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Alyssa Nichole Apr 2017
Sisters and Brothers                 
Irritating each other                                     Bond thats unbreakable                               Love that last forever                                     Incredibly annoying at times                        Greatly appreciated                                        Surviving everything together             ~Alyssa Nichole
Joyful streaks of light shine from a distant path
Hailing from a world where nothing seem to last
Eager hands for the heart of who we want to reach the most
Absolute power was never a thing to boast

Not a bolt of lightning is enough to pour this hour
If such life is less than what  you expect for a little fire
Calming the beast is not the best of answers
Heave your thoughts and watch rocks from meteors falling in shower
Open your mind and free it from infinite hate
Learn to live a life and start to have fate
Even in sorrow, you can lighten up the weight

All the things that you may think about
Nicely presented in your head, is what to not to doubt
Not a point in reality is there to be sad about

Vicious things may come along the way
Imagine only, that there will be another day
Laugh at every moment while you can
Life is not long enough to live my friend
All is temporary and all is just
Not even your beauty would seem to last
Uncover your truths from all of your known lies
Even if the truth has lies to hide
Vested upon you is your soulful right
All you have to do is to play the game that we call life
For the best the thing that ever happened to me. Jhea Nichole Anne Villanueva. I love you baby.
Jack Turner Nov 2010
patient and quiet
i hear the wind
                                                         and so it begins again
                                                         about you
i think to myself
how proud
                                                         that you are out on your own
                                                         living in this strange place called world
somewhere out there
high above is a shooting star
                                                         standing strong and alone
                                                         not a big girl, but a young, beautiful woman
i am transitioning
into greatness
                                                         that no one ever thought you'd be
                                                         with one exception - me.
Xyns  Mar 2014
Nichole Gryphon
Xyns Mar 2014
It's like I'm climbing a mountain
With no safety gear
At first, it was easy
Perfectly placed footholds
Easy access
But things have changed
They are crumbling and slippery
And the ones below me have crumbled away
All above get more and more spaced out
They get smaller and smaller
But I just can't turn away
Emily Rene Dec 2014
Extraordinary is what I'd call her,
Lets no one stand in her way
I'd call her stronger than she looks,
Zig zags in & out of being misunderstood
A military man has stole her heart
Betting for a marriage proposal one day,
Even children, a big house, & a dog or two
The end is no where near for their young love
He's the one, she knows this, even I do

No words will ever bring her down,
I'll be there for her until our dying day
College will not separate our friendship, &
He'll meet me one day at the alter
Oh, I'll be the one holding her bouquet,
Letting the priest say his piece,
Explaining, "You may kiss the bride"

Breaking their kiss will be the sound of the *****,
Roaring to life as they exit the church
One is what they'll be together, holding hands,
With their family & friends standing & smiling
No one will be sad, he's the one, she knows it, even I do
I'll admire their love story because I'll remember
Never hearing her say a word that didn't involve him
Going in their ride with a ribbon & generic letters reading,

"Happily Married"
Elizabeth & Ben, you inspired me to write a love poem. <3
Softly spoken Oct 2009
Tears ran down my eyes for those i love
Even the one's i despise but they don't know

Yesterday i cried for my mother;
S he did me wrong but i still love her

Yesterday i cried for my dad;
I think the day his brother died is when he went mad

Yesterday i cried for my little sister;
She is lost in the world and there is no one to fix it

Yesterday i cried for my oldest sister Nichole;
It's a shame she might raise her sons on her own

Yesterday i even cried for you;
The things you go through people have no clue

Yesterday i cried, Yes i cried for me;
For what i deserved and those i really did need

Yesterday i cried, But i live for today;
So my tears for yesterday are my old way

I might think about it but i will not cry
See I'm one out of so many that have survived
A affect on me my past did have
But today I'm learning how to deal with that

Today, I will sleep better tonight when i lye
And that is because Yesterday I Cried
The time will come of purest heart breaking in two, But alas will come your impending doom, The chimes of screams will be heard. Upon a bed of lieing earth. Forever forsaken will you ever be with chains of this wretched destiny. Call upon the skies on high. Pray to see another rise. For where thy lack a brain or two, Gods and Devils still come with you.

Written By: Taylor Nichole Hewitt
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2016
i gather, all philosophy is written on the anti-cross, or a sickbed... and all maxims on the deathbed - in between there's nothing but vain distractions that have no basis for a consensus of surprise - they are merely therapies of manual labours, shadow-caste by weakness to invoke a sense of belonging to this world akin to a labourer of pure action - reduced to the same pure action: as one might showcase faking one's own death.

Kant said of poets: bothersome flies -
here to steal the cupcakes of my pondering:
zwischen die volkern erzielt wird
a mondus vivendi - in vivo or in vitro?
alter: mondus quasi vivendi -
and all that talk about sabotage (canto xix)?
his own poetry - even the sarcasm, but
especially the sarcasm shines through pristine
as if Hannibal Lecter talking about Alabama:
i gawt dem tousand doughlars tough mak 'em...
        awl over the plaice -
            got to give Ezra the cheek for demonic
slapping to shove that one, up their pristine
temple of ahoy ****! still, the variation is there:
usury and simony - talk of,
       Thomas the Cartesian -
Peter Simon the Usurer - the rock that gave
way to 1000% a.e.r. of maggot - interests rates
and what they said about her:
         piece of meat for the film, *****,
second rate: ***** slapped to Disney - and aren't
women natural sadists? i guess the Cesarean section
was a move in the wrong direction:
*****, pain! *****, pain!                well...
          if i was ever to be bothered, i'd be bothered now:
they're saying you need your genitals stretched
like Armstrong winning the 8th tour de france -
but f.g.m. is bad, bad bad bad -
hey, i was the one who said: get an abortion,
i didn't love you in the same way i ****** you...
you'd think she wouldn't think she was a murderer
akin with me, until the **** ***** turned into
a yanking diaper wearing blob -
                  i love how precursor physics akin to
post-physics (metaphysics) is entombed with pepper
ante: so sneeze into the benzene ring and get
either para- or ortho- physics out -
but she was russian orthodox, which is worse
than roman catholic: no feeling of guilt -
just the relativity factor: forget female rights:
let's just **** the ****** for giving her freedom -
yeah... and i just graduated and couldn't find
a job in chemistry, was working as a roofer:
she has two apartments in St. Petersburg and a mansion
in Siberia... and she sums it up as: i have no money.
blah ha ha ha ha; and i have an aunt in Warsaw
who sends me monthly stipends to drink myself to
death while i write the alternative to Proust.
  he really gave it to them in Ohio: i really gave it
back to London, imagine being published in the town
of your birth, simply because the western notion
of a book: is actually a brick, or a rubber door-stop -
unless you're famous? forget it... seriously,
they really have destroyed poetry with the idea that
autobiographies will **** poetry off...
question is: if you lived an interesting life...
why would you write a book? why would you?
i'm sure you'd continue making life interesting,
Don Juan wrote a book, Faust was like: bartender!
next round! and what's with these ghost writers?
that's like taking the concept of narration
and inventing a fourth dimension -
            our literary tastes and ambitions... are actually
ruled by dyslexics - people who not only can't
write... but who primarily can't punctuate...
now... if this is a healthy society (that we live in)...
then i guess Iraq is an improvement after toppling
Saddam... bra-*******-vo.
                         if i were the west i'd shut up
for one generation, and stop this political fetish of
foreign policy - but, as you guessed it... it won't work...
           just today, a program: 15 years after -
truth, lies, and conspiracies - well... if Guy Fawkes
did blow up parliament, we wouldn't be having
bonfire night celebrations, we'd be having debates...
but since Guy Fawkes plot was a failure:
ola anonymous! ola whoever...
                  and that massive tower in Dubai?
it was an architectural coup - let's freshen things up,
let's keep the competitive streak coming -
who's ******* overshadows all other erections
(egoism)? point is... i don't even care,
         there's no point playing hide (deny) & seek
(doubt) with these people... there's no point!
         i'm not seeking the ultimate noun -
    or how you perpetrate grammatical cleansing:
you basically strip words of meaning,
   and drop them, face-down, into their respective
grammatical category, and the job's done:
no grander meaning, no ulterior purpose,
    no alternative suggestion;
        or rereading Nietzsche - you either recite
something by the author, or you cite the authority
behind your own investigation - the former is
sycophantic stagnation, the latter a narrative continuance:
                furthermore? continual nuance.
    that's how rhyme will remain until i find
the original intention of poetry's need for rhyme to
   be anything but what it currently is: unappealing -
it's like poets want to write something that can be
classified as poetry... which obviously leads to
  the controversy of: but it's so ****** unappealing!
  hence the revision of rhyming to and from couplets -
   i only came across an interest in philosophy aged 21...
  any sooner and i'd fall for reciting dogmas and
upholding the arguments of others...
                   but i only came across this subject through
a collision with strife: or the lost care to strive
   in order to suspect a need for social ascension into
  the heights of respectable society of: horse racing
at Ascot, champagne and caviar: and airs: oh may i,
   oh you do indeed, sir.
                            and in each and every one of us:
   the brute: the comedian.
       what Nietzsche did to emphasise with italics,
  i'm doing it with the colon - for it is said that the colon
economises emphasis without Niccolò de' Niccoli
                           (ò) - i.e. Nichole - née coal -
in French: cut short; which means? have you ever seen
a new form of literary monopoly emerge
that wasn't ecclesiastical? i have... the diacritical markings
on standard Latin letters - they're not taught:
merely accepted -                   suspension of illiteracy
             hibernating in ages of education:
on purpose dangling - the stick a metre from your
head, the carrot a Don Quixote fata morgana -
  truly: a mirage.                SKY: believe in better.
all those guys in advertisement know their philosophy -
once i met a guy who once worked in advertisement
and was shocked when i summed up Sartre as:
                                                                         voyeurism.
  but there's a new monopoly on literacy in town,
it's obviously more refined than the old way of
telling secrets -
                            it's refined in the sense that i too would
have doubted whether that's haiku in ensō or enso'h -
dried up laughter, or the desert of once heard
laughter: lo'h 'n' behold a stammer for an earthquake -
so soon? yep, that much sooner.
                           looking at it, it's all Copernican
east north south west with some encoding, or all of them:
   up there, on the international space station
you get a hard-on thinking about nautical mathematics.
   i get him though, Nietzsche the Preacher -
              although i limited my experiences in order
to never agree with his observations that precipitated from
his experiences - none of them could have come
from *a priori
musings - what with his menage trois -
   again: ménagé (à) trois - or faux pas, i.e. fau(x) pa(s) -
                   as Xerxes said: war!     (alias Łar -
     warsaw - or?   Łarsała - siała baba mak, nie wiedziała
jak - chłop powiedział: a to było tak... a sea-saw)
  while  some dwarf Polish Duck, a.k.a. politician added:
     V'AR!         -             while in this
  retreat in France - Taizé - i served out lunch and dinner
for the congregation, working with this German
  who preferred spiritual duty than army conscription
service; a memorable quote by him though:
   vey d dn't oonderstaand my good En'glish arr-cent:
   plus the Schwarzenegger for comparative literature.
I.
Drop drop, rain drops and music stops
Were they chanting at a dark dust light?
Echoes,  at year‘s end sea tide,
who knows those cares from left to right side sea bank.

We must depart,
off to departure together.
Where it leads and where to exits
it's little what they care.

II.
Although you, Sir of year’s end
Nichole whispered to Tomas
Isn’t it better to toast a wine to our departure?
December‘s snow roars to an early spring

III.
Tomas replied to her gently,
I could see through the willows of the inn-yard
And identify who will be going greener and greener?
And you have a solitude soul
where ocean waves rise high.

IV

Nichole and Tomas hand in hand
They were chanting together: “
It doesn’t matter where the path they take
Shall we departure
Off to departure
together, slowly walk into the darkness.
# Departure # Darkness

— The End —