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laura  Feb 2018
comeback kid, The
laura Feb 2018
you run while i gasp and die
uphill as i try to be near you

let’s just scream it all out
make it ring out through the forest
like the trees need to hear our drama

the main battle of the year’s just started
offering the country most beautiful
but your girl’s just not into the drive
in the dark just playing catchup to you
gray rain Jul 2016
I don't know what to write today
Nothing was different so I have nothing to say
I nearly fell asleep in lesson, what does that teach?
maths lectures are boring, I don't want to hear someone preach.
We may have a band name as original as it sounds!
It's a generic name for a band yet to be found.
Science had less stories without my friend next to me
no catchup about the weekend and who we got to meet.
English was just researching any topic of my choice
I chose 'nationalism is bad' to make a speach, so people have to hear my voice.
In history was the usual ****
the teacher talks we write and watch a video clip.
So today was just a boring day
I just hope tomorrow is less grey.
Left Foot Poet  May 2017
I,
Left Foot Poet May 2017
I,
I,
a stranger never to be seen,
a million miles from the scene,
smile and weep,
loving the shallow for its deep,
finding amazement in the complexity
that only humans have
the capacity to commit,
all of us captains of the capital we store,
in the small hallmarks of every day living,
and in an overdue, catchup e-transmission,
a well wish comes true


a poem born,
a kindness to myself,
the best gift of and to,
those who are both,
well,
friends and strangers

who remind us that hope too,
is a
well

3/30/17 8:58
Fish The Pig Nov 2014
So what do you think of me?
You think I don't try?
well I try
oh my god do I try
do I cry
always lie,
you think I'm reclusive
                         elusive
                         aloof
                 and kloof
You think I like it that way,
solitude every day,
think I don't care to talk
or catchup to you and walk
you think there's a reason
I don't and haven't socialized,
well It's because I'm being terrorized.
You can't see it
not from where you sit
step in my shoes
feel what it's like to lose
see the earth on fire
trapped on a spire
a hero holding arms out
too petrified to jump or shout,
you know where safety lies
but black rain falls from black skies
and you're not sure if those arms are for you
or another in need of rescue too.
So hear what it's like
with nowhere to hike
overcome by a thousand eternal flame
that make you think you're to blame
that you feel this way because you set the fire
it got out of control only growing higher,
you feel ostracised and unwanted,
hated ugly and shameful and jaunted.
You live in fear
it's all your fault,
growth maturity and experiences put on halt,
post traumatic stress
a scared, shameful child and nothing less.

So what do you think of me?
think I don't try
I don't care
nothing behind my blank stare,
well there's everything behind these eyes;
apocalypse covered in flies
bruises and scars
heart to the stars
a longing shiver
pristine liver
paranoia and neglect
depression can't forget
a pig reflect
insignificant insect
-So what do you think of me,
look and tell me what you see,
and for you I can guarantee,
nothing is as it should be.
Nat Lipstadt Oct 2016
~for bd~

there is a well in our backyard,
a cooperative well of sorts,
for the water source is a
earth stream deep, an east-west latitudinal,
attitudinal canal,
well traversed, intercontinental and interoceanic,
belonging to no one, free to those who
drink with their eyes

given its diversity,
it's salty sweet earthy soiled provenance,
strike me strange, strikes me well,
its fiercest flavor is its
mundanity,
the plainest cool of tasteless, clear, fresh water,
so easy taken for granted

but therein lies the rub,
for the mundane is the gold vein,
from which we mine our greatest stories,
the best crumbs,
the mineral origins of our words,
to capture the gift of needed inspirational,
for our daily living hymnal
songbook

the aging parental care-taking
wisely and sadly seceded,
the golden child learns lessons of
illness and passing, renewal and replacement,
how to mourn and how to love anew,
when one pet goes, and another comes to
roost and roam in his youthful heart,
and a lover ages and so does she,
for tandem is the ever-changing, graying color of their
fierce attached tenacity

a professor supervises the household management,
grading student papers, grading life,
secretly writing love paeans to celebrate
what it's all about, the visible so oft ignored,
recorded, recored, reordered,
in the observatory of
bed crumb starry words

I,
a stranger never to be seen,
a million miles from the scene,
smile and weep, loving the shallow for its deep,
finding amazement in the complexity
that only humans have the capacity to commit,
all of us captains of the capital we store,
in the small hallmarks of every day living,
and in an overdue,
catchup e-transmission,
a well wish comes true,
a poem born,
a kindness to myself,
the best gift of and to,
those who are both,
well,
friends and strangers

who remind us that hope too,
is a
well

~~~~~
The Message

Hello Natty man....we are all well...but it has been a busy and difficult year, Mum finally went into residentail care, very busy at work, the golden boy grows in leaps and bounds, my surfer dude grows more grey hairs as do I....sadly there has been a shift change in the demigods of the house the little blue cat, got sick (bowel cancer)...and after much heartache..we made the decision to let him go with dignity and he was put to sleep...We are now presided over by a little tuxedo boy (still a devon rex)....whose energy is sometimes insurmountable....he and the golden boy have bonded....*

hope all is well your end
Take care...and be kind to you
I read a message, I write a poem...
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2016
being insulted by someone
of a trans-
                     status quo
classification
                         will never be enough
to mind, had i the pairing
to a higher tier of socialite endeavour -
to be debased with a fragrance of
a misuse of language
on a level of comprehension will
always place me steadied with placards
of 'hello, my name is Samauel'
well hello Samuel..
boiled herrings pan-fried readied for
a star wars sequel akin to rocky 7,
boxing-catchup K.O. no.31 -
an here the champ gives way to a chimpanzees'
worth of gurgled laughter -
readied speed at a Bronson's uppercut -
and we're too the readied ones
annex to the molars that might be considered
the chewing apparatus should
we not have juiced with bites as if a load's
worth of hammering was taken place:
chewing as if hammering, imagine
the cranium gush extract - it would be
like porridge if reverse due to diarrhoea!
flaky ****-bits and anaconda's suntan to measure up to;
well, there was the leather chair to mind
in terms of approving leisure activity as coercing
a carefree fortitude of futuristic investment -
mind you the loss of the Celtic vocabulary,
I.R.A. and the instigation of Anglo-Saxon
vocabulary to suppress the populace
of renegade Catholics or the twin Belfast known
as Glasgow - indeed Edinburgh remained
as much conservative as St. Andrew's would allow,
an extension of England, even with parliament
it was a Basildon of northern Essex...
scots among the multitude of accents usurped from
pole-dancing with kilts! Tartan su doku!
I had desire to ride
the streetcars of my youth
I ran from the wild mustangs
in the box canyons of my mind
The muddy waters of the river
made me sick in mind and body
As the infestation of black crickets
covered the streets of night and time

When I rode west I was chasing the past
that I have yet to catchup to
I fell from the peaks of my mountains
only to be evicted from the valleys below
Dwelt in punishment in the balcony
of my ways
As the lashes left nothing more than
mental anguish buried in the ashes of sin

I found no blood in the peach orchards
nor any breath in the fields of water melons
I was made thirst in the shallow oasises
of my eyes
left to desicate fulfilling such promises
as , "Ashes to Ashes , Dust to Dust ."
With nothing inbetween
Jack Jenkins  Jun 2018
...yeah...
Jack Jenkins Jun 2018
You're the kid
Who didn't have anxiety
Growing up

You're the kid
Who was never abused
Parents didn't lay a finger on me

You're the kid
Who didn't fit in your Christian family
Black sheep

You're the kid
Who saw everyone else suffer
But not you

...not you...

The few friends you had
When they left, were they worthy?
Or did you **** it up again?

Your faith is misfired, again
Schizophrenic
A brittle child and a brute

Did you spare your skin the razor
Just to cut your heart on glass?
Chew and swallow every shard

You're four drinks in tonight, Jack
Your mind on repeat
Thinking of lost things

...fleeting things...

Jason Mraz serenades your
Buzzed mind
"I Won't Give Up"

That was "the song" for her
You gave up Jack
Pour the fifth glass

You're just a kid
Playing catchup on anxiety
Growing old

You're just a kid
Savoring every sharp word
Disappointment

You're just a kid
Quitting faith when it's hard
Begging for love when you're alone

You're just a kid
Suffering and nobody sees you
Just me

...yeah...
betterdays  May 2014
slipsliding
betterdays May 2014
now awake....
this morning is
.. .brittle
grass crunches,
beneath slippered feet.
newspaper, slick and cold.
in the bird bath,
a clingwrapping of ice.
the cat, stiff legged and
complaining for the
internal sun...
grumpyboys in doonas,
eating porridge and
watching animated things.
sun just playing catchup.
shadows now, stubbornly long and windows fogged
with warm breath.

autumn....
slipsliding into winter...
on brittle morning's ice.
LylexRose Jan 2019
Been thinking...
It's about time I made some changes...

Came so far now and I feel free
So free, 9 to 5 stress, call in green delivery
But eventually problems set in, it's only Monday
Loved as one, feel so gone and my future looks ugly
Jurry and executioner, can you please judge me
Money and pain go down the drain, and it's getting harder for me
Creating issues from problem solutions, still act toughie
Don't try to rush me
Midnight-mares ride through the night, it's scary
And "all this time I couldn't see
How could this be
That the curtain is closing on me"
Emin- NFing music discovery
Drop these drugs down the drain, head to rehab recovery
Problem facing, defacing, move to different countries
Running a race but never winning cos running from you is destroying me
Blowing smoke 24/7, this can't good for me
Keep on rolling sticky green, I'm in 3 deep
My complicated encampment, you see
You know I'm doing my best but does he?
Yeah...
It's hard for me to ask this
When I don't even have a mattress
Used excuses to delete this stress
I may changed ******* nothing, at least I can confess
It's been 15 years and I'm still a ******* mess

I apologise for all the lies
Decite it spreads like fire
My future could've burned so bright
Now I'm stationary, grips me like a vice
But lost my touch and I'm colder than ice
I stopped giving a **** just me, myself and I
But maybe that's just life
Do I dare ask why?

I was the butterfly, who had spread his wings to fly
Barely left the leaf only to be shot down, fall and die
Countless nights that I counted, where these issues filled my eyes
I can't help it, it's how I was raised by life
Now I'm going to go far to both yours and mine surprises
Chasing dreams all despite this,
Dripping in Bape and gold chains
Changing myself just to stay the ******* same
You know I never thought life was great
But **** if she's complainin'...
But **** if I'm staying...
But **** it I think I'm going insane
But **** if this is direction I decide to go...
And I know
Just how to create a flow
So why should I loose it if I know
Is it a gift or is it curse only time will show
Death: it'll set you free and let you go
Eventually it'll catchup to us both
So I'm leaving off this verse
In the back of a Herse
But in the end it was myself I hurt...
Fresh start?
Eye of Horus...
Thought not...
of course...
"Is he getting old"...
"Does he bore us?"...
Enough rhymes for a lifetime
Check my inventory
You know how I'm going out
Blaze of glory...
Well I'm back...
End of story...

I apologise for all the lies
Decite it spreads like fire
My future could've burned so bright
Pen to the pad, I'm stationary, grips me like a vice
But lost my touch and I'm colder than ice
I stopped giving a **** just me, myself and I
But maybe that's just life
Do I dare ask why?
I don't know... but I'll try

— The End —