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I need to Blur what I've Pictured
To focus on my  Corner of Sky
So no more  'In The Meantime'
Only a sense of  'Now is Nigh! '

Debra Lea Ryan
(c) 12/06/2024

Rath De' Ort

I used to be a different man, bent and mad,
Until a spiritual awakening, rude enough to shake a man,
Forced my hand to take the driver's seat,
To tackle my reality.

Full force is what it takes to move snakes from the grass,
Every path you tread should never be the last.
Know that even when it snows or slows,
It shows you weren't putting on a show,
Because you made it past every single one of your episodes.

I had to cut her loose, even though her caboose could move a moose,
My knuckles are bruised from doing too much Bruce Lee to Richard.

*****, you surprised?
You think if I knew I could rap like this,
I'd keep the disguise.

I euthanized the part of me that used to think
Part of me was incomplete,
Now I'm into pottery and quietly winning the lottery.
Pardon me, the oceans parted for me long ago.
If there's anything that you know that I don't, would you rehearse it?
Sometimes I feel that I've been cursed
With enough knowledge to have been bathed in the Lazarus Pit eternally.

I yearn for thee to come forth,
He who believes could spit better.
Ever since I learned to read, I had to see what they didn't want me to see.
It's deceit really to have been withheld from intimacy.

I mastered the art of plastering smiles through the anguish.
I'm an insane human who's come to disrupt the English language.
I'm fascinated by plains, dames, fractals, diamonds, societal changes, and women.

I grew up listening to mad rappers and what churches called sinning,
But I knew what was meant for me from the very beginning.
Elsie Greek Jan 2023
could she be a literary pope,
signs on the pages arranged
into a Latin-like custom, out of ether
into that virtually diminishing world,
hands-on experience traded for nothing
but practice of high hopes to evolve,
making a difference that simple, effective,
measurable enough to reach.
instead could she dream of something real,
cold, sharp, plausible; stop saying to her
practise only what you preach

it's not a church therein
aching for some sanctuary
since she's on a steep *****.
with some bookish praise still echoing
high-brow bigotry far away
in messages too slow,
she knows only to be in the moment

there pages may feel shame,
money might talk loud,
augmented hands carry powers,
about to be contemporary gods.
could she be told a book is just a book?
shaking from within,
shaken to her core,
a lurking reality:
numbers of them biting the dust,
appeasing, retiring into nonsense
and whatnot,
they revel in everything
Jayda James Apr 2021
A bitter taste so bitter sweet
From what I can see that’s no description of me
Small locs and edgy face
It may be love but it’s bitter taste
I’m so confused and I never should question
What was your intentions of making this happen
As it creeps up
Try my hardest to play it cool
Flashbacks and flashbacks
From the corner of my eyes I can tell it’s you
Not so sudden not so quick
No you can’t have me like this
A bitter taste
Such a sour feel
I see images of a reflection laughing at me
Got a taste of refreshness
And still it never put my mind at ease
So selfish when we’re involved
I should’ve known this love had a strong hold
One that would never be divided
I don’t know why I tried it
With every step I’m cringing
Because how I feel I cannot hide it
Go far away from me
Even at a millions miles
I don’t wanna try it
I cannot get away
Set my mind at ease I no longer crave your presence
Cause it takes control over me
No control over my mind, thoughts and actions
Everytime I see you I get sweaty and nervous
Why do you torture me do you do it on purpose
But so long and goodbye
Easier said then done
I let you go but I know you won’t be gone for long
I say I want you gone but it’s fatal attraction
We no good for each other but we even better together
So long friend I won’t write another letter
This bitter taste in my mouth
Seem to have made me better
Reality will smack you in the face quicker than your thoughts
Sometimes seeing something in real life can make you snap out of it quick
Ankita Dash Jun 2020
You scroll through your social media where people have sworn not to show what they feel like so their 'profiles' can be aesthetic to look at.
You look at dog videos and swear not to think about your dead dog with whom you never got to cuddle one last time.
You walk through streets you've never been to hoping that it'll lead to a story.
You kiss boys and girls you don't really like and pretend you're waiting for the three-days-later call. You constantly listen to Cardi B because you can't take another Bon Iver song.
You fake a smile, an ******, a brave face.
You look at where you're staying and pretend not to long for that one little park in Paris where  you could spend your entire life.
You unblock the ones you lost and feel a fleeting sense of comfort in knowing that they're not happy either and block them again, to feel 'powerful'.
You look back at your journey and sigh because you haven't done enough. You curl into your uncomfortable bed.

And then you realise you're not done.

You realise your journey is just starting. There's so much left for you to say and do and teach and feel. You realise that the best part about yourself is that you're hopeful, despite it all. You realise that despite all the bad that has gotten to you, there's still good, and you can create it. You realise that you've places to go and people to fall for. You've learnt to become your own teacher and your own pupil. You realise that the sky is not the limit for you. You think people calling themselves a work in progress is a cliché, but you know you're one yourself. You're not magnificent. But you will be.

So you light up a cheap cigarette and play the Bon Iver song. And you wait.
This is obviously not a poem, but prose. I just wanted it to be up here.
Ankita Dash May 2020
I was still covered in placenta when they locked me in this golden cage

fast at work,
they didn't care how calloused their hands got
rough ropes fed through the pulleys,
and sewed into the heavy haze of distraction.

I promise you,
if they could leave this pedestal and share the warmth that is burning and bubbling for them, they would do it;
but the fall would **** them first.

there are two ways to rob someone of their humanity-
to idolise them
and to ignore them;
so perhaps we all share the same emptiness that way.
Ashlyn Rimsky Dec 2019
you lay in your bed
regardless of whether or
not you make it first
a little coffee shop thought i had today. id love to polish it up and make it into a nicer short poem/not a haiku, but the concept really resonated with me.
Inmywritings Apr 2019
New job, new life
New house, new start
Shifted my house from south to north as I built  up my career
and forgot to smile.
Walking through this house alone with thoughts....
“This is all that I'm left with or what?”
Career is not everything. Family,love, laugh, friends.... all these things together is called life.
Experience all the emotions.
Edric Daumier May 2018
A girl is more than just dresses, butts, and *******,
she is worth more than your dares and bets,
on trying to break her heart,
and break her down.
She is more than just a toy to play with,
until you see her crack and frown.
She is not used to please you, to serve you,
for you to demean her,
a girl is not just something to amuse you,
as if you hired a clown.
No, she is worth more than that, and she deserves more than that,
She deserves to wear a crown.
Allow her to feel like royalty,
not to feel unworthy,
as she walks the streets in fear,
because they say she is flaunting her gifts,
and she is something to hunt, like a game for deer.
No, a girl is someone special,
a girl deserves to show her confidence,
where her body has acceptance,
not of *** or lust,
or of the size of her bust,
but for her self-esteem,
so let her dream,
and make her dreams come true,
where she can wear her pink dress, or skirt that was blue,
she is more than just something for you to do.
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