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samasati  Nov 2012
I believe
samasati Nov 2012
I believe in smiling at strangers. I believe in saying hello. I believe in shyness. I believe in fear of rejection. I believe in the need of affection. I believe in the need of reminders. I believe in candles, especially those that smell of vanilla or christmas. I believe in wearing small crystals around my neck. I believe in energetic vibrations. I believe in colours - I think each person has their own colour. I believe every feeling is valid. I believe in chapstick and I believe in mascara that doesn’t clump. I believe in nail polish - every colour of nail polish. I believe that the only reason we lie is because we fear something. I believe in poetry. I believe in bluntness. I believe in the intention behind words, but I don’t necessarily believe in words. I believe in travel. I believe in travelling solo. In fact, I believe in travelling so much that it is pretty much all I want to do. I believe in music. Boy, do I believe in music. I believe any kind of musical composition can change a person. I believe music can cure depression. I also believe music can feed depression. I believe a melody can say more than lyrics and I believe that lyrics can be what someone couldn’t put together themselves to explain exactly how they are feeling. I believe anyone can create a song, even though they believe they cannot. I believe a single note can sound like the most beautiful sound in the world. I believe if someone records a song when they’re in an ugly mood, the ugliness emits to its listeners and can drain them. I believe in art. Of course I do. I believe in acrylic paint. I believe in oil paint and watercolours, but not as much as I believe in acrylic. I believe in fingerprinting. I even believe in painting with your toes. And I believe in dancing; even if it looks weird. I believe in flailing your arms even, as long as it feels good and right. I believe in dancing ‘til you sweat, though I don’t like that icky feeling too much. I believe that a babe can be a very ugly person and a physically unattractive person can be a very beautiful person. I believe that people who smile are beautiful. I believe that people who frown are beautiful too, just in a different way. I believe that there are sincere smiles and there are manipulative smiles. I believe that some people just know how to use their eyes well. I believe in eye contact. I believe in engaging. I believe in listening and dropping everything else that is going on in your mind just to listen to what a person is trying to share with you. I believe in sharing - sharing cookies and sharing love. I believe in the frosty cold. I believe that it doesn’t have to feel as cold as it really is. I believe that people complain a lot. I believe that people often have too much pride to be happy. I believe that we should embrace our discomforts and shames, that we should welcome them wholeheartedly so that we can be happy. I believe in honesty. I believe in empathy. I believe in tea. I believe in jelly donuts but only on certain occasions. I believe in quirky bow ties. I believe in knit toques and mittens and scarves. I believe in dresses. I believe in flirting. I believe in coffee in the morning. I believe in big comfy beds. I believe in walking around your empty house in your underwear or birthday suit, singing loudly. I believe in singing in the shower. I believe in singing on the street. I believe in stage fright. I believe in meditation, though I don’t really strictly set times to do it anymore. I believe mundane activities can be done in a meditative state of mind. I believe in clarity. I believe in not judging people because everyone is human. I believe every human has something very interesting about them. I believe in boring people too. I believe in christmas music - not the radio kind, the choral kind. I believe in cheap sweet wine. I believe in Billy Joel and I believe in The Beatles. I believe in Regina and Sufjan too. I believe that the ukulele is a very overrated instrument. I believe in having healthy hair. I believe in moisturizer. I believe in getting to pick a coloured toothbrush at the dentist. I believe in thick wool socks. I believe in baggy sweaters. I believe in yoga gear but I do not believe in sweatpants. I believe that yoga is one of the healthiest things for a person - ever. I believe in buying a friend drinks or dinner once in awhile. I believe in collecting shoes and scarves and rings. I believe in chords but I don’t really believe in jeans. I believe in hot chocolate with whip cream but not with marshmallows. I believe in dorky Christmas sweaters. I believe in baking cookies instead of cake. I believe in eating disorders - I do not support them, but I do believe they are much more severe and various than most people think and I believe there should be better/proper help for those who suffer instead of the usual cruel inpatient/outpatient care. I believe in trichotillomania and I believe in dermatillomania and the severity and impact it can have on its sufferers. I believe in gardens. I believe in every single flower. I believe that everyone is always doing their best. I believe that most people love to struggle. I believe in hope. I believe in having faith in yourself. I believe in iPod playlists. I believe in gym memberships in the winter, not the summer unless it’s to swim. I believe in matching underwear every day. I believe in Value Village. I believe in singing in bus shelters when you’re waiting for the bus. I believe in dressing up according to holidays. I believe in Grey’s Anatomy and I believe in Community. I believe in skirts and dresses that twirl like the ‘ol days. I believe in longboards more than skateboards. I believe in plaid like most young people do. I believe in bows in my hair, but not as much as I used to. I believe in foot massages and hand massages. I believe in reflexology and reiki and essential oils and chakras and crystals and holistic nutrition. I believe in anxiety; even crippling anxiety. I believe in awkward romances. I do not believe in flip flops. I do not believe in Beatles covers unless they are really insanely good; then my mind is blown. I believe in having long enough nails to scratch someone’s back appropriately. I also believe in biting nails. I do not believe in telephone calls unless I am extremely comfortable with the person. I believe in blogs. I believe in journals. I believe in naming special inanimate objects like journals, instruments, technology and furniture. I believe in the idea of cats more than I believe in cats. I believe in sharpies or thin pointed permanent markers. I believe in temporary tattoos. I believe in streaming movies online. I believe in royal gala apples. I believe in avocados. I believe in rice cakes. I believe in popcorn. I believe in airports but I hate the LA airport. I believe in openly talking about *** but I don’t believe in making it seem shameful and gross. I believe there should be no shame regarding sexuality. I believe in reading some great books more than once. I believe in laying on the couch under cozy blankets, watching a great suspenseful tv show or movie. I only believe in having a couple bites of cheesecake. I don’t really believe in lulu lemon. I don’t believe many people can pull off the colour yellow. I believe in buttons over zippers even though zippers are easier, they just look kind of dumb and cheap. I believe in the sun and the moon equally. I believe in closets over dressers. I believe in staring out the window for a good hour or so.
Odd Odyssey Poet Nov 2018
Try to buy you roses. Hoping you care.
"Knock, knock", by your Heart. Hope someone's there.

Liberty of freedom between hips.
Taste of Love between lips.

ATM withdrawals to have all my money for you in checks.
But I'd fear of it not being my own withdrawal in the latex.

And not all sweet words sound the same,
Try driving slow in a fast lane.

Hiding often wise behind the camera lens,
Just hate for the love to be for a season, like loving the current trends.

Hold up on the minute just to have a second gone.
So many love tracks on the radio, but not singing the same song.

Really just too scared to wake up all alone.
Birthday wishes all on my own.

Dear, don't you run away from me. Try to follow you behind at a slow pace.
Holding on the best memories for closure just in case.

Just wanna be all that I could be.
Just longing for the clearer pictures I could see.

It's suspenseful but what could I do.
Leonard Green Oct 2017
Beastly is this monster state yet many damsels cannot avoid
Some may call it disturbingly conflicting and become annoyed
Where rationality coexists with irrationality in an unstable realm
Pretty monster states navigate this journey as captains at the helm

Pretty monster states, Pretty monster states
No need to disguise your fury or depressions
Pretty monster states, Pretty monster states
This is just part of your amazing expressions

Wonder is this monster state since the inception of Adam and Eve
Men can only hope to be compassionate, steadfast and never peeved
One moment, pretty monster states can be loving and best friends
Next moment, challenging one’s good nature and spirit to extreme ends

Pretty monster states, Pretty monster states
No need to disguise your fury or depressions
Pretty monster states, Pretty monster states
This is just part of your amazing expressions

Frightful is this monster state like a suspenseful thriller or mystery
Only those who are not faint of heart can sleuth this case history
Where a profound will of character serves to stabilize one’s constitution
Bringing the monster state to an uneventful but amenable restitution

Pretty monster states, Pretty monster states
No need to disguise your fury or depressions
Pretty monster states, Pretty monster states
This is just part of your amazing expressions.
ryn  Sep 2014
Sleight of Hand
ryn Sep 2014
Life is full of mischief and artful trickery
The way through never made easy for the foolhardy

Misleading gestures only employed to solely distract
Left up to you to decipher and hopefully extract

Experiences teach much, had you only been accepting and learning
That a dove could be made to appear; out of thin air, out of nothing

When the road ahead offers no more than mere misdirections
Altered trajectories stemming from convenient misinterpretations

Your cards may have been dealt revealing astonishing outcomes
"Not the hand you get but the game you play," said some

Depending on deft wrists and a flick of the wand
Overnight you'll wake to find that a new day had dawned

Only would happen if into the wind you hadn't spat
Hope would emerge like a hare out of a top hat

The play on light and shadow, nothing short of dramatic
You volunteer onstage, accompanied by apprehension and suspenseful music

Faced with an eager audience; you realise that alone you stand
Be not surprised to learn that love is life's sleight of hand...
wordvango  Oct 2014
posy story
wordvango Oct 2014
Poem of prosy
I am so sorry
to relay this story
of ending glory
knowing
your suspenseful stories
await my attentions.
Your suspenseful showy
purposefulness I feel,
I do!
I read and write and breathe
and cry!
Just as you.
I slay dragons daily,
carry princesses away,
I live in castles
like you!
I walk every word wearily,
or crawl away , but always go forward.
Elise Jackson Sep 2021
i found myself stuttering over your name in conversation

it was almost two months ago

although i keep wondering if it happened for a reason
maybe to prevent the eventual sobbing that night
doesn't mean i don't kick myself for it

i constantly feel the weight of your ghost
maybe it's selfish of me to notice the consistency of you
or to assume it is always you

or is it low of me to think that you wouldn't be there

i've held onto this thought since july

and i'm just angry you're dead
Dorothy A Mar 2015
My cousin told me that I am a good storyteller, but I should write something about me, about real people and a time that I was scared "shitless".  Well, I can only think of one time of a real life shocker that shook up my young world. It's nothing suspenseful. It probably wouldn't win any contests, but it isn't contrived. It's a snippet of the first time that I encountered the raw reality of death.  

What did I know about death at eight years old? Our parakeet, Perky, died. My grandparents dog, Bruno, had to be put to sleep. As a girl, I vaguely recall seeing a dead man in a coffin, and that was at the funeral of my mom's aunt's husband.  This was only an introduction of the temporary world we live in.  

Well, then there was an older couple two doors down from us. They had two grandchildren that used to come and visit them, a sister and brother. When in the neighborhood, they would play with my older brothers.  I cannot even recall their names. I cannot remember what they looked like or what they said.

What  I do remember is the news being on in the living room, and I was eating dinner in the kitchen with my mom and brothers. Suddenly, the faces of that brother and sister were on TV. It was reported that their mentally troubled mother had killed them. I think it was because she was denied custody of them in an ugly divorce.  Doing a little bit of digging in the Michigan death index online, I rediscovered who they were. They were Susan and Richard. They were ten and nine-years-old at the time.  

I surely don't remember plenty of details, as this was in June of 1973. Over forty years ago, it's a much faded memory now.  I only know I did not go to the funeral home. If I did, I am sure I'd be horrified to look upon those children who were robbed of their lives.  Death was no longer just for pets or old people.  It wasn't fair and it didn't discriminate in age. And if it could happen to someone as young as them, it could come knocking on my door.

Perhaps, that was the beginning of my fear of death.
Split May 2018
a bean like no other
bitter and white;
a microscopic dynamite,
peristalsis using all its might

my cave so suspenseful and hollow
ridges lined along its curves
churning to my so-called mental benefit
those gastric juices now released,
microscopic dynamite
simply had one more muscle to defeat

a match at last perceived
microvilli yearning love ,
in, it took the dynamite.
yet confused it became as
micro relations only last a short while.

"Nutrients" absorbed,
betrayal on its way
the bloodstream sent in shock
oh such bloodless atriums
oh such vaulted ventricles.
oh how my blood flow met its end.

Although deceiving it had been
no promises were riven
the dynamite exploded
and at last
no longer was I broken.
Rose Flows Sep 2014
Quiet
in that suspenseful kind of way.
Only two people in sight.
Well, three...
if you count the man sleeping
on the bench.
I'm scared
but hopeful
that may way home will appear soon.
Crickets are
cricketing
quite loudly
in fact.
It's as if there are billions of crickets
flooding the train station
But they are no where to be found
somehow.
Where do all the crickets go?
Where are they hiding?
Are there really as many
as it sounds like there are?
My way home should be here soon...
...cricket cricket...
...cricket cricket...
...cricket cricket...
Ladies and gentlemen,
the next Brooklyn bound
is one stop away.
Another subway based poem...
blink an eye and it will disappear
blink the other and you will cry
a thousand tears of joy
blink them both and watch
fireflies alight the azure sky
in suspenseful darkness the alabaster moon
croons its romantic breath over all those vineyards
angels taste the dryness of the grapes
and laugh at the waste of another year’s wine
move out of the way of human frailty
share your space with our immortal stakes
a slavery more terrible than any mankind has yet to try
the Goddess is our home
sower of seeds for those that fast internally
rise the quickest
and dance the hardest
seek the longest roads
give more than you’ve ever known
swallow whole this ocean filled
with the bones of your daughters
forsaken in trendy delicatessens
our heroes are just myths that drift
like derelicts in psyche’s mythos
i am pathos, eros and shadow
i am daylight’s twin brother
her-eyes-on the horizon
yet she could see through to his soul
her-eyes-on the horizon
if we are destined to find our way back home
Shari Forman Feb 2013
Give me your strength as a tennis player,
Your kindness and compassion too.

For learning from your consistency,
And having your jokes glued to me too.

Striving to become you,
You help me overcome frustration over a point too.

You teach me to try my best,
And use the right grip too.

I’m rolling on the floor,
Laughing to your ironic jokes too.

You’re a great friend,
And my tennis partner too.

Besides your jokes,
I admire the effort you present too.

You’re very honest and sincere,
And fun to be around too.

My jokes will never surpass yours,
As our friendship grows too.

You make me ecstatic,
The laughter and joy increases too.

You lift me up when I’m down,
Teaching me how to become a great tennis player too.

Watching you before my eyes,
Make me not only smile but really adore you.

You’re an inspiration,
And spontaneous too.

You would fight till your goal is reached,
And improve on your unforced errors too.

I’ve known you for eleven years,
As we played together too.

I’ve been timid around you at first,
Not even glancing at you too.

Over each year we’ve talked more,
Now we’re best friends too.

I hope these years will continue,
And we’ll see each other too.

We’ve been through exhilarant and complicated times,
But we’ve been through much excitement too.

I’m grateful to have met someone like you,
You make me feel worth while,
Playing a suspenseful game of tennis too.
Francis Sep 2016
A mystery woman named Mystery,
So suspenseful yet so majestic.
A damsel in distress she was,
Who keeps it all to herself.

Pale as the snow that fell one evening,
An evening where I had met her.
Her luscious red lips,
Her black painted finger tips,
And her wavy dark hair has intrigued me.

Her eyes were so mesmerizing,
But so lovely as they were frightening.
Her smile was rare when she showed it,
But her laugh was much too sinister.
Yet I had an urge to sound it more.

A sudden lust I felt for her,
Once she had been flirtatious.
What her motive was,
I'll never know,
But her love making surely was bodacious.

The rapid lust was frightening to me,
As it became an untreatable addiction.
Once lust had turned to love,
I knew it was a bad contradiction.

Once she felt that feeling for me,
She couldn't help it much longer.
She rose from the bed,
Her hands on her head,
Crying,
Wishing that she had lived stronger.

Amazed at what I had witnessed this instant,
I felt a sudden chill.
Her body glowed like Christmas Eve,
And then I started to feel ill.

I don't quite remember,
what happened post chill,
But skeptical I seem to be.
As I woke up with a slight aching head,
My memory was somewhat fuzzy.
the brevity of a singular breath,
one that is full of peace,
such a rare glimpse but
if you look at his face, at the right time,
you might just see him smile.

then, much like an old spruce cello,
descending in suspense,
that smile  -evaporates-, and the
quick "bliss" is no more.

oh how old and wise is this cello i play,
if only it was genuinely surprised by the
intensity of such
-hair raising horror-
it faces in its composure, daily.

"but it simply ain't",
as Bukowski would drunkenly say,
and his quivering cigarette would rightfully echo
through the halls of this unholy Cathedral.  

"put me the **** down already, Charles", it echoes.

"no,
i refuse
to let go of my
identity...

...why would i let go of all

-i feel-

is left?"

he (i) is either a man,
or on the road to understanding
what this even means really...

...maybe he's halfway there...

regardless, he now understands,
he must accept
"reasons" to smile won't come often,
and one is subject to the tug of war of life,
of society,
of women,
of his children,
of his forgetful mother,
of his vices,
his hair raising horrors,
the torment,
of his absent father.

to continue is to face those suspenseful

-crescendos-

of life, with
"a ******* smile on your face",
as Bukowski would say,

no matter
-what-
he's been through, or
-how-
-deeply-
he
-feels-

...

-melancholicreator
transferred and added on from paper on a very tough night that required lots of crying to get anywhere creatively, reflects my current struggles/state of mind.

enjoy.

— The End —