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we take the justice we can get

every one is expendable i’m opening a new chic bistro prior guests will be listed on the menu we slice dice prepare any way you like sushi deep fried mesquite oven grilled baked accessories make the dish ginger pickles lime asparagus mustard and a drizzle of wine deer ***** cider mole sauces i haven’t decided yet on restaurant décor possibly post-modern austere but please write in suggestions everything must be totally freshly tossed killed tableside i want the kitchen immaculate industrial sized everything yet we roast minuscule tidbits frivolous details infused with essences reduction bio-molecular cuisine an entire 20 course meal in a tear drop obviously presentation is everything Channel Comme des Garcons Lamborghini will design plate arrangement after you’ve enjoyed a lavish sumptuous meal you become edible i mean eligible to provide for more recent patrons please hold still while the knife carves and oh how about those miners in Chile real theater i just read NASA’s Kepler satellite is selecting candidates for earth’s substitute the article repeatedly used the word candidates let’s just totally waste this place the faster we trash the world the sooner we get a new planet best weekly performance British Petroleum gulf oil debacle second best Hillandale Farms incredible salmonella egg



comedy tragedy dialogue

COMEDY come sit closer let’s share a laugh want to hear a joke

TRAGEDY i hate jokes

COMEDY you’re funny

TRAGEDY shut up you freaking clown

COMEDY there’s more to me than clowning

TRAGEDY oh yeah (pause) what? you pandering fool (pause) in my eyes every winking snicker is compromise collusion there’s nothing about you i like

COMEDY hater (pause) man you’re mean

TRAGEDY mean and unreasonable

COMEDY scary mean unreasonable (pause) yet funny

TRAGEDY ***** you (pause) mortality is tragic the world is wicked what’s funny about stoning people to death or ****** disfiguring women children or cheating enslaving the poor underprivileged this earth is a horrible place what the hell is so funny

COMEDY you you’re a joke a sad dismal joke the good news is i interpret humor in everything life is funny

TRAGEDY you’re a pitiful simpleton who perceives all existence from one lame brain viewpoint you can’t distinguish happy from sad good from evil you’re a mindless empty screen of canned laughter maybe some things aren’t meant to be laughed at or humor drawn from maybe you’re a rude mocking idiot what is so ******* funny

COMEDY what is so ******* funny (pause) i’m not laughing (pause) try stepping back getting a different perspective change your psychology consider the futility of existence fate of humankind

TRAGEDY we all do what we have to (pause) mind if i smoke (lights a cigarette)

COMEDY that’ll **** you (smirks laughter)

TRAGEDY we’re all fated to die

COMEDY you really need to see the absurdity in your gloom

TRAGEDY please go

COMEDY why do you have to be such a hard-*** why can’t we just get along we could create some wonderful art i really think we’d be good together

TRAGEDY i warning you

COMEDY i get the feeling we’re not going to be friends

TRAGEDY fast thinking (pause) go play with your happy snickering friends and leave me alone

COMEDY must we be enemies

TRAGEDY deal with it

COMEDY you’re going to miss me

TRAGEDY maybe maybe not (pause) these are dark troubled times

COMEDY why must everything be so serious with you

TRAGEDY if you persist i will be forced to turn this banter into regrettable disaster

COMEDY funny how things don’t work out

TRAGEDY yeah funny (pause) i guess the joke is on me



fate free will dialogue

FATE we each journey a path

FREE WILL i choose my own trail imaging myself triumphant inventing as i go

FATE what if you discovered your choices were influenced by forces outside you

FREE WILL i alone am responsible for my choices

FATE i’m not speaking about responsibilities

FREE WILL what are you speaking of

FATE there are aspects you may not realize

FREE WILL that’s ******* a person creates his or her own destiny

FATE do you believe Jesus Christ created his own destiny or John F. Kennedy Martin Luther King John Lennon

FREE WILL what are you saying

FATE there were circumstances cycles aspects forces possibly predetermined powers events ghosts

FREE WILL horseshit we are presented with existential choices our actions determine our destiny

FATE our actions determine our destiny huh what influences determine our actions

FREE WILL a person’s character courage discipline strength

FATE what forms a person’s character

FREE WILL parents circumstances cycles aspects forces the era

FATE hmmm near to what i was suggesting yet who can know why or how a few chosen make it while many others go bust or when where lightning strikes

FREE WILL so what do you believe? (pause) i’m speculating most people obey conform deaf to their own calling falling short of their dreams enduring lives of hushed disquiet

FATE hmmm we each journey a path

FREE WILL i choose my own trail inventing as i go alert to my calling

FATE uhhh i’m not as certain as you i admire your confidence conviction independence

FREE WILL hey i’m straight

FATE whatever
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2019
matt
did you get my reply? i hope you did, i had written approx. 5, and all of them deleted... i hope i allowed myself a justifiable response with this one:

how about solipsism? solipsism is an elevated term for autism, isn't it? me? personally? i love cats, but they have a tendency to become inexhaustive economists of curiosity... i wasn't implying autism as an insult, i was implying a more crude word, synonymous with solipsism, and there is no shame in that to begin with. i like cats, because i own two, and i'm most content, when i can allow myself the time, to allow them the same time, to be left alone. cat, solo... dog + man + tail waggling + throw a ball... i better post this reply before i allow this reply, to become deleted... with all the prior 5 that have been, and me, having to post the alternative, "revision".

i.e. i rather imagine autism to be in need of having an elevated status of being designated by the term: solipsism... how can i make myself elaborate? point being, i don't want to... i too am confined to a strict vocab. fixation for the purpose of expressing language, that mitigates, bypassing, shrapnel wording of: one category fits all, conjunction words, which, i find, I, to be akin to, when categorised as: AND to begin to confine oneself to, the subsequent rigor of nouns.

i hope this doesn't end, or begin as, an apology... by autistic i was imply solipsist, i wasn't implying the retrograde slur of ******... if there's any god, it's in the disinhibited self of the autist, readily plucked, by... no basis for either a selfish, or a selfless act... i'm over-wording this, but... point being... i needed to settle myself in a posit, above the current cultural norm of the troll... which has nothing to do with autism, or as i like to call it: solipsism, diminished to a slur of: automaton...

i hope you can make lite reading of this... i concede, i attempted to make more than necessary, and conciliatory scribbles... if in any way i redeemed myself, i hope you'll concede to entertaining, accepting my apology.

Jules  22h
My only issue was that your poem seemed to make Autism synonymous with stupid or any other derogatory term. However, seeing as that wasn’t how you meant it, I apologize. I’m a bit defensive as my brother has autism

Mateuš Conrad  22h
that's perfectly understandable, given the circumstances, i am hardly surprised... i'm still here if you want to continue past the initial shock-tactic of testing the waters with me, obviously we can change the subject and not stand, metaphorically: with knives pressed against each others' throats... there i was, thinking i'd reply diving into the subject matter for no, necessary clarification / added depth... but it's the least i can appreciate from your cordial response, as to, at least, appreciate a change in the subject matter, so that, both of us, can return to feeding off a sentiment of: being left, less, uncomfortable; which implies that i have to instigate the question to change the subject matter... hmm... speed-dating-esque trivia... movies, paintings, music... literature... ah... kind of blue, miles davis, my english teacher told me, that if anyone in the classroom didn't own this album by the age they were 30... there was something wrong with them... in my then paranoia, i bought the album, and now own it on vinyl... somehow... i find that there's something more wrong with me, owning it, than not owning it.

Jules  22h
Favorite movie- Mamma Mia, favorite painting- amazing piece by a local artist, music- currently obsessed with the Beatles, favorite book- We all fall down. I’m thoroughly impressed about how reasonable you are being given the circumstances, and after reading a few more of your poems, I can tell you are a good person

Mateuš Conrad  21h
oh come on... mamma mia?! and not something akin to west side story?! who's the local artist? i only access to a London base, and, that requires a networking schedule i'm not going to equip myself with; and i'm hardly surprised by how understanding you are of me, and i do wish to pay more compliments to you, but... i feel that that would overstate me taking liberty in me not incurring an over-simplified stance of my own liberty towards you... remember, i'm one person in writing against a blank, and another person to conjure forth a reply... against a canvas, that is a readied flesh of my own flesh, bone of my own bone, i can see the antagonist in the compounded state of, the sacrosanct state of lingo... i can be a ******* against a blank canvas, but, obviously, when i am to begin with a clarity of an addressee, i cannot consider staging a variation of something, inhospitable, as a Kandinsky-variation to suit myself... Jules, you can never become something akin i treat a blank sparring estate i perform in writing without, something you are already established with, concerns equivalent to my own predisposition being unchanllenged / or, rather, undistrubed. the beatles... i'm trying to find something of a vinyl collector's "beginner's luck"... i'm too into prog. rock music... EP album experiences, akin to: king crimson's debut: in the court of the crimson king... serves me right, for not getting into Mahler... or Eric Dolphy jazz... so i turned the blind eye, and moved toward pagan music... wardruna... hedningarna... in extremo... garmarna... faun... heilung... esp. the last... i have never wished to visit the Faroe Islands more, than, after listening to their music.

Jules  21h
Mammia Mia is my favorite almost solely because of the memories attached to it. You certainly are a unique person

Mateuš Conrad  21h
i agree, i'm a sucker for super trouper and money money money, i'm waiting for a Tina Turner musical, to be honest... don't worry, i've looked into some of your comment sections... i cannot alleviate the blatantly bogus comments that are worth nothing more than an immediacy to make antagonism... i can't, i wish i could, but.... it's either this variant of an outlet, or a punching bag... i'm as unique as you find me to be... but when i just see "demands to conform" to an otherwise unnatural behavior... i don't like behaving in a counter-cordial fashion... you understand me? if there's no need to be bogus, why begin to bother being so? i hope we can remain lodged into partial nuances... and continue this discussion, beside tomorrow, i.e. whenever you feel like to preserve it, which, i hope... you will strip away more of your anonymity... but even if that is to not be the case: i thank you for the compliments... but from having inspected the immediate comments... you are a most tender artifact worth double the inspection's curiosity with a shy eye... and until i take myself to rest, and slumber, i can only leave your with these words... i wish the world was more welcoming than i allow you to believe it to be. if you can ever forgive me, i can only hope you can, by bidding me a goodnight, and welcoming me back into the discussion, within the confines of a tomorrow.

Jules  20h
Goodnight, my hopefully future friend. Poetry is definitely one of the best outlets. I definitely understand that aspect of you

Mateuš Conrad  20h
i hope to entertain you here, once more, and all the future that can be shared between the both of us. let me see you tomorrow, and scrap a beginning of a conversation with you, once more toward a focus of a beginning... and see how many minutes this allows us to entertain an amnesia of: beginning with today... how about that? i'll take to sleep, and hope, to grin... i actually re-read what i wrote: and figured... if i was being all-too despotic in securing pedantry... but then... if you took to complimenting me, i have to compliment you: tender soul... scouting the merger of sight and the hybrid coast... tender petal... why not? who is to obstruct me telling you this? lever... beside the said and into what's thought... tender petal... what a Scouser would call pet, i'd call petal... or... heavily implied: stagnant Bismarck stipend... if it be too much to ask... write me more than under the scrutiny of below the already given minus, of the 10 sentences. come at me as a punching bag... just as an experiment... i want to be the new vanguard... experiment with being uninhibited.

Jules  19h
Even the way you talk is extremely poetic. I appreciate how you took the time to try to talk everything out to prevent us from having any bad blood between, and I see know that you didn’t mean any harm from what you said. Thank you for being so kind about it all. I sincerely hope we can pick up this conversation again tomorrow as I feel we are on the road to a promising friendship. I’d be happy to write more per text, but for the sake of experimentation, I’m intrigued to see if you could try to talk in a little less of a formal dialect

Mateuš Conrad  1h
trying to bypass a formal dialect will be hard, as we're too fresh into our patchwork of setting boundaries, rigid as that might sound, and the current climate, to me, you're a slab of marble, not a statue. this sort of friendship, you're talking about, requires us to keep a modest concern for language, which, awfully, is riddled with diatribe excerpts... how we will transcend this, is, well, concerned with both of us to decide... i'm starting to entertain the fact that you have an autistic brother, since i'm learning to be panicy-picky with my language... i too had an ultra-autistic "friend" back in high-school... and i would constantly retrieve a blank-state response from him, i.e. i was looking at less a person, and more: a labyrinth. how i'll transition into a more informal use of language, i'm unsure how that will take place, Jules, we can't exactly share experiences, we can only avast ourselves, on what will pursue its own noumenon characteristics of stated language. at present, we only share a commonality of language, i'm bewildered by stating something informal... i wish i could, but i'm only allowed an "aggrieved" presence to your wish for: informality, slang, holding-hands type of escapism. i think that, with regards to your wishes, we'll have to settle for a sediments' worth of unravelling, like me, you're too trying to escape the puddle's worth of being immediately "concerned" with the comment section... we'll need to find commonality... from yesterday, i can tell you: i had the beatles faze when i was leaving the years attributed to my teens... then i found it really hard to find new music, outside the realm of bands akin to tool, the neo-progressive rock bands... but i see your point, my language is the sort of formal, that stages a lack of intimacy, but this is an ontological-high-jump, given your reply, and emphasis on friendship... you will have to curate me, moving forward, since i will be unable to moderate how, me, interacting with you, will be adequate to have finally said, something informal, by your standards of scrutiny. time, i will first have to see some of your idioms to change my dialect; i'll begin, i'll tell you where this was written from, Romford, Essex, England.

Jules  1h
If we are to move forward as friends, I have to express my feeling on the autism topic. First off, Autism is a spectrum that ranges from high functioning to low functioning. 30% of people with autism are in fact of average or higher intelligence. Some of the most famous scientists including Albert Einstein were in fact autistic. It is not synonymous with simple or stupid in any way, shape, or form. I dislike that you said your friend seemed to be less of a person because he had autism. However, I understand that you’re misconceptions weren’t meant in a malicious way

Mateuš Conrad  51s
so how can i move forward to establish a less informal dialect? i wasn't focusing on the details of the stated condition, i know that i'm handling something as fragile as an egg in terms of what words i employ, and that i might seem astoudning, in having not contra opinions on the matter beneath the impersonal "facade"... but you were asking about how to make our interaction more uninhibited, if we're going to lecture each other about infringing on delicate matters... i wasn't implying the person in question was less of a person, i was implying he was more of a person, by resembling a labyrinth, i didn't take any personhood from him, i simply reattached it to a metaphor, of elevated complexity, of a labyrinth: i was lost in attaining a mutual comprehension of a shared experience with him... what's so bad about that? i only mentioned something in passing, since your's, was the original "concern"... you asked me how we could continue in a less informal manner... this reply will not answer your original "concerns"... what if i were to say: i'm schizophrenic? what then? you'd lecture me on... all of your knowledge on the matter? if we're all going to interrogate each other... thus... then you have a misconception of schizophrenics... akin to john nash... personally, i don't understand how you'd think i'd be primarily focused on something said: intended to be relegated to: in passing... guess what... i'll send this and...

      BLOCK

               i'm basically rummaging
through porcelain...
  i was ****** off one writing
platform for no reason...
   being ****** off from another
is not on my wish list,
from a very, simple,
lack of reciprocated
       feed of understanding;

   oh i know when i see minor *******,
some liking it to micro-aggression...
i chose a fox as my totem,
learning from a 2015 "debacle":
it looks innocent at first,
    but then spirals out of control;
the more i sieve through
this construct known as humanity,
the more i chose to remain
hidden.
   - and for all the worth
of the tabloid press...
   this is where i'll reign, myself
included.
Carla  Dec 2020
Unreasonably Okay
Carla Dec 2020
I’m not okay, but that’s okay.
I don’t need to be okay all the time.
I don’t want to be okay all the time.

That’s unreasonable.

I’m not okay, but that’s okay.
Waves wash over me in each gulp of broken breath I take.
Waves wash down my cheeks in every glimpse of this greyscale world I get.

It seems unreasonable.

To not be okay, is it really okay?
To have thoughts of everything in a field of nothing?
To believe you are nothing in the moment you are the most something?

It’s unreasonable.

I’m not okay, but that’s okay.
I won’t be okay all the time.
I can’t be okay all the time.

Unreasonable.

I’ve said it so much that okay has become unreasonable,
that a word repeated has lost all meaning
and all emotion.
It has lost structure and no longer looks of a word,
but the remnants of one.

Explain how a word that can be simplified to but two letters can lose all meaning.

It’s not okay.
It’s unreasonable.
Aria of Midnight Sep 2014
Infatuation;
when you focus, idolise and fixate upon
the one reason it will work--
ignoring the million others
that dictate otherwise

It is unreasonable
logic screams; reason shatters
yet so heartbreakingly human
Swords and Roses Nov 2015
I am not my age
I'm more than a hoodie
Stood on a street corner
Hands in my pockets

I am not my age
I'm more than popular music
Blasting in my headphones
So loud you can hear

I am not my age
I'm more than just hormones
Racing through my brain
Making me unreasonable

I am not my age
I'm more than just indifference
Not caring about school or health
Not caring about anything

I am not my age
I'm more than just my phone
Social-media crazy
Hidden behind a screen

I am not my age
I'm more than just a stereotype
Loud, brash, unruly, lazy,
Phone-obsessed, violent

I am not my age
I have a complex personality
I have inner depth
I think about things that matter

I am not my age
I write poetry
I write stories
I explore people

I am not my age
I'm vegetarian by choice
I hate to hurt anyone
But I will fight for my friends

I am not my age
My emotions are valid
But I keep them hidden
For fear of being manipulative

I am not my age
I do not give you my respect
Just because you've lived longer
You have to earn it

I am not my age
I care about politics
It is my country
What happens to it matters to me

I am not my age
I'm struggling through exams
I'm stressed but trying
I'm determined to work for what I want

I am not my age
I'd be happy to have a job
I don't loiter or lurk
I'm not lazy

I am not my age
I'm not dangerous
Seriously, I'm a ****
I get scared walking down the street in the dark

I am not my age
I have five pets
They matter to me
I take care of them

I am not my age
I'm trying to get to school
You don't indicate
And I'm inconsiderate

I am not my age
My dad left me at two
My mum bakes cakes
But you didn't think about that

I am not my age
I suffer from depression
I'm not 'moody' or 'grumpy'
But you think I'm all just hormones

I am not my age
So don't perpetuate stereotypes
You don't know me, don't pretend to
And don't blame your problems on me
my frustration with teenage stereotypes and how damaging they are
Jennifer Simmons Mar 2013
I am unreasonable in the worst way
Show me your reason, I will spit at it
call it scrap, throw it in your face, rub it
there till it stings when it scratches your skin.

Your reason is sandpaper
tied around a meat cleaver.
It pushes into my stomach when
we kiss, and when I put my hands
into your pocket, I feel its ragged
touch

I call it out,
it rises when it hears
its name, filled with biting self-righteous
indignation.  It feels jagged but it talks
so soft, says "Baby don't be like that"
and tastes like honey in my mouth.

Show me your reason, your
most hurtful part, your most invasive,
your barbed, unveiled threat
Show it to me and watch quiet as I take the knife
from behind my back
and it cut it off,
put it on the bedside table

smile and touch your limp
and sweetened open wounds.
Lawrence Hall Dec 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

      6 January 2021: To Ask to be Exempt Would be Unreasonable


        “Death . . . comes for us all, my lords. Yes, even for Kings he
          comes…”

             -St. Thomas More in Robert Bolt’s A Man for All Seasons


A slip of paper which I have since misplaced:

“SARS coronavirus 2 RNS
Detected”
Detected
DETECTED
Me? But I’m special (my mother always said so)

“If you have a question regarding your…”
Well, no, I guess not. Time to pause and think
To ask to be exempt would be unreasonable
But will my corpse be stored in a ****** truck?

To ask to be exempt would be unreasonable
And so
What must I do in service to God and man?



I wrote these clumsy lines in January after my daughter recovered from the CV; she almost died of it. My pharmacist was diagnosed at about the same time as I was, 6 January, and died within two weeks. My wife was quite ill for a week but recovered. Some fifteen of my friends and acquaintances died from it this year. One friend died in a three-hospital shuffle, and because of the paperwork his body was not released to his family for months.

Vaccines, as you will remember, were available to Congress in December of 2020 but not to most citizens until March of 2021 (AOC gets coronavirus vaccine on social media, as Congress begins to receive Pfizer injections | Fox News), and  (The Distribution Timeline for the COVID-19 Vaccine | coronavirus (utah.gov)).

My symptoms were only something like a prolonged bad cold, an undeserved mercy.

The CV is real.

May our new year be free from it.
Donald Guy Nov 2012
A thought sometimes forms

I live too much
yet I do too little.
    Woken at strange hours,
never asleep.
       Rapt in raps
       or wrapped in riddles
Chained to links
or hammered to handle
    stubbed to bone
Mens et
               Manus

There is time yet, I swear
        To flourish
To dream

        To make
To be
        To do
        To create

Will I?
We'll see
There's time yet to tell

Be yourself, they say
    The best you you can be
But once more— Will I have time
        To edit

I live less
        I do less
    Portfolio: empty
    or at least, locked away.
        Excitement too.
            Blank slate
Blank palette
Is there any paint?

Can I truly make
        excitement saturate?
Will I be able to place
        value as I see fit?
    Can the world be hewn slimmer, slicker
Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger

Tis daft I think, to amuse such a notion
But not necessarily so daft to be wrong
Emerson called it misunderstood,
Shaw found it unreasonable
But ay, theres the rub
That bed once made, must be lain in and
all dreams which might be had are alone not enough

Bloom effects don't work outside the movies.

Ideas are trash, these are recession times
Deflations made them a farthing a dozen
                                  
                        ­       Started 10.03.11
                               Unfinished
                               D.B. Guy
_Poems in Autumn_. #6 of 7 .
Nods to John Wieners' The Hotel Wently Poems (especially "A poem for painters") & William Corbett's MIT course 21W.756 Writing and Reading Poems
jeffrey conyers Jul 2012
You didn't listen.
You didn't learn.
And you wonder
Why they call you stubborn?

You act stupid.
When you're not.
You refuses to adapt.
When you should.
And you wonder
Why they call you stubborn?

You act unreasonable.
Just determine to remain the same.
And because of that you think others to blame.
Only if you agree.
Then you'll see how great things could be.

Except you're stubborn.
Just refuses to change.

Its not that you can't be controlled.
You just use to getting your way.
Except you're spoil.
And strictly stubborn to see.
That you could meet half way with me.
Sonali Sethi Aug 2014
She stands before the class
Her voice rings loud and clear
Each word beautifully enunciated
For all who wish to hear

The perennial English teacher
She reads with such dramatics and flair
Such a pity that its only noticed
by students in the first few chairs

She's reading out my poem
She paints pictures with her words
But honestly? Sometimes I find
Her explanations quite absurd

No, That's not what I meant!  
Dear teacher, stop twisting my verse!
Dear students,  please notice the flaws
In the story she so carefully rehearsed

It's amazing how sometimes she understands
The thought and feelings of what I wrote
And sometimes she gets it so very wrong
That I want to strangle her throat

She continues unperturbed
By the lack of interest in the room
Students only see her smile and energy
Not her disappointment and gloom

She worked so hard to teach them,
A little appreciation would go far!
But they just sit and pretend to listen
As they wait for the end for the hour

Finally, she comes across
That fateful line
The one that sparks a discussion
I watch the class come to life

In a tsunami of opinions,
She smiles proudly, riding the wave
She launches into her explanation
And it's the completely wrong one she gave

Its one of many misinterpretations
Of my carefully crafted work
There! That student! She understands what I meant!
Now now, don't tell her she's wrong. Don't be a ****!

A debate ensues and words fly
The classroom divides into two.
Half are on my side, dear teacher
And the other half believe you.

Out of the blue, the bell rings
For once the students want more time!
A pat on the back for the English teacher.
This victory is both hers and mine

So what if she gets it wrong sometimes?
So what what if she's too dramatic?  
Sometimes she's just unreasonable
She's your average literature fanatic

She always gets her point across
Without having to scream and shout
She teaches the students the value of words
Isn't that what it's all about?
I'm sure we've all at some point disagreed with our literature teachers! Honestly, sometimes I like to imagine that I'm a world famous poet and that my work if being discussed in a classroom somewhere. :D
D  Jul 2016
I let you go
D Jul 2016
Laying on the bed, reading your wedding invite.
I recall the day you went silent and I threw my crown.
Stepping down and lost myself.

Today I let you go, my love.
Not because I give up.
I believe you cared and you still do.

Your silence did cut through my flesh,
Your strangeness burnt my heart.
But here I stand today ready to let myself heal.

Years of gathering broken pieces of my heart.
My lost pieces of love, wailing to be found.
Stranded I searched, and I still do.

I held on to you, like a stubborn child.
Your memories engraved, your doings encircling my thoughts.
Strangely never remembering our fights, I was partial.  

My heart wanted more, my soul was thirsty.
I found pleasure in pain.
I kept you alive.

What a splendid journey, my love.
The impeccable high of your addiction.
As I drowned, I found myself.

One day I chose to revisit my past.
Regretting the time lost to stupid fights, blaming myself.
I never felt, keeping you alive.

Stupid were my acts, unreasonable was my anger.
Childish were my demands.
A sinner, at your altar I confess.

Sleepless nights, result of a restless brain.
Blaming you for the love I dreaded I deserved,
For making me feel worthwhile.

Keeping your memories alive,
Redoing my past, for an escape.
As the odds increased, so did my grief.  

For the broken promises, and the endless thoughts.
U left without a word, so did my Tears.
You coward, I pushed myself to oblivion.  

I saved our love when the world sympathised.
I held on to respect, for u and our love.
Wishing you the best, I kept u alive.

My futile attempts to blame you, was a curse.
A part of me found pleasure when they blamed you,
My stupid selfish heart.

But today I let you go my love, I allow myself to heal.
You meant so much, you still do.
But life is more than just you and me.


A part of my soul is still with you, it’s yours now.
Keep it safe my love.
I’ll nurture what is left of it.

As time flies by, I’ll heal.
For a better tomorrow, for a better me.
I’ll strive with a hollow heart and a partial soul.

Thank you love, for the heat.
For never cheating my heart.
For the never ending  euphoria.

I know u cared and you still do.
When you found me, I found myself.
For your breath of life, I’ll keep u alive.

You made me believe in good.
To Love someone more than my being.
Surprised I’m to know my strength.

Entwined souls, living in the moment.
We headed together, Insane and reckless.
Towards our predefined end.  

I’m glad it was you and no one else.
You were the one, my wildest decision.
Oh my wings, my strength.

But today love, I let you go.
I was your princess.
Now it's someone else.

It’s time to put back my crown to rule.
U won't be forgotten my love,
but like any life chapter ours has come to an end.
marina Apr 2013
i want to fall in love the way kids do-
diving right into

the kind of love that doesn't have to be
intimate or serious,
(because in all seriousness,
intimacy scares me)

the kind of love that makes a girl
want to tip her head back and laugh,
just for the hell of it

the kind of love that doesn't need
labels or reassurance
because none of it really matters when
together is  all that's on anyone's mind

the kind of love that happens
on the beach during summer in converse and
cutoffs and slushies and corntoss

the kind of love that happens ever day
right in my back yard
that i can't seem to find in anyone anymore
sorry, this isn't even poetry really.  i just needed to get thoughts off my mind.  this'll be deleted in a few hours.  or at least by tomorrow night.

seriously though, florida makes falling love (or infatuation) way too easy and way too hard all at once.  on one hand, it's impossible not to because of beaches and icecream and warped tour and guitarists and corntoss and music scene that is way too good.  there are too many options and people and places and things to fall in love with.
meanwhile, you grow up watching all the summer romance movies and reading all the books and then reality is just like ***, nobody really cares about each other like that.  either your the best of friends or you get into a relationship and either you (a) suddenly hate each other, or (b) somebody wants to elope, leaving the other person feeling flattered but totally awkward and everything ends disastrously.  

and that's all.  sorry for the rant.
Whimsical reason where are you? Come back to me!
Please tell me what happened to all I always believed.
I lost my direction,  goddess of love, she is all I can see,
my muse, my addiction, my love,  my reason to be.

Despite that it hurts me this fire inside,
I’m not willing to fight it, I just want to give up.
I'm losing my mind, I shall recognize,
she happens to be the beat of my heart.

Stunned by her beauty, the moon has to hide.
Softened by her voice, cicadas shut up.
The swans on the pond come close to admire…
the hallucinatory aura she’s leaving behind.

Who am I to be fighting this divine force?
Wasn't she created to show me just how
the blessing of love is granted to those
who dare to fight their judgement with their soul?

I'm bound to accept there is  only one choice…
To let go on my pride, to be honest to me,
to surrender the keys, to accept to rejoice.
to take off all my shields and to let my love be.
Many times love is perceived as a distraction,  as something that must we must control. Human history proves that wrong. My poem is about how impossible is to resolve that feeling with reason.

— The End —