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"achievable" poems
|**“lead into gold, good into dear, mortal into immortal” (where poems come from)”**| you charged me with crimes three times three, sorcery and witchcraft and doing god’s work plead guilty three times three not that I was successful, but a complex, candied marvelous failure not in my possession, the sorcerers spell, my dross and wordy dregs all sit sidelined, perchance perhaps, if you search with a leaden patience inhuman, you might just find a minuscule golden vein there’d unmined turning good into dear, an “anyone can do it” miracle, when you whisper with just one kiss those forever words, don’t be afraid, say it low and slow, I love you, and “I only want to be with you” and dare it to be become dear mortal into immortal, an order tall, for one knows his hiding places for all too human pockmarked weak, but having been charged and found in guilt, no one proffered evidence but they wanted a unambiguous unanimous verdict and proof is such an old fashioned truth notion happy accept your accusations and since confession is the best soul medicine, with glee, here and now reveal how immortality is achievable breathe poems  constantly instantly throughout the orifices in the skin cells and pore’d orifices you were god given; it is how we immortals communicate with what cannot be seen, yet drunken heard when spoke aloud taste the poems in and on tongues you can’t comprehend, the sounds fly skyward after infiltrating your eyes, then you can see your own immortality anointed rising all nonsense you plead, indeed, only immortals truly cherish and envy the human ability to create nonsense, the place where poems come from *******
0
Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 2:31 PM UTC
lead into gold, good into dear, mortal into immortal” (where poems come from)
|**“lead into gold, good into dear, mortal into immortal” (where poems come from)”**| you charged me with crimes three times three, sorcery and witchcraft and doing god’s work plead guilty three times three not that I was successful, but a complex, candied marvelous failure not in my possession, the sorcerers spell, my dross and wordy dregs all sit sidelined, perchance perhaps, if you search with a leaden patience inhuman, you might just find a minuscule golden vein there’d unmined turning good into dear, an “anyone can do it” miracle, when you whisper with just one kiss those forever words, don’t be afraid, say it low and slow, I love you, and “I only want to be with you” and dare it to be become dear mortal into immortal, an order tall, for one knows his hiding places for all too human pockmarked weak, but having been charged and found in guilt, no one proffered evidence but they wanted a unambiguous unanimous verdict and proof is such an old fashioned truth notion happy accept your accusations and since confession is the best soul medicine, with glee, here and now reveal how immortality is achievable breathe poems  constantly instantly throughout the orifices in the skin cells and pore’d orifices you were god given; it is how we immortals communicate with what cannot be seen, yet drunken heard when spoke aloud taste the poems in and on tongues you can’t comprehend, the sounds fly skyward after infiltrating your eyes, then you can see your own immortality anointed rising all nonsense you plead, indeed, only immortals truly cherish and envy the human ability to create nonsense, the place where poems come from *******
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43
Are you a scientist? Then why are you placing me on a slide? Who gave you permission to judge every aspect of me? Every strand of my thick hair Every scar on my leg Every less than perfect nail My flawed complexion I do my best to please you But my best is never good enough for you Because your definition of perfection Is only achievable for the gods You think that you are royalty But you are only royally despised Get away from me with those critical eyes My life is too precious to be wasted under your microscope
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Jan 22, 2012
Jan 22, 2012 at 4:17 PM UTC
Microscope
Descriptive words could not say enough, Informing you without any expectations, A simple need to express the damage, Of not meeting your qualifications. You're ignorance; both gift and curse, False belief from your deception, Subsequent pain leading to anger, Infiltrated like an infection. Valuable lessons learned from you -- Benefit of the doubt should not be given, Further regret seeped into life, Now that my demons have arisen. Plunging into bitter sweet weakness, A temptation I could not resist, Pathetic attempt at leaving flesh, As the blade split open the wrist. Consumed at my loneliest moment, Tired of giving without receiving, Defeated by my persistent demons, Manipulated by thoughts of relieving. Perception changes with reality, Enlightened by harsh, clear thoughts, A choice to no longer be controlled, Thus, the day that I fought. Strong desires to be able to forget, Lips softly speaking lies after lies, Though admittance was not achievable, The truth came from your eyes. Care was not something of existence, Simply sheets and pillows, Know that in the end it will be you, as sad as the leaves of a weeping willow.
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Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 12:17 AM UTC
Demons
On that bright day his mind was unusually calm He stopped by the beggar to offer him some alms Feeling at peace with himself without a trace of qualm He took a deep breath, with life he was coming to term. Goodness he pondered was quite an achievable feat A small spark that made him offer the old man a seat Each familiar face he smiled at such easy was to greet Inside him he grew healthier being good was great benefit. Why men suffer jealousy fight for one-upmanship Instead of trading for goodness most precious human keep Just not burn to earn his food comfort and restful sleep But live in shining goodness make life a rewarding trip. Being good with one’s own kind he felt wouldn’t do Other lives around him must kindly be treated too A crumb of bread for the street dog on its head a little pat Pints of milk and a little care for the weak and ailing cat. As he walked the road thoughts like these lighted up his face He found waiting on wayside many things begging goodness Determined he would reach them all do them a little good He sprinted along in a sprightly gait his mind in deep brood. Back home when she opened the door he gave her a broad smile She glowered a little askance for he hadn’t done it a while *What brings you this sheepish smile what for the elation? Don’t even think you can ever make on me a good impression!*
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Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 2:45 AM UTC
Goodness
Everything, is fine, it is. Fine, If I have that again, it will, make me sick It will always get stuck in my throat, I would choke. Sick, that I don't need, Don't eat. leave it out? Totally. Someone might see, know, help, me? Getting worse. Help myself. Normality, keeping things usual. Work. Pull myself together? get over it, don't be silly: That's not helpful, don’t say anything. What's happening? I've never passed out before. You in my head will you explain What to do, yes you; I'm losing, help me? see things I'm missing. Ignore. Remember being sick ? I don't want that, leave, I Need food to keep the same. Not. Change. Food others have makes me feel unwell. Don't eat. I. Tremble, consider, stare, UNABLE TO EAT MEALS, Eat: with everyone, sit, quiet, be slow, as much as possible, I will leave. At least I tried. To observing eyes. I did well? Touch leave, take leave tremble, later, maybe. No. Don't want to, yet: need to think, what I'm going to have? where I'm going to eat? you can tell me, yes, no.? Safe food list, alters, becomes not safe. It has changed, different cold. Leave it. If it's not the same, colour, shape, smell, not safe, Wait. It's on the list. Avoid it, the date is old, milkshake best. In therapy, I speak, I listen, you unravel. Best? help me? keep to timetable? Its achievable. What has really happened.? Avoid? Try? Listen. Try, try Is it fine?,  me  trying, still worried, concerned. Not what you thought (ARFID)  Michael C Crowder  September 2018
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Jan 5, 2019
Jan 5, 2019 at 11:14 AM UTC
Not what you thought
Everything, is fine, it is. Fine, If I have that again, it will, make me sick It will always get stuck in my throat, I would choke. Sick, that I don't need, Don't eat. leave it out? Totally. Someone might see, know, help, me? Getting worse. Help myself. Normality, keeping things usual. Work. Pull myself together? get over it, don't be silly: That's not helpful, don’t say anything. What's happening? I've never passed out before. You in my head will you explain What to do, yes you; I'm losing, help me? see things I'm missing. Ignore. Remember being sick ? I don't want that, leave, I Need food to keep the same. Not. Change. Food others have makes me feel unwell. Don't eat. I. Tremble, consider, stare, UNABLE TO EAT MEALS, Eat: with everyone, sit, quiet, be slow, as much as possible, I will leave. At least I tried. To observing eyes. I did well? Touch leave, take leave tremble, later, maybe. No. Don't want to, yet: need to think, what I'm going to have? where I'm going to eat? you can tell me, yes, no.? Safe food list, alters, becomes not safe. It has changed, different cold. Leave it. If it's not the same, colour, shape, smell, not safe, Wait. It's on the list. Avoid it, the date is old, milkshake best. In therapy, I speak, I listen, you unravel. Best? help me? keep to timetable? Its achievable. What has really happened.? Avoid? Try? Listen. Try, try Is it fine?,  me  trying, still worried, concerned. Not what you thought (ARFID)  Michael C Crowder  September 2018
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44
That’s what it felt like when we lost you To the complex maze that became your truth. A self-enlightened mind Impermeable to light, to touch, to time. An inner sanctum of make-believe so outrageous, so utterly unbelievable Made of illogical truths only you sought achievable. What led you to this I can only hazard a guess Was it divorce, insecurity, a lifetime feeling like you were less. Why has it come out now when time has already been the test Was it the lack of medication, a lack of rest. My brother you are wounded. Your mind an open sore. Rest your weary soul. Torture and pain no more.
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Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 10:56 AM UTC
Shattered
I stand before you, not as an expert, but as a concerned citizen. One of the four hundred thousand people who marched in the streets of New York on Sunday and the billions of others around the world who want to solve our climate crisis. As a poet, I pretend for a living. I play fictitious characters often solving fictitious problems. I believe that mankind has looked at climate change in that same way; as if it were a fiction. As if pretending that climate change wasn’t real would somehow make it go away. But I think we all know better than that now. Every week we’re seeing new and undeniable climate events, evidence that accelerated climate change is here, right now. Droughts are intensifying, our ocean’s are acidifying, with methane plumes rising up from the ocean floor. We are seeing extreme weather events and the west Antarctic and Greenland ice sheets melting at unprecedented rates decades ahead of scientific projections. The scientific community knows it. Industry knows it. Governments know it. Even the United States military knows it. The chief of the US navy’s Pacific command, Admiral Samuel Locklear recently said that climate change is our single greatest security threat. My friends, this body, perhaps more than any other gathering in human history now faces this difficult but achievable task. You can make history or you will be vilified by it. To be clear, this is not about just telling people to change lightbulbs or to buy a hybrid car. This disaster has grown beyond the choices that individuals make. This is now about our industries and our governments around the world taking decisive large-scale action. We need to put a price tag on carbon emissions and eliminate government subsidies for all oil, coal, and gas companies. We need to end the free ride that industrial polluters have been given in the name of a free market economy. They do not deserve our tax dollars, they deserve our scrutiny. For the economy itself will die if our ecosystems collapse. This is not a partisan debate, it is a human one. Clean air and a livable climate area inalienable human rights and solving this crisis is not just a question of politics. It is a question of our own survival. But now it is your turn. The time to answer humankind’s greatest challenge, is now. We beg of you to face it with courage and honesty. Thank you
0
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 6:51 AM UTC
Poets of the World Unite
I stand before you, not as an expert, but as a concerned citizen. One of the four hundred thousand people who marched in the streets of New York on Sunday and the billions of others around the world who want to solve our climate crisis. As a poet, I pretend for a living. I play fictitious characters often solving fictitious problems. I believe that mankind has looked at climate change in that same way; as if it were a fiction. As if pretending that climate change wasn’t real would somehow make it go away. But I think we all know better than that now. Every week we’re seeing new and undeniable climate events, evidence that accelerated climate change is here, right now. Droughts are intensifying, our ocean’s are acidifying, with methane plumes rising up from the ocean floor. We are seeing extreme weather events and the west Antarctic and Greenland ice sheets melting at unprecedented rates decades ahead of scientific projections. The scientific community knows it. Industry knows it. Governments know it. Even the United States military knows it. The chief of the US navy’s Pacific command, Admiral Samuel Locklear recently said that climate change is our single greatest security threat. My friends, this body, perhaps more than any other gathering in human history now faces this difficult but achievable task. You can make history or you will be vilified by it. To be clear, this is not about just telling people to change lightbulbs or to buy a hybrid car. This disaster has grown beyond the choices that individuals make. This is now about our industries and our governments around the world taking decisive large-scale action. We need to put a price tag on carbon emissions and eliminate government subsidies for all oil, coal, and gas companies. We need to end the free ride that industrial polluters have been given in the name of a free market economy. They do not deserve our tax dollars, they deserve our scrutiny. For the economy itself will die if our ecosystems collapse. This is not a partisan debate, it is a human one. Clean air and a livable climate area inalienable human rights and solving this crisis is not just a question of politics. It is a question of our own survival. But now it is your turn. The time to answer humankind’s greatest challenge, is now. We beg of you to face it with courage and honesty. Thank you
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11
there are good souls in this world shrouded in weathered skin dry and cracked with scowls hung upon their face balancing on the scars of their brow just as there are bad souls in this world hiding under plush skin their faces adorned with kind eyes and cherry red lips made for kissing or spitting with rage picture a gorgeous brunette with fair skin, bold eyebrows and her hair in a subtle yet nineteen-thirties style updo wearing a red chiffon summer dress the sun beats down on her as she glistens with light perspiration espresso in-hand cigarette in the other her pale soft skin no match for the thirty degree heat outside of this café she nonchalantly finds herself she is the epitome of carefree beauty she kicked her lovers dog outside this morning exiling him to a six hour long toilet break after she "forgot" she had let him out before leaving to go shopping whilst her feller finished his shift because the dog is old and smelly and gets almost as much attention as her she even saw his pensioner neighbour struggling to take the bins out as she walked to her car and laughed rather than help because she always thought Mary was a no good Jew she even called her Mrs. Goldstein "Have a nice day Mrs. Goldstein." but Mary's surname is Cohen picture this beautiful girl a siren leading good men astray she can get any man she wants and plucks only the finest most succulent I mean successful and well put together men from gardens of bachelors maturing in the hardships of city life she has plenty choice but she's fickle you see, her man has to be almost perfect for it to be as enjoyable as possible to watch his life unravel and unfold into everything he wanted it not to be achievable only through toxic beauty her joy is venom soaked insides of lovers caught in a sultry web of lies, ambition and *** she loves a scandal or a text sent to the wrong person and she has everything to hide but does nothing to do so she gets by just fine being beautiful and sickening and sickeningly beautiful you know the sort she is a bad, bad girl
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Feb 1, 2021
Feb 1, 2021 at 9:07 PM UTC
Good Souls and Bad Girls
there are good souls in this world shrouded in weathered skin dry and cracked with scowls hung upon their face balancing on the scars of their brow just as there are bad souls in this world hiding under plush skin their faces adorned with kind eyes and cherry red lips made for kissing or spitting with rage picture a gorgeous brunette with fair skin, bold eyebrows and her hair in a subtle yet nineteen-thirties style updo wearing a red chiffon summer dress the sun beats down on her as she glistens with light perspiration espresso in-hand cigarette in the other her pale soft skin no match for the thirty degree heat outside of this café she nonchalantly finds herself she is the epitome of carefree beauty she kicked her lovers dog outside this morning exiling him to a six hour long toilet break after she "forgot" she had let him out before leaving to go shopping whilst her feller finished his shift because the dog is old and smelly and gets almost as much attention as her she even saw his pensioner neighbour struggling to take the bins out as she walked to her car and laughed rather than help because she always thought Mary was a no good Jew she even called her Mrs. Goldstein "Have a nice day Mrs. Goldstein." but Mary's surname is Cohen picture this beautiful girl a siren leading good men astray she can get any man she wants and plucks only the finest most succulent I mean successful and well put together men from gardens of bachelors maturing in the hardships of city life she has plenty choice but she's fickle you see, her man has to be almost perfect for it to be as enjoyable as possible to watch his life unravel and unfold into everything he wanted it not to be achievable only through toxic beauty her joy is venom soaked insides of lovers caught in a sultry web of lies, ambition and *** she loves a scandal or a text sent to the wrong person and she has everything to hide but does nothing to do so she gets by just fine being beautiful and sickening and sickeningly beautiful you know the sort she is a bad, bad girl
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65
we used to take the kayak down the river behind our house to play tricks in the mud of the ******* and with more grace than I thought achievable you would cartwheel past the highway bridge that served as boundary set by our parents and you would laugh and I would laugh and the whole ******* world would laugh till dinner time when we'd trudge in mud swept and weary smiling and happy now I can't touch the ****** kayak it's overgrown with vegetation and nest to dead reptiles while older but still graceless I stand on our dock thinking about childhood seems rushed like watching from one of those cars on the bridge flashing by looking down and then backwards at two kids playing in mud you're moving into real life and me dragged not far behind I don't even know if you still remember that horrible ******* or those endless family dinners but I do and somehow we both made it you always three and a half steps ahead of me so thank you maybe you weren't so bad after all
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Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 1:15 PM UTC
Of Sister and Brother
Perfection doesn’t exist It’s a non-existing standard we can define by nothing more than our desperation and pursuit of completion It’s deluding and is painful to bare, in fact letting of go of it opens up so many pores of acceptance and contentment without hindering ones ambition of aspiration One shouldn’t go with the other Perfection is not meant to go hand in hand with ambition In fact the healthiest more achievable form of ambition is that which exist without the *********** of perfection in its walls and foundation Ambition is healthy, the idea of perfection on the other hand is dangerous and so mythological that it causes a great deal of inadequacy to those that still hold on to its empty promises. Let us produce great results, great being the profound collective exchange between good and bad, happy and sad, what is positive and what is negative These are not opposing forces, that’s what perfection has convinced us of, they are parallel systems of reality that make and break it equally, as one cannot exist without the other in specific instance Belief in perfection is as dangerous in a mentally ill person’s conviction to jump off a sky scrapper believing he can fly, it’s becomes more damaging the more we believe in it. Perfection is not peaceful it is stagnant, it’s monotonous and deceptive In fact perfection is cruel because it convinces is of a reality we seek and pursue when we can’t even imagine It has no beginning nor an ending because that’d process and progress Meaning perfection in a reality of progress never was and will never be but doesn’t want you to believe that, in fact the only thing that brought perfection into conception and gave it the nerve to even exist in our reality as the theory it exists on is the falsehood it’s made a home of in our hearts and in our souls, that’s why it’s hard to imagine but even harder to get rid of and eradicate.
0
Mar 21, 2019
Mar 21, 2019 at 4:13 AM UTC
Perfect
Perfection doesn’t exist It’s a non-existing standard we can define by nothing more than our desperation and pursuit of completion It’s deluding and is painful to bare, in fact letting of go of it opens up so many pores of acceptance and contentment without hindering ones ambition of aspiration One shouldn’t go with the other Perfection is not meant to go hand in hand with ambition In fact the healthiest more achievable form of ambition is that which exist without the *********** of perfection in its walls and foundation Ambition is healthy, the idea of perfection on the other hand is dangerous and so mythological that it causes a great deal of inadequacy to those that still hold on to its empty promises. Let us produce great results, great being the profound collective exchange between good and bad, happy and sad, what is positive and what is negative These are not opposing forces, that’s what perfection has convinced us of, they are parallel systems of reality that make and break it equally, as one cannot exist without the other in specific instance Belief in perfection is as dangerous in a mentally ill person’s conviction to jump off a sky scrapper believing he can fly, it’s becomes more damaging the more we believe in it. Perfection is not peaceful it is stagnant, it’s monotonous and deceptive In fact perfection is cruel because it convinces is of a reality we seek and pursue when we can’t even imagine It has no beginning nor an ending because that’d process and progress Meaning perfection in a reality of progress never was and will never be but doesn’t want you to believe that, in fact the only thing that brought perfection into conception and gave it the nerve to even exist in our reality as the theory it exists on is the falsehood it’s made a home of in our hearts and in our souls, that’s why it’s hard to imagine but even harder to get rid of and eradicate.
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14
Do you ever wonder- How can I live my American dream? Does paying for college seem daunting? Are you trying to find equality through education? In the Land of the Free all these dreams are achievable! No more inequality at the work place. No more inability to change social classes. No more worrying about being helpless with your future. No more wondering how you’re going to pay for college. Because now you’re education is only X- a sign here X- an intitial there X- pay this interest then X- increasing at that rate See it’s not that hard! And you’re gaining you’re equality- I mean education Right? You’re choosing you’re future- I mean major Right? You’re getting that subsudized- I mean unsubsudized loan Right? You’re happily ever after... An offer this good who could say no?
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May 3, 2013
May 3, 2013 at 11:43 PM UTC
Trump
When the city lights are too bright Does it leave any room for the sun to rise? Feed your fields from the fluorescent lamp. I sit at my desk, do only as I’m told. The teachers drone And it would seem I have no future Because I take interest in nothing I don’t like to read and math is just too hard. My mind moves too quick for my eyes, for my fingers to move across the lines of text, but my lips and hands say anything and everything that needs to be said. I don’t know that knowledge they preach Pick up your pencils, read the prompt quickly but carefully, and you may begin. Tell me of you future What are your dreams Dream big! The sky is the limit but remember the sky is only just above your head... You may grow you may flourish, be all that you can be but know that you can only be you and you are not so big so tall so brilliant as those that walk above you. I want to be a firemen, an astronaut, a police officer, and a cowboy. She wants to be a nurse, a weather reporter, a vet, and a gold medalist. But they say these are a fools dreams. That I can only go as far as my legs will stretch and will never make it past the threshold of achievable, and my hands can only hold onto what my fingers are long enough to wrap around. There are shackles in that school. They teach me that I can do anything and everything that my heart desires... As long as I desire what they’ve placed in front of me. Pay no mind to that other shade of green. Follow suit, fall in line Put your pencils down Your time is up Hand your papers to the person sitting in front of you and remain silent for the remainder of the class.
0
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 4:46 AM UTC
The Curriculum is Wack
When the city lights are too bright Does it leave any room for the sun to rise? Feed your fields from the fluorescent lamp. I sit at my desk, do only as I’m told. The teachers drone And it would seem I have no future Because I take interest in nothing I don’t like to read and math is just too hard. My mind moves too quick for my eyes, for my fingers to move across the lines of text, but my lips and hands say anything and everything that needs to be said. I don’t know that knowledge they preach Pick up your pencils, read the prompt quickly but carefully, and you may begin. Tell me of you future What are your dreams Dream big! The sky is the limit but remember the sky is only just above your head... You may grow you may flourish, be all that you can be but know that you can only be you and you are not so big so tall so brilliant as those that walk above you. I want to be a firemen, an astronaut, a police officer, and a cowboy. She wants to be a nurse, a weather reporter, a vet, and a gold medalist. But they say these are a fools dreams. That I can only go as far as my legs will stretch and will never make it past the threshold of achievable, and my hands can only hold onto what my fingers are long enough to wrap around. There are shackles in that school. They teach me that I can do anything and everything that my heart desires... As long as I desire what they’ve placed in front of me. Pay no mind to that other shade of green. Follow suit, fall in line Put your pencils down Your time is up Hand your papers to the person sitting in front of you and remain silent for the remainder of the class.
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30
That’s all it takes Just one step. Nothing more. Nothing less. Yet I stand frozen Unwilling to move. He calls my name. Offers a hand but I still remain At the bottom of this stairway to the unknown. People come and go Some taking that fateful step Others turning the other way. If I could only ask those who had the faith, Was it worth it? Is whatever awaits at the top worth all of this? Should I just go back the way I came? Even after my pain and suffering He wants me with Him at the top. Can’t he see me in my disbelief? In my shame? Surely I do not belong there. Still he beckons me on with his simple request. To take an impossible step. The path is steep. Narrow. Daunting in every way. It’s impossible…isn’t it? What if I stumble? Fall? I couldn’t possibly get back up. Maybe it’s best to stay where it’s safe Secure and protected and predictable. “Just one step.” All He asks of me Simple and complex at the same time. A leap of faith, they call it. Perhaps He isn’t crazy, but sincere. I can do one step, can’t I? So I take His hand in mine. He doesn’t pull me forward Doesn’t say a thing Offers only a smile The climb doesn’t seem so far anymore Achievable. Freeing. Even close. Faith is a difficult thing, but all it takes Is a single step. A step I’m finally willing to take.
0
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 4:45 PM UTC
The Staircase
Just like an addiction The need for a fix controls The line between 'need' and 'want' blurs, more often than a clock ticks. The quest for the dream is a time consuming process Unknown obstacles will discourage, Past experiences shall hinder, Repressed emotion comes to the forefront of your mind, Blinded. Opportunities pass you by. Yet the quest for the dream stays strong Battling through blockades Climbing over walls Stumbling on rubble Always regaining the ability to stand tall The quest for the dream is a endurance race Nearing your goal, with the final onslaught to endure and the last hurdle to leap Persistence is to be used in excess And you've risen from the deep. The quest for the dream is a time consuming process So stay strong, and stand up tall against whatever comes your way. Our dreams are achievable.
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Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 6:54 AM UTC
Quest for the dream
Whatever success you seek? It takes determination. Whatever goal you set? It's achievable. Failure's not an option. Your strength is in shooting for the top. And not being stopped. Not willing to give up. Failure's just not an option. The mind of positive thinking lies in you believing. And you succeeding. Even giving your best is a personal confession to win. Cause failure's not an option. Shouldn't be. Yes, just shouldn't be.
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Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 9:20 AM UTC
Failure's Not An Option
"You're not confident. That's what makes you unattractive" Well ********* I tried to be But somehow confidence is not achievable with a big body Did I have "low self esteem" written on my forehead? What made you think it was okay for you to criticize me? The love I had to give was endless And it wasn't skin-deep like yours I mean, it wouldn't have lasted if it was... You weren't exactly a looker I had a big heart, but maybe big hearts only come in big bodies
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Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 2:01 AM UTC
big body, big heart
Lost Soul, Not Searching Looking for immediate relief To cure you for the moment Of your inner grief Quick high, no time to cry numb, false happiness takes over Everything looks good When you're climbing the white cliffs of Dover Sadness hidden, mask protecting Could be anyone inside True identities gone for the moment White blanket does so well to hide Talk about the impossible Everything seems so clear no sign of darkness only the light is near Everything is achievable today But what about tomorrow? Start descending, blanket lifted here comes the sorrow The mask of reality hits Starkness is a dampener Mood sets in Lost feeling returned, positivity is hampered The possible now seems unachievable This day now unmanageable Light dims, darkness returns Nothing seems obtainable Not coping, Once again choosing the direction of oblivion Where all seems well No one can tell That internally you are struggling
0
Jan 20, 2011
Jan 20, 2011 at 11:59 AM UTC
******* Heights
I am coming to the end of a road many have travelled upon Hardly beginning to fathom the magnitude of what’s to come It feels like I’m waking up at the brink of dawn Unsure of the day which has yet to arrive. The final semester of a twelve-year journey I remember a time when I didn’t want to think of the future But now with the future close enough to see I realize that my confidence is not as pure It’s easy to think of what you’re going to do when you graduate Talking is easy What about when it actually happens? Most people like to talk about being a daredevil, but hardly ever do it. Graduation is like my daredevil moment It’s like I’m jumping out of a plane without a parachute And I don’t know where I’m going to land or what I’m going to do when I land And all I have to guide me is my head and my own two hands. I’ve always had a plan in life I’ve always known what I wanted to be But why is it when the opportunity is in my face That I am cowering under the idea? Why is it that the boldness I once had Has turned into fear? Why is it that the person I wanted to be come No longer feels achievable in my head? Maybe I’m just in shock Graduation is nearly here All I can do now is watch the clock As the time grows near.
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Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 12:54 AM UTC
My Daredevil Moment
Happiness is achievable for some, and unattainable for others. Stuck in the rolls of society, following the footsteps of their mothers. I wish they would break free, instead of getting smothered. -nk
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Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 7:26 PM UTC
Open Your Eyes
Depression had been my companion for a while, I felt trapped in a body wracked with pain. My heart was heavy. I saw her running down the isle of the supermarket, All of three years old, golden curls billowing behind, A look of pure joy on her face, An angel straight from heaven right in our midst. Her mother walked behind, Lines of care and tension etching her face. I saw she was living in a world of struggle and turmoil. "Glenda" she called, "How many times have I told you not to do that". Her hand spun out -- she gave the child a whack. I saw surprise and a veil dull the eyes That a moment ago were so alive. "Don't ever do that again." she slowly said. For one moment I remembered what it felt like to be so free, For in that child I saw me. I remembered how it felt to have a heart that had no boundary, To have a body light as can be. When was I told not to be me? I wanted to say "Dear child don't let that experience deter you Remember who you really are. Always remember that feeling of freedom that surrounds you. Dont forget who you really are And never be afraid to be who you are." Stay open and remember where you were Before you even arrived here on earth You come from a place of rainbows, butterflies and angels, A place where everything is possible and achievable A place where miracles happen And a place where there is only love Reach for the moon, reach for the stars You are a light sent from afar
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Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 8:36 AM UTC
You are a light sent from afar
upon request, first coffee served in China teacup, chocolate chip biscuit snuggling tween saucer and cup, probing warming proof that, Philosophia Sensibus Demonstrata, (philosophy demonstrated by the senses), achievable, realizable, and civilizing, my left foot now smiling, my divas singing me to places where the headlines disappear...
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Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 9:10 AM UTC
Civilizing
*Brilliance is an achievable recognition. Quad cores, of the brain processing, Relevant understandings, Breathing with good intentions, And at the same time, Being the person, of who you are. Sometimes we find ourselves, Down a road, with additional baggage, And hours of not wanting to feel hurt again. We realize why we fell. And how to avoid that type of fall again. That is, until all falls are counted for. Greatness, Is when, In a given moment, Your crafts alter time & destiny. Leaving some type of brilliance, In it's, clearing, edgy smoke. Who we become emerges through sight, & the next journey, was the answer.*
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Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 1:11 PM UTC
"Brilliance"
Jealousy, a final decree. Admittedly a fallacy submitted formidably... impervious? She'll move onto sea. Move on from those who can't see. They'll show us what it means to see. Presently a mistaken alignment of aliment, yet so indicative of the deceptive. An intervention of emancipation requires degradation of the love that relegates, brainless. Vindictive of the culture, fault, to penance, too addicted. Somehow she heads an isle of the vile whom are consumed by denial. Normality brushed aside with the hand whom highlights brushed, melting eyes. Life, an achievable yet inconceivable lie shrouded by personality. Subjective to the respective hospitality. "Aint no love for thee..."
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Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 2:25 PM UTC
"Aint' no love..."
A Quiet Heart Just want contentment. Stop feeling resentment. Don’t even want to be happy. No platitudes that are corny and sappy. Need to feel a love. For myself and from Someone above. Need a purpose, a direction. A path made by me without outside protection. No one to shelter me from the evils of the world. Need to be brave, my strengths wanting to be unfurled. Tired of existing in this world just to breathe. Tired of feeling hopeless. I want to believe. Need a reason to exist and to strive for an achievable goal. A special woman is ready to climb out of this hole. Is there a place in this world where I can be happy and free? A space on this earth where I can be just Me!
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Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 8:32 AM UTC
A Quiet Heart