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"bawl" poems
I used to think that sadness was beautiful, But what is the point of it all? We're supposed to be youthful! They said time and time over that it would pass, but to be truthful: The feeling and expressing pain or sorrow for sins, it's all we feel: ruthful So in the end, what is the point of life at all? When all we do is sit around and bawl, "I just wanted to be pretty Cristi, just like a doll!" But isn't it more important to be happy, above all? All I have been feeling for the past couple of years is pain, Even though all I have wrapped around my neck is a golden chain Rather than his clenched fingers restricting against my jugular vein, With a voice in the back of my mind reminding me of my engraved Mark of Cain, It begs and exclaims, and it can't seem to remain restrained, But to ease me of my pain, they'd say: "Here, have a glass of Champagne." Can't you see what this mystery is doing to me? I can't seem to break the shackles that would set me free, All I'm reminded of is of my unfinished Master's Degree. "Is that all that matters to you?!" I dare to plea, "But what about my happiness, or my hemophilia b?!" Their expressions are forever carved in my mind: dropped jaws and widened eyes, "If it is such a sin to be happy, can't one consider the act of decriminalize?!" They'd all put up such a convincing and eerie disguise As if it would turn back the clock to avoid their end, their demise But I could tell by their silenced, hushed lips and snake eyes: My inquiry deserved a Nobel prize What was it about my question that turned my loved ones against me? They wouldn't dare turn their heads my way, they'd continue to sip on their black tea As if I were a ghost, or some sort of banshee The loss of my sanity is what they could foresee -
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Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 12:41 PM UTC
Happiness
I used to think that sadness was beautiful, But what is the point of it all? We're supposed to be youthful! They said time and time over that it would pass, but to be truthful: The feeling and expressing pain or sorrow for sins, it's all we feel: ruthful So in the end, what is the point of life at all? When all we do is sit around and bawl, "I just wanted to be pretty Cristi, just like a doll!" But isn't it more important to be happy, above all? All I have been feeling for the past couple of years is pain, Even though all I have wrapped around my neck is a golden chain Rather than his clenched fingers restricting against my jugular vein, With a voice in the back of my mind reminding me of my engraved Mark of Cain, It begs and exclaims, and it can't seem to remain restrained, But to ease me of my pain, they'd say: "Here, have a glass of Champagne." Can't you see what this mystery is doing to me? I can't seem to break the shackles that would set me free, All I'm reminded of is of my unfinished Master's Degree. "Is that all that matters to you?!" I dare to plea, "But what about my happiness, or my hemophilia b?!" Their expressions are forever carved in my mind: dropped jaws and widened eyes, "If it is such a sin to be happy, can't one consider the act of decriminalize?!" They'd all put up such a convincing and eerie disguise As if it would turn back the clock to avoid their end, their demise But I could tell by their silenced, hushed lips and snake eyes: My inquiry deserved a Nobel prize What was it about my question that turned my loved ones against me? They wouldn't dare turn their heads my way, they'd continue to sip on their black tea As if I were a ghost, or some sort of banshee The loss of my sanity is what they could foresee -
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30
I beg inside my soul to have you. I don't love you. I want to feel passion, desire, and the warmth of another body pressing against me I could grab any man I wanted, but I want you. I see your brown hair let me run my fingers through, just once Your eyes soft earth Your lips pink lilacs And all I want is your body Which is very saddening. To only want to use someone, then toss them aside like trash How can you? And still fall asleep at night without thinking about a face wet with tears your fault I simply want to do to you What you have done To All the women before me, The same song as a trickery I want you to fall in love with me an instrument meets the music I want you to hold me close and kiss me, as you share your fears and truths. a melody plays softly I want you to believe in love because of me Think of me, breathe me, and miss me when we are not together accelerato tempo Until one day you meet me in a corner booth at our favorite restaurant, and I rip your heart to shreds *Look, I never loved you. I lied. I used you to get what I want. You are a pathetic, self-serving dung heap that only thinks about himself. You wooed me, I pretended to like you, so I could dig under your thick facade of masculinity, and discover your sensitive side. I know what you are--man whore--and I enjoyed using you. You can lie to everyone, every woman from this point on, but ten years from now, when you are married to wife number four and you are waiting for her to come home and she never does, I want you to crawl into the bed you made and bawl like the whining, sniveling baby you truly become at night when no one else is around you. I hope 'lonely' presses you down so hard it hurts to breathe. And maybe then you might turn into a different man or at least your miniscule brain will have an inkling of true heartbreak. Doubtful though--I win. You lose* Then I get up and walk away from you, ignoring any pleas and ****** slurs. Caesura
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Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 12:39 AM UTC
Revenge Symphony (Payback Heartbreak)
I beg inside my soul to have you. I don't love you. I want to feel passion, desire, and the warmth of another body pressing against me I could grab any man I wanted, but I want you. I see your brown hair let me run my fingers through, just once Your eyes soft earth Your lips pink lilacs And all I want is your body Which is very saddening. To only want to use someone, then toss them aside like trash How can you? And still fall asleep at night without thinking about a face wet with tears your fault I simply want to do to you What you have done To All the women before me, The same song as a trickery I want you to fall in love with me an instrument meets the music I want you to hold me close and kiss me, as you share your fears and truths. a melody plays softly I want you to believe in love because of me Think of me, breathe me, and miss me when we are not together accelerato tempo Until one day you meet me in a corner booth at our favorite restaurant, and I rip your heart to shreds *Look, I never loved you. I lied. I used you to get what I want. You are a pathetic, self-serving dung heap that only thinks about himself. You wooed me, I pretended to like you, so I could dig under your thick facade of masculinity, and discover your sensitive side. I know what you are--man whore--and I enjoyed using you. You can lie to everyone, every woman from this point on, but ten years from now, when you are married to wife number four and you are waiting for her to come home and she never does, I want you to crawl into the bed you made and bawl like the whining, sniveling baby you truly become at night when no one else is around you. I hope 'lonely' presses you down so hard it hurts to breathe. And maybe then you might turn into a different man or at least your miniscule brain will have an inkling of true heartbreak. Doubtful though--I win. You lose* Then I get up and walk away from you, ignoring any pleas and ****** slurs. Caesura
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33
A Response to Thought Catalog Number One. "She won't touch your stuff because she doesn't want to do anything" Which also includes leaving her bed before six pm meeting your friends or seeing the movie you've been begging her to see since the trailer came out last year Number Two "She'll probably forget you borrowed money from her" or to pay the bills, or your birthday or getting groceries Number Three "She's a cheap date" more than likely because she doesn't care where you go but she wants to be back in her bed the minuet she gets into your car because now her insecurities are buzzing in her ears and clawing at her throat Number Four "She probably doesn't want to meet your family" sitting in her room terrified that she's not good enough that she will never be good enough and they won't accept her Number Five "She will probably get drunk and you can have *** with her" Number Six "You can get free drugs!" she knows about her missing pain pills and antidepressants but she won't say a thing because you love her, right? it's selfish of her to think she needs those she has you. right? Number Seven "She has poor memory and a short attention span" Unaware of whether its Monday or Thursday or if she ate this week Number Eight "She won't talk that much" instead she can soak up your words and turn them against herself until they infect her insides with acidic words ugly/fat/ugly/stupid/ugly/useless/ugly/worthless Number Nine "She'll pamper you because she's sensitive" Here's the newest game you wanted I hope it makes up for me not being good enough Here's some money, go out with friends I don't want to bring you down Number Ten "It'll make you look better" She's a charity case a lost cause who lost herself but she's so lucky she found you She's like an accessory that you drag around she'll make you look perfect won't she? It's supposed to be simple. Dating the dead girl walking. besides the fact she'll bawl her eyes out every time you grab your keys or the fact you have to deal with the burden of having to hide your mother's steak knives so you can sleep in peace without worrying whether you will find her lifeless body on your bathroom floor Number ten You can romanticize the pain she goes through everyday while her hourglass hearts last grain of sand falls to the bottom but you will NEVER be able to say you were the hero.
0
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
10 Reasons to date a Girl with Depression (A Slam Poem)
A Response to Thought Catalog Number One. "She won't touch your stuff because she doesn't want to do anything" Which also includes leaving her bed before six pm meeting your friends or seeing the movie you've been begging her to see since the trailer came out last year Number Two "She'll probably forget you borrowed money from her" or to pay the bills, or your birthday or getting groceries Number Three "She's a cheap date" more than likely because she doesn't care where you go but she wants to be back in her bed the minuet she gets into your car because now her insecurities are buzzing in her ears and clawing at her throat Number Four "She probably doesn't want to meet your family" sitting in her room terrified that she's not good enough that she will never be good enough and they won't accept her Number Five "She will probably get drunk and you can have *** with her" Number Six "You can get free drugs!" she knows about her missing pain pills and antidepressants but she won't say a thing because you love her, right? it's selfish of her to think she needs those she has you. right? Number Seven "She has poor memory and a short attention span" Unaware of whether its Monday or Thursday or if she ate this week Number Eight "She won't talk that much" instead she can soak up your words and turn them against herself until they infect her insides with acidic words ugly/fat/ugly/stupid/ugly/useless/ugly/worthless Number Nine "She'll pamper you because she's sensitive" Here's the newest game you wanted I hope it makes up for me not being good enough Here's some money, go out with friends I don't want to bring you down Number Ten "It'll make you look better" She's a charity case a lost cause who lost herself but she's so lucky she found you She's like an accessory that you drag around she'll make you look perfect won't she? It's supposed to be simple. Dating the dead girl walking. besides the fact she'll bawl her eyes out every time you grab your keys or the fact you have to deal with the burden of having to hide your mother's steak knives so you can sleep in peace without worrying whether you will find her lifeless body on your bathroom floor Number ten You can romanticize the pain she goes through everyday while her hourglass hearts last grain of sand falls to the bottom but you will NEVER be able to say you were the hero.
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90
my chest feels tight, fight or flight, i can barely breathe, and i'm starting to heave. i can't even begin to explain, how horrible this is, i can't concentrate at all, and i'm starting to bawl. i feel like i'm dying, but to be honest, i'd rather be dead, than feel like this instead. n.l.b
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Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 5:12 PM UTC
panic attack
Jim’s younger sister Followed you everywhere and stood watching as you rode the old car around the field or whizzed around on their motorbike to the cheers and shouts from the fence Monica why don’t you go off and play Jim said yes said Pete her other brother go play with your dolls go take a run and jump she said and still stood watching you her eyes fixed on you like wasps on a jam jar I want to watch him ride she said and stood with her hands on her hips waiting until you stopped the bike and got off and wandered over to you and said I like the way you ride like how you sway and swerve on the bike and you smiled at her and took in her short stature her dark eyes her determined expression and as Pete rode off on the bike and Jim stood on the fence calling to him Monica put her hand in yours and said wish you were my brother I know you’d let me ride the bike or car and not tease me or bawl me out I guess I would let you ride the bike or car you said and sensed her small hand in yours her thumb rubbing against your skin but seeing as you’re not my brother she whispered maybe you could marry me one day and we could ride off into the sunset like they do in the movies in Jim’s old car yes sure maybe you said knowing inside that’d be a bridge too far.
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Jul 24, 2012
Jul 24, 2012 at 3:56 PM UTC
AFTER THE BIKE RIDE.
And, you left me all alone, left in such a silence that I could't even believe you are about to leave. You left an undefined scar in my soul and my teardrops enchanted those memories we shared together and laughed over them hours. You went away in such silence that all I could do is just NOTHING but hearing you to mourn in such dogma. Tears just drop by my cheeks and I just wish you to come down and tell me,               "I am here, my darling,                Don't you worry child....                I can't ever leave you alone." They said, life isn't fair, life is never trustworthy. Now I see an feel that hard every night. I never felt that I can't hear your voice anymore anytime sooner or later. It all comes and goes.... what matters is the in-between time you spend together by thick and thin holding on to each other. You were lying on the bed when I last saw you and there also you were fighting to get over that period. Remember? We laughed there too when you said you had 26 milk pies and I strictly said, "Get well soon Dadu. After you go home you will be having curd-rice and "Khichudi". ..... And God never wanted that to happen maybe. After that you couldn't go back home, you left this virtual world that very night after suffering so profusely. You were 72 and I was 22; but we never bothered about this algorithm. There were healthy talks over he sunsets, over the pages of my sketchbooks. You were my biggest inspiration and critique for every work; cause you always questioned their existence and morality. You always chanted honesty throughout your life and give me strength, so that I can follow your path. One day, you will be a proud grandfather who will be seeing my works getting recognised all around the world and then we will laugh together... Me, from the terrace and You, from that sky. Come soon, come in a disguise, come as my soulmate, come as my midnight friend..... ....... but come back, please. because Payel misses your presence and laughter. I will weep and bawl on my bed some nights, knowing I can't see you anytime ever. That heart-wrenching pain and undefined scar in my lotus-heart will bloom someday with your desired presence in my success and failure both....    I believe so. I believe in you, I believe in us. Because, God snatched one of my biggest possession without even asking for it. You have to come back..... ... and you will. To those talks and platonic love, you are being missed Dadu. I wish, I had some digits to call you up just to ask, if they are providing you with some spicy food or not. LIVE FOREVER. YOUNG HEART N SOUL.
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Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 4:17 PM UTC
And..... You left me all alone...
And, you left me all alone, left in such a silence that I could't even believe you are about to leave. You left an undefined scar in my soul and my teardrops enchanted those memories we shared together and laughed over them hours. You went away in such silence that all I could do is just NOTHING but hearing you to mourn in such dogma. Tears just drop by my cheeks and I just wish you to come down and tell me,               "I am here, my darling,                Don't you worry child....                I can't ever leave you alone." They said, life isn't fair, life is never trustworthy. Now I see an feel that hard every night. I never felt that I can't hear your voice anymore anytime sooner or later. It all comes and goes.... what matters is the in-between time you spend together by thick and thin holding on to each other. You were lying on the bed when I last saw you and there also you were fighting to get over that period. Remember? We laughed there too when you said you had 26 milk pies and I strictly said, "Get well soon Dadu. After you go home you will be having curd-rice and "Khichudi". ..... And God never wanted that to happen maybe. After that you couldn't go back home, you left this virtual world that very night after suffering so profusely. You were 72 and I was 22; but we never bothered about this algorithm. There were healthy talks over he sunsets, over the pages of my sketchbooks. You were my biggest inspiration and critique for every work; cause you always questioned their existence and morality. You always chanted honesty throughout your life and give me strength, so that I can follow your path. One day, you will be a proud grandfather who will be seeing my works getting recognised all around the world and then we will laugh together... Me, from the terrace and You, from that sky. Come soon, come in a disguise, come as my soulmate, come as my midnight friend..... ....... but come back, please. because Payel misses your presence and laughter. I will weep and bawl on my bed some nights, knowing I can't see you anytime ever. That heart-wrenching pain and undefined scar in my lotus-heart will bloom someday with your desired presence in my success and failure both....    I believe so. I believe in you, I believe in us. Because, God snatched one of my biggest possession without even asking for it. You have to come back..... ... and you will. To those talks and platonic love, you are being missed Dadu. I wish, I had some digits to call you up just to ask, if they are providing you with some spicy food or not. LIVE FOREVER. YOUNG HEART N SOUL.
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59
they say that love never dies could never curl and bawl and cry love is the purest of all emotions even turbulent and torrid it is pure, never horrid but I'm tired of loving you or seeing your jaw, you finger, your tooth and feeling a rush of fear that i will never escape from this anxious pit of unclear good intentions and impure thoughts so i do what i am taught i slog through the love, the lust the misplaced affections because i need, i must be graced with one smile, a small glimpse even if my feelings you already dismissed i was going to tell you, don't you know? i was going to knock my feelings off their petty throne i thought that maybe if i let it all out i would not feel a gout of excitement for the forbidden feelings that maybe i could stop pealing in laughter at the smallest thing when i thought you weren't looking, as i watched you sing that i would have the control of my buzzing desire but now i refuse to fan the fire my friends still egg me on. Valentines Day is on Saturday, what could go wrong? I've found that people are great at giving advice when it wont affect them even once or twice but they know that you know off my misplaced affection you see it now in every inflection she lied and told you behind my back and then asked me to cut her some slack when now that tenuous friendship we once had was broken and i only ask you to give me a token of admitting your silence rings out louder than any no
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Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 11:51 PM UTC
I'm tired of loving you
There are so many times in life When we are forced to choose Do we help someone else win Even if it means that we lose For me the choice has been easy Always fill other people with cheer Even if the choice hurts me, It's worth it to remove their tear. There are times when it gets lonely Putting others before one's self There are times when it almost feels Like I put my own needs on a shelf While doing all I can for others I try my best to never complain But even with my best efforts It's me that gets left out in the rain When someone needs a friend I'm always the one that they call Then when they are feeling better I'm ignored; left alone too bawl I don't regret the things I have done Because it helped show them I care But sometimes it'd be nice for me If somebody could be there Throughout my entire life I've been hurt putting others first But never having the favor returned ...that is definitely the worst.
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Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 4:28 AM UTC
Benevolence
Push another button I dare you I'll be gone before you can mock me for leaving. But I'll probably stay long enough to make it harder to leave, And still walk away, Forgetting to breathe. But I remember to keep An easy stride so easy your pride might not survive. I doubt you and I don't trust you and I don't think you are real. You are crazier than me: You soak in my zeal Run your thumb along my greatest appeal explore the cloaked cliffs and  plateaus, and yet feel no love towards me. I am too weak To stand tall and reek of eagerness to speak with no constraints. I bare my greatest pains         to enslaved brains that manipulate to gain something that flows freely from me. At the throw of a stone, I'll walk alone. I'll fall and crawl and bawl alone But I refuse to throw another bone your way. I might confuse again your joyfulness as mine and accidentally stay. Push another button I dare you But I know you won't make it so simple. You'll plead when I run but Still bleed as I burn everything on my shelf to sterilize the needle needed to sew your brittle ego. I weave a steady thread of lies and secrets and hope and dread over and under. You won't stop bleeding As if to say " See? You can't help me, either!". At least I tried. You've clutched your lies and secrets hope and dread. Good for you, you have held onto your head. Mine flips 5 times a day. ​
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Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 2:13 PM UTC
Untitled
My lips hold back the lava in my chest. The burning, consuming, encroaching destruction is hardening my resolve more than you could have guessed. I feel so at home in the flames that water is so underwhelming. It’s the coals I sleep on through everything. To look so long at the light only to blind myself each time; You’d think I’d learn my lesson after each rhyme. I’ve never felt comfort for long enough to recall. The videos of me laughing are something that now make me bawl. I don’t know how that feels anymore. I don’t remember what you sound like or the color of your front door. Your voice no longer echoes in my head. Your face no longer plagues me in bed. I don’t know you outside of memories; Moments of my time that bite like fleas. You make me itch still, A symptom that which the spot can never refill. I’ve been battling between anger and grief for so long now. It’s a why; it’s a how. It’s a feeling I can’t live without. No matter how hard I try to erase the pressure or smother the intensity, the kindling always relights in this drought. With a deep breath in, releasing all the smoke back out. It’s my meditation now. It’s my medication now. To smell it on someone else and be engrossed in the poison that this can allow; My dear, that’s intoxicating for me lately. A mass we are swallowing with the passing moment cornering us innately. I don’t partake with my own vessel but I will consume a host so absorbed. They don’t see me molding my character every time I get bored. One day I will have the entire puzzle lined up together. Each piece fitted so perfectly, completely combined in a tether. They will compose a tale so broken and numb. That’s the feeling that fills my ****** drum. Every tear is a bad dream. Every eyelash is a wish for this story to have a different theme.
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Jul 7, 2022
Jul 7, 2022 at 2:02 AM UTC
Reptiles with a Nicotine Addiction
My lips hold back the lava in my chest. The burning, consuming, encroaching destruction is hardening my resolve more than you could have guessed. I feel so at home in the flames that water is so underwhelming. It’s the coals I sleep on through everything. To look so long at the light only to blind myself each time; You’d think I’d learn my lesson after each rhyme. I’ve never felt comfort for long enough to recall. The videos of me laughing are something that now make me bawl. I don’t know how that feels anymore. I don’t remember what you sound like or the color of your front door. Your voice no longer echoes in my head. Your face no longer plagues me in bed. I don’t know you outside of memories; Moments of my time that bite like fleas. You make me itch still, A symptom that which the spot can never refill. I’ve been battling between anger and grief for so long now. It’s a why; it’s a how. It’s a feeling I can’t live without. No matter how hard I try to erase the pressure or smother the intensity, the kindling always relights in this drought. With a deep breath in, releasing all the smoke back out. It’s my meditation now. It’s my medication now. To smell it on someone else and be engrossed in the poison that this can allow; My dear, that’s intoxicating for me lately. A mass we are swallowing with the passing moment cornering us innately. I don’t partake with my own vessel but I will consume a host so absorbed. They don’t see me molding my character every time I get bored. One day I will have the entire puzzle lined up together. Each piece fitted so perfectly, completely combined in a tether. They will compose a tale so broken and numb. That’s the feeling that fills my ****** drum. Every tear is a bad dream. Every eyelash is a wish for this story to have a different theme.
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34
Lento You'll bare your bones you'll grow you'll pray you'll only know When the light appears, boy, when the light appears You'll sing & you'll love you'll praise blue heavens above When the light appears, boy, when the light appears You'll whimper & you'll cry you'll get yourself sick and sigh You'll sleep & you'll dream you'll only know what you mean When the light appears, boy, when the light appears You'll come & you'll go, you'll wander to and fro You'll go home in despair you'll wonder why'd you care You'll stammer & you'll lie you'll ask everybody why You'll cough and you'll pout you'll kick your toe with gout You'll jump you'll shout you'll knock you're friends about You'll bawl and you'll deny & announce your eyes are dry You'll roll and you'll rock you'll show your big hard **** You'll love and you'll grieve & one day you'll come believe As you whistle & you smile the lord made you worthwhile You'll preach and you'll glide on the pulpit in your pride Sneak & slide across the stage like a river in high tide You'll come fast or come on slow just the same you'll never know When the light appears, boy, when the light appears May 3, 1987, 2:30 AM
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3.2k
When The Light Appears
When ranchers decide to do a thing, Sometimes they just go through it. What follows is a little fling A neighbor did...don't do it. The clearing of the land requires a little fortitude Some ingenuity, and luck, and not a little courage. So A.D. Volbrecht's story, though a little crude, Is only strange to those who eat milk toast and porridge. Rather than tear an old house down to clear a farming space, A.D. enlisted help from his oldest son to haul the thing away. Together then, the two grown men took on a moving race To see if they could jack the house and move it in one day. The morning saw a Donahue, low slung and meant to haul, Waiting as the house was raised, (unsteady on new legs) Then slowly lowered down again. T'would make a feller bawl To see the old home place prepare to pack its bags. Son Zane began a steady pull to move the old house home, And A.D. took his place in front, flashers and flags to warn. Slow going was their pace, and traffic stopped up some; The actual move was tougher than the plan they'd formed. So seven miles became a half a day, and challenges arose How ever would they move the thing through town? The power lines and traffic cops were obstacles; who knows What kinds of tickets they'd be writing down? Up ahead the airport gleamed, the tarmac shimmered black. "Aha!" old A.D. cried, "I've found the way around!" Hard left he turned on a county road, and cut the fence in back And guided Zane and the old home shack to airport ground. Western Airways flight was due sometime that afternoon; Old AD rattled on up Runway One, old pickup running fast, To find a gate to let the old house through, (and none too soon); The tractor and its load sputtered through the parking lot at last. In June a few years back, a farmer and his son pulled off a heist. Stole some runway time and cut their journey short... No harm done, though they'd never do it twice Without winding up defenseless in the county court.
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Apr 10, 2013
Apr 10, 2013 at 7:56 AM UTC
Runway Surprises
When ranchers decide to do a thing, Sometimes they just go through it. What follows is a little fling A neighbor did...don't do it. The clearing of the land requires a little fortitude Some ingenuity, and luck, and not a little courage. So A.D. Volbrecht's story, though a little crude, Is only strange to those who eat milk toast and porridge. Rather than tear an old house down to clear a farming space, A.D. enlisted help from his oldest son to haul the thing away. Together then, the two grown men took on a moving race To see if they could jack the house and move it in one day. The morning saw a Donahue, low slung and meant to haul, Waiting as the house was raised, (unsteady on new legs) Then slowly lowered down again. T'would make a feller bawl To see the old home place prepare to pack its bags. Son Zane began a steady pull to move the old house home, And A.D. took his place in front, flashers and flags to warn. Slow going was their pace, and traffic stopped up some; The actual move was tougher than the plan they'd formed. So seven miles became a half a day, and challenges arose How ever would they move the thing through town? The power lines and traffic cops were obstacles; who knows What kinds of tickets they'd be writing down? Up ahead the airport gleamed, the tarmac shimmered black. "Aha!" old A.D. cried, "I've found the way around!" Hard left he turned on a county road, and cut the fence in back And guided Zane and the old home shack to airport ground. Western Airways flight was due sometime that afternoon; Old AD rattled on up Runway One, old pickup running fast, To find a gate to let the old house through, (and none too soon); The tractor and its load sputtered through the parking lot at last. In June a few years back, a farmer and his son pulled off a heist. Stole some runway time and cut their journey short... No harm done, though they'd never do it twice Without winding up defenseless in the county court.
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36
there won't be many shrouded gowns or tears or tales to tell above a bed with tiny frowns to watch my carcass swell perhaps a friend or cousin no colleagues from past tense i'd be shocked to see a dozen if i don't outlast the 'rents don't go too far out of way or bring a spot of gin just to watch my bones decay and sorrow o'er my skin kiss my head or curse or bawl i won't know whose farewell staring at a furnace wall while looking up from hell for now i'm lying here to show her i can’t bear without your face who knows if you'll need closure i'll be dressed for just in case i’d have lived for you but only let's not talk about regrets i'll wish you'd never known me but hate to think you might forget
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May 15, 2022
May 15, 2022 at 2:31 PM UTC
when i'm gone
I still owe you proof Of why you are amazing But I didn’t want to sound too stupid Or too crazy Or utter cliché things That wouldn’t cause you to move Here is why you’re amazing Because you saved a boy’s life Both inside and out You loved this demon When it didn’t deserve love You mended its scars As soon as they were cut Because of you A scared little boy’s shell Wasn’t shattered apart, Just slowly chipped Till the rest fell apart You brought a smile To a lonely nerd You took his hand When he was used to air You lay on his shoulder And made him stiffen like Medusa’s stare And gave him a journal That he filled with his despair You are an angel Because you love You love Mom You love Dad You love my siblings And you love nature You caused me to grow And love those I didn’t really know Loulou Will Aunt Ginger Jesus, God You are outstanding Because you care About friends And strangers You sacrifice yourself For others to be happy You put yourself towards the bottom So others can feel the top You are amazing Because you made a loner loser Keep a jar Of bubble soap To blow away is pain And hope to share with his princess one day You’ve made a child Who hasn’t cried in years Bawl at the thought That you wouldn’t be near Or that he caused our tears You’ve caused an arrogant gent To stop and think On whether it was time to grow up Or lose his love To stop and stare At the road ahead And the consequences of the path he led You have known this “knight” Who wears a tattered worn Gym school uniform And gave him hope That he wouldn’t grow old alone You met a child In 2009 Whom you’ve help mold Almost a third of his life Into a man Who he is proud of today I know this is long And it’s time for bed But I couldn’t go another day Without telling you the way On which you have changed forever The heart and mind Of my person and my life You are gorgeous You are intelligent You are stunning But most of all What I love over all Is the fact that I have The privilege to state the fact That I love you And that you are Absolutely Perfectly Hands down The most Amazing person That has ever Entered my life
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Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 10:55 PM UTC
Why She's Amazing
I still owe you proof Of why you are amazing But I didn’t want to sound too stupid Or too crazy Or utter cliché things That wouldn’t cause you to move Here is why you’re amazing Because you saved a boy’s life Both inside and out You loved this demon When it didn’t deserve love You mended its scars As soon as they were cut Because of you A scared little boy’s shell Wasn’t shattered apart, Just slowly chipped Till the rest fell apart You brought a smile To a lonely nerd You took his hand When he was used to air You lay on his shoulder And made him stiffen like Medusa’s stare And gave him a journal That he filled with his despair You are an angel Because you love You love Mom You love Dad You love my siblings And you love nature You caused me to grow And love those I didn’t really know Loulou Will Aunt Ginger Jesus, God You are outstanding Because you care About friends And strangers You sacrifice yourself For others to be happy You put yourself towards the bottom So others can feel the top You are amazing Because you made a loner loser Keep a jar Of bubble soap To blow away is pain And hope to share with his princess one day You’ve made a child Who hasn’t cried in years Bawl at the thought That you wouldn’t be near Or that he caused our tears You’ve caused an arrogant gent To stop and think On whether it was time to grow up Or lose his love To stop and stare At the road ahead And the consequences of the path he led You have known this “knight” Who wears a tattered worn Gym school uniform And gave him hope That he wouldn’t grow old alone You met a child In 2009 Whom you’ve help mold Almost a third of his life Into a man Who he is proud of today I know this is long And it’s time for bed But I couldn’t go another day Without telling you the way On which you have changed forever The heart and mind Of my person and my life You are gorgeous You are intelligent You are stunning But most of all What I love over all Is the fact that I have The privilege to state the fact That I love you And that you are Absolutely Perfectly Hands down The most Amazing person That has ever Entered my life
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98
One ever hangs where shelled roads part. In this war He too lost a limb, But His disciples hide apart; And now the Soldiers bear with Him. Near Golgotha strolls many a priest, And in their faces there is pride That they were flesh-marked by the Beast By whom the gentle Christ's denied The scribes on all the people shove And bawl allegiance to the state, But they who love the greater love Lay down their life; they do not hate
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3k
At a Calvary Near the Ancre
Anonymous English Folk Song. A holiday, a holiday And the first one of the year Lord Donald's wife came into the church The Gospel for to hear And when the meeting it was done She cast her eyes about And there she saw little Matty Groves Walking in the crowd "Come home with me, little Matty Groves Come home with me tonight Come home with me, little Matty Groves And sleep with me 'til light" "Oh, I can't come home, I won't come home And sleep with you tonight By the rings on your fingers I can tell you are Lord Donald's wife" "But if I am Lord Donald's wife Lord Donald's not at home He is out in the far cornfields Bringing the yearlings home" And a servant who was standing by And hearing what was said He swore Lord Donald he would know Before the sun would set And in his hurry to carry the news He bent his breast and ran And when he came to the broad mill stream He took off his shoes and swam Little Matty Groves, he lay down And took a little sleep When he awoke, Lord Donald Was standing at his feet Saying, "How do you like my feather bed And how do you like my sheets How do you like my lady Who lies in your arms asleep?" "Oh, well I like your feather bed And well I like your sheets But better I like your lady gay Who lies in my arms asleep" "Well, get up, get up", Lord Donald cried "Get up as quick as you can It'll never be said in fair England I slew a naked man" "Oh, I can't get up, I won't get up I can't get up for my life For you have two long beaten swords And I got a pocket knife" "Well, it's true I have two beaten swords And they cost me deep in the purse But you will have the better of them And I will have the worse" "And you will strike the very first blow And strike it like a man I will strike the very next blow And I'll **** you if I can" So Matty struck the very first blow And he hurt Lord Donald sore Lord Donald struck the very next blow And Matty struck no more And then Lord Donald he took his wife And he sat her on his knee Saying, "Who do you like the best of us Matty Groves or me?" And then up spoke his own dear wife Never heard to speak so free "I'd rather a kiss from dead Matty's lips Than you or your finery" Lord Donald, he jumped up And loudly he did bawl He struck his wife right through the heart And pinned her against the wall "A grave, a grave, " Lord Donald cried "To put these lovers in But bury my lady at the top For she was of noble kin"
0
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 5:22 PM UTC
The Ballad Of Matty Groves
Anonymous English Folk Song. A holiday, a holiday And the first one of the year Lord Donald's wife came into the church The Gospel for to hear And when the meeting it was done She cast her eyes about And there she saw little Matty Groves Walking in the crowd "Come home with me, little Matty Groves Come home with me tonight Come home with me, little Matty Groves And sleep with me 'til light" "Oh, I can't come home, I won't come home And sleep with you tonight By the rings on your fingers I can tell you are Lord Donald's wife" "But if I am Lord Donald's wife Lord Donald's not at home He is out in the far cornfields Bringing the yearlings home" And a servant who was standing by And hearing what was said He swore Lord Donald he would know Before the sun would set And in his hurry to carry the news He bent his breast and ran And when he came to the broad mill stream He took off his shoes and swam Little Matty Groves, he lay down And took a little sleep When he awoke, Lord Donald Was standing at his feet Saying, "How do you like my feather bed And how do you like my sheets How do you like my lady Who lies in your arms asleep?" "Oh, well I like your feather bed And well I like your sheets But better I like your lady gay Who lies in my arms asleep" "Well, get up, get up", Lord Donald cried "Get up as quick as you can It'll never be said in fair England I slew a naked man" "Oh, I can't get up, I won't get up I can't get up for my life For you have two long beaten swords And I got a pocket knife" "Well, it's true I have two beaten swords And they cost me deep in the purse But you will have the better of them And I will have the worse" "And you will strike the very first blow And strike it like a man I will strike the very next blow And I'll **** you if I can" So Matty struck the very first blow And he hurt Lord Donald sore Lord Donald struck the very next blow And Matty struck no more And then Lord Donald he took his wife And he sat her on his knee Saying, "Who do you like the best of us Matty Groves or me?" And then up spoke his own dear wife Never heard to speak so free "I'd rather a kiss from dead Matty's lips Than you or your finery" Lord Donald, he jumped up And loudly he did bawl He struck his wife right through the heart And pinned her against the wall "A grave, a grave, " Lord Donald cried "To put these lovers in But bury my lady at the top For she was of noble kin"
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77
On the heap, Thou dangle and screech And bedeck, for I seemingly espouse. The anecdotes and myths: Engaged in a mutual pose. There comes the hymn, And the sway and the hum; The abnormality and the deform Halted on a single stance. To dozen of the tokens Whom I prejudged; The prevalence of the chaos That sleeps merely on my tongue. To all the estrangements From which I refrain, Within the bawl of the tantrum, upon the hook of the day. Farewell to all, farewell the haze Farewell the cluster, To the resolution found within a fane; Where rituals confuse, Where the practice becomes a fame. There thou taketh solely, A hymn and an interminable haze. Whats the sense of the ovation When no screen displays A mourning motion For which no motion craves? I sigh, and mumble To which mere consciences giveth To me only, mine solely. His to hear and his, keenly.
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Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 8:50 AM UTC
The Sway in the Temple
I pace around, adoring each flower. I’m not nervous. I just have bipolar. I’m tapping my fingers for ten hours.   I’m not restless. I just have bipolar. I wake up four times during the nighttime. My heartbeat flies out of my very chest. Awake. It’s been hours since watching crime! Alive. I begin prepping for a test. My words bounce back around the four drywalls. Like a child, thoughts scamper through my mind. Abruptly I laugh. Then I start to bawl. My emotions begin to intertwine. I make mindless plans with seven people. I say something out of pocket to Van. Now I try to use a tattoo needle. **** I just tossed and broke my only fan.
0
Mar 7, 2023
Mar 7, 2023 at 3:06 PM UTC
A Dose of Mania
Come rhyme with me In a bit of Harmony But suppose We juxtapose: Lemon drop Bitter Tear drop Bawl Sundrop Flitter Raindrop Fall Duck Duck Goose A little heaven on earth Before all hell breaks Loose ~
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May 28, 2021
May 28, 2021 at 8:07 AM UTC
Suppose We Juxtapose
Deep, aching, stabbing,wretched, pain barely walking, limping, body strain. Exhausted, fragile, paleness unhealthy, aging,signs of stress. Numbing, tingling,constant, hurt no turning back now, cannot avert. Pushing forward inch by inch each step I take makes me flinch. Pills,creams,meds and all nothing helps I just sit and bawl. Too young to have my body break don't know how much more that I can take. Doctors help that's what they do but, doctors here think I'm a fool. Treatment costs so very much without insurance a cure is out of touch. So I pick myself up and do what I must til it's ashes to ashes and dust to dust.
0
Nov 5, 2010
Nov 5, 2010 at 8:18 PM UTC
Broken Body
I remove my glasses and couldn't give a **** if I ever saw a thing again, you ******* ***** ya nice word civ, **** queer boy Your love is your insanity, go and go and go and get away, away go get away, away go get away you're gay, go get away You don't know whether to write, talk, laugh, cry, bawl, rust and I'm here in this and I'll be gone on that Found mad, and for my madness I cannot be because I know it's not me, choke gasp release and on and on and on, again go get away, away just go away, away you're gay,and invading the space I haven't even found. http://www.robross.ca
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Nov 23, 2009
Nov 23, 2009 at 11:36 AM UTC
Deep Deep Deep Inside, Deep Deep Down Inside
one--two--covered streams, staining palms of the undiscovered, they have holes in ears--for you--their mouths are wide--wide--open--! yet they hide 'neath tender shield. peekaboo, I don't see you. for the flowers cry not for the see-ers, but for the cut and tears. bite into your wrist, and watch the ache and finished work flow, into ******* and tired vocab, as it is merely zilch you're destined to grow. wide--wide open, yet you bawl not, how will you get your food now, O dear? simply let the ocean run hot. they will not bother with whiners, whose lips that starve, the words now old timers, and the blood that was carved. dig deep--dig deep, my love, and find nothing but ash. die penniless--die penniless, O dove, and thrive on the sunken **** they drink eulogies, from soft gray tongues, and murmur carelessly, for the young-uns. the world won't wait-- forever moves it-- **** the weak--the hard workers, and take up the one shot-ers. simply how the horse drinks it's water, and how the earth soaks in rain. nothing--nothing--nothin' but minor, and disappointing. simplicity rings the loudest bell, and thought sings drooping tunes. for the world hides not and tells. and blossoms melt in places anew, merely brainless--brainless--! and the shield slips from blue. for now the world is clear, and doesn't care for the sanguine ruin in those eyes, let your work fade--let your work fade, my babe, play peekaboo a little longer, and drag the sword between the lies.
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Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 1:59 PM UTC
Peekaboo.
They said she suffered from visions, so They locked her up in her room, I heard her pacing the floor in there To softly cry in the gloom, Her food they slid in under the door And that’s when I heard her shout: ‘You can’t keep me forever in here, You must let my nightmares out!’ But a doctor listened outside the door And shook his head as he went, A Priest then wafted some incense in And muttered a sacrament, But no-one dared to unlock the door For they’d heard a howl within, ‘She must be conjuring demons there Or some terrible type of sin.’ At night when everyone was asleep I’d put my head to the floor, And whisper low to my sister through The gap, just under the door. ‘Go find the key,’ she would say to me, ‘And unlock the door in the night, We’ll creep on out while the house is still, Take off while the Moon is bright.’ I didn’t know where to find the key, I didn’t know where it was, It wasn’t hung up on the kitchen hook Or the nail in the wooden cross. She begged me, ‘Keep on looking for it, It’s the only chance for me, Then we will be together again At last, and finally free!’ But then her visions returned again And lights shone under the door, While sounds, like animals caught in pain Built up to a sullen roar. I whispered, ‘Sis, can you hear me now, I’m scared,’ and started to bawl, She cried, ‘There’s lights and a million things All creeping out of the wall.’ I went to beat on our parent’s door But I heard my father snore, I ran downstairs and I found the key They’d hid in the bureau drawer. I hesitated before I turned The key in my sister’s lock, The door swung open and lay ajar As I stood, stock-still in shock. For in the room was a wooded glade With creepers clogging the walls, Bats were hung from the old lampshade, The bed was a waterfall, But of my sister, never a sign She must have been lost in the trees, But monsters struggled out of the wall As I fell in dread to my knees. They say I suffer from visions, so They’ve locked me up in my room, I couldn’t cope with my sister’s loss They said, but she’s in a tomb. I know she’s not, for I hear her whisper Under the door at night, ‘We’ll creep on out while the house is still, Take off while the Moon is bright.’ Then sounds, like animals caught in pain Build up to a sullen roar, I call for her, again and again, ‘Just get the key to the door.’ But then she fades, and she slips away, So far that I have to shout: ‘You can’t keep me forever in here, You must let my nightmares out!’ David Lewis Paget
0
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 4:28 AM UTC
Key to the Door
They said she suffered from visions, so They locked her up in her room, I heard her pacing the floor in there To softly cry in the gloom, Her food they slid in under the door And that’s when I heard her shout: ‘You can’t keep me forever in here, You must let my nightmares out!’ But a doctor listened outside the door And shook his head as he went, A Priest then wafted some incense in And muttered a sacrament, But no-one dared to unlock the door For they’d heard a howl within, ‘She must be conjuring demons there Or some terrible type of sin.’ At night when everyone was asleep I’d put my head to the floor, And whisper low to my sister through The gap, just under the door. ‘Go find the key,’ she would say to me, ‘And unlock the door in the night, We’ll creep on out while the house is still, Take off while the Moon is bright.’ I didn’t know where to find the key, I didn’t know where it was, It wasn’t hung up on the kitchen hook Or the nail in the wooden cross. She begged me, ‘Keep on looking for it, It’s the only chance for me, Then we will be together again At last, and finally free!’ But then her visions returned again And lights shone under the door, While sounds, like animals caught in pain Built up to a sullen roar. I whispered, ‘Sis, can you hear me now, I’m scared,’ and started to bawl, She cried, ‘There’s lights and a million things All creeping out of the wall.’ I went to beat on our parent’s door But I heard my father snore, I ran downstairs and I found the key They’d hid in the bureau drawer. I hesitated before I turned The key in my sister’s lock, The door swung open and lay ajar As I stood, stock-still in shock. For in the room was a wooded glade With creepers clogging the walls, Bats were hung from the old lampshade, The bed was a waterfall, But of my sister, never a sign She must have been lost in the trees, But monsters struggled out of the wall As I fell in dread to my knees. They say I suffer from visions, so They’ve locked me up in my room, I couldn’t cope with my sister’s loss They said, but she’s in a tomb. I know she’s not, for I hear her whisper Under the door at night, ‘We’ll creep on out while the house is still, Take off while the Moon is bright.’ Then sounds, like animals caught in pain Build up to a sullen roar, I call for her, again and again, ‘Just get the key to the door.’ But then she fades, and she slips away, So far that I have to shout: ‘You can’t keep me forever in here, You must let my nightmares out!’ David Lewis Paget
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73
Mirror Mirror on the wall Who the prettiest of them all Her head held high; her shoulders tall Mirror Mirror on the wall She said she would never fall Mirror Mirror on the wall She saw the boy while at the mall He broke her heart; he made her bawl Mirror Mirror on the wall How could she feel so small? Mirror Mirror on the wall Watch her break and watch her fall Her body shakes; she tries to crawl Mirror Mirror on the wall Here’s the girl who lost it all
0
Jun 20, 2011
Jun 20, 2011 at 10:15 PM UTC
Mirror Mirror