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M Salinger  Jul 2018
Dear Self
M Salinger Jul 2018
Be kind to yourself,
as you are with others

You have these
grand expectations
of yourself
and at times,
those around you

It's good to have goals
and a hunger for
but you must also be
to keep them realistic

Because, while you are indeed
fierce & strong-willed,
you are also soft
& at times

You are human.

But that doesn't mean
you are without

Your sensitivity is your greatest gift,
but without care,
can also be your greatest

You must learn to master your craft.

This means to be
patient with yourself
as you would with others,
to show compassion
as you would with others,
to show love,
& humility,
to yourself

This in practice,
is to truly understand,
& epitomise,
that self-care
is not

That it is okay to say no,
or to ask for help,
or to be truly

To acknowledge
that fear is
the root cause
of bitterness
& resentment

To embrace the lows,
for making the highs even

To let the good wash
over you
the same as
the bad,
& embrace the micro changes,
as the meta
stays the same

To believe you are worthy,
of a great love,
the same as you believe
worthy of

To embody the idiom
that one can
truly love another,
they learn to love
& thus allowing
the hard-earned
of grounded, stable

To know the difference between
& advice,
& lust,
& partnerships

To have
that you will find your way,
because you will;
because you live your life
with generosity
& authenticity

This is my vision for you,
that you will
make this your reality.
MaryJane Doe May 2014
Burnt everything
        we owned
   to the last bowl
All that remains
Is the echo


And now
All that's left
Is this feeling
  In my chest
So I'm holding
   My breath

So as not to let you go

  It's hard to be high
When we're really
  So low
Some call it bi-polar
I prefer manic-depression
It fits us better with adequate expression
We live our life in swooping loops
We strive at our peak then it droops
And the doleful drudge is destitute
Until all progress stops and stoops
To a halt, face down in mud and roots

And then we rise
Called back to life by a guiding light held deep inside
Sorely self-aware, we work until we burst
Droll desperation, at our best when at our worst
"Wow you got your **** together you lost and soulless ruffian."
Then we hit our peak and it all starts back up again
liz  Oct 2014
The Highs and Lows
liz Oct 2014
There are the highs and lows.

When praise is the light
That glides you down  
The corridors of life.
When you've been smoking
All night
Your in another world.

You walk around unnoticed,
Scraps in the wind.
Peoples words pound the
Deepest walls of your self esteem.



But sometimes, there will come a time when you can't tell them apart.  
Where the difference between high and low in like trying to figure out if you rather freeze to death or burn to death.

No matter which you choose, they're both lethal.
Nat Lipstadt Feb 2015
this is a very important poem to me,
about me, and how Obama slurred my people. and never apologized


there are mornings when I wake up
in my nativity,
in my born/bred,
these struggling to be happy,
United States,
strangely hebrew-speaking,
Jamaican coffee
tallying up
what I am,
who I am,
commanded to be,
on this Earth

the labels that the
outward-looking apply,
the tags,
that you have caused
yourself to be defined,
been staked
to your claim,
in infamy and in fame,
that you have
by action and indeed,

have allow
to be presented
as entries on your
global entry passport,
with visas from the
lows and highs,
places where
your have sinned and saved,
all the acts accumulated,
and those,
in pain,
you have been a witness to

word titles that
tinge and suffuse,
summation of my presentation,
sampler of words
father, poet,
a for-real
community organizer,
and of course,
bien sûr,

the quality of all these life's papers,
which I grade myself,
the harshest marker
of all

once a young man,
safely away in college,
under the fresh-air freedom of the
university's in loco parentis,
in the early years
spent quantifying oneself

nearly fifty years ago,
now he,
revealed and recalled
his college typed-letter,
lately uncovered amidst his,
recently passed mother's papers

"Don't know what kind of
I will be, but be assured,
that I will be a
all my life"

so here I am doing my post-sabbath,
top of the week,
right it down,
qualifying myself,
coffee enraged engaged,
a new Sunday tally

taking all my terms,
what was prior, first,
is no longer

decades decay,
events sway,
simple words change me, stain me

nearing on five decades later,
when this
son of speakers,
son of humanists and 
son of
son of proud
rewrites his list

today I write/substitute,
a new order,
a tag gladly taken,
a marker given,
some what in pride,
some in shame too,
first and foremost,
à la manière d'Lincoln
I am
of, by and for

"a bunch of folks in a deli"

proud member of them
that so identify,
for they are among those
that shall not perish from the Earth

bunch of folks in a deli,
I claim as
mine own,
as they would
have claimed me

no subtly professed,
a diminishment intended,
and now
an honorific taken,
Medal of Honor provoked and embraced,
proudly inscribed,
visible on my forehead,
in the black ink of mourning,
a Presidential Cain Citation,
a tattoo of letters,
not numbers,
now moves up to
head of the list,
I am
now and forever,
a member of that corps
(appreciate that double entendre)
I am
Je suis

*"a bunch of folks in a deli"
Just google that phrase

Obama’s slur
Feelings so powerful
Learning to embrace
The highs and the lows
Together we create
This life that lies before me
One of wonder and love
Am I going to quickly?
Why does love come on so fast?
This heart of mine is beating
Feeling things I cannot explain
But I march on through the darkness
Fear will not remain
No, I push through it now
For, I have become much stronger
I know what my heart is saying
I cannot hide it away
Truths being spoken
Heart melting and blown away
Responses are breath taking
I need to stop and breathe
Breathe in the beauty
Of the words before me on the page.
Madisen Kuhn Sep 2013
I don’t have a problem with saying too little, you don’t have to carve inspiration into a health room desk or vandalize a bathroom stall to get me to tell him how I feel. I have a problem with acting as if it’s four a.m. all day long and forgetting that you don’t need to know about my every mood swing: my Sunday highs and Tuesdays lows and Thursday nothings. I think my biggest fault is bothering you to tell me all the thoughts that have yet to cross your mind (and maybe wishing they had.) I want you to want to know everything I feel at any given moment: what I thought of this evening’s sunset and how long it took me to fall asleep last night and why track two of my favorite album makes me feel like I’m in a dream. I want you to want me to know why you painted your bedroom walls yellow and how often you floss your teeth and which day of the week you feel happiest on. But most of all, I want to know everything you feel, even before you’ve felt it.
Samantha  Nov 2018
Samantha Nov 2018
Noting changes.
Nothing grows.

Empty highs.
Empty lows.

I can't feel the warm,
And I can't feel the cold.

You try to make me happy,
And I try just for you.
But other than our trying,
Nothing else is new.

I worry I'll upset you,
If I can't make a change.
It's not fair of me,
To make you stay the same.
Don't let me drag you down with me.
Neen May 2015
Dance with me
We will move through this fantasy
Our eyes heavy with sleep
The highs and lows are haunting me
My heart was always yours to keep
But we move so ungracefully
Every step a tragedy
My heart cries

You are my Moonlight Sonata
Dánï Dec 2014
Too much of everything is sometimes just that- too much.
When you're at your lowest you get closer to the high yet think you'll never be high again.
And when you're at your highest sometimes the air gets thick and no breath is let in.

The lows are so painful, so dark and so fearing. You see no way out and your open sky develops a ceiling. You're surrounded by smooth walls, no place to help you grip your way up,
and when the top seems too far you start to look at things through a half empty cup.

The cup being smudged with finger print stains doesn't help, you see all your efforts gone to waste and lose faith in yourself. The water at the bottom blows everything out of proportion, and your failures are brought to sight in a new light, your hopes and dreams start to seem foreign. We think the world is cruel and whoever allowed it is, too. Why are things the way they are, why do we deserve such horrible things, why can we be scarred? Why aren't things perfect, I'd be so happy if things were perfect, if I didn't care about anything and no harm was felt. If no one was possessed by something so evil, if mutual respect was a given and acceptance was pressed. If only there was no one to be against or no one against us, no one to feel threatened by or depressed. If all things good were mandatory, obligatory and all things bad were kept in fictional stories. Horrors and terrors was only experienced in movies while bliss and happiness was all that was permitted.
But on the ground you feel close to what's high, so close yet at the same time so far. One feeling helps supply our faith and the other nullifies it. It's a turmoil we need to purify and the thought of the high gives of hope of it being beautified.

There are two sides to everything

Being high is the best and when we are we feel so passed blessed, we feel chosen. we feel we have a message to profess and manifest, it's a feeling that cannot be ever suppressed nor fully expressed. We're at our peak and no thing seams bleak. We might weep but it's out of happiness, and we might feel stressed to get rid of anything we detest, no matter how little.

We find the urge to get rid of all things that have or could bent and dent us. All things that have sent us to the depths we were at once..
When we're high sometimes we feel a superiority, we feel the need to direct whatever happens next. The feel to control is what needs to be assessed and corrected, it needs to be addressed and made ***** before it's possessed and infected with something not able to be mended. We start to get seemingly positive outcomes by using negatives, and that wasn't what was meant.. We get too high and don't notice how wet the ground is, and in our state of mind it's easy to slip and get wrecked. We get too high to remember what it's like down when we were swept off our feet and made to kneel. We get high enough to scoff at the fuss and to dismiss the idea to discuss our situation, our foreseeable yet unfathomable stump. We're too high to think we can be stumped, and when it happens to us we'll feel as if thought it has been dumped on us. We'll cry saying it isn't fair and though things might seem beyond repair we'll say we don't have a care because we still have that residue high, we still have that feeling of superiority and think nothing can go wrong anymore. The high helps yet it is suffocating, it can be put up to debate but the truth is we can't await for history to repeat itself. We can't let people imitate the wrong we need to educate and indicate them to where the facts have proven to be right. No need to obligate- a sound mind will always correlate and initiate collaboration.

We need balance and we need guidance, we need help and we need to learn how to seek it. Sometimes we'll find it in things we can and can't see, regardless, by doing so we might finally find inner and outer peace.
I admit I do not understand
People staring at their hands

A tiny screen controls their eyes
Electronic lows and highs

Folks all wander to and fro
Directed by Pokémon Go

One's free will is all but dead
With Nintendo now deep in your head

It's great to be out in the sun
But, can you really call this fun

The best part though, I think to me
Is the collisions between man and tree
Solitude Man Feb 2018
Highs before beloved biles
Bliss followed by bitter sweetners
A paradox
She loves her beloved
And he loves her too
But she fears that he looks into her eyes to see only what is easy to find

Does he see her?
Does he have the patience to read her?
Inbetween the lines of her cries
Elegantly striding down the ailse of her heart
Yet knocking down her priceless art

Her complex heart and complex mind
Begs him to look deeper in
Shes scared and scarred
Her insides need more love
Because beloved highs and lows make her juxtaposed.

Her fear pushes him away
But the look in her eyes screams stay
Soothe the worry lines away
A task not everyone can bear
In beloved highs and lows.

                                       -Lily Bajo
Forgotten Dreams Jun 2014
Poetry has become my self harm,
I only write at my lows...
Instead of blood I see words,
Instead of a blade I have a keyboard...

I want to write about...
The wind dancing with the sea...
The way you smile and it lights up your innocent face...

I don't want poetry to be my self harm,
Because poetry is beautiful...
An art...
Judge away... I'm trying to not care... No matter how much I do ...

— The End —