poetry pablo neruda

its anything that you want it to be its meant for your feelings to just let lose

I hope you read, and when you read I hope you find that aching- that longing in you. I hope to light a spark of love in everyone who reads me, that will forge a fire of self love- together we can raise Mother Earth higher.

This is my first poetry to my BFF, written on March 7th, 2023. Peach blossom bloomed as gorgeous as bloom rain By: Amoureax Amant Peach blossom bloomed as gorgeous as bloom rain, at branch in full peach blossom on mountain, but left tree branch with wind through amber lake, toward fragrant sea like drifting snowflake. Just left when butterfly danced through peach tree, just left when hummingbird echoed with bee, when rising sun turned dark cloud peach blossom, when drifting rain fell from misty cloud dome. What if peach blossom stayed till September, peach blossom might neither dance through water, nor travel with light breeze through small arbor, toward vast sea like boat sailed from harbor. What if peach asked of peach blossom's journey, here's the answer, freer than in valley.

A collection of poems that I enjoy. Some are poems; some are quotes. They aren't mine--all credit where credit is due. There's no actual lead or genre since there isn't a true plot.

This is my second poetry to my BFF, written on October 28th, 2023. I envied redwood stretched toward heaven By: Amoureax Amant I envied redwood stretched toward heaven, whose branch in branch like hand in cloud ocean, whose leaves like thread weaved curtain covered sky, whose spot like stage light lit for butterfly. I envied stray bird hummed with bugs echo, whose siren song spread through redwood shadow, whose feather swirled like lone-drifting snowflake, whose wings like flash slipped through green amber lake. I envied cowboy rode through siren sight, whose horse ran on green sea plain at twilight, whose gun aimed at wild deer in green forest, whose bonfire cooked deer meat in light gauze mist. I envied fish blew bubble in amber, whose bubble bloomed as gorgeous as flower.

Where there is sadness, happiness, or emotions, There is blue.

It's just poetry I wanted to share with you

Poetry ••• Aimless. I guess that's what I am. There's no place I'd like to arrive at. So that makes me aimless. My feet start to ache. I don't want to walk anymore. I'm so very tired you see. I'm urged to keep on moving. Even if it's painful. I want to stop and ponder. Maybe think of where I'll end. What will happen if my feet grow roots. They usher me forward. Hands pushing against my back. I don't want to walk anymore. Upon this dusty path. My feet are dirty and tired you see. Good sir, please allow me rest. I'm urged to keep on moving. Regardless of my health. Since they push me to walk forward. I guess that I'll walk sideways. Aimlessly in the dust. I guess that's what I am. Aimless.

////\\\\\\\ Disclaimer!!! All Rights Reserved.  Golden_Essence Copyright 2024 Before you start reading this book.... THIS BOOK CONTAINS EXTREMELY EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT OF THE MOST GRAPHIC NATURE. I'm a degenerate, so this book was made for degenerates. If you fancy a romantic relationship between two females, then read at your own discretion. The book is pretty much depraved, with a dark tone, but sexy, trust me. If you are underage or unwilling to experience depictions of Yuri, hardcore sex, fetish behaviors, and unrestrained carnal perversions in lurid detail - DO NOT READ THIS BOOK. You have been warned - continuing past this point confirms you are an adult clearly consenting to subjecting yourself to material that does not shy away from portraying sexuality and deviance in its most profane, boundary-pushing extremes. If you nevertheless choose to proceed and find yourself offended or disturbed, DO NOT BLAME THE AUTHOR. This is your final advisory.  18+ ONLY. Moving on... No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any more or by any mass electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without prior written permission of the author. Please, Take Note: This is a book of fiction. All characters, names, places, incidents and behavior are from my imagination, used with no intentions of hurting anyone; Any resemblance to any actual living thing or dead is mainly by coincidence and I sincerely apologise. Read on!!

Pablo Escobar was born on a cattle ranch in 1949, the second year of The Violence, a civil war that saw millions of Colombians flee their homes and left hundreds of thousands dead. Slicing people up with machetes was popular and led to a new genre of slaughter methods with ornate names. The Flower Vase Cut began with the severing of the head, arms and legs. The liberated limbs were stuffed down the neck, turning the headless torso into a vase of body parts. A victim stabbed in the neck, who had his tongue pulled out through the gap and hung down his chest was wearing a Colombian Necktie. The turmoil affected nearly every family in Colombia. It accus- tomed Pablo's generation to extreme violence and the expectancy of a short and brutal life. Pablo's parents were Abel de Jesús Dari Escobar, a hard-working peasant farmer who traded cows and horses, and Hermilda Gaviria, an elementary-school teacher. As her husband was mostly absent due to work, Her- milda cooked, cleaned and took care of her family. Pablo was the third of seven children. ———————————— Discord:- RAJABHIDIXIT#5608 Instagram:-THE_DEVILS_LORD_777 SNAPCHAT:- RAJABHI046 If you wish to share your opinion on this book, don't feel shy and drop a comment or a message. My discord is :-RAJABHIDIXIT#5608