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Ellen Joyce Jun 2013
My memory beats in rhythm with my heart.
Spilling out snapshot flashes of life like a flick book's muffled cries.
Controversial plastic shell, elastic strap, stick insect mattel covetted for months
until Santa dropped it down the chimney,
almost as fast as she sprogged and regained her figure
- the original scrummy yummy mummy set to spread low self esteem.

My daddy said anyone can crank out a kid like she did,
as my mother ground her teeth to protest on behalf of her traumatised frame.
Strange, I almost became one of the lost - before I grew cells and self,
another fragile foetus swinging on a noose
from gallows where once a ****** failed to stayed closed.
Little life curled tight self soothing sings al na tivke iredem bim'nucha

My memory beats in rhythm with my heart
as I lie beneath my shroud of sadness filled with down shrinking from the light of day
I want to tell you that I love you,
that my heart brays, beats, bleets, breaks, aches for you.
My soul, spirit, self thrice chorus al na tivke iredem bim'nucha
as waters flow from deep to deep
where danger dances and solace is sought
from beyond the fruitless orchards and willows weeping
branches reaching out for you.

My memory beats in rhythm with my heart
surrounded by madonna, ***** and all betwixt
spheres of life protruding, pronounced, announcing themselves;
in streets where bundles, terrors, cherubs, banting, brat and bairn alike
shriek, scream, squeal, shout, squalk, squabble, sing
in a cacophony that makes my heart weep and ache in longing
to sing to self in solitude al na tivke iredem bim'nucha.

My memory beats in rhythm with my heart
pulsating thoughts, dreams, hopes of you through the whole of me.
Brought to my knees I seek wisdom, guidence, strength to let you go.
The river is waiting for you, you who I hold tight in my caul
trying to trust, seeking strength to hakshev le'ivshat haga'lim
holding the thought of you,
the love of you,
the hope of you
tight in my arms crooning my lullaby of lament
al na tivke iredem bim'nucha
Translations
When I wrote this poem to express the letting go of the babies much loved but never to be I thought of a song actually from the Prince of Egypt, a film I first watched in Hebrew, so I looked it up.
al na tivke iredem bim'nucha
hush now be still love my baby dont cry
hakshev le'ivshat haga'lim
sleep while you're rocked by the stream
David Watt Apr 2011
I want something new,
That isn't love.
Love is old,
Over praised.
Too many sing,
About the joys,
Too many write,
About the pain.
Turn the page,
And feel the clean,
The gleam,
The ease of the unseen.

Feel something strong
That isn't frail,
Over used
In senseless gesture,
Given to the credit
Of a meaningless moment,
That is consumed in
Repeated pattern.
Shut your mouth,
And hear the silence,
The omnipotence,
And wise hearts guidence.
dominick Dec 2012
dark thoughts consume my soul.
filling every little hole.
untill im just cold.
nothing left i wonder.
oh no i say as i scoup up all the peices to the the broken mirror that is my life
as i carefully but them in to place.
i look into the mirror and i see the demons of my past deeply peering into my soul.
again i feel cold not just in my body but in my soul.
what are those dark thoughts you ask.
well let rewind.
back to that one time.
my time.
in 2011.
lying there on the concrete.
and again my sould feels very cold.
i  hit a vain.
oh the pain.more than i could every think.
i cant even blink.
he finds me.
who is he.
he whispers "come with me".
moments later im  surounded by clouds.
i think to my self "where am i".
hey whispers again "dont fret child i will be you guide in you time of need".
please now return me please.
you cant do this to me.
im not ready yet i am not worthy.
of you guidence or protection.
i do not want to go to heaven just yet.
for yet there is something i must do.
mother i must apoligze to you.
for
unfinshed and um havung r=wighters block
RW Dennen  Dec 2014
She-Myth
RW Dennen Dec 2014
What tempest rules the earth
around her girth clasps her axe
Thunderous lightening in twisted gales
forlorns amazon anger with her gods
Her voice screams for victory sought
in rumblings of the earth below
Touch not her heart of many stones
unless you dare to feel her wrath
upon your bones and wrench you
and ****** into the further pit of hell,
where dismal screams are heard
from bitter depths below
And snake like chains grind the cold
stonehenge ground pulled by bleeding ankles to the bone
Seek not merciful guidence from her wrath
or shelter from her axe or kindness from cold
black eyes but quiver from her icy demon touch
Succubus her nature be, she draws the air from you and me and yet a tempest all in one
Be hastened away by her tempest shrill
and collar you for good
Be alert not to roam too far
from your neighborhood
DaRk IcE  Apr 2015
She Wolf
DaRk IcE Apr 2015
She howls at the moon in the midst of the night. Seeking lost souls trapped and screaming in fright. Her cries play melodies of melancholy trials lost, her spirit stolen callously at a grave cost. Roaming the dense fog on hallows eve Watching the dead rise, I'm sure many were known to be wise. As she so gallantly skips past ancient tree's they whipser vintage stories about Victorian times and all its glories. Tree leaves construct reenactments of ****** wars riddled of death and destruction among differences of the people, only wishing to gather and come together at the church steeple. Her howls are searched among the hollow lands above makeshift graves of innocent people seen as second rate, not suprising of their final fate. Beings born with no guidence for a undeniable ratchet societies views, she howls as she hears the news. Her ravaged heart however battered still beats, I am She Wolf.
3purplepebbles Apr 2016
Suppose that I wasn't meant to be here
That I wasn't meant to go the places that I gone
That I wasn't meant to do the things that I've done
that I wasn't meant to be me

Supose that I was destined to be someone else
That my spirit was fated for something else
That who I am and who I should be are two different things

Suppose that when souls were being assigned a purpose and a life
I looked at my future
and wasn't satisfied
And I saw another life
and saw a deeper meaning and purpose

Suppose that within the life I saw many people who would need my help
I saw a woman who was told by the doctors that she couldn't have any children
I saw child who had lost their mother
I saw a woman who had lost a father and sister
I saw a child whow needed a guidence

Suppose that when I saw these things
I knew what I had to do
I had to defy fate
Create a new destiny
Be that child
Be that mother
That sister
That guide
Be me

Suppose that these things are true
And is evident within those sad moments where I feel like I don't belong here
And in those happy moments when I feel that the life I'm living is something precious that I had to steal
Morgan Hillhouse  Sep 2012
After
Morgan Hillhouse Sep 2012
Once upon a time...
Isn't that how the story starts?
The one that everyone wants to happen.

Is it because of the hope of a smooth story?
Or the promise of happily ever after?
What happens if the story goes astray?

Does the world seem to go into chaos, or do you try to find the ending?
What about starting over,
     Instead of going to an unfortold story?
Or is an unfortold story best for this person?

No one ever looks to the past for the answers.
No one ever asks for guidence in their travels.

Why travel head strong to the future without the past...-
     When it's the past itself that's getting you to the future.
Every step, turn, twist, sprint counts.
Everything is put into the equation.
Where you end up is only for you to decide.

No one can know,
     If it will be a happy ending.
It is one's own perception that makes something happy.

How someone takes from experiences
     Turns into the story one tells.
It turns into their happily ever after.
lily staples Dec 2012
your words muddle together like a horribley woven web of broken promises.
but I know the power of words, I am a poet.
Your colloquy is irregular and nonsensical.
your mind can not put together one and two since the cancer knocked him out.
but that does not give you the golden pass to be a trainwreck, with your moods like a train.
stand up for yourself and get your head out of that deep rabbit hole you've stupidly been digging for too long.
help me love life and look foward to my future, instead of stating what is best for me.
strangers walking by have given me more hope in a single conversation than you have.
maybe me wanting to be a hostess is my literal way of flying from the nest, but i'm not afraid to jump.
I'm eager to blindly jump, possibly fall, scrape my hands and keep on going.
I look foward to the day that my flight lands and I will be in a foreign hotel room all by myself.
The true problem I believe is that I am okay with being alone, sometimes all the time.
Never have I found that one person where I would truely be sad to be away from all the long day and night.
There is my true problem.
I do not get close to people in fear that I will become attached and then it will make me crazy when they are not near.
I harden my heart and hurt myself instead of others.
I know how it feels to get slashed down by the saber of rejection or desertion, so why would I ever force that upon another?
I am alone in this world and I am content.
Not happy about it nor am I sad, simply content with what is always going to be.
Do not get me wrong, I do feel emotions, I am not a robot.
I have times varying from complete happiness to absolute blubbering depression.
But other than that I am in a neutral zone of numbness.
both mind and body, completely numb.
My body goes into a sort of hibernation of its own.
where my mind is speeding up but the functions of my body start to slow and fade away.
My life is stuck and often constipated, like I'm am at then end of my road.
I stay in this same motion because I am comfortable and too afraid to leave that isolation blanket that has kept me warm for so long.
There are blips in my life where I feel I found someone worth anything.
Our eyes will meet at a social gethering, we get to talking and then when he leaves, the look he gives is like no other.
His eyebrows furrow, wrinkles lay besides his eyes, his smile makes me feel wanted for once in a long time.
what's bad is that i'm already obligated to another, so why do I want to spend time with this new brown haired boy?
I guess he gives me something my own does not give to me now.
what he gives me is hope. A new light of guidence that carries me on through the current prison in which I am entrapped.
Where I am right now, I still don't know.
I curl up like a baby on my cold bed and sob, wondering what I am doing with my life.
I listen to the music of sugar plum fairies and tin men dancing to calm me down.
I realize that what I want most of all is a dream.
Dreams get you through the rough patches in life.
But that is when it hits me, what I don't have is a dream. I've never been blessed with that gift.
I am okay with that now. Because now I don't have to spend so much time on my dreams.
I get the chance to watch others live their dreams, and that makes me happier than anything.
To watch anothers face light up because of pure bliss, that is my happiness.
I've learned to live through others, and I am content.
I'll be okay.
julian Mar 2010
I used to run-Never for fun--I would more often be running away from something than to it. I think it started in childhood. Never staying in one place long enough to have to fight every kid in the school.-I liked and i hated it. More often i had no control over it. On reflection it was for the better, my nose bleed too much for a kid my age. -In the second phase of my running career I began running out. Never telling the bosses to go play in heavy tracffic or do your **** self. I had morales and above all practised good manners. Instead i would tell the bosses that i was taking out the trash and make my freedom dash. -Oh, beleive me I flet free. The funny part was when the bosses would call my parents. Just as countless pricipals would do when i skipped classes. My parents would luagh and call them an ***. -Then i began running away. I only did it once...well that's a lie. I ran away from my highschool guidence office, far too drunk to face my parents scorn. "Yeah i drank it all. i replaced it with water, much healthier." -The last time I ran away I thought I was going to find myself. I had lost a part of myself to drugs and alcohol. I thought for sure i would find myself on the other side of the country on a small island on the Pacific Ocean. I went to rehab and could not find the person i went looking for. I thought briefly i had found myself, but when I looked in the mirror i could not even recognize my own face. I blamed my mustache. -I realized that running away to find myself i ran away from my family and my friends. Alas the old dies so the new can be born. -In my opinion if one is to run away it's for good. Never to return to such and such a place again, unless of course you have to do your taxes.
Fenix Flight Jul 2014
I call upon the great spirit
I call upon the Great Isis
Goddess of life I pray to you.

Give me the strength
to live this life,
this world of
dull grey despair.

Isis, great goddess
I am your humble follower,
I'm down on my knees
begging for your guidence.

I put this borken life
in your loving arms.

Please help me heal
Please help me stay strong.

Please goddess
I pray to you
Isis Is the Goddess of Life. She is the goddess I Pray too, like many pray to God.
Please respect my religion as I respect yours :-D There is no room for judgment,

— The End —