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to thunder, the pond swells
in summer, it diminishes
when its streams and brooks die
a thousand plants-
and a hundred fish-
rot and swelter in it

to rain, it lives and breathes
the ebb and flow of raindrops
when from its banks break
a thousand droplets-
a hundred streams-
blooms in its spirit

men wait not for the rain,
nor does he diminish in heat
in his soul contained to find,
a great typhoon-
angered by his passion,
calmed when he sulks

in each awaits catastrophe,
one as different, none the same-
all as fated to start as one
feel the wind, heat, and rain
feel it now, again and again
Nikkie Jan 2021
Shades of you blend into me like our spirits blending in
the bottom of the sea. We pass through each other like northern lights and touch the very essence of love.
I want the sun to shine in your honor; I want the moon
to copy your brightness. I see my future when I look into your eyes; you are everything I’d hope you’d be.
My beating heart, each breath I take, the twinkle in my eyes,
my pillow at night. Our spirits were born to unite together,
to dance in the beauty of inseparableness.

You’ve woven a hem inside my heart, that flows
love blood from your tender embrace. This is a
journey that no one takes but you. I’ve discovered a place that I am free; it’s inside of you that I’ve relinquished
my defenses, thus allowing your divinity to resuscitate
my will.

We blend together like an Indian Summer,
fitting perfectly together like hands in a glove.
A shade of you blends into me and colors my
heart, my mind, body, and soul.
With unforgiving nectar thick like honey, your
spirit alive is where I will stay.
Refined like sugar, shimmering like gold,
molding like clay on a hot summer's day.
-elixir- Jan 2021
I am writing my life,
amidst your strife
that thrives within you.
O ye who beget me, you never grew
from the miseries of the society,
as you are riddled with anxiety.
The myths of honor haunt you,
as you stop me from reaching the new.
The gilded cage you built,
is a prison for your guilt,
as you ****** my flight
even though I fight,
with my demons everyday.
Vehemently on my words, I stay.
Christian C Nov 2020
It seems a silly, foolish thing: obscure
abstracted expectations heeded sure.
However, comfort found or shred in thread,
defiance! Liberation for the dead
to overthrow, reject, deny decrees
imposed from fears that freedom means disease.
Because it chokes, barbed-wire laceration
began with shouts of divine damnation,
outpours a strangled, blood-laced river with
no end—laws unaware of gender’s myth.

To them, I am a thing one can acquire.
Behind eyes worn,  I tire— Oh! How I tire
of worth and value foisted most unjust.
Disgust conceals (reveals) clandestine lust;
they loved (and also often hated) me
for what I am and what I never will be.
I am the boy.
Descovia Dec 2020
In a rose, there is a matter,
of what we desire to resolve;
we can research on, but have no answer.


What is it? Inner beauty?
Of what we like to know;
inside is true and sweet;
like velvet silk of softness,
tender from the touch; like a
rose delicate petals.

Nevertheless, even though the points from
the stem are hurtful, if pricked.
The feeling of the petals and leafs
are fair enough to ease away
the pain.

What truly is inside is what cannot
be described.
It is what only you can see,
if you can believe inside.


Combining both, a beauty of a rose
and a heart in one,
you may see what really is inside
work is working maturity
work is working manhood
manhood work manhood to a maturity
manhood is a working maturity
maturity work maturity
maturity work manhood
manhood work manhood

mankind work mankind
mankind work humankind
moral work moral
moral work moral to mankind
moral is mankind working moral
moral is mankind working maturity
moral is mankind working manhood

honor is a working honor
honor is a working maturity
honor is a working moral
honor is a working manhood
mankind honor mankind to a working honor
mankind is humankind working honor
mankind is a working honor of mankind
my writing is called philosophical writing. i only uses middle ages words,words liked gracious,extravaganza,etc… this poem is about the factor of moral,the factor of maturity,and the factor of manhood. i don’t add capitalization’s on my writing.
Max Neumann Nov 2020
We eat shawarma and we share da pizza
afterwards partying, never alone on dat gig
meet a *** just to bang her wit my homez
me salutin' to carlos, yep, it's like dat:

he be spending some time behind bars now
ain't no biggie, we rely on da boyz
neva had nuttin' but now we ******' top-modelz
as maxwell argued: "open your mouth, i'm gonna ***"

watch, how we double our profitz...
da hottest gang under da sun
once bonez said:" man, we be stars quite soon!"
and each memba represented his part

he told me: "sit down and write barz"
cause dem gangsterrappaz mostly be phony
we no lelleks, i got men behind me
187 street gang, sampler number four
Check out the original version:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FbERoG3O-Us
Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2020
I prefer to have only one true friend than ten million frauds

To fall a million times than to never try at all

Rather lose with honor than win by breaking rules

Be hated for person I truly am that celebrated for a disguise

I pick reality over rose-hued ruses
I wish everyone felt this way
Nat Lipstadt Feb 2018
honor: “you stumble where gods get lost”

honor,

still the tattoo being drawn on my senses,
unresolved and demanding
solution or surrender,
acknowledging, that I am not poet enough

tho y’all keep diverting me with poem commissions,
half started but will freezer keep until Jacob’s angel and I
have wrestled this honor notion to the ground for good,
which means once and forever

Patti’s words distinctly heard:
“you stumble where gods get lost”
and that’s what the poetry is for,
to word wrestle until the resolution revelation shines
and someone cries out uncle, father, son, are we not all
samed and shamed when we wrestle with honor


will you know honor when it presents itself?

a man keeps his word and another honors them both
with a monthly sum that says friendship is a promise kept

a father texts to a son in trouble “got your back” that elicits
a return verse of “I love you;”. that’s love, not honor cause someone remembers their immigrant father’s hell going slowly by and this poem and that memory revived, that’s honor

(******* tears on my phone screen, a ****** pain @6:53am
on sabbath morn; no body invited the interlopers;  not me anyway)

honor is not a parade or not the kind on my mind today: the honor that gets you medaled that’s all about brotherhood,
that’s a different kind of honor I understand but not what I’m
about right wright write now

looking for small acts, small doses, nearly invisible to the naked
eye, indeed, ya need a scrunched up squint to detect the honor that I need so desperately seek to theorem proof that,
even I got some

one of you wrote me, I am nothing.
one of you wrote me,
that they are all busted up on the boulevard of broken dreams.

trusting a stranger thru his crazier poems with depreciation and overwhelming sadnesses,
is that honor?

my rsvp (how could I not), is that honor?

honor sought in the small necessities which are more important than small kindnesses wrought from love: those come easy natural

necessary necessity, the word itself bleeds pressure on the soul; but i don’t mean paying your bills, burying your parents and such stuff;


honor is in the unnecessary:  where actions defeat uncertainty, honor is stepping up when no one calls out need

honor is the first step the hand extended and the concomitant
electric shock that traverses two hands in a shake that obviates
unnecessary words
like thank you

which why gods stumble, get lost, they only get praise conferred
but honor belongs only to us humans,
to give honor.
that’s power gods don’t got,
why they oft get lost

so thank you for staying with me this far,
you honor me by listening to an old man
seizing up when his mind asks him direct

did you live with honor,
and tho the summing up s’ain’t over,
(lol laughing, at the ain’t autocorrect),
at least now I know what to count,
what counts,
doing the unnecessary unasked
in small ways, a quieter doing good,
honor needs two and starts when you say hey
hey you...


*7:36am Saturnday  2+10+18
Shabbat Shekalim
writ without disguise
Riley OHalloran Aug 2020
i want to be good enough
that other parents are impressed,
and i want to bring honor to you:
i want others to think highly of you.
i’m addicted to the feeling i get
when you say, “they were impressed by you.”
i want to be good enough
for you.
i know they use my faults to criticize you, so it is imperative that i have enough qualities to make this difficult.
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