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Writing is very cathartic for me,
In the same way,
Which,
Bleeding is cathartic for plague treatment.
After drenching a page,
I sit,
Corpse-still, Catholic cathedral still,
Feel!
Echoing off my abandoned adorned walls.
Connor Vibes Jul 2018
Blazing the sun,
Here I am living my life having fun.
The days go by in a world that never sleeps.

Despite my efforts in life of doing my best. Life to me feels like it is a test.
Sometimes I weep, I feel like I’m playing on a deck of cards.

Sometimes people ask, what’s the matter?
But my life’s just getting better.

My soul is like the ocean,
Strong, deep and wild.
Adventurous and creative to the core.

I find myself wanting more.

I’m surrounded in a world that’s just about vanity, but to me that’s just insanity.

Sometimes I feel down, I feel like a clown.
There are times I cry and die a little inside.

My head feels like it’s going to explode when I feel anxious, moments when my head feels like it’s on fire because I feel dire.

I walk alone because I’m wise. I avoid small minds.

Music and clarity are the only things that keep me away from insanity. They are the reflection of my aura. The definition of my life’s mission.
After all, I’ll always do what I can with my time just to be fine.
There’s no need to use my intuition.

A poem written by Connor Vibes.
(2018 - All rights reserved)
no emotionally ecstatic experience compares
   to the seminal instance
   whence spermatozoa
   (from profuse *******) beget

the miraculous propensity
   to procreate despite the steep odds
   female fertility fosters potential impregnation
   fusing the hereditary debt

of feral, fiery, fomenting friskiness
   fueling fancy free footloose fornication
   prior to seminal fertilization union
   sans ova doth induce fret
full ness in tandem with

   diametrically opposed exultant sensations
   (biologically, embryonically, microscopically,
   et cetera) seismic shocks inject  
when deliberate intent arises to disregard

   applying prophylactics choice
   plying reproductive roulette let
which analogous fruitful uterine plain
   bastes the "cooking" egg omelette  

which impregnation upends cessation of "self"
   first and foremost asper desire to breed
wrenching role of "me" as operative
   of webbed world de jure upon
   consummating that most miraculous deed

necessitating yet for the fecund female relief
   from messy menstrual cycle
   she becomes temporarily freed
that perhaps a novitiate (or even a gal practiced
   in the euphoric family, she instinctually
   abides prenatal signals that heed

without feeling debased, harangued, lectured
   pedagogical, polemical, puritanical, et cetera blast
assessing copulation enjoyed gloriously,
   ineluctably, kinesthetically
   lectured by elder, especially cast

in thee reel life drama, that nine months
   til offspring utters initial whimper
   elapses exceptionally fast
emitting a radiant golden halo wishing

   to bottle confluence of hormonal secretions last
ideally fully awake to the birthing process,
   when juiced the first stage of maternity past
cuz every moment thee inconsolably

   (perhaps colicky infant)
   gets first dibs to suckle,
   which round the clock nursing
   consumes moments many vast.
LizO Mar 2018
Oh, to wreck a room!
To unleash my rage
And let fury from its cage.
With just one ornament I’d start
Then break all f**king else apart.
It would so make me smile
To let anger out for a while.
It wouldn’t end pretty, but
Oh, to wreck a room!
RC Dec 2017
It's like I'm fighting time
never have enough but always wasting too much
waiting on time to fix the broken parts of "us"
wondering when things will feel right if they ever will

I'm still stuck on moments people said would heal
been struck by the realization that learning how to accept
is to learn how to deal
but acceptance comes with time
and through time wounds have been revealed

These days my words ring empty, my voice remains low
I've been made of broken promises
over the months it's started to show
Commitment to my future is all too rooted in my past
I need to let go of comfort
this time around I have to make the changes last
Just needed to get it out.
RC Aug 2017
Somewhere between meeting you and loving you I stopped writing.
I've built up so much to say I don't know where to start
with everything you broke or all the times you broke my heart.
I could begin with your secrets and their names
shed light on the pain, the shame
and talk about how much it still weighs.

I could go on about our begin-agains and epiphanies,
spiritual connections and energy,
adventures that will go down in history
but those things don't consume me
I need to bleed out these other feelings,
I want to work on forgiving.

You know this isn't all your fault.
Scared to love you I bittered my heart
and you hated the taste;
didn't believe in letting your time go to waste
so part of you let go.
I'm not sure that part ever came back...
Maybe I've seen it but it never stays,
and neither do you.
Damian Murphy Jun 2017
Life events will have an impact
Both negative and positive.
It all depends on how we react,
Cope with such changes as we live.

Some bring great joy, sorrow or pain;
They change us fundamentally.
Life cannot be the same again
As we view it differently.

Life will go on nevertheless,
No doubt more changes we shall see.
And how we react, nothing less,
Shall decide how our lives will be.
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