#levels
my mind may have layers
stairs and levels
twisting
and turning
halls and rooms
but don't be fooled
my mind is not
a building
my mind is not
a home
in fact
my mind
is where i get
lost the most
I can't find refuge
not even in my own head
Nov 2, 2020
Nov 2, 2020 at 10:17 AM UTC
My blockchain locks war out.
By exectutive order,
war is not legal.
War is out lawed, right of conquest is negated,
will ye **** me for knowing war is a reason
liars made up for payback.
---
mundanityrealistic every day regular stuff at
the level of muons appearing in places
we expected muons to be,
we see
as we saw, you see
about .3 sec ago, you know, you are determined
to read this line and wonder did you read
read or the past tence
red
as a flavor is a harmonic device in simplificity
ifity bop.
ifity boo, ifty ever after now, who are you?
Mar 29, 2020
Mar 29, 2020 at 8:15 PM UTC
The Leveler
by Michael R. Burch
The nature of Nature
is bitter survival
from Winter’s bleak fury
till Spring’s brief revival.
The weak implore Fate;
bold men ravish, dishevel her . . .
till both are cut down
by mere ticks of the Leveler.
Published by The Lyric, Tucumcari Literary Review, Romantics Quartely and The Aurorean. Keywords/Tags: nature, survival, bitter, winter, spring, fate, weak, bold, time, levels, leveler
Mar 27, 2020
Mar 27, 2020 at 5:07 AM UTC
Up
Down
On
Off
Left
Right
What
Difference
Does
It
Make?
Everything.
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 1:56 PM UTC
we know the world from
what we see on the back
of a tarnished silver spoon.
you could make an art out
of the polish, seeking the perfect
patina, judging the skill
of others; that grotesque collective gaucherie.
I say drop it in the dirt
and walk off into that
whirlwind of unsullied
strangeness swirling
behind the perspectives
we value so much.
do what you want.
it is in your hands.
literally.
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 10:48 PM UTC
How I feel has never mattered to you,
I sit with these feelings and just ponder,
How come you never notice when I’m not ok,
How does what you feel always trump little ol me,
Why do you continuously mistreat and use me,
How is any of this okay?
If this is the world that you are offering me,
I want no parts.
I’m good love, enjoy!
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 11:53 AM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
we live for this break,
as much things as we say,
there's no room for mistakes,
I'll be one with you.
we fight different devils,
we beat different levels,
some have hearts like gravel,
I'll be one with you.
you're the,only one that knows my
struggles,
Sayings are so fresh and new,
I'd admire you and all the flaws,
Wish I would have knewn you soon.
Dark days are ahead,
Dark days,
Dark days are ahead,
Dark days are ahead,
Dark days,
Dark days are ahead,
Dark days are ahead,
Dark days,
Dark days are ahead,
Dark days are ahead,
Dark days,
Dark days are ahead,
being alone in this world could be the
worst if you know what the feelings are
worth,and so forth,
being alone in this world could be
the
worst if you know what the feelings are
worth,and so forth.
Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 10:26 AM UTC
There’s levels to these levels,
she gets me because she gets me,
I’m high on life checking texts for what’s next,
as I navigate my carriage through this city,
staying gluten free like Putin me,
daily practice of Jiu Jitsu and yoga,
the real deal like Holyfield,
I thought I already told ya,
always on a holiday,
a Libra that’s gone till October,
and you think you’re gonna win this race,
but I’ve got news for you it’s already over,
I’m at the finish line with a vintage wine,
making a toast to the good life,
watching the sunrise from my balcony,
already knowing it’s gonna be a good night,
good night.
∆ LaLux ∆
The New Book Is FREE Here: https://www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 7:50 PM UTC
I am much more than this body.
I'm a temple, I'm a soul, I'm a mind.
Sometimes I'm a movie stuck on rewind.
Reminiscing and replaying,
All the times I was decaying.
But
I am much more than this body,
That will fade with time,
Nothing lasts forever,
Not even this rhyme.
Apr 21, 2017
Apr 21, 2017 at 7:35 AM UTC
I was once shy
I always asked myself why?
"Be different" I whispered to my nine year old self
I recalled that at the time I hated myself
And so I bloomed into this wildflower
I became spontaneous, daring, unique, strange, intelligent yet naive
And so the problems started
You see I wanted to be different
But I didn't know the cost
I didn't know the cost until I became seventeen
You might think it was just the phase of a teen
But NO
As I layed in the ground watching everything pass by I died on the inside
I became consumed to the point of hide
"Be different" "Be accepted" "Be skinny" whispered the nine year old
I tried and I'm sorry for wanting that mold
"I'm sorry" I whisper to my seventeen year old self because the agony was not worth it
I thought drugs and alcohol was lit
I thought boys and women were ****
I thought comments were superficial
I thought social media made me official
Dear nine year old,
bullying made you weary
Tears made you strong
Thoughts killed you
And comments surrounded you but that is gone
That is past
Who are we to judge others?
GOD?
Who are we to comment?
GOD?
Who are we to feel?
Us.
Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 1:37 PM UTC
Happy Birthday to my DAD
Another YEAR of life to add
Another YEAR of wisdom gained
Another LEVEL'S been attained
Yet there's more ACHIEVEMENTS to UNLOCK
To level up is no CAKEWALK
With the power of FAMILY by your side
I think you will enjoy the RIDE
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 9:38 AM UTC
smiling through your sheets
showing you flames
your eyes glowing in the dark
our souls connecting through our skins
getting you wetter by the touch
with your moans becoming the music to my ears
every hair on my body jumping about to have a piece of you
my breath mumbling your name in tongues
those long nails piercing into me bring the feeling of your soul further into mine
the bed springs singing the melody of love.
our love
By: @Ofentse_Tsie & @__Dvniel
Jun 29, 2014
Jun 29, 2014 at 5:25 PM UTC
Condotti, Setting in a street named after someone mysterious in this century, or what more no one cares, filled with history, cared by the worst and the best hidden stories, those streets are filled with voices of the past mixed with noises of the future, siting here in the steps of Condotti staring at the people that about to become from the past, at the people that will be the study of the most mysterious and un-logic humanity, even me i'll be one of those lost voices that been lost in the streets of Condotti.
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 8:10 PM UTC
I am in levels. Past levels. This deep, intrinsic wonderful lost, the lawlessness of its fascinating expenditure of excite. Pushing through the wild and feral snow-dusted plains and timber ridges. Like red-spotted dots breathing through the cylinders called the spine. This descends into a narrow channel of scantly clad greenish scenery in a time-soaked visionary wilderness of snow,
Our crab legs dancing down wiry purple highways, our heads could not even look backwards if we had wanted.
Furious, love-latitudes, stalking breaths thwacking fork-ended tongues into a pinkish knot buried into the first layer of organic membrane on this railway of miniature canals, showing. And their pride snuck into the elbows, shooting down each vertebrae as it stepped with great precision every ledge that the currency emphasized. The raw accumulation of stolen heart-beats rattling between the interstices of new fuel careering these red engines. Crashing with exquisite pleasure into one another.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:41 AM UTC