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4d · 277
Volumes of silence
Words  mean volumes,
        When none

Are spoken.
Poetic T Apr 14
When would a thorn and petal,
                 look so unavailable.
One sharper than any wit,
that would make you laugh
                at even the saddest moment.

Smooth like sandpaper always saying
               the mostly badly timed
Yet her voice was scented and smooth.
              No matter what her words
                                             wrapped around,
no offence could be taken.

I offered her a rice crispy cake when we
                                                               first met..
As she struggled for breath I started the
                            kiss of life..

Then she grabbed her pen stabbing it in my arm
                                 not hers..
                                the blood and all I remember

was lips on mine.. she'd managed to pen herself.
I didn't realise she had a nut allergy.
         but as I awoke her lips breathing into me.
I thought id repay the favour.

                        I've never been kissed so passionately
                                                     before death she said.

I was her petal and she was the thorn.

                           she'd giggle at a funeral,

I'd cry thoughts of the past of what was cut short.

               but in her eyes, it wasn't sadness but joy,

that so many had turned up to see you
             this last time. And the dreadful outfit
                        you'd picked to spend eternity in.
Poetic T Apr 13
I don't know your story, I've never read
a paragraph of you life..
                    I'll not lie I don't know when

your life became a doodle circling around

But I've been through things you've never
                 wrote about.
                                              But I'm still here.

Don't think that a page will never turn,
              that a paragraph became a sentence
                 then a singular word


I cant hold you I've never even met you.
              But if I just listen to your voice
its cutting me inside.
          but I'm here for you, a voice shining
in the dark places where your own voice
                                         had deafened you.

We can talk for as long as you want.

                         please insert coins in..
                         this call will end in

Then your gone..

But I redial and I hear the tears circle the
                  phone cord, tightly grasping around your
                                                              vocal cords.

I'm here for you, ill stay till the silence isn't so profound
         when your  voice inside isn't so loud.

Just sleep on it after weve talked.
            No your not alone, after I'm gone
                      talk to a friend, realise that they'll
be a brick in the wall to hold you up,
                                                          not to crumble.

Remember that I'm hear, now lets just talk.
Poetic T Apr 12
No matter the clap that may fall
           before the thunder all
is but static vocalization

brought on by a contraption
               of air that after its initial


golds nothing more than a breeze.

And although it may seem loud at the time,
                 its just posturing to spread fear..  

but once the  air dissipates it nothing more
                     than what was heard large amounts

of condensed air... that was meant to scare...

               But in reality it learnt us to understand that
even though noises are loud there's an explanation

              that it was just meant to scare and in reality
once you learn the truth.
                  Your free to understand that everything
                              is an illusion, till you understand

                          the truth behind the noise of lies.
Apr 12 · 79
Cupids Decay
Poetic T Apr 12
They thought she was  loves venture
but instead she was less than belief.
                           Her arrows weren't as others thought.

                     Poisoned shards of lovers

worst contemplations of what love meant,
                            infatuation contorted within the head.

Where love meant a beating within,
                 she was a rose that wanted to
                 beat the thorns till flesh bleed...

They thought she was unhinged,
                                  but she  wanted trust..

              until she bleed it from you.

She enjoyed the double barrel within
              your mouth.
        One for the heart, one for the mind..

Would you pull both, suffer the pain of
         a crazy love that tore your emotions,
            and then threw them in the air ablaze...

She knew that you could take the pain,
           and then  she drew blood deeper

as every blade in the heart
                 cut deeper but you let her bled
                    you out..

             and the last thing you did was smile...
Poetic T Apr 6
life's ****** up
          before you have

a red bull and co-codamol

then everything has wings..

              and nothings a pain
                               its just numb,

till reality

          hits 5 minutes before bed,

Then who gives a **** till tomorrow.

                      Rise and then repeat....
Poetic T Apr 6
A gaze falls
like a sunset


setting in the same spot
Apr 6 · 61
You Escape Me Always
Poetic T Apr 6
Will I gain a leverage,
              but be below your gaze,

How can something so levitated
              flow like a river below

my feet, yet move me in so many ways.

Your like the wind, always inhaling you

But always feeling you caress my face.

Your an enigma of my life, felt within every fibre,
                         but with ever expansion of self

you escape me..
Poetic T Apr 6
We were buried beneath the footsteps
                                 of generals insecurities.
Like dominos ready to fall when we
                 climbed the wall and fell
before our time...

But we where the steps of others
                  collecting behind our graves
of flesh they hid.
                      Ricochets flew past those
hid behind the regrets of friends silently
                                   shielding there dreams.

Please let our steps be counted,
                   no matter how many never
fall to the beat of the drums..

          Ours are silent, never to tread once again,
                                   we are the fallen.
Like leaves we decay in the ground.
               some buried some never to be found,
Just blossoms of white buried beneath the earth.
Mar 29 · 161
Your Move...
Poetic T Mar 29
We are but chess peices,
      And the next move is
Never predetermined...

For we are a fluctuation of
      Random interactions.

Fate can't cage us,
for we are  always
                     two steps
That are never the same.

         Your move make it wisely.
Mar 24 · 86
The Rooms Within Me
Poetic T Mar 24
Open a door
          and find it closed

on the other side...

But the window was locked
              but still you climbed


I walked in the room,
            to find the grass plentiful.

But the flowers never blossomed.

And still I walk around even
                               though no steps
                               were ever taken.
Mar 24 · 99
There Is No Antidote
Poetic T Mar 24
Inclination is a contagion
         that affects the cerebral cortex.
Infecting other organs in a complex
                                method of defilement.

Once one has succumb to the influence
             of this pathogen, the following
                                 is woeful in its method

1. Heart rates do palpitate to an extreme beat
2. Part of mind isn't playing on the same spreadsheet.
3. All reactions of thought & heart aren't as discrete.
4. AWOL are the rationalities within every heartbeat.

But still those who fall foul of this moment,
                           do not wish for a cure even though
out of ten three prove semi-fatal for a time to these organs.
            They still live,
                       but singular,
                o­­f what made them in pain.

But they will once again look for one who is a carrier,
                        to be once again infected by this moment..

I must confess that I have fell foul,
               and my clock ticks with not one
                      but another beat..

Infection isn't as bad as I once believed.
                I just hope that I contaminate her
                life with more than she infected me.
Poetic T Mar 21
Every word we pen
             is an extension of self.
For we are a looking glass
                   on the world around us.
                                 Some times dark

others times woven in delight.

Never throw away your words,
           just change them.

Do not scrunch the paper up,
                 mould it to a paper aeroplane

and watch where your words soar too..
Poetic T Mar 21
We're a  memory in a jar
              never getting full.

But those who think it
         is empty and worthless,

do not understand thought.

For it is fluid,
                and all liquid
             eventually  evaporates.

Causing a storm to rain
          down on us.

Refreshing what nearly ran dry..
Mar 20 · 287
Morning Medicine
Poetic T Mar 20
Coffee is the antidote
          to my morning
                                  anger issues...

Unfortunately today
                         I ran out..

So the world can
           be quite,
     till I pop to the shops...
Mar 15 · 105
Drowning Without Water
Poetic T Mar 15
As I drown beneath your smiles,
                you hold my head static.
Smiles gasp for breath, even though
             on the outside I'm holding it in.

And  as I sink to the bottom
          I  hold my last gasp,
Even though it hurts to hold this pose.

                    My life was suffocating smiles,

Chocking on every memory of what
             we once swam in I now know..

                   that I'm drowning.

And your
                           gently suffocating me beneath
        your words..

And I cant swim on the surface,
            I'm drowning
within you.
Mar 15 · 64
She Was A Fire Fly..
Poetic T Mar 15
She was the fire fly that I held
                        in a jar of frailty.

But no matter the temptation
              I kept her withheld.
The world that was concussively shallow
                                           without her brightness.

Could I contain the light that was needed,
               it gasped at  breath
                                       brightly before me.

There was too much oxygen to keep
            her kept.

                      For when the jar fractured,
her light shined brighter like a super nova
                                               of minimal proportions.

When I let her fly free of her shackles,
                       woven in the fabric of evanescence.

Life momentarily seemed to mean more than
                  when it was kept clasped in a jar
                                                 of visualised reflection..

And every rising sunrise burnt brighter
                      as lingering  fire flies kept
                          ignited within the vocal
                    message that light had rose once again.
Poetic T Mar 14
My mind is like a full sink,
        sometime I just
                    need to empty it.

Because the words
                I washed up in,
            left a residue that needed
to cleaned out
                          every so often.
Poetic T Mar 14
Malignant gazes warped the
the fabric of the air around me.
I couldn't do anything but tell
her that to wish upon a dying star
                          will never end well.

The atrocity that clung to the ships
hull, was no less human now than
    the artificial meat 3d printed..
It taste liked chicken,
            there were no eggs in space.

Words like plasma cannons fired
around me bouncing off the walls.
Ok, ok listen I didn't do this to you!
Your the penny that could pay the price,
and this is your tarnished self pity.

I wasn't having any of her grief,
       though it could vacate me with ease.
Standing before her I said I could less
cure her than breath in space..

With that she raged in a language
of ferocious exasperation.
I knew that it was time to vacate her
need for some sort of vengeance.
I'd got the necklace on under my garments.

Pointing my pistol at her, she smirked,
             then a gargled laugh spat out.
That toy cant harm me, is this your last
stand what a pointless endeavour..

Now it was my turn to smirk,
        I don't know if it was panic
or confusion to why I was laughing.
            like a hyena knowing that the
pray had just cornered itself.

With that I shot past her, like a
random act, I still laughed loudly.
And then a buckling ache approached.
As the hull cleaved open like a piñata
hit feverishly by an excited child.  

As we where exhumed from our coffin,
suffocating in the emptiness of my actions.
I could see her fear, no matter her augmentations,
nothing could survive the vacuum of space.
I pressed upon my chest, my nanite suit
encompassing me.
            I was like a new born taking a first breath

Looking at this sorrowful figure, floating
in to the abyss. I knew I was partly to blame.
But now was not the time for respective thoughts.
This was about survival, and I used the small thrusters
to edge closely to the air lock.
                       Time to move on, time to breath deeply.
Mar 14 · 113
Changing Our Path
Poetic T Mar 14
The diversity of ones
path, is a well
trodden one. But we
must sometimes try anew.

For without walking upon
other routes, we'll get
lost on the path
we've walked aimlessly on.

Though we may get
lost, we'll find our
footing. And then a
new scenery will awaken.

And through life we
may change our direction.
Each footstep will always
give us different perspectives.
Mar 10 · 82
Poetic T Mar 10
Glutinous envy consumed
                         her features.

Once a creation of life's art.

Distortional envy cracked,
                               a fractured shell.
                            Pieces fitting incorrectly.
Poetic T Mar 9
The Devil never
          killed anyone,

              he let gods children

do that in his name...
Mar 9 · 109
Genital Metaphor
Poetic T Mar 9
Woman have
                  more ***** then men
most of the time.

       It's pity that

men are bigger *******
                      all the time...
Mar 9 · 76
Tying Shoe Laces
Poetic T Mar 9
If you want to walk in another's  
           always tie the laces..

That way you can
                    feel the tightness,
  And the holes in there soul.

            let them walk
with you for a while.

That way they know that
every path
                    isn't walked alone.
Mar 9 · 91
Stabbed In The Back
Poetic T Mar 9
If some one stabs you in the back,

               see who pulls it out.

There the ones you have to be careful of.

Because if they saw who did it and didn't
stop it..
         they just wanted to see you in that pain.
Poetic T Mar 9
If I always relived the same day.

                                  The only thing
that I'd never get fed up of seeing
                                                 is you.
Mar 9 · 74
Clear Thoughts
Poetic T Mar 9
I think more clearly when I sleep,

        its when I'm awake,

that I'm overly confused???
Mar 9 · 177
Always Listening
Poetic T Mar 9
In a world of noise,

            you were my silence.

And I just listened to you all day.
Mar 9 · 119
Never Really
Poetic T Mar 9
I was never really
                 a me person,

                 but I was always

a you person..
Mar 9 · 93
Open To You
Poetic T Mar 9
We are all locks,
           that only a few keys
                          can unlock.

But you weren't like the
you picked mine and discarded it.

From then on, I was always open to you..
Mar 9 · 69
Empty Jars Hold More
Poetic T Mar 9
People think I'm just
an empty jar
                 with a lid on it.

But you took the lid off,
and looked underneath

And it said!

"If your reading this
              then you know
             looks can be deceiving,

I wasn't ever empty,
                           I just didn't
                            show myself.

But you saw underneath the façade.
Mar 9 · 92
Turning Over Pages
Poetic T Mar 9
I was never really
         a book to read.

Most people understood
                me in a sentence.

The rest of me, was just doodles.
                And if you got to the next
you didn't really know me at all.
Mar 9 · 107
My Affliction On You
Poetic T Mar 9
I'll never be the petals.

                   I prefer to be the thorn.

That way when you bleed,
            at least you know
            what your holding is real.
Mar 9 · 95
Life Lesson 3
Poetic T Mar 9
Mar 9 · 87
Life Lesson 2
Poetic T Mar 9
Mar 9 · 89
Life Lesson 1
Poetic T Mar 9
         cut you.
Mar 9 · 119
Spare Change
Poetic T Mar 9
The price of love is

The currency of
                  heartache is

                  spare change.

But I'd rather
be broke,
              and have you.
Mar 9 · 565
Looking Both Ways
Poetic T Mar 9
I never looked both ways
             when I fell in love..

And was hit hard
                   bruised & cut
         I healed.

I looked both ways
              when I saw you
on the other side.

This time I waited.

       You asked me
               why I crossed this
road again?

And I said because if the
            chicken can do it..

With that she laughed.
      smiling she asked

"Would I cross any road,

I said, only yours to see what awaits
                                 on the other side
Mar 9 · 273
Needle & Wool
Poetic T Mar 9
I was the needle and
        you the wool..

Before we were one,

                I was blunt and
you where unwoven..

But once we came together.

                         We where entwined
in the creation of what we became.

You where the binding of everything,
               that I sewed every effort into.

And together we created something
                                                  that lasted.
Mar 9 · 172
Pantie Sneezes
Poetic T Mar 9
Sniffing her **** cloth,
                    so fresh..

Hanging in the wind..
The moon shows him,
               there like flags on
                        a hill top to capture...

She wakes up in the morning
             to find that her Frenches

have gone a miss...

Hearing the sneezes,
             from her next door
but one neighbour..

"You perv..
                "Watch out what you sniff,

Her ****** never went missing after that day,

                           but her eyes did water a few
                                                              da­ys later...

Forgetting that the itching sneezing  powder
                                      wasn't in only one..
           and she giggled as she gently scratched.
Mar 9 · 65
Heavy Facade
Poetic T Mar 9
Every page that I wrote upon
                        scribbling words
                                 syllable features
of the faces I was trying to peel on
                            the pages.

But then I ******* each one up,
           reflections sewn on again.
blunt metaphors reattached
                                    that I had
           been able to remove where

one again back where they began.

All I needed was to remove this
                                 weight hanging
heavy upon my every façade.
Mar 7 · 130
The fire was never lit
Poetic T Mar 7
Where just *******
               on a fire
        isn't even  lit

Expecting to keep
                        us warm
           with smoke choking
                      our resolutions.
Mar 5 · 138
Gather Me Upon
Poetic T Mar 5
Gather me upon the wind,
       so I may whisper words
                                        of serenity.

Gather me upon the ground,
         so I may feel the footsteps of
                                  another's life.

Gather me upon the waters,
        so I may wash within the
               memories of teardrops.

Gather me upon the embers
            so that I may warm upon
                      the thoughts of others.

We may gather for many reasons,  
              different aspects of the same

But we all have that moment in life
                   where each one will touch
                                             our lives.
Feb 27 · 227
Riding the Stitches
Poetic T Feb 27
I held the Stanley knife to
                          my wrist..

Holding on to the grip,
              trying to warm the

cold metal...

I was there for the whole of my

But the blade was never within it..

I just needed to know that
                    I was strong
                            enough to not make the

mistake of giving in.

And this was a reminder,
                as the first time the metal was cold..

And the blood warm.

                   Now I  remind myself that
even though I hold a blunt instrument
                          its a reminder that given time
everything cuts...
Poetic T Feb 27
They said my life was
                     just dead-ends..

So I just got out my car..

Walked over the fields,
                 and walked along
another path of life..

Just because some one says  your life  
                                        are dead ends..
That doesn't always mean you should

because after every dead end
                   is another journey,
                   just in a different direction.
Feb 27 · 114
Poetic T Feb 27
Aloft starlight
                      shimmering in
  separation of its kin..

Not realising that everyone,
     is a pre-recording.
           A blink in time,
to tell them they where there..

Then darkness, and they
                 are more alone than

                      ­          before...
Feb 27 · 79
Smothered Love..
Poetic T Feb 27
I could hear her words,
       like an echo through water.

But I want drowning.

  When I was in the ****
          I swam in darkness..

Now all I see is
            white heavy clouds,
            depriving me of breath...

The last thing I saw was my mother
as my father
        ran with me, then I saw blue..

And knew he'd never let me drown
                          in her arms..
Poetic T Feb 27
Where all the victims
                             of imaginary friends

Still talking
                         even though

They never really said

We Just made them
                        to make
         excuses for our weaknesses.
Feb 27 · 110
Late Snow..
Poetic T Feb 27
As late snow fell,
                                    the buds.

                            Frozen foetus
           of spring,
                      never blossoming.
Poetic T Feb 27
The lumber jack, was on his way
Driving through a woodland of
                                creaking trees.

They found his car, the rooftop
         gusts of wind blew through
                                     the tree tops...

And the coroner and police officer
           they gazed at each other..

Is it me or does the wind blowing
             through the leaves sound like


And with that another branch fell
upon the already mangled wreckage..

             They had to make sure he was
                                  really felled,
                            there was no warning.

And as the breeze continued the noise
                turned to screams, whistling
                                                 around the pair..

Both cars where found later on
                                               the next afternoon..
                 hundreds of meters from each other with..

                                         Buckled rooftops..

Even there was no wind, the rustling leaves
                               sounded like far away laughter..
                                and the group just looked in confusion.
They where outnumbered and didn't even realise it.
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