"beeing" poems
doth hate yourself ***
for an *** with mind is still an ***
flaunting about the property of knowlege,
like every little gasp, saves you from laughing stock
***
doth Bring yourself justification
for beeing such an ass'
and though you seem a *****
my lady your still a lass
So bring to me the right kind,
of liquid, intoxicating
and sit back and smile, as i lie here,
procrastinating
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 8:09 PM UTC
I wan't to draw a brush stroke,
paint over my baddest feeling.
I wan't to hold my heart,
you know only for a little while
to really see that it's beating.
I wan't to be one with time,
play tag with my thoughts.
Try to make the time twisted
and
read a book that is not yet written.
I wan't to be able crying
without my eyes beeing wet,
touch everything
that can't be touched yet.
In tough moments
I wan't to be able taking the fights.
But what I really want is
dancing the moonwalk in the northern lights.
Nov 2, 2020
Nov 2, 2020 at 8:50 AM UTC
I sometimes think about beeing someone else
How would that be?
But I'll always be stuck in this body
I just hate me
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 5:05 AM UTC
Add me to the list of show horses who've kissed a gun
I'm tired of beeing the beaten one.
No fun.
Sick of beeing the last man to run
I feel like eventually I'll amount to someone
But till that day I'm just a body.
My sports have become hobies
Sleeping in hotel lobies.
Giving gobbies for coins
There is no fruit in my *****
Just an ache that lies in the wake of my discrimination.
Acting alongside my procrastination
No longer will my forehead bead with
Precipitation
I have become a man that could disappoint a nation
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 5:30 PM UTC
Being The Shortest Day
’Tis the yeares midnight, and it is the dayes,
Lucies, who scarce seaven houres herself unmaskes,
The Sunne is spent, and now his flasks
Send forth light squibs, no constant rayes;
The worlds whole sap is sunke:
The generall balme th’ hydroptique earth hath drunk,
Whither, as to the beds-feet, life is shrunk,
Dead and interr’d; yet all these seem to laugh,
Compar’d with mee, who am their Epitaph.
Study me then, you who shall lovers bee
At the next world, that is, at the next Spring:
For I am every dead thing,
In whom love wrought new Alchimie.
For his art did expresse
A quintessence even from nothingnesse,
From dull privations, and leane emptinesse:
He ruin’d mee, and I am re-begot
Of absence, darknesse, death—things which are not.
All others, from all things, draw all that’s good,
Life, soule, forme, spirit, whence they beeing have;
I, by loves limbecke, am the grave
Of all, that’s nothing. Oft a flood
Have wee two wept, and so
Drownd the whole world, us two; oft did we grow
To be two Chaosses, when we did show
Care to ought else; and often absences
Withdrew our soules, and made us carcasses.
But I am by her death—which word wrongs her—
Of the first nothing, the Elixer grown;
Were I a man, that I were one,
I needs must know; I should preferre,
If I were any beast,
Some ends, some means; Yea plants, yea stones detest,
And love; All, all some properties invest;
If I an ordinary nothing were,
As shadow, a light, and body must be here.
But I am None; nor will my Sunne renew.
You lovers, for whose sake, the lesser Sunne
At this time to the Goat is runne
To fetch new lust, and give it you,
Enjoy your summer all;
Since shee enjoyes her long nights festivall,
Let mee prepare towards her, and let mee call
This houre her Vigill, and her Eve, since this
Bothe the yeares, and the dayes deep midnight is.
1.8k
Today ,you ignored me again. It was like a closed door. I couldn't open it. It's been impossible..
I wasn't sad I wasn't empty , I was in pain. You didn't notice. You didn't even think about me one second.
Maybe you did.
Is it okay to be so cold to the person who gave all love they had?
Maybe I didn't deserve you at all.
But you were everything I had.
I feel so guilty for tellin you..
It's the worse when the person you love closed everything to you. I still feel the pain. It can't away. It's still there.
The anxiety of loosing you even more than now.
You don't even ask if I'm okay with that or not. You don't even look at me. WHAT AM I THINKING??
It literally kills me not beeing near you. Please don't go.
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 12:26 PM UTC
There was a garden full of butterflies
They we're buzzing around
From flower to flower
It seemed everything was fine
But one butterfly didn't had a nice parental house
The parents often didn't say nice things to it
"You are Not good enough"
But also didn't do other nice stuff
In the school the Others laught about it
And started calling it names
The teachers only looked away
Also when it Changed her colors to Grey
The butterfly tried to be perfect
And wanted at least controll one thing
It wanted to controll it's body
So it lost a bit to much weight
While the others ate and ate
It sat in front of it's full plate
And in her head it praid
"Sorry for not beeing perfect"
The body started to shiver
'Cause it felt cold
Even when the sun was shining
That put it a nother crises
The butterfly's body started to change
It started to get problems with it's skin
But also with it wings
In it body everything started to sting
The day came where it was having a nap
A storm came up
And took the butterfly with it
And it was never seen again
Aug 19, 2024
Aug 19, 2024 at 12:36 AM UTC
At times, the dark comes quicker
As if my mind gone weaker
As if my soul was split into two me
Similar to the ying and the yang
The Me and the Mean
The bright side and the dark side
I feel an intruder piercing my soul in the inside
I feel this part growing , getting stronger everyday
Spreading negative wave
The Me symbolize my reason of living
The dreams that I am after
The desire of beeing a father
The Mean on the other hand is like that creature surrounded by that antihalo feeling
Giving power to my fears , my hate
Eating all I have of hope, misguiding my fate
The Me became the prey , leaving The Mean the place of deadly predator
It's like picturing the beauty of spring gobbled up by the sadness of winter
But The Me isn't giving up
I'm not giving up in the search of my true identity
The Murderess war of the two Me
The winner will decide where lies my destiny.
Dec 15, 2009
Dec 15, 2009 at 11:45 PM UTC
He left the trail of kisses
down my neck and spine,
this was his farewell,
our last goodbye.
As he said "see you",
i said "come around",
but we both knew the feeling,
of beeing lost and found .
Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 3:50 AM UTC
You know what we used to be
You know what we are
And though i pretend its ok to be
I can no longer stand her beeing so close
To me
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 4:42 PM UTC
Ive found the edge of the facade,
I peeled back all the layers.
Only to find a rotten core,
I found myself beeing played.
But why do i want much more,
My skin crawls when i try to sleep
The screams start when i close my eyes.
How many more times will you tell yourself that all i am is lies?
And as crows raise my heart from the gutter
And i find myself feeling pride.
My garden whimpers and wilts for no good reason.
Till i realized you might be why it died
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 5:42 PM UTC
Many people consider travelling around the world
to be an adventure.
You see some place, the picture is there and that's it.
Where is the adventure there?
Talking to an individual discovering their characteristics,
manners,
thoughs,
patterns,
habits,
lovers.
Unravelling the most mysterious to science and never mentioned in religion-BRAIN.
The best adventure ia having a deep converstation
Caused by unstoppable sensation
To feel someone else's abyss.
Seems like our thoughts are the never ending
And always reacurring treasure we are looking for.
Dig and dig and dig..
Most of them are afraid what are they going to do with so much treasure.
Unable to whield it and create a better future with their vivid imagination
They leave it alone, wondering behind a dark door, locked away in their mind always beeing there for their master-like a ******* dog.
Good thing I am a sinner so my mind doors are black-darknes can't absorb my colored imagination.
No matter how hard you try to hold the door closed, your colors will always try to get out.
You can't run away from who you are.
One shall always strike to unravel him or herself
After all, we wouldn't have exsisted if all our layers were on.
If that is the case, then why am I walking around
Never seeing a person with deep intellectual knowledge ?
Why aren't they asking themselves the major questions?
Why aren't they looking for meaningful lovers?
Why aren't they appreciating the loyal friends?
The ability to learn should have been given to
Snails, they would've been faster in discovering themselves than we humans are.
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 1:27 PM UTC
Talk to me
Just say hey
Tell me the time of day
I applied for a job
That's preety Kool
I started an old hobby.
Ive decided im no fool
Im a human beeing.
I just want to converse
I know you have free time
So i challenge you to write me a verse
Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 5:24 AM UTC
Revaluations send chills down my spine , every time I attempt to commit and read it all the way... Always make it barley through the first half then all hell breaks lose in my imagination, the fear cracks all hope I had 4 a brighter salvation, in reality we're beeing told word 4 word of final cleansing of our world & its corrupted Nations...
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 11:28 PM UTC
Do you think
You'll ever be tired of beeing mine?
Drunk ****** under two and a half bottles of red wine.
I know your kind,
Short and beautiful
Small lips with wolfs teeth
Swallow my soul whole and carve your sigil into my breast,
Never once did I think you would ever fuel
What's beating beneath my chest.
Breathe steady baby, arche your hips
I've never been loved just quiet like this,
Your hands around my throat
My mind begins to float
I know before you. I had next to no hope.
"How many miles have you crawled "
You whisper in my ear
"How many smiling faces ,
And run down places have you seen
Before you realized I was your queen?"
"A dozen smiles "
My face turning blue
"And a million miles"
And I know it's true
"But I know I'll never find another broken heart that fits so well beside me, I'll never find anyone else like you "
Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 12:44 AM UTC
When Cupid throws the arrow and big love is calling,
follow it, even if its roads are heavy because of fear!
Turn the silence louder, have the courage even if you're crawling,
look inside you and you will realize. You woke up, my dear!
When you love, you're wearing stormy clothes of silence,
you look up to heaven to see life in colours of the rainbow.
You forget that the world is full of nostalgia, hurt and violence,
you throw the dice to the dreams, then you can say Hello!
When you love, everything is wrapped with light white cover,
you want deeply to cleanse the sadness of its own rust.
You learn to read between the lines of the law of love, to recover
and only when you feel, you will know the mystery of lust.
When you love, even the words from the poetry are blushing
so correct me, please, if you consider that I'm wrong!
For love is not proven only by words that are rushing,
we risk everything without thinking about beeing strong.
When you love, the god's voice falls asleep in the harsh battle,
your barriers disappear into the sweet and bitter melancholy.
The sap of life flows through your veins like vows in the chapel,
and lights the fire with the sighs of sadness of the valley.
So, love the love! To learn to live again, in heaven's creation!
Get your heart in your teeth, have the power to dare!
Live, to feel the flavor of forgiveness and salvation!
Shout out loud your crazy love ... it'll be your answer to your prayer!
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 1:29 PM UTC
It's easy, you read a psychology book
Go out there, influence people,
Win over them and have a lot of friends.
Do we ruin our natural spark
and way of leading a conversation by reading
psychology?
Even the positive way of manipulating human emotion by educating yourself about it
Is unpure.
There isn't such thing as classical or common behaviour, only it's edges.
The next time you give advice to a friend
Or simply talk to someone
Think to yourself:
I am the rarest form of a person.
What are you waisting it for, by beeing:
A loner?
A dynamite?
A fraud?
But you are already a fraud.
This thoughts aren't inspired by your thinking
But by someone else's.
So how does someone become independent of any kind of influence?
Leaving all that we know and beginning all over again would be the key
But by leaving everything there wouldn't be any puzzle and therefore no key.
Are we who we are ment to be or are we excelling the expectations of the one that controls us through a keyboard right now.
I guess we will never know.
Feb 3, 2019
Feb 3, 2019 at 11:42 AM UTC
I will never be as beautiful as them
But I am what I am
And I sometimes think about
Beeing a man
Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 7:12 PM UTC
No, I'm not a poet.
I'm just an interpreter of tales in which tears are drops of longing ...
Tales, in which I hear through my ears
echoes of an invisible and indivisible world ...
I sometimes like to pour myself a little red
and sweet wine of the silence cup,
the inner silence is erupting from me,
which seems to me to be a deaf-mute dispute between heart and reason ...
No, I'm not a poet.
Only words are fighting against me,
but still, I feel my heart is lifting in their arms,
with the same intensity as at the beginning...
The letters in my words do not need arguments,
they just want to free themselves,
to touch souls more and more, joining in verses,
their destinies being knotted with rhymes ...
No, I'm not a poet.
I'm just a human beeing who, for a few moments,
has a breath of inspiration,
swallowing with greed the air from the room
where I lay down my silence, my love, my longing,
trying to transform words into a vibrant power, almost tangible.
Sometimes I use words with a killing flesh of attraction,
like a masterful crowning of the letters that take hold of my pen...
and sometimes with a gentle, sweet glance,
whispering voluptuously, making my rhymes fall on their knees ...
No, I'm not a poet.
I just measure the universe with a hungry, critically eye-catching curiosity,
while the aroma of my coffee is flowing in the air,
escaping from the espresso,
mysteriously and dazzling...
I just caress the words on the pavements of the lyrics
peeled by the rains of the heart where the letters are sad and lonely...
Now I retire with a slight bow,
as an unspoken satisfaction, in front of all those who read me,
in front of the ones you know me...
A delusive lust to write a few lyrics has taken me by surprise...
maybe about truth, maybe about numb dreams,
maybe about the cure of lost hearts... which is love!
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 5:21 PM UTC
Lost has become an expression to me,
not a sensation of unknowing
more of a sensation of loss of myself
lost,
im lost without you,
without it i might be dull
but without you, Im nothing but a shell
your the scrap i have left,
silk that weighs more then gold,
you have a heart of fire ive been told,
i want it, wrapped in ice and dipped in sugar,
I belive i am the one who can take you there
but we went from 80 to 0 real fast..
and I wasnt wearing a seatbelt
but christ i still have whip lash
because my unconditional love for you coaxed me into safety,
i took of my harness and let myself be me,
and now your saying i should take me away from me,
that i should just simply stop beeing what i am
its not so easy when all you have to fix a concret wall is craft paper
I get that you think im a lady killer
and i despise the fact you think i enjoy it,
but i understand your misconceptions, i know what its like to be stuck in your head without a lock for the broken key around your neck
but unlike you think, my tounge is dull as butter knife on any other median but paper,
my skull is as emptier of lust for another woman
then a gay priest married to Christ, '
you have nothing to fear sweet heart, i dont want to go anywhere,
I know you think im a brick wall,
of problems and cracks and faults
and your mad your out of mortor to fix me
just understand knocking me back down doesnt get me any further foreward..
be declicate when you build me back up...
your building yourself a future..
this broken fence,
this unshapped clay,
is yours now to ply and toy with. No one elses,
just say you love me one more time so i can sleep..
and understand im trying as hard as i can,
to be the man you want me to be
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 7:43 AM UTC
Excuse me did you swallow something?
Oh no wait, you totally caught feelings
You still tryna figure out why you feel so ******
Ever heard of hormones buddy?
Its some chemicals that contribute to you beeing all teary
Haha who would have thought....
Sorry let me not laugh
They say never mock a pain you haven't endured
Forgive me for the giggle
But have you really swallowed something?
Its uncomfortable I know
Just cry already it'll go away
I won't call you a ***** if you shed, no I won't mock you the whole day
We in this together
Yeah I know its hard on you
But trust me I got you
Just cry already it'll go away
Don't worry my shoulder is here
Better yet, here's a pen and paper
Jot it down, I swear it helps
You need a pencil maybe? Perhaps you wanna draw
In any case, cry....it'll go away
Just burst in tears it'll go away
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 6:11 PM UTC
The days just pass by
and the calender
where the pages are beeing pulled off
One after another
Only missing the "He loves me, he loves me not"
Then it could have been a flower.
'Cause some days he messages me
Some days he doesn't
I just keep waiting
For that single message
which now and then makes my day.
Aug 7, 2015
Aug 7, 2015 at 1:01 PM UTC
I guess there's a million ways
to make it alright
a million reasons
to win this fight
but I cant wake up
and I cant begin
I cant even get your words
to sink in
somehow its easier
to place you in categories
ignore your names
your eyes, your storys
you're too angry
and show no respect
there's even something wrong
with beeing too perfect
I do this
so that we cant part
because it simply cant end
if I wont give it a start
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 5:02 PM UTC
Can you please tell me
What are you doing here?
Exposing yourself like that
Am I supposed to feel shame?
How can you dream
Of beeing a writer
When you can't write?
Is that poetry
Or a ******* chart?
Read a dictionary or two
And then come back
Am I supposed to like
A work full of spelling mistakes?
To be sincere
I'd dispose your work like party cake
Trow your tantrum
After reading this
Please, just understand
Someone has to put sence into your head
Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 1:41 PM UTC
waste no time
explaining for her
she never gets what its like
for a machoman
out there
give no effort
to listen to her longer than
your crush
they've even made up a word
to prevent that
****
dont let her think about
making a point
judge her by the looks instead
and if she behaves badly
just call her a ****
and wonder outloud
what her family done wrong
it's her flaws
so punish her
still, dont give her the beauty of being a rebell
she must have been taught wrong
from somewhere
you hush her up
there's three simple words to describe her
beautiful, ugly or ****
it's as simple as that
move her from beautiful
to ****
if she reach more than
a certain amount of boyfriends
a year
or dismiss you
proven even by the hate of gay
there's something wrong with not beeing
man enough
you rip her apart
with feelings only a whip hand man
can provide her with
yet she's the one left with
shame and disbelief
answer
weren't you leading him on
give her the signal that
leading him on is punished
with ****
you never heard her rap about
a man in every state
with pride
because you see
there's a big difference
to the glory of it
when you add a S
in front of the he
Feb 2, 2017
Feb 2, 2017 at 7:45 AM UTC