Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
PoemFalcon69  Feb 2015
Empathy
PoemFalcon69 Feb 2015
Pain.
Loss.
Gain.
Joy.
Suffering.
Contentedness.
(I Feel You)
Emmaline E Jun 2013
I've felt a lingering, encompassing contentedness
and I only hope she will stay.
I woo her like I would
a friend, I brew her coffees and teas and
we speak of the world in terms of
relativity and we laugh.
There is the most catalystically crucial point:
we laugh and laugh at all that
once seemed something
to be sorry for, or ashamed of, or
beneath our bustling cognizance.
Our jocundity is riddled with shining
jewels of barbaric opulence as I frantically
bare my canines in a persuasive exclamation.
I hope she'll stay,
but to receive and not give would never convince her.
jad Jul 2014
It was midday and the clouds loitered around the edges of the sky as if they were suspicious of the sun. Beams of light ricocheted off of goggles and snow and beads of sweat that were caught in my oldest brother's beard.  The hike up was our way of earning our run. The hard work and constant determination to get what was important to us made the view and the ridge taste so much sweeter. Finally able to rest, I planted a granola bar in my mouth and squinted through a frame of icy eyelashes to see a sight I had seen before, every day for the past week, but still punched the air out of my lungs. The powder was up to my thighs and the snow lovingly seeped its way into my boots just to kiss my toes with painful numbing. I wiggled them to try tickling some sanity and warmth into them. I only hoped that my toenails wouldn't fall off, but they would inevitably be purple. I pulled up my balaclava to dodge the lunges of frostbite's ravenous teeth. Each nip of cold, the company of my brothers, the view, and the raw interaction with the mountain created a moment that reeked of a dream: a seemingly perfect balance between pain and pleasure.
      The hype of the day kept us from settling our thoughts and quickly my siblings were bounding down the mountain on tele-skis, skis, snowboards, and giddiness. My mind was simultaneously crowded and opened by the superfluous love shared between myself and the people I shared this moment with, the people I look up to, the people who raised me.  My four brothers' elated screams echoed off the mountain ranges that boxed-in the valley below. I joined their chorus of "Shred the Gnar!" and yodels, knowingly embracing the carefree and somewhat foolish mindset of Mother Nature's glee. My skis led the way and found fresh tracks. The lines of the songs that blasted into my ears were translated into the lines that I skied. The music shuffled from Wu-Tang Clan to the Tibetan Monks Of Gaden Sharste & Corciolli but the abrupt change of pace did not hinder my contentedness. I have gained a knack for happily going with the flow, knowing that what the universe hands me is often what I need. The peaceful bellowing of the monks allowed me to take a moment to appreciate that my life is this one on top of this mountain not limited by my economic state with this physically fit and capable body and this working mind. While just minutes before, the fearlessness of Wu-Tang's hip-hop allowed me to bring an angst and stoke for life into my current experience, while also finding the gangster within me. The random shuffling of songs only fed my innate addiction to change and let my enthusiasm multiply and blossom.
Although childish in our hearts and in our unpracticed aerials, we were not childish in our perspective. We had a shared mature understanding of the bigger picture. This was a vast understanding of the world that comes with being a small, overrated mammal sliding on some sticks down the biggest thing it could get its hands on. Each of us took our fair share of tumbles and we iced them each with cacophonous laughter that got muffled by mouthfuls of snow. To be atop a mountain, to go almost unnoticed by a mountain really teaches the skill of not taking things too seriously. In one instance, I grabbed some air and landed scattered into a disorganized pile of all my gear. But my commitment to the bettering of my skills, my world, and myself, let me rise from even my greatest wrecks and the most deadly of wreckage, not unscathed but changed and always for the better. With such a brutal fall, I gained the experience necessary for landing it next time...and the next time, I did.
         After reaching the bottom, without hesitancy, we followed our spontaneous urges to pursue more. Every run I took and every moment spent on that mountain came from a drive to experience and learn. It was based off of my ceaseless search for something new...or for the rad or for the gnar or for swagger or for living a life that could inspire. The seed of this search was planted in me by my five older siblings who all held within their bellies a fire of the same breed. And we sewed that common thread together on ridge lines and in powdered fields where nature is in perfect harmony with man and my head is in perfect harmony with my heart...where my intelligence and ambition trust one another and I trust them because they have gotten me this far and I know they are not tired yet.
Life is the treasure and knowledge is the fire to kindle and wisdom the outcome to distill it

Poverty is taking away food from a fellow human being
Poverty is not being grateful that you have slept having eaten a comfortable meal
Poverty is going out there with a poor self image and using the presence of others to mask your inadequacy
Poverty is not knowing how divine you are, your soul content

Poverty as a woman is not being able to say how you feel and what you feel because you are afraid of rejection or disappointment
Poverty is trying to make a guy feel insecure because you yourself are insecure
Poverty is trying to have multiple ****** relations to either draw a man or men towards you or simply for the sake of trying to fuel your self esteem
Poverty is dreaming and letting the birds talk about it as a could have been
Poverty is stabbing a person you love dearly in the back
Poverty is blaming society, culture and circumstances at home for not progressing forward
Poverty is killing because you are stuck in unorderly primitive and unruly state and you do not know tranquility

Poverty is wanting things to remain the same because it protects you from growth and the awe of advancement
Poverty is living in the past and endlessly trying to change the present
Poverty is not knowing what to say because you have forgotten how to compose yourself in the presence of others
Poverty is thinking for short term satisfaction breeding inevitable lack of long term contentedness

Wealth is inviting the future fearlessly
Wealth is loving abundantly
Wealth is joining the heart's dance by yielding to emotions of pure positive vibrations
Wealth is making the heart intelligent so your desires are not  of a marginal durability
Wealth is seeking the truth because it will wash away the lies and test your bravery as it opens up the wounds and the pain of reality
Wealth is knowing that in giving a lot and asking less more than half the time; you remain abundant
  Wealth is imagining what a future 'you' would be like and in pursuit you strive to make your future self proud
Wealth is having an open mind and seeking first to understand than to be understood
Wealth is trying to find better solutions for either parties, a higher way; which healthily benefits either parties

Wealth is having someone who will support you no matter what
Wealth is sticking to divine principles because they will stand no matter what
Wealth is treating another better than you treat yourself and in essence you treat yourself as the greatest being
Wealth is being patient and persevering for good things because you will honour them as you understand what it took to earn them
Wealth is making a promise and keeping it, it boosts the progress of the whole Universe; even the promises we make to ourselves
Wealth is cleaning up after ourselves and engineering our personhood to not rely on insubstantial and baseless objectives and mantras
Wealth is taking a stand for one's own life and not waiting for a hero to pull up the yardstick
Wealth is going to the dam with a  broken rod and teaching yourself how to fish until a master comes and philosophises your decorum, approach, conduct and credo on the whole process of being independent and going out into the world,
Wealth is unlearning all of the miseducation that we have been fed since the day we were born and relearning and rewiring our psyche to be conscious and cosmically aligned with our divine purposes and use the resources around us to make the raw a tangible gem and vice versa.

Say no to poverty.
Live a sincere life of truth and meaning, we only have so much time to pay off our debts until we're rich enough to give back to the world again.
Danielle Shorr  Jul 2014
Whisky
Danielle Shorr Jul 2014
I am not the girl you marry
I am the girl who 10 years from now
Will out of nowhere cross your mind
In the midst of contentedness
And have you wondering
What happened to her
I am not the girl you swear forever to
I am the girl who you'll think of
When you ***** your finger on the diamond ring
You bought for the one you plan on spending your life with
I am not the girl you have to try to forget
I am not memorable
In any particular way
But one day you will think of me
When you're sitting in a bar
And the short blonde girl next to you
Orders a glass
Of whisky.
Danielle Shorr Aug 2013
I'm not happy
Nor am I angry
I am somewhere in between
But I am not content

I miss the happiness I had
Back when we first met
Those first few months
When everything was exciting

A week without you
Felt like an eternity
And we wanted so badly
To just pause time

But now when we're together
Time drags on
And you always leave
Before midnight

And when we argue
There's no rush of adrenaline
No intensity
Just a dull ache

I wish things
Weren't so comfortable
To the point where nothing
Is the same as everything

I used to be your everything
But now i feel as if
I am nothing
And I am not content.
Liz Padalino Sep 2011
in spring when there is nothing but the melting snow and the bare brown twigs and life ready to exhale
there is no flower for the bee to buzz in so he comes after me and I puff up

the summer makes them greedy with blooms to fight over and nests to gaurd and, tending to my own business,
they sting me anyway for being and i puff up

summer days get shorter and blackberries ripen and i gather heavy friuts and the branches bounce back,
and there are the bees consumed in their work and this time i am stung only by thorns

and finally autumn comes and i bite into that first crispy apple and juice runs down my wrist and my hands are sticky and sweet and bees come wildly swarming around me like a halo

and we are happily drunk with the joy of autumn together
Danielle Shorr  Dec 2015
Promise
Danielle Shorr Dec 2015
It's not always going to be perfect
some days will be busier than others
with more work done than attention given

some weeks will be harder than most
time, us both lacking enough of it
wishing there was more to have and spend

now and then
the chaos of priority will challenge us
to choose between the crazy of our schedules
and the enjoyment of each other's company

I'm not sure when this will happen
or how often
but one thing I know for certain
is that each day will always be better if it ends in the same bed
and each morning brighter if it starts with light peeking in to wake us from the same window
spending a night together
is the only way I know how to stop time

the hectic of life will come when we least expect it
the struggles, right smack dab in the center of contentedness
there will be moments where we question our own sanity
wondering what to do with all this passion
when the only real option we have is to embrace it

we're not always going to be perfect
we're not always going to be ideal
there is too much unknown in life to call us a kind of forever
I can not promise that we are
but I can promise a few things

we may not always be successful in our pursuit of each other's happiness
but I can promise you
I will always try to find yours first

I will be your tomorrow
always pushing you to make it there
the call of a new day and a guarantee of something great the next
so that even in the lowest of points you know the future is rooting for you

I will wear a smile even when you're not around
just because I know it's your favorite look on me

I will be as grounded as possible
just so you know there's always a part of this earth that loves you

and when the day comes when we do argue
I can promise I will push the bull in me aside for a little
us, both taurus, could easily fight to the death but I
want nothing more than to be the first to surrender

it's not always going to be perfect
I, will not always be perfect
but you have never wanted me to be anything close to it
only happy

some days we will question how worth it all of the effort we put in is
you'll have my laugh and the curve of my lips to remind you
and I'll have yours
The keys of my keyboard
alight with will, imagination
and this mental life
yet all words pale
in comparison to
the scene lying before my mind.
Rain falls, in the garden and on the street.
I see it shimmer on the tarmac, dripping
from an old tree
I remember when it was a mere sapling.

Sometime otherwise, the scene darkened
and a dusk sky
I fell in love with summers ago
graces us with her subtle indigo
which I see through this window.
I witnessed so much I am thankful
for, every moment remembered has
some significance, rarely is it obvious.
Though this life can be lonely at times
on occasion it is so kind
that I feel in my head
and it feels right.

Once, from a dark desk
in a quiet room
  I felt it
through the window, with it
came the sublimation of all
that I knew. I was contented
then, for a long and wonderfully lonely time.
I savored the moment, sublime, knowing it
fades to leave memory, not answers why;
Contentedness, wandering in mind and
wondering why. Everything has come
together, objects in space, movements
through time; cloud, rain, reflections
in water, tarmac, shimmering, leaves
dripping, time easing, sky clearing, the
opaque steam of a condensate wall fading,
The azure gradually fades into indigo and
again onto navy blue until finally, a black
absence tinted with skyglow, space in all
its darkness, teeming with twinkling stars.

Moments tied to memories, tinged with emotions
evocative of time, reconcile space and my mind
with a sublime environment, separate  from mind.
Its function is to divide subject from object,
Self from world, me from you, I from all
and shade
from hue.
Such are some of things
minds do.
I sit here, at my desk, in wonder
as things I cannot comprehend
pass through,
I can feel them;
Noumenal, innumerable,
Like memories I can't define,
While the afterglow still lingers
I see the world
and it seems
so fine.
Riley Schatz  Aug 2015
Cable Knit
Riley Schatz Aug 2015
I want you to love me in a sweater,
grey,
cable knit,  
a little too big.  
I'll wrap my arms around you,  
like fluffy wings,  
keep you safe for a change.  
(There is something about you that makes me want to.)

We will tangle up in warmth,  
and I'll curl my fingers in your hair and press kisses in each curl.
The contentedness between us will be tangible,
filling the air around us.

I want you to love me in the soft way that I love you,
Warm linen sheet-like,  
A nestling-into-you kind of thing.
We fit together,
you and I.  
Just right.

I want to feel your sleepy breath on my neck,
your lovely eyes fixed on mine.  
Your fingers can trail along my shoulders,
your chest can heave contented sighs.  
The crook of your arm could be my pillow,
the space between us nonexistent.
I wrote this when I realized it was true
True beauty is unique,
It lies skin deep,
   It doesn't need compliments to be built,
Its flawless because it comes from the image of God in which it was created,
   Meaning it has no physical mistakes,
Because God is perfection,
And it only builds through acceptance and contentedness..
Beauty lies skin deep..
I'm just listening to Counting Crows,
and I get this feeling,
That I am so close to understanding,
Something, myself? Something.
And it leads to this eerie feeling of contentedness,
In the darkness.
But I'm just a step behind,
And the more I think, the more...
I lose my way, The more I question,
instead of listen.
But it scares me to let such a moment pass,
without pursuing... it.
Whatever it is.
Poetry? I think not,
Just splutter along the road of my soul.
Sure to be meaningless in the end, but,
Looking at it now, looking back a bit...
Oh to be **** half in the past,
And nirvana just out there,
A bit further along the way.
Almost childly, I blindly,
Reach my hand out and up,
Hoping that I'll be able to grasp the Sun,
As if I won't get burnt,
That since it seems so close,
I just need to grasp,
and the world will be mine.
But some things are not for mortals.
And demons, like kids,
Must too, one day,
Wake up.

— The End —