anoncounselor - Hello Poetry

Even through all the eggs A reliable chicken can provide, The farmer still takes the knife For enough is never enough.

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Apr 12, 2016

Apr 12, 2016 at 4:58 PM UTC

Even through all the eggs A reliable chicken can provide, The farmer still takes the knife For enough is never enough.

To: Thomas Message: hey did u reed that bok bout Chauser cuz i didnt get it. Its jus 2 hard 2 read n i dont kno y we r doin this. I meen we r good @ talkin in our english so y r we reedin all of this ol **** Who needs it or even cares? Canterbury Tales? Mor lik #icantspellbarytails! LOL. its like 2 long but txt me bk cuz I dont get it n ned help 4 the test. TTYL, busy day sooo gotta g ~<3 Becky Sent at 2:00pm April 2, 2011

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Apr 12, 2016

Apr 12, 2016 at 4:54 PM UTC

"LOL"

To: Thomas Message: hey did u reed that bok bout Chauser cuz i didnt get it. Its jus 2 hard 2 read n i dont kno y we r doin this. I meen we r good @ talkin in our english so y r we reedin all of this ol **** Who needs it or even cares? Canterbury Tales? Mor lik #icantspellbarytails! LOL. its like 2 long but txt me bk cuz I dont get it n ned help 4 the test. TTYL, busy day sooo gotta g ~<3 Becky Sent at 2:00pm April 2, 2011

18

Your commitments and word Are inks stained on cold skin Taken without pain sacrificed, Easily washed away in water: Simple imitations... That at its essence Mock the sanctity and identity of actual tattoos.

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Apr 12, 2016

Apr 12, 2016 at 4:51 PM UTC

"Tattoos"

Your commitments and word Are inks stained on cold skin Taken without pain sacrificed, Easily washed away in water: Simple imitations... That at its essence Mock the sanctity and identity of actual tattoos.

8

If you build a wooden statue of my father, I will break it down to pieces to build a home and light a fire to warm my freezing wife. If you leave food offerings for my mother, I will collect and cook them to provide a feast that will feed my hungry son. If you commemorate a pond for my ancestors, I will draw multiple buckets to cleanse wounds and offer water to my thirsty daughter. If you ***** a golden statue in my memory, I will instruct my predecessors to smelt me down into small pieces and spread wealth to my family. If you wish to remember good souls and actions, celebrate them by giving to those in need.

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Apr 8, 2016

Apr 8, 2016 at 2:54 PM UTC

"If You Build a Wooden Statue of My Father"

If you build a wooden statue of my father, I will break it down to pieces to build a home and light a fire to warm my freezing wife. If you leave food offerings for my mother, I will collect and cook them to provide a feast that will feed my hungry son. If you commemorate a pond for my ancestors, I will draw multiple buckets to cleanse wounds and offer water to my thirsty daughter. If you ***** a golden statue in my memory, I will instruct my predecessors to smelt me down into small pieces and spread wealth to my family. If you wish to remember good souls and actions, celebrate them by giving to those in need.

14

On dusty, aging shelves rest countries of minds drying in paper jars: mummified in culture, embalmed in ink, reincarnated in conscience. Go forth! Adorn walls and altars to honor epitomes of thought: precise rhetoric of Socrates, vivid horrors of Dante, articulate utopias of Moore, cryptic lessons of Sa'di, heroic voices of Shakespeare--- all epiphanies of poets and projections in prose collected together. Yet if ignored and neglected, such wisdoms are wasted, and intellectual temples aimed to inspire and instruct remain silent, standing crypts.

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Apr 8, 2016

Apr 8, 2016 at 2:50 PM UTC

"Silent Within Standing Crypts"

On dusty, aging shelves rest countries of minds drying in paper jars: mummified in culture, embalmed in ink, reincarnated in conscience. Go forth! Adorn walls and altars to honor epitomes of thought: precise rhetoric of Socrates, vivid horrors of Dante, articulate utopias of Moore, cryptic lessons of Sa'di, heroic voices of Shakespeare--- all epiphanies of poets and projections in prose collected together. Yet if ignored and neglected, such wisdoms are wasted, and intellectual temples aimed to inspire and instruct remain silent, standing crypts.

21

To my child: In your rash attempts to fight and secure yourself a piece of the pie, I hope you may be patient and offer to those who have yet to taste it.

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Apr 7, 2016

Apr 7, 2016 at 1:48 AM UTC

"To My Child"

To my child: In your rash attempts to fight and secure yourself a piece of the pie, I hope you may be patient and offer to those who have yet to taste it.

7

Creativity flows like ink from a hose, stubbornly unbound, which claims precious photographs cut from one piece. And I pull the preferred, personal planes, folding them, twisting them, building them into paper frogs, before burning them in precise order to inhale their scent.

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Apr 7, 2016

Apr 7, 2016 at 1:46 AM UTC

"Writer's Block"

Creativity flows like ink from a hose, stubbornly unbound, which claims precious photographs cut from one piece. And I pull the preferred, personal planes, folding them, twisting them, building them into paper frogs, before burning them in precise order to inhale their scent.

15

"What must we endure?" Cried the naive child. "When must we endure?" Lamented the cynical adult. "How must we endure?" Worried the desperate parent. "Why must we endure?" Questioned the lazy innovator. "Whom must we endure?" Rallied by those who dodge the questions.

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Apr 7, 2016

Apr 7, 2016 at 1:44 AM UTC

"What Must We Endure?"

"What must we endure?" Cried the naive child. "When must we endure?" Lamented the cynical adult. "How must we endure?" Worried the desperate parent. "Why must we endure?" Questioned the lazy innovator. "Whom must we endure?" Rallied by those who dodge the questions.

10

Let these words manifest, collecting light particles to form blinding orb pairs: weightless, mysterious--- unrecognizable to untrained eyes. Let these condensed suns travel at their own patience pace down the desperate path: unaware, hunting--- aiming to impact with wanderers. Let this vehicle of literature resonate earth and air as they who stand before: afraid, curious--- awaiting the damage yet inflicted. Let the impact pass like typhoons, thrashing warm winds and caressing rains to sooth the fragile forsaken soul: trembling, confused--- contemplating the value of their breath. Let the moment remain frozen, growing between forever and never, sending important subliminals to foresight: love, patience--- reminding the willingly forgetful.

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Apr 7, 2016

Apr 7, 2016 at 1:43 AM UTC

"Reminding the Willingly Forgetful"

Let these words manifest, collecting light particles to form blinding orb pairs: weightless, mysterious--- unrecognizable to untrained eyes. Let these condensed suns travel at their own patience pace down the desperate path: unaware, hunting--- aiming to impact with wanderers. Let this vehicle of literature resonate earth and air as they who stand before: afraid, curious--- awaiting the damage yet inflicted. Let the impact pass like typhoons, thrashing warm winds and caressing rains to sooth the fragile forsaken soul: trembling, confused--- contemplating the value of their breath. Let the moment remain frozen, growing between forever and never, sending important subliminals to foresight: love, patience--- reminding the willingly forgetful.

25

I mourn not for the silent voices whom hide behind practiced smiles, but rather for the weeping authors of anonymous autobiographies where pages smudge and smear by worn, overused erasers.

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Apr 7, 2016

Apr 7, 2016 at 1:40 AM UTC

"I Mourn Not For The Silent Voice"

I mourn not for the silent voices whom hide behind practiced smiles, but rather for the weeping authors of anonymous autobiographies where pages smudge and smear by worn, overused erasers.

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