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Methmi Mandara Oct 2021
In the purple ocean deep
You came to us serendipitously
Became a filter of our lives
Took a promise as "Love Yourself"
Seeing our universe from your smile
Gazing at your unique style
Cuter and sweeter than honeyed mochi
Or warmer than the sultry sun
The ability of your duality starts
By melting all the ARMYs hearts

You are the Prince of Busan Jiminah!
Wrote it for the BTS member, Park Jimin
Vianne Apr 2020
I found this story on insta....pls check it out. this post is all about it https://www.instagram.com/stories/jimochi_/  (ctto)

        it's true armys, where did that contagious bunny smile go? why? why do people have to be like this? all questions that have been rushing through my broken mind. it doesn't have to be like this. he shouldn't get this. yet he does. and it breaks me to watch day by day, that smile fade....
it breaks me..
because i truly want him to have everything. i will give him my life,

but how do I do that? how can I make him happy...
when
all
I
am
Is




                    a girl that loves him...who is miles away...she is so far away. so hard to reach him, give him her touch. so far to whisper in his soft ears that he is enough. she wants the very best for this angel but how can she give him the 'very best' when she will never pass that test. she wants him to know how much she cares. that "it doesn't matter what they say. you are perfect by the way".... but when reality hits...it hits hard.. that no matter how much she believes, she will never feel his heart. she will never be able to tell him "i love you so much". she can only cry, and watch as he breaks and sighs.
but no matter what happens, she made a promise "i promise to never say goodbye" but she will stop to try. trying to stop all his tears while her eyes blur from her own. because she knows no matter how hard she tries and tries, she will never be the one. the one to stop him from falling apart. she goes crazy every night, her head feeling so light. her broken voice whispers out
"I love you so **** much. I want you to love yourself. to not listen to them. because you are perfect my love. I don't want you to cry anymore. that's enough of the tears and heartbreaks. those people that hate, they aren't worth your precious time. I know it's hard...pain kills. but I am here...and you don't know that. but I am here. so I just hope you realize that you are my world and... I don't ever wish to see you fall. so while I am lying on my knees, ready to die. do me a favour and smile. do me a favour and get up on your feet......it would make my life"
and then reality hits again... she can wish and wish and try every second of the day...but she will never get to say this to his face. only in her head, it's true that he will be hers, but outside her cruel mind, she realizes "he will never be mine".
and the pain, once again, began....as she burst out into tears, finally accepting the fact that
"I am just a fan"
Far spread the moorey ground a level scene
Bespread with rush and one eternal green
That never felt the rage of blundering plough
Though centurys wreathed spring’s blossoms on its brow
Still meeting plains that stretched them far away
In uncheckt shadows of green brown, and grey
Unbounded freedom ruled the wandering scene
Nor fence of ownership crept in between
To hide the prospect of the following eye
Its only ******* was the circling sky
One mighty flat undwarfed by bush and tree
Spread its faint shadow of immensity
And lost itself, which seemed to eke its bounds
In the blue mist the horizon’s edge surrounds
Now this sweet vision of my boyish hours
Free as spring clouds and wild as summer flowers
Is faded all—a hope that blossomed free,
And hath been once, no more shall ever be
Inclosure came and trampled on the grave
Of labour’s rights and left the poor a slave
And memory’s pride ere want to wealth did bow
Is both the shadow and the substance now
The sheep and cows were free to range as then
Where change might prompt nor felt the bonds of men
Cows went and came, with evening morn and night,
To the wild pasture as their common right
And sheep, unfolded with the rising sun
Heard the swains shout and felt their freedom won
Tracked the red fallow field and heath and plain
Then met the brook and drank and roamed again
The brook that dribbled on as clear as glass
Beneath the roots they hid among the grass
While the glad shepherd traced their tracks along
Free as the lark and happy as her song
But now all’s fled and flats of many a dye
That seemed to lengthen with the following eye
Moors, loosing from the sight, far, smooth, and blea
Where swopt the plover in its pleasure free
Are vanished now with commons wild and gay
As poet’s visions of life’s early day
Mulberry-bushes where the boy would run
To fill his hands with fruit are grubbed and done
And hedgrow-briars—flower-lovers overjoyed
Came and got flower-pots—these are all destroyed
And sky-bound mores in mangled garbs are left
Like mighty giants of their limbs bereft
Fence now meets fence in owners’ little bounds
Of field and meadow large as garden grounds
In little parcels little minds to please
With men and flocks imprisoned ill at ease
Each little path that led its pleasant way
As sweet as morning leading night astray
Where little flowers bloomed round a varied host
That travel felt delighted to be lost
Nor grudged the steps that he had ta-en as vain
When right roads traced his journeys and again—
Nay, on a broken tree he’d sit awhile
To see the mores and fields and meadows smile
Sometimes with cowslaps smothered—then all white
With daiseys—then the summer’s splendid sight
Of cornfields crimson o’er the headache bloomd
Like splendid armys for the battle plumed
He gazed upon them with wild fancy’s eye
As fallen landscapes from an evening sky
These paths are stopt—the rude philistine’s thrall
Is laid upon them and destroyed them all
Each little tyrant with his little sign
Shows where man claims earth glows no more divine
But paths to freedom and to childhood dear
A board sticks up to notice ‘no road here’
And on the tree with ivy overhung
The hated sign by ****** taste is hung
As tho’ the very birds should learn to know
When they go there they must no further go
Thus, with the poor, scared freedom bade goodbye
And much they feel it in the smothered sigh
And birds and trees and flowers without a name
All sighed when lawless law’s enclosure came
And dreams of plunder in such rebel schemes
Have found too truly that they were but dreams.
Ken Pepiton Jan 2023
-------------
Time's were hard, we see,
as we look back and wonder, asking
actually,
wondering
is asking who knew, or knows,
at the ha,
a breath acclaiming exhaled, huff.
I know. It acts as if, I am the prey, in quest…

Of course, in slow, out burst… ah wit' ha a aitch
witches silence, 'ear ye, 'ear ye,
order in the court,
the open court before the temple,

gather, all ye hinderers and holder-backs, rally
round the banner over us,
which is love of duty to God and Country,

¿Eh, little man, dis tinctual intel, confi, semper set,
semper fi, do or die, or do and die, why
is not a factor,
or luck is not a factor, time and chance, dance…

dance with this wondering mind, wishing to be
of some significance, when plopped
on the scale,
for what it is worth,
for the cost
to fit the three strand thread
from Delphi riddles writ
in Greek et Ebersprachen Proverbs
from the very early days,
collected fragments
of ever ago, cetera

as far as ships had sailed, we know, now
we have sailed farther,
we have flown, as far as our perception may
hold the experience,
as power we may use, if we choose, buy a ticket,
wait in line…

read one hundred and forty seven maxims,
think three missing, for I was told to find
one hundred and fifty pre-positioning
glyphs, single sign, single signal, taken

as given, one will to wonder, one to wonder why.

I am at the moment Qwerty Guy, qwertying code,
in clear text,
through sieves witches were known, to use,
by King James, the first, of England,
who wrote the book on sorting
witches from his loyal servants,

all sworn to alliegiance,
to the king of two kingdoms, all stand,

Come to order, let the judgement begin…
in this worlds interpretation,
of ἐγγύα πάρα δ'ἄτα
- Swear not at all… Certainty makes madness
after we recall, there needs be order, must be
in the court,
where each man, wombed or un, and possibly,
old or young, or, better said,
old from young, must judge the angels
we each trust to always see things our way
- draw the right vectors, from my POV
- Graphic communication demo
Cartesian, belling thing, seen on two dimensions,
to and from, but here
the point
the readers perceptivity
to the precept set in ifery was,
so quite long ago we lost our grip,

holding, holding, holding that thought,
we thought, a chapter or so ago, you know
we thought,
ever
was a thinkable thing, and we thought it.

------------- Proud of it, too.
Dis, take it
Easy, you are privileged, legated privacy
for knowing what may be known,
in the realm of all you may ever know.

Gnostic mystic alien ties
religamental truth coded moral worth,
stores of stories studied in hope,
choking on the dust, those missing,
layers,
the bringers of peace,
the releasers of the knowing to the chosen,
those selected by childish preferences,
to become the model image
of good done right,
as natural as
sneezing whole armys into being,
after sowing dragon's teeth for years.
All we agree, we may imagine, making up

Messengers from former days,
telling us to mend our ways,
no, telling us, to get a grip.
Oracles or angels, or mass hysteria,
none portrayed as boogermen and witches,
wrinkled hags and fatphag priests in shades.
At you, we see the dust blown.
Celebrate.
A series of sneezes axon-triggering,
deep anti-histamine relief reaction, coming on,

must be something in the wind,
must be my body, reacting, doing what must
be done,
or I shall die, or I shall die, each sneeze,
from within me cries,
no, from inside,
we whisper, prepare, to not spray snot,
in civilized mindspacetime patterning arrays.
Ah, this feels fine, okeh, let life work wonders in the dark.
Me Sep 2013
I have tried to be honest -
I cannot

I have tried to strip me off my sins
and this is -

and here is where it all begins, cause look:

born, and raised as one is, I belong
to the race of those kids who define
themselves by their age, by the content of time
that they spent

helplessly rushing from one end
to the other, with father and mother
still in between

with memories in cages and stories
unseen and unnoticed

with silences louder than sirens,
bigger than rocks and finer
than powdery snow on the top

and with eyes:
ah, with eyes wider than ruins
and more fierce than millions
and millions of armys in lands
where no daffodils grow

where no dragons fly and no harpees,
where the masses of sky are empty and vast
as the churches

so those eyes:
yes, wide eyes, and empty,
dreaming of countries that see no dawn
that yawn for experience

the youth has told lies to the world
given rise to a culture that hurls itself back
to the starting point
whenever it touches
the edge

so there now:
the youth in a square box
a cage in its own ship
prepared just to rip off the walls
the silly paper

with blue and white cloud print
only to see then, a little bit later,
that beyond
                there is freedom -

and always had been.
Tommy Jackson Mar 2016
An assassin mentality
Has taken over the epoch's, scientists measure faith by
Weathering of muck
Hewn stone comes from bombing homes
Yet only scientifically has man
Measured their fate.
We open gates
To realms of the dead.
Kings run rampant
Queens say off with heads.
Politics like tricky ****
Create the rebirth of Nixon scandals.
Making words around the world
And wars they use to advance
Secretively they laugh
Behind the curtains of seance.
conjuring up tricks,
erroneous illusions.
Making boys to men
Armys to win
The masses of confusion.
Juliana Apr 2021
Freeze Yellow Iguanas
Bees Tease Warts
Ears Tarnish Antarctica
Orange Monkeys Groove
Alpacas Knit Ascots
Nannies Babysit Anteaters
Teachers Tolerate Yaks’ Lazyness
Armadillos Merge Armys
Music Includes Axolotls
Newts Free Lizards
Not All Sloths Annihilate
Insects Dance Knowingly
Dainty Arms Require Elephants
Bathe Rabbits Biweekly
Dorky Iridescent Yellowfish
Tamborine Bearing Anglerfish
Unicorns Float Occasionally
Flinching Antelope Quake
Warthogs Torture Hamsters
Donall Dempsey Sep 2022
"THE SMALLE RAYNE DOWNE CAN RAYNE?"

You bloom
in my mind

like a fast forward
film of a flower

going from seed to blossom
in a second or seven

I looking down
from on high

as you pass by
under the bridge

you " no bigger
than your head"

that line from Lear

a chestnut red
flowing over your shoulders

you the only one
with head uncovered

everyone else
suddenly become

an umbrella
with legs

a river of people flowing
down the street

like different
coloured leaves

and you look up
and even from this distance

of several
years or more

your smile
the only thing

I see. . .

Death
unable

to take that
from me.


*


WESTRIB WYNDE

Westron wynde, when wyll thow blow
The smalle rayne downe can rayne?
Cryst yf my love were in my armys,
And I yn my bed agayne!
Methmi Mandara Feb 2021
A person with a life with shine
Was born in the month of valentine
With a magical rapping voice and a beat
Is a star of the world who wouldn't be defeat

Having the loudest laughter of all
Hides the greatest pains of fall
Brings happiness with funny acts
Knowing about music lots of facts

A son of a literature teacher
Is a sunshine with a kind feature
Giving hopes with the name of Jhope
Tight on ARMYs' hearts without a rope
Some words can be understand by BTS fans only!
I Know Things Mar 2017
Words can raise armys,
They can make them fall,
They can make men cry,
Even make them rise tall,
And they are a weapon
Greater then them all.
ZACK GRAM Aug 31
Warm factory based clothing
Soon you turn the engine off
Frozen
2 minutes hypothermia
The real zone
Sleep in snow
Drink glacier water
Institution particiation
No sail boats
Water between
Create to hate
Hide to die
Corporate responsibilty
No government
No coverage
Whos the 1 in charge
War never spoke
To cold to trench
Smoke each breath
Life an death
Put fear aside
Concide
In confirmation
For a bigger vision
Made plane
Tropical with super technology
Hidden from the vicious
Move borders deadly
Cure steadly
I took it 1st
Now its your turn
Prepare a house of all houses
Soon you count
Indefinitely Gods armys prepared
Equator to pole
Equation from death
Now safe forever
Take a peek into the wilderness
Are we really prepared
Im not
I see you daily
Cleary youre not either
Soon mcdonalds shutdown you a dead end
The end
Remember that cold front
When im outside
And your stuck in
We both dying to feed
Either way
Its ****** brilliant
Bunkers
"THE SMALLE RAYNE DOWNE CAN RAYNE?"

you bloom
in my mind
like a fast forward

film of a flower
going from seed to blossom
in a second or seven

I looking down
from on high
as you pass by

under the bridge
you " no bigger
than your head"

that line from Lear
a chestnut red
flowing over your shoulders

you the only one
with head uncovered
everyone else

suddenly become
an umbrella
with legs

a river of people flowing
down the street
like different coloured leaves

and you look up
and even from this distance
of several

years or more
your smile
the only thing

I see. . .
Death
unable

to take
that
from me


*

Westron wynde, when wylt thow blow
The smalle rayne downe can rayne?
Cryst yf my love were in my armys
And I yn my bed agayne!

— The End —