"accrue" poems
During youth I was quite the collector
of ocean cretin's annealed sandcastles
Though the hosts inside could not be cheaper,
their fleshy coats were worth all the hassles
Content I was amassing worn seashells;
monthly did this fine collection accrue
Though furnished, barren felt those wooden shelves,
as even pearls are lesser than a jewel
Still, the sand was warm; the waves were soothful
and regardless of what hollowness struck,
the beach granted a chance to feel fruitful
so long as one had either skill or luck
Alone was I, but daresay not lonely,
but I was not merry until married.
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 6:55 PM UTC
<>
"And then one day you came back home
You were a creature all in rapture
You had the key to your soul
And you did open that day you came back to the garden
The olden summer breeze was blowin' on your face
The light of God was shinin' on your countenance divine
And you were a violet colour as you
Sat beside your father and your mother in the garden
The summer breeze was blowin' on your face
Within your violet you treasure your summery words
And as the shiver from my neck down to my spine
Ignited me in daylight and nature in the garden"
In the Garden,
song by by Van Morrison
<>
***This touches me deep in the chest cavity,
the palpitations of its internalizing echoing cavitations,
a warning, go slow, choose your words wise and
accrue, the mood,
for the ache of creating, hurts, fevers me
for I am but steps away from the garden,
and its violet hues infused with fresh sunrising golden hazes,
with kindly warmth, with warming kindnesses,
touches,
caresses my shoulders, begs me to stop crying,
overcome, for I am overcome, eyes dropping wetting droplets,
for find myself at the intersection,
interlocking crossroads
where perfect perfection
begins and must
meet its natural endings
thoughts of capture, retentions, preservations,
all impossibilities, challenges,
see me, begging itinerant
muses
in the neighborhood
to guide my hand, teach me newsome words,
mine feel so old, so unworthy of this moment,
hearing me solicit their
Treasure of Summery
Words
but they won't,
excusing themselves,
that this in particular human has exercised, exorcised,
all the tools in his ever diminishing capacity,
time insufficient to learn a new calculus of
addition
and bid me calm my heaving chest,
seize my tears, just add them to the brackish salted waters steps
awaiting away
live in this moment
live within this poem,
revisit it frequent,
weep no more,
your stilling heart weakened,
take fast what is given now,
and be contented,
your treasury chest is full,
overflowing with this summary of
summery***
but I am not, cannot…
7:48:am
jul 22
Jul 22, 2025
Jul 22, 2025 at 8:03 AM UTC
Electromagnetic Motion Ocean Of Pure Focal Emo-tion.
The Very Sound Of The Creators Verse And Rhythm In Loving Notion Pouring Through The Crystalline Endocrine Indoctrinated Shock Ra Of Shocking Unblocking Colorful Tones In Unmolested Focus And Definition.
To Flow Your Emo-tions Through Your Core And Manifest In Your Intended Notion All Without The Misidentified Horror Of The Wrongfully And Negatively Defined Emotions, One Finds That The Mere Act Of William Tell And That Apple Upon The Head Must Have Been One Hell Of An Interesting Interaction, Yet Instead Of The Reassuring Smiles And Calm Demeanor Of The Archer As They Lock Eyes, What Pray Tell You Think The Eyes Of The Archer Looked Like On That Very Frozen In Time Moment As He Released The Arrow To Guided Love Of Perfected Intent And Delivery Of Safe And Demanding Fortitude Of Action To Defeat All Possible Variable , As If To Need To Bend The Very Laws Of Nature If They Were To Cause An Number Of Odd And Unpredictable Events To Derail The Intent Of The Man Shooting The Apple Off The Head Of His Dear Child's Head, For Not A Bird May Pass Between, Not A Gust Of Wind Be Seen, Not An Earthquake Be Fabled To Accrue, Not A Single Action But The Undeterred Focus Of Absolute Might In Will, His Fee Will In Flight. What Might His Eyes Be Relaying In That Frozen Moment? Reassurance, Pity, Fear, Confidence, Or The Electric Fire Of Electromagnetic Motion Ocean Of Pure Focal Emo-tion To Get The **** Thing Done And Without Foolish ******** Reactions To The Real And True Focus Of Emotion, And Pray Tell, What If The Child Mistook This Look In A Moments Notice And Flinched Out Of Concern That The Father Was Angry With Him? Or Is It Best To Realize The Real Importance Of This Story As It Is The Trust In The Definitions Of Intended Focus And Not Of Simple Trust.? ,... Yes, Intended Focus Of Emotions Being Trusted As True And Not Negative In Nature, Dear Friend, Yes. So Let Your Soul Be Your Pilot, Let The Flow Of Emotion Be Free And Not Dictated By The Restraints Of Control And Be Seen And Used In Negative Ways, For These Are The Crimes Against All Mankind And The Bigger Part Of Why Spoken Word Is The Very Spell That Binds The Psyche, For The Focus Of Or The Lack Of Focus Of Emotions True Meaning And Purpose Is The Crime Against All Life Indeed. Live Free And Pilot This Love Ship Successfully By No Longer Defining Self By The Ways And Means That Have Caused Us To Fear Our Own Power To Move Mountains, And Kept Us All Mustard Seeds When We Are Truly Far More Than You Can Believe. Feel Free, Yes, By All Means Feel Free.
Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
Enticing poppy,
an unwitting aid,
one vial of your blood
they **** to accrue.
I’ve never felt you
course deep through my veins
yet, my soul's tarnished,
family destroyed.
**** you, sweet flower,
repossess your gift
that eats from within.
We’ve no want for the
paltry donation
encased in syringe.
Apr 9, 2010
Apr 9, 2010 at 12:23 PM UTC
i can't get you out of my head.
you're stuck there,
you and the words you said.
they were few, calming, reassuring.
i had been underwater for too long
i found myself in your arms.
sweet, thoughtful, dry.
your gaze was loving
against the baby blue sky.
i felt healed, sane.
i felt better than i have in years.
my composure was there again.
i had wished it had lasted,
i wished you could've stayed.
then i found myself alone, horribly alone,
in the purple light, along the shore
in my room.
cruel. cruel. cruel.
things always end.
but our moments accrue
and i am thankful
for the help that was sent.
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 11:53 PM UTC
Muslims are not to date.
But you've seen him kissing Kate.
Zayd, Khalid, Luqman don't care that ALLAH tells us to wait.
They flash their sinful pictures straight.
Without shame, a number of my brothers show children watching how to fake mate.
Selfish, self-centered, I do what I want to do is happening at a fast rate.
Most of them who date know ALLAH regards their actions with hate.
Persistence to do wrong, to fake date Kate, prevents them from moving in a direction that is straight.
Maybe their children, ones they were never told about would have entered the world as ******** late.
Maybe their done away with babies would have exited the world as ALLAH'S slaves who used Islamic knowledge as bait.
Before marriage it is said, I love you, You're hot; Kate steals these phrases from the role of a wife and uses them to increase her heart rate.
They share a bed and have *** but what they want not to know is that they fornicate.
A load of grave sins they accrue and a heavy punishment from ALLAH if they do not feel guilty, if they do not repent, if they do not end what they perpetuate.
Many practicing Muslim maids want not to marry them. Little do those who fake date Kate know that their actions likely got in the way of GOD'S good fate.
That their use and abuse of ALLAH'S fashioned female and a Father's beloved daughter, violates her like how a dog with his razor-sharp teeth on her arm viciously ate.
He and Kate with memories to relive the sores and bruises, the trauma and incidents of disobedience which cut off grace from ALLAH, The Great.
You're going to make wait late.
You're going to fake date Kate.
Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 5:35 PM UTC
It should go without saying
that I go without paying
any attention to you
Your life is my strife,
existence a pun,
and makes you look like a fool.
So you eat lots of shrooms
and listen to Tool...
what do you think that makes you?
When deep is skin-deep,
and piercings eat you,
the tattoos will only accrue
To "tell your story,"
and Whaddup, homie?
until death parts you
From the *** you don't get
and the lies you believe
to sleep at night, ****** and blue
If you were a book,
there'd be lots of pictures
and captions that just read "Who?"
with a cover to judge
and be pretty true
an accurate description of you.
Jul 30, 2010
Jul 30, 2010 at 1:47 PM UTC
1679
Rather arid delight
If Contentment accrue
Make an abstemious Ecstasy
Not so good as joy—
But Rapture’s Expense
Must not be incurred
With a tomorrow knocking
And the Rent unpaid—
1.9k
Repeating nightmares
Just to be sure—
Certain I’m this insecure
Depleting patience
Of conscious dead
From whom nature’s love has bled
The leaders of men
Have come to pray
But no gift can greed allay
Yes, no gift at all
From iron gods
Can assuage a soulless fraud
I call thee, War Horse
The time is nigh
Mars is mirrored in our eyes
And our empty hearts
Will beat anew
With blood vengeance shall accrue
Our humanity—
All our prowess
I bend unto your malice
Ego, madness, hubris, anger
Darkness, violence, loathing, doom
Fury, abhorrence, wrath, danger
Desire, frenzy, hatred, black bloom
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 11:41 PM UTC
Such an abatement of voices creep sparingly, verily I tell you, they shall be accrue in the mornings dew!!
Acquaint me on mine wrongs, thank me for mine songs I subdue!!!
They are just registry's of what's real and what's not!!!!
Must you haveth natural air to breathe? Annotater of annunuity. Apprentice fakes overtake innocent babies where the unnatural scabies infest the freshest of human skins.
Carrouse all your symptoms away. You leader, you fearer, you murderer by day!!!
Your one charitable cent gives to noone, for someone in thy heavens watches your do's and donts!!!!
Sure you won't infest beyond breed. You striver to succeed, your alive today aren't thou?
Grant it, you don't look it....
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 5:50 PM UTC
All about the night of my demise
Were visions of your terrifying eyes,
Natural lovers unnaturally bent to hate.
"Which of your loves?" asks God. I say, "Whichever.
Even empty eyes can penetrate.
I can love them all and love forever.
I only ask all promises be true.
The more I love, the more I can accrue."
To death and all of the promises it brings!
So many forevers with so many different loves;
"I raise your seventy-two virgins" the angel sings,
"Praise the holy **** in heaven above!"
I can't wait 'til promises are put to test
And finally, after "judgement", God can rest.
Jan 7, 2012
Jan 7, 2012 at 2:19 AM UTC
It is time to compile, as it has been a while
and it is worthwhile, to trial
an animal style, that is very versatile.
So, tonight we will do and so-with accrue,
an insight into something funky and spunky,
and do a little Kung Fu Monkey.
But not the whole training sessions,
will be spent on our Monkey Expression,
we will also train, some kung fu just plain.
So, come to training tonight you must,
just come, do not be fussed, else you will rust
your kung fu skills and health too will go bust.
Jun 20, 2015
Jun 20, 2015 at 12:19 AM UTC
Visions of oppositions, positions and prison. The forward missions, the capitalism, criticism and optimism. The Amor, the adored, the allure and the awards! The doors, the poor, the gore and the sore.
The any and many! The many hoards of pennies, before the lords of plenty. The awkward, the backward, the hospital wards and the
mental. Furthermore, more roar and war with a governmental evil,
medieval in blue! Therefore as I do accrue the clues, the dues, the hues and views. Something’s of me? My belated peeling, feelings related to that of a shrine of the divine. Etched and sketched by a pencil and stencil. Designed by the heavens divine. A displaced or misplaced,
abused, bruised and reused utensil. Something’s of me? I am often depressed, half-dressed and suppressed. Distraught and stressed by
thoughts, thoughts that are fought, sought and taught. As I endeavor, forever dedicated. However, medicated or sedated! A neglected, suspected sinner. A grinner and winner in entice haste, with precise
pace! As I taste the waste of this offending never-ending race. Regardless heartless, relentless congress. Yes, in confessing to you; beware of the care, the dare, the flare, the rare of scare! Attempt to see
what I have seen in contempt! In-between or as a teen. The obscene or serene! The many scenes at the seams. Driven by schemes and themes
it seems! Full of the brave that craves! The deprave and the rave. Those things which sing from the grave... Something’s of me? These are no lies, as a book carefully look into my sorrowful eyes. See why I despise, why I am wise. Look beyond the ancient, powerful skies.
They’re in wonderful constant, radiant disguise. Something’s of me?
My sensitive life of delight in fight, fright and plight. My life of sight, my life of trite. My negative pride! My life’s awesome, positive stride! Inside as I cry, as I hide… I depressingly, devotedly, ignorantly, triumphantly, unfortunately, hopefully and literally say. I am definite that one day I will embark into the dark. Emulate as a creative,
relative spark! Onto Noah’s great and infinite ark. Sailing into the prevailing, unveiling rain... with much too gain, maintain, regain and retain. Believing, weaving and leaving the grieving, the blame, the flame, the fame, the insane and the pain.
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 9:17 PM UTC
My death was at an odd time in my life. I never
got to fully experience what it was like to be an adult.
My life was filled with waiting, waiting to be
finally old enough to do the things I wanted to
do. I waited to go out with my friends after dark like
you see in the movies. In them you always see teenagers going
on road trips and I waited thinking to myself 'that
will be the day I have fun.' But even when I did get
older, I never did those things.
I filled my life with fantasy- reading books that projected
the world that I wanted to experience. I sought out magic
in people and the things I did. My magic was painting.
The art room was the place I felt special and like I had
reason to be.
But even so, I waited with my artistic skills. I waited
for them to get better, but they never did.
I always loved helping people. I would always be nice
and I looked for the best in them hoping and wanting
to be liked by everyone- and what teenage girl doesn't
want to be? I waited for the invites to parties to go
get drunk at, I waited to get a high school sweetheart, and
I waited for the time when I would be prom queen.
These are the things that I thought where what you
did in school and I yearned for these experience.
They never came.
I thought that those things would make me happy,
that if I waited long enough they would just naturally accrue.
But I waited for the wrong things. I never realized that
sometimes you have to dive into what you love like
painting and that you have to look around and appreciate
the people and moments that are now.
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 12:53 AM UTC
Happiness, a fragile, elusive wisp,
In the shadows of life, it often slips.
A distant memory of days long past,
A bitter reminder of dreams that couldn't last.
It's the echo of laughter in empty halls,
A fading photograph on crumbling walls.
Happiness, once vibrant, now a faded hue,
Lost in the maze of responsibilities we accrue.
It's the weight of burdens that never relent,
The scars of time, the love that's spent.
In the solitude of nights that seem so long,
Happiness, it seems, has gone so wrong.
It's the dreams deferred, the chances missed,
In the search for meaning, opportunities dismissed.
Happiness, a distant star in a dark abyss,
A longing, a yearning, a bittersweet reminisce.
So we chase it still, through the years we roam,
Hoping to find our way back home.
But adult happiness, it's a complex art,
A delicate balance, a fractured heart.
Sep 29, 2023
Sep 29, 2023 at 3:06 AM UTC
So many lovely, young girls
brimming with despair and despondency.
Makes an old man sad.
You are like buds that can't blossom.
Casual *** attempted suicide,
drugs, alcohol, broken hearts:
all accrue to the self-aware.
Self-awareness is a great gift,
but acutely painful
to the very young.
Never use a man to define yourself.
Only disappointment lives there.
Men aren't all that smart
or valuable, you know,
and can be easily replaced.
In 40 years, you won't remember
his name.
None of this is new.
The trick is to find
your way to survive
and do it no matter what.
On the other side of suffering
is life, and perhaps more suffering.
You don't need bunnies and rainbows,
you only need yourselves and time
and toughness and belief.
Go ahead and blossom.
Make an old geezer smile.
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 8:53 AM UTC
The Flame of Blessing
America’s warriors face dangers untold in a country unlike our own where violent war is a way of life
In evils caldron that burns with natural order hate, teaching laced with poison and ****** is honorable
This can only thrive in a society that kills truth and then in falsehood their black robes invite all strife
Chaos butchery all manner of anarchy is used to try to subdue a people’s God given right to be free
Our troops in one way or another are set to burning Miss Liberty is in their hearts although latent
All that is needed to cause liberty’s flame to blaze is put these blessed ones in contact with tyranny
Every insult and criticism is leveled at the U.S. we need improvement but let evil show and be blatant
Ordinary kids from American streets will rise the last thing you will see is freedom blazing in their eyes
Black hearts are tuff pushing the weak and there fanaticism pretends at being brave every bully’s trait
These cannot be reasoned with madness has one cure annihilation this fight not for the faint hearted
The enemy needs a history lesson Tara, Iwo Jima; Omaha beach a brother hood reborn gun barrel strait
You posses by ideology penned by hell’s most convincing liar we come bearing truth then arms
God’s shadow first then Miss Liberty looms then the unquenchable prayers of a nation they pray for you
Peace, tranquility is worth our sacrifice you are left with a tattered rag a soiled flag marred by carnage
To bleed, true honor the making of a house of arms it will succeed in all war and conflict peace to accrue
We take God given might temper it with mercy and justice for all we are not timid in freedom’s fight
This is the my candle burning
Nov 24, 2011
Nov 24, 2011 at 3:18 PM UTC
O days and hours, your work is this
To hold me from my proper place,
A little while from his embrace
For fuller gain of after bliss:
That out of distance might ensue
Desire of nearness doubly sweet;
And unto meeting when we meet,
Delight a hundredfold accrue,
For every grain of sand that runs,
And every span of shade that steals,
And every kiss of toothed wheels,
And all the courses of the suns.
1.2k
Personal opinions can get warped and pressed
Ideas can get misguided and rushed threw talks and stress
Wrong decision can be made at the though of less
Less money offered to suppress the thoughts of chest
If it dose not agree with the heart, how can they be bought to rest
Sleepless nights, positions of power abused whilst sat down at there import desks
Do not change peoples life's and expect nothing to accrue
You muddle and stir and leave puddles of dirt all over the world
You make up disease and start infecting the herd
You fly drones over civilizations and get the same view as a bird
You control the media and make people perception of reality all puzzled and blurred
The way you cover up your destruction, may seem something absurd
But that's why you get away with it, you leave it unheard
You make such a noise, but some how you creep
Creep so hard to destroy your fleet, at night i'm not sure how sure you sleep
Shepard when you sleep what do you count? If you've destroyed your sheep
The issues deep
But you wont let no average Joe take a cautious peep
You will stand strong, no remorse and wipe him off his human feet
If we don't stand up we will die and regret
If we stand up, how will they forget?
We stand still and let them catch us in the net?
I don't gamble with my life, I'm not out here to make a cautious bet.
Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 1:00 PM UTC
We might all be able to achieve greatness,
But there can only be one greatest.
That title doesn’t include the many.
It doesn’t include the we or the us.
Sure, we can all fight hard,
Take what's coming our way,
Become stronger because of it.
We might be victorious, now and again.
We might hold the trophy over our heads
And shout and scream our triumphs to the crowd
And feel truly, utterly, absolutely great.
But that does not make us the greatest.
The media might herald our names,
Praise us, speak aloud of our greatness.
Others might follow us, love us, worship us,
Wish to be just like us.
Flocks of fans, declaring us the favorite.
But that does not make us the greatest.
We might make millions,
Accrue and accumulate wealth beyond wealth,
Seize land, buy power, pay our way.
Show it all off, the glitz and gleam;
A man makes money,
But the money really, truly makes the man.
But that does not make us the greatest.
We might be consumed by adversity
Yet come out swinging on the other side.
We might beat back all the others,
Emerge with our heads high and our fists in the air…
But that does not make us the greatest.
Who sets the expectations?
Who writes the criteria?
Who upholds the standards?
Who is the greatest?
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 9:21 AM UTC
to-day I had a lot of washing to do
as I'd let it pile up and accrue
there were shirts and sweaters galore
and socks quite literally by the score
it is always a pleasure
to empty one's laundry hamper
as it makes one feel
like a satisfied camper
with it all been done
and up to date
I can sit down
to cogitate
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 10:44 PM UTC
A broken heart
By definition
Cannot act
Based on ambition
And is doomed
To submission
Cursed to feel
Only contrition
But take this moment to listen
To what I have to say to you
A broken heart
Is seen as weak
And the future
Of it bleak
But every crack
Tear and streak
Leaves the owner
More unique
With only confidence to accrue
A broken heart
Once it’s mended
Can shake off
Why it pretended
To endure
What it expended
To keep it’s
Own needs unattended
In fear of losing what was good
A broken heart
Once fixed
Even with
Emotions mixed
And after all
Enemies nixed
By their lies
So transfixed
Is now free to do what it should
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 2:32 AM UTC
I see you
I know you don't think so,
but it's true
I see what you are being put through
I see you doing whatever it is you have too just to continue
I've seen the levels of doubt and anxiety you've been pushed to
I see you've lost faith in player two
I see you crack but not break,
Though I notice you running out of glue
And I see the struggles accrue,
With everything I do and don't do
Every time I tell you I've failed you
Your eyes tell me you already knew
This is nothing new
You don't deserve this much blue
©2024
Apr 8, 2024
Apr 8, 2024 at 3:42 PM UTC