Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"attentively" poems
I know you’ve heard these words before I've said them many times before I wish that I could use them more To make things better like before There was a time these words had meaning Sheathed in heartfelt cries and feelings But a shaman who can't heal Is just a man and nothing more Like worn-out, old and ***** pennies Now diluted by the many There's so many, many pennies Don't care there's one on my floor My cries of “wolf” no longer heeded When these words are truly needed To the darkness they've receded Blindly searching for that door In my chest still beats a heart While pained regret tears it apart Can't fix or go back to the start And you don’t want me anymore My anger and my finger pointing Foolishly like I'm anointed Not the one you are annoyed with You were wrong; I was so sure Attentively I listened to you In-and-out my ears your words flew Silenced; Gave no value to you Truth revealed strikes at my core Awakening I newly have With gained awareness of how bad I took for granted what I had A rolling tide erodes the shore Alone I sit and think of when We were not lovers just good friends Fun times together that we’d spend And from that my heart starts to soar Reality then brings me back Jolts like a sudden heart attack A deep sharp pain gives me a whack I scream until my lungs are sore Can't fix the memories or replace My nightmares wake me; Teary-faced Past filled with guilt, shame and disgrace Start questioning what life is for
0
Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 11:33 PM UTC
Sorry
I will look at you with the same old eyes. You will hold my gaze attentively. And I'll go on wishing I could change it all, When I know I can't change you. You will be forever capitvating, And I will be forever falling down - Down the rabbit hole of love, When I know I can't change you.
0
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 11:21 AM UTC
The Rabbit Hole
When you like somebody so much but you don't know how to tell him, When you are not sure about what you feel. When you want to ask him to stay longer but he has to pick up his mom. When you can't hide the disappointment on your face. But he said that this soon shall pass. When he said he was attracted to you When he hugs you and buries his face in your hair, When he looks at you with his baby blues so clear When he laughs with you When he listens so attentively when you talk The world is filled with colors When you knew it was coming But you thought you could dodge it When he sat down and said sorry. When he texts you, When he said he would text you When he talks with modal auxiliary verbs. When he tells you his family history. When I see his eyes brighten When I think I am falling but don't know his side of story. are all fragments of our memories. When he said it's still beautiful to leave when you have developed feelings. Remember me when you leave.
0
Jan 28, 2017
Jan 28, 2017 at 12:06 AM UTC
When
darling girl, why do you cry yourself to sleep every night praying for someone to come along and give you love, to stay up with you till three in the morning and listen attentively as you list off all of your passions, worries, burdens to be envious of your attention to kiss your forehead and hold you without judgement to be there for you when you feel alone to assure you everything will be okay and remind you that every sunrise and crashing wave is a chance to make things right when I’m right here waiting for you with open arms, ready to replenish every empty space in your heart because although you’re imperfect and you hate the way your front tooth is slightly crooked I see you perfectly darling girl, why haven’t you opened your eyes to realize that I’ve been here for you all along
0
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 12:48 PM UTC
love, Jesus
Forever neglected Forever dismayed Forever deafened By the cacophony of the trade The antiquated digger stands by A sentient guard of the worker It watches as the tree slowly dissipates Its life slowly crumbling As the voracious chipper Devours the tree whole The worker stands by The digger stands by The chipper chips away The taciturn worker remains Ruminating the existence of the world. Why was he put here? For what reason must he stay with these hallowed construction tools? Do they feel any remorse for the change that they've enacted On the world around them? Are they aware that they transgress the laws of nature? The bellicose chipper Wages war with nature As the people watch so distantly. Its sound makes the neighbors quite belligerent Yet the zealots watch attentively. The pure ignorance The pure neglect The blatant apathy Is something to be seen. Whatever could possess you To follow in the footsteps of the worker To feel his pain as the trimmer Chips away at the trees' centuries The sound of shattered glass Punctuates the air. Perhaps there has been an accident.
0
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 9:33 PM UTC
The Jurisprudence of the Construction Worker
If i could, I would, Carefully take you apart, And put you back together, Piece, by fragile piece, And i would not cease, Until the job was done. Until the sun once again, shone from those lost, wondering eyes, Until the cries that had chained you down, Had been removed from the ground. And if i could, i would, Take my tools And attentively drill out Your insecurities, All those flaws, you believe to be Impurities And ***** in self acceptance so tight, So that never again at night, Would you be reluctant, to hold yourself, As you sparkle in the moonlight. And if i could, i would, Clamp together, Your hopes and dreams, Your self belief, And tie them together at the seams With double knots, So that you never forgot, how Capable you are. I'd take each glittering star, and plant them in the pupils of your eyes, So that each time you cry You'd be reminded of the beauty inside, Of you. And if i could, i would, Paint over your frame work, And tentatively cover up those scars, So you'd never again see the hurt, And never doubt Just how perfectly imperfect you are. And if i could, i would, Saw away your sorrows So when you thought of your tomorrows, You weren't filled with dread, You were filled with joy and hope And optimism instead, So that before you went to bed, You were not filled with self defeating thoughts, Ruminating inside, that pretty little head. And if i could, i would, Weld securely into place, A genuinely happy smile, Across your dainty face, And a hand in yours, So you'd never have to brace Anything alone. And if i could, i would, Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes And rewire them back together again, With a spanner, in the manner, That meant you were not Classed as insane. I'd unfold and rearrange, The chemical imbalances Within your brain So that the years of disdain, And self blame, Where a thing of the past, I'd put you back together, In a way, that showed you, You were meant to last. And if i could, i would, Attach wings to your spine, So there'd never be a time, That you'd stumble and fall You'd stand tall, You'd rise above it all. And if i could, i would, Take the lonely shadows of your heart, Rip them apart And blaze them, In a light so bright It'd never die out, You would never again doubt All that you are, And all that you can be. And if i could, i would, I'd set you free.
0
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 5:16 AM UTC
toolbox and tactics for the mentally ill
If i could, I would, Carefully take you apart, And put you back together, Piece, by fragile piece, And i would not cease, Until the job was done. Until the sun once again, shone from those lost, wondering eyes, Until the cries that had chained you down, Had been removed from the ground. And if i could, i would, Take my tools And attentively drill out Your insecurities, All those flaws, you believe to be Impurities And ***** in self acceptance so tight, So that never again at night, Would you be reluctant, to hold yourself, As you sparkle in the moonlight. And if i could, i would, Clamp together, Your hopes and dreams, Your self belief, And tie them together at the seams With double knots, So that you never forgot, how Capable you are. I'd take each glittering star, and plant them in the pupils of your eyes, So that each time you cry You'd be reminded of the beauty inside, Of you. And if i could, i would, Paint over your frame work, And tentatively cover up those scars, So you'd never again see the hurt, And never doubt Just how perfectly imperfect you are. And if i could, i would, Saw away your sorrows So when you thought of your tomorrows, You weren't filled with dread, You were filled with joy and hope And optimism instead, So that before you went to bed, You were not filled with self defeating thoughts, Ruminating inside, that pretty little head. And if i could, i would, Weld securely into place, A genuinely happy smile, Across your dainty face, And a hand in yours, So you'd never have to brace Anything alone. And if i could, i would, Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes And rewire them back together again, With a spanner, in the manner, That meant you were not Classed as insane. I'd unfold and rearrange, The chemical imbalances Within your brain So that the years of disdain, And self blame, Where a thing of the past, I'd put you back together, In a way, that showed you, You were meant to last. And if i could, i would, Attach wings to your spine, So there'd never be a time, That you'd stumble and fall You'd stand tall, You'd rise above it all. And if i could, i would, Take the lonely shadows of your heart, Rip them apart And blaze them, In a light so bright It'd never die out, You would never again doubt All that you are, And all that you can be. And if i could, i would, I'd set you free.
Continue reading...
87
Once I read this quote about how quiet people have the loudest minds. Now, and only now do I know what was meant by this. I sit there while you talk. Just sit and listen. A little nod, a silent sound of consent. That's all you'll see from me. Because I'm not a talker. I'm the one who listens. Attentively. Tireless. An open ear for everyone's problems musings, thoughts. And I don't complain or give advice I don't argue or deny I will just sit there subtly smiling, gathering my thoughts inside my mind And you are grateful for that someone who listens and cares without judging But ask me once on my view, my experience I will start slowly, trying to hold back on all the things unsaid. tiptoeing around so as not to drown you And finally it will overthrow my discipline and words, letters, stories start flowing out my mouth passing the barriers that have so long retained them. And I'm afraid it might easily crush you because there's so much within me that wants to be said and so very few people ever taken the time to listen.
0
Oct 15, 2012
Oct 15, 2012 at 4:26 PM UTC
Listen
If i could, I would, Carefully take you apart, And put you back together, Piece, by fragile piece, And i would not cease, Until the job was done. Until the sun once again, shone from those lost, wondering eyes, Until the cries that had chained you down, Had been removed from the ground. And if i could, i would, Take my tools And attentively drill out Your insecurities, All those flaws, you believe to be Impurities And ***** in self acceptance so tight, So that never again at night, Would you be reluctant, to hold yourself, As you sparkle in the moonlight. And if i could, i would, Clamp together, Your hopes and dreams, Your self belief, And tie them together at the seams With double knots, So that you never forgot, how Capable you are. I'd take each glittering star, and plant them in the pupils of your eyes, So that each time you cry You'd be reminded of the beauty inside, Of you. And if i could, i would, Paint over your frame work, And tentatively cover up those scars, So you'd never again see the hurt, And never doubt Just how perfectly imperfect you are. And if i could, i would, Saw away your sorrows So when you thought of your tomorrows, You weren't filled with dread, You were filled with joy and hope And optimism instead, So that before you went to bed, You were not filled with self defeating thoughts, Ruminating inside, that pretty little head. And if i could, i would, Weld securely into place, A genuinely happy smile, Across your dainty face, And a hand in yours, So you'd never have to brace Anything alone. And if i could, i would, Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes And rewire them back together again, With a spanner, in the manner, That meant you were not Classed as insane. I'd unfold and rearrange, The chemical imbalances Within your brain So that the years of disdain, And self blame, Where a thing of the past, I'd put you back together, In a way, that showed you, You were meant to last. And if i could, i would, Attach wings to your spine, So there'd never be a time, That you'd stumble and fall You'd stand tall. And if i could, i would, Take the lonely shadows of your heart, Rip them apart And blaze them, In a light so bright It'd never die out, You would never again doubt All that you are, And all that you can be. And if i could, i would, I'd set you free.
0
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 11:44 AM UTC
Toolbox and tactics for the mentally ill
If i could, I would, Carefully take you apart, And put you back together, Piece, by fragile piece, And i would not cease, Until the job was done. Until the sun once again, shone from those lost, wondering eyes, Until the cries that had chained you down, Had been removed from the ground. And if i could, i would, Take my tools And attentively drill out Your insecurities, All those flaws, you believe to be Impurities And ***** in self acceptance so tight, So that never again at night, Would you be reluctant, to hold yourself, As you sparkle in the moonlight. And if i could, i would, Clamp together, Your hopes and dreams, Your self belief, And tie them together at the seams With double knots, So that you never forgot, how Capable you are. I'd take each glittering star, and plant them in the pupils of your eyes, So that each time you cry You'd be reminded of the beauty inside, Of you. And if i could, i would, Paint over your frame work, And tentatively cover up those scars, So you'd never again see the hurt, And never doubt Just how perfectly imperfect you are. And if i could, i would, Saw away your sorrows So when you thought of your tomorrows, You weren't filled with dread, You were filled with joy and hope And optimism instead, So that before you went to bed, You were not filled with self defeating thoughts, Ruminating inside, that pretty little head. And if i could, i would, Weld securely into place, A genuinely happy smile, Across your dainty face, And a hand in yours, So you'd never have to brace Anything alone. And if i could, i would, Disassemble your malfunctioning thought processes And rewire them back together again, With a spanner, in the manner, That meant you were not Classed as insane. I'd unfold and rearrange, The chemical imbalances Within your brain So that the years of disdain, And self blame, Where a thing of the past, I'd put you back together, In a way, that showed you, You were meant to last. And if i could, i would, Attach wings to your spine, So there'd never be a time, That you'd stumble and fall You'd stand tall. And if i could, i would, Take the lonely shadows of your heart, Rip them apart And blaze them, In a light so bright It'd never die out, You would never again doubt All that you are, And all that you can be. And if i could, i would, I'd set you free.
Continue reading...
86
She hopes, silently, that he will chase her, catch her in his embrace and smother her with feverish kisses. He wants to glance back, towards the stinging sun, towards the opposite direction she has stayed in and beacon her with words of licorice. She wishes to let her voice drown the antagonistic opposition to their current disposition and listen attentively to reciprocated admissions. But they cannot, will not, because this is not a fairy tale, this is not a fantasy, this is the sad reality of both decisions. And so torn apart between letting go or catching to, they walk away towards opposite directions.
0
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 12:18 AM UTC
Misconceived reality
Always eager, never feeble. Lives to do it, will pursue it. Never coward, will-powered. Burning desire, unknowingly inspire. Good under pressure, The best, expect nothing lesser. Extreme will and devotion, Do not cause scene or commotion. Attentively listen, Very well disciplined. Works until the job is done, willing to risk his life for a son. Never asks for applause, works for a cause. Pays a price for a result, gives all without exult. Qualified to protect, command respect. Valiant and ready to save, all in the name of the home of the brave. Self motivation, gives whatever it takes for the sake of a nation. Dignified, noble and strong, rush in when things go wrong. Sacrifice so you can have your freedom, Let him know that you need him.
0
Feb 10, 2013
Feb 10, 2013 at 2:11 AM UTC
The Soldier.
I asked him why he did not travel on the roads anymore He blamed fear and age In my mind, I told him: "I like the bittersweet taste of danger touching my lips" But it was much more than that Because you, constant and inconstant part of my body, which brings me contemplation and solitude Let me bathe in the night and search the stars in the sky As the midnight wind hits my body I don't need anything else, just movement and freedom I'm a hurricane, I'm everything and I'm nothing My mind frees and turns itself off, to rekindle more attentively, more alive And then take me to unfamiliar and distant places And I will feel the breeze of the ocean, And I will see the distance lights of the city They shine just for me tonight Competing with the starry sky and the moon reflecting on the sea Just like lullabies on my mind I don't need anyone, I am everything and I am nothing I am a silent hurricane Devoid of fear in its dark and tropical flavor Climbing wet roads filled with nature And just then I will finally feel the bittersweet taste Of freedom touching my lips
0
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 1:20 PM UTC
Night road
The devil dancing in plain sight When your eyes glamorize mine Makin me fantasize Bout your face between my thighs Straddle up From the side Hips peak high when you choke me as I reach my **** I love when you ****** it from behind Let me, keep you in mind As I slip into something more casual Slow Grind, wine Twisting my tongue letting you unwind Where my throat flirts with the tip of your boat Slip N Slide until unified Let me, take my time I'm talking knee pads on Valentines Tryna elevate our vibes Gates Wild Ride & Rotate on cloud 9 Body attentively inclined To tell you all my Secrets Hung to air dry - ****** dominance keeps me in line - Kiss up along my spine - Grip me right, tight *Like, be Curious & **** this cat nine times Now pay those crime fine Stroke deep in my walls Rock it til waterfalls & watch me flood you like high tides Meet & Greet our *** with sunrise & bittersweet goodbyes... I finally found the courage to speak my mind I'm not so sure that I'll be yours but baby you could be mine 8:47 PM #TheHIMCollection #DarkMagicCollection
0
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 2:02 PM UTC
February 22, 2017
You are witnessing a prodigious talent and promise, and to a lesser extent but still to the degree whereby it should keep you awake at night writhing in cold sweats, your life, slip agonisingly through your open and clammy palms. Promise means so little if not actualised. You have been granted chance after warning after fortuitous escape yet have blithely spurned every omen and will one day fall, swiftly and perhaps terminally. You are almost certainly depressed. You say you love your girlfriend, and you mean it wholeheartedly when you do, but you worry that the relationship perpetuates as without her there would be no reason to rise with the sun. Even if the relationship is  unstable, and at times verging on the unhealthy, you believe you love her but are too great a coward to consider decisive action if that belief is to reside or subside. Your friends range from kind and honest yet deeply flawed to somehow toeing an inextricably thin line between dependability and duplicitousness. Conversations with a certain few of your friends necessitate decrying every undercooked ethos you've every conned yourself into believing you hold (you could well be the most hypocritical liberal to walk the earth, for you are innately and irrepressibly selfish) yet you still nod placidly as your conscience squirms. Grotesquely, like a beaten spouse, you crave the gaze of those who have treated you with the most insulting derision, but are too proud (of what?) and, a running theme, too cowardly, to stoop to a simple detante. You must change, for it pains you on a most base level to have to accept the feeble, whimpering, simpering spectre you have become. You must be bold, brave, unashamed in your convictions, anything but pursed and silent lips. You have a voice, and you must now speak loud enough for them to hear, for that which has become blunted must be whetted, sharpened, readied for battle to be unsheathed at an utterance. Heed the signs and change, for our sake. You, a milksop who attentively notes the sophistry of courage, you can still be brave, and you must be. For one day you will be swelled with a courage and fortitude to fill your sails taut, enough to leave this place, forget these people and bear you away.
0
Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 8:08 PM UTC
self portrait
You are witnessing a prodigious talent and promise, and to a lesser extent but still to the degree whereby it should keep you awake at night writhing in cold sweats, your life, slip agonisingly through your open and clammy palms. Promise means so little if not actualised. You have been granted chance after warning after fortuitous escape yet have blithely spurned every omen and will one day fall, swiftly and perhaps terminally. You are almost certainly depressed. You say you love your girlfriend, and you mean it wholeheartedly when you do, but you worry that the relationship perpetuates as without her there would be no reason to rise with the sun. Even if the relationship is  unstable, and at times verging on the unhealthy, you believe you love her but are too great a coward to consider decisive action if that belief is to reside or subside. Your friends range from kind and honest yet deeply flawed to somehow toeing an inextricably thin line between dependability and duplicitousness. Conversations with a certain few of your friends necessitate decrying every undercooked ethos you've every conned yourself into believing you hold (you could well be the most hypocritical liberal to walk the earth, for you are innately and irrepressibly selfish) yet you still nod placidly as your conscience squirms. Grotesquely, like a beaten spouse, you crave the gaze of those who have treated you with the most insulting derision, but are too proud (of what?) and, a running theme, too cowardly, to stoop to a simple detante. You must change, for it pains you on a most base level to have to accept the feeble, whimpering, simpering spectre you have become. You must be bold, brave, unashamed in your convictions, anything but pursed and silent lips. You have a voice, and you must now speak loud enough for them to hear, for that which has become blunted must be whetted, sharpened, readied for battle to be unsheathed at an utterance. Heed the signs and change, for our sake. You, a milksop who attentively notes the sophistry of courage, you can still be brave, and you must be. For one day you will be swelled with a courage and fortitude to fill your sails taut, enough to leave this place, forget these people and bear you away.
Continue reading...
2
At one time transfixed in front of the t.v. watching Programs strewn trash the river mouth spewing Shows and shows as waves on the sand breaking Talk gibberish talks water under a bridge rushing Unintelligible words rain on a roof pitter pattering Now we're glued to a contraption called internet Blasting air ways information ideas faster than jet Good bad evil intertwining jungles without outlet Connecting to connect to lives or lives haven't met Inexhaustible possibilities daily sunrise to sunset Better be a wanderer by nature gladly enveloping Explore new world or a quiet place contemplating What makes us what we are therefore we're doing Cyber corrupts old fashioned family ties reflecting May inflict affection attentively attending nothing
0
Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 8:34 PM UTC
The Television & The Internet
- you remind me of home the way your eyes look down when you walk but straight into mine when you talk you listen to me attentively and that's more than i can say for anyone on any day you ask me about my family about my heart about my hurt and then there's the silence you put on my favorite song and close your eyes you say nothing you said nothing you didn't touch me or offer to you stayed close enough for comfort and far enough for peace you let the music tell me it was going to be okay the other day you told me about your family how you just lost your home i understood you remind me of home you make jokes in arabic attempt to speak urdu make fun of english your accent is local enough to understand it is foreign enough to love. let's eat maggi noodles and talk about life let's sing simple songs i think of you and i think *soft soft soft.* i think soft. let's stay far enough for it to not hurt let's stay close enough for it to not hurt you remind me of home you remind me of home you remind me of home -
0
Oct 4, 2017
Oct 4, 2017 at 12:55 AM UTC
you remind me of home.
Words of the forgotten voice. The soft spoken voice that can no longer be heard by the ears of her beloved. Her once loud spoken voice turned into nothing but a whisper of a faded memory. The muffle tears of this forgotten girl plays a gentle soothing lullaby in Death's ears. As he attentively listens to her angelic cries, she begins her ****** story. Story of pain, heartache, and suffering is slowly etched across her thinning body. Her hieroglyphics only visible to the cold longing eyes of Death. She waits for his daunting kiss to penetrate her broken vessel and reach her impure soul. "Please." The last word her meek voice will ever say. My voice. My thoughts. Belong to Death.
0
Mar 22, 2013
Mar 22, 2013 at 2:20 PM UTC
Written Not Spoken, 143234
I was abused literally and pushed aside by teacher He was in rage to see me when I tried to enter He might have some grievances in mind to nurture As I was doing fare in studies and position was assured I was really ashy boy but excellent in pick up I heard attentively and was cheered with thumb up His behavior as teacher made great impact in mind I might have taken it lightly if he was harsh or unkind It is customary to show little disrespect to the poor students Some of the discourtesy is extended with inferior comments I was unable to think further but bore a grudge permanently I remember those abusive remarks and resisted him once vehemently I thought and rethought about such behavior As teacher he would have been considerate and held honor I became reserved from that day and decided to keep silent As it was now known to me that best way is to offer no comment In social circle too certain disliking exist for people It may be more intensive when they are incapable Not in financial capacity to move forward and compete Live under their dominance and agree to submit I remained firm in approach but turned away from close contacts I kept good will at heart and prayed for their well being in fact This gave me enough of strength to observe them from distance I was taken little note of and none observed my presence I return gesture with kind words and remain aloof I have enough of strength financially as single proof They dare not to see me with inferiority and pull down As I have established of my own and became powerfully known I wish that same kind of maltreatment is not shown To children who are unfortunate of having means of their own They are really asset to us and builder of future generation How can we be indifferent when question of building nation comes? I have known some of the people getting blinded By sudden arrival of fortune and secretly confided Their common sense gets unnatural boost to reveal The arrogance is reflected and shown with no efforts to conceal
0
Dec 9, 2011
Dec 9, 2011 at 7:48 AM UTC
Abide by teacher
I was abused literally and pushed aside by teacher He was in rage to see me when I tried to enter He might have some grievances in mind to nurture As I was doing fare in studies and position was assured I was really ashy boy but excellent in pick up I heard attentively and was cheered with thumb up His behavior as teacher made great impact in mind I might have taken it lightly if he was harsh or unkind It is customary to show little disrespect to the poor students Some of the discourtesy is extended with inferior comments I was unable to think further but bore a grudge permanently I remember those abusive remarks and resisted him once vehemently I thought and rethought about such behavior As teacher he would have been considerate and held honor I became reserved from that day and decided to keep silent As it was now known to me that best way is to offer no comment In social circle too certain disliking exist for people It may be more intensive when they are incapable Not in financial capacity to move forward and compete Live under their dominance and agree to submit I remained firm in approach but turned away from close contacts I kept good will at heart and prayed for their well being in fact This gave me enough of strength to observe them from distance I was taken little note of and none observed my presence I return gesture with kind words and remain aloof I have enough of strength financially as single proof They dare not to see me with inferiority and pull down As I have established of my own and became powerfully known I wish that same kind of maltreatment is not shown To children who are unfortunate of having means of their own They are really asset to us and builder of future generation How can we be indifferent when question of building nation comes? I have known some of the people getting blinded By sudden arrival of fortune and secretly confided Their common sense gets unnatural boost to reveal The arrogance is reflected and shown with no efforts to conceal
Continue reading...
36
He looks at me with question in his eyes, His mouth moving but not saying anything, His ears cocked towards me like a dog, Listening attentively. By holding my hand he encourages me, His smile making a request. “I’m here for you, to help you out, so say what comes to your head.” I begin with my monologue, and tell him the tales of my heart. What has me down and worried, I share with him un-flinchingly. He holds my hand when it gets difficult, as if compassion flows through his veins. His mind is void of any judgement. Throughout the narration, all his senses motivate me. “Come out with it!” they say together. To my heart it’s a life boat you see!? Because in this age of all the blabber. It’s hard to find a good listener. A listener who wants to know you better, And help you out genuinely. As I finish my tale he hugs me tight, Letting me know he understands. And in the future if there comes a bumper, then I can always hold his hand.
0
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 2:31 PM UTC
Qualities of a good listener
The delicacy of the mind. Strong impressions. Vivid images. Of past regressions. Benevolent enemies, Are attentively concluded. Amidst their repugnance. Intellect becomes secluded. Paths of judgement. Easily twist to falter. Register atonement. Evils become softer. Conveyed assurance, False sense of civility. Sober thoughts, drunken words. Lead to tolerable tranquility.
0
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 10:24 PM UTC
Atonement
I push and push and shove but you don't budge when i scream, you whisper. when i cry, you hold me. when i speak, you listen. i attempt to push you over the edge but i never seem to get you there so i wonder...         why aren't you running as fast as you can love? and i realize...        that when you told me that you would pick me up when i couldn't stand its because you meant it. so thank you for speaking softly, holding me tightly and listening attentively. and for being extremely patient with me even when im not patient with myself.
0
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 1:38 AM UTC
push
she sat curled up at the head of my bed. Pencil protruding from her left ear, as high lighters met torn out notebook paper at the surface of my comforter. I layed to the left of her. Seemingly, attentively reading the last few chapters of The Lost Symbol. Feeling myself drift from the pages, I no longer gave a **** about Dan Brown. I missed her. I have not seen or felt her in weeks. I wish I can blame that on professor New and her desire for an A in his class but I can’t. “baby you hungry?. I can order China man if you like” “no, I ate before you got home” She answered. Never lifting her eyes from the pages. I continued with attempts to reconnect with Dan Brown, but It was useless. As if a book couldn’t keep my attention unless it was loaded with Pictures and pastel colors. My eyes began to roam around the room noticing The unfinished Amber walls from months ago. Our first home project She asked if i would paint them amber. She once loved the sight of it flourishing throughout the skies at dawn. About two months ago was the last time she yearned for that mental picture... -Danielle a. watson
0
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 12:37 PM UTC
Intro. [To something i started in 2010]
.  .  .  .  .  .  . .                 . .  .   .   .   .   .   . i would like a space marked out wherein in silence i'd observe my sacral auguries,   and insularly divine amid mid-dawning light contingencies, to sweep a magic sweep for sunrise-                                                                        -tabula|_|rasa and find, founded in a flout: a sect beyond sects to section self sectionless~ inwrought helix interhelix nest~ and there reside attentively ()blinking()        s l o w      ...ly in rainbow eyelash quiver flow, arrows     soaring      ' '  '    '         '              'centerly to        pin    each                whirl of dream,                        of sleep,                            mneumonic residue,                                              prehensions right    or wrong    clear through -- symbological goo, too-- all too evidently called from out an obvious deep oblivion of plenum om, or so it's said it's seen in clear eidetic percept room of alter overmInd of mindstuff's tomb [*] and form of selfish altar drama gone and soon for looking in or out or neither both oblique, about aboutness-mirror zoom~ to which what spectionism halves behaving in a twofold twining intro free: the finest of the fine: insight-interred        intuited sign quiescently, albeit doubtfully at times, benign . . . .
0
Aug 4, 2012
Aug 4, 2012 at 4:32 PM UTC
(templum) for an inner sectionalism (/escapism)
.  .  .  .  .  .  . .                 . .  .   .   .   .   .   . i would like a space marked out wherein in silence i'd observe my sacral auguries,   and insularly divine amid mid-dawning light contingencies, to sweep a magic sweep for sunrise-                                                                        -tabula|_|rasa and find, founded in a flout: a sect beyond sects to section self sectionless~ inwrought helix interhelix nest~ and there reside attentively ()blinking()        s l o w      ...ly in rainbow eyelash quiver flow, arrows     soaring      ' '  '    '         '              'centerly to        pin    each                whirl of dream,                        of sleep,                            mneumonic residue,                                              prehensions right    or wrong    clear through -- symbological goo, too-- all too evidently called from out an obvious deep oblivion of plenum om, or so it's said it's seen in clear eidetic percept room of alter overmInd of mindstuff's tomb [*] and form of selfish altar drama gone and soon for looking in or out or neither both oblique, about aboutness-mirror zoom~ to which what spectionism halves behaving in a twofold twining intro free: the finest of the fine: insight-interred        intuited sign quiescently, albeit doubtfully at times, benign . . . .
Continue reading...
41
Attentively is an art, It needs patience, skill and imagination, That creates an aura of wellness. 15/8/2025
0
Sep 15, 2025
Sep 15, 2025 at 2:29 PM UTC
Listening
everyday my eyes go fluttering, here and there, everywhere, *every hour seems like a year, waiting for a person in despair,* *not a person I would love, but someone I long to see, every minute of the day, I may sound confusing, but pay attention, 'cause I do.* Attentively watch, await,long, for that one envelope,* inside which would be a page, a white but unblank paper, with words and exclaimations About your explainations, and your whereabout, as I wait for that person To bring me a letter from my beloved, my dear love, my craving, * my sole purpose of living,* *I convince myself by saying, the post man must be lost! * *or perhaps just lazy and late, for he never comes,* and makes me wait in vain, *Sometimes I loose hope, the only thing I've got, but recall your face, and remake my mind,* *saying, maybe times are rough, reason why you can't write to me, these days, perhaps just the work* *that keeps you busy all day, but yes I do wish you could just take time out, to write three words on a card,* i love you. send it to me,end my vacant wait..* *It's been five years now, you never wrote or even called, ah! yes I received a telegram today, Right now I opened it, and as I opened it,* tears kissed my cheeks, of happines that you did care!* but soon my tears of joy turned into blood sobs, when I read in the letter that you were gone, *passed away five years ago, while saving someone at war,* sorrow could not leave my side *knowing it was all I had, and my heart wept, my eyes went numb,* *at the letters on that little note, but at the end were the three words* I had longed to hear,rather see, "he loved you." *Was all I could bear to see, my brain stopped working, my limbs went void, now, I still don't know why, I wait for you..* I'm old now you know? *I wish you could see me, wrinkled and stupid, for I still wait for that day, when I would get to see you at last, with a letter saying those three little words,* "come with me" *tonight and forever, we would make up for lost time, and spend once more our lives,* but for now my longing is still not over, for I still wait for the postman, behind my window,* and I need no doors or even locks, as my gaze still remains fixed on my post box..
0
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 1:14 PM UTC
postbox..
everyday my eyes go fluttering, here and there, everywhere, *every hour seems like a year, waiting for a person in despair,* *not a person I would love, but someone I long to see, every minute of the day, I may sound confusing, but pay attention, 'cause I do.* Attentively watch, await,long, for that one envelope,* inside which would be a page, a white but unblank paper, with words and exclaimations About your explainations, and your whereabout, as I wait for that person To bring me a letter from my beloved, my dear love, my craving, * my sole purpose of living,* *I convince myself by saying, the post man must be lost! * *or perhaps just lazy and late, for he never comes,* and makes me wait in vain, *Sometimes I loose hope, the only thing I've got, but recall your face, and remake my mind,* *saying, maybe times are rough, reason why you can't write to me, these days, perhaps just the work* *that keeps you busy all day, but yes I do wish you could just take time out, to write three words on a card,* i love you. send it to me,end my vacant wait..* *It's been five years now, you never wrote or even called, ah! yes I received a telegram today, Right now I opened it, and as I opened it,* tears kissed my cheeks, of happines that you did care!* but soon my tears of joy turned into blood sobs, when I read in the letter that you were gone, *passed away five years ago, while saving someone at war,* sorrow could not leave my side *knowing it was all I had, and my heart wept, my eyes went numb,* *at the letters on that little note, but at the end were the three words* I had longed to hear,rather see, "he loved you." *Was all I could bear to see, my brain stopped working, my limbs went void, now, I still don't know why, I wait for you..* I'm old now you know? *I wish you could see me, wrinkled and stupid, for I still wait for that day, when I would get to see you at last, with a letter saying those three little words,* "come with me" *tonight and forever, we would make up for lost time, and spend once more our lives,* but for now my longing is still not over, for I still wait for the postman, behind my window,* and I need no doors or even locks, as my gaze still remains fixed on my post box..
Continue reading...
79
It is a murky unsympathetic night; the air is dense but so brittle. The city’s lights are glaring while the buildings are pellucid. The clubs are radiating with pandemonium most can’t seem to ignore. It’s a Friday night, a chaotic age restricted night. Both predators and prey invade the avenue. Walking through is Jane Doe. Tall slim and slightly inebriated. Attached to her skin are stitched together materials snug, satisfying but fleeting. As she prowls, the materials bind and elevate revealing her dermis. Beyond the noise, she hears phrases towards her, rotating her abdomen as she becomes livid but intimidated. Jane accelerates but the stilettos restrict. As she walks faster so does the brute, until finally their paths collide. Jane meets his cold malicious iris. Before altering directions, his callous filled hands swiftly but suddenly snatched her confidence and depth. Her figure jolts as he infiltrates her physique. Others observed nonchalantly and attentively whispering “she has received the appropriate consequences” based on the apparel draped over her figure.
0
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 7:46 PM UTC
Not Asking For It