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If our heart wishes to delete something/someone,
Our brain replay always
Agree or not?โœŒโ˜ฎ
Ken Pepiton Dec 2020
Do It Yourself
Act Inteleostical

aim at fame, take the blame
aim at shame, hide and watch

aim at games no mind can matter in,
hope to hell that you are right,

roll the bonesโ€ฆ

let the story form the world we agree upon,
stand, bipedally biased to lieve be
the balance factor in terms
of fear being a reason
to respond,
in one way, or another, knowing now

time is all together different than imagined,
not long ago,
on a little thinkโ€ฆ we know the journey story,
did we
really live so far from the center?
It seems so,
from where I stand, unembodied in another
reconnected to the story,
a book's worth of time, stretched to thinnistical
sparks we imagine having seen as signals slow
geo speed, Gaia mind, ****** - that
sensation of ever mattering
just now,
for a moment, then

now, again, similar but never the same,
riverish as any wish one tests
again, after ever has began
to play in the per-ifery.
Ifery is the enjoyable realm of right now. Time seems senseless. Peace feels like this, like a massive stone that roads and rivers and winds go around, or over, never under.
nick armbrister Apr 2019
Ship sails normally/million ton bulk carrier/aliens steal ship
empty seas Jan 2019
we have all had
bad days
worse days
where the straw breaks the camelโ€™s back
and we snap
and then we become an *******

i had my moment
a few months back
full of anxiety and repressed anger
i snapped
i was an *******
and i regret it

maybe they deserved it
but that doesnโ€™t matter
maybe I apologized
but that doesnโ€™t matter
i was a ****
plain and simple

but then i got better
a couple bad mistakes
donโ€™t make me a bad person
now i keep that moment close
but not enough to where it hurts

iโ€™m a better person now
and less of an *******
i had a bad incident, but iโ€™m not the same person i was at the time of it.
silvervi Dec 2018
Forgot how to poem
Forgot how to rhyme
Tryin to find ways
To express myself

My void on the inside
Doesn't leave me much
I can't really say how I feel
Can't really reach it or touch

Got some physical pain
Cause the body knows
When the emptiness within me
Grows and my soul hurts

All this vacuum is there for me to hide
What I feel so bad about and what I mind

I don't see it all but it is there
It's invisible but I am tryin to share
Feeling empty after a bad incident in my family. Trying to find ways to express this inner void. I know that eventually I'll find peace again and poetry always helps to speed up the recovery
O was there a lady
Her flight being late
Was she sitting steady
Cozy was it in that corner
Of the airport
Did she think of a sudden
Who would it be if something I bought
Not much
Hunted for a book
In the airport shops
A bag of cookies
In the props she bought
Now comfortable
She did sit
Down on a lounge
Looked at the airport clock
And started reading
Engrossed she was
Reading the book
As the minutes ticked by
Munching on the cookies
She bid a bye
To this world
Around her so mundane
Oh but not for long
What happened?
Oh a young man
Sitting beside her
On the next chair
Bold he was
Propped his hand
Into the bag
In between
And took hold
Of a 'mighty' cookie
She noticed it
But kept mum
To avoid a scene
At the aerodrome
As she read
And the minutes ticked by
In the clock
This gutsy thief
Diminished the stock
She couldn't bear it any more
For each cookie she took
He also took one for sure
Now was the time for the last one
Patiently was she waiting
To watch
The man took it
And broke it into half
And offered the half to
And the other half he took
As the time came
She had accepted the half
And she reached
For her luggage
And surprise!
In front of her eyes
Were her bag of cookies
She realized
It was not him
But her
Who munched
On his packet
Nor hers
After all
He was a young man
Trying to share!:-) :-) :-) :-)
Share and spread joy
And mischiefs
Sweet as honey
That bring a glow
And light of smiles
For being cared!
an incident took place
just yesterday
one met a troll
at the site's hostile bay
its verbalization was not
of pleasant greeting
some rather pointed
things said at the meeting

firstly it conveyed
the B---- term
on hearing that term
one did squirm
thence it proceeded
to tell one
in no uncertain terms
one should be turned
out to pasture
midst all the slugs
and worms

well its form of address
did of one not overly impress
and may one place on the record
one felt that one's
hot button got a press

trolling maybe amusing
for a troll
yet one didn't delight in its
unnecessary patrol

the trenchant troll
needs a fulltime occupation
which is more useful
to the writing population
Terry Collett Apr 2017
Millie stands by the wall staring at the coming and going of people along the passage where the grownups are. Her older twin sisters Anna and Bella stand together by the huge vases her father had brought back with him from one of his adventures. They hold hands dressed in the black and white pinafore dresses whispering to each other as they often did with their secrets and isolationism. Millie's younger sister Lisbet sits on the huge grey patterned carpet with her doll her long golden tresses over her shoulders. She too looks down the passage at the coming and going of the grown-up people their laughter and loud guffaws from the men. Millie has her hands behind her back fiddling with her white apron straps at the back. She is wearing the scarlet pinafore as her black one has become too small for her Nanny had said. The people along the passage have disappeared into the rooms and all is quiet again. Lisbet plays with her doll talking to it in her childish tones. Millie is glad the people have gone. She hates it when visitors come friends of her father's usually come to stay and talk and dine with the family downstairs while she and her sisters eat with Nanny in the nursery out of their sight. Anna and Bella giggle and walk off along the other passage towards the empty rooms where they can explore and pretend are rooms of magic. Lisbet gets up and walks off after them leaving Millie alone by the wall. She stares along the passage fearing one of the guests will venture down towards her and talk to her bending down to her as if they were giants or witches with their large faces painted with red lips and large eyes. She listens for them. She wishes her father never invited these people. She dislikes them being around as they disquiet her. A few months ago one of the guests a man tall and with dark piercing eyes and a close friend of her father's walked down to where she was and talked with her. Her sisters were elsewhere. Nanny was off for a few hours and in the nearby town. The man had offered Millie a selection of sweets and she had taken one shyly and unwrapped it and put it in her mouth. He seemed quite friendly and asked about the house and garden. She warmed to him as he seemed friendly and not snobbish like many of her father's friends. He asked if she could show him around the house and gardens. She said she would and felt important as if it was her house she was showing him. After a little while he went off and said thank you and went to his room along the guest's passage. Millie was just about to go along to the nursery when his door opened and he called her and asked if she would like to see his book of butterflies and also his case of butterflies he had caught. She smiled and said she would and entered his room. The room was larger than hers and her sisters' and had large window looking out on the gardens below. There were paintings on the walls of landscapes of places your father had been or wished to go some day. He closed the door after she had entered and went to get the book of butterflies and opened it for her and she sat on a two seater sofa by the wall. He spoke of the various butterflies and their colours and patterns. She listened willing to learn about them. Then he put a hand around her and drew her close to him. Her left arm was held between his body and hers. She felt bewildered. No one had embraced her like this before not even Nanny. He spoke on as if he was unaware of his actions unaware of her sense of unease. She wanted to get up and leave she couldn't his arms held her close to him. She lost interest in the butterflies. She just wanted to go. He looked at her and closed the book. He placed it by the side of the sofa. He said she was very pretty like a young princess and he kissed her cheek. She felt frightened now and wanted him to stop wanted for him to let her go. She stared ahead at the window opposite. Trees were waving in the afternoon breeze and birds flew across the sky. His hand had moved down her leg and his fingers touched her knees. Someone called her name. Millie the voice called. He removed his arm and hand and stood up and he smiled at her. She did not smile at him but searched him with her frightened eyes searching for words to say something but no words would come. He opened the door and put his head out of the doorway and called the maid who had been calling for Millie. The maid came and he talked to her and she curtsied and nodded her head and he told her he was showing Millie his book of butterflies which she had enjoyed. Millie said nothing. She left the room not looking back at him feeling undone feeling as if she had stepped into a dark place. The man left a few days later and Millie said nothing to anyone about him or what he had done. She couldn't sleep that night. She dreamed afterwards that he had come into her room and had touched her and she had screamed and Nanny came running in and had asked what was the matter. Millie said she had had a nightmare. She said nothing about the man. Anna and Bella come along the passage from the rooms hand in hand whispering and giggling. Lisbet follows dragging her doll by the arm along the floor and sits once more on the carpet playing and talking with the doll. Millie stares along the passage. The rooms are closed. The guests inside. Millie likes the silence. No one talks to her much now. She hasn't talked much since that day. She won't walk down the passage alone any more. She leans against the wall staring at the floor.
Mane Omsy Mar 2017
Fair to trust your covers
Trust worthy profiles, texts
Who knew the hidden tragedy
Judging a cover, the whole series
Let no troubles face till doom
This route is a little tough
Rough enough to move gently
Though I don't surrender
Buckle up even harder
Till the broken heart fixes
Its own way to empowerment
I seek revenge but I'll fail
Until then I'll have stories to tell
Lessons to spread and alert
Internet frauds are using other's profiles to cheat people and con them with easy measures. From my experience.
Breeze-Mist Dec 2016
I need to quiet my phone
the worry will drive me insane
The sound it makes in a room
Embarrasses me for no gain
In a large group, it's fine
No one can hear a thing to blame
but in a small group of my friends
I can't ever let it happen again
I really need to figure out how to quiet my phone down.
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