There once was a girl, (little) who grew up in a town called West. She noticed snakes were, admiring her because she was free. One definitely went in. How does it come out? Tactic. Though how does it there? Wanting to come back in.

In flowers boom
dusts of red and maroon
fire red as noon
sprung a little
that there's life
that there's life
amongst the ignite
Thorns in pieces
light as eases
no one saw
the ignition that went off
though who's no one
when the bombs has been there at all.
Spirits called
at the Quake.
A relativity at non hand
not a mistake
A relativity of grounding
for men who left the going fire
in the blooms of myre.
Earth is where we need to be
As soul is human
Spirit is for the human
human deflates at death
Rising above and beyond
Where? What entacts us?
What ignites us?
A reminder of where we need to be
is this Planet.
I boom. You boom. Mothers boom.
Sparkles of you, you, you.
Fire as infinite,
sprung
that there's life that there's life
amongst we the people.
Flowers intact - grass grows, butterflies form.
Light shines.
Everyone sees. Stay grounded.
Earth, recall: The Planet.

by Clarissa van Vreden

Why?
She snads voice to a similarity
if you tell her to please be on with her tune more
she repeats the voice of your soul
She's lied to her husband all along of not able too understand his incoming senses
She tries to move her voice abouts to mine as so before with her tune
to a all alongingness of repetition of yours.
There's evil in her vide
this is why

as a female you should only feel **** when you **** or when you *******
that white stuff is good
it's from the insides of your skin
eventually you get your period
and that's normal
that leaking throughout the day if that exists: en-wronged. It's not normal.

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

Now i understand,
chose snow lady
snow babe
She need to cook!
He wants stars
He loved them
Sometimes in later day
he turns evil because he chose stars
Understood daddy
that 3rd one biggest say mistake of my life,
the made of love.
Ha-ha! Yeah. Ha-ha!
PS DAD: I need to be able to write.

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

Train wreck not much like it
step by step letting with guidance struck out trust
of some establishing
lettering dissaray
confusion dispers
after setting it free
From here beyond a body of ocean and land in land
lies a boy
Needing a rely on needy boy?
It's much like that with getting those type of answers,
kind of definetely
If you don't love him then, he'll go frantic
So is it time to stop-writing-about-this
Bonding seems cliche
but that bond…
I hear you and that I do not not alone consider love,
I consider you
because we bonded
and letting free
isn't easy
Though in this cliche tragedy,
I'd probably wound back at *******
but let free?
In that passage,
thank you, freely

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

internet stuff comes back up

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

i died in the ocean a long time along the shores
mine mine gone arriven to the seas lines back as a ghost
i've been aiming
i came back to me today
from all the flesh juggling,
my oval was small
i felt a little sadness
i went through hell

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

there was only sky
there was a cave of which there were the dead inside
the birds started chirping from the beginning roots of trees
the ocean layer was swerving
the rainbow appeared once the messages were in full bloom
The sky started turning from purple's and red's to a bright blue
There were bats that hovered from the caves
only darkness seemed to know where this all came from
because the rise of skies made it as though something new
The foxes showed themselves as the mud turned brown
and the wolves appeared themselves as the birds fell down
it seemed as if everything was coming alive from the roots of trees
moths only appeared in the know about century
the crystal snowflakes came about every so often, every 2 to 3 weeks.
There then appeared to be no one in these coffins in the caves
Bones spurred
the souls of the people didn't arrive just suddenly, but one showed notice as the next followed in the midst of autumn and summer not before winter fall
They came from a galactic falling
slowly their crystals began to show
to prove that in the coldest of all seasons humans are strongest of them all

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

Batman ride car mobile swerving back

Let me rides,
given to school bois,
made a deal
he said aight
after I said i wont scam
given
though others lended
or was it both?
well theres Youngbloodz:
straight cars lining
me aint cool with them taking
so I ordered my car
after firing in the air saying dont move.
one heated
i said dont get out as he moving out,
i shot a gun towards him out so ther
was wind
killah all like dont
well im in my vehicle
and they also took his car
i didnt know that was his car
home
calling the po
about his car by he
and we got them cars back

ps I shot the gun before the wind

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

it has a lot of faults,
your story,
has a lot of unsaid
your story
has a lot of knowledge

Your story is epic,
but yet so strange as of right now: Bland

The thought of it explanation,
gets you eery instead of laughable because of
what?

You felt you couldn't explain it better?

Your story,

mine.

PS: Do tell because that is why you feel this way

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

Once upon a poetrical road
lied a force be told
A struck down of gloom,
starry eyed suprise
tumbling down fell hard
at by my toes.
It's weak how but it glows.
I aimed to pick it up as it started to float reminiscing it's good bye to where I realized I could see,
because of the light.

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

Where there once was a willow tree, out-broke some purple Daisy flowers. Indeed smelling of lavender. The grass grew dim and the sun always setting. Where there was a will was a way reminded the willow tree. Birds seemed to re-speech what was said. Crows my loveliest animals out of this bunch, just because... Well there was a book about a wishing well they've all heard of- far away. Here the rain was enough supply- The mothers, all friends- the fathers also. My favorite was pumpkin soup.
They stayed living to out the smell of something sleepy. The willow tree became like the wishing well, and here we all are, solemnly.

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

He was perfect because we could talk,
and laugh back and forth- obviously that's what I mean by perfect.
He, was perfect
because we could talk
then he believed the Crench, the very so named by me
(was me) the she, the all so thought beloved he didn't realize,
he started to hate because all she'd do is choose out of sentences
I told you in honesty that that exists I said,
(not that I'd mind him with other girls it's his life')
but to get me confused in the midst,
over she and her force feeding her my thoughts
Well why he said would you try for me after if this is true?
I said because she does such a good job at it I feel badly for you
not because I do now feel badly for you, not anymore
It's just such a sappy good bye,
I feel for you if you were going through a tough time I thought
I didn't think you would be to just be lazy about this,
and choose her for an easy me
I couldn't see that as a possibility
but the strain in you is nothing beautiful it's just content,
you just want it whatever sounds as it, to have it
but it's not real,
not satisfied.

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

PS It is such a Deep poem

I walk to a room,

bedroom by my side.

I sit down to eat,

with my friends.

As usual but not;

Because this new one,

told me I had a bad

mannerism at eating.

Basically claiming me

a *****,

So I tried to **** him.

Though not understanding ever

why he said, "you have
a nasty habit of eating."

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

It is close, and still for humanistic tendency is used to.
Riven up to complete uncared pain for it is they the beholder of no care to need care for such means?
Perhaps some out there; Doing, care for such means?
Perhaps some out there doing, care or do they not consider this doing- as it is a tool though and and any tool to have usage needs human to it.
To discover what man cannot is where it has gone array. That picturesque tendency can only show what is considered endurance. Whilst in the real World, art wins. A photograph is never the exact of reality besides it needs zoom in zoom out quality. Now if that can't hurt I only know of one other tool that can: The gun. Though no one wants to use that to use for harm, they say. In order to get proper viewing through the satellite it's like half pulling the trigger - you need the subject, so the bullet needs astray- and shut down, re-ignite.
It probably doesn't make you feel that good (ricochet)

What hath made you gear had made you unbearable.
What had seen geared need no evidence rather than usage alone.
What caused hint-age, will be that and that stand free. Freedom: Strife; Endurance.

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

You can be whatever it is
You can be lively
or deadly
Self lonely

You can be boring
You can be sad
You can be energetic
or fad like

So, going ahead with
you are my sunshine
you’ve been near my thoughts of death,
I’ve been alone
It’s been boring, and sad
although I’m energetic
roses are red,
violets are blue

this poem is to me- to you
i’m whatever it is

dear poem,
you are my sunshine my only sunshine
without you I’d be dead

I am alone
It can be boring and depressing: Life
Although I’m energetic
roses are red,
violets are rest,
rest in read

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

Limbo on a boat
went dim-oh-on-a-coat
Sinful on the loot
and non forgetful of the put-
Shine of liars, feud of party empire,
flings on dock
to mesmerize 8
Lying, down on silk wood - still,
seeking the stars as on appeared where art thou _?
Trees never tired,
plants: A fade,
whilst the flowers have had something to prove...

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

I was sitting drowning on a pencil colors of all sorts of red and yellow and green my water drew dim as the blue began to mellow I wasn’t wearing any gloves but I was naked and socks it was a small little puddle with lipstick smeared to purple my mascara drew thin as there came a glistening mellow below my cheeks made of the bluest droplets hitting the water bellow she started to cry as she realized, the epic part about this poem is that it was okay to cry in a puddle

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

Blue rose sunshine

Blue arose in the sun of shine
this ah morning
this ah morning

Rain drops of the evening last nights setting
appear on the woods of falling
almost blue like the ocean,
hit a water fall back unto
back unto
this ah delightful morn

that beauty music is hitting my eardrums whilst silence has been clear
nothing psychotic
no never that my dear my dear

This early morning the sunshine shun so shunning shiningly bright
my eyes fell a tear drop
from pure delight

Blue arose in the sun of shine
this ah morning
this ah morning

What has been setting with my hands
has now been that virtue to clear stand
open the books
take a walk
See the afternoon,
that too,
until the dimming lights
of today
that new new fresh morning say

Blue arose in the sun of shine
this ah morning
this ah morning

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

English please?
English it is
Thank you for it's the number one english
In-tell? In-tell is clear
In-hell? Not just yet
Profuse ring bells
English please...
That's what I see!
I can see how that's now clear
Clear until in-hell
Like you know what I'm doing?
What for?

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

In a Spiritual world,
much not needed of explain:
In a Galaxy field World
we are all in
In galaxy connection

Sometimes it's like "what?"
to say for the negative inside
I come across,
a leech
a ******* my speech
and I don't want to be there for it hear it,
but there it is
that repeat
of my taste, so to speak.

It's like I get it!
so to pass out on a bad note,
it's not the greatest feedback
because, it is not me.
It's that link that exists...

Why not you try to be you and try
face your faith if you've heard of such,
and be your behave because we're all much better off.
Though why would you read this a hear out listen
though, "we're all much better off."

Don't be ware of the human leech,
ignore it
and continue being, who you are.

I have come to face the Witch(es)
They intact imaginational visual feed force upon thee
and crack a field in your Aura
because of envy

Witches exist too,
and so do
the spiritual
human leech.

Energy,
it exists.

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

lavender lilac butter scotch blue flowers
aside the nothingness but open air
rummiging thorns down thickles
to its decending upwarding water

breathing upon its havoc
limber joyous not so joyous atmosphere
Always doing the same but not yet the same,
dying

like soil is its blood without its blood its earth its roots
have gone dissipade unlike me,
I am made from soil unto my own soil thickness
and breathing joyfully into Space

what are flowers for when we can use them for so much
other than its immediance question and answer of this such
"I don't know"
Taste, devour, smell, and beauty

nothing but its limber award
and pleasantry

of this sickle
rootless
tree

blending in so perfectly,
with water and what's death to be.

Saddening strickening the evolution of quick throw away plant;
Necessary; like a gift it is,
a quickness of sight,
an immediance of a throw away

To the salut!

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

ten percent battery to write about eyes
ten percent battery to write about eyes
ten percent battery to write about eyes

thine eyes are thine eyes

though have not haven't have hathened thur eyes
thise eyes have been haddened by your eyes

obviously

nothing about realize " that you have eyes
as safety

no thanks , and no thanks ittitty -

Demisial deprived depriviciality

no thanks,

you two

eyes for mine areth sacred like my faith of sensity

those who have scaredom of eyes have scaredom of eyes

but me,

I know thine eyes

and + you

You aren't nothing but that demise in senseless hearacheded heartache heartacheded devure in spiced spliced

hathened you had senselessnessness

Can't I; Be nice?

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

He wasn't my husband to be,
wasn't my husband not to be. . .
he was a lonesome lover of lover.
He did not have a father.
& here I am years later,
wandering if he had believed all those years later,
he had had that one jailer as a father.

His father today brings bee nests,
to my ears,
and he believes he sees now his Woman,
me through the eyes of a Poppet,
or him through the eyes of his glory self.

Rest.In.Peace.

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

Socks on like it's a new day because what else are socks for?
Blues on because it feels like that quick pick of that day,
rock on my headphones because rather that word of dismay,
I go on beat on with the knocks of my soul

Ravage outside to the silence of the greenery,
the birds there are to see
and the glazed of the horses I wink at to help us please

Grunge on with those feet I don't attire,
train tracks with the sights of grafitti of hay wire
I walk into the city with a card-beep on
an en-lurk of the all of a sudden darkest nights
Beat tempo, okay- and a run in of a new sweatshirt for taste
Store closing and where else am I going to go?
Who knew that white, could it? Could it look good on me?

I walk in to my heaven of parade: Bars
I sit down and order a martini,
I go out to hear the distaste of making fun of me
I'm not drunk
I never usually am
I deflower the taste of the shine of liqour,
with my mouth

Though here I am on the street making a self-timer shot
and the man who works at the bar comes out with a blanket
Do you, are you cold?
I laugh and say no, what else are you going to say!

So I leave,
and did a bounce dip in the **** cafe
usually I just order coffee
this time around I felt to engo
one joint please

I'm smoking on the street
because from what I remember this Netherlands,
had a heart beat

I walk into the train station with that card beep
and walk on feeling strangely as 8 cops
head turn
attack me viciously

puking on the floor,
and train guests yell on yeah please!

What a hell of a night- my genious ways says no number please
and with a lawyer
out so swiftly

Morning to a new blue haven
I didn't have that card-beep
but I went in swiftly
lurking on the sides
for the security guard not to see

I made it home
home to me is always blue-ly
because raindrops on sweatdrops and teardrops all do the same
effort-lessly,
Blue-ly

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

It’s that I don’t want you to feel dissapeared?
It’s that I don’t want it to be all about that I said that and it’s all in gone to all about no nothing newsance in knowance
Though it’s just that i said this and said that the words of my last sentence not heard because of a miss on a match on a match on an match
That that’s all of a sudden not what I said because sometimes it’s a twifle of way, I myself feel unheard
Though it matters to me because I wasn’t stancing I was hearing myself talking and it’s not about like why or who or when or what or who with who
It’s that a find in me feels I can’t breathe at a word and I believe all words of mine that I need speaking to need hear to I and when that’s silenced at a match-matched it’s that I don’t care only a tiny little bit of what that other word could have been from another to have secluded my word, in silence.
I trial at trial forth knowing what that word could have been, but I just can’t. It’s just that I should pick that none of it should matter anymore.
XOXO
Alice

© Clarissa van Vreden

Like nothing I write matters anymore?
Go back to writing in books?
Wasn’t there a purpose for writing in the stanza?
Wasn’t there a purpose for coloring to begin at?

Wasn’t there a purpose to help humanity with the non-begs of entirity though proof-work of somethings?

Wasn’t there a non-place though an at-place at purposing with words?
Word and or non-endeavor though word for placing action at for placing?
Wasn’t there a means for some type of entell where others can read and where others can see a pass-by of art?

Why anything at all I question myself as I realize not my body yet but realize there may not be a purpose to anything at all when so much has been done and not a thank you Clarissa for having written/action-ed/placed/…

It’s like what good is anything of doings when feasts are barely feasts and become rather a laugh-at
For it’s that majority prefer to, laugh-at rather than laugh-with.

It’s that there hadn’t been no pleasure in minds though rather seeking pleasure for that as

I can’t recall a place socially anymore online where there was appreciation for statuses re-mongst books or school-type shares with acknowledgement. Besides many of those people are dead not already but somewhere amongst the lines.

It’s never like I say internal but saying like over and over again can by very funny. I don’t want to think about how many have gone about speaking of the word like with everything in between as though it’s humanity though I have written there and that is the truth: Like… Somehow seems to fly by very as easy.

Back to belief in how it may be more to the structure of not writing anywhere is no longer a means for I have done that already and I can’t not not help it.

My body is where I is.

© Clarissa van Vreden

The interchanging elapse
Between the wind and the sun
The air and the rising soil

Comes with how different
Or how yet so the same

As it happens now like when
The pour of rain
The sunshine though
Flickering in the eyes
Over ever-change

Though my eyes see different
Perhaps I’m unkowingly some type of
Colorblind

Moving perhaps forwards or backwards
As I sleep of memoires
And hasty rememberance when I wake up
To of yesterday

Rainbows come in a while usually
Though stagnant in piling up of thought
For it exists

Where and there though
Distinguishable

Fire flames of proving existing now
Like ashes
You’ll never be gone

© Clarissa van Vreden

Ether licking sentipede raising a bar in solitude,
flaming pink aftermath of candle wax,
say raise frequency to the mosquitos and its dandelions,
and the spiders no longer shake
Where the roots of Miss. Dandellion ached the pit of rottening veign.
She never wept like the rain that first dropped on the candle,
but her strength residual in licking sentipede.
Bathing in the bites of mosquitos at a constant,
keeping her ******, alive.

© Clarissa van Vreden

We took each others falsely
noses off
We met each other later
after the bus ride where
everybody took each others
noses off
Where we met in my
romance of not knowing
Where I dissappeared myself,
because we didn't take
each others noses off.

© Clarissa van Vreden

They are crawling here...
where light shed is super freezing lie.
In crooked shatter of demise!
Hell finds light in broken pieces brought from something nice.
Hey! Pure darkness, find here the whisper of your sorrow.
Breath of pure morrow.
Fused like day in today,
brought upon the sound of light!
Dark bell shadow, how you came from yesterdays tomorrow.
Ever change in wonder?
No! Spoke solid in dark and depth, die!
Light, light, light how you marry the poor;
Pieces of tomorrow...

© Clarissa van Vreden

She wore footsteps in her horizon
The fly flew exactly where it was aching to be a bee
The Aunt eater, was nibbling on her toast
The rat was born with its tale first,
Breathing on oxygen

The light has bugs burnt
The rainbow was the only thing left over, to be amazing

© Clarissa van Vreden

I stay here baby
I stay right here

Counting clocks of light shed
Won't break my sun shed
Broken pavements hail a mile home
I'm right here baby I'm right here

Sight seeing of stars encounting
Blossoming everything in growing
Stars glowing
Moon light pouring

I stay here baby
I stay right here
Holding unto
A muse break
A kick into you
A playwright of fight
To sing a song about

And that goes a little bit like
No!
I'm right here baby
I'm right here

© Clarissa van Vreden

Four winds,
four fires,
five flyers,
might migher,
rised higher,
faught tired.

Brought fire,
four liars,
rise flyer,
migh fighter.

Four signs,
water above,
four mighers,
buy, rider.

Five sighers,
tide nicer,
right lighter fire, fire.

Four tiers,
Earth fire.

© Clarissa van Vreden

This memoire...
That Guy was like magic
It was like obscene
Like the internal visual aspect, of yes, my dream

Past night...
I am in love with you.
I can't "see you"
I only cry and I don't know why.
Phsically strong with emotion in nerve endings,
sick.

© Clarissa van Vreden

(to be continued)

You had the way
you had your day
The night turned young
and the birds yeah,
they sung.

Today is different
you're in my psyche,
so far and gone.

Back to this what?
Back to that
My heart is a hummingbird
and you took that back.

See ya tomorrow!

© Clarissa van Vreden

So I’m sitting here right and I’m so **** aggrivated and annoyed that I can’t stand to even right it all down.

It’s like I have those eyes that I see at night staring at me through the daytime. Just one pair of eyes just glaring at me!

It’s just, another way to die.

Though at other times it’s all bubbly and lovely, right now I’m not in the "so called mood."

I’m like haunted, and a bit of fresh air can help me flaunt it. I’m having physical breathing problems and is it just that because of it?

I didn’t mean for this to be lyrical or poetry-like? Am I daunting? I never ask myself me, how I’m like. Because I know me right on not right off the bat.

I’m haunted!

© Clarissa van Vreden

Violets are grey
Berries are blue
Nettles are green
Cherries are red
Berries are purple

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Stems are yellowish
Seeds are green

Violets are grey
Blood is blood

Your blood is red
Mine might be blue,
or yellow, or orange, or pink

© Clarissa van Vreden

As we get higher
we rise deeper in soil
A guardian mirror
like God protecting its mirage
Does one not feel fine through his own reflection?
Although, you look too hard, you get then
not the way you look at the moon
but the way you get too close,
you're afloat in a place you no longer belong
As we dig deeper
we find remain
finally as we fall under
we close our eyes
and there isn't any longer that mirror
from above as so deep under,
there's infinity

© Clarissa van Vreden

It's the evening
There is no thunder, yet
It's bound to happen eventually
It's like the time versus the weather,
and yet there is no knowledge to everything
The mysterious and the real happenings, bound, to be forgotten

© Clarissa van Vreden

I am laying in a daze
where the quivering of the crows have got me in a spin
one of which I've made a spider web without remembering how or when
The days are tumbling like the sea side and I'm deciding whether or not to take this ride; Comforting in no gaps or holes- oh this must be a glorious slide.
I may arrive in a place known where I can't climb back upwards to the place known where my web is that of a still image
and so I go for joy in darkness where I might find a glittering star just like that star, I've gone so far.
My heart made of copper bleeds the insides of my gooey body edging its surroundings turning into vein drops the muse don't break because my heart is with me.
Sometimes I ponder my body is made of silver tear drops, as I wash myself with the rain.

© 2018 Clarissa van Vreden

Look at the dark shadows...
They are crawling here...
Where light shed in super freezing lie.
In cracked shatter of demise!
Hell finds light in broken pieces brought from something nice.
Light, light, light how you marry the poor;
Pieces of tomorrow...
Dark bell shadow, how you came from yesterdays tomorrow.
Hey! Pure darkness,
find here the whisper of your sorrow.
Breath of pure morrow.
Fused like day in today, brought upon the sound of light!
Ever change in wonder?
No! Spoke solid in dark and depth,
die!

© 2018 Clarissa van Vreden