Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#triumphant
Along the threaded lag bolt path, at scale, as existence twists toward a peace past understanding, even in the past when religions won wars against heathen satanic savages and book makers… made slaves of all losers… and heroes died young… old Is-ai-ah a liar yoke broke bull. Or does life in the word realm extend dominion across domains long reserved for the learn-ed mankinds worth decreed long lines of ration reservations, right to use rules, golden ruled, chuwd chiydah riddle a little riddle shamar briyth amar by keeping our weform whatsoever we agree, we makes our stand, not under by my own word, I so say, on --gwanb'guns half done doit be thinking once I heard tell I know that riddle in Ezekial, from a POV ascribed to professional amanuensis - ritual hear and reply, last words spoken - in secret sacred all in once told tales, crossroad wagers offered never tell a soul you saw the towb ra' without mentioning the wise serpent, risen in curious music from nowhere, wha… a class of tongueless eunuchs some have suggested. Created to oath bound accuracy, verbum verily holding the rude pen in spirit 17:21… after the riddled parable And all his fugitives with all his bands shall fall by the sword, and they that remain shall be scattered toward all winds: and ye shall know {Dusty trails, forever} that I the LORD have spoken [it]. A long, long time ago… Suffice to know the Torah, preserves the form of temporal wrath defense rituals, Jolly good luck charming mitzvahs, the recipes, the dance, none chance old as the stories told during Job's days, centuries before Moses, if Moses ever was, as the witnesses of all first drafts… done left us riddles and esoterica, mostly to keep us safe from preachers.
0
Dec 8, 2024
Dec 8, 2024 at 7:51 PM UTC
Thoughts on a linen fragment filled in
Along the threaded lag bolt path, at scale, as existence twists toward a peace past understanding, even in the past when religions won wars against heathen satanic savages and book makers… made slaves of all losers… and heroes died young… old Is-ai-ah a liar yoke broke bull. Or does life in the word realm extend dominion across domains long reserved for the learn-ed mankinds worth decreed long lines of ration reservations, right to use rules, golden ruled, chuwd chiydah riddle a little riddle shamar briyth amar by keeping our weform whatsoever we agree, we makes our stand, not under by my own word, I so say, on --gwanb'guns half done doit be thinking once I heard tell I know that riddle in Ezekial, from a POV ascribed to professional amanuensis - ritual hear and reply, last words spoken - in secret sacred all in once told tales, crossroad wagers offered never tell a soul you saw the towb ra' without mentioning the wise serpent, risen in curious music from nowhere, wha… a class of tongueless eunuchs some have suggested. Created to oath bound accuracy, verbum verily holding the rude pen in spirit 17:21… after the riddled parable And all his fugitives with all his bands shall fall by the sword, and they that remain shall be scattered toward all winds: and ye shall know {Dusty trails, forever} that I the LORD have spoken [it]. A long, long time ago… Suffice to know the Torah, preserves the form of temporal wrath defense rituals, Jolly good luck charming mitzvahs, the recipes, the dance, none chance old as the stories told during Job's days, centuries before Moses, if Moses ever was, as the witnesses of all first drafts… done left us riddles and esoterica, mostly to keep us safe from preachers.
Continue reading...
68
It is I who slew the dragon And I who must be king The burden of a crown Is what that night did bring A knight who was triumphant And stood on solid ground Piercing the monster through the heart Until it made no sound But in the court of whispers They laugh behind their hands For the throne I won with valor, Is built on shifting sands It was I who slew the dragon, And faced the beast alone The king of fools they call me But it is I who claimed the throne
0
Oct 16, 2024
Oct 16, 2024 at 9:23 AM UTC
The King of Fools
I am a piece of paper. I have been cut down, and put through a mill. I have been tossed by the winds, yet tethered to every word written upon me. Words written in black ink, spelling in all capitals that I'm useless, and unlovable.  That I am in the way, and that when I am out of the way I am forgotten. Words written in blood, saying that I have no reason to go on. I will never be accepted; that I am not enough.   Words written in invisible ink saying that I will never be seen. My paragraphs are blotted out, crossed through and rearranged by careless editors. My crisp texture, and white color gives way to muddy boot prints. I am rife with tears and crinkles at the hands of careless of writers. I have been cut down, and put through a mill. The truth is though... I am a piece of paper. I have many uses. I can be your origami, a love note, or an airplane. I can be an interesting article, or a beautiful story. There, among the chicken-scratch and scar tissue, I have room to write my own words. With caret marks I correct every word I ever let define me. My story isn't written on me.  The changes made to the words written on me are my story. One thing this piece of paper has learned, is that you should never give people the power to write in permanent maker what should only be written in pencil. And you cannot control the whipping wind you whirl in, but you can be a page worth a second look. We are all worth a revision.
0
May 20, 2020
May 20, 2020 at 2:49 PM UTC
Paper
Break downs happen before a break through. -Kada
0
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 1:39 PM UTC
Victory
In moments of weakness I’m like a hermit In moments of strength the lion emerges
0
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 2:53 PM UTC
Continue
You flatter yourself by thinking those harsh words were about you. You don't mean enough to me for me to set aside time to write about you, let alone think about you.
0
May 24, 2017
May 24, 2017 at 8:11 AM UTC
The Whole World Isn't About You.
Hold your breath. Count to Ten. When you've done it. Take it all in. There is more to this. More to your world and my own. There is a beautiful sky. Even though the clouds hang low. With every death there is life. With every sadness there is joy. Just take a breath. Feel everything around you. Its purpose, your purpose. Everything has a sliver of goodness. A taste of what better days will bring. Close your eyes, count to ten, time to get up, your day begins. D. L. Smith 11/15/2016
0
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 11:08 PM UTC
Take Your Breath
I am not an actress worthy of the screen, I am but a normal human. And I know, I too am mortal My pain, and sadness you refuse to understand So, I pretend. I smile, laugh and it kills me You who fail to understand me They tell me to try And I do, yet every time when all is going well You look at me with eyes of disgust Shame me if you must Shame me if you will But know one thing I will eventually move on You will not be my chains I refuse you to be what holds me down I will cast you away from me My dear depression
0
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 10:50 PM UTC
Dear Controller,
***Ensnared in the crystallization    of  web's intimidating deception, superficial spider met its duplicitous match, whence the improvised contortionist morphed          forth from its chrysalis,               spun midst grandeur                in triumphant                             survival of flight's                                        sheer inception***
0
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 9:32 AM UTC
Spider met its match
I missed the taste of you. And the way your lips pressed to mine so lovingly and filled to the brim with affection. I missed the way you watched my movements. As if I was a rare animal in the wild, which both fascinated and inspired you. I missed the way your hands felt. And the way they curled into mine, fitting as if they were destined to be there. I missed the way you made me laugh. The most honest smiles I have ever made were in your presence. And I knew we'd make it. My perfect constellation. My greatest adventure. My love. And even in the midst of those who say "NO" and "NEVER", we find ourselves surrounded by love and determination. A little home built for our hearts. And a triumph like no other. (i. r)
0
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 8:07 PM UTC
Triumph