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This war I wage.
A new chapter.

I fought my battles,
I bled my blood.
I followed my orders and by God I marched,

Little did I know,
In this war I wage...
I fight on both sides...
Confusion's forsaken my thoughts to the long-lost brothers of insecurity.
Forcibly taken and tossed aside to hide within the lies of insincerity.

Kindred servant's lullabies:
Forgotten songs of yesterday,
Soothe me into waking nightmare.

Lead-shoed memories float upon seas made of stone,
Buried shallower than a grass-fed grave.

Anxious tensor userp my synapse's happiness...
Clutching my eversweet peace like a spoil'd child.
Hidden from view,
but most certainly there.

Dare me to escape the frozen steel I call home.
Wrought Irony,
Dragging my prison beneath my feat...

Misspelling's intentional because my feat?
Dragging my feet.

Asleep at the wheel,
my heart is steel.

Awoken stone cries gravel tears,
bruising my feet as I walk,
Talking as if the sensation is anything less than profoundly real.

Tangency is my thought process,
Clever distractions from the harbor'd fears:
just look the other way.

Case in point:
Confusion's forsaken my tears,
as my fears fade away,
if only to return another page.
Typing...
Please do not shut down the system before writing is complete.
This I feel in every string of being
Turbulence of the mind.
The peace hurt from whence it came,
And so quickly left the scene.

Nigh the stringent rules of a mind in chaos,
A rest n'er goes ungreeted.

As the missiles of a summer storm,
Rain upon the hopeful sound,
Dare'd I reach for the sky,
And was hastily struck down.

A vacant wood,
Reverberates the anxiety,
As the drumbeats in our hearts terrorize,
The thoughts we thought we could.

Lustful for the peace of endless time,
And finally release a smile sincere,
Shush our emblazoned thoughts,
And set free our restless minds.
Response to "Stormy Weather" by Keith Thompson
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3133885/stormy-weather/
Begin,
   We see in this moment,

Broken,
   Spoken our ductaped fixes,

The trajectory of the bricks is straight for my heart.

Break apart the arts I've invented in my mind,

Of which you're the inspiration.

Perspiration running down my face,
   As I realize my place in the world.

No space for a broken mind and shrunken heart.

Pull apart the synapses that hold me together,

It's as if,
   Things almost got better...

We all coast to the end of our tracks,
   Via the cracks in our walls.

Who falls through?
   We never know.

It just goes to show,

The most we've ever known,
  is never sleep alone.

~Robert van Lingen
Eenie,
Meenie,
Miney,
Mo,

Catch a poet by his toes,
If he suffers,
Let him go,

Eenie,
Meany,
Miney,

Oh...
Today is fine;
Good, even.
Notice.
The tiniest disturbance.

Why.

I don't like this.

A hole, torn in your existence.
Begin the singularity,
Engulfing.
Tiny Upset,
thought about,
more and more.
Becometh the raging storm.
Longer I stare,
Surround my consciousness.

Now,
everything is black.

I can't see.
I can't breathe.
My heart hurts.

We are.
Reflections of the wrong.
Exponentiate the entropy of thought.

Today is fine.
Not really.
This.
is.
Anxiety.
I'm not ready,
   to hold a heart.

I've been too long apart from my own.
Today is just the beginning.

I'd love to see love in another's eyes again,

But,
I don't know I'm ready,

To hold a heart,
Unprepared,

Will tear apart,
   the very bones and thoughts,
   you thought were yours.

So be ready.

Hold your own heart,
   Until it no longer burns.

Do not lay your aflamed heart in another's hands,
Just to watch them burn.

Be ready.
Set free the flames that be,
And breathe deep the air you've never seen.

Then you may hold a heart.
You will hold them together,
With only the unburning flames of a true love...
A love,
That costs nothing.

But today...
I am not ready,
To hold a heart.

~Robert van Lingen
To play the heartstrings plays a song only we can hear,
To love the artist of words,

Every string you pluck,
Becomes our canvas.
Make us cry,
The world will read.

To love a writer,
Is to publish your deeds.
To write the fight is my way to speak,
To fight the might of life is my reason to live,

Set me free to my mind and I will never look back,
To myself I am the one and only.

I am in control.

To write the fight is my way to speak,

Breathe to me,
And show me who I am.

~Robert van Lingen
If asking these questions,
Leads to the edge's ends,
Then so be.

This way I see,
Will no longer breathe life,
Into the clouded seas,
Of a scene,
That serves only to see,
To my demise.

It may be wise, then,
To just say goodbye,
And breathe the sighs,
of our relief,
To once again walk the streets,
Without using our hands and knees.

Then maybe,
Once again,
In few years' time,
We could say hello,
In and of a new light,
Once we've seen,
Who You and I,
are truly meant to be.

~Robert van Lingen
My forgetfulness is a more successful entity than even I at times.
My trust in regretfulness often gets the better of me.

But yea,
I hunker down,
surrounded by unforgetfulness of the lack of silence.
Bygone are the maybes of yesteryear,
Make way for the probably's of today.

Goodbye,
Gone are the ways of those festering years,
All those tears of sorrow.

Twenty-Five years, and far too many fears,
Have given way,
to the absolutely,
The easily,
The finally's of tomorrow.
The seance,
Between my heart and mind,
Serves to intertwine,
My thoughts I might find,
Buried in my heart,
The kinds that tear me from my feet,
Up till the moments I've died.

Every unwaking second,
Is a moment I find,
That my heart and mind,
Can be...

Alone.

~Robert van Lingen
Hello?
Oh...I'm sorry, nevermind..
Just. Stop. Talking.
You useless heart
The hidden love,
For the friend who is always there.

Through every step,
Through long times and hardship,
No matter how long since we speak,
It's like we met just yesterday,

Through many friendships,
Come and go,
There is something different about you,

I hope my patience will last,
Because you just may be the last.

~Robert van Lingen
V
When the world falls upon you and more,
   To gaze back,
Eyes glazed over the destruction.

The heart bleeds as if cut a thousand times,
And bleeds some more.

As to the beating tune beneath,
   It rages on.
...and so does the war.

The fight with oneself,
and the carriers of the pains you've now taken for granted...

There's only so much earth to break.

   Spread these ****** bones across the fields of my unvisioning,
Blind wakes close behind...

Warpath, I have taken.
   Shaken, is the thought of finding peace, again...

Until my end.
I will fight.
The wayward scent,
Of sunrise's past.

Watch and wonder,
Watch and wander,

Breathe,
And see.
Be,
And believe.

An old morning's mist,
And old glories missed.

Wavering in stance,
A heart yet stands.

A wave goodbye,
May not be a good bye.

The wayward scent,
My way sent,

Show me good
And goodbye.

~Robert van Lingen
Written Nov. 11 2017. Transcribed and Ported from Wattpad.
We
We
Every time we, as people...as a group, think of a new category, a new classification, a new label, we further our own separation from each other. Every new name gives us a pre-conceived notion for us to pre-judge other people with.

All of us will be familiar with generational categorization. Millennial, Boomer, Gen X, Y, and Z...etc. We all say, "Millenials are spoiled and have it easy and complain too much," or "The Boomers ruined the economy because they're greedy," or "Gen Z is lazy and never knew anything that wasn't on a screen..."

These sayings, are all just easy ways out... lazy assumptions we can use to generalize one another so that we don't have to put in the effort it takes to actually care...

And yeah, caring is hard.
Truth is, we've all gotten lazy.

Every single "group" of people, has some of the most amazing, loving people you will ever meet, regardless of age, or anything. Love and hatred have no bias as to who you are, where you live, what you think, or when you were born.

Think about it.
It's so easy to see one person doing something selfish to us, and we immediately look at them, and label them according to our own biases, but we never stop to look at the many more people that don't do us wrong; Perhaps even the ones that help us out. When that happens to us, they're just...people.
When we're transgressed, those people become "they." **** them blank, **** those blank, Selfish blank.
And every time we allow these little events to affect us, we become more selfish ourselves... and the cycle goes on.

This doesn't just go for generations. It goes for political separation, gender identity, race, etc.

Every,
Single,
Name,
is an excuse for us to hate each other.
Fuel for the pyre that we ourselves, you and I are tied to.

We are all human. We are all kin. Every single one of us will bleed the same blood, and cry the same tears.
That ******* that cut you off in traffic may have been on the way to the hospital to catch the dying breath of his wife, son, daughter, father, mother, or friend just in time.

We need to stop seeing each other as they, or them.
We,
Are Us.

We,
Are the only people on this tiny little rock in space,
And if we allow ourselves to hate our kin, surely we will destroy everything we know and love.

We live in the age of being overfed with information no one asked for, and we allow this information to divide us as a people.

I don't care if you are Gen Z, Republican, Democrat, Millenial, Man, Woman, or anything in between...you are just like me. You bleed red and you have a heart and a soul that wants to be loved and to feel important and that you're doing the right thing.

There's a very simple solution to this epidemic of social divide.
Next time you feel like someone has wronged you, or done something wrong. Take a step back. Stop and think.
Benefit,
of,
the Doubt.

We need to love ourselves,
but more importantly,
We need to love each other just as much...
Because in the end,
Without each other,
we would just be alone, and lost.
We are meaningless without each other.
This isn't much of a poem, but It needs to be seen.
Witness the slivers of light that whisper through a darkened mind.

Effortless hypocrisy feeds broken philosophies.

Hold your mind close.
For you may just slip away,
Into this place,
And meet me.

H...hello
I am the ugly duckling.
I am the doorless key.
I am the page forever unstained.
I am the beginningless story.

I am the man,
with no home.

I am,
The soul,
With no hope,
No trust,
No penance,
No closure,
No love,
No peace...

No humanity.

I,
am not lost,
For I was never even meant to be found.

~Robert van Lingen
Hold tight to hope's embrace,
   wait...

I've heard this line before.

   This corridor I've walked along before,
I walk along once more.

Breathlessly tracing my fingertips along the walls as I stroll through the halls,
  
   Feel the infinitesimal imperfections,
akin to the ones in my mind.

Mind the gap.

Ahead here,
   is a dead end.

the point I cannot see past.

what,
What is behind my wall?

~Robert van Lingen
Who are you?
Not a name,

Tell me your soul.

~Robert van Lingen
When is the end of my story?
Where is my final line?
The heat slowly fades into my mind as I seek asylum from itself...

Bring me to me,
When is my end,
When is my goodbye?

~Robert van Lingen
To read my old conversations...
That are long now passed,
It is both more, and less jarring than I expected it to be.

I am taken aback,
Not because I am taken back,
But only due to the sharp and nigh painful retrospect of our mistakes.
How differently I wish I did anything,
Not because I wish I still had you,
But, because I am disappointed in myself for not living up to my own values...
Blinded by the blind, blind love I was in.

Retrospect and nostalgia may be similar,
In fact...
They're either edge of the same sword.
And both edges can make you bleed
why
why
these writings,
these ramblings,
these, incoherent thoughts,

are many things to me.
i write for several reasons,
and I post my work for several more.

this, is my therapy...
this allows me to go back in time and, re-live moments, to re-think thoughts, and most importantly, re-evaluate my internal response and outlook of the situation, feeling, or occurrence.

my writing focuses upon my internalisms, my thoughts.
very few of my pieces are outwardly inspired. Very rarely is my writing based within my physical perception of what is happening around me.

I post and share, for several more reasons; some purer than others.
I share because I don't want others to suffer as I do at times, and perhaps, something in my writing will inspire a change in thought or feeling, or at the very least, allow someone to relate, and realize they're not alone.

I share so that someone, someday will recognize the true weight and reflection of my writing and be able to identify how, and why I am how I am, and help me better understand myself and the world around me, and minimize, or even eliminate this endless battle, and help me find the only thing in life that I truly yearn for:
peace.

i share also because i feel that my experiences and thoughts are common property. my creations, once made, are no longer mine to keep to myself. these words, these thoughts, these feelings are yours to do with what you please. love them, hate them, learn from them, or ignore them completely. Just as speech is common domain, so is my inner speech.

lastly, i share Because of my struggle... this is my selfish motive. I am addicted to the validation of seeing you all read my inner thoughts and react to it. It tells me I am not dreaming. It shows me that what I feel is, in fact, real and that I am not just a figment of my own imagination.

Why am I writing this?
to show you i am not merely a writer behind a mask, or truly a writer at all.
I am just a human, a person sharing my existence in the form of written words.

Thank you,
And may you all find a true, everlasting peace, and love within yourselves, and each other.
This,
Is a diction to validation.
Give me your eyes,
And read my writes.

Within the increment,
Feeding my affliction.

More reads,
Make more writes,
And your reads,
Are my wrongs,
That let me sleep at night.

~Robert van Lingen
I am not myself, for without those near, N'er I resolve to nothing.

I am you, I am Him, and her. I am all who I see, For without all, I am nothing.

~Robert van Lingen
Ported from my Wattpad account.
Written June 23, 2015
Words,
Are the believed truth.
The selfless intentions we've lost ourselves within.
Abhorred by those who don't understand.

Words,
Are the language of our endless thoughts,
Torturously imprisoned if left with no other choice.

So,
Speak to me your sins,
Your loves,
Your pains,
Your means,
And your end.

Spout your soliloquy my direction,
And I would revel in the limitless interpretations of your thought.

Words are LOVE

~Robert van Lingen
Response to "GđV+10" by Guy de Vere
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3308764/gv10/
You always said,
Actions speak louder than words,
But words do mean something.

Words are the language of my heart,
Words can build me up,
Or tear me apart.
Yours in particular.

Actions speak louder than words,
But without words,
There would be no speaking at all.

~Robert van Lingen
Words do, mean something.
What now?
Lies or Confusion?
Misunderstanding or Malice?
The truth is all I seek.
Give me something to believe.

Taint the starry sky.
Where even the truth speaks deception.
Believe this,
Believe nothing.

Who are you?
Why am I?
What were we?

Do I love?
Do I hate?
Feel or Fall?
Give me something to believe,

Taint the Stars.
The memories are hell and heaven entwined.
To one side I walk,
To the other, I cry.

Give me something to trust,
Yet what is this word?
To Trust.

To Muster the will to move along and turn a blind eye to the past.
To us? Trust speaks in tongues.
It's hieroglyphs read nothing we understand.

Taint the sun,
Its blazing light turns to showers of fear.
The rain turns red.

Show me something to believe,
Grant me reprieve,
N'er shall I see the same.

~Robert van Lingen
Many people say that, actions speak louder than words,
these short little lines we write speak to us in a way a gift or a hug could never,
Actions,
do speak louder than words.
But words,
speak directly to our mind and heart:
bypassing the inconsistencies and shows us one's intentions,
words, do mean something
Should you kindly tell your tales,
I may blindly slash and flail,

Send the ink to paper and scribe the thoughts in immortal time.
With these unknowns
These powder bones
Slip across't each other
Just to miss their mark.

Ready for the coming seasons
In no particular order
The sun comes up at different times of day.

The moon really is my best friend anyway
Because you're the one who watches over my dreams every day.

Apparently the thoughtfulness that I escribe
Unto these phantom pages coule magnificence readyness.
But they're kind of just random mots that somehow convey the way I feel at the time.
It doesn't even have to make sense.
But it always does in the end.

Au revoir
Just when I thought I was ashore,
My waves crack once more,

Here I stare at the walls above,
Lying, aware of nothing more.

Just when I thought I was home,
Just when I thought I could be alone,

You came,
You've grown,
In, and out of my fleeting realities,

I fly athunder'd by this reckless mind,
I fly, blunder'd into the past I'd thought I'd left behind.
Sleep,

Quiet, I say.
There's nothing left to say but,
Just wait.
There's no need to cry,

I'd merely thought I'd lost my way,
Silently,
I just have to remember,

My yesterdays,
Will never be my tomorrows.

~Robert van Lingen
You
You
Who
                               Are
  You
           To
                                     Judge
                  Others
For

     What
                       You
                                      Are

              NOT
You,
Are my brother.
You,
Are my sister.

You are my tribe,
My people,
My Family.

To see the day,
Witnessing the ways we hate each other,
Thrusts a knife through my heart, and out the other side.

The weight of the world falls upon us when we see the loss of our brothers, our sisters,
Born of the same blood,
As you, and I.

I am not scared,
I am sad,
I am disappointed to see the ways,
The walls we build that separate us from the other.

There is no other,
Only Us.

You,
Are my brother.
You,
Are my sister.
You are all my family,
And my Blood.

To see the blood spilled for the sake of nothing,
Forsaken are we to each other.

Come together,
You and I.
Come, my sister,
Come, my brother.

We shall stand,
Hand in hand.
until the day we fly.

~Robert van Lingen
For all the lives lost in the New Zealand attack, I mourn your loss as you are my family. For all the lives lost around the world every day. Let us come together and show us what our family name really means:

Human.
Why are you running?
Pull down the sun,
Look in a mirror and see that it is you.

Why try to escape?
Wave away the clouds and fear no fear,

Why let your tears fly?
Dry them and step into the stars and you will see,
You are there.

Why chase the light?
When you are shining already.

You Are the Light.

~Robert van Lingen
Today is yet another that pulls me back to pains of past,
Amassed sit the flowless tears,
I'm in shock.

I'd love to forget love,
Yet, It's not that simple.

I stand,
I walk,
I run,

Any manner of how far I go,
You are there.

~Robert van Lingen
I'd buried my only fear so deep as to make the Gods wonder,

I'd built my trust,
Back up from the rubbles of my decimation,
I'd trusted in one more than any other.

And yet,
You'd managed to find that too.
Well done, sir...

Once more you've taken my trust to a ****** ropes' end.
Again you've manifested the fear I'd kept locked away.

That's too bad.
Now There is none more for you to bring to life.
There are no more towers for you to topple...

Yet I stand before you.
I.
Will.
Not.
Fall.

You've no more stones to cast.
I will use your wretched ammunition as bricks,
And my blood as mortar.

It is no longer I who will fall.
You have nothing left.
I am.
My heart is the lo-fi beating,
My mind the static,
While my soul is the sea in which they swim.

Let's take advantage of this chaos peaceful state of mind,
And write a few little stories.

Forget the little pills bottles,
I'd rather love these words more than every day anyway.

But Zoloft does kind of roll off the tongue,
especially when I spit it out.
In a day I fall,
To these walls I scream,
NO MORE!

Yet they play their sadistic songs,
Play my piano strings, dear, keep on.

You,
You who hated me for my past,
Abhorred me for my pains,
And yet you play.

Play on and slay what's left,
This man who bore his bones to you,
Who bled his last drop to show his love yet,

This blood isn't red enough for you.

~Robert van Lingen
Written August 2, 2016. Transcribed and Ported from my Wattpad.com account
It's funny,
One day you were there,
The next day you were gone,
You found me alone and latched on and held me and showed me love.

You saw the worst parts of me,
You saw the best,
In my darkest times you were there,

When I wanted to die,
When everything to me was a lie,
You were there.

When Nothing and no one meant anything to me anymore,
Except you,
Yeah, you were there.

You were my rock, my shoulder to lean on,
When I needed a heart and a reason,
When I needed a best friend,
When I needed a lover and a home,
You were there.

The day my world collapsed,
The night I lost everything and cried,
When my mom decided to end her own life and I had nowhere to run,
You were there.

You held my hand through every moment,
Through every day I was scared,
You were there...

~Robert van Lingen

— The End —