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a man sits
at the bottom
of the steps
not blocking the path
but he cannot be missed
begging alms
from the myriad
who climb and descend
in droves
the cup he holds
is barely weighted
by the meagre amount
he has received
he patiently wishes goodwill
to all who pass
despite their lack of offerings
even though
the majority will ignore
purposefully averting their eyes
or apologetically decline
to part with
any lose change
instead saving their coins
to pay their entry
to marvel at
the gilded interior
of the church
whose teachings include
"love thy neighbour"
FC Azaele May 2021
Master of Arts
The soul of mine, I cannot find!
I’m lost in the ocean, amongst crashing waves — I’m almost blind!
Mastering of Arts, I beg of you — let the fates be kind

I have been good, haven’t I?
I’ve fed my body well and kept my healthy veins —
... my mistake was that I hadn’t fed another
anything but grains —
But, I don’t understand? I too am a man!
with needs of my own, and I support a wealthy land!
I have wives that lay by me, I feed them well with my hand
Is that not enough for you master? Sight o’foreseeable! What comes of me now? too lay like a fish? I hope that comes by faster!

The waves ripple,
the water crashing by at my feet
I scatter away, frightened by the coming dribble
The sky was turning dark — an upcoming storm was to pass by, I had no shelter and nothing here to eat

My stomach growled, too loud of a sound
It had been awhile since it’d done that, I was always kept satisfied
Now, nothing’s here — not fishes nor ground
The sky roared, electrified
The storm was approaching too soon!
No blues, No light loomed
Overhead. Only the thundering boom.

Too much to bear! Too much too weigh!
Oh Master of Arts!
I’m sorry I hadn’t looked down the lanes!
I saw them too, Ah! They had been too frail and somber!
Starving all day!

Forgive me, Master! I won’t make another...
the seas are crashing courses with their waves,
Stronger each time, “I don’t have all day to be saved!”
But lightning struck, and I swore to keep my place in line
now isn’t the time to be a swine!

Selfishness is another seed to be taken, enough to make you blind
Master of Arts
I swear to you,
I’ll pay more mind
to the frail, aching bodies of the souls
in need
I have enough — I swear it! — to feed!

Master of Arts,
Let the fates be kind..
I swear I have changed, my mind, my acts, my scroll
Amidst all
I have realized
My role
My fake smile
My fake laugh
My fake happiness
I say I'm good
While I'm begging myself to tell someone
I'm crying on my knees
Pleading for myself to stop lying
Begging to tell someone
Wishing I would listen to the voice asking for help
~30/3/21
Trojan Mar 2021
One, two, three
Silver coins
Silver scales

Four, five, six
They go down
One by one

Seven, eight, nine
In a bucket
Plucking them out

Ten, eleven, twelve
Blood and pleadings, cries
Squeezing wounds and lies
December, 2020
Marie Lemieux Mar 2021
He plunged his hand in the half-fitted
electrical socket, absorbing electrons
and sluicing them through to his core.
A recreation fit for a man of no station.

The nightmare of homelessness’ prospect,
the jarring from entrepreneur to beggar
was not a loosely whispered theme
but the pocket-guarding we recognize,
whose opening threatens to spill
more than simple vanity.

His watched as his insides tumbled
into the street, broken beans of pride
nestled between the acid
and the hernia he gave himself
coughing out the last of his security
amongst the well-wishers
attempting to shield themselves from his need.

Discomfiture had not yet defecated itself
through his seams and the letters and links
he sent out as a man trying to hold a lifeboat
without the fervor of clinging hands.
The ache to survive not a desperate one,
desperation having kicked itself out
over the politeness of circumstances
that called for something else.

Turning back into himself, he *****
his fingers as he pulls himself out
of the electrical socket, and walks to pick up
his innards on the street where they lay,
his pride now a forgotten thing
like the pocket-guarded slacks
with the loose seams.
Kristin Dec 2020
How do I love you?
I obsessively read
Pisces love horoscopes
though I am a Capricorn

How do I love you?
I vividly imagine
our colorful future together
though I know it's unlikely

How do I love you?
I unhesitatingly take
your jabs at my best efforts to please you
though I know you're projecting

How do I love you?
I ask myself, constantly, repeatedly
why my love for you isn't enough
though I do know the answer

How do I love you?
I incessantly interrogate myself
a beggar for love, begging away
though there's a treasure trove inside of me

How do I love you?
as I look longingly at my reflection
at the woman who is still learning to love herself
though her soft, open  heart has  be restrung like a treasured violin
Daisy Ashcroft Nov 2020
Every day the delirium grows
That our actions don't change our fate.
It's only the scarce few that know
That what we do determines Earth's expiry date.

The more forests that we set ablaze,
The weaker our planet gets.
The more companies that say that it's only a phase
The more people begin to forget

That countless children
Are failing to see a future
Countless children
Have never seen the beauty of nature.

But if we stand together
And we don't fall apart
Everything, we will weather
And a change we will start.

Countless humans
Are begging for a planet to live on,
So countless humans
Must stand up and be relied upon
To make that possible for their fellow brothers,
Sisters, friends and everyone who suffers.
You begged me to stay
So I stayed

You begged me to change
So I changed

You begged me to smile
So I smiled

If I beg you to die
Will you die?
i beg you to stop begging me
Alexandra Eames Sep 2020
...my head back into the pillow.
She quickly straddled me.
She began a gentle rocking motion
with her hips,
with subtle glee.
Her thick, precious long hair,
hung down like curtains of night,
around my lust-flushed face,
until I was in perfect darkness right.
She then began caressing
my nakedness with her feathery-locks,
along my silky, trembling body,
from up my heavenly hips,
my tight, tender, heaving tummy,
my aching, stiff-nippled *******,
my entire being erupting in goosebumps,
chilly and blazing,
spicey and tasty,
aching and burning,
burning,
burning -******!
begging for quenching,
which she does
quickly
and
I'm done.
HeyitsAngel Jul 2020
I beg on my knees
For people to stay
The people I want to stay the most
Are the ones I am better without
Please don't go
Is what I have said to people I thought were my forever
Please don't break my heart
I am done begging
For the attention, you don't want to give
Don't give me hope
I give 100 percent to people
Make time for them
Comfort them
But who's there when life hits me
I have my amazing family
But I only want to tell them so much
Music is key
Writing poetry is great
It's words that you truly feel
It ***** when everything around you is great
But mentally you feel off
I feel broken
Even though you could look at my life
And say what does she have to be sad about
I wish I knew why I feel so sad
I'm tired
Nothing really interests me anymore
The things I once loved I don't anymore
I am going to bring back that happy girl
She is somewhere
I will fight to be happy again
There will be no more confusion with my tiredness and sadness
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