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#feeble
Since I was a child I have fervently Tried to filter out Negative echoes Of our history And focus On each one. Echoes are Shockwaves Throughout Society Building strength And momentum as They damage then Ricochet off one Person to another Like a viral or Bacterial infection Mutating and building Up resistance to our Strong Mediocre And Often Feeble Societal Antidotes. I try as many do To be a Shock absorber -- A small part of The solution; Trying to help break The vicious cycle by Somehow attempting To Absorb the shockwaves To help prevent them From hitting someone Else Or at least Lessening their strength And momentum -- A form of harm Reduction I suppose. Just lending an ear And Lending a shoulder To lean on or Cry on Seems to be An integral part in Lessening the Negative Effects.
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Apr 22, 2025
Apr 22, 2025 at 11:16 AM UTC
Echoes and Shockwaves
Some are my angels Halo'd and winged Others my demons Horned and singed These words I speak of, these ill-fated feti, doomed remnants on the yellowed page. Lie lonely, and shawled found in attics and cobwebbed mem'ries long gone in scrapbooks and photos of loved ones moved on Wicked words can devour the feeble and weak as they bump into walls in the night. Sightless, and hushed Yet there was once a vision They once had a voice And I am not God. The weak make their own choice
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Mar 28, 2025
Mar 28, 2025 at 8:01 AM UTC
My Wicked Words
I close my eyes A feeble attempt to get back to a dream I realize It's ridiculous to chase one particular theme Too many tries With no mind paid to what it could mean I fantasize But fantasies have a misleading gleam The crystal ball lies It's all a regurgitated, outdated scheme My reality cries But it's better than when it use to scream ©2024
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Nov 30, 2024
Nov 30, 2024 at 8:37 PM UTC
~•§•~ Tears of Reality ~•§•~
<> walking the feeble line —————————— there is a name for what is witnessed nearly nightly, common ****** and/or scientific, when I awake circa 3 AM,  and the entire sky is overhung with a stolid, calmly, ponderous inverted dingle~single, sky-filling cloud, with  faint, ragged line of far distant of didactic, urban and natural light, an imagery what s presumably the end of the world insofar as far as the human mind can interpolate the faraway mystique, for our modern eyes see but cannot necessarily comprehend  the enormity and the simultaneous limiting granularity of the night horizon, when it is just outside through the clear glass, this enormous fog that is indescribable, an overwhelming, inconceivable conception that our ancestors took for granted as a natural demarcation of everything physical, of our world’s entirety. 3:47 AM when the semi-roused mind bids the entirety of me to awaken, ascertain the mystery of the sky and the sounds of rushing water within the confines of the cottage, both which have no earthly reason to be simple, self-explanatory. the parallel of external state to body internal, comes first to mind when I creakily stand, to better understand the grandeur vision seeing, and the noises so localized hearing, that a time/body disorientation disorder is the sole explanation for my disrupted feeble state of mind, physical and mental, occupational hazarding   of my confused existence. are you still here? are u coming along with me on this journey? amazing, if yes is your cognitive reply! is this a poem, an essay, a plaintive wail for a general infirmity that is irreconcilable with facts and the imagery of a mobile man, who yet dodders and toddles, when stumbling stiffly through the fodders, them open spaces of his mind, and his physicality, both stumbling erratically like that sort of out there, sort of not, feeble line in the sky, and the feeble line inside him of a shuffling old man he knows or recognizes not, hence the title of the poem, created in a millisecond of cellular cognition, whose explanation, exploration and expiation of his existence needing some kind of sensible interpretation. edging past 4AM, WITH NO answer for anything clouding through the rivulets of the mind, he summons up the time in memoriam summary of all men, for all essential existence, it is what it is, that neither satisfies at all but just sufficiently, that he could put down the imagined pen, pull the cover beneath the chin line, letting sleepy reign over him once more, and perish the thought, he will do it all over again, tomorrow some twenty four hours hence, thankful the murk of clouds prevents him from seeing a battlefield of stars, which too, comprehensively incomprehensible to the feeble line he hopefully, is yet then still a straddle. good night you boon companion, meet you on the other side of the line, which is what lines are for, a demarcation between you and me that we welcome, to cross wordlessly and word fully, and shall do, as is our due, again, soon enough. g’night! 4:26 AM
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Jul 14, 2023
Jul 14, 2023 at 4:33 AM UTC
walking the feeble line
<> walking the feeble line —————————— there is a name for what is witnessed nearly nightly, common ****** and/or scientific, when I awake circa 3 AM,  and the entire sky is overhung with a stolid, calmly, ponderous inverted dingle~single, sky-filling cloud, with  faint, ragged line of far distant of didactic, urban and natural light, an imagery what s presumably the end of the world insofar as far as the human mind can interpolate the faraway mystique, for our modern eyes see but cannot necessarily comprehend  the enormity and the simultaneous limiting granularity of the night horizon, when it is just outside through the clear glass, this enormous fog that is indescribable, an overwhelming, inconceivable conception that our ancestors took for granted as a natural demarcation of everything physical, of our world’s entirety. 3:47 AM when the semi-roused mind bids the entirety of me to awaken, ascertain the mystery of the sky and the sounds of rushing water within the confines of the cottage, both which have no earthly reason to be simple, self-explanatory. the parallel of external state to body internal, comes first to mind when I creakily stand, to better understand the grandeur vision seeing, and the noises so localized hearing, that a time/body disorientation disorder is the sole explanation for my disrupted feeble state of mind, physical and mental, occupational hazarding   of my confused existence. are you still here? are u coming along with me on this journey? amazing, if yes is your cognitive reply! is this a poem, an essay, a plaintive wail for a general infirmity that is irreconcilable with facts and the imagery of a mobile man, who yet dodders and toddles, when stumbling stiffly through the fodders, them open spaces of his mind, and his physicality, both stumbling erratically like that sort of out there, sort of not, feeble line in the sky, and the feeble line inside him of a shuffling old man he knows or recognizes not, hence the title of the poem, created in a millisecond of cellular cognition, whose explanation, exploration and expiation of his existence needing some kind of sensible interpretation. edging past 4AM, WITH NO answer for anything clouding through the rivulets of the mind, he summons up the time in memoriam summary of all men, for all essential existence, it is what it is, that neither satisfies at all but just sufficiently, that he could put down the imagined pen, pull the cover beneath the chin line, letting sleepy reign over him once more, and perish the thought, he will do it all over again, tomorrow some twenty four hours hence, thankful the murk of clouds prevents him from seeing a battlefield of stars, which too, comprehensively incomprehensible to the feeble line he hopefully, is yet then still a straddle. good night you boon companion, meet you on the other side of the line, which is what lines are for, a demarcation between you and me that we welcome, to cross wordlessly and word fully, and shall do, as is our due, again, soon enough. g’night! 4:26 AM
Continue reading...
55
Beautiful Rhythms Of Love, Vibrations of a touch, Reaching deep in the dirt, Are you a medium my dear? My heart dead in waste, You speak languages it hears, Digging it out like diamonds bright, In too deep I've lost this last rhyme.
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Apr 14, 2021
Apr 14, 2021 at 2:58 PM UTC
I'M READY.
"Please... Help me escape this reality and take me away; So far away, send me to the world of fantasy. " "Give me a door to the world of illusion, please..." "Send me there, in hopes that I find something that could fill that dissatisfied void inside of me," I'm such a coward. Who knew I had such feeble feelings? Things like this aren't so necessary, right;? Daydreaming is all I had; And there's something I wanted to reach so bad. I clutch onto the bars that keep me isolated. I see that ray of light; it was merely inches away, yet it feels like miles apart from me. Should I go and grasp for it? Escape this prison of my mind and live in a life full of satisfaction? Or will this thinking even get me far? What if I failed? Who will come to my rescue? Who will save me from drowning in an ocean with no water as air stopped flowing down my lungs? Can this heaviness be lifted? This void within my chest? If I was set free, who will accompany me in a vast world like this? With this coop of thought that I have; I'm no better than that person who was in a room with no doors, just four corners.
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Jan 27, 2021
Jan 27, 2021 at 11:22 PM UTC
Lonesome "Bird Cage"
Heart of fortune filled with frecklish love for solitude, One minute i love all, the next i love nothing. I dont know what my feeble heart desires.
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May 26, 2020
May 26, 2020 at 1:23 PM UTC
Heart of fortune
Senseless. Shapeless. Restless. Feelings that I wanted to flee when the world went dark It seems, I feel delighted every night Totally alone, stuck in darkness' side. Even now, I couldn't feel the frozen ground As I lay underneath a big old oak tree I don't know if it is inhuman to stay calm When you couldn't find the beauty of the things around. I won't fret if the moon vanishes from my sight I'm thankful of the insects silenced by the cold I feel the emptiness run inside me I can comprehend now the language of pain. I know, I'm an unconvincing feeble Swallowed by world's benightedness Trying to find an answer in all the miseries Makes me feel that my life is so pointless. Somehow, I wanted to go out of this situation overnight I wanted to view things to it's perfection But again and again I always end up in this prison cell. I couldn't deny, I'm so cruel to myself I always let intrusive thoughts intrude In the vicinity of my consciousness Because, I want to be a witness of this Moonless Darkness.
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Apr 4, 2020
Apr 4, 2020 at 7:37 AM UTC
Moonless Darkness
Give the gates of your heart permission to be wide open but make sure not to let winter settle in your feeble bones.
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Feb 13, 2019
Feb 13, 2019 at 6:37 PM UTC
Permission to be
Do you feel it when Your mind is drifting to Someone other than The one you’re talking to? I ignore it as often As I think I can possibly do But do you realize the space Captured in my head by you? I know not what to call this It’s breathable and new. I do not want to spoil this Fearing what it’ll turn into. The paranoia of losing it Is what I’ve already grown into. Conservative, feeble, shy? Call me whatever you want to.
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Feb 3, 2019
Feb 3, 2019 at 3:44 AM UTC
Daydreaming
I was a wobbly little girl Tortured by my devil She chased and chased me Hunting me down Criticised my success Laughed at my victory Shortened my smiles Prevented my laughs My first tear My only snap My loudest sob The whitest flag I cried for help there she was I called emergency there she was I raced to school there she was I ran back home there she was Darkness flowed through her veins Jealousy kept her running Black magic empowered her Sorcery concealed the naked my head ****** my hands tied my face torn my vision blurred Now she shoots and shoots and shoots right through me She strikes and strikes and strikes up my smile Protected by my love I realised right then I tried to die once Never again.
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Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 4:03 PM UTC
A.
My imagination is so feeble, For no matter how hard I try, My image of how beautiful you are Is nothing like reality. My best dreams are so ineffectual. For no matter how lucidly, My clearest dreams of you and your beauty, Are dull compared to the real you. My most eloquent words lose their meaning, For no matter what words I choose, My language too simple and imprecise For the indescribable you.
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Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 11:23 AM UTC
Feeble
Spider and Beetle Sun and Moon Sun and Moon Sun and Moon Tired and feeble Sun and Moon Sun and Moon Sun and Moon Sun and Moon Spider and Beetle
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Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 6:47 AM UTC
Spider and Beetle
My mind is a feeble thing Coming unraveled at the seams It lies to me of what it needs Tells me to hate everything To be so critical and obscene Why can’t I just be happy?
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Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 11:55 PM UTC
Mind
Flummoxed, In labyrinths of Baleful forests with eyes of gibbet makers and buried undertakers through gloaming sights, hobbling towards the light. The silver teeth of obeisance sundering will, plundering peace, blazoning smiles of malicious beings.
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Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 12:37 PM UTC
ROAMING IN MORTALITY
The feeble glow of yesterday's myths and illogical legends drift into obliquity where the pallid shapes of old friendships and silhouettes of demented heads merge with a splash of light on the satirical side of solemnity in the pursuit of profundity.
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Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 2:32 AM UTC
Amicable Animals
A scrawny ant Passing through Passing by To find life true By all accounts In attempt Quite feeble Held in contempt Resist nature To fight back To love hope Cope with his lack His home crumbled Upturned life Hold to dreams Battling strife
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Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 1:16 PM UTC
Ant
Nothing bleeds as fast as a broken heart's feeble beat.
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Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 12:53 AM UTC
Bleed Out Inside [10w]
I have no... (self-boundaries) ...means of changing. It's not my fault, I... (place blame) ...didn't mean to lie. Why should I try, I will... (believe in nothing) ...eventually die. All the underground people... (your ancestors and mine) ...Do they remember Being alive?
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May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 7:21 PM UTC
(optional)
I hear the ocean make music Like the rustling of autumn leaves The sound of them gently rubbing As she swept my heart like a wind Singing every word she breathes Upon a haystack full of needles With no rhymes, nor pauses Neither masquerading riddles Simple and unassuming She is a beautiful mess My heart keeps swooning But I couldn’t care less Her flaws are fascinating Like ribbons on her sleeves Her charm is perfume Her name is a spell A graceful soul I see Inside a feeble shell To me she’s one and only And that I can tell My heartbeat thunders And chased her nightmares Like aquamarine Calm and serene A thousand, ten thousand words Isn’t enough to create one phrase But surely, I wrote a love song for two Must I recalibrate, I can’t undo iamthe_avatar ©2014
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May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 3:23 PM UTC
Aquamarine
My soul is trapped Inside my dreams My bones and skin Can’t make me feel I’m standing numb As feelings sleep Inside my cold and fragile heart I’m either trapped inside myself Or lost in an entangled world. My soul is trapped Inside my dreams My bones and skin Can’t make me feel
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May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 10:02 AM UTC
Trapped inside myself