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A Thomas Hawkins Aug 2010
That unexpected surge of passion
who knows from whence it came
But we just had to have each other
over and again

Barely time to make it through the door
before clothing it got shed
no time to waste on buttons
things just got ripped off instead

fumbled for a light switch
staggered 'long the hall
moonlight through the windows
as family photo's started to fall

dining table cleared
in a single one armed sweep
who cares about the noise
it's too late to be discrete

skirts lifted to save time
******* just pulled to one side
belts undone, zippers ripped open
so suddenly inside

a display so animal in nature
as your nails dug in my back
groans of passion fill the air
patience was all we lacked

Eventually its over
****** acheived, ****** shared
panting in the moonlight
bodies naked, passions bared

This doesn't happen every day
and maybe never will again
That unexpected surge of passion
who knows from whence it came
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Let me take a minute of your time to set the precarious scene,

It was a warm august night under a full moon and I could see the stars in abundance,

as I sat on the floor leaning on the couch looking out of the opened front door.

I was drinking relatively expensive  american red wine,

which goes to say it was probably lower grade on a global scale,

and drinking it from a beautiful crystal wine glass.

I sipped on the expensive swill, while over my right shoulder,

on the couch I could hear moans of happiness from the two girls making out just above me.

There lips could be heard pounding harmoniously along with Fur Elise by Beethoven

playing softly in the background

and the moon, the stars,the opened door and the pleasure could be heard not only from Beethoven,but also from there lips embarked in joy Chopin would not have acheived,

For judgement layed at the open door under the stars and the moon and for Chopin.
Loving you was once precious and the light it gave once let me bask in the glow,
Now I realize how you've destroyed all the possible sucess I could've acheived,
You are not an angel like I once claimed you were,
Now in my eyes you are only one of Satans spawns,
You try to repair it all but you only make it worse,
You think I don't know the truth,
Like I'm some sort of ****** fool?!
I know better than to play by your rules,
This time when you try to "fix things"
I'll say "***** YOU" and walk away,
And when I go don't expect me to come back,
Not for you,
Hell no.
To my heartbreaker...>:O
Tyler Derksen Oct 2011
So many miles and feet to go,
I'm covering kilometers.
The petal's to the metal,
And I'm worried about my odometer.
The speeds to fast,
For the pace of life.
Continuously avoiding,
This kind with simple strife.

A mile so far,
A mile so close.
Your only a mile away.

The race to find desires,
I grow tired.
For something built for downfall,
I retire.
The goal for something newer,
Is acheived.
For the truth that drives my soul,
I turn to Thee.

Euphoria, Gloria!
And all I can think of for this story is... You!

A miles' so far,
But yet's, so close... Worth running to!
To find a home,
Where life's dreams may roam!
One heart to last a lifetime,
One beat to last one mile.
Thats all I need to give the rest of them,
To my one and all!

Because there's so many miles in the world,
And only one of them is the longest.
And only this one is the closest.

A mile so far,
A mile so close.
Your only a mile away.

Be still,
Turned into an expression of.

You're miles away, and...
I miss you.
Your across the room,
And I...
Q Apr 2017
Life is right-handed
Just a little bit different
Just slightly inoptimal for you
Or perhaps you are inoptimal for life.

You live with your left hand outstretched
But recieve with only your right.
And the world was made ever so slightly
Without you in mind.

Belonging is overrated
Unless, of course, you already belong.
But you've never quite fit in a square box
You're slanted, just a bit.

Perfection is impossible
For all those who haven't acheived it, at least.
You've never been a failure, just
You've never really fit.

Life is right-handed and you
You are not.
You are not a victim, not marginalized
You are not excluded or left behind.

But you are left-handed
And Life is not
And the world was made ever so slightly
Without you in mind.
Matalie Niller Jun 2012
Admitted affection
or fear of rejection,
accepted attention from sweet souls
or incite admiration from attractive ones
Skinny-dipped, touched lips
with anyone
or even hold their hand,
been free
or properly controlled myself when necessary,
only potentially destructive
but without the nerve to do so,
never fully accepting though the concept makes sense,
I read a book or two on the topic,
the practice much less tangible,
maybe only for the few who have the guts to try,
not for those who sit and wait for confidence to make a move
to play Russian Roulette with another
I never owned a gun but still shot myself in the foot
same place, again and again
just stuff myself with food and alcohol
numbness better than reality
right?
Not quite
I exist to try to live though it's so simple it's a mockery to attempt to apply words to the concept
stand up stand proud sing
be the type of person you admire
never have I ever
felt quite fulfilled
though maybe such things are mirages,
messages to be pretty but never found or acheived,
never have I ever
believed in my self.
CP Walker Nov 2014
It's been a while,
A pause indeed, since last we spoke my friend;

How goes the trial,
Laws disagreed, hence fastly broken then.

I know such things,
Quickly stirred, and mixed up sediment;

Angrily,
The people roared, and pushed back in lament.

Though the big whigs,
Fat--content--made their choices known;

Fewer sticks,
Racks or stones, could reveal such bruises shown.

The people cried out,
Fraught with rage: no more racial sin;

And fire bout,
And rattled cage: the riots did begin.

He said she said,
Fingers stretched, and looked for victims sweet;

Burn the bed,
The whole house catched, and cooked the poor babe's feet.

Ironically,
Justice sought, the people turned to crime;

Cynically,
Fuss for not, no lesson learned with time.

How dare you
Shout out in his name, and call your actions just;

How dare you
Tout your shameful ways, for media to lust.

You think your actions
Bring him peace? His family any comfort?

Seek equality with violence
In the streets?! What fairness brings this sport?

How 'bout next time,
Before you decide, to selfishly loot and plunder...

...you take the time,
Explore these "lies," and seek lessons lying under?

Such quick default,
To mob mentality, your ignorance raced to match;

Your morals halt,
In ethical frailty, and sense replaced by the cookie-cutter batch.

And cynical,
Though I, myself, have quickly grown to be;

At least I try,
Peacefully to delve, and learn from Missouri.

Backwards still,
Our country may be, with racial issues new;

It fits the bill,
Quite obviously, as our citizens recently proved:

Really?! Oh really?!
We haven't moved forward, since race riots of the past?

How childish, how silly,
You've clearly ignored,
The equality acheived at last.

And no, of course not,
We're certainly not perfect, for bigots still surely exist;

But do you not realize,
How little you've helped, to spread love and remedy this.

Embrace peace now,
Brother, resign your anger and hatred and cynical ways;

Let's bring this country
Together again, let equality ring out the day.
Think we're acting pretty childish as a country right now.
CP Walker Jul 2014
Conflict:
The sweaty mason jar cools my right palm and stirs my head;
The smoky cigar heats my left grip and soothes my conscious.

Reflection:
Just now accepting the day that has happened on me and the events gone by;
Just now praying for her and the decision she had to make to do right by her family.

A pause:
Sip my glass, sip the stog, the spices and tingles mix and diminish;
My palate charged, I taste, breathe, and repeat.

The porch:
Comfy couch, windless night, stars come out, music is bright;
Achy pains slip away, and pleasant thoughts amass my brain.

My friends:
Scattered far and scattered wide, some fare better than others;
Different points we've reached in life, contact fades and flutters.

My wish:
I hope you all are happier than the happiest you thought you could be;
I hope you sleep better tonight than the soundest you've ever acheived;
I hope comfort finds every crevace of your soul;
I hope you keep your positive way through all life's turns and tolls.
Grateful for family and the ocean tonight.
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2018
A rose bloomed.
A poem written in buds.
It offered its arms, illiterate to whats been written.
It fell asleep. A garden in thought.
Slipping from the ledge it grew.
In REM it whispered.
Wake me when we land.
For I will have acheived my dream
Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2020
The greatest honor I have ever acheived
The privilege of carrying your heart received
Skai Aug 2014
You hate me for all the wrong reasons.
You don't even know the real story.
You're a puppet on a string,
and you can't think.

Just listen to me when I say this:
you've got the wrong information.
I didn't cause any harm.
I wasn't the source of the poems.
She found them on her own.
I do take the fault for the one poem that was about her,
but that was the only one.

Keep believing the lies that you have been told.
It's not a big deal.
I don't have to prove myself to you,
or make you believe me.

This is just a bump in the road for me,
losing you and all.

I won't be visiting your high school this year,
or years to come.
The last time you saw me is the last you'll ever see of me again.

I'm on a journey that I wish you could be apart of,
but things don't always work out that way.
I'm trying to find peace and happiness,
but that cannot be acheived just yet.

So this is a second goodbye.
I hope you get your facts straight,
realize I'm not as horrible as you think I am.
I'm the same me.
Emma Katka May 2017
honest art
that's what I wanna see
from you
from me
expectations are high
(hell, so am I)
want to be as big as my dreams
wanna flow out my creativity like a stream
make you feel like I'm make believe
(but it's only in isolation that can be acheived)
want everyone to distantly respect me
(and I wonder why I'm ******* lonely?)
I'm a contradiction
consistent and willingly
but most times without thinking...
these new lights are blinding
(not when I'm driving)
(but **** lately has been slick)
crying gets old quick
but it sure feels good
and I don't cry enough
I get told I should ...
more more more
bored bored bored
Thomas Harvey Jul 2020
I woke up this morning, turned on the news
I saw Bethel, Ohio and turned the channel it was Seattle
I belive in fighting for what you stand for
Singing the song you hold in your hand
Love and war never knew no piece
No justice can be acheived this way
If we are going to fight for this, We have to do it right

We can stand together, We can stand united
There's no reason to cast any stones
Black Lives Matter and so do the rest
This isn't no conspiracy, you can put that to the test
We'll fight for what's right, crumble what's wrong
Together we're in for the fight of our lives

We seen Martin Luther King and Ghandi beaten down and all alone
Never once did they open up to the violence eating at their soul
I belvie in the first ammedment, I believe through violence there's no peace
Look closer, can't you see we're killing eachother
Don't we know any better
We want peace and we want justice most of all
Together we can make it, come on my brother and sisters lets stand untied once and for all

We can stand together, We can stand united
There's no reason to cast any stones
Black Lives Matter and so do the rest
This isn't no consipracy, you can put that to the test
We'll fight for what's right and crumble what is wrong
Together we're in for the fight our our lives
Stephen Norton Sep 2020
Poaceae trimmed, visual satisfaction complete
Motor vehicle luxurious, lifestyle acheived
Education is priority
Knowledge is money
Smart men are debtors
Living life on lease

Remove the trees
Free shelter begets leech
One dollar, great sale
Italian man on label
Authentic, it's real

Machine pressed chicken
Premium precision cut waffles
Dark Blue Blueberries, no gradiation

The finest logos
Genuine leather
Hydration in plastic
Disposable weather

Conform, reshape, reform
Mold me into a man
Visually appealing and warm
Welcoming, lovely, and normal
Antares Cliff Feb 26
I think I resent my parents.

I dont want to say hate, it’s too strong of a word. But I dont think I can comfortably say I like who they are as people. I thought that with all the conversations I had with my mum I healed and I grew out of this. I grew up and I wasn’t the child that wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t the child that wasn’t smart enough. I wasn’t the child who wasn’t pretty enough. I thought  I grew up and achieved all of that. But from the shore, it doesn’t seem so anymore.

I think I grew up and I hid myself. I grew up and I wasn’t obligated to tell them anything anymore. I wasn’t obligated to listen and I wasn’t obligated to perform to their opinion. I think in the meantime that worked great. But looking from where I stand now, I think my parents hurt me in so many ways I didn’t even realise I was carrying with me today.

The way my parents raised me, and as they proudly claim, an 'independent' and 'critical' person. Looking on it now, I think my parents abandoned me. Their idea of creating an independent thinker was throwing me into the deep end and waiting for me to learn to swim. I suppose I did learn to swim, but I think after a while I learned to float and when you float there’s this perfect level when you’re facing the sky but your ears are underwater and you can’t hear any more. After a while of floating I realised I was tall enough to get out of the water, but not old enough to leave. So I sat there and I watched other waters, I watched my siblings learn to swim and just sat by the edge.  

I think watching how everyone else learns to swim and comparing it against the way I learned nestled something in me. I was jealous for a while, seeing how everyone else enjoyed swimming but to me it was conserving enough energy to stay afloat. But when I looked back into my own waters, and saw my parents jumping into the pool with siblings, giving them floaties and letting them hold the railing instead, that’s when the anger started to build.

And when anger comes it doesn’t leave as easily. For me, anger raised my ears out of the water and what I thought was my lack of ability to feel, to experience love, happiness, sadness and grief turned out to be my own coping mechanism of surviving the open waters my parents threw me into, instead of the chlorinated and temperature controlled waters my younger siblings got. As I was floating, it wasn’t just my hearing that I had given up, I gave up my ability to feel and replaced it with an intellectualised from of surface level emotion.

And now sitting on the shore, with my feet facing my sea and looking back at the pool my parents now prefer, I realise I am alone. And so now when they call me over to sit amongst them, to drink some tea or share their sunscreen I realise they will never know how the hurt and the damage they put into me, as independency and critical thinking.

It’s not that I’m just different and feel emotions differently. It’s not that I grew up faster than I should. Its not that i dont think i can ever learn to trust. It’s not that I didn’t have lovely sunny days on the beach my parents gave me. The hurt I carry with me is in the waves that toppled me before I could see them coming. Its the rip tides that caught me as I tried to rejoin my parents on that shore. The hurt I carry is in the waves that I tried to use to push myself back to their shores, only to reach their backs, or their calls to keep trying, and go for more!

As I watched their backs, I think that’s when I started to learn the dynamic of the people I call my family. My father only learned to be a father, as he learnt from his failure with me. And my mother? She learnt how to be herself with me, and a mother after I didn’t need one.

Raising their first child, my father took to the only authoritative figure he knew, a teacher. And so as he raised his first child, he taught her how to grow up  in the most step by step logical method he could break it down into. And as my mother raised her first child, she did so on the puppet strings of my father. And so together, as they equipped me with all the skills I would ever need to successfully pass each stage, my parents did not yet reach the understanding that a child is different to student. A child needs love, and comfort and reassurance. A child needs a place of refuge and trust she can turn to so that if swimming becomes difficult there is always a shore she is welcome to.  What my parents raised was a student, they raised me without a shore and so I became the independent and critical graduate they always envisioned.

When you think about it like that, it worked. Their parenting acheived the exact result they were after. But as the child, as I grow up I pray to never become who they were to me. I hope to be a mother who slips out the words “I love you” just accidentally instead of as a reasoning clause. I hope to be a mother who gives hugs just because and not in apology for who she was. I hope to be a mother who gets into the water and never let's go until I know for sure.

— The End —