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Traveler Mar 2014
Who can forget
The black that stains a soul
I wish I were a simpleton
Whose regrets could just let go

Yet life is not designed
For any second chance relief
Once  you've crossed the line
You create such new beliefs…
Traveler Tim
re po
We all have things that each does worship....and you with a negative thought of it...is this one tip..let them believe on what makes them free...for you or I just might not see...that each shall choose their own destiny...and shall therefore accept it eternally..so what will be shall really be..each to their own as you and me!!!
Marietta Ginete Apr 2017
Ii'm a person that believes
that someday you will leave.
And that your smile will be the death of me,
for i know that we can never be.
My heart shouts your name
but if we change we'll never be the same.
Again, here we are.
I see you as nothing but a scar
from what we could've been.
Your hand lifting up my chin,
leaning in for something
that would get my adrenaline pumping.
But no, that'll never happen.
Your arms, i'll never be wrapped in.
You wouldn't show up at my door,
telling me you're wanting us to be more
than friends.

Your eyes told me secrets,
they would keep me sleepless.
It was a stare or a glance
that made me think I had a chance.
Besides, i was probably just another girl.
One of thousands in your world
that is also hoping to call you mine.
And here I am, waiting for something like a sign,
so that I would know when it is my time.
My time for you to love me, your time to rhyme,
your time to be head over heels for me
like how I am now for you, but you don't see.
When it is our time to be together,
I know you would hold me in the cold weather.

But I need to stop with all this thinking
before my heart ends up sinking.
All these what if's and could have beens
is where all the pain really begins.
Because it's you that keeps me overthinking,
and my imagination that keeps me hoping
for something that is way beyond my reach.
And it is you, within each.
I need to stop hoping
and maybe then I'd stop groaning
over a loss that wasn't completely mine.
Soon I'll be laughing and I'll be fine.
But for now, I'll still be desiring.
As long as you're still inspiring.
But I know for sure there's nothing for us.
And for this topic, there's no more to discuss.
i can be quite a pessimist at times.
I’m not a religious person
I’m not a Christian
I’m not a Muslim
I’m not a Buddhist
I’m not any of these
Or any other

I don’t believe there isn’t a god
I don’t deny God
I don’t deny Allah
I don’t deny Nirvana
I don’t deny any outside force
I just don’t follow their rules

I want to be my own believer
Disclaimer: This is not meant to make fun of any religion and I respect all beliefs. I only ask that you respect mine.
Fabiana May 28
you can call it god
or some other divinity not suitable for the human sight
or even science itself
but, something created you.
something, was meticulously organizing all your pieces in order to create you
“and the masterpiece was born.”
a sky full of stars would look perfect reflected in your eyes
some nights i only wish i could be all the raindrops dancing in your window
so when you feel alone watching the cold winter settle in
you would feel me there with you.
but instead i am the longing speechless voice shouting your name in pure pitch darkness
but then the night arrives
it delicately bewitches my sight
and the thought that we’re both admiring the same sky
embraces me
i’m reminded by my heart that
the mountains don’t seem so high to climb when i hear your lovely voice
and i’m left here with the stars
and this gentle thought of yours,
warms this cold night.
half moon run . full circle
Äŧül May 28
The Hindu girl was very poor.
Christianity offered her a better life.

The church bribed her to Christianity.
All she had to do was very simple.

She was very beautiful and slim.
All clergy wanted her to be their exclusive Ecclesiastical Ecdysiast.
Christianity faces a lot of criticism in India for blackmailing Hïnđū Đhärm followers into Christianity by using mainly a religious shaming tactic.

My HP Poem #1743
©Atul Kaushal
Eryck May 2018
Original thought is not knocking at my door. It seems there's very little original thought at all any more.

Put my brain back in storage up on the musty shelf. Seems everything I believe in is learned from someone else.

I just simply repeat back the things I've  been taught. Year after year repeating thought after thought.

A collection of opinions, words of others that I spout. Seems the easy way, so I open my mouth and they fall out.

The politicians and teachers and experts and the news. Have radically systematically denied my freedom to choose.

Unwitting copycat and imitator who historically repeats himself.  Without a genuine idea, put my brain back on the shelf.

Has everything I've learned and believe and everything I  know, produced an unauthentic me, God help me if it's so.

A wealth of original ideas, that would be my kind of wealth. If not take what I've  got and put my brain back on the shelf.
I realized that most of the things I say, believe, and know have been taught to me by others. That's why the CREATIVITY of poetry and writing can feel so liberating. Everyone ...keep writing. And I'll  keep writing too.
Kara Jean Feb 2018
You seem to be eating my insides

I watch

I am not helpless

I pretend not to see

Soon I will be left a rotting carcass

I am not afraid of the death you bring

I fear being left useless
Anne J Oct 2018
THORNED CROSS OF SCARLET TEARS,
OH HOW THY HAVE KNEELED TO THOU THROUGHOUT THE YEARS.
THOU SMOOTH BEADS THAT SWIRL AROUND THOU NECK OF THE HOLY SON,
OH HOW THY HAVE REPEATED “OUR FATHERS” AND “HAIL MARYS” FOR THOU PATRIARCHAL CREATOR ABOVE.
LOVING HANDS THAT SHALL SHOW THOU THE LADDER TO HEAVEN,
OH HOW THY BELIEVES WINGS WILL PREVAIL OVER THOU TAIL OF SATAN.
CIRCLES OF GOLD AND ASCENDED WINGS,
OH HOW THY AWAITS FOR THOU REDEMPTION THOU SHALL BRING.
FEMININE CANDLES TO AWAIT THOU FEMININE ACT OF BIRTH,
OH HOW THY LIFTS THE FOUR CANDLES FOR ALL THOU IS WORTH.
THE WINE THAT CAME FROM THOU WATER,
OH HOW THY SHALT TELL THOU MIRACLE TALE TO THOU DAUGHTER.
WHITE AND BLUE ROSES OUR LADY OF HELP REQUESTS AT HER FEET FOR HER BIRTHDAY,
OH HOW THY BUYS FLOWERS FOR THOU NEXT TIME THY AND THOU MEET.
HEART PROTECTED BY THE SHIELD OF THE HOLY SPIRIT’S GUIDANCE,
OH HOW THY NEVER BECOMES A VICTIM TO SUBSIDENCE.
WATER THAT SWIRLS INTO THE BLOOD OF CHRIST,
OH HOW THY REMEMBERS HOW THE SON SAVED US IN SIGHT.
BREAD THAT ENTERS THE BODY AND THUS THE SON HIMSELF,
OH HOW THY REMEMBERS TO REFLECT IN THYSELF.
EYES TOWARDS THE SKY IN HOPE OF MIRACLES,
HOW THE LIGHT IN THY VISION RETURNS SYMMETRICAL.
PAIN THAT DISAPPEARS LIKE THE AIR FROM THY LUNGS,
OH HOW THY REJOICES WITH THE WORDS THAT ROLL OF THY TONGUE.
PRAYING FOR THE HOPE THAT THOU SAVIOR PUSHES UNTO THY SOUL,
OH HOW THY GETS CLOSER TO THY GOAL.
REMEMBERING THE GRIM THAT THE CRUCIFIXION CAUSED THE SON WITH GRACE,
OH HOW THY IS STRUCKEN WITH TEARS DOWN THY FACE.
INVISIBLE MORTAL WINGS THAT SHALL ONE DAY BE SEEN AND RISE ABOVE,
OH HOW THY BELIEVES IN THE REDEMPTION BY THE DOVE.
I did this for a religion project last month, but had to scrap it and do a "I believe" statement instead. I didn't want this to go to waste, so here you go!
Jordan Rowan Dec 2015
**** the voices on TV that scare us into depression
**** the killers ravaging the innocent and the gentle
**** the institutions placing us into corners
**** the religions trying to sterilize our minds
**** the powerful that feed on greed and power
**** the lazy that leech off the hardworking
**** the women who use men for ***
**** the men who use women for ***
**** the people that don't believe that you are strong
**** the weakness in you that you know you can defeat
**** the false prophets of false beliefs
**** those who do not respect
**** those who do not love
**** the apathetic
**** the lazy
**** the rich
**** the poor
**** the dead
**** the alive
**** the miserable
**** the happy
**** those who say that life is not finite
**** those who say that life is not beautiful
**** everyone
**** yourself
**** death
**** all that does not make you a better person
**** all that does not help bring happiness to others
**** all that does not make you smile
**** all that does not make you weep
**** all that does not make you feel alive
Humans acting inhumane
purposely maim
For some higher purpose
serving no purpose
that requires them to purposely
commit these atrocities?

Pah-leeze

Kids and young adults
mostly dolts
not understanding
Looking to belong
it doesn’t add up
Won’t be long
until they’re not left standing
left underneath the heel
of a consuming lunatic
A blackened heart
no time will heal

Served up as another meal
Just an added wheel
One more cog
Doing for “God”
the most ungodliest of acts
Acting pious
but I’m not buying
Won’t get by us

Get left in the dust
They may be resolute
in this crusade they carry
but cruelty served among the blade
may have worked in the past
But that time has come and past
and like a book past due
so is the rue
that will be served upon you

Tuck those napkins into your shirts
because your time is short
And if there is a God
I’m sure you’ll meet him
and have to answer,
along with those of kindred spirit,
to next of kin
of those who are now spirits
The lives you took

Can’t take any more
Everyday many more
My eyes can’t believe
the ugliness and cruelty they see
So I turn away
I do not look
Don’t want to know
because ignorance is truly bliss
But is it?

Is it bliss for those
who’ll be sacrificed
so some nut job just might
go to an afterlife
with many wives
Are you kidding me?!

Take a hike
go fly a kite
because that’s about where
your ideas and ideals
(to use the term loosely)
come from

I’m in a fit
just thinking of it
This poem is long, I know
but I can not fit onto this page
the total rage
I hold in me for those
who can’t uphold
the simplest of human values
which is the value of human life

Where does one go wrong
in the head
to not see the wrong
no, instead
thinking okay
to take away
the precious breaths
we take each day??

Just go away
If you must ****
please start with yourself
Offer yourself up
to whatever it is that you are dreaming about
But leave others to be as they be
for they do not believe
what you believe

And don’t tell me that it’s not okay
to not think the way
that you think
Why, what’s the harm?
If you hold strength in your values
and beliefs
That whatever you’re chasing
is unwavering
Then how can I,
little ol’ me,
just standing here being me
How is that somehow an attack
on what you believe?

Just leave
You be you
and I’ll be me

It doesn’t matter what’s between
There’s no need to intervene
Shoo
Bye bye
Take a hike
*****

I promise not to judge you
even if my beliefs
are comparatively opposite
how it is the things you see

There's only one rule
You fool
As foolish as you are
Yes, a wound that heals
still leaves a scar
But you can't fool me
Nor will I be
Numb to the severity
Of the sickness that you teach

And sickness is the word
To describe the absurd
Of the nonsense that you heard
and accepted as true
because you have no values
Well, maybe to you
You feel you do
But these directives you choose
Need to simmer your stew
They're old; nothing new
Heard it before
On humanity, a sore
Faulty programming taught
For it can not be bought
Don't sell at the store
Not interesting; it's a bore

Young children know well
Yes we guide but don't sell
In each of us it's innate
Most choose love over hate
As a spectator you'd find
The majority of time
Even if no one is watching
People's actions are kind
Without being beaten
Because people want to be treated
With dignity and respect
What you give is what you'll get

So don't act like you've been chosen
That ******* you're holding
Its noxious scent fills the air
Through my nostrils it tears
But a fresh breeze
has rolled in
Brings with it the Golden
Rule; the same one
The simplest of tools
One of the first things
Taught to us in grade school
A basic design
Yet also eloquent
I think for most people
it's something inherent
The way that you wish
How others would treat you
Apply them to yourself
Make those actions what you do
And if all of us follow
Treating each other this way
The storm clouds would abate
Nothing left but brighter days
Written: February 22, 2018

All rights reserved
Traveler Oct 2013
So familiar these roads I travel
But where does reason lead
Now concrete which once was gravel
That's all that remains of my beliefs...

The mysterious remains as is
A ghost of a chance I may be right
There's more to ponder obsessively
Upon my bed late at night...
Use more then once

Traveler Tim
re to 03-19
Hadiy Syakir Oct 2017
Kudos to Kaepernick.

I just cannot drown all my beliefs and ideas, even if it contradicts my flesh and soul. When I heard that not standing up to the tune; that has always succeeded on sweeping all of the messes underneath the sad reality, to be deemed as subversive, I know that Rosa would definitely clench onto the seat tighter than ever.

Kneel, my friend, kneel.

To drag our body out there, all over the precious hills and fields, while acting as if the scale has always been set fairly beneath you all this time, will hurt you more than myself. How can a mere matter of things decide our future, our destiny? We shall shape our fate, you shall shape your own fate, and to be judged on the perception biasedly built in the name of order for thousands of years, is a situation that should not be endured by anyone or anything in a tiny dot within this vast universe.

Kneel, my friend, kneel.

And for that, I cannot stand proudly and profess my love to you as of now, even though I will always wear my heart on my sleeve for you to see. To be cheated, to be manipulated, to be deemed as surplus, by those at the tip of the plateau, that cunningly asked us to forget all the tangles and wrangles for the love of this sacred land, while unashamedly distribute everything off the land, off the ocean amongst them, is the last thing that we should allow to happen. I am one of those that can't simply put on the mask on top of our meant-to-be honest faces, to say hail to the thief is worse than the eternal grief. I have never dreamed of burying the hatchet with them, not even for a second and if I ever do it, I shall be condemned and dismissed for forgetting the roots, the fons et origo of mine. To love you does not mean to stand still to the soulless melodies, to love you doesn't mean to bow down to the meaningless piece of cloth that has overseen countless infiltration and bombing over the years.

Kneel, my friend, kneel.

To love you is to fight for the rights of many, by any means, even by not standing up. When black is no longer the symbol of miserable, filth and calamity, we shall then breath with ease, stand on our feet and fully embrace the real meaning behind all those majestic words.

Kudos to Kaepernick.
Marília Galvão Mar 2015
Now I ask you to join me
Now you celebrate
Not being me. Not being you
Only Us for the great

UN
load!
DIS
arm!

EN
large!
OUT
side!

Some steps I will take
Be my guest
Pull your anchor
Out of the lake



We're
In the room
In the building
In the crowded city
In the country with thousands of cities
The country shares the continent with an enemy nation
The two rivals are carried round and round by the Earth's endless rotation
The Earth obeys the master’s magnetic line, burning since uncountable clock time
The sun is blind to his insignificance too, ignoring billions of other star mates, it can’t see through
Immeasurable it seems, magnifying! All of them such tiny little parts in one of Miss Milky’s arms
Some light years away there they are: Pinwheel, Cartwheel, Black Eye, Andromeda and Cigar
Unmeasurable it seems, humongous! All of them such a fading little part of the cosmos

There you are
Floating from a distance
Feel the empty ground
Drink from the fountain of existence

Still blind to insignificance?
Still convinced about the rightness of imposed beliefs?
Still judging others’ defects according to our pretentious and vain mind?
Still punching away the different, protecting the mold?
Still reinforcing illusory antagonism and insignia?
Still seeing only two sides?
Still holding to the pride?

Still
In the ******* room

Am I? Are you?
Let's try it again
“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness." Mark Twain
Yassine Dec 2018
Reveal on your beliefs
And i will get you on your knees
Some are made to Speak
Others are made to Feel
No matter the Shapes and Colors you take
You remain in the Bleak
Can I die
Without knowing the time
Can I leave
With the warmest of embrace
Can I see the outcomes of my faith
Only to know the why’s of despair
For I’m not done by God’s grace
And little am I in the home of saints
But dreams conquer all hate
Of where I stand and where I’ll stay
And tested am I, in the actions of all myths and reals
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
I met myself among the ruins of life
The quiet simplicity of truth has left me speechless.
Around me I find discarded ideas and beliefs,
shells of relationships and the cries of lost ones.  

You’ve finally let me go after a battle so long fought.  
Gone to let me grow, to stumble though life on my own,
with the myths of youth scattered about my feet.
What is truth?

A lifetime since we said goodbyes
still I find you in my thoughts and dreams.
Kissed by your loving care.  
and protected by your memory.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
Juhlhaus May 26
Midway upon the journey of life I found myself
Riding zigzag through dark streets,
For there was no straight way
From Point A to Point B in the urban grid
And a ride share was only minutes away.
Thus I ventured deeper into the night,
While rosary beads swung hypnotic
At the mirror reflecting revenant eyes
Of one raised by an invisible hand
From salt water rocks where
As a boy, he said, he should have died.
Deftly navigating changing lights
Of amber, red, and green,
He humbly inquired after my beliefs
And the state of my soul.
As to this, I could not precisely say.
So I drew it out and held it gingerly
By the rough edges examining,
The best I might in that dim backseat,
Its creases, wrinkles, and scars.
In the rearview he saw all these clearly,
And with gentle resonance spoke
Of things impossible to know,
Less difficult to believe,
And blessed me so
That on passing out the door
I found my soul again soft and warm.
It was the most profound Uber ride I have ever experienced.
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
Yes, I remember you well, the curves of your face, your kiss,
your smell and look of love.
A lifetime ago now, I have visited that memory often in my dreams,
always trying to forget that moment in time.

Echoes of yesterday resonate within these empty walls
reminding me of the past I’ve left behind.
How different life with mercy could have been;  
kindness and compassion lacking, though pain remains.

Looking back I wonder, what life I could have made with you?
I grieved long over the image that soured long ago.
You claiming a life of love, betraying yourself and your beliefs,
yet breaking free from pain is what I choose to recall.

Seeing you now, I wonder how I could have believed that you
could have lifted me through this life,
and carried me though all that I have seen,
given me all that I’ve needed?
How could I have known you were not that strong?
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
Anani Muss Sep 2012
Ten tiny fingers
and
ten tiny toes.
All of which
I will carve,
and grind,
and mash
into this mold
that had been prepared
when you were just an idea.
A ray of hope.
A meaning of life.
A tiny,
vulnerable
egg.

You only know me,
therefore I am all that is.
My beliefs will become yours.
You will in turn become me,
except greater.
And I will expect nothing less.
You can not fail
because I have failed.
And you are perfect.
And you will be always,
because I have crafted you
from dirt.
And when you slip
I will remind you
what you are -
dirt.
Vicki Kralapp Mar 2018
It’s past the time we take a stand
within the shores we call our own.
Our country split, beliefs held tight
though voices hushed by fellow man.

The crack of guns in troubled hands
have bloodied floors of learned halls
and made us cry in distraught pain,
to see our young ones die for naught.

But though the crimson stains remain,
its youth rise up against the tide
of those who seek to serve themselves,
and make us hide our heads in shame.

Join with the youth who take this stand
and choose to make their voices heard,
for they are what our future holds,
and make us face our blackened souls.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.

Tribute to the student at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida.
The letter I never sent,
I write my valentine on your beating heart,
And send a perennial prayer,
That you could know without knowing.

Petals on your doorstep,
But no signature,
Pink Rosehip on your bedsheets,
Spying through your window blinds,
At someone unreal .

A label that travels as my desperations move it,
How I value the sick,
The unnatural,
The corpse and the consent.

The tenacious nature of a train,
With a hundred destinations,
None finite,
Moving and passing every station,
Leaving like it never stopped,

The will to pull me off it,
The weight of every expectation,
The ommitance after the deprication,
And the incommodious silence after the exposè.

I lust for that iced libation,
The roseate water of ivy and redemption,
A clay to fit inside my insatiable skin hunger,
A welcomed error of continuity in my own beliefs.

The rain of rapture will flood the streets to the chorus of weeping,
The composition of the crestfallen,
And my perennial prayer,
For an ardent antiphon.

-Unabaitingly, The Romantically Inept
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