I've been living in this STERILE world
card board, cut out lawns
one, two, three...
what the fuck am I supposed to do?
who the fuck am I supposed to be?
Everyday there's a fight inside my mind,
my mental state fights my body
and my body fights me
and they say "you're strong, just let it be."
but I'm dying inside just to keep what's left
the money is all here
but I feel like a theft
and I swear to God I am getting further from my soul everyday
cause the truth is I grew up fighting
and now nothing is that way
It's the spirit inside
for the tough times we endure
the spirit that carries us
and keeps us secure.
No one would believe the fucked up I endured
cause I act like Martha Stewart
and act so self assured.
Martha I love you,
but fuck you.
This shit aint for me.
Martha I love you
but I'm telling you
I just gotta be free.
Where the streets are dangerous
Even for the nations courageous
Crimes brutal cold heinous
All under the watching afternoon sun
They don't even try to flee and run
Calls to the media world come
Is the world now a better safer place
Is killing and blood spilling what it takes
No! God’s heart and the free it only breaks
Yet let all know that liberty will win
Let all cry we will never give in
Let all live lives of love in memory of him
"Eärendil was a mariner
that tarried in Arvernien;
he built a boat of timber felled
in Nimbrethil to journey in;
her sails he wove of silver fair,
of silver were her lanterns made,
her prow was fashioned like a swan,
and light upon her banners laid.
In panoply of ancient kings,
in chainéd rings he armoured him;
his shining shield was scored with runes
to ward all wounds and harm from him;
his bow was made of dragon-horn,
his arrows shorn of ebony;
of silver was his habergeon,
his scabbard of chalcedony;
his sword of steel was valiant,
of adamant his helmet tall,
an eagle-plume upon his crest,
upon his breast an emerald.
Beneath the Moon and under star
he wandered far from northern strands,
bewildered on enchanted ways
beyond the days of mortal lands.
From gnashing of the Narrow Ice
where shadow lies on frozen hills,
from nether heats and burning waste
he turned in haste, and roving still
on starless waters far astray
at last he came to Night of Naught,
and passed, and never sight he saw
of shining shore nor light he sought.
The winds of wrath came driving him,
and blindly in the foam he fled
from west to east and errandless,
unheralded he homeward sped.
There flying Elwing came to him,
and flame was in the darkness lit;
more bright than light of diamond
the fire on her carcanet.
The Silmaril she bound on him
and crowned him with the living light
and dauntless then with burning brow
he turned his prow; and in the night
from Otherworld beyond the Sea
there strong and free a storm arose,
a wind of power in Tarmenel;
by paths that seldom mortal goes
his boat it bore with biting breath
as might of death across the grey
and long forsaken seas distressed;
from east to west he passed away.
Through Evernight he back was borne
on black and roaring waves that ran
o'er leagues unlit and foundered shores
that drowned before the Days began,
until he heard on strands of pearl
where ends the world the music long,
where ever-foaming billows roll
the yellow gold and jewels wan.
He saw the Mountain silent rise
where twilight lies upon the knees
of Valinor, and Eldamar
beheld afar beyond the seas.
A wanderer escaped from night
to haven white he came at last,
to Elvenhome the green and fair
where keen the air, where pale as glass
beneath the Hill of Ilmarin
a-glimmer in a valley sheer
the lamplit towers of Tirion
are mirrored on the Shadowmere.
He tarried there from errantry,
and melodies they taught to him,
and sages old him marvels told,
and harps of gold they brought to him.
They clothed him then in elven-white,
and seven lights before him sent,
as through the Calacirian
to hidden land forlorn he went.
He came unto the timeless halls
where shining fall the countless years,
and endless reigns the Elder King
in Ilmarin on Mountain sheer;
and words unheard were spoken then
of folk and Men and Elven-kin,
beyond the world were visions showed
forbid to those that dwell therein.
A ship then new they built for him
of mithril and of elven-glass
with shining prow; no shaven oar
nor sail she bore on silver mast:
the Silmaril as lantern light
and banner bright with living flame
to gleam thereon by Elbereth
herself was set, who thither came
and wings immortal made for him,
and laid on him undying doom,
to sail the shoreless skies and come
behind the Sun and light of Moon.
From Evereven's lofty hills
where softly silver fountains fall
his wings him bore, a wandering light,
beyond the mighty Mountain Wall.
From a World's End there he turned away,
and yearned again to find afar
his home through shadows journeying,
and burning as an island star
on high above the mists he came,
a distant flame before the Sun,
a wonder ere the waking dawn
where grey the Norland waters run.
And over Middle-earth he passed
and heard at last the weeping sore
of women and of elven-maids
in Elder Days, in years of yore.
But on him mighty doom was laid,
till Moon should fade, an orbéd star
to pass, and tarry never more
on Hither Shores where Mortals are;
for ever still a herald on
an errand that should never rest
to bear his shining lamp afar,
the Flammifer of Westernesse."
~ The Fellowship of the Ring, Many Meetings
I want to find the pieces of you,
That noone else can see.
Those exquisite parts where your soul, your destiny,
Runs free.
The parts of you that want
This kind of love forever..
Our eyes would meet
And the earth would move,
As we came together..
We would dance,
You and I..
Turning slowly,
Hands to hips.
Creating melodies with our love,
With crescendos rising towards,
The meeting of our lips.
But, for now.
I can trace the soft lines of your skin,
Luminous ivory in this darkness.
I can taste the curves of your soft pink lips,
Revelling in the fire of our passionate kiss.
I can watch those same lips as they press together and then part,
As I trace the wondrous maps of veins over your sweet breasts,
Back to your heart.
And that, my dear, is where I shall make my home.
I keep waiting and waiting for something miraculous to happen
Something that would light the fireworks buried 6 feet under
But this body, holds them, keeps the lighter at bay
Repeating it’s better that way, but I’m left wondering,
If these restrictions I have laid upon myself will ever let me fly
Fly into the city I have dreaming of my whole life, the city that never sleeps
These dreams, all so childish, and I’m just a girl trying to keep up-
With the vast expectations pressured into her tiny palms bearing the cloaked truths of life yet to be lived
I have a hate and love relationship with money
I have enough of it keep me alive, but never enough to live
Or maybe greed has poisoned the nerves, clasping my brain into its dirty hands
Maybe I’ll win a lottery, that will be miraculous enough, wont it?
I keep waiting for someone, someone who’ll plant a nuclear bomb inside me
At least I will jump out of my skin, and breathe free, as my body rests in peace
But life is unfair, so are the genes
And I’m not sure if savior exists, and I’m not sure how long will I live
Money snatched my dream right out my hands, and burnt my desire to exist
I tried, to dig up the fireworks, but it let me speculating if any have,
I found them, believing I have outlived the restrictions
But when I tried to light them, their tips turned out to be wet
It’s sad really, to realize after all these years, chasing after this dream, to end up knowing fate has its own evil way of working
And I’ll never have enough money to support these dreams, nor the talent, nor the confidence to be who I really want to be.
I'm trending love.
I'm trending hate.
I'm trending the fact that you always reply a little too late.
I'm telling you that you are less than enough.
And when you fuck me, its a little too rough.
Pounding away like you're shooting a gun.
All too soon.
I never come.
Too pretty to make you feel let down.
Fake it always, you're the shittest rodeo clown.
Take off your fuckin face.
Eat me wide, go on, give me a taste.
Sink your teeth into my bare flesh,
feel my history in my blood
seek me out in all my mess.
I am showing you darling
in my very sweet tones
that my succinct naivety is nothing more,
than what you want from your white ash bones.
I am trending you
I am trending your cock.
I am trending the look you wear
and the music you rock.
I am seeking a feeling more than text, a wink or smiley face.
Look, At, ME.
Am i that easy to replace?
Bitterness is found in the sweetest pill
i'll bend your ass, i'll bend you over,
I'll fuck you at will.
I will move my trend towards your neck
outpour my lack of interest in your ear,
tell you what it is you want to hear.
Fuck you, and fuck your nation.
Fuck your distinctive'taste',
and your senseless judgement and interrogation.
I am not some sweet-ass-fuck-drive-by-shooter-girl,
I have fucking brains,
I am seconds away from tearing apart your world.
I am living safely from behind my defensive line of white hair,
fuck that shit, i don't want closeness
rip my clothes off, don't leave till i'm wanton and bare.
Oh and i am trending your messages
I am trending all of you.
I am not trending depression, fucked up or feeling blue.
I am trending love, trending the great divide.
I made it through and over, to the other side.
I am not what you will ever believe me to be
a glimmer, of a hint, in a riddle, is all you will see.
I am trending what is insane, and what is not,
I am thinking, your thinking of,
'what the fuck has this girl got?'
I am not here to make you laugh, or for you to wish for more,
I am here to be left broken and wet,
on your kitchen floor.
I am trending honest, i am trending passion and life,
I am trending a big fat fuckin smile,
Because I am not your possession or your future wife.
I am not trending your cock size, or your 16 positions in one night,
I don't want you to cry on my shoulder
I am not trending 'your mother', i have earnt that right.
Look, At. ME.
Second chances rarely come as few
and when i walk away, i will walk away with a taste of you.
I am sweetness, i am luxury divine,
make me bite you, scratch your back, forget the time.
But at my cost, at my control, this will be,
you are not my attachment,
my soul is not your key.
I am trending love, i am trending ME
for what is locked within, is never for free.
Fuck.
Me.
What a trend
Hannah decided to have a heartwarming party
After all home is where the heart is
So she invited anyone with lungs that breathe
To come share the warming air
She typed up a flier that read:
I welcome you all to see
The moon meet the sun
Cover charge: one body handshake
The drug for this evening will be hugs
I've heard if you have too many or
Squeeze too hard you can
Overdose on love
But we will take our chances
Bring a friend or
Better yet an enemy
Show them that the
Night can dance with the day
It will dawn on them at dusk
This won't be one of those
BYOB affairs
More like bring your own everything
So we all can play emotional musical chairs
Smiles are free
Surrounded by such company
So be sure to RSVP
Even though walk ins are always accepted
It would make me so happy
To know you're coming! :)
Margaret looks around her overly organized kitchen and smiled. " Isn't the kitchen just….. beautiful?"
"What do you mean?" The boy studied the kitchen with a confused look on his face.
"Everything is just beautifully organized, and clean."
"What's the fun in that?"
"Huh?" Margaret turns to look at the boy. "What's not fun about clean and organized things?"
"Well, chaos is what runs this world. Control is what holds it back. If everything is controlled and organized, then nothing will be created, invented, or even worth looking at. The world was not meant to be controlled or quiet, it was meant to be loud, free, chaotic"
Painted American woman stands strong
on every corner weeks after
bombs landed on Pearl Harbor
How can I hold her in my arms
if the ground beneath us is trembling?
This country is filled with oppression
misunderstandings and hate
But isn't their still love?
The blue on our flag reminds me
of her lovely eyes, and the red is the blood
I would spill for her fair skin. Isn't this love?
I can't walk down the street
without seeing old Uncle Sam's
determined finger pointing at the
squint eyed japs and their wet fangs.
They say he's the enemy, Kill the enemy!
Kill!
I will fight for the painted American woman
I see her everyday on my lonely travels
with her long hair wrapped up,
staring into the clear sky
praying that every bullet that
is fired towards me will perish
and fade away
I fight so I can sit in the front with her
drink and share the same water as her
I kill to hold her hand in a free world
while this country is unfair, I'll die for
her and a new tomorrow.
This is the last time
that I will ever sit in this seat,
in the library,
and write a poem because
I feel like shit,
or because I'm hopelessly in love.
This is the last day that we as people
will have to pretend to be friends.
I feel so weightless and free
knowing its finally over.
With a hint of nostalgia.
And this is the last time that
I will ever walk these halls,
as a student.
I'm not ready to grow up
just yet.
I still have so much time to be
young.
I'll miss it one day,
but right now.
Its time to move on.
