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Nassif Younes May 2016
Hey
Check this beat
Check us all unique
We're a vegetarian, Buddhist, Bohemian clique.
They're looking at us funny
But I will not despair
I've got a Chinese tattoo
To show you
That I don't really care.

I'm changing my attire every couple of days
I'm changing my religion every couple of days
I've got a crucifix to impress these chicks
She's got a crop top to ***** this ****.
Candlestick body baby keeping it real
With her hair full of chemicals
And face full of steel.
Keeping it real
With a face full of steel.

You are all so original
So o-******-riginal
Keepin' it digital
Because you're so original
Kickin it back
With all the aboriginals
Because you're so original
Didgeridoo original
Get down and do the 'riginal
Do the do the 'riginal
Origi-gi-gi boom-tsch
Origi-******-iginal

**** yourself

Because living
Is a trend

**** yourself
Because living is a trend
**** yourself
Because you're cooler
When you're dead.
Vilene Joubert Oct 2015
Restless
This body and the mind
Running away
With these thoughts of mine

Craving the dark
To find that peace
No one can offer but God

But where is He to find
When we wonder off alone to the dark

Why would he allow this evil
The pain some have to carry around

Why would He give us choices
Knowing we won't make the right one
And just regret it in the morning

Why would he allow
For the precious ones to be taken away so early..

I don't care if He wants His Angels...
What about us left behind??

He will not give us more than we can handle??
But why bring so much sorrow to our lives??

Staring down on all of us
Seeing the pain we endure daily
How much more should we deal with
Before we are left in pieces
 
Why break us apart
Leave us with broken hearts
Is this our awesome God???

Don't blame me for my questions
Unless you have walked my path

He has forsaken us
Truth be told out loud

But our silence is forever golden ...
Hungry Panda Sep 2018
I feel the pain
Only will feel
When I saw you fade away
I promised myself
You would never fade
From my heart
And now your in my head
Wish you were here
Next to me
Wish you loved me
Wish you stayed
But you just wished me away
If I could go back in time
I would try and make things right
If we could be
You would see
I feel the pain only I can feel
Hungry Panda Nov 2018
You should follow me,

I think my poems are good.

I'm pretty awesome.
Robert Ronnow Aug 2015
I like immigrants, immigration. Legal immigration, Jane
passionately corrects. Actually my goal is a borderless world.
That's a new idea to her.
Gathering the neighborhood like family.
The men discuss sterilizing welfare mothers. I say You're working
      around the edges,
humanity has exceeded the carrying capacity of the planet,
even those with jobs. And spouses. And houses.
Yet it's an idyll of an early summer evening, new cut grass,
two baseball teams of children playing in it. Safe from Pakistan.
News photos of Muslim refugees, women in blue robes, biblically
carrying children away from holocaust. The fundamentalist army
not far behind, beheading sinners, sure in its righteousness
as the Holy Roman Empire.

Somehow Joel Osteen the evangelist comes up
while talking about how the Catholic Church is irrelevant in North
      America,
even Latin America and Africa are going evangelical.
Izzi likes Osteen, awesome extemporaneous speaker, no teleprompter,
up from bootstraps message and my wife says he's probably Jewish.
No one wants to go there.
Fortunately no one claims the Holocaust never happened or slavery
      was voluntary.
What is the carrying capacity of the planet? Two children
have replacement value. In China is it each couple or each adult that gets
one offspring? As life expectancy and standards rise,
family size diminishes. We draw together into greener, tighter cities
surrounded by farms surrounded by forests.
The children of three monotheistic religions, atheists and agnostics
play in city streets, work farm fields, explore forests, deserts,
      grasslands, space.

Two ancient female poets: Enheduanna and Sappho
are a revelation. The clarity of their complaints:
lost lover, lost city.
www.ronnowpoetry.com
Eryri Sep 2018
Thank you for the memories,
The unexpected, sudden hits of nostalgia
Taking me back to carefree days
Of playing football after a summer rainstorm,
Of laughing in woodwork class,
Of my grandmother's awesome cakes.

Like time travel on the cheap,
You weather away the years,
And the strata of cynicism and regret,
Momentarily eroding my reality,
Revealing the manchild at my core,
Allowing him the briefest chance to once again explore.

But these are unpredictable reveries,
Three dimensional snatches of memories.
It's time they developed some kind of smell recorder,
Just like sights and sounds can be held for posterity.
But such technology would not compare to my physiological wonder;
Magically transforming scent into vivid memories.
Khoi-San Nov 2018
He
flew
they saw
called
it
Icarus
Melted
SOLSTICED
Legend
of
the
Sun
The stars i know do not speak of judgment,
good or evil, plagues, famine nor to say that
great men will do well or fail.
They speak of constant beauty, truth
and all together say something awesome.
Laura Jane Apr 2015
I am with you
here in this place
scanning with cool
and radiant eyes
Causing silver haired women
to pantomime
The Thing Thats Wrong With Us:
their heads shake
and their thumbs waggle in the air
like worms.

Our thumbs irk them,
patience wearing
thin as their lips.
They are so sad for us,
for our murderous stupidity.
They know
what is wrong:

because our empty carcasses
litter their living rooms
the busses they ride
the classes they teach
slumped
in the seats where we left them.

Heidegger said
that attention creates access to the world,
And we've crept away to the edge
dangling our attentions over the inviting precipice
like the sorcerer's apprentice
unsure
of how it all takes place
but certain
of it’s awesome power.
The well overflows
and we are swept away
as the women look on
Dead lover Jan 2016
Well before you know anything else about him,
I'm so happy right now, with my eyes filled upto brim,
Well yeah, it's about a special friend of mine,
Call him a friend, a daddy or a birdie, all are fine.

He's a down to Earth person, with no time to even show it!
Yet people call my birdie, insensitive!
I don't know what do they want to say,
And why as negative they want him to be portrayed.

He's not weird, just unique,
He's not being selective,just doing something for himself for the first time,
You can't call him Selfish.

He's not you, He's not me,
He's better support than us, you'll see!

He's an awesome person, with his awesomeness obscure,
That doesn't make him insecure!
He's no good around people you say,
But in reality, He's the same around all..

He's not fake, expressions he doesn't feel like he doesn't know how to make.
He's just too good the way he reacts,
'cause there's just one way he acts,
That's same,
And no adjective I know,
Could complete his name...

I call him a dad as of yet,
So that such an independent person of humanity,
I don't forget.

**Dad, Please stay
Stay my
Dad
Ash to mouth

divide north and south
east and west,

shout  with class of Scout
let it out with griffin clout

we here we out , hear me out
— rhymes in time without

silent shrines to mime
cleared the crowd

covered eyes and mouth
over body desert shroud

if vengeance is your business
then from swords to plow

en lakesh

an eye for an eye binds
the all to be blind
but you can’t unsee the signs

no thoughts unclouded by loss
out the window I toss
mosaic fragments that cost
health and awesome sauce

Nazareth gutted commandments
by anarchy spelled
disaster after culture
massive ego it swell

up the road ahead a pit depress the juncture
so we spit the dirt divide just to touch the other
from pup to wolf so many bites, a pitted puncture
so much disfunct the fight till all be winded lungs sir

you can run
but  from
gamma ray
you no hide
passed a black hole
wand inside
a body died
but it’s alright
(it’s heaven sight
till Zombie night )

animate dead necromantic black ring
the rhythm of life and death a chronic swing

the pendulum blade cross over cosmic skin
consciousness draw out from within

traced the win which wound round tat to skeleton
a dusty tome bound and crafted man

medicine subtracted by the head that spin
in the sky and its happening, blessen-ings
the miracle is mystery u cant guess it

talking 3 eye see
talking vip
climb high as canopy
walking so
my shadow lands under me.

ten toes touch to the dusty roads
when toads appear throats close

mighta had the Midas touch
still the golden one
was too much to flush

you might live in Laos
you my livid crowd
you might live it now
neva hit my limit how
cause you live in now

when you wake up proud
timid mind plowed
divid-dine fill the cloud
insta crowd wowed
this I vowed
life isn’t life until it’s loved
that is the answer
but so few live it.
Life calls to us to take it and ride as if its our mount,
but there are no more equestrians.

Break the stallion
atticus wilson Aug 2018
She is my friend
She is the one who said that
She is not interested in my love
She is independent
She is wonderful
She is beautiful
She is kind
She is witty
She is smart
She is my Pam Beasly
She is my Rachel Greene
She is my Gilmore Girl
She is the one that I wait for
She is perfect
She is my forbidden fruit
She is Awesome
She is Nice
She is Neat
She is Amazingly smart
She is a goddess of perfection
Masuda Khan Juti Apr 2017
She took two photos of these elephant paper weights. He observed. He said something about how finely detailed they were. They smiled. He had grey eyes. “Where you from?”
“What brings you here?”
“Gap year?”
So many question. Two souls hungry to know more about the other.
“The south is really nice”
“Yeah listening closely, you do have a slight Italian accent! ”
They talked.
She pointed back at the elephants. “They’re for instagram.” She really hoped he was on Instagram.
“You on Instagram?”
He curled his lips. Regret it seemed.
“Well I’m on Facebook. But I also write letters.”
She said something like she thought that was cool or that that was awesome.  It wasn’t clear for her either. All she  was thinking sadly was that she couldn’t give him her address! They’d just met!
Her cousin interrupted. They were going to get icecream. She hastily said bye. It all happened so quick. She blurted out that she wished he had a great life ahead. He nodded. She wrinkled her nose. She left. He stood there. And like the movies she looked back. But as real life is not in slow motion, the last smile she gave was short and it didn’t give her time to change her mind. And maybe stay back. Not have icecream.

That she is I.

That he is that boy

I met at the shop

where they sell...

elephant paper weights.
I'LL NEVER EVER FORGIVE MYSELF FOR NOT HAVING GIVEN HIM MY ADDRESS
Samuel Hoffmann Jul 2018
It was just perfect,
Not knowing;
but not needing to know either.

Everything was peaceful,
Everything was pretty,
Everything was perfect.

You'd have fun,
And you had friends,
There was family,
And it was fabulous.

There were no problems,
No fights,
No bullies,
No real fears.

Just you,
And your stuffed elephant,
Against the monsters under the bed,
--And your siblings.

Life, life was awesome.
And then we grew up.
And despite's what everyone said,
And what everyone thought,
And how everyone acted,
And how everyone treated us.
I still think life is awesome.
oceans by Seafret <- great song :)
Olivia Jul 2018
Our city is painted with thoughts and feelings
Walls unkempt and overrun with expression
Made to fit movie screens with their perfection

Our city is lit by lovers and dreamers
They hold hands without caring and kiss in the daylight
Unlike me, they wouldn’t mind who was staring

Our city is a film still in my memory
Growing more valuable with time
The white becoming a little more golden with age

Our city is a privilege to me, a sacred moment
Not a city anymore but a nostalgic pang of laughter and a dull awareness of seconds
Always passing too quickly, like a reservoir that everyone knows will soon be emptied but that is drained anyway

Our city is bookstores and mountains
Dark cars and dim statues
Nightwalkers and busy streets

Our city is happiness and fear and youth and color and reckless and forward and awesome

But maybe Our City

Is just mine.
Graff1980 Sep 2018
The night
is a torn tapestry
where celestial bodies
burn beautifully
incinerating
the cosmic stitching
that bind us,

quantum energy
unraveling
all of reality,
as I stare
stupidly enthralled
by the awesome
complexity.

Silvers spheres
of gaseous spirals
spew atomic fury.

Other poets
and painters
have presented it better,
such a sweet
starry starry night
made to delight
all of us,

but this time
I return
my reflections
with the love
and devotion
born of
a dreamer’s
dark predilection
to romanticize
every aspect
of our lives.
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