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Becka Estrada Oct 2012
So To See That You Are That One That Has Me In The Lies Of Your Perfection
I Am Falling Each Day More For You,
And It Hurts More As We Grow Stronger
You Keep Reapeating You Wont Hurt Me
Wont **** And Wont Lie To Me
But So You Are Lying To Me When You Say You Wont
I Know So Much Of You Not To Believe Anything
So Yes I Am The One Blind And Deaf
But The Heart Has Me That Way
Because As You Lie Those Words Keep Reapting The Sweetness
Of Your Soul. You Drive Me Crazy And I Am Enchanted.
Dont Lie My Untruthful Liar Because I Need You With Me.
I Love You And I Will Give Anyting For You,
Your Touches Are The Best And Your Lips Are The Softest Of All.
Yes, I Am Inlove With You And I Know I Am Getting Hurt...Tonight.
Ciara Jones Jul 2018
Did you know what I felt
When you spoke an untruthful truth
Did you see my happiness melt
When you thought you were trying to prove

Can you look out at the mountains
And see where the ridges formed
Can you look at the many fountains
And see their designed forms

What do you define as perfect
And what do you believe is worth it
Is it the reefs in the ocean
Or is it the truth you consider worthless
mannley collins Aug 2014
and looked into the mirror that the Isness of the Universe held before me.
Seeing nothing but the Isness of the Universes indifference
and glee at the ongoing 26 armed conflicts
it has initiated worldwide.
Seeing it possessing all the vanity and all the narcissism
worthy of a "god" or "goddess"or any "religious" leader. .
I am, as are all others,the individual Isness,
which is a small but equal,
individual autonomous and independent part,
of  the essence of the Isness of the Universe.
I am incarnated in this,the latest in a long lineage of bodies
dating back beyond numbers or clocks.
I am incarnated here to realise my true nature as an individual Isness.
Seeing naught but the Isness of the Universes perversity and destructiveness
manifest all around me,
in the various civilisations that have come and gone
and still remain ever warring and corrupt.
It is a hard thing to acknowledge that one is a part of the Isness of the Universe
when you are a separated part of it,
but truthfulness wins over "truth" any day for me.

Truthfulness is the only way to preserve my most precious possession which is my individual integrity.
I looked and saw corruption and shed just the one tear and  
shook my head slowly and sadly.
And I stood up and walked away ******* myself with hollow laughter
at how impotent and nackered the Isness of the Universe has become,
since it created the universe out of its own beingness.
All of us individual,one to each body,each a part of its very beingness.
I,this particular individual Isness, was there at the beginning,as were all others,
living the pure truthfulness of existence--as all individual Isness were.
In Union with the Isness of the Universe--not separated by bodies
Minds and GroupMinds and Conditioned Identities
and Group Conditioned Identities.
The Isness of the Universe acted biggy bangy turning its self into the Universe.
Then came the transition from less than nothingness
into existential beingness in a succession of bodies.
I separated from the Isness of the Universe and took the first of many bodies,
foolishly believing the things we had agreed on before selbst manifestatie would come to pass.
Naively believing that the Isness of the Universe's word would be honoured.
Fool that I was.
How untrustworthy and sly the Isness of the Universe has become,
hiding behind "religions" and the masks of many "gods" and "goddesses".
Using its many surrogate and shallow identities,
to manipulate and mislead my gullible fellow individual Isnesses
into the slaughter of War on an industrial scale.
Lauding the death of decency and honour and integrity
and non-violence and equality and unconditional love.
How vain and shallow the Isness of the Universe has become,vainly
demanding worship and praise and the blood of innocents
as if this petty narcissism is the raspberry sauce
on its cosmic Ice cream cone,to be licked avidly,
gore running down its chin.
How untruthful and evasive the Isness of the Universe has become,
a role model for death and war and criminality
and sexism and lies and untrustworthiness.
Who will help me talk sense into our progenitor
before it destroys life altogether?.
Is there any one out there who can stand with us
and talk back to our erring and errant beingness?.
Where are the real women and men,not the "seekers" with their endless narcissism and gullibility?.
Hiding behind stolen verses and concepts
taken from a million pornographic philosopies.
And please no prancing posturing chattering "poets" with
their fancy stanzas about love and destiny and
eternal bliss.
Oh and their "sincerity".
You against the world!.
more like you against those who would stop
you ******* the very life energy out of humanity.
Oh Cowards.
Are there no other Men and Women of Integrity alive?

www.thefournobletruthsrevised.co.uk
Becca  Feb 2014
untruthful
Becca Feb 2014
you
will
get
better
when
you
stop
convincing
yourself
of
what
isn't
real
© Becca 2014
Momus  Dec 2014
Pronouns
Momus Dec 2014
I dream about writing you a love poem
One that is not misted over.
One that is not about him
But you, my beloved,
Because you are the only thing that I have ever wanted and I am tired of being so shy.

But this is hard.
This is even harder than  I thought it would be.
I am staring at the her at the end of my first sentence and trying to figure out how it will sound when it finally breaks free from lips.
I imagine it will coat my ******* strange new liberation and we will both rejoice.

 I refuse to write of you equivocally
And blend you into a neutral they
Or let yet another poem fall to chagrin.
I will not let shame cast shadows on our glorious love
No declararion of the truth could ever be an aberration.

So I write this love poem to you.
I do not scribble you deep into the binding or dust you lightly across my untruthful words.
I want to stain these pages with the red ink with our love.
You are not my secret to keep anymore.
You are the color I want to paint the sky.
g  Nov 2013
The Seasons
g Nov 2013
Your words cut me like the harsh frost of winter. It's been a while since you've been gone but it's been winter year round, and I've been hoping for spring to melt away the bitterness in my head. There is ice on all of the paths and I keep slipping into a darkness that comes much earlier than it used to. I pray for spring to come, but all I've known is winter and what if it is harsher than these past few months? What if the warmth it promises is covered in morning dew and its smell is wrapped in our sheets?

Or what if the chains formed by the ice of quietly whispered lies keep me trapped against the post of un-forgetfulness? I'm beginning to believe the warmth that the sun brings has been trapped behind that same post you've locked me to, except the post is your bed, and it is the words that you let seep from your lips into my ears.

I have been longing for words delicate enough to live inside my heart but also longing for words of bravery strong enough to dance with my demons until I see the seasons change within me. I've been longing for spring. Desires glimmer in my eyes, grasping for the hope of change. I've been clinging to hope more fragile than lilac's petals when they first begin to bloom.

Spring was warm this year, but the nights were still cold and it froze me to the core. I hid under piles of blankets to keep my demons warm, but the fabric smelt like us and it only fueled the bitterness in my eyes. I could not even admire the flowers, never mind touch them. I imagined myself destroying them in my palm, much like you had done to me with every ungentle touch and every forced word through gritted teeth.

The summer promised warmth, but you promised love and I have yet to feel either. I was still frozen, I was still stuck in winter even if the sun kissed my skin. The ocean looked like your eyes and I will never forget your stare as long as the ocean remains a deep blue. The tide reminded me of every embrace you'd push away from, but I'd always come back for more because you remained there like the sand that matched the color of your hair. You were essentially always my ocean, but your ocean drowned me and I'm still recovering from every gasping breath and every un-spoken cry for an escape.

The salty ocean kissed my skin before the tide pulled it away again. Ill never forget the way the sun reflecting on my drenched skin reminds me of your shoulder the time I cried on it and left tear stains on your shirt as proof that you were once mine. This seems to be my only proof that the words "I love you" once escaped from your lips because I never hear them anymore and the small flower buds I saw when the seasons changed have begun to wilt the same way your feelings for me did, when I could no longer handle being used.

Fall came closer and I could hear it in your words and see it in your eyes when your gaze became more lifeless than your touch. I watched us both fall through the branches of empty promises we formed along side our webs of fading emotions which never seemed to soften our landing as we planned. The sky darkened the same time our chances at being okay again did, and I think I could see love's flame burning out inside of my own body, except I'm not so sure that the flame I was feeling was every actually ever love or just a rush of feelings and helpless falling into the pits of our disillusions.

The leaves were full of color and full of life, but there was little life in your words, and they fell into piles of lies. I wanted to jump in them, but I could hear the crunch of time when I was forced to choose if I would let you continue to touch me with an untruthful hand, or if I would leave as fast as the summer had.

I'm not so sure which month I would prefer to die in. To be honest, I died in all of them. Winter came back and the familiar fear of icy roads and bitter words were all I had left. I don't think I would last more than three months in winter, but spring left little hope. I was as fragile as every petal, on every flower, on every bush. I was broken by your words but to die in spring was to die by your hand and that is a fate I could never obtain in a peaceful manner.

The heat from summer approached and I swear I could feel your touch in every beam of sunlight that hit my skin. The warm rays hit my neck like the kisses you planted there and trailed down my spine like seeds that were meant to grow flowers inside of me. Or at least that's what I thought. Every cold fall day raised goose bumps of fear on my skin with the uncertain thoughts multiplying in my head. The seasons still change every year much like you did every time I thought I understood you.  I hoped one day the seasons would find a balance and allow my heart to beat at ease again; but that has yet to happen and I still live every day in fear that you'll bring another winter storm to me again.
RyanMJenkins  Jan 2014
Chameleon
RyanMJenkins Jan 2014
I find it interesting,
The way we mold ourselves to the given situation

Different faces means new spaces
to fill liquid in, intoxicate, and ultimately change them.

So we need our weapons clasped in our grip
catch a bad intention, make sure they're the ones who slip...

No!  We've been doing this all wrong.
Keeping the walls up inhibits growth to be strong
Even if it takes, "far, too long."
Inevitably we exclaim pitches that reside in the same song.

The color-changing, tree-walkers are said to blend into their environment.

This is actually not true.
They change based on light intensity, temperature, and mood.

The personality-changing, free-walkers change based,
On the type of reaction they want to get out of you.

After all you could be the ***** to hold together the whole scheme
Caught in a feverish nightmare, when it seemed to be a sweet dream

Solitary work is needed, *now
, to avoid a potential sting
And so I take the time to rhyme this,
Evaluating the nature of everything.

The mouth can be, but the eyes are not untruthful
They precipitate pictures, from the scary to the downright beautiful
Look deep within yourself, and see your own array of colors.
We may be blind to the importance of some priorities, but I feel we're all lovers.

"Hurt people hurt people," In my life it's a fact.
But remember you can only be responsible for how you act.

No offense or defensive tactics,
Throw the whole playbook out.
Conducting this vessel requires much practice,
Reflect needs of warmth for the seeds to sprout

Make sure you don't love someone, just for what they can give to you.

Highlight their radiance, for making you feel the way you do

The cycle, is only as vicious as one portrays it
The choice is ours, and I choose to change it.

Right here,
right now
Breathe in,
Feel the oxygen go down
Hold it,
For a moment
Every exhale reminds us,
That life's color is golden.
So fold up the clothes,
And walk out the door.
So many illuminated pigmentations to see,
~Everybody's a new world to explore~
Jellyfish Oct 2014
Acidic fury is exactly what I'm feeling, towards you.
The tactics that you've caused me to go through are so painful
I do not understand why you would be so untruthful.
It's almost as if I am floating upon this drift that is full of words you had said in the sweetest of voices.
"I love you."
"You're my stars, my suns, my galaxies."
I keep repeating these sentences thoroughly through-out my mind, every single night.
Remembering the tone, the beat, the eye contact you had made.
Trying to take in the truth, that it was always fake.
Your undying ability to lie straight to my face, was so horrid.
I am feeling betrayed as this 'Caraphernelia' settles in.
I am unaware of the day when my memory of you will fade away.
I hope it's soon.

Your voice is still ringing in my ears as I am dizzily spinning around in my mind,
Trying and trying to just get by this heart breaking of stages.
If only it were easier to forget your name.
Your name.
I will not repeat.
I do not want to say it, I will not cry screaming for you again.
I cannot.
There it is.
The words that you had said to me.
"I love you."
"You are my stars, my suns, my galaxies."
Now I'm crying.
I keep repeating these sentences thoroughly through-out my mind, every single night.
Remembering the tone, the beat, the eye contact you had made.
Trying to take in the truth, that it was fake.
This poem of mine specifically means a lot to me.
R Arora  Dec 2015
The World Today
R Arora Dec 2015
This world, that we live in,
Is not at all less.
It is full of lies
And a lot of mess.
The innocent being abducted,
The honest being convicted,
There’s no ray of hope,
In this world,
Of untruthful, slimy *****.

It is so not possible,
To climb back up,
Because the world,
Is constantly trying,
To pull you back down,
In this ditch,
So that alone they do not drown.
This is what
You have to watch out for.



Everybody is selfish;
Nobody is yours,
Except your family.
Who is always there;
Even in wars.

People are bad,
And will always be,
You have to survive,
With dear ones to your support,
You have to thrive.
Go on, who stops you?
But watch out for these traitors:
That will always be near you.
Looking for a potential prey,
Every single day.
They will treat you nicely at first,
On cloud nine,
They will make you fly,
But what comes later,
Is something impalpable.
Falling through a canopy,
Into a trench that is
Unfathomable.


Come on! You have to get up:
Be strong,
You have to catch up!
This not the end,
But the beginning,
Of your story.
A story,
That will one day be exemplary,
For all,
In this howsoever bad world.

Success will follow you,
If you follow struggle;
This struggle will become obsession;
Obsession, your passion.
And passion is unstoppable.

That very day,
When you know your goal very evidently,
And the journey is your pal,
Nobody can stop you,
From being on top of the world.
And this time,
Nobody’s going to push you
Because on top,
You will be
All alone.
Larry Potter Jan 2014
Quack Doctor
Fake Supervisor
Bogus Professor
Deceitful Color
Common Denominator.

Bomb Inventor
Rifle Creator
Device Innovator
Reigning Terror
Common Denominator.

Untruthful Suitor
Promiscuous Actor
Love Collector
Artificial Amour
Common Denominator.

Abusive Creditor
Illegal Investor
Unlawful Director
Greed Factor
Common Denominator.

Rogue Investigator
Friendly Assassinator
Double Conspirator
Backstab Traitor
Common Denominator.
Zombie or Monster?

Zombie's thrive for flesh
Monster's thrive to ****
Zombie's are created
Monster's are born.

The night is the time for the hunt
Day is for the epic hunter
Hunting in the public is tricky
Mobs are easily spotted
Single target's is twisted in shadows

Zombie or Monster is my question
I fall under monster
I might appear to be sane
But in reality i'm just purple.

My soul gathers the blood that spills
My heart gathers the chills
My mind filled with thrills.

The body is like a bomb
Once pushed to the limit it explodes
This is not a lethal explosion
Just the force of Truth.

Those who don't get this are UNTRUTHFUL.
A monster might ****
But the **** might just be about spoken words not humans
Zombies are the instigators watching and not reacting
They do without knowing the consequences they expose to others.

I might be a monster
But all I do is **** the silence and shred them with truth
Truth which should be spoken but is dormant within one's self.

Zombie's show no emotion
While Monsters are the Motivators towards a solution.

— The End —