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"banters" poems
Human directives, veracities unverified   Bellies belching with anger, murderers Udders dripping hate, foundling banters Hunters striking the hungered, unfortunate Glare sight to seek the truth, hold me lets sink Tear motions and debates of inequality My Dafur, the realm of the fur, demise All armed in Sudan, the arid, a battlefield Emergency alarms sirens from 2003 The indefinite complications and hunger A land of the displaced, starving nomads Hear me out in these non-dissolving conflicts Guantanamo bay detention a prison vicious A base for “war in terrorism”, reciprocal laws Inhumane human interrogations persists A breach, a revolt, the hunger riots devolve Force-feeding, torturous measures applied All undressed, humiliated, genitalia exposed A Rwanda slain in divide and rule Civil clashes, mashes, all trashed Swaying war rapes, tapes, the raves Machetes slashing necks and hands A lust of power, a genocide slaughter The Tutsi slewed and unsewn from a patch Autocratic regime boring divisions Territorial ethnic cleansing, a holocaust The oppression of Jews, Romanis, Poles Homosexuals, the disabled and mentally ill Indifference pooled in pits and camps The institutional social indoctrination The honor and killing to expose shame The violation and dishonor of moral fabric For what is “good”, “bad”, fixated moral values Buried waists and head, awaiting stones to hit Confessional secrets of only what lays within A torment watching witnesses, all dangling Marxists calls ships to stow ashore Masses kidnapped, confused in deceit Invalid contracts awaits signatures The white immigrants to be enslaved All aboard, now abroad to revolve labor Wage packages taken to pay for freedom Humans bought and sold to be owned Slaves yorked and counted as assets Bounded to serve plantations and homes A human, non human, a chattel, a slave A debt ******* offended and ***** Untamed and made to obey a master A falling global strings unturned Tunes strumming hate, war and pain Human trafficking, violence, inequality Child abuse, civil conflicts, capitalists Commercialism, zero hour contracts For if we have no rights, I have none For if we have no peace I have none
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Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 6:54 AM UTC
Cruel Inhumane Autocracies
Human directives, veracities unverified   Bellies belching with anger, murderers Udders dripping hate, foundling banters Hunters striking the hungered, unfortunate Glare sight to seek the truth, hold me lets sink Tear motions and debates of inequality My Dafur, the realm of the fur, demise All armed in Sudan, the arid, a battlefield Emergency alarms sirens from 2003 The indefinite complications and hunger A land of the displaced, starving nomads Hear me out in these non-dissolving conflicts Guantanamo bay detention a prison vicious A base for “war in terrorism”, reciprocal laws Inhumane human interrogations persists A breach, a revolt, the hunger riots devolve Force-feeding, torturous measures applied All undressed, humiliated, genitalia exposed A Rwanda slain in divide and rule Civil clashes, mashes, all trashed Swaying war rapes, tapes, the raves Machetes slashing necks and hands A lust of power, a genocide slaughter The Tutsi slewed and unsewn from a patch Autocratic regime boring divisions Territorial ethnic cleansing, a holocaust The oppression of Jews, Romanis, Poles Homosexuals, the disabled and mentally ill Indifference pooled in pits and camps The institutional social indoctrination The honor and killing to expose shame The violation and dishonor of moral fabric For what is “good”, “bad”, fixated moral values Buried waists and head, awaiting stones to hit Confessional secrets of only what lays within A torment watching witnesses, all dangling Marxists calls ships to stow ashore Masses kidnapped, confused in deceit Invalid contracts awaits signatures The white immigrants to be enslaved All aboard, now abroad to revolve labor Wage packages taken to pay for freedom Humans bought and sold to be owned Slaves yorked and counted as assets Bounded to serve plantations and homes A human, non human, a chattel, a slave A debt ******* offended and ***** Untamed and made to obey a master A falling global strings unturned Tunes strumming hate, war and pain Human trafficking, violence, inequality Child abuse, civil conflicts, capitalists Commercialism, zero hour contracts For if we have no rights, I have none For if we have no peace I have none
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55
Theres a lingering cloud when we conversate An awkward vibe we never mention Long gone are our banters and cute debates Keeping feelings minimal, avoiding questions The adorable messsages we used to send Are they ever coming back or was that it? Loving like we used to, is that real or just pretend Keep my broken heart if we ever do split You're slowly fading away from me I don't even think you realise All i can do is let you be And let me deal with all the cries. Perhaps it was the distance Or maybe it was just the time All of this gives me grievance I just want you to remain mine.
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Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 6:19 PM UTC
TheFeelingOfHelplessness WhenSomeoneIsSlowlyFadingAway
He lets her touch him intimately, without emotion                         when in some pretext she is alone, in his cubicle with him, discussing  things inane,                      a software environs need not be  concerned some times when she passes through,                      her longing crosses limits, these days it has become frequent, to the extent others to  notice.                     she found silly excuses, fifth time this morning but he can't hurt her feeling, a team member valued,                       she contributes to his success, as the team leader   He can see her need for comfort,                under her tired eyes dark shadows of sleepiness   lay curled like a depressed mongrel,                      yet another duel she had with that nincompoop    she calls her husband, all through last night;                       a sudden pang he feels calls his wife   asks if she is fine, to ease his guilt that raises                         its head like  a snake from under the cover of grass.   "A housewife has a thousand things to do, why don't you                       find a buxom colleague to flirt, if that is the need"   she banters and teases him on his illogical concerns.                       Through the glass parting he discreetly watches her face    heard a murmur arising inside,"the ***** plans the next move"                            panicked he tried to concentrate on the screen    that looked frightening, the deadline getting nearer and nearer                        by each hour, he heard the heavy foot fall   at that moment he heard a thud, as if something fell down                       everyone was running towards her workstation.
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May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 10:04 AM UTC
The burden
He lets her touch him intimately, without emotion                         when in some pretext she is alone, in his cubicle with him, discussing  things inane,                      a software environs need not be  concerned some times when she passes through,                      her longing crosses limits, these days it has become frequent, to the extent others to  notice.                     she found silly excuses, fifth time this morning but he can't hurt her feeling, a team member valued,                       she contributes to his success, as the team leader   He can see her need for comfort,                under her tired eyes dark shadows of sleepiness   lay curled like a depressed mongrel,                      yet another duel she had with that nincompoop    she calls her husband, all through last night;                       a sudden pang he feels calls his wife   asks if she is fine, to ease his guilt that raises                         its head like  a snake from under the cover of grass.   "A housewife has a thousand things to do, why don't you                       find a buxom colleague to flirt, if that is the need"   she banters and teases him on his illogical concerns.                       Through the glass parting he discreetly watches her face    heard a murmur arising inside,"the ***** plans the next move"                            panicked he tried to concentrate on the screen    that looked frightening, the deadline getting nearer and nearer                        by each hour, he heard the heavy foot fall   at that moment he heard a thud, as if something fell down                       everyone was running towards her workstation.
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28
Let us paint our canvasses on WOMEN!! Curious I stand to unravel your perception of a woman Would you weigh her as a piece of wonder or a gruffly aggressive thunder? She is extraordinary, gorgeously efficient, solely independent! The love she embraces is wider than the infinite heaven and deeper than the fathomless sea. The shallow world with its profound hypocrisy, Banters with a judgemental frown. The world has changed, and so has she. It has known the beautiful rose, tarnished by its prickly thorns, Only the delicate rose, the world, with its abysmal critics, abides by to adorn. She knows her paths, truly determined to achieve her goals, Her patience deserves a salute, her tremendous sacrifice only to satisfy our souls. Dare never to shred the lovely red petals, not knowing her darings! For also the thorns in her are perilous, to blemish a wound till your last. With her chin up and a gaze so ferocious, ocean of wisdom she is vast. She rises, she grows, taking a free flight, venturing to claim new heights, She is benevolent, a ray of sanguine sunshine to your forlorn nights. Walking proud, believing in who she is, glimmering like a star! Born strong she is, refuses to be judged by her scars. She is the teller of her tale, over fears and worries she will prevail. A miracle of God, with a sweet lingering fragrance she leaves a trail, Of patience, commitment, empathy, and unfaltering fortitude !! by ~Mihika Rohatgi
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Mar 7, 2021
Mar 7, 2021 at 10:50 PM UTC
Wonder Woman !!
Govan bar banter: Awa' with ye fankle eejits that blether to naw whit they dinnae naw crabbit, drookit moanin, drouthy yer Havers-yins! each unto their ane an' aye bin. Tell markers scoured an' crowned with glee "alas nae blessing naw bolt of wisdom will er'e to strike thee - tis poor soil an' loads o toil an' broken backs" Ach awa with ye! Fir me the skies an' tracks o wilds an' winds that curl yer lugs Hielan mountains glory summers toty story an' bonny lassies dancing - a gallus stoater! that’s fir me. Party racket in Da’s laden jaiket jangle change fir a dram an' enough tae get the Clockwork Orange hame - times hae changed a wee bit no? Seldom ventured tis seldom gained an' aw the while the wee bairns wail Still, life is yin what yin makes of that which drives the world that breaks yer back Remember love! ma banters free to give an' thats all the mare important when it costs so much tae live.
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Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 8:20 AM UTC
Voices from the North part 6
Clem, the rodeo clown wears a bold painted smile, a bright plaid shirt and bib overalls with cuffs too short for his legs. Between the rides and roping - Clem banters with the emcee, wheeling off groaners and scrambling in and out of his barrel- playing the air-headed bumpkin. But Clem is nobody's fool; when that gate opens, his real work begins. Bull and rider explode from the chute and the game is on. The cowboy weaves and writhes to stay on top for that eight golden seconds that will earn him his pay against a half ton of feral energy stomping and lurching to fling him to the earth. With eyes as keen as a hungry hawk, Clem tracks every buck and lurch for any peril sign - and then it happens: the rider is hurled airborne, landing inches from the driving hooves. Clem seizes the cowboy with a linebacker's grip and swings him safely over the fence as wranglers speed the bull from the ring. The show goes on and Clem has plenty more jokes for the crowd who knows he's never a barrel of laughs when a rider's life is on the line.
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Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 8:14 AM UTC
Brave Rodeo Clown
They said the world tasted bitter, But I didn't know the taste Sitting on my high pedestal I hadn't found my place. They said life was pain, But I jumped right on the train The box was cold, damp Dark heat, a burning lamp Of judgment. I caught it, This sweat-soaked fever A penny for a heartless demeanor It came back, the conflict within Shivers down my skin. Why- that gifted nymph, It lurks in nails, toes, grins A flashlight on throats The world was grim. They said life was pain, But I didn't know the feel My reflected thought Held back, bitten at the heel. Wasn't I seeing gumdrops and candy ladders Pie contests and glowing lanterns Cherry soda and harmless banters Butterfly wings and hula dancers? They said life is pain, But to seek fun and games Look at oneself first Here lies change. Here lies paradise.
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Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 9:47 PM UTC
The World's Taste
Lazy lines never writes she's afraid because of what she might. Can't seem to find her way so she's taking a break from searching. She sways in and out of feelings, from the middle         she can see the edge break but doesn't lose her place. He wanted to hold her as she rambled away, kiss her cheek in the moonlight and play her music by day. Walk barefoot on blacktops, backward steps, tripped in flip flops. He's the scar on her knee, the crackle pop in her spine. She thought to make him baked goods: precious berries too sweet for wine. She feels destruction in creation so her thoughts become less productive and finds resonance in mistakes. Words like hot wind and she's depressing. Ignoring advice from others, ********** Break break break she needs it break break break she bears it cheek bruised from loves subtle encounters, hands shaking from works formal banters, today's not what she expected it'd be: something sweet in the stomach. A smooth something to bring out the best, bitter rest in her breast, she wants to get a better look.
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Jul 9, 2012
Jul 9, 2012 at 7:36 PM UTC
Subcumbant Surprises
Blue floor, blue chair flowered curtains and a view of fields beyond the window. Bed, unmade. What history does that hold, I wonder? Radio plays, chatter, soft footsteps. The Big Man arrives. Kind, gentle, dark eyes. Soft voice, good hands. Pulls no punches. This is what will happen. He says, do I understand? The words, of course I do. The impact? Let's see. The gas man arrives. Banters jovially. Nice of him to try but I'm beyond all that. He knows how to put us out but his experience of the experience? Minimal. I asked. Always throws them, that. When you ask them if they know what it is like. So easy to be glib without pain. This risk and that. Do you understand, they ask once again. Sign here. "Good luck." Never had a surgeon Say, "good luck" before. Sun's gone in, It's raining now.
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Jul 25, 2011
Jul 25, 2011 at 11:37 PM UTC
Good Luck
When you were single, you suddenly decided to join us. Spent most of your days hanging out with us. Made yourself a part of the group, which we all welcomed. Treated you like a sibling almost, banters and jokes abound. Months passed by and we saw you with your partner. When you told us you found your special someone, we couldn't be happier. We should have known though, Your spending time with us was through. When was the last time you joined our gatherings? When was the last time you talked to us about anything? Now that you are no longer single again, We seem to be of no use to you. Now that our friendship has reached a strain, We seem to be dead to you. Some friend you are.
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Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 12:39 AM UTC
#MaybeImJustClingy
There is such a lack, an incredible lack of words to describe how you make me feel There is not a word for shared annoyance of errors, rules of the English language. reading a sentence that makes little sense to confirm someone doesn’t know how to grammar staying up ’til 3, 4, 5 to discuss simplicities and complexities, they felt like the most important things. Sleep is not an important thing. joy of seeing you with a smile rushed banters sarcasm, conditions, laughter, and silly faces. Silent promise to see you later inability to walk and tell you something at the same time. Here is my brain, make of it what you will. Thank you for trusting me with yours. spaces between sleep and getting up for the day. Time, (what is time?) holding, tickling, touching, skin pretending to leave, only to crawl back in to your embrace, warm, watching you rest. your hands that I can’t not touch. Not because you need it, but I do. I hope that’s okay. hugs I don’t want to end, silent or not. Close, being next to you is the safest, most comfortable, peaceful place to be spontaneity and uncertainty kiss you good-bye? or just wink, either is fine it’s not complacent I don’t have to write because I can say the words to you. I have the words to be a person, with you If you find words for all these, I don’t I want them I’d rather have to fully describe them and, even then, it would not be enough to define the noticings and pieces I like about you
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Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 10:27 AM UTC
Alas, alack (an inconsistent poem)
She looks in the mirror and sees her reflection She turns to her friend and gossips for attention She banters and cantors negativity But her words are a poisonous activity The Sun shines as she walks on her way Beauty is everywhere but her vision is gray The past is a weight that she cannot drop Pulling her down relentlessly, it just won't stop It's time to leave her baggage behind A new destination awaits in due time All she needs is peace of mind And better days will soon be prime
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Dec 25, 2016
Dec 25, 2016 at 6:11 AM UTC
Reflections
A busy, coffee-smelling Sunday morning With noisy banters while cooking and dining Natural gatherings with our parents A time to fix the little cracks and bents But alas, my father is under the soil While mother uses her time to toil And I am left in my own devices Do try to imagine how everyday is And oh, please try to remember albeit I am not a sad child at all, at least not yet For I always reason, not in deceit, That my family isn't broken, just incomplete
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Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 6:40 AM UTC
My Family Isn't Broken
Swirling banters red water catches my skin my wrists are bound to the laughing of the crows As the minor tantrum of a rebel I live for the stories that include me the least
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Nov 11, 2020
Nov 11, 2020 at 8:19 PM UTC
I am the Lie
the beep sounds from distant slowly fades inside my head the box quivering with agitation gives more sound of beeps something i never felt before hits me hard, inane race stirs up I- stand back, not knowing when the senses left and came back Thrills - run wild over ups and downs of not so lovely brains the beeps buzz around like the never end ceasing sound of 'OM' something I never desired for me, mockingly banters around I- stand back, not wanting to feel the same air again and the heat What new it possibly could fill me with when everything around is ragged and rusted; When there is no paint to color them and there is no scrubs to clean. What can I possibly speak on my behalf, there is nothing more I have left for explanation. Like some dementia, I circle around my own periphery to find out what could I have left behind and end up questioning all the things which were there with tags of well-accepted meanings. The meanings now slowly rises up like smokes from the chimney of the distant brick factory. It suffocates me already! yet the distance so far and it will never reach me. And I pick out my pen and start giving every subjects and objects disposed in me with the marks of asterisk. Now then, I go for the corner which I can't find anywhere because I am already floating in the space of nowhere land like a nowhere man. Just plain agitating suffocation is the feel you get in nowhere land. Blood ***** up all my stored energy to rush and cover a distance of less than one hand from heart to my brain. It fountains out through my eyes. But no reds!!! Just blue! Let me clear some space from the middle of everything and give a big asterisk with a big question mark '?' on its side. The last (for today) beep sound bring me back to my senses. The message from the other corner of telecom network doesn't seem to make everything alright but I seem to collect my own image on this world. "Maaf garnu hola tapai le samparka garnubhayeko number uthena" I hurl my bag and zip my jacket. Take me where you want to, take me where now I need to Take me home or let me crawl;or just let me kiss the ground Enough is never enough. More is less than more. take me out if you can I- stand back, moving just means passing out and coming back . Let me pass or take me through. Its a cold new year day, isn't it? Well, HAPPY New year!
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Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 4:38 AM UTC
NEW YEAR FEELS
the beep sounds from distant slowly fades inside my head the box quivering with agitation gives more sound of beeps something i never felt before hits me hard, inane race stirs up I- stand back, not knowing when the senses left and came back Thrills - run wild over ups and downs of not so lovely brains the beeps buzz around like the never end ceasing sound of 'OM' something I never desired for me, mockingly banters around I- stand back, not wanting to feel the same air again and the heat What new it possibly could fill me with when everything around is ragged and rusted; When there is no paint to color them and there is no scrubs to clean. What can I possibly speak on my behalf, there is nothing more I have left for explanation. Like some dementia, I circle around my own periphery to find out what could I have left behind and end up questioning all the things which were there with tags of well-accepted meanings. The meanings now slowly rises up like smokes from the chimney of the distant brick factory. It suffocates me already! yet the distance so far and it will never reach me. And I pick out my pen and start giving every subjects and objects disposed in me with the marks of asterisk. Now then, I go for the corner which I can't find anywhere because I am already floating in the space of nowhere land like a nowhere man. Just plain agitating suffocation is the feel you get in nowhere land. Blood ***** up all my stored energy to rush and cover a distance of less than one hand from heart to my brain. It fountains out through my eyes. But no reds!!! Just blue! Let me clear some space from the middle of everything and give a big asterisk with a big question mark '?' on its side. The last (for today) beep sound bring me back to my senses. The message from the other corner of telecom network doesn't seem to make everything alright but I seem to collect my own image on this world. "Maaf garnu hola tapai le samparka garnubhayeko number uthena" I hurl my bag and zip my jacket. Take me where you want to, take me where now I need to Take me home or let me crawl;or just let me kiss the ground Enough is never enough. More is less than more. take me out if you can I- stand back, moving just means passing out and coming back . Let me pass or take me through. Its a cold new year day, isn't it? Well, HAPPY New year!
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24
There was a time when those calls were bothersome; a time, when those talks into the night were like a disturbance. Albeit, those times were the best. Filled with banters, squibbles, and laughters. Those times were the sweetest of the times we spent. But now, everything is all quiet, like a still night without the sound of crickets. And now, I can't help but pine for those times, as I keep mulling in my head, "I crave that disturbance".
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Sep 2, 2025
Sep 2, 2025 at 6:33 AM UTC
I Crave That Disturbance
I am lost in humanity’s sea, that great wind swept expanse of self indulgence and heartbreaking reality. I seek the emotions of peace where no such emotion exists, only that of the state of peace, the situation of peace; negotiated by power ****** and money makers. The heart and soul have nothing to do with it instead; it is a chip to be thrown upon the worlds table, a tool to justify misguided means. The elements of true peace are far flung and their intent, jaded in envious green shades of self servency. I scream into a canyon of wonder, and singular echoes return and return. My voice; the only answer to my only question. I ask the winds of this willowa to cease and calm their tirades. Instead, the request falls upon emaciated ears and hardened hearts. A world exists in this expanse where my unheard calls ring. The din of self absorption outplays my simple plea. Instead the flags of bias, the banners of silent hypocrisy, flap in winds of fouling air Upon a society that has no care for the simple emotions, those of peace. The hard, cold reality that I am forced to realize. The banters of the ignorant that brings tears to my eyes. Some may call my wondering that of the mere naïve. Then I am that in these terms. For my wish is to see all At peace.
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Jan 11, 2011
Jan 11, 2011 at 3:25 PM UTC
Elusive
Coriander sprinklings and subtle tastes as we lean together and giggle as children exchanging nibbles and pecks of love at the gentle lullings of our sleeping boats And the sun would shine on our dark heads burning our hairs and lighting the fires echoing our laughter while we filled the earth with eternal love that would span the sky And all the distances would pull us apart taking our lives this way and that winding through the darkest routes enshrining our happiness to the past But we would - as always - remember well clinging to the smells of the world keeping our hearts closed to disruptions but letting our confidence sway–––– And yet the world would bring us back to hear our giggles and childish banters taking delight at the slightest triggers and painting lives in watercolour So moments pass and times repeat clear in the eye of our observers But crimson shades and all spring scents watch our bonded rains and shines And for every moment I reflect you shine brighter than luminance.
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Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 10:14 PM UTC
Watercolour
Dinners under the chandelier Meaningless chatter and happy laughter The delicious smell of quesadilla Drifting through the air from the counter Grandma rocking in a corner Little ones sparked before her Marveling at her skill with the needle Entranced by the music from Grandpa's fiddle Stories by the moonlight Folktales by the fireplace Connecting dots with the starlight Losing track of time in space She never knew the word 'pain' Then she felt the pain of death Till the betrayal of Cain Till she craved the high of **** Now pain is all she knows Pain in all forms and doses Be it through bullets and blows Or even the thorns of roses She's grown so used to it It's started to feel normal She's grown so accustomed Without it she's incomplete As she sits near the cliff's edge She dares to think of happier times As she uses her foot as a wedge She remembers the oven clock's chimes She remembers mama's cookies Her favourite was chocolate She remembers papa's banters And Nana's beliefs in fate She recounts Grandpa's pipe His delicious mixed smells of tobacco and old person That must be where the crave started Her crave for the high of forgetting As the nostalgia washes over her She dares herself to cry She removes her footed wedge And begins to fly As she flies she feels nothing Only an empty fortress A fortress filled with echoes Echoes of happiness
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Apr 13, 2017
Apr 13, 2017 at 8:13 AM UTC
Echoes of Happiness
That year we met watching you smile from afar i dared not look back that month we started getting used to texting on a daily basis exchanging stories and banters encouraging each other to go through things we had to go through that day you said out of the blue you decided to stop talking to me cold turkey i could not that night i saw some of ourselves in some Makoto Shinkai movies you and i we could not go back it seemed that moment i let it happen you and i became sudden strangers.
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Jun 20, 2021
Jun 20, 2021 at 7:44 AM UTC
Strangers
The queen of the coffee house Sips away at her hot drink, Looking quite royal as she banters With her equally regal girlfriend. She sports a Greek goddess armband And the dress of a Spanish gypsy. The queen of the coffee house Wears a pendant of gold Which rests halfway between Her belly button and her chin, Nestled neatly among Curly locks of sunshine. The queen of the coffee house Reclines on hillsides at sunset, Stretched across Persian linens, Eating pomegranates and vines of grapes, Whispering sonnets into the wind, And strumming French folk tunes on an antique ukulele. Actually, the queen of the coffee house Appears to be a business major, With such words as “stock” and “invest” And “income” and “finance” Bleeding across the room from her table. So much for the whole gypsy thing.
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Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 10:47 PM UTC
Queen of the Coffee House
Bring the angels and shine Bleach the smile and shimmer I rushed in the isles of the world I rested halfway through the island The tiredness of the unforgiving pain The strain of trying to explain myself They saw my social awkwardness They peeped as I hid by a corner Seldom backwardness is my nature So so in a world where introversion is a sin I have never been a fool, just turned down I have never been unconfident, just confined I have never been sociable, just a lone wolf I have never been lonely, just absently present I have never been old, just youthful at heart Bring those songs you chatter, take my hand Banters of a hunter hunt as I revolve cyclically I pass the ball in this deserted court in a park I park my back on the decayed timber as I wait The sire of the ailing livelihood we call life The site where we watch as the sun illuminate I saw your sincerity and cocooned you in me I spoke your language as you pushed me in an abyss Seldom backwardness is my nature So so in a world where introversion is a sin
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Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 3:36 PM UTC
A World Where Introversion is a Sin
Your cruel judgements set my whole body in bind Your dense accusations developed to be my weakness Your harsh words pierced through my rock built mind Your worthless banters broke the brick walls I built for my defense And here I am, building my fortress anew For I am defenseless once again
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Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 10:02 AM UTC
Defenseless
When the pain becomes unbearable I take my headphones and cover my ears I turn the volume up to block out their banters Eric Himan Fill my soul with words that make me feel okay let your Folk calm the angry waters in my soul Mother Monster let me know that I am safe and I should never give up Adele teach me of love lost Ke$ha let me party till I feel my body go numb All of you! Sing! Sing and be my shield!
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May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 3:08 PM UTC
Artists Sing!
You imagine yourself to be the thickest tree Streaming flourishly with bright green feathers Down your arms into your wonderous oak, so free Is where you imagine your polished banters Dreams like fantasies, dancing in the wind Swaying to a rhythmic, yet succulent beat We all fall victim to its lure, in our mind That which we follow appears only in the heat We imagine ourselves like we're singular, alone The voices around are calling, yelling for our release In a melodic manner, the most beautiful tone We can't break from our cells, but we can keep the peace Our knowledge may seem futile, like a useless tool That won't take us any closer to our freedom But we will rise up, our hope is no fool That which we know, will only increase our wisdom Others believe in the purity of our hallowed earth The secrets of our hidden pleasures From the beginning, its noble birth We've been greedily hoarding the treasures From the reserviors of our fate, have we foretold We are responsible, and follow our liabilities Knowing nothing by the time we grow old That which is young has endless possibilities
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Jan 19, 2010
Jan 19, 2010 at 10:07 PM UTC
That Which Is Young