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Most people go from
point A to point B .
but not for me.
I can start
at point A
and then go to B ,
but then something happens
and I'm passing E F G .
I can go from A to Z, but I get some mixed up in between.
Johnny walker Jan 23
Upon the morning light It to there briefly l would wake to turn and snuggle Into my wife so warm and cosy
my nose filled with her beautiful perfume so safe and protected laid there basking In the radiating warmth of her beautiful body
but sadly then she started to get terrible pain In her back which eventually
sadly ended the snuggling In
never again would I be able to do this my wife had to have a separate bed designed especially for her needs
I took the settee opposite her so could tend her every need as 24/7 carer for ten years I slept on that settee never being able to just hold
for fear of hurting and causing more pain Helen's bones they were crumbling thinning at a fast rate
she required a wheelchair for fear of falling and breaking a bone which would have been extremely difficult to
but I loved her and would have gone to **** and back for her but now she was gone I think I'm already there **** that
Sad story of a poor girl who suffered so muck In life that poor girl was Helen my wife
Jessa Asha Dec 2018
Nasasaktan ko na siya,
Oo nasasaktan ko na siya,
Sa mga iniisip kung wala namang kabulaanan,
Sa bawat pagdududa ko na wala namang ebidensya,
Sa bawat hinahagip nang isip at puso ko na wala namang katuturan,
kasi pinaniwalaan ko ang katagang
"womens instinct is always right"
pero hindi,
hindi sa lahat ng oras tama tayo
hindi sa lahat ng araw mga hinala natin ay totoo,
bagkus, sa kalulunod sa ka kaiisip ko na may mali, ay nilulunod ko na pala ang "Siya" ang "Tayo" ang "Kami"
Hindi ko na namalayan,
na hinihila ko na sya papalayo,
na ang pundasyon ay unti unting winawasak ko
sa kaiisip na akoy niloloko pa rin,
Hindi ko namalayan,
na naging makasarili na pala ako,
pero hindi ko pa rin maiwasang mag isip,
pero nilalabanan ko
hanggang sa nakita ko nalang
ang "Siya" ang taong mahal ko
duguan ang puso, napapagod na ang katawan,
Napagtanto ko, Hindi ko lang sinasaktan ang Sarili ko
In a minute,
I'm a *** smirk.
A shiny fang to show.
This pleasure, bundled
into nerves,
will decompose.

There isn't one chance.
Not one savior.
it still takes
its molasses-sweet-***-time.

I won't pray.
I won't wait.
As I am
& I shall be
the anti-divine.

I'm a literal *******.
I've long since comes to terms,
to terms with it.
I'm a depiction of the pits.
I've long since loved my worst,
my worst and best.


In a minute,
I'm a lost eye.
A stab wound, deep & old.
This sadness, bound
in my synapses,
wants me to know:

There is no escape.
No dissuasion.
it wrestles
my ill logos for control.

I won't pray.
I won't pray.
As I am
& I shall be
funny chemicals.

I'm a literal *******.
I've long since comes to terms,
to terms with it.
I'm a depiction of the pits.
I've long since loved my worst,
my worst and best.
kailee cardinal Nov 2018
he called me all these names
but i think i love him
hes my one ideal
he may have cheated me over
but i love him
hes my one ideal
i want one more day to cuddle
cause i love him
he is my only ideal
Ken Pepiton Oct 2018
Forwards and fore words are cult if ations, (cultureshapen)
words we would find mean more

than their idle kin dread, (a play)
if we had been reared
starting now

A push from behind,
God put padding for a reason,
Mrs. Marshall said. Second grade.

A word, to the wise, is enough.

That's the clue that leads to leaven,
and a little leaven...
you know, or say you do, of course,
we've known yeast
resurrects in our bread, for eons and ages,
Good Lord.

We know how things work.

If we be honest,
a little bit, we know how things work.
Sayin' hon, I ain't sure I know what honest was.

To tell the truth, I don't suppose anybody knows,
wit'out attention's terrible price,

secret price, only the paid and payer know it, ever.
Sacred makin', sacrifice,

that's a one time deal, for real.

A mortal man can't know until he dies if he unbelieved all his
lies, but his try's are said to give him some -umph,

What manner of men are we that it is given unto us

to be? That is an answer worth paying attention to chase, per
haps. Not, to be or not to be, what choice, before now? You know?

Remember, we asked. Together, we agreed,
that greed will draw us to the treasure,

do you mind my taking greed from agreed and making it work.

it does work. it is an essential elemental,
desire is another word they use, but that gives it more
purpose than greed, and calls for more minding of the process.

Once a reifying action has begun we must maintain our equilibrium,
find ourselves falling, once more, into dis-traction
on life's slipper *****.

Slipper-iness has meaning.
Ask any little princess planning to grease her foot with KY.
It can be good or bad, not good or evil.

Squeeks from the audience, sometimes signal gasps,
as agap is crossed, like a spark,
mnemonical daemonic algorythms, those ain't bad you understand?

The Intelligence in Re-al, 's'no accidental instance of order over chaos that just cain't quit,
that ain't it.
Geeks as you know geeks,
Gates, Jobs, 'nem, A. I. Imagineers,
did not write this algorithm of life, as it turns out,

The Idea of God seems not to have needed help
designing a safeground,
where kids can play.

Sam Harris axed me, vicar-iously, Do you believe in literal
re-sur-rection of some formerly
living thing/ any?

Yes, yeast, I do. It seems dead, only our knowing it's not
and proving other wise de-ifs the possibility it's dead, now alive.

It's like that cat box, Schrödinger has.
Anything is possible, God knows, Jesus even said so,
wit' God, all o'this is possible,
save lying and dying and failing to be good for me.

Living, it seems, is the deed we do
to prove living forever is worthy of trying,
happily ever after, starting now,
if you wish to stay mortal and never know,

you can't.
You know you die, so you die.
that goes on.

It's **** to try that with no triumph in sight.
Alone, especially.
I heard the phrase Jesus Bomb during the JBP/Sam Harris talk on youtube. I thought it might be fun to make one. If you notice, the poems posted here, byme, time as proven flow together onward.
acacia Jul 2018
i said i'd jump in this fast, so don't slow me down
)if i'm going too fast(

there's no turning back
and i asked if you could not hug her there;
you only hug me there.

'cause people, they don't understand.
won’t care to understand.
your family ain’t gonna understand
brain can’t even understand.

i can feel its roar (the wind in my heart
that blows your hair);
and this monster is terrifying my mind for revenge.

and my tank water is green, and something i've never seen

-- this algae --

continues to grow.
i thought it was ich at first, but it's

turning me off. (i don't expect you to understand how this car works)

the fish feel left out and so do i.
but you all won't ever understand.
inspiration from the strokes
acacia Jul 2018
i’ll trust you even when you’re mean,
even when you’re hard,
even when your fire has turned cold.
i know it’ll heat up for me again.
it always does.
acacia Jul 2018
The room is dark, you’re on top of me.
We’re banging, we’re tilling this damp dirt, and almost instantly sprouts begin to reach.
Newborn, fleshly pink sprouts, glistening with the dew of love itself.
And in my mouth, I almost throw up the amount of pleasure derived from this.
Passion escaping your pores, secreting in secret, secreting some more.
You take away my breath again,
but I remember to submit to such things. This nature isn’t something I want to run from.
You let go gingerly, watching me desperately breathe – gasping for air – this is magical.
In exchange for this, I continue to give you total control. I am okay with this.
You hold me gingerly, tenderly, cradling my body as you dig so deep,
Trying to fertilize, grow, nurture.
Bodies soaked, sweat bouncing everywhere. I’m trying to make sure my mother doesn’t hear me.
You’re planted so deep. You continue to say to me, “****, it feels like I’m tearing something.”
You look awestruck, and you say something I blush at.
I take a moment to look into your brown eyes glittering and glimmering,
glittering and glimmering in the pitch as black room, with nothing but
your gleam, and soft glow.
Sarah Maher Jul 2018
A snake that she is!!
Taking a name and placing blasphemy upon it
It is a sin to lie, did you know?
What a hypocrite, you are!
I know the Lord tells me to hold my tongue.
But see, I am too— a sinner.
So I speak from anger.
Why does she start drama with her gossiping tongue?
Does she not have her own life to worry about?
Does mine entertain her more?
Mind your own, you snake!
Be gone, I demand of thee!
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