The power that possesses,
The young and restless,
Ahead,
To both death marches and weddings.
Did you question the message you were fed?
You should just seek warm bedding...
I guess.
So,
Is it the beginning of the ending?
Or just the end of the beginning?
Rotting,
From the inside,
Is youth's defining essence.
Can you smell the corpses rotting? A cubicle a coffin. There are few things that can keep a shell like me walking. Do you understand me when I'm talking?
my beloved
centre of my being
not power untold
nor riches
nor diamonds
nor silver or gold
but a rarer treasure
buried deep inside my very soul
yet in the scale of things
and deep within my heart
a wondrous thing apart
beloved
love’d be
as me to you
so you to me
strong yet never
ostentatious
rock upon which to build
all future hope
beloved
love’d be
Love is surely what makes everyone's world go round.  There are many kinds of love. but the best kind is having that one person in your life who makes you feel
safe
secure
the need to be a better person
This is a poem written for that one special person in my life.  Sheila of Kegworth
Why?
Why does the homeless man starve?
Why am I stuck, hungry and alone
In this niche I’m trying to carve?

Why?
Why does the world avoid acknowledging reason?
Why is the thinker ostracised,
Nay, persecuted, like a rebel hung for treason?

Why?
Why does the neurotic partner abuse the other?
Why do we lose our shit
And become violent like a wife-beating, drunken father?

Why?
Why do we poison ourselves?
Why do we smoke, snort, shoot up and drink?
Why do we abuse our temple,
Like a supernova’s collapse, on the brink
Of wiping out us
And everything around us.

If I had to answer
All of these burning questions
I could do so with one stroke,
No concessions;
We are purposeless and disconnected.
We are infected,
A sickness that eats one on the inside
Like an ingestion of bisulphide –
This sickness I speak of
Is a sickness of the mind and the heart;
It is the reason for dying art
The reason everything feels
Like we’re on our way to hell on an express cart.

This greed, this marauder of souls
Swallowing us all, we become
Sentient, wandering, black holes
Destined
To consume everything.
Trying to fill up the void
The one on the inside,
The one that has destroyed
Our sense of communal love.

This anxiety, this harbinger of malevolence
Even in benevolence
It finds a way to ruin things.
It can befall even the greatest of all,
No one is immune, not even kings.
Anxiety
Is the culmination of our fears
It is a beast that will leave you in tears
It is rooted
In our fear of the unknown
This terror
Of setting out, alone.

Alone, we are afraid.
Greed
Is easier to fulfil
It is far easier
To harbour ill will
To shoot and kill
To hunt down, to chase the thrill
Of feeling superior.

Together?
Together,
Our planet, our lives,
Everything can be better.
Well, am I wrong?
all the love and support Ive gotten on here,Thanks so much to all of you you've shown me that not everyone is evil.
I was in class
And there was this pain
Just behind my ear
And I waited for it to go away
And it didn't
I discovered plugging my ears
Made it go away
But I was in class
I wanted to hear
What they were saying
So in the end,
I listened instead
and my curiosity caused me pain
And while it hurt,
I wondered
Would this make a good poem?
No,
No it would not.
Another throwback, how many of these do I have?
So many.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this light piece.
xxx
SHE 2d
Sipping my favorite cup of tea
Looking at the night sky,
Making a deep sighs and
Thinking the idea of you and me-
Nights like this are the moments
I am wishing that
You are here with me.
Faith 3d
There is a tornado wreaking havoc,
Within the walls of my skull,
Shattering my psyche.

There is a small voice,
Imbedded in the lining of my stomach,
Speaking of hope and potential.
The noise is so faint,
I dare call it a whisper.
Hanna 3d
He was the day.
Bright and warm.
Just basking in his company heated my insides.
His smile so blinding, I couldn’t look directly at him.
Overcast days came, but he picked me up and laid me down on his grey clouds.

But he was the night.
Stormy and cold.
His words were lightning and I was struck.
His voice was thunder and I was shaking.
So dark was he that I never knew what to expect.
His rain was pelting and I forgot my umbrella,
for it had been so dry yesterday.

He was the day, but he was the night.
I don’t know about this one. I just felt the need to publish it.
would what that be junior? senior? sophomore?

since this brother in law rarely emails,
     ye may scrunch countenance puzzled,
     or on verge of emitting flatulence,
     that if a ripper got let loose (by Jack),

     would possibly find ja propelled,
     thru Edgar Allan Poe's churchly
     sepulchral tintinnabulation
     (where for greater effect

     yukon envision imagistic ravenous bats
     in belfry resonating air,
or perhaps blasted back
     to the House of the rising sun),

     BUT...gnome hatter,
     no win tent may starkly appear
explaining inexplicable reasonable rhyme,
     why aye dash communique

    minus virtual trumpeting blare
(sorry, but in the interest
     of belated birthday cheer,
without computer generated imagery)

     rendered hoop fully readable,
     sans black and white Scottish matted pixels
constituting beloved appellation
     unsure how to address ye perfectly clear

while sitting atop padded office chair,
pondering as already writ,
     how to acknowledge thee, whither with dear...
meanwhile, this scribe experiences

     comfortably numb derriere,
now scrambling, resorting, and toying
     to fetch acceptable, catchy light hearted endear
mint, that seems tolerably acceptable

     (of course) with flair
acutely perceptive, though NOT overboard with glare
ring obeisance, NOR USE ALL CAPS
     TO SCREAM so ye kin hear  

soap hull ease excuse this incurable
     Harris scribe with thinning heir
yes...oye gevalt, infantile regression finds me
     burrowed in Schwenksville, Pennsylvania lair

still emotionally inchoate, though grown a mere
speck within the flotsam and jetsam near
to boyhood Collegeville abode NOT saved by a prayer
re: home companion bachelor Norwegian farmer

replaced instead by vinyl city
     all in the name of progress
which (once a pawn a time)
     open farmland did dis app pear

so...a gam bulling gambit
     to avoid moseying down Level Road...
may NOT seem queer
for insufferable sadness

     with eyes bursting with many a tear...
(gulp) tis best to veer
away from topic uh viz er rated razed homestead,
     and mainly wish ye another birth year!

adieu...from math tha hue
U706636 3d
When you say you love me what do you mean?
Because the things you do to me seem to keep hurting me constantly.
When you say you love me what do you mean?
Does that mean for you to keep lying to me how can you say you love me when you keep doing the same things and nothing seems to change.
When you say you love me what do you mean?
When I find stuff under your car seat lets me know you're still messing around on me.
When you say you love me what do you mean?
Should I be blind and not see what kind of love you have for me?
But I can't be blind and I can see what kind of love you have for me, the kind of love that's going to keep hurting me the kind of love that's Unfaithful and untrue so how can you say you love me when none of it was true...
L
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