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You make me fall in love alone all-day
But I was risen by the sun
I grow up with happiness and fun
When I fall in love again
I know the place I never get the pain
Every day you make me fall in love
By your beautiful shine
Staring at me
Until everything will be fine
Indonesia, 1st April 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
Broken Pieces Mar 31
My emotions are stable, at least they appear to be.
For some reason I feel as if it's still not me.
I keep telling myself I'm happy and I'm fine,
But am I really on that line?

Enough with the ******* rhyming nonsense,
I'm really not okay and this is my cry for help.
I want someone to save me but I don't know how,
Will someone come and take me away from this town?
Love flowed from him
Love flowed from her
Live in relation developed
His house in love fire was engulfed
They brought up a child
With time she turned wild
He approached the Hon'ble Court
Grant me divorce my lord
Are you both married
The judge asked
No Sir, It's a live in relationship
So where's the hurry to get rid of her
Let the things cool down
Then bring another of your choice
She will leave your house
Sir, I have many choices
She doesn't allow any enter my house
She has gone so wild
Pulls my hair day and night
You can see I have turned bald
So what I too have gone bald
So many ticklish cases have piled
I work overtime
My wife remains annoyed
I am afraid, I too may face divorce trial
Anyway your case doesn't come
under the ambit of divorce law
The judge announced
Divorce can't be granted
You may go to police for grievance redressal
If atrocities are enormous
I did go to the police
They threatened to put me behind the bars
On a **** charge
You could go to Women's Commission
I did that too, Sir
Members came to my house
They blackened my face and changed my race
I am sorry, I can't help you
Go to politicians
Get a legislation on live in relation passed to make a law
Or you first marry your ''UNWIFE" to make her wife
Then you may bring fresh case for divorce
Your case is dismissed with costs to your UNWIFE
Besides a fine of Rs Fifty Thousand only for wasting this court's valuable time!
Strying Mar 22
dripping on my page
I can't take this pain
my eyes blur
I can't even see the page anymore
and the writing is doubled unrecognizable lines

I want to disappear.

It's easier for me
to die
than to try

but every time someone asks me if I'm fine,
I lie.
im sad
so ******* sad
i literally say i want to die in front of my parents
it seems like no one cares
or if they do, i never say anything and they dont push hard enough to get me to open up.
Ken Pepiton Mar 6
time seems to pass
in spurts.
some days take for ever,
others are infinite from the start.
Rules and reasons for commas and
periods where entire thoughts screech….
to a crash, hit the wall
and bounce
ellipsis-missed stuttering futures all flash
in a wink,
we think
better to wander among lines integral to life,
than those that tie our hearts to the lie,
the big one, thou shalt not
die. A subtle metaphor for ceasing to be
all you think,
in your core, where courage faces curiosity
by way of the oddly bent nerve carrying
intention to a tongue…

say, hey
the idea of anti-locks, for slowing the selahity--
ABS- fixes that --
those locked-up brakes scenes, in dreams
where you are about to hit the wall,
these days those are
set in the genes, like falling from trees,
you notice,
you never hit the surface.
You always wake in a nearly identical reality,
as when you last passed from awake and aware,
sleep, maybe with dreams, as it seems
there is no total recall, after.

Today we face the future, again
we imagine we
know many common things that everybody
knows, as bodies are
by nature, complicated things. More
complex than reason allows, thus

the urge
to slow the motion imagined, scrunch
each sphincter on the chakra ladder …
jah, wu wu, come up here, bunkuum bi yall,
be a me and thee, hooked to a book
swallowed whole,
when it ought to have been chewed real,
all your life, cha cha cha;
you been thinking this is how if feels, if, yes,
to be just right.
Just fine, thank you.
Fine, technical granularity in the meta data
of life, arranged in time and chance
to dance in an idea all minds name beauty,
poetry and song,
all flow into the lowest valley
where, today, we wake and
find a slew of beautiful ideas malingering,
I say I
that ain't so. The pond where those old knowns
were settled has dried,
due to the dams, but we can look up river
along the meandering course all flows carve.

We can find where those bemired beautiful thoughts
sprang from the first fully myelinated frontal cortex,
capable of gramary. Enchantmental
{magic-tech intuitive spelchek}
hexes and spells that repeat the effect
in gestures and words, once known
to have made axe heads float,
and fishes to multiply,
and vast armies to die at the river,
laying down sword and shield,
shrugging off the mantle,
leaving Sisyphus to keep things rolling,
whole armies, flags to bedraggled ******
in the rereward, muttering incanticles,
we have over come,
we have reached beyond the grasp
of all our knowers,
yet they lie, for a living, to live in the lie.
Knowers who settle
in a slew of beautiful ideas,
un beknownst to them, the misery of e
spiritualized truth, sealed in idle words,
deemed good for nothing
until these days,
this day, perhaps your first
of waking with one, only, uno, uni
verse as long as life,
per se.

As we ramble on, branching,
ever, where the pressure within pierces
the field opposing…
am I worth as a word writer compared
with Coleridge' the addict,
whose story lacked the wonderings of Cain-
Wordsworth, lacked the knack,
of knowing Cain,
murderer in the first instance, ere degrees
had words to make sense of them.
Not knowing the story,
the idea
left these novice evil thinking boys snared
by a musement of the classical
spiritual sort, either real
or fantasy, we call it
art, intuitively being attractive
to the curiosity
living in the knowing being -- you know,
you say you
tasted the Son and knew at once,
in a word holds truth in a way,
we feel
touching each chakra, if you stop to feel,
each valve clampt to hold the surge,
urging up up up to
fill the face with bright acknowledgement,
acting as known in a whatifery sense,
tasted, felt, not seen not heard in words
roger, acknowledgment sent.
ditty dum.
Free verse is worse than what,
would you say? Given a will that is wild
by nature, as you imagine nature
being, a force in physics that goes bio,
then logical,
lives on as long as any knower wishes to know.
- Crime of the mariner?
he shot the albatross for the reason…
I can, I did not know of the link
to generations in the morrow,
twixt the twisted
real real alone alone as though a spell,
seeps from the story,
held with glittering eye, strange pow'r of speech
I know the man that hears me,
You know as well.


Time loops and worm holes,
time and again
the story follows plot to points we knew were
coming soon,
end of
all that was, then
this is new, reset, next level, literal game of life.

Grown out of all the dung counted
worth the recollection.
Yea doubtless,
and I count all things
but loss
for the excellency
of the knowledge
of Christ Jesus my Lord:
for whom I have suffered the loss
of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ

Wait a minute. that was a quote. "Winning" Christ is where
I draw the line…
tell me, if I know the truth, and the affect is liberty,
that is excellent knowledge,
Paul and I agree,
but what's to win, bro? Where is winning done, once
the destroyers works were destroyed?

That is the story under the headline of the ages,
It is finished, say witnesses at the event.
The Gospel is back, set in second coming Times Roman.
We won, peace on earth, good will to all who
take the grace as granted and ask what good can now be done.
We won, said the anonymous peacemaker.
We used the knowledge of good and evil, through deep
simple conditioning, over eons,
augmenting mental effort here and there with a genius off
the charts
measurable in minds that imagine infinity is impossible.

In the early 1980s, Nobel laureate Paul Dirac
told Princeton University theorist Ed Witten
that the most important challenge in physics was
“to get rid of infinity.” 

From <>

-- Disneyifity, wishery wu, to infinity and beyond

New times, new tropes, lose  slay-the-dragon,
loose distribute-the-hoard, hope to shout,
it all works out, and Jesus
fixes every thing…
soon. Soon. Many sons, wombed and un, no diff.
on earth as in heaven… always answered,
nicht wahr? Immer so, amen.

Or is ask and ye shall receive,
speaking of the signal to reset your mind.
To get past infinity as a physical problem
that mortals must solve.
But what will happen to our craft?,
hear the institution groan.
What in deed, February 2021.
That passed and you barely noticed.
Not much changed among the Promise Keepers
crop of Christian Warriors marching,
as to war, with carnal weapons at the ready.

Now, as you may see, on TV, is the time to sow,
seed faith, {prove me now, pay and pray}
Yes -
All the riches to the glory of God,
building the Kingdom Now, for a while,
as it built the fabled Oral Roberts Disciples Network
of Kenneth Hagen clones clad in Lutheran sheepskins,
hiding scapula knit from Iberian goats
whose hair, twisted to itchy yarn,
made the shirt of several martyrs,
for whom towns and universities are named.
Such secret scapula
remind the faithful, fame is worth any price,
pre-pay shorten your stay,
and now functions as advertised to envoke
itching to die for a try to win Christ,
by killing the enemy we love,
for Jesus… who
sent {SYTF} the comforter, to soothe the itch,
to break the bubble shaped like a tetrahedron,
for some phosphoric oomph, spilling
the golden oil -similar to the effect Aaron felt
poured on his head, dripping from the corners of his beard.

{there is legend of a prayer:
Abba forgive those who know not what they do,
I confess there was a flaw in the nature of man,
I came to fix it, and I did. Amen}

Bless me, must I know the meaning
of every thing I ever say?
Is there no easy way?

Look up. Yes, anything you wish to know,
seek and find, weigh with care,
find the measure of this to that, eventually all
leads to ever, but not hell.
Actual consciousness faints long before hell
is realer than men have made punishment.
Cancel this variable with that probable, consider-ate
conscience, desider-ate desciency in constancy
- set the standard at good -
C is something other than imagined, thus
at Feynman's suggestion we swept infinity
under the rug.

Knowing all things,
It'll blow your mind.
Unsafe at any speed, be lief is the re lief…
bileave, one source claims is a noun, not an act,
a state of mind, bounded by
"confidence reposed in a person or thing;
faith in a religion…"
{granularity of substance assumed}
We can hope.
But that's after all sorts of lies have come to life
as institutions to shelter the meek from the greedy,
who then must wear this dread atop-- your's, yes
your head, wears the dread subjecting
all you know to ******* in service
of the Authorized Truth;
remember hell is as real as any place you may imagine,
given years of proper education
in the liturgy of survival
during next.
---------- seal it.
{Same yesterday, today and ever after - forever
is so ambiguous- }

Gnathite seaton, right - that means
bug lips, no I was thinking Know thyself
in Latin or something
aca-deme-ware-ish, to push a button on
the whole truth
and nothing but - beginning as  belief released
as an act of will,
accepted that in this bubble
each emotion has
cause and stands accussed,
with a touch of pride
to expand the contention confidence and convening
soothing the rippling surface on the ocean of opinions
'pon which we bob
up and down.

Bait-taken signal to pull back on the tug,
set the hook,
feel the yelp and then the anger, of a fish
I wish
were that magic one, I never really caught.

-- I laugh, in disbelief, relieved of lying metaphors,
miss-labeled cans of worms from experiences
not common in unalienated minds.



In the realm of recommending AI,
the pro
stitutes told the institutes ***
sells and sells and sells, but smack holds
their loyalty, violence
givem hell,
makem pay seven times seventy,
each child a slayer of his ten thousands,
-watcher set-
pay attention to the empath,
watch it cringe,
something words fail to convey, temptation
to defy a lie locking ignorance in place,
never wishing
to know all things
to prove a prophecy, such,
is only tempting if time is a factor
in the dis
cussing of certain concepts regarding the after effect
of an anointing on a lynching,
after a drowning,
and a burning while all the people sang na na
nawnaw nananana

and when the battle's over, we had lost the edge,
- contention comes from pride, and
- winners is proud, such pride has offspring
- messin' wit'cha mind… win Christ, for dung…

Covid binging
the point, but after all,
we are here and all who opposed us
now enforce the worth of words
to the wise.
It is written. So it is.
Consider a self, rich and sorrowless.
Be that a bit.
Gramary is magic, Psyche is spiritual, at best.
Ach, Scheiz, not Grammerly, no, but a segue
I just did a product placement
for one of Spelchek's kids.
Gramery is spells and hexes in letters and signs…

And on TV is Osiris and Isit… bait for next
An amusement ride, not a catechism...
Quinn Adaire Feb 16
F-flippantly finding four friends of mine praying
I-in cages bound wrists floundered hopelessness
N-nevertheless, the day after was flaying
E-everything, it was changing, don’t worry, I’m fine.
daphne Feb 13
i chew on the shards
of my broken heart
wearing out my enamels
bleeding out my gums
devouring the pain
slitting down my throat
you tower over keenly
i craned my neck beaming
doubtful eyes swept over
discoloured lips
crimson stained teeth
but a smile is flattering
so please don't fret
you can trust me
i am fine i am okay
the pain no longer fazes me
Sarah Flynn Feb 2
I swear
I don't drink

but it's 2:19am and
I'm ******* wasted.

I swear
I've been clean

but please don't
pull up my sleeves.

I swear
I take my meds

but don't look
in the trashcan.

I swear
I'm fine

but do you really
still believe me?
dailythoughts Jan 25
last night we were more than fine
i drank an entire bottle of wine
thinking about the crime
on the offence of having today without you by my side

baby don’t just turn your face away from me
now that you are my source of sanity
i need you even more than last night
give us a chance to be
an almost
We are linked with the hope of yesterday.
Like hearing noises filled with decay.
I still embraced us, only to find us in dismay.
Why must your trust be always in display?

Having enough of you is all I wanted.
But created only you wanting more of what lasted.

As the twilight sets in, I only see what's ahead.
Lines breaking, thoughts wrecking, grieve pressing.
You, and only you should know that you are missing.

I may not be for you, but in time you will see.
that an Impostor will steal from what you guarantee.

Should you find this, I hope that the ink filled in this page reaches you in time.
Like a light giving brightness to the unsure tomorrow.
Know that you will be fine.
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