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Leal Knowone Mar 2015
Falling angels

Black evil
Whispering taunting tantalizing
Teaching you dark secrets
Fallen angel (echo)



Fallen angel once flew high
Life of humaneness gone rotten
Humble equilibrium
Both darkness and light consumes them

falling angel (echo)
tantalizing
H J St Oct 2012
Sí.  You do.

When You . . .

Pour me your 'cuppa'.
I taste your morning.

Text me your emoji.
I know your expression.

Spout out your wit.
I laugh out loud.

Show me what you see.
I behold your clear view.

Awash me in your color.
I'm ablazed by your vibrance.

Throw me your smile.
I throw one back.

Send me your music.
I feel your mood.

Choose your words deliberately.
I absorb your meaning.

Share your day.
I simply smile.

Take me with you.
I see your world.

Ask me to 'Please S'Plain.
I value your sweet inquiry.

Seek to understand.
I feel worth.

Kinda like our bubble.
I breathe more air.

Fall for the make-believe.
I fall for it too.

Just sayin the truth.
I admire your honesty.

Reply with warm understanding.
I adore your  sweetness.

Share your insight.
I de-code.... reflect.

Breathe with inspiration.
I feel alive.

Send me your portrait.
I stop and stare.

Unveil your expressions in Face Time.
I'm drawn to touch the screen.

Show your sweet vulnerability.
I admire your courage.

Speak your true voice.
I know your choice.

Respond with Yeah! & Yah!
I feel your shine.

Feel like falling.
I hold you.

Share your fear and pain.
I help you to regain.

Tip toe with ambivalence.
I hesitate and wait.

Say 'What are we doing here?'
I doubt. I wait... I wait...

Take 1 step in, 1 step out.
I ponder poetry to pull you in.

Shuffle in and out of the room.
My heart rises and falls each time.

Promote healthy boundaries.
I respect them.

Throw me your x.
I feel your affection.

x softly and slowly
I smile and blush.

Risk your heart.
I trust (again).

Reveal your pure humaneness.
I endear to you.

Touch me.
I dissolve.

Brush my cheek.
My breath slows.

Kiss my chin.
My self opens.

Breathe me in.
I take you in.

Reveal your true presence.
I understand your existence.

Adore my presence in your life.
I adore your presence in my life.

(c2j2c)

ps.
C
Our fleeting moments in this bubble shimmer.
These subliminal and true moments we share.
I see hints of your presence and scribble them on paper.
These words of your essence exists with me in here.
J
Àŧùl Feb 2019
You can experience it
Coming from most of
The writers around the
Block of Writers Block
Only to be saved by the
Bunch of Writers from
The Writers' Block.

They can call you names,
Ranging from A ******
To A Grammar ****.
But don't be put off,
Don't be put out,
Just hold on.
Hold your ground.

You might have OCD,
The Obsessive Compulsive Disorder,
Don't worry - just channel it well.
Channel it well and play your tunes,
Don't worry about the runes,
They will be all covered with ink.
Yes, the electronic ink.

For all eternity, they say,
You can never achieve perfection,
And it should not concern you.
Just remember your wordlust,
Coin new and better words,
Just play your sweet lute.
Yes, you are so cute.

"What's so cataclysmic about the apostrophe?"
You asked me,
And legitimately so.
It's the difference 'tween us,
Perfection and poets,
Godliness and humaneness.
Divinity and profanity.

"Yes, perfection is sacrilege,"
I say, "Perfection is an ambition,"
"Of humanity and nature."
I take a deep breath before saying,
"In the knowledge available,"
"It's just a figment."
You ask me, "Where is it located?"

I say:
Find it 'fore some letters,
You can find it afta' some letters,
Lockin'n'poppin words together,
The apostrophe is so savoury & flexible
I just hope that I never become,
A Grammar Apostate -
I'll rather be ill instead.
My HP Poem #1732
©Atul Kaushal
Mitchell May 2012
The knife sharpens itself
By a naked hand
Gripped by the thoughts of home
And happenings
Of Matthew's killings

Since in the own self
Accountings are remembered
Politely thinking that
Everything you've seen so far
Is a game

There is nothing
That is not your own
And Oh My God
There is once a place
That you know now
There is something you are up against
Yet you don't know what it is

Marching roves
Of men with the geeks and their money
Sweat trickles from the
Leather books of their
Leather shredded souls of the ******
And here the stone piles lay
The guts of a revolution
Paid off with nothing
But the blood of the brain washed equipped

So
The swearing of news
Of lands split apart by differences
Arms themselves with theories
Ways of living
Separation of man to man

And business
Is as loud
And as quick
As the shot
From a gun barrel

We are lead by
Monsters
So in turn
We are only minions
Of Monsters

Preceding in a
Discovery
Of an old enemy that
Swears that blood
Would never be
Thicker then their hate

The blasts
Begin
As the age of man
Is dressed
In fresh spilt
Sin

And there is the check of the
Young solider at his stone hedge fund
We wheeze for the riches
Of the looks of the great scholars
And lepers of the lost celebrities
Going through all
Of the way things are and the way
Things will be and the present step
We all seem to be obsessed with taking

Walk to the gates of the pearly gates
Sounds of bullets and scream to be heard
Our name, our humaneness, dampens
As we flatten on the torn apart dusty stone
Caught with one eye on the ground, their
Ears bent to hear any kind of sound

Excuses let not alone in warmth an hot bullet
Where former life lived now shows but death
We men, hot in our hurry to correct one another
Excuses everything where we should excuse nothing
And in blood He bathes in bullet casings
A former shell of the man after heathen he hath killed

Though pressed on silken angels wings where
We seek refuge for forgiveness after pleasure
Released' are we when the light is shone upon us
Each word to be released is to be sent to heaven
Our brothers, nodding to the likeliness of our worth
Sees their eyes within the pupils of us, our own brothers

Thunder where the proud is not equal
We marked nothing that could not be fought
Good or bad was not the answer we sought
For we only sought justice in the eyes of good men
We know not how to do too little or too much
We only turn our eyes to the home of our good selves

To the hawk the family runs away from its own mother
She tidies as bullets **** by in their boys imagination
To spread your wisdom is to also spread your disease
Seek the seed of of your turmoil, see you spread your knowledge
To the youth you produced you wished could be free of your curse
The night touches the lips of the innocent as the moon eclipses
Temporal breaths form on the authorities that swear their allegiance

Where time cries we see the shallow man weep their **** of time
The hallways echo with their cries of selfish uselessness
Preciousness shows light on His eye whose end is inevitable
The clapping senate, in their circle, their suits, their wives with sherry
Make no conversation to the people for their wounds are too deep
The people - with their lack of voices - show their mouths with no sound
As the greying suits like the bones within the earth clap to their own accomplishments
The laughs, those haunting laughs, are heard faintly over the lapping of forgotten blood

What must we say of custom but that it is boring
We make the throne to it as we see the revolutionaries toss stones at it
They who hold their essence, their truth to it
Sacrifice their children - later in vain - for the cause of it
Dear custom, you are the one who holds the red hot chain of control
Not the Devil or God or Tyrant or Executioner or Law Men
Ney! We must see that custom is the crutch of all Men
Unwilling to step foot on grounds which they know nothing of
Here - on these mysterious grounds - lays a life better than the last
Here lays a life not afraid of time or change of the ill effects of history
Here stands Ahab and his ship sailing for the mighty ****

In place our God's shed only their light on the one's that resemble themselves
Picked out to present the gift they have been sharing for eternity
The lights shine bright on the eye's of the one's of the camera
Lo' the mud is still ***** lined with a sickness that tries not to be forgotten
We wheeze for we are human yet the God's provide no cure
We die only to be tossed back into their pool of games
They who plays by the rules is imprisoned in a losing game
Rules, a shackle and chain, all presented by the creator of the frame

Prepare for the soft spoken telling of the charging of the army
Our men, sword to sword, relishes their hate in the blade
How deep can a man hate when they **** every innocent soul around them?
We pass through sheds of shifting christian childish light that cries
Time pleases of the Shakespearian wears that hold a truth who shouts "Not now, not now!"
Soothing ourselves with the honored number of the royalty that swears
To be mixed with the minnows of the common man to be a unholy injustice
Man turns to God and man turns man into the dirt with which they march on

And in the breath of a love of mankind
An innocence whose mess could bring you tears
And a thankfulness that only bears the strength to show Her fear
We are made of the same blood, the same muscle, the same skin
Yet we fight to the death just to see who will turn up on top and win
Can the hill of our ego's ever be conquered?
Where is our peaceful hill that many wish to live and wander?
Bloodshed is apart of mankind
But there is another side
One that is washed in the ***** pebbles of a forgotten city
And the waves of a mysterious endless ocean
There we will find our answer but I'm going back to
A place I've never been before
Where the piano player plays whatever He wishes
And the midnight wind grants me
A couple of moonlit kisses

Oh the politics of theatre
No, my mistake!
The theatre of politics!
We ask to say this when the cue lands
And the mass of man claps or
Boo's, swearing that with either
There is nothing to lose
We are the mob of the Roman empire
With ipads, ipods, the internet and smart phones
Technology tells us who we think we are
Yet
We are still the stinking rats in the stands
Gnawing on the priced bronze haunches of pig
Chewing dirt with flesh and flesh with dirt
Imaginations as wide as the forehand can stretch
Thinking that a glass based GPS system sets us apart
(They did it with paper and parchment)
Spiraling towards a repetitious existence

I wish not to be human
Yet
I am cursed
To be so

To be apart of
What I will be
Forever

Forces me

To favor the good
Within myself

Within
All of us
Ever so silent in pain
Dour in death’s anguish
Called dumb by us men
To have their strength I wish.
Dumb yes without a remedial mean
No succor for them no medicine
In my backyard under open sky
These mute little fluffs quietly die.
I feel remorse a passing penitence
To have never been able to bridge the distance
Act in time for the help of a vat
Can’t count my humaneness, it’s just a poor cat.
Poor yes but with a strength underneath
To brace death the way they do
Uncomplaining till their last breath
Leaving me a lesson or two!
Yekaterina Ko Jan 2014
After the makeup—
The thick layers you insist on painting—
After the jewels
And the fashionable clothes
As well as your glossy hair,
After all that’s off
You know what’s left?

What’s left isn’t the pimples,
The dark circles
The limpness of your hair
The unkept, unruly appearance you hide.
What’s left is a perfect image
An image that means true beauty
I can see the clearness
The fragileness
The humaneness that is you
All I see is someone
That I don’t need to chase
And that I don’t need to glorify
Under false pretenses


y.k.
Keshan Oct 2016
Obnoxious arguments; I rant only
My words, shard glass tearing souls
No exception is there, my wrath is equal upon all
Though for you, are the wounds mendable.
Excuse myself in rage, do I never
A barrage do I release, to free myself
Humaneness, my preach to oppose another
The hurt I inflict, is remembered by my own.
As your silence befalls me, my guilt grows
My thoughts erratic, not whole
What was spoken, can not be refunded
A friend, a foe; my acts deceive.
The loathe towards myself, my cell cast
Forgiveness a key, you grant.
Mitchell Mar 2012
No
There wasn't any
Heartbreak

There were
Not too many
Tears

I was surprised

I was astonished

I was feared

And loved

All at the same time

The crowd saw who
Was who and who
Was not

When the cards are down
And the eyes finally clear

Who is remembered
Is the thing
That matters most

We forget the ones
Who died in the trenches
Who were immolated from within
Who sounded but were never found

We forget the ones
Who died for this and
Who lost a limb for that and
Crippled their minds for them

Love stripped from their souls
Replaced by the dark horror
Of man's humaneness

Who are we to ask for such a sacrifice?
Who are we to send away the living for death?
Who are we to shake our heads in feigned understanding?

Who are we?

The dust will never settle
The sun will always rise
And fall
On the foggy eyes of war

And as the bayonets lay scattered,
Their bearers
Bearing no resemblance
To their former selves

And try
To
Hear

The echoing scream
The rippling shot
The cursed' crying corpses

Try to hear

The frankness

Of death.
woolgather  Apr 2016
Tragic
woolgather Apr 2016
I write again;
Writing, my blues,
Writing, my bleeding heart;
Writing, my bleeding faith.

I once was like everyone else,
A believer, an optimist;
Then, it hit me, it consumed me:
The truths and the reality.

Now I rot, my mind staring, blank;
My visions, shrouded with darkness.
My everything, painted pitch-black,
My humaneness, destroyed.
A tragedy that did, or did not, happen.
james nordlund Jan 2020
Exigency replacing humanity,

Merchants, only for more

Through to mercs for unending

Global unnecessary war.




C'est tres facile pour la machine,

Addictive personality disorder

Replacing humaneness being,

C'est la unvie, no?
Wasn't able to login for the last 3 weeks; sorry people.  Belated Happy HanKwanMas to All, and may this New Year find you All new, everyday, all the way through   :)   reality
Dr Peter Lim  Sep 2021
On Old Age
Dr Peter Lim Sep 2021
I've learnt a few things, have given up on past undesired parts,
I'm more selfish as I've neglected myself somewhat before,
but not at the expense of kindness, I'll deepen my love, grow in appreciation of the beauty of life, of nature and of the arts,
will be calmer and quieter, will listen empathetically, will not be judgmental, will give everyone a chance, will mind my own business but will not be insensitive to the suffering of others,
be content, grateful and humble, will live creatively as that's the essence of meaningful living, will never allow a single day to waste away as every moment is a gift, will look to the future with wonder and optimism, and never forget that it's kindness and humaneness which will make the world a better place.
I see clearly
who I am in the mirror
where I excel and what I lack
I writhed and I cried
and burned
and ran like a wolf alone in the forest
awoke next to a lake
fur still damp
but to the water I turned my gaze
and I could finally recognize who I was

humbled by the moon and its giving light
I stood there shivering and out of my mouth spilled the courage to howl

and the wind accepted my offering and carried it off

This is where I start
I see my humaneness,
my everythingness, my interbeing
and so I your blurry figure comes into focus
and you are just another human

the kind who stand in front mirrors
writhe, cry, burn,are reborn and
run like a wolf
until you howl out too
to the greater in humbleness





I am back to my being
and you can call me by my real name
the one we share

— The End —