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LeV3e May 12
I'm so obsessed with
Being better that I'll
Be better at being worse to, you

In our worst moments
You'd better remember
The rhythm of the words we spoke, cause

Through better or worse
Until death do us part
My better half is your worst
GhostCat Apr 18
I've three poems to write for Open Mic on Monday night
But where to get the inspiration?
How do I know what will sound right?
I'll have to dig deep to find new words and sentences in my own time
As well as making it matter
That make sense to you
But isn't too preachy whilst stood in the limelight
Something that flows free
And comes naturally
In hindsight
How do I change up the rhymes
But keep my structure and flow tight
What style am I wanting to deliver?
Well, I want to really reach in to memories
From which emotions are triggered
But still keep some sort of restrain
To tame all those scenes you'll envision
Cos that's me at heart
I'm all about subtlety
When using specific words and wisdom as art
But I'm not a master yet
I've still got lots more learning to do
I'm still yearning for you
To give me feedback
So if I talk crap
And it sounds whack
Tell me to stop and rethink
I can always backtrack
Cos I've got a passion for language
Which at times is demanding
When I can't seem to get what I want on a page
I'll sit and think for ages
Even when there's no sunlight
To break through the haze
Only by emptying my thoughts
Can I navigate this inner maze
So let me now share with you
How I've written words in cursives
How I've arranged every word
So these verses feel furnished
Full of purpose
And meaning
That enter your chest
Just off left
So you physically feel
What I'm revealing
Giving life to meaning
And now I've started
I'll finish
Cos I'm fully committed
That's one poem down
2 more left to envisage
I hope you enjoyed this
Simple musing I've written
As the Everburning rises in to prospective,

I gaze out of my window,

Using that moment to be reflective.

An introspective moment that swarms the temple like flies.

No matter the weather outside,

The rain always makes it inside.
Things have been even more difficult lately for myself. I really don’t know if I want to continue this experience.
mg Apr 15
Even urgency
resists the urge
of plea.
m lang Feb 1
it was the frustration.
the frustration caused by
your arbitrary outbursts of anger,
whilst vomiting words of resentment and regret.
words that melted into my veins,
tarnishing my blood
with the ink that fueled my writers hand.

the dependency and obligations that i had to be yours,
and yours only.
the suffocation entrapped me
              (((inside of a cage)))
                       so small.
once i finally remembered,
"i could spread my wings."
i realized your latch couldn't hold me captive.

the salty tears that endlessly
stained my cheeks,
swelled my eyes,
and shortened my breath.
the emotions, the motions,
my body was speaking to me.
i was finally able to listen.

the intensity of emotions
without regard for
                           emotional intelligence.
it never made for a successful relationship,
but it sure as hell made for a good story.

our love ended at the cost of many cons,
but it came with a recipe for beautiful prose.
m lang Mar 3
i'm at war.
but how do i fight
my own demons?
how can i pull myself down,
when they push me above.
above my conscious layer,
in the ego is where they thrive.
if i can submerge
into the subconscious,
if my will aids my side,
i will fight
and i will survive.
Bardo Apr 11
You find yourself in a strange street somewhere, a busy street of a big town or city
There's people going around about their business
They pass you by paying you no heed
You'd think you'd feel lost, an outsider here
But no! You don't,
You've been here before
And what's more you seem to know your way around
And there's this wonderful excitement inside of you
This delicious expectation of something
You know there's great delights to be had here.

You seem to know exactly where to go
You turn off the street into another and walk a short way
Then there's another street with some shops
And there's this one particular shop
Outside it's not much to look at
Even inside there doesn't seem to be much going on
There's other people there but you're not interested... you're not even curious
It's like you're on autopilot
You walk right up to the counter
And the lady comes over
And you whisper "I'd like to go in the back please"
It's just like a Speakeasy
She tells you to wait, to take a seat for a second, then she disappears
A few moments later a door opens over at the side
The lady is standing there, she beckons you to come over
You go and suddenly there's this long hallway/corridor
You go down it and there at the end
It's the Salon !

You can ask for whatever you want in the Salon, whatever you desire
And it's all... it's all totally free
Suddenly you find yourself in a room
There's a beautiful lady there
She's naked and she's smiling right at you
Then you realize that you too are naked
She comes up to you and caresses you, she's so soft and gentle
You can feel her touch, feel her body pressing against yours, and then she kisses you
Her tongue in your mouth
It's like licking an ice ice cream cone
She's sweet
You can really feel her like she's something... something totally real.

(I remember when I was younger I used get these nightmares all the time
There was one and it was like this claw around your throat suffocating you
You'd have to really fight it, make an almighty effort to wake up, to escape it
It was something real, a force you had to fight, you could really feel it
The feeling in the Salon, it was similar but it was like the opposite of that
Instead of being something threatening it was something wonderfully pleasurable and thrilling).

She's so amazing, so soft and so gentle
You start to get aroused, it's like a lovely energy running through you
Like a wonderful slithering snake, so pleasurable
You feel like laughing at the joy of it all,
Normally now you'd come to a ****** and that'd be it over
But this time, no! this time I suddenly stop her, and I start to talk to her (I find I can talk to her)
"You know", I say, "you're so beautiful, so gentle and soft and kind
You're too good for the likes of me, I don't deserve you
Where I come from, I haven't met many really nice girls, not like you
It's always been like a battle, the Girls I've known,
They run you down, rip holes in you
Talking loud, trying to shock you and embarass you, control you
Have one eye on you, the other on their gang behind you
Their in no way genuine
You're nothing but a plaything to them
And y'know... it's all I've ever really known
I've never met any...any soulmate
And what's really sad is now I find myself gravitating towards those kinds of women...
I mean the cruel heartless ones
Why...why is that?

Me! I'm like that song "I don't know what Love is (I want you to show me)"
I don't know what real Love is, I haven't the faintest clue, the faintest idea
Hell! I don't even know what a girl, a woman is
I never had a sister and when you don't have a sister
It's the media, the world that tells you what a girl, a woman is
Their just pretty faces and nice *****, lovely legs and shapely bottoms
Then I look at her and I ask
"You don't have another more strict, more harsh severe kind of Lady
Some demanding imperious black leather clad (or rubber clad) *****
Maybe some superior cold aloof glacial goddess type,
Or what about a beautiful black booted stiletto heeled nice blonde **** girl, beautifully cold and merciless ?"
With this she gives me a knowing smile
"I know just what you're looking for" she says
Then she brings me to a room and tells me to wait there
She smiles when she's leaving me and there's so much in that smile she gives me
It tells me I'm in for an amazing time.
When she's gone I think to myself
"Well, this is a first, this never happened before
Now I'm gonna meet some awesome formidable lady, some terrible haughty domineering Queen
Y'know she might even talk to me, I might learn something
She might tell me why things are the way they are.

Anyway I'm waiting there pacing excitedly up and down the room
I can hardly contain myself
I can hear voices in the next room
Suddenly then, right out of the blue, suddenly this Bell goes off, yea! this bell starts ringing
What's that! I think to myself, Is there a fire! Are we being raided !!! What's going on ?
So I look out the door and there's this girl talking to another girl down the hall, their smiling and laughing together
They seem oblivious to any bell that's ringing
What the hell, I think, what's going on, that's really annoying
What's... what's that Bell ?
Eventually my eyelids, they start to flicker
Until finally they open up altogether
I find myself lying in my bed and my alarm clock on the bedside table... my alarm clock it's ringing
"Feckin', feckin' alarm clock!" I think to myself,
"Now that's what I call... that's what I call Bad timing".
A true story this. More funny dreams, wet dreams and the psychic ladies. Psychic ladies do it best LoL.
Rickey Spence Mar 12

Did you ever play in the rain as a kid?
Now it reminds us of all sadness did.
Did you ever stare out of a window pane,
And let your joyless tears fall with the rain?
Did it ever make you feel wet and miserable,
And leave you asking questions unanswerable?
Did you ever wonder how something with
So much life could bring also death?
Oh, young Thomas,
     How with paling eyes he gazes,
Poor lad, used up,
        How with fluttering hands he goes,
Poor sweet Thomas,
           How with fleeting fingers reaches.

For hands unshaken,
    Pages unturned,
   Steps untaken,
  And the things unlearned.

Sweet Thomas,
    Good Thomas who did wrong to no one.
  How he gently goes.
  How gently goes the ghost.
An old one for nostalgia's sake, and for years without a good friend.

For Aaron and Nick.
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