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I'm sorry we feel the way I do,
I'm analysing my own words before my mind can speak,
I stutter odd syllables trying to spell out the sounds,
I'm a child that grew up to fast in a world of beautiful souls and crazy minds,
I read about losing battles and write about crazy rambles,
I remember how I felt...
I read about losing battles and write about crazy rambles,
But I forget what I should feel now,
Advanced theories claim the inevitable,
Old theories claim one source,
I'm not really sure what we are talking about,I'm sure you get the idea,
Just reject conscious thought,
Maybe pet a cat,
Losing ones self is the first step to finding ones self,
This has become self therapy so stick with me,
The nowhere man is waiting for orders,
For we can not think of one's to give,
Eat, sleep, repeat,
One of the many cycles that have stayed so shall another that has proved useful to me,
Read. write. read. Death
Don't be mistaken they are all endings,
With guidance that should make the knowing easier,
What rivers will converge?
I'd like to ask a favor of my fellow reader,
Think of a words you see on hello poetry that tend to repeat, post them to this wall, or message me, but if like to make a poem out of repetition. Thanks and enjoy.
Mane Omsy Dec 2016
Step with the rhythm you made
The daffodils are still dancing
With a flow, deep rays in between
Through the leaves landing on you
And blows, forcing the past to fade

I'll remember you, I'll be in you
But I can't force them to discontinue
They are strong, dumb sculptures
Yet, ready to put misery on you
To end, and test their ordeals on you

Rise, Oh, the empire of protectors
Mother, brighten the wild with intellect
They will reconquer and set the pace
Where never, we expected peace
Will enlighten on her shoulders
Hold together to protect nature
KB Nov 2016
I am what you’re alive for, and I’ll let you start over,
And over again, before the last chance you have is done.
My name is life; though it’s not always fun.
I live in your veins and breathe in your heart,
My name is passion, and I am very smart.
You were born to use me,
To live by me,
And to inhale and exhale me.
My name is love.
You can’t run away from passion, life, or love
But this might inspire you to bring out what’s underneath to above,
To let your inner Van Gogh out or maybe, just your soul.
Pleasing anything and everything but you,
They made it your ultimate life goal.
You may still think that’s exactly what you want.
Engineers, lawyers, doctors with crazy fonts.
But you come to think that maybe that’s not for everyone…
And for that, they all make fun.
But maybe, you’re good for something that doesn’t need you
To memorize formulas, letters, numbers, symbols alike, it’s true!
Maybe you, need to be memorizing shapes, lines, colours, and words that rhyme.
Despite the way no one else has your kind of flow, it isn’t a crime.
Don’t worry about judges or surgeons, with their fancy titles and big pay,
They have their own light, their own great ways.
If you’re better with a paintbrush, then stroke away, or splash, or stipple.
Anything to show them that art is not that simple.
Its takes courage to speak out what the world craves to be said,
If one doesn’t write books or poems, there’s nothing that will be left to be read,
And children rely on stories, it’s what keeps them innocent.
It also keeps the rest of us wide awake and vigilant.
So the world bursts at the seams,
With people aching to fulfill their vibrant dreams,
Of being the ones who can finally fly; oh so very high.
The world is bursting at the seams,
With people craving to feel the colours in ungrouped teams,
That pop and crackle and spark when touched.
Turn into stardust and glitter but in the hands, are tightly clutched.
But there might be a need of people,
Who love dandelions more than roses,
Who stand strong, even as every door closes.
Who play with ice rather than fire,
Who from their risk takings, would never retire.
And who rather they feel the softness of the sand
When the wind blows it around on the beach in their hands,
Than the blankets that they sleep on.
Who look to clean the chessboard of their enemy’s pawns.
But what we see is mainly what we hope to find,
And if we look at life with love we can find it to be amiable and kind,
One can achieve their goals if they let go of the headaches for a second.
Impossibilities should never be counted, thought of, or reckoned.
So breathe; you don’t have much left of your fast travelling time line.
Recite; you don’t have much air left but your voice is just so fine.
Write and your fingertips will never stop screaming,
Just like if you run, you will never stop beaming,
Never hitting the pavement with the steps of wraith.
And if you can feel... then you will always keep close faith.
You have not badly slipped, or played the wrong note.
Because even in the midst of beautiful gardens,
Weeds were never remote.
And then you walk through the streets of love.
Hand in hand with a culture fitting you like a glove,
As the smoke draws you in a feeling not unfit;
Feelings your heart clenches; at least you can hold it.
Some have lost this rare, valued treasure,
In the waters of functions and formulas, always measured.
So never swim with them if you are one to tight line,
At the end of your life you can say, “This life is mine.”
Always one to dream, never one to follow
Never let them tell you the mind is hollow
Always experiment, don’t be the child of a shadow.
And they put art at the lowest hierarchies,
Displacing the solution to locks on creativity.
Saying art is nothing but they don’t know where we’d be
Had shapes not evolved and paintbrushes never
Met paint and gave birth to an image you can see.
That you mixed and threw together, you’re clever,
No canvas should ever be empty,
Odd reasons say still… there are plenty.
And only an artist can solve that problem.
Breathing life into objects, one can make into an emblem.
So now what you do without math, science, or neither?
Yeh… I wouldn’t give up either.
Sam Oct 2016
Decisions.
Deciding who you are,
what you're life will be.

Experimenting.
Something you are allowed to do,
to figure out who you are,

but don't drag anyone else into it.
*I am not here to be experimented with.
You! The center of solar system, main source energy of living and non-living, consumed great heat, considered the brightest of all stars, I summon not you but your power. As the earth rotates and revolves around you, dividing night and day, in the land where your light casts on the east, showing its glory, I implore you - shed not just your light but also your heat. Hearing me pleading you, your eyebrows if you have will surely raise for my sudden approach, as the rooster clucks, in the air so still and wet. But you, from afar we can feel you, even to the moon you have shared yourself, wondering why I called in this time. Though at times I question, your high presence makes trees go dry and land quench for water, but this time, my lips continuously utter, as I work with my clothes in bubbling water, running for the clock, oh great Sun, listen to me. Let no cloud shed a little tear, show who’s the most powerful, our Sun, I invoke you, for no machine can please my clothes, and air cannot do any better. Cooperate with the wind, cast the clouds that hinders you, reveal your shining glory, and may my clothes experience your majesty.
feel free to critic :)
Cheyenne Aug 2016
typically "typical"
is thought predictable
where typical types
emerge in the syllables

man = white = *******! = no ****, right?
girl = cis = delicate ≠ this.

type up the typology
categorize into "ologies"
start stereotyping
to support the philosophies

f(i) = she = sweet ≠ me
∴ ***** i must be

draw a box around me ⇒ i'll fit
type up a label ⇒ it'll stick

but ≠ me
      = us = we
is that the type of person
you want to be?
experimenting with my poetry structure a little
complexify Jul 2016
I closed my eyes
Thinking about things.

I let my feelings flow their way

Into the palace of sunny day
And into the hues of grey.

Through the darkness I swim
Straight into the river of grim.

Sometimes I hear a melody
Trying to drain me.

"Come, come, come to me."
"Come closer, we'll set you free."

They wanted me to stay
But nah, they cannot touch me during the day.

Indeed I meet demons on my journey
And also angels guarding doors.
But I find it kinda funny
When I saw you on the shore.

I thought to myself
"*******, I thought I freed."
You're like one of the final bosses of video games
That I've already killed.

I'm just a poetic gamer
Pretty sure I'm not the first.
What do you expect
A poem with blue skies and endless universe?

Maybe, but not this time.

And so I recited a cryptic verse
And watch you burn within my curse.
Experimenting. :)
Aaron LaLux Jul 2016
ElectroShock Therapy


Minor doses of,
electroshock therapy,
typing on a keyboard,
hysterically,

my fingers hurt,
numb could just fall off,
but I keep writing and writing and writing,
applause of,
the crowd,
passively observing,
as I twitch from the EMFs,
that hit in micro-doses that they’re serving,

constructing scripts,
at a pace that’s constant,
do what you feel is real,
because the rest is just nonsense,

on then,

on with the show,
tribal techno,
rapid slow mo,
ready or not here we go…

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

Volume 1
The H Trilogy
I just published a new book.
If you could take a moment to check it out,
and even write a review it'd be most appreciated.
Profits go to preventing ****** assault against children.
So not only are you getting an epic book of poetry,
but you're also supporting a good cause.
Thank you SO much!

Here are the links for my new book:
www.amazon.com/dp/B01I4621OE
www.amazon.com/dp/B01I462OE
Dustin Dean Jul 2016
Hormonal intake from your needle has begun the effects
I can feel the veins plague my many necks
After crashing through walls without any direction
The doctor straps me down and gives me another injection

I lay and wonder what will happen next
I feel the shortening of my many necks
The veins are disappearing along with my vitality
I soon face the harsh reality of mortality
June 2009
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