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TomAlanQuest
19/M
In my chest I bring a pain Which in time accept As a stubborn implant Right in my right chest This pain knows not where it beats Nor does it come from near here But it pulses deeply through And it almost sounds like you In the timbre of its screams That vibrate the thorax And puncture when you weep I live memories of sites Yet it is here she belongs now Whatever was once made of her And even if she’s not aware And even if you’re not yet aware I am: It lives in my right chest What a patron stepmother Crude lioness heart Synchronic pounding in negative resounds The **** acute pain Of this machine I carry Implanted, conflated, pointy I imported it from our nights And stares traded in summertime Iris tinged with shavings from the sun Cut up from the negatives of the blinds And in negative pounding Conducting in this right chest of mine This implant of torment Torment and own delicate shine So delicate it may take the torment and make At times: simple discomfort Others: a happy life in a moment And who may be source of this pain Of this heart in negative Creating only torment And what gorgeous torment Which at worse discomforts At best resuscitates my life in a moment And turns me back to us This pain and anguish In adolescent torpor Unrealising you made of Me the glad recipient Where to grow and lodge Like the lost bullet in time That naked ****** universe Formed into material emotion Animal biological material That from this story I have with you Gives anxiety during bed time Your anxiety But that pounds in negative As the now accepted implant When it comes dark longing Of us not seeing what is to come It’s just that here in pain and everything Beats content from imperfection So beautiful and sinistral In mine deep dextral chest Your youthful beating heart
0
Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 10:34 PM UTC
Pain in the right chest
In my chest I bring a pain Which in time accept As a stubborn implant Right in my right chest This pain knows not where it beats Nor does it come from near here But it pulses deeply through And it almost sounds like you In the timbre of its screams That vibrate the thorax And puncture when you weep I live memories of sites Yet it is here she belongs now Whatever was once made of her And even if she’s not aware And even if you’re not yet aware I am: It lives in my right chest What a patron stepmother Crude lioness heart Synchronic pounding in negative resounds The **** acute pain Of this machine I carry Implanted, conflated, pointy I imported it from our nights And stares traded in summertime Iris tinged with shavings from the sun Cut up from the negatives of the blinds And in negative pounding Conducting in this right chest of mine This implant of torment Torment and own delicate shine So delicate it may take the torment and make At times: simple discomfort Others: a happy life in a moment And who may be source of this pain Of this heart in negative Creating only torment And what gorgeous torment Which at worse discomforts At best resuscitates my life in a moment And turns me back to us This pain and anguish In adolescent torpor Unrealising you made of Me the glad recipient Where to grow and lodge Like the lost bullet in time That naked ****** universe Formed into material emotion Animal biological material That from this story I have with you Gives anxiety during bed time Your anxiety But that pounds in negative As the now accepted implant When it comes dark longing Of us not seeing what is to come It’s just that here in pain and everything Beats content from imperfection So beautiful and sinistral In mine deep dextral chest Your youthful beating heart
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63
We seat beneath the candlelight drops As we teach each other our story I’m compelled to let the words out I’m here to grow us up Way before our candle was kindled Way before light roamed any sky Some force was forced to say We either grow Or we die In dying we are warm and modestSpheres of chaotic comfort Unchallenged ponds With nothing to defy Yes, before the molten world Was turned to rock And then weathered away In little strife Someone was compelled to say In life We either grow Or we die In growing we have a hard time Because all bigger growing Means greater dying Whenever the growing halts Way before the sun warmed your cheek Other synergies were brought to a stop Before my hand reached your velvet streak Other supernovas contracted outIs my slight tucking away of your hair Broadening your face for a slap? Because someone wise Surely wiser than me once said In love We either grow Or we die As any one-celled world Was forged into a rightful cosmos It might have been us Or a treacherous cancerOr all three In all our power we could remain powerless, you see?… Could this candlelight pool Where we gain our room to swim Be dripping from a toll from over the brim Where a fire was set aflame Through wax lines untamed Of our locked stares Through time and space and mind Could it all be the same Is our room to swim Room to revolve away Is our manner poured in wax A giant candle from which We see But also the fervent sight We must somehow keep in mind Whenever the coming darkness Grows us blind Whereas now all I seeIs a sentient mirror smiling at me… Compass with me for a second What this all means Is I don’t want our death right away Nor do I want it any way And in growing up myselfI grow us up in part And in growing up in part We might just grow apart Our candlelight might fizz out Our death might, in pain, Come anyway. But I’m willing to give it a try Our candlelight, our sight Are, in turn, A great light to photograph And a great memory to hold… Beneath the hourglass wax drops We teach In teaching we learn Through embracing we love And the silent tug that follows…Is where I’m willing to belong.
0
May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 11:09 PM UTC
Love Of Wax
We seat beneath the candlelight drops As we teach each other our story I’m compelled to let the words out I’m here to grow us up Way before our candle was kindled Way before light roamed any sky Some force was forced to say We either grow Or we die In dying we are warm and modestSpheres of chaotic comfort Unchallenged ponds With nothing to defy Yes, before the molten world Was turned to rock And then weathered away In little strife Someone was compelled to say In life We either grow Or we die In growing we have a hard time Because all bigger growing Means greater dying Whenever the growing halts Way before the sun warmed your cheek Other synergies were brought to a stop Before my hand reached your velvet streak Other supernovas contracted outIs my slight tucking away of your hair Broadening your face for a slap? Because someone wise Surely wiser than me once said In love We either grow Or we die As any one-celled world Was forged into a rightful cosmos It might have been us Or a treacherous cancerOr all three In all our power we could remain powerless, you see?… Could this candlelight pool Where we gain our room to swim Be dripping from a toll from over the brim Where a fire was set aflame Through wax lines untamed Of our locked stares Through time and space and mind Could it all be the same Is our room to swim Room to revolve away Is our manner poured in wax A giant candle from which We see But also the fervent sight We must somehow keep in mind Whenever the coming darkness Grows us blind Whereas now all I seeIs a sentient mirror smiling at me… Compass with me for a second What this all means Is I don’t want our death right away Nor do I want it any way And in growing up myselfI grow us up in part And in growing up in part We might just grow apart Our candlelight might fizz out Our death might, in pain, Come anyway. But I’m willing to give it a try Our candlelight, our sight Are, in turn, A great light to photograph And a great memory to hold… Beneath the hourglass wax drops We teach In teaching we learn Through embracing we love And the silent tug that follows…Is where I’m willing to belong.
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76
I, tired synecdoches For exhausted sadness. I, fragmented animus, (……….)Stilled air in a mutiny, (……….)Sent afloat from mine eye. I, aimless bounty Missing bligh. (……….)I, nimble crumbs, (……….)Too mouldy and dry To be scraped off the floor Into bins, out of sight. I, Too perilless, Too stagnant To die. (I, tired)
0
Apr 9, 2018
Apr 9, 2018 at 10:09 PM UTC
I
There was never such readiness In the eyes of her lover To run. Fragile Rose was never such To make a lover mad So why. Rose couldn't predict the wet patch On the cobblestone she walked on The cold-shoulder of life is flat for her. "There is no dragon" A few months ago "There is no such thing as a dragon" Rose meant it Yet her lover left all the same As the aging dragon would But there was no dragon she assured And the dragon said "?" "There is no such thing as a dragon" Lover might as well be deranged Who would do this to her Who would have the audacity Alone and half covered in blood Rose spoke, half covered in water "There is no such thing as a dragon" And the creature concurred Growing three more scales.
0
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 10:52 PM UTC
Dragon
Oh, I've been thinking Mostly about this, about us. Fate brought me here. Chaos brought me here. They are one of the same. So as we are the same of both. The mates of soul. Through time And its sheer I see: Chaos brought me here. Through mental planes Stuck in bliss disorderly As the cookies inside A grocery bag Airborne and otherly Like an odd reverse oracle, I backsee through all the fear: Chaos brought me here. Ought not to be afraid now. I used to be lost. Amongst the Maelström I stood. Not now. Not myself most. Now's the time to not know how To disappear- And with my tear-hunting smile, Bewitched by the longest lost peer I see What is only shown to the luckiest Seer, I see: Chaos brought me here. Yet it's no longer within me.
0
Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 11:00 PM UTC
CHAOS
There’s something in your magnetism. I’d love to find that out. Maybe some other day, my love, or should I say not? Because today I’m not in the mood. I’ll need a good wash, a lonely walk and a snack Perhaps some thoughts of happiness to invade my head And conquer my horizon. There’s something in your pull that stops time in its tracks. It keeps past at bay with all the unfaded memories. May them strangle my future, Or take it charmingly astray Along the lines of gross idealism. I hope I stay not here. There’s something in it, I can tell. Whatever, how far, or how many moments whizzed by. The hold of your gaze was meant to pierce through. All the rules and casts we put ourselves in. Yours, my love, or should I say not? Was the only iron lung I look forward to.
0
Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 10:57 PM UTC
Iron Lung
Could I stop to think I would Could I write a verse slower Could I discover my own mistakes Could I love the stillness of our moments I would Could I bring myself to the forefront of my own time Could I grapple timelines I would Could I stop your suffering Could I know the full extent Could I box my inner demons I would Could I compass the whole world in a time-lapse Could I analyse for the sake of bringing time to its knees and bring yourself closer to me Could I feel I would Could I be reasonless and pure Could I cuddle your expectations Could I brake past’s shackles I would Could I show you what I write and let yourself in the absolutely grudgeful dread of madness my mind persists on being for the sake of dying someday Could I find the hero in me like once we both knew and let him fight these battles for me while I relax for the both of the three of us in our love of itself and our life on its own and expectations grown to ideas grown to lived experience and maybe die alongside you maybe grow myself out of this looping madness we know it’s madness so why keep it up when I actually had foreseen it all I think it was it at least what I saw was suffering and I’m pretty sure this is suffering I’m feeling and if it’s not it still hurts I can tell you and I don’t know what I hate more if it’s me or if it’s you which it certainly isn’t or entropy itself with all its cruel apathy before our issues you must surely know by now I’m not functional so why won’t you just leave me alone and why won’t I let you go I don’t know but I just can’t I just can’t I just won’t so let me tell you once and for all Could I solve myself I would Could I let you free Could I grant all your needs Could I be who I promised to be I promise I would
0
Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 10:54 PM UTC
I Would
Could I stop to think I would Could I write a verse slower Could I discover my own mistakes Could I love the stillness of our moments I would Could I bring myself to the forefront of my own time Could I grapple timelines I would Could I stop your suffering Could I know the full extent Could I box my inner demons I would Could I compass the whole world in a time-lapse Could I analyse for the sake of bringing time to its knees and bring yourself closer to me Could I feel I would Could I be reasonless and pure Could I cuddle your expectations Could I brake past’s shackles I would Could I show you what I write and let yourself in the absolutely grudgeful dread of madness my mind persists on being for the sake of dying someday Could I find the hero in me like once we both knew and let him fight these battles for me while I relax for the both of the three of us in our love of itself and our life on its own and expectations grown to ideas grown to lived experience and maybe die alongside you maybe grow myself out of this looping madness we know it’s madness so why keep it up when I actually had foreseen it all I think it was it at least what I saw was suffering and I’m pretty sure this is suffering I’m feeling and if it’s not it still hurts I can tell you and I don’t know what I hate more if it’s me or if it’s you which it certainly isn’t or entropy itself with all its cruel apathy before our issues you must surely know by now I’m not functional so why won’t you just leave me alone and why won’t I let you go I don’t know but I just can’t I just can’t I just won’t so let me tell you once and for all Could I solve myself I would Could I let you free Could I grant all your needs Could I be who I promised to be I promise I would
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26
I heard a tale once Of vapid medium matrix And taut smiley convolutes A tale which embarked me At that time Yet gave me no notion of its truer Nature You see The ocean has no currents when you’re under You see You don’t see into your own eyes very often You see But the many yous that make a lifespan up Can see you and make you see through There is a tremblesome youngster in all of us The one which makes crusaderies bearable And laughter cramps quotidian gamblers The breathtaken gasping-at-everything Taken aback little idiot with the Thunder in his belly And the crawls below her skin And the overhead waves Evermore crashed within Yes my meek teen rally Once a half-contrived sin Once my part bright moon Of a solitary kin Comes in all of us it seems And we make up threads of social For the fabric of our culture That we start to weave adawn Yet at dawn we are not there With a full grown self aware And at the solar peak of glare We are still too young to care Then at scarlet tap of dusk Still a bit too tough to bare Last at midnight we are gripped With the fullest conscient gaze So we can all marvel upon How much oxygen we waste In this marvellous endeavour I think though it’s for the better And I’ve slowly learned to praise All the veiling in this system Of Born Dead Then Raised Then Very Dead What I mean is there’s some Wise In the grinds of our Ways How Ethereum with potential Gets palpable and cased Because then we can all be With the hardship of adult And the vestige of a kid And then we get to die To get it over with… But wait I still have something A little more positive to say Like the first person on Mars Is likely still a kid So when we get to Mars We’ll still float in that kid If you feel trapped in the smiley And depressed and yesterdated Version of yourself It means you still have all The other phases ahead Yet it might not still be quite As freely as you’re expecting That your form will excavate Through life’s cruel winding Not all of us will get To float our kid to Mars Yes, you’ll get it All Oh yes, you’ll get to try But in the end, my friend You’ll be glad you get to die.
0
Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 10:46 PM UTC
Letter From Me To Teen Me
I heard a tale once Of vapid medium matrix And taut smiley convolutes A tale which embarked me At that time Yet gave me no notion of its truer Nature You see The ocean has no currents when you’re under You see You don’t see into your own eyes very often You see But the many yous that make a lifespan up Can see you and make you see through There is a tremblesome youngster in all of us The one which makes crusaderies bearable And laughter cramps quotidian gamblers The breathtaken gasping-at-everything Taken aback little idiot with the Thunder in his belly And the crawls below her skin And the overhead waves Evermore crashed within Yes my meek teen rally Once a half-contrived sin Once my part bright moon Of a solitary kin Comes in all of us it seems And we make up threads of social For the fabric of our culture That we start to weave adawn Yet at dawn we are not there With a full grown self aware And at the solar peak of glare We are still too young to care Then at scarlet tap of dusk Still a bit too tough to bare Last at midnight we are gripped With the fullest conscient gaze So we can all marvel upon How much oxygen we waste In this marvellous endeavour I think though it’s for the better And I’ve slowly learned to praise All the veiling in this system Of Born Dead Then Raised Then Very Dead What I mean is there’s some Wise In the grinds of our Ways How Ethereum with potential Gets palpable and cased Because then we can all be With the hardship of adult And the vestige of a kid And then we get to die To get it over with… But wait I still have something A little more positive to say Like the first person on Mars Is likely still a kid So when we get to Mars We’ll still float in that kid If you feel trapped in the smiley And depressed and yesterdated Version of yourself It means you still have all The other phases ahead Yet it might not still be quite As freely as you’re expecting That your form will excavate Through life’s cruel winding Not all of us will get To float our kid to Mars Yes, you’ll get it All Oh yes, you’ll get to try But in the end, my friend You’ll be glad you get to die.
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79
I walk my life, a subway station Where dirt consorts The air around. It pounds my nape, It flames my mind With sights and fates And sounds. Above, a tram goes up the alley Tinged with canary hue. Below, my wit: What void, what valley: It sank, in Tagus mused. I take a seat, doors screech behind. O, what wondrous whiffs? Of metal beams Attriting loudly Against metal wheels? To a halt it cuts my chain of thought, Rivals my dream, they brawl. 'Tis from the gallery Of broken hope The beggar man crawls. Intemperate horns his entry announce, Dysphoric scenes aground. He comes detuned Near clears his throat, Lethargic voice resounds: I beat my cane In wrongful rhythm, 'Cause wrongful Was my life. My voice hurts from All this singing: 'Twas morphed into A sigh. I longed, I longed For all my sinning Was ought to be repaid. Deserved so much, God took my Will, my sight, My love, my Name. So tell me, vagrant, What did He take? -Said I- Who has loved you? What is your will, What name did you go by? I used to be a man of soul Whose heart beat strong and dign, I used to write And then I died On the 10th before July. He took my coins for all my service At wars: At land At sea -The waves still have her, Laying there still, Waiting away from me!- Said he- I will my love, My fire, passion -My young Natercia!- Most darling of all nymphaea! So God is just after all, Replacing sin with grief. No need for me To pay the man: God has done the deed. The deadbeat coins of his cup Turmoil ever so slightly. I leave my dream, Doors shrill again: 'Tis time to end my journey.
0
Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 9:27 PM UTC
Begging For Lisbon
I walk my life, a subway station Where dirt consorts The air around. It pounds my nape, It flames my mind With sights and fates And sounds. Above, a tram goes up the alley Tinged with canary hue. Below, my wit: What void, what valley: It sank, in Tagus mused. I take a seat, doors screech behind. O, what wondrous whiffs? Of metal beams Attriting loudly Against metal wheels? To a halt it cuts my chain of thought, Rivals my dream, they brawl. 'Tis from the gallery Of broken hope The beggar man crawls. Intemperate horns his entry announce, Dysphoric scenes aground. He comes detuned Near clears his throat, Lethargic voice resounds: I beat my cane In wrongful rhythm, 'Cause wrongful Was my life. My voice hurts from All this singing: 'Twas morphed into A sigh. I longed, I longed For all my sinning Was ought to be repaid. Deserved so much, God took my Will, my sight, My love, my Name. So tell me, vagrant, What did He take? -Said I- Who has loved you? What is your will, What name did you go by? I used to be a man of soul Whose heart beat strong and dign, I used to write And then I died On the 10th before July. He took my coins for all my service At wars: At land At sea -The waves still have her, Laying there still, Waiting away from me!- Said he- I will my love, My fire, passion -My young Natercia!- Most darling of all nymphaea! So God is just after all, Replacing sin with grief. No need for me To pay the man: God has done the deed. The deadbeat coins of his cup Turmoil ever so slightly. I leave my dream, Doors shrill again: 'Tis time to end my journey.
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76
Pulse of life cannot exist Without our concentric synergy Propelled about through the mist Devour me. I only ask My bubble-gum My evening hum If not asking too much Do tear this shear I only need your touch To air out the fear And finally be. My lucky strike My gentle blaze Grape our love In nectar sweets Of gods’ haze And beaches’ breeze Seize me. Like I seize you In fragile devotion To memory. Yes, I commit To climbing your body Reaching summit. Day the night away This time With me. Our beams are one And so is our skin Harmonized in tone. My flicking harp My growing distance My grown apart Must show myself We’re not to be.   The more I write The more I feel With time’s cruel beat The less it’s real. Our waves still merge No opacity In added layers Of make believe. Between vibrations of me and paper Fractalized into being By doing simply The fruits of labour Define me. Yet it is our love That I most seek Through amassed mounts Of moments hissed. Our passion fix Was never real Nor blew away Nor meant to be. My skinny thorn My poison ivy Maybe anyway But if never worn This love will surely Through apathy Against my yearning Destroy me. But as I live So do we Then we’ll make plans But as I live Devour me.
0
Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 9:05 PM UTC
DEVOUR ME