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Showing posts with the label 🄯-Poetic-Mood-✓

mille fois

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i am the sky of the skies above all the skies, bearing the sun of the sun of all the suns, and the moon of the moon of all the moons i am the world of the worlds of all the worlds, bearing the star of the stars of all the stars, and the dream of the dream of all the dreams i am the wish of the wish of all the wishes, bearing the night of the night of all the nights, and the day of the days of all the days i am the love of the love of all the loves, bearing the color of the colors of all the colors, and the joy of the joys of all the joys i am the very best of the best of all the best, for i am the i of myself of all the i of the selves of i, crème de la crème of all the crème de la crème (je suis mille fois un trait distinctif  traduite), while a thousand times is not enough for what i am for any sky, any world, any wish, any love, inculcated

universe

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today, the sky looks at me with nerve ‧ it influences me to feel as if i were all that it is ‧ touched by ideas, i got into an eerie vibe ‧ …who's the sky's sun …who's the sky's moon‽ ‧ …could be my universe to be its muse ‽ ‧ in a wink, sky's canvas exposed the poetry I am ‧ i look at the sky, i see me sky looks at me, sees itself ‧ (who am i…‽) (both, together, asked at once)

ain't stopping

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…whisper to me, soul , — whose love , love is afraid of, whose love it yearns for‽ …whisper to me, touch , — whose touch, touch is afraid of, whose touch it yearns for‽ …whisper to me, kiss , — whose kiss, kiss is afraid of, whose kiss it yearns for‽ …whisper to me, dream , — whose dream, dream is afraid of, whose dream it yearns for‽ …whisper to me, word , — whose word, word is afraid of, whose word it yearns for‽ …whisper to me, smile , — whose smile, smile is afraid of, whose smile it yearns for‽ …whisper to me, silence , — whose silence, silence is afraid of, whose silence it yearns for‽ …whisper to me, love, — whose soul, soul is afraid of, whose soul it yearns for‽ …whisper to me, truth , — ain't stopping till you're done with (who's afraid), (who yearns) …‽

Shangri-La

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It's a Shangri-La inside me… Songs played on the radio are my coffee companions . The sun's percussion tools are flavoring the ambiance , while the sky recites my lines. The sea , moved by my words, purifies today's air as deeply as it has done lately, and ever. Ecstasy found me meditating , with my gaze's navel tilted to passion's navel of a loved one. Smelling of milky chocolate , salty caramel , and pistachio , reveals who's thinking of me.

on repeat

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  …bring to me, — sapphire eyes, beautiful nose, flawless teeth, pulpy lips, sublime soul, brilliant mind, perfect coiffure error-free speech, sense of fun, sense of music, athletic body, full of health, gazelle walk, higher than 6 feet, passionate, tender, worker, hygienic, rich, gallant, (with me only), …and an assistant, …and a manual, for being assembling ‧ and just like that, i caught on repeat this epitome from the universe, but as it was expected, it forgot to notify about the most significant aspect, to refer to gender

when the lavender blooms

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my soul roams into a realm where the lavender blooms; it craves to devour its odor for it could inhibit a thought skilled at inducing longing ‧ and as my thought migrates in the province that buzzes with velvet purple whispers, i'm serenaded by the breeze of times, lost in hypotheses ‧ and here and there, untamed, my sentiments romp joyfully into the soul of my sensation sealed with the kiss's scepter of an illustrator, i never met

end of summer

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…he's someone who's not him but him, the kind of one nobody could imagine ‧ …he jumps and lands with fatal oomph into a mind, upgrading all the fancies ‧ …he's more, far more, than the sky sees, serving in full as one omniscient persona ‧ …he is… who's not… he's not… who is… he's one who no one's ever sure will be ‧ 100% forever, lured in a dreamy dream, tenderly sealed into an end-of-summer

walk right in

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…another poem, — the same you… still, (with my dreams looking for you…) ‧ a new day… trying to corrupt you, it uses an inverted message, — (i'm not missing you) ‧ with you loving me, time conjugates me at stars' snazzy joy, validating my alibis ‧ in all your longings, cabochons' agonies affects drastically, my chronic absence ‧ ingenuous moments walk right in your way, translating bizarrely, all you should perceive

dream's scenario

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Salut, — (facilitates dialogs) ▫ Water, — (life's elixir) ▫ Sugar, — (silhouette issue) ▫ Food, — (anxiety factor) ▫ Hobbies, — (therapy experience) ▫ Work, — (didactic effort) ▫ Admirers, — (transitory phase) ▫ Family, — (moralistic interaction) ▫ Love, — (perfection's test) ▫ Hope, — (multiplicated missions) ▫ Writing, — (suggestive interplay) ▫ Today, — (dream's scenario) ▫ Mood, — (unique identity) ▫ Myself, — (free mind) ▫ Story, — (three words) ▫ Coco Deep Blue

two in this story

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two in this story, laughing at their routine trysts, while songs paint their kiss

sur la terra

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in two shakes, your lips leaned down on my lips to kiss …the world …we live in

wet passion

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excitement symptom, due to wet wildish passion, the cat mews to play

god is a weapon

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The noble excellency, the teaching artist of life, has been manifesting itself just out of the blue, to evoke the catalog of each tender-heartedness, manifested through the symbols of pusillanimity by actors who roll their eyes with irritable hubris while adopting as tools a code of religious value, acclimatized to accentuate that god is a weapon. ▫ My being is filtering the antitoxins from toxins. Their skittishness haunts me in virgin moments. My azure gaze nests in a cryptic sheet of music while one's body of the lyrics meditates on love, apt to meet me from a... today, in a... tomorrow, tailored in only one tint of the tête-à-tête of lips that melts in the inferno of a victim's insomnia.

i really wanted you

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Why are you on the roof of my dreams, still, when already my night, gone, humming — “I really wanted you...” , suggesting to you a little trait about “just yesterday” while your dawn has arrived relaxed for me in a superhuman suit, sniffing everything of what I spread on you…‽ ∙ Why are you on the roof of my whispers when my smile lives among melodies that hunt the lips of your words through the stars' cheeks fated to stir the future just to bud the spark of lust at the exact time when the poetry melts in the kiss of metaphors and the gaze of tenderness…‽ ▫▫▫ This distinct „Why” one, it's the name of longing, (a prudent longing) that asks while it waits in the chamber of alchemy, matrix after matrix, of the beauty out of beauty, in the universe of the verb (to love), while a cup of coffee captivates guests with („Why”) in a welcoming cadence.

within the deepest darkness fearful

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...my longing for you kneads the patience, tames the expectations, inspires the dreams to bear fruit of a gaze with the taste of love ‧ ...my longing for you disavows the sadness, lives in appeasement, intercepts the feelings, tenderly gesticulated by the lips of your sun ‧ ...my longing for you explores within the deepest darkness, fearful, to locate your mood in so many playlists, hid by your urge for me

another brick in the wall

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...the memories of the communism, of the dictatorship, in the cult of the fear, are sealing the lips, are petrifying the facial muscles, are ripping the soul, while the howl of the reality is locking the lungs with the padlock of anxiety, using the key of manipulation, attired in military boots; ...people are stuck in a profound disgust of what the hell happens;   ...suddenly, everybody feels censored, just to not hear and see each other's truth, right in the most crucial point; even AI knows; ... the view of a high percentage, promoted nowadays, it's the war, it's the fascism, it's the antisemitism, it's a voice that's not mine or yours, but of someone which with others are using it as if it is; ...entire communities are threatened with all the catastrophic effects that even the imagination is too damn afraid to imagine about; ...a manifestation of the hate, disapproves human attributes, alimenting the souls with an aching pain just to suffer repeatedly; ...the...

her world

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in the sanctity of meticulously dreams, meant to fracture the loneliness, nicely triggered by some beloved memories, you're labeled as the addict i play with ‧ on the pavement of whispers, absently, your team of longing takes a little walk and whistles in my pulsation's rhythms, just as once, when we staged our ritual ‧ i'm a she or her world as a love's tenant lured in a sly game, bizarrely transparent in a situationship without situationship inspired by an effect without final effect ‧ scratches' traces mapped by my scars, percolated your charm to others' charm as i exposed you as a fabricated oddity using algorithms that cheat algorithms ‧ my innate style is an aberrant architect, nonchalantly negotiating any limitation, just to pacify your mind, for isn't a gaffe if you feel explicit thrill due to my mood

recognize

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on the sky bridge sings a dream sketched by time's frisson, — its shape betrays… love ⋯ where are those who're no longer with us, the tears ask, rejecting owl's myth ⋯ night's gaze stalks the town with its progressive process conserved in light-years ⋯ lucid, i'm caressed by a song you shared it once chic to breathe my breath ⋯ petals' silhouettes reach your lungs' nectar to trace my hypnotic scent ⋯ dreams' eyes recognize we're the carnal plenitude in so many tunes ⋯ on my forehead's meadow my dreams speak in odd language, — your lips translate them

crack cocaine

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…the forefingers of the thoughts slipping on an explosive story are swallowing fire and smoke, as if they're some crack cocaine ⋯ with the touch of a kiss and a hug mastered by a sublime smile, your eyes got considerably glued, so you don't get hurt by loving me ⋯ thrilling, in a Republic of Romance, born in a temperamental habitat, uttering in a Latinate elation dialect I am… in the corner of your mouth ⋯ with symptoms of some faint feeling, dreams fall in love by nouns' heads, ⟮mine and yours⟯, visions in visions, overlapped, while spit out the fear ⋯ so the idea got constructed itself, while the music reflected our passion as the forefinger of some thoughts that swallowed both fire and smoke…

are you sure you want ⟮…‽⟯

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are you sure you want to get to know me as i'm identified in a hidden life, messed up in multiplied hopes with sweet dreams that fill my eyes with you… where you'd love to be …‽ are you sure you want to go far and deep, directly to experience my rules, sown with the magnitude of every boost, illogically absorbed by your instincts in the subconscious of my scent …‽ are you sure you want to sip a coffee, conceived and seduced by the witchery of my dialect, embroidered with subtle inscriptions, and devoured by the pupils of the sun while you're perched on my pedestal …‽ are you sure you want to be addicted to the thunderstorm of my fantasies, spaced in the fruit bowl with the passionate loves' bacteria, cos i'm not, not as sure as you think …‽ are you sure you want to get to know why the shoe shape relates to happiness, why soothing zone depends on you, why the grammar of time is oxygen, why the future is — today …‽