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50 shades of ****** up,
I've ventured deep within you.
...scrutinized every centimeter,
every corner,
of that perplexing cavernous mind of yours.

                              I
                        ­                fell
                                            ­       in
                                                                love


...but somewhere between "I" and "love"
I found myself stumbling into the spaces between them.
I knew you were too weak
to catch me but
those cogent promises,
that compelling voice,
how could I not succumb, baby?
I never doubted you and that was my downfall.
I stood in the gap for you,
defended you,
when anyone pestered me with pessimism.
There's this saying about....
...a log being in your eye
yet you're trying to take a speck out of someone else's;
Let's just subliminally throw the ***** laundry out.
Out of all the wrongs I've ever done,
I'm able to say,
"I never cheated."
"I never gave up."
"I was always there for you."
"I kept my promises."

kinda distasteful that you can't, huh?
tbc has been discontinued.
                                             **TheEnd.
tbc: to be continued.
it ended the way it did bc I began exerting too many emotions and the person this is directed to doesn't deserve an ounce of it.
"TheEnd" represents the end, no space in between because there isn't anymore space in my poetry or life for another tbc.
Jessica Altieri Dec 2014
"Would it be entirely inappropriate of me to suggest a hangout session in which we go out for tea and some mostly-nonserious flirtation?", he asks, all of which is proceeded by more than two hours of silly, random banter involving eyeballs and pineapples in vacuums.

It seems being asked on a date has become so taboo, to the point that when it does happen, the natural reaction would be to say yes.

TBC...
50 shades of ****** up,
let me explore you.

Allow my demons the delectation,
of amalgamating with yours.
Let’s connect our hearts as one,
as our spirits intertwine
and our demons sway.
sway to the a tuneless feeling of euphoria.
sway to sounds of two hearts,
beating as one.
yours and mine.

tbc...

- d.b.d.
James Ellis Apr 2012
The lamp post with the shoes around it
that's what I want to write about
The one approximately forty yards northeast
from the view at the start of my driveway
Located in the middle of the end of the culdesac
It's funny because thare are three shoes:
My left Converse All-Star,
Cole's right Nike,
and the third one i cannot make out
In fact I can't recall who threw them up there
All I remember was feeling pride
in not only my community,
but in it's history
Tenby Court is where I'm from
I lived their for eighteen years
We call it the TBC
I look at the shoes now
and I get that same feeling
But now the only difference is
there's another feeling
accompanying the pride
It's one I haven't felt in a while:
Nostalgia
chels May 2013
This is a love poem.
This is a poem for the girl I haven't met yet,
with the long brown hair
and the eyes that always look down.

This is a poem for the girl who thinks this is about her,
and this is a poem for the girl who thinks this is about her.

And it is about you.
It's about your eyes,
and how they don't blink sixty times a minute and
I'm jealous of that,
because you don't have to deal with time passing by as quickly as I do.
And sure, you have a kaleidoscope heart, but
you also have a honeysuckle smile.
And sure, a lot of the time, you see the bad -
but that doesn't mean you can't see the good, either.

I want you to twist my skin between your hands, like an Indian rug burn,
and change me,
because we both know that it isn't as hard as we pretend it to be.
Always look forward,
and adjust me with your fingertips until I'm whatever color you want me to be,
because I'll change for you.
Steve D'Beard Jan 2013
I should've guessed
by the nondescript response
teenagers glazed
by 'proper' use of language;
'old-speak' as some would see it
yet to be blessed by a words prowess
fazed by more than 1 syllable
seems inconceivable
and yet text-speak sits,
or rather, should be, languish,
as a hybrid of our languages
prompts me to write this
out of plain literary anguish.

each year on birthdays
write a small poem or limerick
the momentary excitement of opening the card
is lapsed by reason
(it does not contain a £20 note)
the thought bubble denotes
they express some disdain
the speech bubble that follows
the spark in the brain
just another of Uncles gimmicks
lacking the imagination to invoke
something more personal
than a hardback book:
another 200 recipes
for the aspiring young cook

they implied they enjoyed lunchtimes at school
instead wanted an iPad or something
equally expensive and cool

So I try to embrace it
this thing they call urban
write something poetic in text-speak
the very premise of it
is somewhat disturbing
the infinite curve of learning
LOLs from actual LOLS;
the mobile language equivalent
of online voyeurs,
the posters of nonsense,
noobs and trolls

apparently a ROFL
is more-or-less as potent as ****
I scratch my head in wonder
text-speak is used by millions
to converse on a global scale
some how

Q: does SUM exist
(as in 'shut ur mouth' )
is that acceptable?

A: not yet cordially invited on the list
(its an actual word
doesn't count as an acronym)
Im told

the coal face of the lexicon:
indigestible
the steep learning curve:
unpredictable

by your 30s its automatically
re-classified:
Congratulations
You are now officially 'Old'

we are merely wordsmith pedestrians
lost in the tide of text-speak equestrians
jumping and leaping and rolling in SETE and S2R's
are we binned as an S4L, the Spam For Life?
(perhaps I haven't got that abbreviation quite right)

in the context of text-speak
they are suitably troll-like in their essence
forgive me dear teenager
I am but a
SNAG in your presence:

'Sensitive'
(on occasion)
'New
Age' and
'Grown-up'
(given the right persuasion)

the riposte would be SUYF!!
('Shut Up You Fool' - said like MR. T in A-Team)
STM and Spank The Monkey
apologise, SOZ, SRY and Apls
or something equally short,
snappy and funky

at this juncture
before the brain has a puncture
simply BBFN, lest I
BBS or BBIAB or BBIAF
[thankfully this isn't a test]

like WCA
(Who Cares Anyway)
but you'd remark WAI
(and thats I for Idiot)
let out a long distance sigh
wave the imaginary fist
at the youth of yesteryear

all you'd get back was
Wicked Evil Grin
(WEG) for a
Wild *** Guess
(WAG);
a WEG for a WAG
and a PDQ x 2

would be the sum parts of the conversation
between me and you

if language and words and meaning was lost
if acronyms and abbrieviations
in CAPS
was all that there was

*** smeared in ***
with APLS for the PMJI
TXT SPK has got me PML
when MHBFY and
M8s on a MOB crusade
AWOL and dizzy for the next API
MGB for your MF device
throw in some GALGAL logic
where GIGO will simply suffice
Warning: PAW and GJIAGDV
(where the latter is Volcano)
include your GF for some cuddly GBH
and some GHP if she says so

its T2Go
be positive with the T+
and all of that Text-Speak CUZ
I'll T2UL and T for your time,
I'll TAH on the whole TBC

next year i'll just slip in a £20 note
and simply write:
Happy Birthday
with LV
from me
I have a disdain for text-speak as a replacement for language but it seems the only way to converse with teenage cousins on mobile, so I wrote this in response to that.
chels May 2013
tbc
Day 126:

I can't keep up with the length of your hair. I can't remember if we shook our right hands or our left. I still haven't fixed the collar on your shirt because I hung it up in the back of my closet.

Day 127:

The smell of you is fading from me, faster than that sand slipping through my fingers when we went to the beach for the Fourth of July. You walked away without a sunburn.
chels Jun 2013
You said we were like the Sun and the Moon.
And I agreed, as long as I got to be the Moon
But soon I realized that,
with you as the Sun,
I didn't get to see you too often.
I got sick of your company only becoming
time spent passing each other throughout the day.
I got tired of other people falling in love with how beautiful you were;
I was young,
jealous.
People never fell in love with me.
CLStewart Apr 2015
tbc
Off I go to the shroud of cover, in a deep far off avenue where body salts melt and white turns to black,

misread, misinterpreted and enjoyed by others @ my own expense.
sunshine, seashells and peppercorn bits
Carl Webb II Dec 2018
how do insecurities creep inside
at our most powerful moments?

how does weakness get through power?
is it not just weakness?

how does sunshine get through rain?
well, is it not just sunshine?

can rainy times not provide a bit of power?
is it not, still, just a little rain?

is it not, still, just a little aitch-two-oh?
do we not, still, need it to survive?

does the rain just not provide?
does the sunshine not provide, too?

do we not need both to stay alive?

again, I will ask you,
how does weakness get through power?

is it not still weakness?
is it not still power over all?
are they both not necessary?
do we not need both of them together?

maybe 'why' would be the better.

why does weakness get through power?
does it not know . . . how to be a
weakness?
what?

no, why, why does the weakness have the
ability to push its way through walls of power?
that's not possible! . . . right?
how??

yes, how, how does the weakness have
the strength to stop the power from doing its job . . .
how does it know what to do to counteract power, at will?
is it not just weakness, still?

is it not just weakness . . . still . . .
why does weakness have the power . . . ?

yes, why does the weakness have power . . .
how does the weakness devour . . .
how can the weakness be wolfish . . .
how can the weakness over power . . .

how can the "weak" get through the "powerful" . . . I ask you . . .

[tbc]
Auroleus Jul 2016
There's ghosts up in the gears 'n sprockets
hosts of locusts fear the prophets
preachin' reachin' for the sky
on the morrow we may die
~
I pray to trees n bumble bees
on my kneeses **** a jesus
his death was probably in vain
just wash that **** away with rain
~
shaqila Aug 2013
Time cries for no one
A mystery i think time is
Seconds, minutes, hours, days, .....
It continues without a care in the world

We plan and plant and wait and harvest
Then, we do it all over again
With time, we move on and on
There is no pause, only continuum

Time cries for no one
People pass on, pets pass on
Life recycles
Poets philosophize
Philosophers ponder
Sounds pointless, all of these
It's an adventure, almost predestined
A web of feelings
This is life, they say
This is life...
TBC, forever
TBC - to be continued
TBC
But do I really see them when I'm traveling on the central line?
do I really take the time to take a look?

The window cleaner logo man
reads a book and jammed up next to him is a lady looking very grim,
she's watching me watching him and he's unaware,
but probably in that zone cleaning windows and feeling right at home.

Lots of buns as well
Victorians must have
saved a fortune on hair gel.

Pearl earrings is not a singer
it's what young girl is
wearing
and not an oyster in sight.

People
there's such a large variety
and I only see what I
want to see
if only I could look a
little deeper.

Jarndyce gets off at
Chancery lane
his case comes up after
the crown
versus Abel or is it Cain?

I'm wandering in the inns
but it's time to get out.

Morning Holbein
or it might be
Holborn
I'm just
mooving on.
Debra Lea Ryan Dec 2016
Rose Without Thorns
You Are  Kissed
By The Sun
A Beautiful Flower
I Truly love.

Rosa senza spine
Si sono baciati
Dal sole
Un bel fiore
Amo veramente.


DLR
03/12/2016
TBC
Allan Pangilinan Feb 2016
I
Opened the pandora's box
Yet
Again.
This time I know I will be Stronger.
Aggression,
Assertion.
tbc
will write a poem series which will be numbered 'I' to whatever I reach
Luna Oct 2017
TbC
It's scary to feel alone
But more scary to feel alone
With someone
With friends and family
She's swept under an old rug
Dust particles dance in the wind
And the rhythms dont match
Her clothes neither
Some odd denim jeans
And a torn shirt
She hated new
And embraced the old
Experience and wisdom
Like an owl calling out
From it's perch
DarkDepriment Apr 2014
The forest was dark and shallow
As I strolled through it
Nature pulling me deep in

There was not one
Injured bone in my body
but I still felt broken

I heard a loud cracking noise
To the left of my direction
A stick broken in half of some sort

I stopped walking to listen because I heard it again
And darkness was no longer in my vision anymore
But there standing in front of me
Was a 9 foot tall white wolf
With piercing green eyes...

(TBC)
Peppy Miller Dec 2013
Grieving is a word that invokes many thoughts. It is similar to grave, one has dug for themselves or one that another is lowered into. Commence: the place and time of grieving. Along with it there comes a muted gray feeling. Like you cannot breathe in the air because it is ridden with smog and toxins that allow only shallow gasps. It is heavy and it is surrounding. Then comes the catalyst for the action. It is a loss, it is a hole, it is something that once was but now ceases. Then once it has gone, we find ourselves alone with our thoughts again. Can grieving occur over something that has yet to happen? I think it must be something that is done post and not pre. The loss can minuscule or grand, there are spectrums present in just about everything. The loss could be of a personality trait or of running water. It could be the loss of a friendship or loss of land. I had the pleasure of driving through the mountains recently, and I found that the mountains are grieving. There are faces resting in the rock, saddened by the diminishing countryside.  tbc
Otter Sep 2012
18.
you gotta look through the pain.
you gotta look through it all.

...tbc.
amber girl May 2015
Thoughts are disturbing they keep burning
the wheels keep turning my feeling keep urning
why do I battle myself?
why don't I just let it go?
I get so ****** and I want to scream
I want to be mean but I'm a fein
does anyone know what I mean?
I'm a sucker a *******
I'm under cover to hide the freak that I am with one another
a blunder
terrible like the worst thunder
I have discovered
I'm nothing like my mother and
it makes me wonder
am I a hunter?
I could go on forever..tbc...
nivek Jun 2017
the white chalk hills softened my boyhood games
rolling over and over in lush green fields
where snakes and lizards slept content in the Sun
and we hunters lifting discarded corrugated iron sheets
caught sight of creatures both fascinating and strange.
Other creatures, Hedgehogs we would feed bread drenched in milk,
and shepherd down gardens where all gardeners were asleep, to places better for them, so we thought in our rebellious minds.
Bees also nesting deep in the earth, we challenged by setting light to the entrance to their hive and acted surprise on the morn when hundreds of angry Bees filled everywhere. Boys indeed will be boys, and being totally ignorant of girls to learn many decades gone by that Julie your best mates sister always thought that you and her would be married and live a long shared life together. tbc.
IndiGo Dec 2015
growing up I never knew that the only color visible to me would be blue.
How can there be colors if we're all blue? The harsh realities of life, stress and anxiety creates that hue.
Although my mind is in a cluster,
I cant help but to wonder,
why did I rush to become this ?The thoughts I had of my life were past lavish.
Blue is the only color I see
As if my thoughts are the sea. I try to drown my fears & anxiety , but they can swim & no one told me. Why did I try to do such a thing? Now all they do is haunt me & bring me pain and romp & disturb my soul.
For God's sake I'm too young to be feeling this old. Take me back to the glory days, I miss how things used to be. Back in the days when I had a family. And by my side-
grammy.
Take me back to the glory days when only innocent thoughts would rave -
in my mind. Those were the glory times.
How did I become to this state when all I see is blue ?
I know I wear glasses, but tell me do I need new eyes too?
Trivial times, I'm facing head - head. "Nothing matters , yet everything matters." I said. My feelings, anxiety and stress ahead cant **** me if i'm already dead.
I want to change my perspective. I want to see other hues. I wish I had someone that could change my life from this blue.
tbc... // (g.m)
Colm Aug 2019
As a lover says I will return
Just before the extended loss of stay
Be it echoed over mountains past
Or etched in stillness contemplation
The tongue in all of its self-proclaimed wisdom
Finds no words less, no more deserving
Then the faithful say
And cry on high
Saying Maranatha – Maybe today

TBC
To Be Continued
Is it I who hold myself back
and if it is I,
why?

I stagnate
at a snail's pace
because any faster and I might
believe the spin
about how easy it is to fit
right in and make my contribution
to evolution or some such,

in a thousand years
when archaeologists dig my bones up
to have a look
they'll think,
'what the *** is this?'
Pictures of Emily
I see..
Pictures of Emily
To me..
..It's the place where I want to be.
I'm free..
In Pictures of Emily.

... She tries to call to me..
I hear.
I know that my Emily is near..
But the words that she wants to say..
They won't appear..
Just pictures of Emily....tbc.

This could be a great song...any takers?
To the love I never had
With a drink in my hand
Although the days were never bad
And enemies never glad
I'll still be sad
Even if only by a tad
For the love I never ever had
Nyasha Chibi Jun 2016
Have you ever seen a dead body?
Pictures from my aunts Christmas party
Everyone had a blast, pretending it was all for charity
Not me, troubles on my mind
I don’t usually go out chasing after crime
But tonight I just might
Sinister me sinister look
I had never felt so fine
So when I ran into her
And he smiled whilst tossing me aside
I just knew how thin that line was
And they say knowing is half the battle
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
I had practically won, but I still rattled them a bit
So your daddy fought in Nam and you in where?
Show some mettle, it’s also my first time
Please take care of me I wish, hahahaha
So your girlfriend is a bit noisy
Oops cat bit its tongue, oh daisy
Now she can’t talk not from the lack of trying no.
She just keeps gagging on her blood
And Private Ryan’s no fun
It was going to be either him or her
But now his regressed and stuck in baby mode
While she’s pretending to be a fish out of the water
Well you know what they say,
One man’s food is another man’s garbage
And I have never been known to blow my own trumpet
So, boy’s night out!
We started with the nails,
Oh what wonderful nails he didn’t have
He screamed all night in amazement
I had outdone myself, I was impressed
Then I got annoyed so I cut his tongue out
Replaced it with his dead girlfriends
Sewed back on like it was never removed
Then sewed his mouth shut
Now he could taste his girlfriend
Wherever he went,
Or maybe his girlfriend could taste him even in death
Genius I thought to myself as I prepared for an emergency op
Tbc.
Johnnie Alvarado Jun 2017
It was an autumn morning we sat at the restaurant for a roasted cup of coffee. You could feel the fresh leaves as they fell softly on the ground. The fresh air had a distinguished scent. The wind had been windier than other days. It had been drizzling a bit. They sat there and they exchanged a few words quite casually. They sat there listening to Adele - Love song. She had been carefully listening to the instruments which were being played. She enjoyed the accordion which was his favourite instrument too. He said for some reason he had a Déjà Vu and it was somewhere in France, Paris. She asked him had we ever met in the past life? He stuttered as he did not know what to say. He looked into her eyes and she looked into his eyes. He saw her eyes sparkle, you could tell she was in love they were full of joy, there was a certain light inside them that he could not comprehend and that's what fascinated him about them, they were full of mischievousness. But one could see that life had been abusive towards her. She saw the innocence of a child when she looked into his eyes. She could not comprehend what came to rip out that youthful innocence out of him. All of a sudden a black shadow of emerged. There was silence. TBC
J Lee Aug 2016
This is no longer just poetry its a lifeline.
I'm afraid too loose this little motivation.
Always on the hunt for a little more time....
searching wandering
looking to the skies
Birds they repeat the lies.
Do you even believe in yourself anymore
Faithless
Hopeless
Follow the skies, to open your dead eyes.

TBC...
Maria Etre May 2016
There was so much in our bodies
that they lost balance
and found themselves entwined
tangled legs on messy sheets
sideways far from bed frames

Senses heightened, sobriety abandoned
She's on top, her view was powerful
his view was magical, his goddess

TBC ...
Quinchet Dec 2015
Who am I

I loose sight to often in this life.

Caught up in past lives
Feelings and Soul ties.

Giving my mind more to ponder inside.
Twists and turns thoughts go leaping astray

Living in the moment is light years away.

Until awoken to the words I hear myself..

TBC

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Sometimes I want to crawl out of my own skin. My body craves what my soul tries to cleanse. I can be my own worst enemy. It's like a team of destruction in my head the best thing I can do is go to bed. My mind can't keep up with the knowledge that it's feed. My understanding is based on a sensory and pretty much it's how you adapt to me...
D
    R
        O
            P
Lines.
           Drop.
                       •Rhymes•Drop•
                               •Beats•
                        •Music•Energy•
                  ­          •Creativity•
Michael John Oct 2023
lily wobbles about a shelf-
-what about this?
¨the fascination of whats difficult
has dried the sap out of my veins,and rent
spontaneous joy and natural content
out of my heart-¨
wb yeats..

(-at the heart there can be a
tiny acre of simplicity, a humble-
ness of everyman within a child
plays happily-)

what do think
paul dirac?
you think work
keeps us young
what is difficult holds enduring
fascination beginning when
you crawled along-picking
up dust and formulating-
mummy´s pride and joy..

lily smokes circles and
throws her docs on the table..
let me tell you paul
of my auntie mable..tbc..
David J Sep 2020
jazz-tone keys on chords for backup

I wish I had a tounge of silver thread
Creating silky landscapes with every word thats said
Weaving rhymes into smooth glittering bars
While My tone, like an accompaniment of  jazzy guitars
8 fields of vision always seeing whats ahead
Setting up shimmering lines while your being misled
Creep down the bridge gettin ready to pounce
Then drop in with a solo
makin everybody bounce
proced to absolutley shred on sax*

-tbc-
Ill probably wright more later.
Was feelin like writing, didnt expect a song tho. To tired to finish haha.
I really like how its sounding in my head so far tho.

— The End —