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larni 1d
if you are going to fall in love with me,
you must know that i cry. a lot.

i cry during rainy days, sunny days, or on a monday morning.
i cry everytime i watch a happy movie and everytime i cut onions,
but do know that i cry harder every time i talk about the things that have hurt me, even if they don’t hurt anymore.

i need constant reassurance.
for i am afraid of being left behind, of being unloved.
i will probably tell you all the things i hate about myself
while you disagree with each one of them
but i still won’t believe every single word you’ll say.

i got used to shutting down the people who care about me.
it will be so hard for me to open up,
but all i’m asking you is to stay patient, and give me time to adjust.
you might think i’m rejecting your company,
but don’t blame yourself, i appreciate you.

so listen, if you are going to fall in love with me,
understand that i’ve been through the worst,
but still, i’ll love every inch of your skin unconditionally.
Bottom of the stack,
first shall be last

each line has the potential to lead on, read on

confer, compare parallel ports pulsing in
synchronisity

goodness knows wrong ain't ever right,
nevermind whys and hows when
nows calling you by kind
ask attention
still

reader
read this, you are the few,
other than me, I know you allone,
Dear Reader, whose name you alone
may now know

in your one
integrated, tooled-up, read-up, curious
and curioser
self.
---
words hold whole thoughts in harness,
letters let them live,
writers make them work,

poets pay them mind to find reason and
metre in the spiral of knowing
growing steadily meeker
as peacemakers take

the call as op
portunate,
fortunate. Good for goodness sake and
no measurer yet devised,
no witty invention,

can make you listen to patterns
scattered in the noise,

still,
time keeps its steady pace, irreversible.

all parallel paths cross mine, eventual.

vente vide vince but (vente was the size
of my coffee, I think) I think,

history waves a banner, see

it says many wrongs
did not come
past last lie believer ceiving a source

of knowns unknown re

making, fect per effect ual, right,

the basic idea.
You have need of patience,

curios and kachina songs and liter
ary urges from words

once stuffed with meaning, right, like
each word is a clay jar,
a vessel for a thought spoken right,

as my servant, my re
feree confounding my accuser for ever,

in a word. Hide and watch, or sing and shout.

The basic idea claims any word may be redeemed,
but the utterer must give account for every idle word.

The house-dweller,
the non-nomad, who labors,
who efforts,
who sweats and frets and fusses over seed
sown in history
must first partake the fruit.
Not ever must an idle word be

let alone to fester in rot for lack of
a taster to test the truth,
a darer
of daemonic algorythms pulling

the very air, air, atmostfear away oh,

see,
the arctic ice is adapted to by the
basic idea that things survive
as life lives, within the
field named
HIggs,
worms hold out promises

see,
the arctic ice is the scab being
ingested slowww glacial slow, soon

weather will find the pattern.

All things work right,
nothing works wrong.

--
Lemme say,
for a while, as defined by mortals,

we taught. We words took no other pose,
played no role save to hold
ideas taken by men to serve a human plan.

'Sup.
That quest ion. How ahye? serves as well, but

Sup says more. What is up? op
positive to down, related to spins named
charming and strange for reason

known to a very few.
Some where in there, is a base, a standing place for idle words to plead a purpose sufficient unto the evil of the day. Any idle word, fittly spoken, can be as "apples of gold in pitchers of silver, or is that pictures of silve?
Plants are patient
Waiting for just the right time to sprout
The slightest misjudgment on their part could mean death
So they will wait as seeds for years
Hiding beneath the tall oaks
Hoping one day they will have the chance to kiss the sun's sweet rays
as their elder's looming above them do
 
Plants are strong
As people massacre them for food or for their flashy reproductive organs
But they will come back
Even though they know they will be cut down again
 
Plants are kind
Giving themselves to help all others
Blooming beautifully for the bees
Cleaning corrupted air
Giving back to the soil when they die
 
Someday
I hope to be like a plant
I hope to be patient in life
Waiting for the right time
I hope to be strong
To grow back even when I know ill be cut down again
I hope to be kind
To give love to everything and everyone
Aléa Boodoo Jan 29
The wait.
Is what I hate.
Do I go or not?
One or four fruit?
Quick! Before they all rot.
“Wait”, he says. “Wait”, she says.
But my patience is eaten by fear.
It doesn’t make any sense. Every nerve is tense.
Tell me the end is near.
When the end arrives, has my end only begun?
An end to the boring wait, but the end to my fun?
Stop being indecisive. Stop with the “I don’t know”.
Determines if in the end I do live. It’s not a way for me to live.
Tell me all your thoughts and feelings. And in return, my emotions will show.
Make it end! Make it start! Even if I have to change.
Tell me if we end up together or apart.
For you, what do I have to exchange?
My heart?
Friends.
The end has come. It’s no longer near.
Did I get what we wanted? Or what I deserve?
At this point, I honestly don’t care.
The wait.
Is what I hate.
But if it means getting you back...start it over my dear.
One or four fruit? As I sit in the waiting chair.
Ive
Dominique R Jan 8
Why are we still here?
Scratching and pulling at your skin
Trying to find the answers in your silent stares and unspoken phrases
I am tired of wrestling with it so I just push it aside
Hoping to hide the discontent I feel
And the anger bubbling up inside
Too tired to beg for it anymore
Too ignorant to understand
I am sitting in a waiting room while the clock laughs at me
Mocking my helpless state
Hopeless but still waiting
This is how I will always remain
Even when I am long gone
My bones scattered in that waiting room
Hopeless but still waiting
elle Jan 5
it seeps
under my fingernails into skin
doused in clean! the filth is killed!
then I spit at it.

Demands:

caress my brow in a palm, any warm pocket of flesh
a grandmother’s *****
the spine of a leaf
my dog’s velvet-soft triangle-shaped ear
anything that will let my grief get some rest

sorrow is heavy trash bag to haul

find me a bellhop or a sidewalk construction man
something with biceps and a hardened face. someone who can clean **** up.

please,
sweep
these shards could maim a bystander
         why force one to bleed such an unnecessary truth
wouldn't want to wreck these shiny floors

better to keep it hid, better tighten my lips around it
I mean,
how do -you- feel under these fluorescent lights?
who is studying who?

I understand now my circus of an existence was born
in a tight space
between the exhausted description of my histories
-the official ones- and

these secrets,
the juicy stuff
      
encrypted in me
Daniel H Shulman Dec 2018
Impatient I found a love worth the wait,
Knowing lost love does not mean love is lost,
Heartbreak was just a detour to my fate,
Where all of love’s mistakes were worth the cost.

I waited to find love in full despair,
That hopelessness contrasts with love so sweet,
I missed the point when I thought life unfair,
I had to be prepared for us to meet.

Your love is what I dreamt that love would be,
Looking back my deep sadness seems so small,
Perhaps you too were waiting just for me,
Finally we found true love after all.

Patience had worn thin from each rejection,
Then you came along with love’s perfection.
Instagram @insightshurt
Blogging at www.insightshurt.com
Buy “Insights Hurt: Bringing Healing Thoughts To Life” at store.bookbaby.com/book/insights-hurt
Nancy Maxwell Dec 2018
Often I wonder which is harder
'Singleness or Marriage'
How do we do it?
The struggles of being with someone and remain purified sexually
The focus we must attain in this manner
The mindset of suppressing **** and passion
Remaining without touch till the set time
Our partners how they seemingly accept the challenge but later deviate;
With talks like ‘am only human’.
How we look innocent but crave deep down for a tiny piece
The chain of celibacy a slavery we were made to follow
Or else anguish and chastising
Am broken and torn
The lessons I learnt I hold dearly
Corinthians stated worries
Oh my fate!
When whilst thou end, this status I cross around my neck
Wait! but don’t look waiting
The side talks and jest, the respect long lost
Yours will be the latest I know
Happen already!
Wait on God permanent anthems now
Smile and wave don’t show it
Or you are jealous.
Be happy and suppress
Be hopeful and pray
For how long!
Be patient, kind,
God’s time is the best
Oh when!
It’s been 3 decades and counting
No judging authority
I only want to be loved
Now I live for myself alone no deviation from love and service
I will do not just right but the right way
With God before me.
This poem is centered on the travails of singlehood, marriage is considered preferable sweet, the holiest and perfect tag also everyone's dream and singleness the No game, unwanted and some sort of plague everyone is running away from.
Day Nov 2018
Please forgive my silence.

I don't know where to start.

My voice cannot provide
the volume of my heart.
- as in mute
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