Saturday, 26 December 2020

My Lost Poesy

  I winter in my psyche,

  That, only renders me murky.

                         Down, I assay to jot,


Yet words flee like one bad tot.

        

            Blanked verily and all,

       

      Or mayhap only ineffable.

                

     Needful to await the calm,


       Likewise, my heart's psalm.

               

      So then I can poetise,


    My rapture's life and demise.


                                                                                    -Leilani



                                                                  December 27, 2020

                                                                1:51 AM    

                                                              My Lost Poesy 


                                                           

  


                                                         

                                                                  


 


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Saturday, 19 December 2020

Jupiter

Thundery downpour,

violety grey matter.

I do not abhor


For fair, the latter.


Drizzly dolour, 


Chimes the chatter


Of blue ever gore.




I love your storm more

    than your rings


 

December 20, 2020

3:26 AM

Jupiter

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Friday, 18 December 2020

Cyclonic

Of thy grim tempest,

I love thee in toto, 'cause.

Give heed. Hearken, please.

            


Dec. 18, 2020

8:33 PM


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Friday, 27 November 2020

Not

To evanesce

Odium

Is to forestall


My own doom


For loathing faints


My being into


Ruin


Thence I state 


I hate you


Not




12:49 AM

Nov. 28, 2020





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Wednesday, 18 November 2020

Tuesday, 25 August 2020

Head to where you belong

      You are emotionally unavailable,
 either because
you are only playing around
or 
you are trying to heal 
from an open wound. 
Both? 


I am tired of games.
Players must go for good.
My door will stay ajar
for the broken ones
who seek real companionship

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Friday, 21 August 2020

Wednesday, 12 August 2020

Dream of Connection


Do some of you feel an aching void within that is solely to be replenished with the truest sort of connection ? I do.

Making love is already depleting its outright value. It is a shame that bodies communicate empty messages and interchange soiled energies. Insignificant carnal contact is becoming the lone parent of fleeting bonds. Can one not act on his sexual thirst, not until passion registers?

Flesh to flesh is now the twisted interpretation of connection. The greater number of today's people are responsive to stark lust and the genital is the primary rootage of libido. Has anyone ever felt an emotionally-driven sensuality?

A rare form of intertwinement is the magnetic polarity between two kindred spirits. Sheer intimacy takes part when a soul perpetually draws itself to its only mate; it is nonverbal, nonphysical.

I unceasingly sense a piercing cavity within that is just to be filled with a cosmic attachment of type. Love, alone, is my stimulant. How about you?


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