it has been said silently and fortold But one never knows what fortune may hold Fortune, the misguided traveler Whom, winds wildy send That,in dandy-lionic fashion is fortune's fend All the troubles of tyrants have brought to bend There you find him, dicingly deciding Riguriously rolling away, not minding This carousing of carelessness Is what bought and sold him his business And business is good The lifestyle and the luxurious lude All was pefect, even the mood But that's the aroura allure Falling into flooding failure And business is too good Lucious conditioning can have one fooled Fortune is not to be mettled with or tooled Now it is time for this traveler to be leaved All the misspoiled one needs is his soul to be retrieved Luckyliy the lucid fortune's duty has been relieved
0
Mar 3, 2017
Mar 3, 2017 at 1:55 AM UTC
The wheel
your arms are etched with red and black they're the story of summer that I look back on have i forgotten the sound of the waves the soft of the cushion the games that we played we learned different strategy and sing different tunes my only regret is that i missed the moons which marked all the hours of the days that we spent; we didn't know curses we didn't pay rent the days idled wildy the nights sauntered on, your arms tell the story of the summer that's gone
0
Sep 3, 2011
Sep 3, 2011 at 7:10 PM UTC
summer
there is beauty in innocent intelligence where the elder sister disturb the younger sister through the window i of class just so that they can go back earlier through the changing times of the world and the storm of wild emotions it is warm to know that life as humans ages and eons ago, likely shared the same experiences and innocent amusing through the times and ages we cant ever escape our emotion but rather should deal with it one way or another we will never know how there is just so many ways to handle all most likely already been explored or trialed it might work or not we will not know through the world beyond innocent laugher and simple joy the darkness and terror eludes how can we stay pure and not judge with such or how can we be a terror but find pureness life and human world is a wildy conflicting place how can we know for sure what is what
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Jun 11, 2023
Jun 11, 2023 at 12:47 AM UTC
beauty in life amusing