luke-r-e-webster - Hello Poetry

I was inspired by the eyes of my love, as she looked over as we did commonplace chores in the urban centre. I had admired the slight of her touch, as we embraced in the dew-covered morn just as I left her. My love waits for me, alone, tired, moans, mired, in the past, of our memories. We exist, with each other. We resist, one another. Then desist, hopeful hover. My love is alone, though I am there, I am with you my love, I’m sorry, I have to help this, I just want to lie in your arms, away from all this, I’ve found love, but cannot be there, in the splendor of its beauty, I must see to something, but my love, I will be with you, as it was before, again, I promise.

0

Jan 11, 2016

Jan 11, 2016 at 9:35 PM UTC

Promising

I was inspired by the eyes of my love, as she looked over as we did commonplace chores in the urban centre. I had admired the slight of her touch, as we embraced in the dew-covered morn just as I left her. My love waits for me, alone, tired, moans, mired, in the past, of our memories. We exist, with each other. We resist, one another. Then desist, hopeful hover. My love is alone, though I am there, I am with you my love, I’m sorry, I have to help this, I just want to lie in your arms, away from all this, I’ve found love, but cannot be there, in the splendor of its beauty, I must see to something, but my love, I will be with you, as it was before, again, I promise.

33

As great men and women pass on from this world, all we can do is exist, for now. Our function within the world is a single serving occurrence. We exist for it’s own sake, just as life exists for no particular reason. There is comfort in this, there is comfort in existence, life. As we near the end of our time with life, we realise this truly. My Father realised this at an early age, war almost bringing to him a premature end, and his life since has been free of a fear of his own death. My Mother doesn’t approve and I don’t truly understand. If I knew in my soul that an afterlife existed, then I would not fear my own death, but I would still fear the death of those I love, of those I know well and have loved since time immemorial, for what life is worth living if one is entirely devoid of love? No, for now love will be better than all the riches in the world, for love, unlike riches, or fame, or power, is worth the fear. It compensates for the unparalleled trepidation with an enrichment of the soul that none of these could ever offer, or even attempt to emulate. Love is love, life is life Love is Life.

0

Jan 11, 2016

Jan 11, 2016 at 9:29 PM UTC

Musings on the important, intangible aspects our lives focus on

As great men and women pass on from this world, all we can do is exist, for now. Our function within the world is a single serving occurrence. We exist for it’s own sake, just as life exists for no particular reason. There is comfort in this, there is comfort in existence, life. As we near the end of our time with life, we realise this truly. My Father realised this at an early age, war almost bringing to him a premature end, and his life since has been free of a fear of his own death. My Mother doesn’t approve and I don’t truly understand. If I knew in my soul that an afterlife existed, then I would not fear my own death, but I would still fear the death of those I love, of those I know well and have loved since time immemorial, for what life is worth living if one is entirely devoid of love? No, for now love will be better than all the riches in the world, for love, unlike riches, or fame, or power, is worth the fear. It compensates for the unparalleled trepidation with an enrichment of the soul that none of these could ever offer, or even attempt to emulate. Love is love, life is life Love is Life.

2

I've seen... Many an egg dropped by the proverbial hen then egg becomes number through paper and pen then greed facilitates the perpetrators of this with ample incentive to young girls a kiss. Then kiss unexpectedly leads to *********** and the greedy ******* end with a non-legit son many of the girlies will attempt abortion but a few will not do as the ******* tell them. So the son soon and swiftly becomes an anomaly while it's elder brother says to daddy "are you proud of me" the oxbridge acceptance letter filled him up with glee but the dad knows secretly it's all to do with money. So the half witted son takes up the mantle of the father as senility and guilt have finally gripped the latter the son through drugs and experimentation is madder his social status dictates, he'll always climb the ladder. A few years pass, we're in different situation the son of senility has got grip o' the nation shaking wretched and archaic crumbling foundations, he's shaking the **** all over his poorer realtion. But the overgrown man-child doesn't know, that since he took power his brother sits in the cold, that with all the food he eats, he chews it real slow, so he can have food for longer, fill that hole. But does it make it all right at once, cuz he claims ignorance or should the people at the top be people from the bottom, the ones who looked up, but got nothing but trod on. It's impossible to relate, when you all dissipate, when your middle class darling, has a working class date. So the ******* child doesn't vote, through bedroom tax lost his home, Senile son? Victory of note fake promises in the matriarchal dome. Apathy strikes again, this shit's impossible to defend, how can we justify not getting off our ***** not doing something about all this in the masses? oh yeah, that's right although barely know the people at the top, We've all seen their soles as they've trod on our lots

0

Dec 31, 2014

Dec 31, 2014 at 9:29 AM UTC

Chronic Politics

I've seen... Many an egg dropped by the proverbial hen then egg becomes number through paper and pen then greed facilitates the perpetrators of this with ample incentive to young girls a kiss. Then kiss unexpectedly leads to *********** and the greedy ******* end with a non-legit son many of the girlies will attempt abortion but a few will not do as the ******* tell them. So the son soon and swiftly becomes an anomaly while it's elder brother says to daddy "are you proud of me" the oxbridge acceptance letter filled him up with glee but the dad knows secretly it's all to do with money. So the half witted son takes up the mantle of the father as senility and guilt have finally gripped the latter the son through drugs and experimentation is madder his social status dictates, he'll always climb the ladder. A few years pass, we're in different situation the son of senility has got grip o' the nation shaking wretched and archaic crumbling foundations, he's shaking the **** all over his poorer realtion. But the overgrown man-child doesn't know, that since he took power his brother sits in the cold, that with all the food he eats, he chews it real slow, so he can have food for longer, fill that hole. But does it make it all right at once, cuz he claims ignorance or should the people at the top be people from the bottom, the ones who looked up, but got nothing but trod on. It's impossible to relate, when you all dissipate, when your middle class darling, has a working class date. So the ******* child doesn't vote, through bedroom tax lost his home, Senile son? Victory of note fake promises in the matriarchal dome. Apathy strikes again, this shit's impossible to defend, how can we justify not getting off our ***** not doing something about all this in the masses? oh yeah, that's right although barely know the people at the top, We've all seen their soles as they've trod on our lots

47

I’m… Sitting in my flat, To my couch I am thatched, Kyle’s yelling, He keeps telling, Me to, Get a job, Like walk straight into one, I get slightly indignant, That it’s easier said than done, He points it out, So his main demographic Don’t switch off en-masse, Ending his quasi-infographic Combination of hot air and bad gas Mr. Kyle’s relatable, He makes an effort So unlike certain Eton educated conservative western capitalistic illuminati slaves, He’s not hateable. SO, my now easily distracted mind turns to Mr.C, The way his policies A.K.A BEDROOM TAX negatively impact me The way he forces me into obvious and obnoxious modern day slavery Through way of a work programme How he has decided that I need to experience real life life, Through legislation and universal credit, Credible implication to make the poorest poorer because they have the gall to spend it SO my rhyming thought full of tangents Must now come to end As the tangent I have accomplished Is impossible to defend.

0

Dec 16, 2014

Dec 16, 2014 at 8:14 AM UTC

JSA blues

I’m… Sitting in my flat, To my couch I am thatched, Kyle’s yelling, He keeps telling, Me to, Get a job, Like walk straight into one, I get slightly indignant, That it’s easier said than done, He points it out, So his main demographic Don’t switch off en-masse, Ending his quasi-infographic Combination of hot air and bad gas Mr. Kyle’s relatable, He makes an effort So unlike certain Eton educated conservative western capitalistic illuminati slaves, He’s not hateable. SO, my now easily distracted mind turns to Mr.C, The way his policies A.K.A BEDROOM TAX negatively impact me The way he forces me into obvious and obnoxious modern day slavery Through way of a work programme How he has decided that I need to experience real life life, Through legislation and universal credit, Credible implication to make the poorest poorer because they have the gall to spend it SO my rhyming thought full of tangents Must now come to end As the tangent I have accomplished Is impossible to defend.

30

I'm waiting for the train. Its a really lovely day. Theres a rainbow in the sky, like sugar for my eyes. The air is nicely crisp, healing my cracked lips. But over the hills hails a dark cloud, a gauntlet called out aloud. The train will now be departing at 9:22, now what the **** am I supposed to do? The weather gets slightly colder, the rainbow gets bolder, goes from rainbow to rain blowing. The anger in me starts showing. My lips are in agony, my hands buried in either side of me. And just as a raindrop hits me in the eye, the train shows up, at 10:05

0

Dec 16, 2014

Dec 16, 2014 at 7:50 AM UTC

Trains

I'm waiting for the train. Its a really lovely day. Theres a rainbow in the sky, like sugar for my eyes. The air is nicely crisp, healing my cracked lips. But over the hills hails a dark cloud, a gauntlet called out aloud. The train will now be departing at 9:22, now what the **** am I supposed to do? The weather gets slightly colder, the rainbow gets bolder, goes from rainbow to rain blowing. The anger in me starts showing. My lips are in agony, my hands buried in either side of me. And just as a raindrop hits me in the eye, the train shows up, at 10:05

19

Slowly decaying, under no pressure, time will pass, without measure. In a box, alone with love, future fleeting, for all to see. By the wayside, across the bay, people few, none can save. Time to end, as false life beckons, Poets lone, langauge lessens.

0

Apr 3, 2013

Apr 3, 2013 at 8:06 AM UTC

Emoush

Slowly decaying, under no pressure, time will pass, without measure. In a box, alone with love, future fleeting, for all to see. By the wayside, across the bay, people few, none can save. Time to end, as false life beckons, Poets lone, langauge lessens.

16

How I am injured, at the sanctity of man,. How are we hindered, by the rarity, we can We see a light, corrupted by us, we need a brighter slight, where sacredness is a must. Rarely it's seen, a man living by his dreams, liars abundant, but never the dreams.

0

Apr 3, 2013

Apr 3, 2013 at 8:03 AM UTC