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dariddlemaster
dariddlemaster
18/M/Portland Maine I am a young, writing, filmmaking martial artist living in Portland Maine, exploring my creative interests.
My legs itch The wind blows It is sweet With the smell of palm tree And grass. A bird sings in a nearby tree But I know its song Is not for me; I will use these words To paint a pleasant picture, One with golden rays of sunlight Cast upon rippling water, In the most tranquil yard. The sun fades, The shade grows, How I wish the fist would stay, And the second would go; Pulled back by the wind, Stroked cut Here I am--- At peace
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May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 11:34 AM UTC
The Yard
A thundering castrophony splits the world in two and drowns my worries. Pitter patter pitter patter That which was once dry now ripples under the wet weight of the fallen sky. It hastens it slows it comes and goes; Teardrops melt the earth Pitter patter pitter patter One drop echoes another they are in perfect unity. And as they after their journey of a thousand feet finally connect with the warm, damp earth they break, Shattered into a symphony of liquid glass they bounce and roll through the grass. Over mountains over seas and finally; into you and into me
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May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 10:20 AM UTC
Rain
Gasping for air All I receive are thousands of particulates of sweat Exiting my body through deep pores Opening like potholes In the road to my dreams. Then With nothing but the force of my own sheer will I drag the thin Searing Beads of pain Fear, and loss Deep into my lungs… Is this not the determination The commitment, you’ve been looking for? If not Then that for which you look Truly does not exist. You call this a phase A stage You say “Gage, I know you” You tell me that next week It’ll be something new That if I don’t follow through That if I can’t STICK to one thing I’ll always be shifty That you have no faith in me Truth is Next week you could find me here, But you wouldn’t know Because you’ve never bothered to hear me Because to you My voice is nothing more than elevator music. My voice is nothing more to you Than the tick of a clock The buzz of a fly You have no choice but to listen to it--- But It stops… Eventually. LISTEN TO ME This is yet another Unperceived misconception Of your invention Leading you in the wrong direction--- Traced back to a lack of attention From when I would go against convention Trapping us in this contention--- I NEVER STOP. Truth is I am different THIS IS NOT A PHASE. This is a symphony Of beautiful rage Breaking the cage Of my destiny But you still HAVE---NO---FAITH---IN---ME Oh how you perplex me With your dry mouth Cracked, and swollen From scolding You have no faith in me- Unable to taste the sweet Golden juice Dripping from the fruits Of my labor… You have no faith... But if you just stop and listen Turn around and see The click of a key Your son’s typing stories The throw of a ball These normal sports bore me I’m walking a path You can’t walk it for me It’s not that I’m carefree Rather You fail to see That commitment for which you look Is inside of me
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May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 10:10 AM UTC
Stop and Listen
Gasping for air All I receive are thousands of particulates of sweat Exiting my body through deep pores Opening like potholes In the road to my dreams. Then With nothing but the force of my own sheer will I drag the thin Searing Beads of pain Fear, and loss Deep into my lungs… Is this not the determination The commitment, you’ve been looking for? If not Then that for which you look Truly does not exist. You call this a phase A stage You say “Gage, I know you” You tell me that next week It’ll be something new That if I don’t follow through That if I can’t STICK to one thing I’ll always be shifty That you have no faith in me Truth is Next week you could find me here, But you wouldn’t know Because you’ve never bothered to hear me Because to you My voice is nothing more than elevator music. My voice is nothing more to you Than the tick of a clock The buzz of a fly You have no choice but to listen to it--- But It stops… Eventually. LISTEN TO ME This is yet another Unperceived misconception Of your invention Leading you in the wrong direction--- Traced back to a lack of attention From when I would go against convention Trapping us in this contention--- I NEVER STOP. Truth is I am different THIS IS NOT A PHASE. This is a symphony Of beautiful rage Breaking the cage Of my destiny But you still HAVE---NO---FAITH---IN---ME Oh how you perplex me With your dry mouth Cracked, and swollen From scolding You have no faith in me- Unable to taste the sweet Golden juice Dripping from the fruits Of my labor… You have no faith... But if you just stop and listen Turn around and see The click of a key Your son’s typing stories The throw of a ball These normal sports bore me I’m walking a path You can’t walk it for me It’s not that I’m carefree Rather You fail to see That commitment for which you look Is inside of me
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