"affairs" poems
You are like the rarest of metals,
found on Mars.
Bright green and deep purple
Like the most beautiful stars.
The boring affairs on planet Earth,
Left far behind.
Always moving our perception,
changing our states of mind.
Like all lovers,
we pretend the galaxy moves around us.
I'm Homerus and you be my Venus.
Loving you makes inspiration easy,
Maybe thats why i had to write something cheesy.
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 2:58 PM UTC
When the boy said.
"I love you"
I nearly wept the tears which have been filling since the last one left,
Unsure of my feelings I turn away and look to the ground,
Searching,
For something,
To distract myself,
I see the garbage, with the used wrappers from our affairs,
Wondering, maybe that's why,
Because why would a boy love me for any other reason but my body?
Because I have been taught to beware those three words,
For those are the words which are spoken when he wants more,
More than your touch,
Or cress,
But your lips,
His, on you hips,
For when the boy said "I love you"
I was confused and concerned,
Because why would he,
Could he,
Love someone like me.
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 11:23 PM UTC
I have crushes
because I am unable
to commit.
I can pick up affairs
and when I'm tired,
I quit.
I have crushes
because I am an obessessive
romancer.
I am infected with lust
which always spread
like cancer.
I have crushes
because I have yet
to fall in love
yet lucky enough
to have my heart
broke into two.
I could never love you wholly
this is why I 'crush' on you.
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 4:36 PM UTC
talkshows and the yellow press
get excited in excess
over his shenanigans
that delight his faithful fans
rumors of these *** affairs
strong words for all macho players
in the game of social thrones
texts with threatening undertones
for minorities and women
treating immigrants like demons
neither fans nor his opponents
seem to notice the components
of the white house strategy
throw them bones
fodder for the yellow press
and while they fight
clandestinely out of sight
works the Trumpian policy
money laundering blatant lies
scolding allies breaking ties
adoring foes praising those
usurpers of democracies
experts in atrocities
slowly yet persistently
undermine civility
with foul language
fill all courts with servile judges
court the aristocracies
of oil sheikdoms in the East
praising communist dictators
who have helped him build his towers
step by step he‘s leading US
from the groups of international powers
to an isolation desert
at the margins of the world
slogans we have rarely heard
over decades
now re-nourished
twittered with presidential flourish
make America small again
warning voices call in vain
no wonder the statue of liberty
is hiding her face in misery (*)
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 5:24 PM UTC
Silently I cry hoping no one hears
Secretly caring for another in love's affairs
Experiencing love's worst of weapons
Heartbreak ominously beckons
Silently tears fall as I lie alone
On the bathroom floor unbeknown
For there are no more words, no more lies
Only a silent tear that never dries
Silently I cry with images of his face
Dimpled cheeks, his kiss and warm embrace
Hopelessness ensues for the way he held me tight
Remembering he's with her tonight
I lay in bed at night beside the one I'm bound
Holding my breath as tears compound
Feeling the love I once gave and then knew
All the while he's with someone new
Silently shedding tears as my life takes its toll
Killing my very essence, my mind, body and soul
Hearing the words, feeling the crippling pain
A lover's secret inevitably ends in vain
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 3:23 PM UTC
Being your slave, what should I do but tend
Upon the hours and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend,
Nor services to do, till you require.
Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour,
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour
When you have bid your servant once adieu.
Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But, like a sad slave, stay and think of naught
Save where you are, how happy you make those.
So true a fool is love that in your will,
Though you do any thing, he thinks no ill.
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You weren’t worth the
Hundred dollars it cost to
Keep you in my car.
Princess got poached by the
League of Losers with Pedestrian Ideals.
I’d spit venom in your direction, if
Poison meant anything to you. But
Akin to most things, so sub-human,
You miss the world moving around your
Ever pulsating veins, and repel these
Toxins with a slip of the tongue.
Around you I could line
Bodies of those you’d loved and left.
Each clasping hands with one another,
Privy to a specific type of pain, only you can
Deal out. And
In the center of the circle you’d
Stare, stunned by your state of
Affairs, and flings. Collectively concerned
For the safety of your
Rotting consciousness.
One by one, I could set these men
On fire, and hand you a place
Where your head could be danced off.
Drunken and diving heart-first into
The burning lake of a
Surfable crowd. Since that’s
All we are, serfs.
I hope the fire gets too close to your
Gorgeous face. I hope the
Love you receive is no more likable
Than a few more licks from the flames.
The scars couldn’t sideline you.
No one can stop ****
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 1:42 PM UTC
Never noticed me
Under her pink dye
And thick thighs.
Never noticed me
In others eyes,
In others lies.
Didn’t notice me
Sinking in
And taking name.
A kiss on the neck
And I’m to blame.
Didn’t notice me
Notice her,
The other one
With darker fur.
I feel like a kid again,
The butterflies
In my stomach
And on my face
Give way to
Nails on my neck
And choke
That I can taste.
I drink to
Blue eyes
And costly affairs.
The timid blonde
That broke silence
Now laughs at me
With a stare.
“Smile,” she says.
Mar 14, 2010
Mar 14, 2010 at 2:30 PM UTC
#*It is not the nature of things or people to satisfy us
but rather to awaken in us the desire to be satisfied.
When we seek our hearts' pleasures in temporal affairs
our joy easily fades for only delight in the Eternal
cannot be tarnished, broken, stolen or lost.
If we fail to learn the secrets of uncovering joy in loss
then we risk being driven to despair or bitterness or insanity
in this world which is so full of sorrow.
For all of this Earth’s wonder and beauty and blessings
it's only meant to serve as a great cosmic magnet pulling us to our Source.
One true glimpse of Him would cause us to never cast another glance
at any created thing and think it might satisfy.
Lord Jesus, give us eyes to see that You Yourself and You alone
are the bread and water which our souls so desperately crave.
Teach us to hungrily partake from Your own hand, O God.
May every scent and song, every shadow and sorrow
only call us closer to You.*#
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 10:39 AM UTC
I am Christian. I believe in the
Trinity of the Holy God, The Son, and The Spirit,
I believe that Jesus is the Son of God and the savior of mankind
I own more than three Bibles
I teach Sunday School every week and
I pray every night.
I am Christian,
And as such I
Hate queer....
Phobia. I can not stand intolerance
And I cry at hatred,
Blood running in the streets,
Fear running in veins,
Running away from the truth.
I am Christian, yet
There are bloodstains in my Bible
And the prayers on my lips
Are for forgiveness for who I am.
The entire story of ***** is
Crossed out, blacked out angrily
In the dead of night
In all 4 versions,
Leviticus is blurred,
Wrinkled with my tears,
Soaked with my pain.
I am Christian
And I am not homophobic.
I know my church won't recognize
Non cis-het marriages,
Leaving entire worlds of rainbows in the dark
The higher-ups insist
Weddings are white, shiny, husband-and-wife, happily-ever-after affairs
That shove me and my friends, my family, my lovers,
Into closets of heavenly wrath and
Fire and brimstone sermons,
Locked into personal hells of shame
And confusion.
I am Christian
And I am not straight.
My God doesn't hate me for who I love,
He loves me because I try not to hate.
So to the homophobic Christians, I ask:
Who is your God?
Who is your God that supposedly condemns people He has created in his own image?
Your rainbow picket signs are nothing but a cruel mockery of a covenant
Not truly shared by you.
Your tongues are no better than the viper's who called Adam and Eve to sin,
You are the vipers of my world.
Do you think you avoid judgement
When trans teens are killed
By the bullets you spit with your words?
Who is your God,
That tells you to picket the funerals
Of those you hate?
Who is your God,
That refuses to let you open your heart to differentness?
I am Christian,
And I don't need your permission to
Love my God.
Take my scars and tear-stained Bibles,
Listen to my fervent prayers,
Watch my lips tremble when
I listen to my pastor.
I don't need your permission
To love who I want,
In fact I don't want it.
Take my midnight screaming and fear of coming out,
Listen to my frantic pleading for a hand to hold,
Watch my eyes linger on her chest.
I am Christian.
My God doesn't hate me for who I love,
He hates you who refuse to love
While you carry His name, if
Not his blessing.
So I ask again
Who is your God?
Because mine loves all of me,
All 5'6" of queer pride.
Who is your God?
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 12:05 AM UTC
An introvert
become an extrovert
called Scientists
an extrovert
becomes an introvert
called Saint
an introvert
always an introvert
in marriage
an extrovert
always an extrovert
in Politics
an introvert
become an extrovert
during ***
an extrovert
become an introvert
during affairs
Dec 28, 2017
Dec 28, 2017 at 9:21 PM UTC
¤¤¤
I've had dreams by day
That brought the nightmares back.
In the daylights exposure it was dark
When the negative light was bright.
In the sea of people
I was the floating remains
Of a Great White's meal.
On the lonely roads of thought
My mind was in gridlock.
Comforting memories were suspended
Over a psychic black hole
By jagged and rusted
Medieval-type surgical tools.
My remaining senses
Were nailed to a cross-section
Of psychically atrophied grey matter
Along neural pathways
Guarded by gladiator-type tormentors.
Left with nothing
But the stinging desire to be freed
From a curse that had to be cured
And the hell of searching for a cure
When I was convinced there wasn’t one.
The powers that be come with force
To quell primal lusts & desires
Forbidding you of them
As they seductively
Dangle them before your eyes
Until you are so frustrated and unfulfilled
That you no longer
Care for your world.
This cracked glass remains empty
Even though it is constantly being filled
Then spilled or leaked on the floor
Until you learn to lap it up
Like the lapdog that you have become
For their amusement.
You remain with a love for freedom
But your cage is so large
That you think you are free
Lost in societal fantasy.
You think for a while
That these fantasies are real
Until you come to your senses that aren’t
As you join other fools
In comfort that you're not the only
Broken-back pack-mule.
But in spite of it all
And in the face of them all
Don't let these birds of prey
And powers that be
Deprive you of what they
cannot see
In that hidden corner
Of what is still untouched--
The real you
Uninfected by the world.
Take care of your spiritual affairs.
Don't let the global beast
And your primal hissing forces
Make you be your own pallbearer.
Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 6:28 PM UTC
My house is buried in the deepest recess of the forest
Every year, ivy vines grow longer than the year before.
Undisturbed by the affairs of the world I live at ease,
Woodmen’s singing rarely reaching me through the trees.
While the sun stays in the sky, I mend my torn clothes
And facing the moon, I read holy texts aloud to myself.
Let me drop a word of advice for believers of my faith.
To enjoy life’s immensity, you do not need many things.
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The fault of our reality is not written in our stars
And it will not dance across unfavorable constellations,
Or dissolve into inconsolable fragments.
The fault, my love, is not written in our stars.
It is written in ourselves.
But how fortunate would it be?
To cast the providence of our unlucky affairs
Into the gloomy twilight,
Where the sky is so unilluminated
That we could close our restful eyes
And fathom a world where it does not exist?
But the fault, my love, is not written in our stars.
It is written in ourselves.
We are heavily folded sheets of stationary:
A collection of utterances
Bound into melancholy novels
By our mangled hearts,
And though spoken words
Still fall onto my turning pages
As tears do fall from my reddened cheeks,
I have yet to forget
The chapter you have left unwritten,
Because an unwritten chapter is one to be adorned:
It cannot end
For it does not exist.
And so we fumble through an amorous affliction,
Fabricated into a bittersweet infinity.
And at midnight,
When my restless fingers
***** the empty air for you,
And the reality of our desolate fault
Seeps into my hands,
I wish you were here.
But the fault, my love, is not written in our stars.
It is written in ourselves.
j.s.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 3:28 AM UTC
Everlasting love is a commitment Ref 008
Everlasting love is a commitment.
Virtual reality cannot ever compare
Everlasting reality is my love for you
Reality that continues unabated
Longer than affairs of the heart
As my darling I know you by heart
Since the first Happy days meeting
The first day of the rest of my life
I discovered an everlasting love
Not withstanding your aloof brow
Golden are the moments shared
Love's unconditional commitment
Only true lovers understand it .
Very close encounters promote it
Especially within thy noble form
I love you so much my Barbara
So much once to inspire my mind
As constant is my wish to praise
Composing lines of loving prose
On each and every living day.
My mind races with the inspiration
Mastering words of literary giants
In songs of praise dedicated to thee
Then understand my commitment
My commitment ,to my darling girl
Everlasting love is my commitment
Not just for now but forever always
Thank you for our life commitment
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Philip.
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 5:29 AM UTC
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Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 2:54 AM UTC
Education is the ladder.
Education is the key.
Education is the mother of success.
Education is the process of receiving or giving systematic instruction.
Enlightening experience of learners.
Learners stop making teachers lose the war of education because of being distracted by the social world.
Boys stop believing in drugs and alcohol because alcohol is an intoxicating drink that slow down and depressing the brain.
Girls stop believing in affairs and believe in education because your certificates will never leave you but boys can leave you and left you with gift of tears in your back.
Study hard because time wasted never regain.
When you are willing to learn you will stay humble and be the good coach to your friends.
Principal words
Time is money if you are wasting your own time you are wasting your own money.
Remember perseverance is the mother of success.
Education is the key .
Education is the ladder.
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 1:25 PM UTC
She wants to become a girl again,
After two divorces, three kids and
pieces of heart blended
into the uneven daily affairs.
She wishes to be innocent once more.
To see the sky through her amber eyes;
To laugh carelessly down a penniless neighborhood;
To recollect the fragrant things she holds dear.
Where is the Anne of Green Gables?
Where is the Alice in Wonderland?
Where are Jo, Meg, Beth, and Amy?
Where did the flowers go to die.
She tells me she misses all the sunrise,
Gazing into a blue sunset,
The cooking that tastes no longer loving,
The perfume that smells no longer happy,
The loneliness that is no longer heroic.
She carries on, with her broken wings,
and the birth of a woman's concrete essence.
Aug 15, 2017
Aug 15, 2017 at 1:28 PM UTC
Authors and actors and artists and such
Never know nothing, and never know much.
Sculptors and singers and those of their kidney
Tell their affairs from Seattle to Sydney.
Playwrights and poets and such horses' necks
Start off from anywhere, end up at ***
Diarists, critics, and similar roe
Never say nothing, and never say no.
People Who Do Things exceed my endurance;
God, for a man that solicits insurance!
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The way he mouths her name
His precise tone and articulation
sends her crazed and off the edge
a bliss with no resuscitation
Exploring every inch with callused touch and hesitation
Whispered moans in exclamations
His kiss. His body. Her adoration
They build their high in accumulation
Released in sync, their exhilaration
Silent physical communication
Coming down with slow deceleration
They meet eyes and mouths in gratification
to slowly fall in reveries
from their affair and liberation
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 12:49 PM UTC
Lack of money is lack of friends; if you have money at your disposal, every dog and goat will claim to be related to you. ~ Yoruba
War has no eyes ~ Swahili saying
There can be no peace without understanding. ~Senegalese proverb
A leader who does not take advice is not a leader. ~ Kenyan proverb
If there is character, ugliness becomes beauty; if there is none, beauty becomes ugliness. ~Nigerian Proverb
Unity is strength, division is weakness. ~ Swahili proverb
Wisdom does not come overnight. ~ Somali proverb
Knowledge without wisdom is like water in the sand. ~ Guinean proverb
Home affairs are not talked about on the public square. ~ African proverb
Show me your friend and I will show you your character. ~ African proverb
Make some money but don’t let money make you. ~ Tanzania
When you are rich, you are hated; when you are poor, you are despised. - African proverb
A man who uses force is afraid of reasoning. ~Kenyan proverb
Traveling is learning. ~Kenyan Proverb
What you learn is what you die with. ~ African proverb
He who is destined for power does not have to fight for it. ~ Ugandan proverb
It takes a village to raise a child. ~ African proverb
Poverty is slavery. ~Somalia
The wealth which enslaves the owner isn’t wealth. ~ Yoruba
Much wealth brings many enemies. – Swahili
You are beautiful, but learn to work, for you cannot eat your beauty. ~Congolese Proverb
A pretty face and fine clothes do not make character. ~Congolese Proverb
Show me your friend and I will show you your character. ~ African proverb
A close friend can become a close enemy.~ African proverb
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 5:41 PM UTC
I definitely won’t make any apologies for saying this
and if anyone isn't careful she’ll leave them in a ditch.
But don't get me wrong, I am not referring to any woman by that name
only to the powers of deception that are played within the devil's game.
When you consider how much trouble she has caused;
without a moment’s lapse or of one repentant paused,
in human affairs over the years since the advent of man;
it’s a wonder that she hasn’t yet been flushed in the pan.
In case you might just be wondering what I’m talking about
Maya is the female equivalent of Satan who is a **** lout,
and who plays around deceiving anyone that ignores the Truth
which has been ingrained in our mind and heart since our youth.
In fact anything that is Divine, noble, good and of inestimable worth
Maya will try to turn it around into a thing seeming of much less birth.
She thus plays around with our emotions causing one to doubt and fear
where the reality of a situation would be to have faith and some cheer.
Her main battle is waged within a vulnerable human heart and mind
especially when an individual is undergoing difficulties of any kind.
She is also the one who arouses anger, jealousy, lust, greed and pride,
being full of all those traits herself and more she projects them outside.
We must try and be aware of the extent of her subtle delusion
and escape any entanglement in the net of her worldly illusion;
that so many people are now caught up in without their real knowing
not realising that Love and Truth are the things most worth showing.
______________________________
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 2:18 AM UTC
Overcome -- O bitter sweetness,
Inhabitant of the soft cheek of a girl --
The rich man and his affairs,
The fat flocks and the fields' fatness,
Mariners, rough harvesters;
Overcome Gods upon Parnassus;
Overcome the Empyrean; hurl
Heaven and Earth out of their places,
That in the Same calamity
Brother and brother, friend and friend,
Family and family,
City and city may contend,
By that great glory driven wild.
Pray I will and sing I must,
And yet I weep -- Oedipus' child
Descends into the loveless dust.
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Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 8:30 AM UTC
how far must she travel
to rediscover
her purpose
her purpose
what a preposterous concept
neither rest nor return
are purpose
neither love nor hate
are purpose
neither this nor that
so then what
what is it
what is the answer
to this unquantifiable question
perhaps it rests
in the caverns of her dreams
in the caverns of her subconscious
synesthetic
mind
seeing colors for numbers
and mango puddles in the rain
it was always her imaginative spirit
that activated her forehead
which wrinkled with the tides of
hurt pain sadness glory god
and she was told
to soften that sternness
soften it until she was nonexistent
but instead she asked
what are these things
what are their purpose
besides drinking foreheads and wringing potential
and piping out excuses for this and for that
for crimson activities and
claret affairs
Apr 14, 2018
Apr 14, 2018 at 8:28 PM UTC