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SøułSurvivør Feb 2015
~~♥~~

I used to think men
should be more like books
Both you cannot
judge by looks...

If I didn't want to finish reading
I put it down... no heart was bleeding

A book will never fuss or fight
It will stay with you
through the night...

It doesn't smoke. It doesn't drink.
It won't leave toothpaste
in the sink!

It doesn't binge... it don't eat...
It won't leave up the toilet seat!

It don't forget. It doesn't mope.
It won't hog the TV remote!

It doesn't have to have
The last say...
It doesn't have legs

to walk away.

But it's not soft. It isn't warm.
It doesn't keep you
safe from harm.

Even though it makes no fuss
It can't think. It can't discuss.

Even though it has its charms
it can't hold you in its arms.

It doesn't pine. It doesn't miss.
It can't hug and it can't kiss.

So now I think on it again...
... I think BOOKS should be
             more like MEN!!!



SoulSurvivor
2/20/2015
~~♥~~
Monisha  Feb 2020
I AM A GIRL
Monisha Feb 2020
When I was just a little girl,
And as little girls were taught then,
I played with dolls and a teaset,
Made mudcakes for food,
Wore skirts, made my hair into ponytails as I was let.
I saw the boys with the abandon which comes with free wear and play,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.

When I was older, a teen
and as teen girls were taught then,
Walk, talk, rock softly
Don’t draw too much attention
Or attempt to explore too much.
I saw the boys then with the abandon which comes with freedom to play, sit, be as they want  ,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.

When I was sixteen, oh sweet sixteen,
And as sixteen year old girls were taught then,
Don’t wear clothes that show your frame,
That’s indecent and you will be in another home and will incur alot of blame.
Don’t wander, argue, or express an opinion,
You’re a girl, being humble, quiet and gentle becomes you.
I saw the boys then with the abandon which comes with freedom of movement and speech,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.

When I was older, and passionately sought a particular career,
I was admonished as many other girls in my time,
It’s not a career for women, late nights, more men to be around,
When you get married, that’s not going to work and troubles will abound.
I saw the boys then with the abandon which comes with the  freedom of pursuing their dreams,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.

When I was married, and setting a home, working  and raising a family,
I left my work as many other girls in my time,
For my husband to follow his work path,
Unquestioningly, unflinchingly, resolutely.
I saw the men then with the abandon which comes with freedom of being in control of their lives,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.

But this is just the surface of my questioning being a girl,
When boys and men around tried their stunts on girls and women,
I questioned my existence.
When many girls and women I know,
Were told to stay mum on men close who took advantage of them
I questioned my existence.
When In the workspace,
Women got paid less than men because their salary were subtly looked at as secondary salaries,
Or needed to speak louder to be heard,
I questioned my existence.
When the onus of keeping a relationship working  was the woman’s responsibility largely,
I questioned my existence.
When a woman got hit by her spouse,
Its she who may have provoked him.
When a man strayed,
Its she who was not a good enough wife that he had to look elsewhere.
I questioned my existence.

The atrocities many men are capable of,
The filth many men spread,
****, hate, aggression, manipulation and more
Abuse, gaslighting inside closed doors,
Wearing a mask of sophistication outside
Animalistic and entitled beings to the core.

My apologies to men who are not,
And I know some,
But they are but a handful,
Too insignificant in the larger way the world works.

But then I see me,
A harbinger of change,
In my home and around.
Raising my son differently,
Advocating for change purposively,
Actioning resolutely what’s right,
Woman for women with all my might.
I see so many more women now who retain their selves and are beacons of hope,
They don’t sit around and just mope.

And I am glad I am a girl,
And I question no more,
I question no more.
At ***** ****'s and Sloppy Joe's
We drank our liquor straight,
Some went upstairs with Margery,
And some, alas, with Kate;
And two by two like cat and mouse
The homeless played at keeping house.

There Wealthy Meg, the Sailor's Friend,
And Marion, cow-eyed,
Opened their arms to me but I
Refused to step inside;
I was not looking for a cage
In which to mope my old age.

The nightingales are sobbing in
The orchards of our mothers,
And hearts that we broke long ago
Have long been breaking others;
Tears are round, the sea is deep:
Roll them overboard and sleep.
Mary Ab Jul 2014
Our hearts and souls were so blessed to fast Ramadan sincerely
To be enlightened by its super mercy and extreme prosperity
purity abiding around my heart, kindling my every part

a gift from Allah came along to bless our hearts
to spread  peace and love, to dig faith in each part
A blessed bounty to wipe away our tears
to zest our souls and vanish our fears
to sparkle with faith with our keenest beliefs
and twinkle light in our bright smiles
oh dear eid, you can't help it but sowing seeds of joy,
Capturing joy and happiness in every single countenance ,
of a child's enthusiastic joy kindling a thriving inner radiance
joining hearts and souls with the deepest crystals of love
revealing such a fancy artistic touch of a peaceful dove
feeling the gratitude for Allah's super merciful blessings
praying to pluck the roses of peace each single moment

pounding hearts of affliction and yearning
missing your everlasting passion getting sick of poisoning
yearning for their peaceful deliverance
to catch glimpses of happiness
that once has been hunted by a sudden death of a loving part of soul
until Allah will send a cheerful hope,
just be patience to get over all the mope
smile and share the joy of eid and love  ,
work even harder to cherish the heaven above ....
This is the first draft of the poem " imprinted feelings"  written jointly with my dearest poet Amina ♡
Check the final version ^^
Mia Pierce Oct 2014
Falling in love with someone who is bipolar will never be easy.
There will be minutes, hours, days, weeks, or even months where I'm unexplainably mean, or recklessly happy.  
For a period of time, I may be all over you and want to smother you in my aforementioned reckless happiness, that I will forget to ask how you're doing and if you ate anything today. I will forget that unlike me, you need to sleep for 9 hours a day and that you're not fully ready to take on the world.
At some point, I will take a turn for the worst and will mope in unbelievable sorrow due to the death of my false happiness.
I will cry about everything and will stop calling, and forget to remind you that I love you so much and just need some time away.
My deep sadness will soon turn into unrelenting anger and I will tell you abusive things that I don't really mean.
I will be confused as to why I say them, and apologize a million times and try to explain that I can't control my anger, and that I need to leave and be away from people for a while, although I know nothing will really help.
You will insist that it's okay and tell me you love me.
For days, weeks, or months, I will do this, and you will soon think I am lying and think that I am just genuinely terrible.
My constant apologies will become nothing and you will soon distance yourself and start falling out of love, but still have a glimmer of hope.
After this episode, I will have a period where I feel nothing and am almost robot-like. You will feel unwanted and unloved and look at me with such sad eyes and get nothing but a shrug and a half-assed "sorry."
When you finally walk away,  I will have more bad days than good days because I will regret not saying I love you more.
I will hate myself for being bipolar. I will fall back into my bad habits and soon you will be a distant memory.
Ross J Porter Nov 2012
He forgot his soap
What a dope
No one here can cope
He's worse than campfire smoke

He could of brought it on a rope
So he wouldn't have to *****
Instead he'll mope
For friends he's got no hope

They run when they scope
The boy without his soap
Rolling down the *****
Singing baroque
Like the pope

He tried a bath in coke
Oh what a joke
Because the sugars provoke
Mosquitoes to bite and poke.

Still he stinks like BO and oak
Smells like a singer of folk
Whose hair is matted into rope
Cause he won't use soap
What a dope!
josie  Oct 2014
brown eyed boy
josie Oct 2014
it's not fair
that my brown eyed boy
is being treated like a toy
he's barely begun
and the sun
won't rise
if he doesn't shine
although he'll never
be mine
I wish he'd never lose
hope
I'll mope until
he smiles once more
and I'll never shut the door
for my brown eyed boy



-j.m
Neha D Jul 2014
I watch the prom Dance,
In an awkward stance,
my friends walk in with dates,
and the excitement Abates.
Alone in a corner,
I mope like a mourner,
With no partner to dance with,
No gentleman to prance with.
Amidst the mirth and cheers,
My eyes fill up with tears.

I rush out into the open air,
And by Jove! I see Voltaire!
With his satirical charms,
He draws me in his arms.
As I sway to the beats,
I'm waltzing with Keats.
Causing my funny bone to arouse,
Enters P.G.  Wodehouse!
Using nonchalant wittiness,
He acknowledges my prettiness.
And then walks in Shakespeare,
Who  wipes away my tear,
And my senses curdle like curds,
As he showers me with words.
While I repress the excited child,
I'm swaying with Oscar Wilde.
I'm rendered helplessly mute,
With his phrases so astute.
With a proposal so verse-y,
I'm serenaded by Shelly  B. Percy.
And before this fantasy can spoil,
I fox trot with  Conan Doyle.

And thus literally seduced,
into putty I'm reduced.
I am platonic-ally smitten,
By the genius of what they've written.
The dating circus can’t make me cry,
because a host of paramours have I.
I've never been to prom. No one asked me to prom during High School or college. And while that saddened me, I found solace and acceptance in the arms of my Literary heroes.  
Here's to them :)
Mary Ab Jul 2014
Thirty days have passed by,
purity abiding around my heart
Our souls were so blessed
to fast Ramadan deeply sincere
To be enlightened by its vast mercy
and the extreme prosperity

a gift from Allah came along to bless our hearts
to spread peace and love, to dig faith in each part

A blessed bounty to wipe away our tears
to rest our souls and vanish our fears

to sparkle with faith with our ambitious beliefs
and twinkle light in our bright smiles

I can't explain the sadness,
that all of it is already gone

Yet I am unable to express,
all the happiness that came along

Oh dear Eid,
you can't help it but sowing seeds of joy,
All the little children jumping out of ecstasy,
or something more

We gather all of us in a room,
cheering everything we have got
the child's enthusiasm kindling a thriving inner radiance
joining hearts with the profound crystals of love

feeling the gratitude for Allah's merciful blessings
pounding hearts of affliction and yearning
attempting to catch glimpses of happiness
that once has been hunted by a sudden death
of a loving dear soul

I have two sides today,
in my spirit is something wrong
but it's real, and I can't hide it
and let the feeling in my heart just lay

A beaming smile, so doleful eyes
As I said I have got two sides
And still can not decide.

This great festival meant a lot,
now it is just a reminder,
to all the years that have flown
celebrating a day without her.


It is just a replay,
to the digging nostalgia in my core,
until Allah will send a cheerful hope,

just be patience to get over all the mope
work even harder to cherish the heaven above.

Yet you see,
this movie will come again, the next year
and the melancholia, tingled with nostalgia
might keep you deaf and blind
along your long road.

Remember that Allah's door of repenting is always wide open

Waiting for your heart to get back and mind be awaken...
Happy eid for everyone ♡♡
This is my first collaboration with the most adorable poet Mina  ^^ (( http://hellopoetry.com/minasteeleh )) ===> check her poems , they are so awesome ^^
I was so happy working with her ^^ ♡ hope we can write together so often ^^
May Allah bless her and protect her ^^
El7amdulillah for everything, Ramadan changed us to the best ,and El eid is a gift from Allah to spread love and peace ;)
And no matter how life gets tough  , just be patient and strive , fight until you'll find your way and Allah will reward you and make it up for you ;)))
Always pray , may Allah guide us to the straight path ;)
Skyy Blu  Aug 2013
I think
Skyy Blu Aug 2013
I think about you daily on many levels. I smile sometimes when I remember your smile or the crazy sound, you would make when laughing. I remember hanging- out in the summer time, spending the night over your house or mine. Telling jokes, playing games, and laughing so hard we'd cry; even- though it wasn't always funny.. It was funny to you and I. I think about you daily... Sometime I wonder why, a light so bright and beautiful-had to go and die. You where the most giving person that- I ever knew. Always helping others even those who would hurt you. Your-Smile, was like the sun on a cloudy day, so warm and loving.. Just like you in every way. I watched you go from 226 pounds of muscles hard as stones, to 95 pounds of ashy, skin and bones. I saw the pain you tried to hide, behind your brilliant smile... Cloaked, in laughter ever groan with the faith of a new born child. Even, when your light was dwindling, to others you would still give hope.. We are young you would say" No-Need to frown or mope. You never changed, never let it get you down; continued to live, give, and spread love all around.. You! Wonderful-You! I think about you daily and every thought, seems to make me smile; You were my best friend... Crazy, Loving, Brilliant, and Wild. I celebrate you my friend... Your light will always shine, in the lives of so many others and in this heart of mine. Yes! Your light will always shine. I Think About You .
John Niederbuhl Oct 2016
Doctor, Doctor
I've trouble with my eyes

Then take these blue pills,
That's what I advise

Oh Doctor, Doctor
My bones are all sore

White pills I prescribe
They'll hurt you no more

But Doctor, Doctor
My heartbeat is waning

Take red pills for that
You'll soon be regaining

Please Doctor, please
My mind fades away

For that I have gray pills
You'll be sharper today

Its quite shocking Doctor,
My ***** is murky

Take these yellow pills
They'll clear it by Thursday

I mope around Doctor,
My mood's really flat

These rose colored pills
Will take care of that

You must help me Doctor,
In bed I'm a flop

Then try these long capsules
They'll liven things up

Tell me please Doctor,
What's inside these pills?

Why medicine, of course,
To cure all your ills
Michael DeVoe Apr 2015
I am a good man Charlie
You may not have noticed because of how humble I am
I mean surely you've heard me say contrary things when complimented
But that's only because I want people to love me for me first
I'm sick of all these nice guy chasers out there
Who only love me for my decency
I'm looking for something real here you know
I just want it to be like the movies
I mope around til the perfect girl loves me
Then after we're together for a year
Bam!
I surprise her with a lifetime of love from a kindhearted compassionate soul
Is it really too much to ask that she love the worst of me before she ever sees the best of me
A collection of poems by me is available on Amazon
Where She Left Me - Michael DeVoe
http://goo.gl/5x3Tae

— The End —