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"answerless" poems
To me, I see Further than he, but he, Sees his own seas; Soft, innocent fleece Circled under a veil Of creativity, sets sail, Wondered aimlessly, but well, An answerless well, you fell
0
Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 3:58 AM UTC
Vanity Tidal Waves
Hellfire do not go out! Please just stay as you are Once in the flames I wander through an answerless world All the embers burning all the people are turning, trying to get away.. Hellfire do not go out! Please just stay as you are No matter how much they walk, no matter how far... In the end they are consumed by these merciless flames Burnt away, until not even their names, Are remembered here, in this world full of shames As the fire burns I ask myself wether this is a nightmare or not And as it consumes my very soul and makes me then rot I begin to then understand my very purpose, my destiny Just being fuel for that fire to burn is what was planned for me Oh Hellfire, will you go out ? No, once you are about to go out, you just keep roaring loud Come back hotter, more painful than I can take My body is burning up, I think my mind is going to break And as this torture goes on I wished I would be gone ~ Umi
0
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 5:49 PM UTC
Hellfire (2)
herein lies common fault - loosely hanging on a speculative conjecture      than exact detail. mind's prison- asylum. you go in to see furtive showcases of the many names walking without faces. you went in without invitation. only or abstract solicitation. there is something that sinks deeper than marrow, blows colder than December winnow, something that burgeons beyond naked sense. inside this lair, conflated you are with bent question marks to their distinct, curved smallnesses. you peek into the window of my eyes and inside this airless vault, we are both heavy with staring at each other dripping and bare-all, yet this rigmarole of eyes contain their visceral silences still. i stripped them all of their voices and they only look at each other with onerous eyes, pondering about their places, answerless and just whirling in capacitous space --
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Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 3:50 AM UTC
Kafka
Lost;          stuck Free me    shackles wrapped    clenched suffocating not even near          but far drive away    rearview mirror, you wash away   I waved farewell spinning                   turning                                  endless fly and.                         go.                                get. you ask me why       or how answerless I remain. putting the pieces          together and          apart Riddles;                   I solve, Let myself know myself But fearing   questions’ answer for knowledge       Knowing knowledge Knows no bounds. Sometimes there are       tears but smiling       floating mysteries       solved slowly simply   unraveled and still shackled but breaking       free And one day I will be                                           in the sky, wings spread           to sunset: I’ve found it.
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Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 7:45 PM UTC
Shackles
By the soul, it's order and poportion given to it. The animals come in many kinds, lethal, beautiful as they too wander upon an answerless world while following their instincts. But who said that animals could not feel, despite being bounded to them ? They too understand the meaning of passion, love, affection and loss. And each of them differs from one another, even if it may be just as much as the size of an ant compared to a corn of sand. Their very desire is too, to stay alive, even if they appear to be cruel towards one another at times, they cannot be judged by us for such deeds, as they only follow their intentions, their instinct and proportion, without showing much signs of selfawareness at times. Thus I engage myself in a request towards them, for our society begins to forget one simple thing... In a distant time, I desire them to teach us how to feel, as they care more for one another than we tend to, in such a busy, connected, hasty world where success has taken almost the best of us. If I here that the nature has come to pine for us, I would want to return to it. ~ Umi
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Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 1:37 AM UTC
The Animals
Coyote’s  mournful  cries  echo  across   the  bitter  frozen  wintry  darkness A deepening silence thrums as loudly as the echoes the unanswered bays Snowflakes mute the fading wails coyote’s softly questioning appeals An eerie answerless hush echoes                                   through the boughs, writhing  in the  piercing frigid                                    wildwood blackness The howling east wind gathers in the throes of the lonely bespoken pleas Carrying the weight borne a bone chilling silent ache, beyond with the frozen autumn leaves                                                  wild is the wind ... December 8th, 2016
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Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 10:49 AM UTC
In the throes of Coyote's lonely bespoken pleas
a music box of magic words of circuses, gruesome murders and monsters a mad logic of connected disconnected things held together by the drifting mists of dreams first air and rainbows destroying pious falsities, telling new tales of many things to come, flying above the crowd showing the blinding white distance ahead of the two ice capped poles past he various categories like old people who die when the weather turns yet there is a desire to summon and expect disaster you've seen the show, blinding like the sun on water matched only by the patience of the floating fall of a ladies silk stocking a music box that looks immensely vindicated and in those precious seconds, these busy seconds that mumble and murmur to themselves of divine and temporal forces tastes the whiff of immorality that possesses that special skin that cruelty of countless acquisitions of alchemy especially its capacity to coach sorrow to teach it to touch the regurgitated inaccuracies of indentured truth ah! the music box who returns the echoing roar of answerless answers with questionable questions yet inoculated and protected by the vast pleasures that somehow conceal themselves within the music box in its rhythms and its clock-work metal innards cancel out any pain and the half closed eyes that stop the heart shatter the sky shower with an avalanche of magnetic attraction the magic music box, the magic music box Pandora's magic music box
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Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 10:55 AM UTC
a music box of magic words
Did I make the right decision? Did I take the right option? Some answers we will never know, But our search for them – on it will go There comes a time when we all face a choice; A time when we’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. It seems like we’re being tossed from the frying pan into the fire, and there is no seemingly easy way out of the mire. That’s when we have to take the plunge, To make our choice and stick by it; we have to face the repercussions of our decision, And pray and hope we had the right intuition. Many a mistake will be made along the way, Far too many people hurt by what we choose; what option do we have though, that fine line, we have to toe. So on we soldier, through it all, Making our choices, living our life; We mess up, then from our mistakes we learn, and back to making choices we return.
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May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 3:07 AM UTC
Answerless Questions
Halloween Night It comes once a year Halloween Night When it's okay to fight and to fear. Witches and wizards Celebrities and cats Kids dressed as lizards **** somethings wearing hats. But what's it about What does it mean An answerless question, or so it would seem.
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Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 11:00 AM UTC
Halloween Night
Purpose Existence sought, of a shackled cyclic life Answerless, I let him rather peek, into that merry thought of mine A joyous playground and the prettiest girl of five Pink with playfulness, she and her kitten, hopping in pink joy "For her, and her blinking eyes" Sunshine he beams now, and whispers a lyric twilight For her, perpetually cast, into rising day and night That playground comes to view soothing my soul, and flooding calm strength, everytime I think of you
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Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 3:42 PM UTC
Day
era generation For your Owen preparation i got message for you nation We are not the generation You think we are For your own information I am explain to you so stop the investigation or the thing you call survey youth Stop blaming us for your destroyed imagination That got destroyed by your application These time is the time you sit your *** down listen And Stop talking of how your generation was better than these generation Let me start by saying we are The result of the combination of your fuckt up generation So forgive us if we did not respect the invention Forgive us if we did not do first the presentation **** your forgiveness Clear the board I am educate you all Since you call it education All the war decisions That cause the separations Between son and mother father daughter wife husband All the colonisations Over taking sociocultural evolution Cultural lost identities Change history even the cover of the book All cooperation and organization standing To remind us the limitation Depending of our identification That led to these civilization Answerless, ignorant, Observe but no comment Why and answer most called out vocabularies i don't know has been their most replied But they forgot they define our mind galaxy And you can’t colonies galaxies All the corrupt systems In the name of salvation All the company build for production of destruction Industries of Capitalism Creating the classes of We rule you We fool you We shoot at you We eat for you And you work and i think it said we feed you too All your fuckt up ways of your legislation, How one get up and one thrown down And we both know which one is who is asking why Which one is doing his work and sleeping in the house don’t even know what is the house made of. How to blind to the one who see Make the blind believe he can see twisted **** All the discrimination That's keeping us no elevation zoon foundation And it funny how Every time they say there a solution At same time there mission For different condition Empowering deferent situation Violation the untold and modern view of justice Justice of the peace no promise you fool us Now we are in darkness why do you look nervous **** the immigration and their regulation So my advice is Don’t **** with our reputation Because our equation is e.r generation Extend and release We gonna extended and release our creations And release with new operation Of liberation So stop ******* blaming us For our ways of adapting to observe From The system that you create to block our observation
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Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 9:12 AM UTC
i don't give a ****
era generation For your Owen preparation i got message for you nation We are not the generation You think we are For your own information I am explain to you so stop the investigation or the thing you call survey youth Stop blaming us for your destroyed imagination That got destroyed by your application These time is the time you sit your *** down listen And Stop talking of how your generation was better than these generation Let me start by saying we are The result of the combination of your fuckt up generation So forgive us if we did not respect the invention Forgive us if we did not do first the presentation **** your forgiveness Clear the board I am educate you all Since you call it education All the war decisions That cause the separations Between son and mother father daughter wife husband All the colonisations Over taking sociocultural evolution Cultural lost identities Change history even the cover of the book All cooperation and organization standing To remind us the limitation Depending of our identification That led to these civilization Answerless, ignorant, Observe but no comment Why and answer most called out vocabularies i don't know has been their most replied But they forgot they define our mind galaxy And you can’t colonies galaxies All the corrupt systems In the name of salvation All the company build for production of destruction Industries of Capitalism Creating the classes of We rule you We fool you We shoot at you We eat for you And you work and i think it said we feed you too All your fuckt up ways of your legislation, How one get up and one thrown down And we both know which one is who is asking why Which one is doing his work and sleeping in the house don’t even know what is the house made of. How to blind to the one who see Make the blind believe he can see twisted **** All the discrimination That's keeping us no elevation zoon foundation And it funny how Every time they say there a solution At same time there mission For different condition Empowering deferent situation Violation the untold and modern view of justice Justice of the peace no promise you fool us Now we are in darkness why do you look nervous **** the immigration and their regulation So my advice is Don’t **** with our reputation Because our equation is e.r generation Extend and release We gonna extended and release our creations And release with new operation Of liberation So stop ******* blaming us For our ways of adapting to observe From The system that you create to block our observation
Continue reading...
74
This heart of stone hides a dream of a god whose voice once was lost against the terrific wind. It became mutilated then swallowed by the cacophony of silence. So, answerless he slumbers now, yet still ajar for long to speak with a mortal one who would dare to call thy true name.
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May 16, 2017
May 16, 2017 at 2:52 PM UTC
Dream
whether or not we fall asleep in your bed won't cure nor break this but how sweet it would be to share the sheets, rest our minds, quicken our hearts because it's safer to be tucked away unscrutinised the ceiling sees us, we see each other it all feels right as we sleep questionless and answerless -cj
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Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 9:22 PM UTC
september mid
Pit answerless questions Against questionless answers The stuff no one mentions It just sits and it festers The best of intentions Played out by the worst actors Heathens and hellions Aren't the back stabbers ©2024
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Aug 7, 2024
Aug 7, 2024 at 7:37 PM UTC
~•§•~ Heathens & Hellions ~•§•~
It's all I can do, To drink so fast. Quickly! Forget the love I thought would last. She pined as I, Though the miles lay far, The torturing distance; left us both so apart. "When will you come?", Left answerless by me. Everything working to part us endlessly. Both left in tears, And time took its toll, Our hearts were left, with bleeding, soft holes. "I'll come back!", My vow, "But when -- and how!?" And to her, I had no assurance, Only a test of her endurance. And her heart grew impatient, And it built its thick wall, At once when I came, it couldn't hear my call. Now I shudder, And now I quake, For my delay was a final
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May 18, 2022
May 18, 2022 at 1:16 AM UTC
We're lost again
finding myself struggling with twenty-seven years the magic number until I can retire seems a thousand lifetimes away and how will I ever stay in one place that long… for near forty years’ worth of days I have floundered between part-time and joblessness… some of it as a ****** some as a young adult trying to find my way… pondering solvency, monetarily I consider my real options: theft leads to jail hard work leads to hard work 401k’s and retirement planning are often stolen by the greed of the 1%-ers bailout for the monopoly kings… where is my bailout for living in America for this long? who has been diligently investing in my trust fund? why is this what ‘making it’ looks like? answerless questions lay piled on the floor some hurriedly jotted on napkins others tattooed on my forehead none ripe or ready… I know I can keep on keeping on I hustled ****** for ten years ….but I want it to be easier I desire to bathe in bling and throw hundreds out the window yelling about how much I don’t give a **** ….but for now, I will just get up to my alarm wash my face and hands and play slave to the machine one more day
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Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 5:50 PM UTC
brass ring out of reach
The human race is amateur No one reaches godliness or Perfection There is only a soul searching For answers in an answerless world empty glass vases Their only purpose is to be filled with floral waters But there are chips and cracks in them all And even the most fathomless bouquet arrangements Carnations, daffodils, baby's breath, poppies, sunflowers, roses All die.
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Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 10:12 PM UTC
Empty Glass Vases
A seeker of higher meaning And a wannabe demon What unites us? The strange empty feeling Nothing really Something about the hardship of staying Discrepancy between going higher Or falling lower into Dark as a pit in the belly of the void That feeling you cannot escape Smirking tickling uncomfortably Squinting as I try to look into its colors Seeking something to drive away Overwhelmed panicky lack of sense To feel complete content and concrete What do I need? Perhaps some presence perhaps a breath Warmth or consolation Perhaps some kind of heaven Perhaps a gentle warmth of ****** tide Or the volcano at the bottom of the spine Anything is Never enough or else pointless... The deep well of chaotic darkness Penetrates the vision It's in the color of blindness In oblivion of madness In the dark starvation The ever present dementors' chorus Frustrated vibration getting the better Of me of you of the kid who starts the war Inside his mind inside her heart Between the legs and within the Ever leaking grip that cannot contain All there is to possess Now inside out Splattered seeds of distraction and devotion Striving starvation eager to be filled By the crispness of green The redness of alive Numerous eyes stroking along the length Of the ego's handle The kind of pit... food will rot first Before reaching the bottom The kind of void oozing odors Of unfulfilled and fallen Or desperately giving to avoid The emptiness of the void And from that pit I draw the breath And on the long exhalation I look OUT Into the world reflecting the light Of the ever exploding Surrounded by texture Cradling this smallness of a body And I put the first line on The smooth white surface As if a question And the answer will poor out Not through the answerless limitations of the mind But through the hand Holding this pencil
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Jul 30, 2016
Jul 30, 2016 at 4:08 PM UTC
subtle differences of the void
A seeker of higher meaning And a wannabe demon What unites us? The strange empty feeling Nothing really Something about the hardship of staying Discrepancy between going higher Or falling lower into Dark as a pit in the belly of the void That feeling you cannot escape Smirking tickling uncomfortably Squinting as I try to look into its colors Seeking something to drive away Overwhelmed panicky lack of sense To feel complete content and concrete What do I need? Perhaps some presence perhaps a breath Warmth or consolation Perhaps some kind of heaven Perhaps a gentle warmth of ****** tide Or the volcano at the bottom of the spine Anything is Never enough or else pointless... The deep well of chaotic darkness Penetrates the vision It's in the color of blindness In oblivion of madness In the dark starvation The ever present dementors' chorus Frustrated vibration getting the better Of me of you of the kid who starts the war Inside his mind inside her heart Between the legs and within the Ever leaking grip that cannot contain All there is to possess Now inside out Splattered seeds of distraction and devotion Striving starvation eager to be filled By the crispness of green The redness of alive Numerous eyes stroking along the length Of the ego's handle The kind of pit... food will rot first Before reaching the bottom The kind of void oozing odors Of unfulfilled and fallen Or desperately giving to avoid The emptiness of the void And from that pit I draw the breath And on the long exhalation I look OUT Into the world reflecting the light Of the ever exploding Surrounded by texture Cradling this smallness of a body And I put the first line on The smooth white surface As if a question And the answer will poor out Not through the answerless limitations of the mind But through the hand Holding this pencil
Continue reading...
62
rinsing my flask, this late afternoon and scouring to steal anything from my father's humble tavern: Chilean. bought on stolen wine, this daze, pacing itself carefully, as masterful as a leering puma poised to strike with a dull blade duller than stab-wound, nobody heard this primal man cry in the woods and i'm no dangerous man. just a shadow that fits the sizable hands of the world cupped, the afternoon is slain and the hue is its blood: something the brush of the wind sensuously brings a roulette of red blue, lavender, viridian, plucked out of the vermilion wading out as a debris forgotten waltzes with the river underneath the kamagong— an answerless enigma amid all perplexities, are we but nothing whilst we live?
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Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 3:35 AM UTC
Stolen Wine
Awake in the nights Asleep in the day There's nothing to stop me From making my way Down this road less traveled by Leading me awry In a life full of answerless questions like "why" Why am I awake Why am I here Why have I pushed away all I hold dear Why am I alone Awake in the night Why am I swallowed by this never ending plight Where are you now Hell, where were you then? Who, what, where, why, how, and when?
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Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 6:42 AM UTC
Questions like why
Is Life rewindable? Is Life rewindable? If is it so? Just imagine Stepping into the past, Unknown of the caste, Enjoying those lovely days in mom's womb, Which is always the sweetest home, Where nobody dares to boom (scolds) After birth Torchering parents with sleepless nights Loving silly fights, Arguing for simple rights, Embracing days of sights..... Oh, no..., But, After reaching a certain height, Partition with parents may create at sight, Innocence of love and affection may disappear Where, Senseless problems and fights...fear, Some even end up with answerless tears, If lucky problem clears..... Will the days of past never appear? Is there an option to go to the past? Dated: 27.11.2011
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Sep 25, 2017
Sep 25, 2017 at 12:52 AM UTC
Is Life Rewindable? , If Is It So?
THE TALK OF THE TUDOR WORLD It is the talk of the Tudor World. But  - the Hello Magazine Time Machine has managed to gatecrash the "Princelye Pleasures of the Queens Majesty and her Sommery Progress." It is the July of 1575. Trump wanted to go but we said: "NO!" He's messed up our Future don't want him to mess up this Past. Took a hairy Irish poet instead. So here we be at Killing Worth Castle Warwick Sheer, where "All loves meet... ...to create one soul!" as Mr. Decker has it. Leicester and Eliza dance the Volta with lewd look in eye. The paparazzi wet themselves! The Queen deports her self "in full sight!" The famous fountain spurting with "such vehemency!" as to "moysten" we time travellers "...from top to toe!" Already our passions enflamed by carved erotica. Such "rich and hard white Marbl." Oh that naughty Ovid and his wicked tales. The great fireworks reflected in Eliza's eye. Her Majesty skips and dances high. Leicester's hand beneath her bust takes her and turns her with the lifting ****** of his mighty thigh against the Virgin's Royal backside. Well...we never! "Oh!" and ". . .ooooh!" the Queen cries. Sweet sweat trickles through her make-up. Three weeks of wooing a Queen's hand although it is rumoured he has had  much more than that! The wondrous artificial lake mirrors the falling sky. Scotland and Ireland are in uproar. Eliza's  "pirates" attacking Spanish silver convoys. Her procrastinating over Mary's fate her famous "answerless answers." Screams from the Tower. Another turn of the rack. Time to be gone methinks! Set the controls for 2001.
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Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 5:01 PM UTC
THE TALK OF THE TUDOR WORLD
THE TALK OF THE TUDOR WORLD It is the talk of the Tudor World. But  - the Hello Magazine Time Machine has managed to gatecrash the "Princelye Pleasures of the Queens Majesty and her Sommery Progress." It is the July of 1575. Trump wanted to go but we said: "NO!" He's messed up our Future don't want him to mess up this Past. Took a hairy Irish poet instead. So here we be at Killing Worth Castle Warwick Sheer, where "All loves meet... ...to create one soul!" as Mr. Decker has it. Leicester and Eliza dance the Volta with lewd look in eye. The paparazzi wet themselves! The Queen deports her self "in full sight!" The famous fountain spurting with "such vehemency!" as to "moysten" we time travellers "...from top to toe!" Already our passions enflamed by carved erotica. Such "rich and hard white Marbl." Oh that naughty Ovid and his wicked tales. The great fireworks reflected in Eliza's eye. Her Majesty skips and dances high. Leicester's hand beneath her bust takes her and turns her with the lifting ****** of his mighty thigh against the Virgin's Royal backside. Well...we never! "Oh!" and ". . .ooooh!" the Queen cries. Sweet sweat trickles through her make-up. Three weeks of wooing a Queen's hand although it is rumoured he has had  much more than that! The wondrous artificial lake mirrors the falling sky. Scotland and Ireland are in uproar. Eliza's  "pirates" attacking Spanish silver convoys. Her procrastinating over Mary's fate her famous "answerless answers." Screams from the Tower. Another turn of the rack. Time to be gone methinks! Set the controls for 2001.
Continue reading...
77
sweet wishes so small in their impossible distances, they tickled almost, I trembled almost: beneath ant-like trails of frisky teasings, I was settled almost as if moon on sea’s silk-draped skin suddenly glittered in a glitching turbulence and mermaids rose up and out of their thick black skies of silver tremors shaking beads out of damp-darkened hair and questioning questioning around who dare startle their monotonous dreamings who dare tremble and stir all dull-eyed creatures around; and as if sea dared on shifting reckless into the answerless air, frenzied, and grasping at an empty night causing hundreds strange havocs for a moon so little
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Feb 5, 2022
Feb 5, 2022 at 8:08 AM UTC
ii.
I cannot seem to fathom what is wrong with me any longer, My abilities degrade by the minute, fading into dust along the long way of this distortion deep within my very self, All this time now, I have failed, again, then again, and again, Wandering through an answerless world, I do not belong anywhere, I cannot compare, I don't have the strengh to any longer, And yet, within this despair, in this dying heart, there is a faint wish, To move forward, to never give up, But, the flame of which weakens, And finally turns to ash, How much will I be able to do, Before it all burns away in front of my very eyes ? At least, I won't need to die.. In a dream.. ~ Umi
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Dec 15, 2019
Dec 15, 2019 at 3:36 PM UTC
Time goes By