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دema flutter Oct 2018
It's not cool that you did that,
why are you always contradicting yourself, on purpose?
William A Poppen Jun 2018
Is it harder to let go of
Bad habits and addictions
Or, harder to climb over
That wall where
Feelings hide away

There is so much one can do
With feelings, stuffing them
into some bulging mental drawer
Is generally counterproductive
And learning to befriend them
Is no easy task albeit
Extremely worthwhile

Each engendered feeling
Seems as tough to hide as
A newborn puppy
In a college dormitory

Peaking over the wall
At secreted feelings
Displays piles of anger, fear, envy,
While more pleasant feelings like joy  
Fight to garner attention

Pleasant or unpleasant
Gently pet each emotion
Befriend it and it will
Give you strength
And insight into
Weathering a crisis,
Healing a relationship
Or finding your path in life
Not sure this is even a poem.  I can't seem to make it flow so I'm posting it as a stream of consciousness.
Druzzayne Rika May 2018
When people are talking
conflicts are erupting
even when everyone appear calm
some feelings are harmed

Using the most cutting weapon
we do not know how to control
The tongue has the most victims
no one considers at all

careless whispers
and the screaming match
hurting all those who matter
deeper than mere scratches

Resentment stays
as the words replays
and the distance grows
even if it does not show.
Katie Hawkins May 2017
Days pass through nights.
The leaves blows through the wind.
A dream shoots through stars.
A heart beats in a pulse.

The stars gleam in the day,
The heat sways in the night,
The water twists in the desert,
The sweetness of the sugar free cake.

I never asked to be different.
I never dreamed of being lost.
But every turn that I try,
leads me down that line.

I wanted to belong,
I wanted to be free.
But like the man chasing me,
It's my obsession.

A backward life slips along
The fire burns dull
A tear becomes dry
A dream is empty.

The daughter raises the mother.
The son h teaches the father.
The victim murders the killer.
The page draws on the pencil.

I never asked to be different.
I never dreamed of being lost.
But every turn that I try,
leads me down that line.

I wanted to belong.
I wanted to be free.
But like the man chasing me,
It's my obsession.

Nobody said I had to be perfect.
Nobody  told me to be sane.
Nobody asked me to be the queen.
Nobody taught me to be proper.

Nobody offered me my milk and cookies.
Nobody ever offered me my slice of life.
Nobody ever gave me my money.
Nobody ever gave me my dreams.

I never asked for anything from you.
I never asked for a hug,
A kiss
A story
Love.

I never asked to be different.
I never dreamed of being lost.
But every turn that I try,
leads me down that line.

I wanted to belong.
I wanted to be free.
But like the man chasing me,
It became my obsession.
Personal. More like a song-poem.
Gabriel burnS Jan 2017
War by proxy,
the future of conflict
super powers clashing
on foreign soil
in battles fought by locals
divided into camps
pitted against their own
for differing convictions
not for the lack of reasons;
fuel to the fire added
by their recruiters
propaganda,
subterfuge,
subversion;
no need to worry about ordnance
and military hardware,
ammo and suplies
they will be provided
duly
by the sponsors;
the agenda is
to drown a patch of land in blood,
with an island built from bones
lonely in the middle,
just big enough for a g-man
to set foot upon,
tie the laces of his boot;
an then move on.
But what of all the residue?
Nothing goes to waste
all will be reused
blood to fuel
bones to amunition
surviving souls to generations of hate slaves

If you're elsewhere building an oasis
somewhere peaceful, someplace quiet,
watch your back and keep an eye
on the silent sky
there are birds of steel and wires
with their artificial brains
roaming, cruising, watching,
their senses and their talons
lent to their
puppeteers, mere employees
looking for a chance,
at that multikill promotion
fingers itching at the joystick...
but outside and back at home,
a prison cell of boredom
waits to chew them in slow motion
to the bombed and the bombing,
to the greedy and the mourning,
we don't call this life
hell is real
we're both prey and hunter
madness is contagious and haunting
Paul Butters Aug 2016
Bruised and battered egos:
Retaliations –
Flaming tornadoes spiral up to stormy skies.
Mixed metaphors of caviar and custard
Maelstrom mightily around the mountains of Hell.

Trolling is appalling
And flaming burns.

Let go of that ego
Is my advice.

Be humble from the start.
No-one is great enough
To be beyond reproach
Or criticism.

Who cares how good or otherwise I am?
Who cares what anyone says
About my work?

I am what I am,
End of story.
To Describe what I am is fine:
See those metres, verses, rhymes
And metaphors.
Dismantle me if you wish,
But (please) put me back together.

No-one should stand in judgement,
Except maybe God,
With His bright wide wings.

So stop the abuse,
And sourceless insults.
Cease the condemnation,
Or stand to be IGNORED.

Paul Butters
Peace to the World of Poetry......
Cascading Chaos Sep 2015
Complications starkly
stand before the
rising tides of illusions.
Perfect sunsets slip beneath
the apex of
my dreams.
Darkened now, we grow restless.

Carry my weight in your
heart. The load is yours
to manage.
Quiet shadows lurking
remind us we know
no truth.
Hopeful gestures, yearning.

Let me go
pursue with grace
what little strand
of dignity
creating forward motion
I wait.
The next blow is sure to **** me.

Icy heat and
knotted organs
sloshing slowly towards
the fall.
Trains with human rhythm
beget nothing but
wounded wisdom.
Repeat.
You thought it was enough
but I saw through all the hullabaloo and fluff
You can't fool me the same way you did to them
I saw every loose hem
I've been observing brightly colored canvas
and I've smelled different kinds of grass
You could say that I already knew you before you do
I could feel the same as you

Maybe this is the special connection between two people hidden in the word "promise"
but I doubt you'd feel mine once it comes because you've never observed me the same way I have...
Things you realize when it comes to friendship...
aniket nikhade Aug 2015
A blessing in disguise at the right moment of time
Blessed is the mind
Blessed is the soul
Blessed are the thoughts all those which belong to mine

The best thing to do in life is to face everything that comes along the way of life
All of which includes conflict, chaos, contradictions and confusion

Expected or unexpected
Surprised or shocked
Whatever happens in life and all that which goes on in one’s life
It is not possible that each and everything will get defined
Nor is it possible that everything will find it’s proper place, time and substance

The rigorous rigmarole through which all of us go it is nothing, but life.
So always give your best,
hope for nothing less,
but the best
while you leave the rest in the hands of God as life goes on in doing so.
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