Cynical-Optimist - Hello Poetry

Who was your ******* rock? The one you relied on when others relied on you? I was the keystone who kept you together and kept the others together unbeknownst to them. I was the bandage sealing the wound from the bacteria of the world, from the ill thoughts and mean-spirited things of the world. I was your ******* crutch that supported you and helped you stand upright in this world. But just like a crutch, like a bandage, I was discarded once the problem was summarily handled. I hope you bleed out next time.

0

Apr 18, 2018

Apr 18, 2018 at 8:53 PM UTC

I served my purpose I guess

Who was your ******* rock? The one you relied on when others relied on you? I was the keystone who kept you together and kept the others together unbeknownst to them. I was the bandage sealing the wound from the bacteria of the world, from the ill thoughts and mean-spirited things of the world. I was your ******* crutch that supported you and helped you stand upright in this world. But just like a crutch, like a bandage, I was discarded once the problem was summarily handled. I hope you bleed out next time.

1

This poem is originally written by my favorite poet, Charles Bukowski. . they're not going to let you sit at a front table at some cafe in Europe in the mid-afternoon sun. if you do, somebody's going to drive by and spray your guts with a submachine gun. they're not going to let you feel good for very long anywhere. the forces aren't going to let you sit around fucking-off and relaxing. you've got to go their way. the unhappy, the bitter and the vengeful need their fix - which is you or somebody anybody in agony, or better yet dead, dropped into some hole. as long as there are humans about there is never going to be any peace for any individual upon this earth or anywhere else they might escape to. all you can do is maybe grab ten lucky minutes here or maybe an hour there. something is working toward you right now, and I mean you and nobody but you.

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Oct 9, 2017

Oct 9, 2017 at 7:26 PM UTC

Restless as the tarantula

This poem is originally written by my favorite poet, Charles Bukowski. . they're not going to let you sit at a front table at some cafe in Europe in the mid-afternoon sun. if you do, somebody's going to drive by and spray your guts with a submachine gun. they're not going to let you feel good for very long anywhere. the forces aren't going to let you sit around fucking-off and relaxing. you've got to go their way. the unhappy, the bitter and the vengeful need their fix - which is you or somebody anybody in agony, or better yet dead, dropped into some hole. as long as there are humans about there is never going to be any peace for any individual upon this earth or anywhere else they might escape to. all you can do is maybe grab ten lucky minutes here or maybe an hour there. something is working toward you right now, and I mean you and nobody but you.

50

I want you in all of my life From the extraordinary To the extra-ordinary

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Sep 14, 2017

Sep 14, 2017 at 11:55 PM UTC

It's always been you

I want you in all of my life From the extraordinary To the extra-ordinary

3

For a few months time I kept a poetry notebook Always by my side. When I would write about Something happy and positive It would be written on the next page from the front of my notebook. When I would write about Something sad and somber or negative I would write it on the next page from the back of my notebook. It almost seemed like a competition then Which would fill up my pages first? Joy or sorrow? Now and then I still take that notebook Thumb it open And examine its pages. The only difference is That now my happiness Is written on my face In the form of a smile And you are the author Who placed it there.

0

Sep 3, 2017

Sep 3, 2017 at 1:52 PM UTC

The author of my happiness

For a few months time I kept a poetry notebook Always by my side. When I would write about Something happy and positive It would be written on the next page from the front of my notebook. When I would write about Something sad and somber or negative I would write it on the next page from the back of my notebook. It almost seemed like a competition then Which would fill up my pages first? Joy or sorrow? Now and then I still take that notebook Thumb it open And examine its pages. The only difference is That now my happiness Is written on my face In the form of a smile And you are the author Who placed it there.

21

To those hidden under blankets, huddled close to their lovers: There are some among us who are wrapped in blankets of our own tears. To those who purse their lips in a smile as soft melodies floating through the air lull you to sleep: There are those of us who write sleepless lullabies on our arms with the sharp embrace of the blade, our only comfort.

0

Aug 21, 2017

Aug 21, 2017 at 4:35 PM UTC

In the night

To those hidden under blankets, huddled close to their lovers: There are some among us who are wrapped in blankets of our own tears. To those who purse their lips in a smile as soft melodies floating through the air lull you to sleep: There are those of us who write sleepless lullabies on our arms with the sharp embrace of the blade, our only comfort.

4

It was only just about four months ago That a girl from Canada I'd never met Would steal my heart, a love so whole My emotions skyrocketing, love so sure Was followed soon thereafter With silence and the void Hearing nothing, not even a whisper She has seemingly disappeared Back to the nothingness she came from.

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Jul 22, 2017

Jul 22, 2017 at 5:20 PM UTC

Four months and a girl from Canada

It was only just about four months ago That a girl from Canada I'd never met Would steal my heart, a love so whole My emotions skyrocketing, love so sure Was followed soon thereafter With silence and the void Hearing nothing, not even a whisper She has seemingly disappeared Back to the nothingness she came from.

9

We as writers have the ability to do many things. We know how to change the tenses of many different words, Such as love becoming had loved And together becomes we were together. We have the knowledge to change things From the affirmative to the negative, Such as we’re in love To she isn’t in love Or she is always by my side To I rarely see her anymore. We can combine the two To change something that is happening To something that might have never even happened, Such as how will always be in love Changes to were we ever in love? And how I love you Could be flipped to ask Didn’t you ever love me?

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Jul 7, 2017

Jul 7, 2017 at 12:16 AM UTC

WRITERS

We as writers have the ability to do many things. We know how to change the tenses of many different words, Such as love becoming had loved And together becomes we were together. We have the knowledge to change things From the affirmative to the negative, Such as we’re in love To she isn’t in love Or she is always by my side To I rarely see her anymore. We can combine the two To change something that is happening To something that might have never even happened, Such as how will always be in love Changes to were we ever in love? And how I love you Could be flipped to ask Didn’t you ever love me?

18

I had to talk another person out of it last night. When will the world learn Not to encourage such behavior?

0

Jun 13, 2017

Jun 13, 2017 at 7:57 AM UTC

Suicide

I had to talk another person out of it last night. When will the world learn Not to encourage such behavior?

4

I have often been criticized for my seeming lack of motivation and drive But I am content with celebrating beauty as it enters the world And mourning the same beauty as it leaves this world.

0

Jun 10, 2017

Jun 10, 2017 at 3:21 PM UTC

My tranquility

I have often been criticized for my seeming lack of motivation and drive But I am content with celebrating beauty as it enters the world And mourning the same beauty as it leaves this world.

3

When madnesses o'er takes me I shall watch the world burn in the light of your eyes.

0

Jun 7, 2017

Jun 7, 2017 at 11:33 AM UTC

My true love

When madnesses o'er takes me I shall watch the world burn in the light of your eyes.

2