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Devin Ortiz Jul 2018
Consequence is the Heart of Belief.
Whether a Truth .
Whether a Falsehood.
Whether Virtuous.
Whether Vice.
Conviction alters Reality.

Human existence is a stream of consequence.
Flowing through ebbs of Right and Wrong.
Of Heavy currents of deceit, which overflow the banks.
And pools of Stillness, in stagnant paradigms.

This Race of Fact and Fiction rampages.
The Powerful and the Hungry.
The Weak and the Proud.
All caught in the Tides of Creed.
An Undertow which swallows all.
Indiscriminate in its Finality.
E over c2 Jul 2018
let me lay down some facts

fact is; the minute before i meet you i still get butterflies.
every photo of you that you send makes the whole world quiet
you made me pick up my guitar again
you made want to pick up the microphone again
the violin
to sit down at the piano and learn.
you made me want to be better not only for myself, but for you.

fact is; the smell of your hair can send me to sleep
the sight of your eyes can make the floor seem steep
i'm falling.
the touch from your hands set me on fire
the taste from your lips like sweet oxygen brings me back to life
as if for the moments before, i wasnt really alive.
the sound of your voice makes everyone else's fade away...

fact is; your laugh
oh my dear girl your laugh....
makes me smile like angels are singing.
and your cry
makes my arms automatically fall open
aching for you to be within them
because darling within them
no one can hurt you
no one can touch you
and everything is okay.

fact is; you taught me that i can trust again
you taught me what making love means
truly means.
because in the winter we learnt what it means together
and i wouldn't of had it any other way.

fact is; i cant stand the thought of you being hurt.
so i ask when i seem too persistent or annoying when asking you
it's only because i care.

fact is; when it feels like no ones out there
when it feels like the world is too big to handle
i promise you i'm still here
i promise you i'll hold your hand
i promise you that everything will be alright
because i care.
because i will do anything to make sure you're safe.

fact is;

...you're the first and last thing i think about in the day.
if my pillows could read minds
my bedsheets would be covered in your name.

fact is;

I love you.


and i just thought maybe you needed reminding of that.
Maxim Keyfman Jul 2018
I walk every day like in the desert
I do not know what for
for whom and for what purpose
my existence

I walk every day like in the desert
in search of some answer
in search of some kind of truth
which in fact is not present

I walk every day like in the desert
bright sun beats me
cold of Russian frosts ****
but I'm going and I don't know why


02.04.18
Jabin Jul 2018
Sky, blue
Earth, old
True, true
No, no.
Attributed To Concerned parents
of Traumatized Refugee
Dear Fred and Mary Anne MacLeod Trump...

Posthumous belated tattered letter fragment
recently discovered (liberally sprinkled with
hyperbole (presumed for greater audacious
zealousness), sans accidentally acquired
by yours truly.

Miscellaneous personal item highly valued
when thwarted from auctioneer, whose gently
persuasion collectible merchandise requisitioned,
thence keepsake property perfunctory mandatorily forfeited.

Due compensation from sole male heir (me),
whose long since (resting in eternal
peace) papa suffered degradation,
humiliation and understandable lamentation
as a kid living in Flatbush.

Authorities and expert legal scholars
pieced together what probably comprised
a lengthy epistle rivaling the Epic of
Gilgamesh).

Recollection recounted torturous,
malicious, and flagitious mean spiritedness
visited upon the ambitious, cadaverous, and
timorous body electric high-jinxed introverted male,
whose abstemious, conscientious, and nutritious
dietary regime, could not forestall rigor mortis.

A postscript (purportedly penned prior to
once philosophical pensive poet's papa's passing)
stated that said personage felt bitterness,
disharmonious envious self loathing.

That grownup man known as mine father,
though once upon a time, said recently
anonymous deceased old fogey ironically
registered as an atrocious, cantankerous,
and egregious deplorable high school student.

Also, the author of what constitutes partial
opprobrious litany attests during his
idolatrous, notorious, and semiconscious
Arab zombie school daze.

He ranked as de facto semiprecious,
tremulous and unanimous scapegoat
bullied by a bumptious, callous,
disputatious hippopotamus of a brat
infamous bruiser later in his life to become
forty fifth president of UnIted States.

Though documentation incomplete, the un
named subject referred within torn shred
recovered included signatory couching
ambiguous references to a tenebrous,
unscrupulous, and vicious ******* initials.

Dee Tee quickly intuitively assessed
as one inhumane specimen, whose pugnacious,
pretentious, and pestiferous, persona characterized
impetuous, adulterous apprenticeship appetite
for erecting ******* skyscrapers.

This once pacific pilloried pupil, whose grown
son (myself), now recalls father's misty eyed
anecdotes dripping with acrimonious, curmudgeonly
grouchy, grizzly and crotchety old sorries,
viz refashioned abominable kamikaze
psychological sorties.

I can vividly recall (how painful unto his old age)
oft daddy's repeated quotidian taunts, whereby
that bad ***, acidulous, avaricious, contemptuous,
enormous, and grievous big boy trumpeting
bruiser exuded devious, heinous, libelous, and
parsimonious tightwad, though born into wealth.
Aihara May 2018
I'm not afraid to walk alone
Even though
its undeniably lonely.
But
I gotta keep moving
took me years to realised I'm such a sensitive person but Im proud of myself. I might tear up over the little things people did, good or bad but that doesn't make me weak. I can fight whenever needed and my equanimity is something worth vaunting about.
John AD Mar 2018
Why?

They keep leaving me,Because I'm sick
They always leave me,Because I'm Afraid to speak
They always leave me,Because I can't straighten the fact
They always leave me,Because I don't have the luck

They keep leaving me,and it makes me sad
They always leave me,the tears of a lad
They always leave me,things became pretty bad
They always leave me,I need a hug

Why do they always leave me with more questions?
In my mind, that keeps telling me that I'm a different person
Back from the past it's too late now to make this decision
I should sleep all day long and talk to my friends in my own imagination
I need someone to understand me
Keerthi Kishor Feb 2018
The world is full of beautiful things.
Like You, Me and
that one song from our playlist
that we haven't have played yet.
"Go ahead and play that song. That song deserves to be played."
V Dec 2017
We all are born being vulnerable.
We all live being vulnerable.
And we all die being vulnerable.
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