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I. nope.



II.
long-windedness verbosity
diffuseness prolixity
wordiness rambli­ng
circuity discursiveness
redundancy tautology
tediousness verbi­age
verboseness length
longevity permanence
garrulity windiness
v­olubility circumlocution
expansiveness babbling
periphrasis gushi­ng
blathering protractedness
waffling lengthiness
iteration repet­ition
prating prattling
jabbering digressiveness
dreariness tediu­m
deadliness wandering
repetitiousness repetitiveness
pleonasm co­nvolution
logorrhoea boringness
maundering superfluity
duplicatio­n tiresomeness
monotony reiteration
gabbiness informality
mouthin­ess diffusion
logorrhea wordage
blah-blah dryness
dullness boredo­m
sameness loquaciousness
talkativeness loquacity
freeness orotun­dity
roundaboutness breadth
gobbledegook gassiness
wittering mult­iloquence
perissology big mouth
gift of the gab garrulousness
staleness tallness
ask and answered
Umi Apr 2018
It's a beautiful day and the sun is shining,
Every cloud has a silver lining,
Being bathed, showered in pure warmth and light, is for every plant nothing less but a wonderous delight,
As every river and stream is sparkling brightly,
Not even distrurbed by a soft breeze slightly,
Shining beyond the scenery of an azure, majestic sky, I want to lose myself in this wandering fragnance,
Such would be, a gift of life of mother natures remembrance,
The scent of the flowers alines, with the gentle song of the wind,
After this day ends all what will be left is...
But a memory of an eternal spring dream, filled with great bliss,
A season of green, sunny days.


~ Umi
Umi Apr 2018
The gentle tone of her teaching,
In wonderous melodies, orchestral knowledge from a sweet teacher,
Education set by the awareness of harmonizing, delicate instruments,
Wisdom and foresight, cast by no other judgement but of a conductor,
Whomst hand leads to the ups and downs of the intensity, recognised
Ensembling in the beauty of a sinfonietta, sounds flows uninterrupted
Let the singing pendulum to your mistress's pleasure fall to the bottom, attached to the chipped illusionists mask of anticipation!
To this dance the mascarade does not crack in the shadow of sound,
A wise scholar would not sacrifice one topic relevant to learn to the passing time, to her students unfortune that is, cast in pure grief,
A wise conductor does the same with musical notes, the story flows,
With the moon high in the sky, time stands in her way, questioning her to dance with the devil amongst a distorted, whicked dark,
But resillient to the end, tough and with no distraction taking her focus the director of this event finishes the creation of art, an orchestra
A craftwoman of tempo and elegance always stands out after all, bringing the musical score to life.

~ Umi
Umi Mar 2018
Umi the bumblebee flies sometimes against a tree
You might not see but you are great
So keep your head high my mate

Umi the bumblebee buzzes around full of glee,
Don't worry I will not sting
I am just being fluffy
Though this bee might also be very cuddly
And mostly silly

Umi the bumblebee likes to see people happy
Full of light she flies under the sun,
Buzzing a song and having fun
From flower to flower, each a delight,
Forming a beautiful field, a wonderous sight
Please don't sneeze while I pollinate
Such would be very great !

Umi the bumblebee buzzes around and hits a tree
This is it she can't do more
Now she is sleepy and goes to bed
Till the red of the dawn awakens her and she once again lifts up her head!

~ Umi
Keith W Fletcher Oct 2016
As I move along this Jaded biway
Gathering up all the discarded refuse
Of all the people freely moving on
With the scattered discourse of their lives
I wonder if they ever even realize
The wonderous  thoughts that materialize
In the minds - of those confined
To time upon time upon endless time

Let loose through the portals
Of  rubber wheeled time machines
The half consumed french fries
And the other assorted wrappers
From the king or the colonel or old MacDonald
To await the attention of me
Or one of my Band of Brothers
Stripe  garbed  attendants on a social mission
To gather up all that is discarded
Picking up all the pieces for a dollar a
day

Serving my time for some stupid crime
That I might never have done
If I'd been given the job... Like... Perhaps
Picking up trash on the side of the road
And for the feeling of pride - at earning my own
Umi Apr 2018
Eternity can change in a fleeting moment,
These are the hopes of a girl, bound to a chair, looking out of the window, seeping sadness with in a barage of frustration locked away,
Rejected by the other kids because she was different, she soon has stopped to bond anymore, friendships seemed like a happy illusion,
Too scared to go outside and be made fun of, or called out for her oddness which would unfold in special, yet fascinating, blissful ways,
Days pass by, which become months, with no range of change to be seen or gazed at, sealing her emotions away to stay sane, one option,
Reading to develop a further understanding of humans, as to develop greater, wonderous capabilities of imagination to simulate a world within her little, fragile, yes almost broken mind, in which she can grow strong and happy, alike her flowers she calls her own children,
After all, each time she desired to get close to one or another, a cold shoulder has been served, their backs turning at her in spite and hate,
But, this girl has lost the reason to mind it, after all, her loneliness is her shelter, her fantasy and her dreams a happy place to return to,
Left behind, like a one winged heron.

~ Umi
Umi Apr 2018
A dazzling sough,
The wind blows through, across the stunning white clouds, to Earth,
A dearness of the whistling, carrying a, warm breeze makes it worth
Worth but to say nothing less than; praise the new coming day!
Rustling the leafs, shaking them, letting them dance, then sway,
The wind is a transient traveler, rushing through this worldly life,
Gathering clouds together, a delicate drizzle is what they strive for,
Distorting, carrying, leading them towards the ground, wettening them in a scenery of a wonderous sight, fertilising the soil more,
Howling in a showering yet intimitating sense of the changing scene,
Blowing over each drop of pure water on the green coloured grass,
Spring is truly a season where dreams can sore,
It gives us the idea of something greater, something more,
Coming with ups, then downs, it gets carried away by the wind,
Until finally, the sunny days of summer are to come,
Sit down with me, listen to the sighing of the wind, don't be lonesome
By the sound it makes, the gentle song which blows through our ears
Can you hear it whispering ?

~ Umi
Umi Apr 2018
The desert,
A sea of sand, drought and dry air under a scorching, blazing Sun,
The wind may feel alike a cut, which burns through your senses,
Relentless, the heat takes over by day, yet by night it is cold enough to freeze you if you come unprepared. Such would be a foolish idea,
A dessert of thoughts, driving into my brain, leaving ideas uncovered
Leaving productivity hidden, under the sand of hatred and self doubt
Such places, landscapes, covered by firy silicate or ice are truly lethal,
Such state of mind, covered by uncertainty is truly lethal, for ones wonderful creativity, for art of all kind, conveyed or material, if you might wander through such a land without any guide to help out,
Worry not, for after every drought comes rain, blissful rain to fertilise the soil of thoughts which will blossom in wonderous ways, to shine,
After all, motion without movement cannot be possible so try to move
A wise friend once tought me, that if you give it enough time, even a nigh impossibility becomes a certainty, even a desert could be a forest
But until then, be patient my dear, even the most deserted place, carries some beauty in it, no ?

~ Umi
Umi Apr 2018
Ah, you see bad dreams,
If you shut your eyes, then go to sleep, alone, terrified of the landscape of the built fantasies within the realm of wonderful dreams
But not even when you're awake you can be save, the nightmares are departing, becoming your reality, if you'd never wake up once you go to bed at night, of course you'd concider it to be more than alright...
The innocence of an angel, is a given once you have passed out,
Because this world feels so unreal, that the imaginated landscape has more truth to it than the wandering amongst an earth with falsities,
Just make sure I wouldn't die, I murmured to my darling as I was swept away, by the wonderous embrace of a soft blanket covering me
With spring dreams blooming eternally, you could fly through space
But a dream may always behold, a world of nightmares never seen before, hidden in a wonderland where they crawl into ****** despair
Once you have closed your eyes, it is called a good night, but remember, your demon, your otherside awaits you in a place with no end, yet no beginning, once you become exhausted as if it was hell,
But even the embrace of such bad dreams seems better than the depression, monsters and cruelty of reality you're escaping from...
So you keep visiting this world more often longer each passing day
What are you seeing in my reddish eyes ? Can I say good morning now, Darling ?
For now, let's say have a good  sleep.

~ Umi
Umi Mar 2018
Time is moving
In a stream of wonderous murderous intending, sacrificing sadness,
My ****** devotion, ought to shed blood in a distorted dark was but an perishable spring dream, looping without an end through nights,
On sleepless nights, the ghosts of the past gets stuck within a river of pure thoughts, a lake birthing memories in secret, subsconsciously,
Discard your common sense, sacrifice your sanity for just this second,
When the moon stands high in the sky, a bonfire seals the nights start
To its creeping shadows, they do not crackor sparkle under the twinkling stars of this celestial ceiling of pure majesty for nyctophiles,
Even our natural satelite agrees, dying itself into a lunatic scarlet red,
Darkness upon darkness, with layers of shadows overlapping one another as the light begins to dim, thanks to the disappearing moon,
An imaginated landscape, created from only pure rage and fury,
But whereabouts of the heart, are likely to be lost to the thought of love I carry within a broken chest of treasury, losing all emotions,
Even if my scarlet eyes were to be losing their ability yet to see,
I would be able to count on you to guide me, through the everlasting,
The dream I awoken from, was a moonlit night turning crimson, losing its radiance through the soft eclipse of the moon, gently, slowly
But you were there, within the far away landscape drawn in my heart

~ Umi
Umi Mar 2018
Holding a pen in hand, preparing pitch-black ink for a blank paper,
I begin with gentle, delicate movements, letting it slide over it.
One line follows another, one without any bother, any care to it.
A regular starshaped polygon, surrounded by a simple circle has been made, one which holds meaning to it, hidden underneath ink.
Some might gaze at it as a sign of a greater evil, heresy or worse,
Others might watch it in awe, a sign of protection a symbol of hope.
A maze with two ends has been made, each with its own belief.
However, my tired eyes, which have been worn, gaze at it and see beauty, the connection of each line contains grace, closed by the circle.
Thus a smile has been cast on my face, as I look at it another time,
Noticing how the black ink has taken the papers purity my cheering sight perishes, saddens in an instant, what I had drawn had become unrecognizable, as the paper spread the ink and distorted this image.
The broken in the light, moist and now fragile, drops through, in wonderous, ominous distraction, leaving a great hole in the middle.
Unable to be ever repaired the paper finds its trail into the trash,
A puddle left of what it was, mixed with the pitch black, had to be cleaned up, so that another attempt could be made, another try.
So I pick up my pen once again and connect the lines with a smile.

~ Umi
Umi Apr 2018
All present in the stream of time,
Connected they build a line, a river which flows uninterruptedly,
The here and now, is the future of a pasts dream, a wonderous reality,
It is the futures past, the memories recorded within the depths of it
Gravity distorts time, causing it to slow down till it's stopping point lensed from a black hole, lurking within shadows of remorse in space,
Fished out from the sea of passing events, it keeps flowing, but now it does so while not including the fallen one who embraced a blackhole,
Time only knows one path, straight ahead with no slips and turns,
The present is the pasts future and what was thought to be possible,
It is the little wealth every living being possesses yet it is overseen and forgotten, until the moment of ones death drives gladly near,
From the womb to the tomb, drowning within the waves of a temporal lengh, the event of an entity's existence and its period.
A pace for an allotment, given from the complaints of an worldly life,
Spend it well, unlike the spring we cannot turn the tide, recycle again!
But for that matter the world of dreams holds a sweet embrace to all,
After all, you don't need to die in a dream.

~ Umi
Warren-Johnson Sep 2018
I sit in a garden all dull and dry, here and there spring trying to push her colour's through.
And then I hear and see so much more ! Life in abundance!

No not the drone of the delivery truck struggle up the hill,
But the hundreds of birds in song!
Chirping away, here and there a butterfly goes with the wind to a new blossom.
A joyous sight by far!

How often do we stop and listen let alone hear?
Fact is life as we know it be equal in audio to that drone of the delivery truck!
Yet life should be as those birds sing in flight!
How often do we smell the fragrance of the spring blossom?
Look at the wonderous skyline?
Or hear the joyous song birds?
Umi Jun 2018
A somber feeling, carried by pure agony,
Flowing, drifting, swiftly in the stream of thoughts, as the spilled pieces just have vanished, never to be whole again, or gazed upon,
The pieces of a time crafted in blessed and happy thoughts,
Swaying back and forth, the once illuminated, azure heaven far above is darkening with ominous looking, thick, yet allure thunderclouds,
Perhabs once this sky has cleared up again, this scene will shine just as majestic as it did before, without worry nor care, without pain.
Ah, phantoms.
I would like to lose myself in this wandering fragnance of what used to be a wonderous and amortal spring dream, created in plain fantasy
But after the city already lost its colour to the obscure horizon,
I realised you were no longer here with me,
And the pieces of a past long gone, have cut my skin before vanishing
Chasing a brighter past caused the future, knocking on my door to be dark, yet such emotions made the world I inhabit a cold, lonesome but also a very gentle place,
Even if tomorrow were never to come,
I wouldn't be able to care less,
For now, just let me rest my eyes.

~ Umi
Poem no.170 yay!
JS CARIE Jan 1
Being found is not a concern
spirited truth bring wonderous burn
Not asking much in satisfaction
To walkabout break down my load of doubt
Long before it made you blue
I was born in love with you
I was born in love with you
I was magnetized by you
Brokk66 Jun 2018
she ignores me still,
the wonderous girl
who stole my heart.
she said...
she would love me forever,
no matter what.

she lied.

I am living proof,
that lies are believable
for I believed...
in her...
and in us.

she failed me,
and let me down,
when i needed her the most.
******* i needed her!

do not believe
that love is beautiful...
for it is false,
and indifferent,
and malignant.

i believed,
and look at me now...
telling all of this to you
strangers,
who don't care.

she lied, and i suffer.
she betrayed our promise,
and that is...
unforgivable.

need i say more?
Umi May 2018
The end of an imperishable night drives near.
Here I thought I could make it eternal, forever write my way through this transient world, standing too proud like the bullet of a dragon.
In a flowering night, late spring arrived and the paths filled with bell like plants, had already determined this final road to cross,
In the sight of the instantanious I stood no chance, I had to accept my defeat, a bitter, cold but refreshing thought, to be freed of a cycle,
Of a cycle causing me to return once a day without taking one break.
Surely I firmly believe to return to you if I hear that you pine for me,
Darling, for now I need to burn up and shine one last time to rest.
Don't get carried away, don't get stuck, don't daydream, don't get lost
This likely happens when you write, because many ideas try to get their way out of your mind, each one trying to be the first one to see the light of the beautiful coming day, to be a piece of wonderous art.
And so, time passes, as it naturally does, again and again, endlessly,
But unlike the passing time, you cannot write forever.
Our creativity will be exhausted but alike a phoenix...
It rises from the ashes again someday.

~ Umi
Dennis Ayzin May 16
In moment wonderous of wisdom
Or life’s eternity indulgence
I freed myself,
                at last, from prison
Unchained my soul,
                and fled the dungeon
Bhill Apr 30
Thunder rolled in
A voice, loud and vicious
From the south she came
Rains, lightning, and violent winds
Skimming the mountain tops dropping her flair
Waters, finding their way down to the valley floor
Water flowing through washes and off cliffs
Washes created by storms from the past
Flowing, furiously fast
Swallowing all things in her way
Cliffs creating the most wonderous of waterfalls
Lightning showing off brilliant power
Sending jagged beams of power across the darkened sky
Beams dancing from cloud to cloud and cloud to ground
What a show...
Oh, the desert can deliver these storms with little warning
Oh this place we call home has beauty and terror in balance!

Brian Hill - 2019#107
Inspired by desert storms...
Another desert inspiration
Athanasius Dec 2018
I miss the quiet of unrequited love;
Quaint love that wasn't quite love,
Less like love and more of lust.
Just trust in faith, trust, and pixie dust
To guide your hand to this wonderous Wonderland,
A Neverland you'll never have
Where the only truth is fixation on imagination.
Sensual sensation and internal infatuation
In combination with pain and frustration of waiting for nothing;
I hate it.
But I love it, I laud it, applaud it,
The freedom, the fleeting feeling of being love drunk till kingdom come.
The beating drum of a beating heart that will be beaten down but will come around,
For in the game of love for two where only a single player plays,
There is no winner in the end, the joy comes from the chase.
Let your feelings run free in the fields of your imagination
Gavin Oliver Jul 31
Bad memories pollute the skulls of men like weeds choking beautiful flowers.

A man who has known fear can truly appreciate love.

Hatred magnifies cruelty but compassion nullifies hatred

An open mind can conceive of wonderous things.

A truly repentant man will gain salvation if he revokes past sins.

A flower blossoms with gentle care as does a tortured soul.

Tolerance can bring understanding. Understanding is the key to peace.

Selfish attitudes lead to the downfall of compassion. Unselfish actions sow the seeds of hope
Dan Jun 14
I found movement in stillness, song in silence;
life eternally dancing inside each and every one of us... the universe is within.

Life, death, equally fascinating- but, whats in between has been beyond comprehension. The level of ignorance engrained is madly interesting....

I am insanely curious, and this journey has fired up every cell in my body, but at the same time- ignorance has brought comfort, a sense of liberation, never knowing what to ask and to whom. This place has allowed me to explore that.

Paradoxically, I have found peace in slowing down, knowing that one day the questions will arrive when my heart is ready to carry the answers.

Life is blossoming and its all around, working overtime. And so is death- which isnt really the opposite but a part of it. I look at soil and im constantly reminded of the ambiguity and polarity of existence. And, our brain, sitting at the crown of our heads- has tremendous abilities, quiet down and be curious about it. We are unique fantastical beings and we should start knowing it. We can always start again. Time is eternal and yet its never really there. Such beauty!

Understanding that we are part of a totality thats ever wonderous, calculative and frightfully clever is powerful.

A wise woman once shared that if you dont know yourself deeply, whats the point in learning about anything else?

I catch myself smiling.
Tipon 4d
Tessa I

It is not a laughing matter, watching life through bro-
ken glass and memory loss in an instant. "You did give
me that horse," death changes everything. Friday after-
noon, like any other day, only more wonderous after my
collapse. Why you kicked me in the head is making me

wonder about a sitcom, cruel and vengeful. Was it love,
Tessa? Or was it Coca- Cola, Miller Beer oats and flakes?
Revenge or consumption? You want my honesty, you are
hijacking Time. Give me something, inspire me, manage this
life you want. I am giving you the secret key to a new start.
Tessa I
Hadrian Veska Dec 2018
The graves we pass are nameless
Weather worn and old
The mausoleums slumber
Dreamlessly to hold
The bones of those before us
Whomever they may be
Beneath the wonderous moon
And weeping willow tree
Gavin Oliver May 21
I chanced upon a cool green glade, tranquil and calm bathed in warm sunlight and dappled shade.

As my feet did trace a path through enchanted grove of swaying trees, I felt the presence of Pan. Mythical mysterious , the great Green Man.

Who enters my realm? What do thee seek? Answer now let me hear you speak. Oh Pan magnificent and wise,I long for  peace and wonderous sights. A divine vision for my weary eyes.

I beseech thee let me stay in this beautiful place. I mean no harm, I do no wrong just let me listen to the song. Nature's voice so soft and gentle. Lulls me to a peaceful sleep.

An honest soul I sense in thee,I grant thee time in my realm. Come, sit and still thy heart.i send a breeze to cool thy brow. Free your mind of worldly thought enjoy the place in peace thee sought.

From the sweetest slumber I did wake to a sight so magical my breath it did take. Dancing in Diana's silvery glow a ring of fairies in free flow.

We wake thee with our songs and send thee on thy way...Oh such beauty I wish I could stay
In the quiet does one hear the elegance of Wisdom as she passes by.
When one stops in the calmness of themselves, they may perceive her touch.
For when she touches one - insight is given like water filling the depths of an empty well.

Where worry cuts off the ability to think and move, Wisdom’s touch removes the debris around.
Relief’s sigh exonerates within the depths of one’s soul - the freedom from our circumstantial prison;

The insights, a robust fountain that springs forth from the depths of one's reality, their being floating in the ebb and flow.
How wonderous is Wisdom's touch?
For the waters of reality becomes enlightened to the ones marked by her fingerprints.
I wrote this poem based from the concept of being touched by Lady Wisdom (גבירה חכמה). As I pondered on this concept, this poem simply flowed.
Bragi Oct 2018
In the sea
There is a tree
It’s roots they stretch a thousand leagues
It’s branches reach up oh so high
They go so far as to touch the sky

The tree was said never to be named.
For centuries, deliberately some would say,
it kept all people in the world at bay
But the gods had promised there to be a day
The most deserving of children would find a way
And climb the tree to find treasures array
..if only one monster the youth could slay.

In a sadly lit room a little girl cried.
The ring she had given her before she had died
was all that was left of the happy past life
Her mother had spent with her there by her side.
Her mother long gone and the ring not in sight,
The little girl wailed but would sneak out that night.

She knew where it was, her cruel aunt had thrown it;
‘Come now’ she said ‘I think you’ve outgrown this’.
It fell at a place where all were forbid,
under sea waves was where it now hid.

She found the place
She made no mistake.
Before jumping in the little girl braced
A rush of water had hit her face
A brand new feeling she had to intake
But the water now returned a warming embrace.
It helped the girl and showed her the way.

She must have been swimming for more than nine hours
Her legs were so tired, but she was no coward.
She could see shapes ahead, she screamed and she shouted
But no one replied, no alarm had been sounded.
So the little girl swam... and soon she was grounded.

The shapes were giant roots, bigger than buildings
Huge, unbelievable, bewildering, tall things
Then she realised, on one was she standing
And when she looked up, she noticed she was climbing.
At the top, she knew, she felt a strange feeling,
The ring would be there, she could see it, waiting.

She reached the top
Her heart had stopped
A golden garden with birdsong, soft.
The gardens heart held a door, locked.
But the way to the key appeared to be blocked.
Blocked by a horrible, familiar aunt.

The aunt ran at the girl, in big scary strides
But the girl was not afraid, no more would she hide.
She stood on the edge, her heart as her guide.
And waited for the moment they both would collide...

Off the edge they fell
The girl said ‘farewell,
To my mum where all is well’.
She closed her eyes as the demon aunt yelled.
At then at that moment her mum’s voice broke the spell
‘One more push to be happy, one more my big girl’.

She opened her eyes and felt the wind rush
She kicked off the aunt with one final push.
The girl only just missed one of the trees roots.
The monster was slain, you could hear the yells hush.
The girl landed safely in the waters warm touch.
And now a small key in her hands did she clutch.

She climbed once more
And unlocked the door
Where beyond was lain the most wonderous of hordes
Treasures beyond what all life has explored.
But the little girl walked on so swiftly past it all
Until she had found what her heart was there looking for.

The Gods came down and congratulated her
‘But you must take more! It is what you have earned!
You completed this feat, you should take what’s deserved!’
But the girl just smiled and with this thank you she turned

I just want the ring
And memories to keep
Of my mother always.
To help me to sleep.
You Gods are kind
But my mother you can’t give
So let me go home with this most precious of gifts.

And with that
the girl found herself back
In a dimly lit room with a ring in her hand.
But in the morning when she got up to stand
She found herself smiling at a rather strange sound.
It wasn’t her aunt yelling, or screaming a demand,
But asking if she liked yolks runny
or if she preferred them when hard...
Starkeeper Oct 2018
I want reality to become blurred
And fague
I want the rules to be broken
Or changed
I want magnificent beings to spring into existence
I want wonderous magic to appear in an instance

I want, I need
My Life
To become
My Dream
Sometimes I want to jump into a book to join it's wonderful world
paige tenielle Sep 2018
the most wonderous feeling
is realizing that maybe
just maybe
im not a *******
you just dont know
how to show me otherwise
originally written : 8.30.18

and you obviously never will.
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