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Fish The Pig May 2015
My father hit me.
Hands strangling my neck.
I was just a kid,
he said it was my fault,
I believe that it was.
He said I didn't deserve to live,
I believe that too.
I believe his screams
and the bruises he laced my body with
I believe his words
that I'm nothing
that I'm garbage.
I blame that monster
for breaking something inside me
that 7 years later is still not repaired.

I blame her for never calling the cops.
For calling me a liar
for telling me I gave the bruises to myself.
for making me feel guilty.
I blame her for telling me she wished I was one of her miscarriages
I blame her for telling me I'm good for nothing
for telling me I'm fat
for telling me,
like him,
I deserve to die.

I blame them
for the anxieties
and anger
and fears
and panic
and the scars on my heart.

I'm scared of the world.
I'm scared of it's people.
I need help.
I'm dying.
slowly.
quickly.
steadily.
and not at all.

I feel everything,
every word
every breath
is a dagger to what once was a heart
when every day
you're told you're wrong
you're told you're a mistake-
an inconvenience-
that could never be loved
it takes an effect
you cannot fight
and just when I think
maybe I can get better
a single word
sends me spiraling
dying
crying
suffocating
and scared
wishing someone would touch me
in a kind, gentle way
would hug me till I fall asleep
and love me
even though I cry a lot.

I was told
the blame was on me
that I ruin
and poison
everything I touch,
but I blame them,
so much so
I can't get better,
so maybe we're both to blame.
it feels so trivial, these things that happened.
it embarrasses me how much they've effected me,
I need to man up and get over it.
but for some reason I just can't.
Redshift Aug 2013
i blame a lot.
i blame myself
i blame the people around me
i blame the people that left me
i blame this town
i blame my family
i blame
i blame
i blame.

but what if no one is to blame.
what if this actually is just some freak of nature
and this is just how the universe plays out
a sick dance of broken family trees
a pageant frilled up
for all the soul ******* humans
to see
and partake
maybe i was meant to be awake
maybe sleep isn't for me
for a reason
maybe i'm supposed to be the alive one
maybe dying makes you breathe
maybe i'm just not seeing
what i'm supposed to see
maybe everything is backwards
like my sister's overalls
at her backwards birthday party
when we were
three
maybe
maybe
maybe...

maybe destruction is actually


d       e             s              t             i      n         y
Amanda Nov 2015
My eyes burn
That salty liquid i do blame
Frailty from within
Longing feelings i do blame
Behind closed doors does it keep
Desire i do blame
Time creater of distance
Silence i do blame
Jealous thoughts of mind
Doubting i do blame
Happiness in the warmth of arms
Loneliness i do blame
A heart so full
Love i do blame
I don't blame you
niether do I blame them
I don't blame history
though they are a scandalous
trend
I don't blame friends
niether I my family
but sometimes
my finger keeps poking on the enemy
I don't blame my job
cause my man yelps after I draw out his honey
I don't blame the government
for conspiracy theory and force of democrocy
But I can't seem to understand the not knowing of the ****** of Pac and Biggie

o_O

I don't blame God but I guess I am in total shame of denile
Politics are an excuse for judgement on oneself when all we need to do is get up off our donkey ***** and get a job.

© S.T. Rebel of Eden
Almost Lover Jan 2015
Blame it on the shame
Blame it on the judgmental tunes, that come from their soul
Blame it on the weather, who knows?


Eyes to the feet
Feet the floor
Blame on anyone
You don't want to be here anymore...

Open the gift to life
Close it fast
Blame it on God
This is going to last.

They take out the innocent
Leave the rude
Blame it on yourself
That you're still you.
Mike Hauser Sep 2017
Don't Blame God...
For the troubles you go through
He has a love more than enough
For the likes of me and you

Don't blame God...
For the shedding of your tears
He's here to wipe each sorrowful eye
And quietly calm the fears

Don't blame God...
Every time the wind blows South
You might be the breeze that causes these
Catastrophe's to mount

Don't blame God...
When others do and you still don't
Seem to have their needs met
Remember a need is not a want

Don't blame God...
When it's clearly not his fault
To set the blame simply state your name
More often times than not

Don't blame God...
For the lack of what you have
When you tend grab more than you give
You can only blame yourself
blame it on the last generation
blame it on the elderly
blame it on drugs or medicine
or on some imagined divinity
blame it on spirits
or blame it on corpses
blame it on anyone
you can ever hope to imagine
blame is the way we feel powerful
we sold them our blood
in order to feel magical
strategies awaken
the ones who are enlightened
are often the most ashamed to admit it
whats the sake of dying
if you haven’t felt ecstatic
i am blindly living
high as a rat on acid
sad and fantastically gorgeous
sordid and morbid
fornicating with dead dust
and rusted retrospectives
self-selected gardenias
dance in diamond studded patterns
rings of saturn and blue veins drift
from synapse to synapse
a synergy of solipsism
the solution to the illusion is within our
inebriation
its ******* traction in the static electricity we dance with
Jay M Wong Feb 2013
1:1
Stop. Who’s there? Tis clock strikes twelve,
brings thy Horatio to seek tis specter from hell,
In Denmark, something is rotting in thy state,
In Norway, unimprovèd mettle hot and full awaits,
Tis specter arrives to arouse confusion and fear,
but to treat it violence and majestic threat,
thy specter departs as the ****’s crow drew near,  
leaving the blows of malicious mockery to regret.
And for Hamlet may speak to the wandering soul,
Tis morning to Hamlet must the three a’go.

1:2
Claudius, thy Uncle, is crowned King a’last,
Gertrude, thy Mother, hastily marries a’fast.
With duties done, Laertes to France adieu,
Hamlet griefs thy Father’s death and thy Mother’s dine,
for once a Hyperion to now a satyr is Uncle to Father a’new,
is but now a little more than kin and less than kind.
Horatio brings poor Hamlet the fatherly news,
that King Hamlet’s specter is now a’loose.
The joyous Hamlet is but joyous to see,
the two month father, dead and decease,
but for he calls that foul deeds will foully arise.
He hurries to the heavenly site prior sunrise.

1:3
Laertes to Ophelia, a brother to sister, he warns,
that Hamlet is but a fiery lover and to love he sworn,
but to love now is but not the future,
for Hamlet’s fire may, thy mind unpure,
for his lovely vows are not to believe,
he is but a man of deception to conceive.
For when Laertes departs, Polonius rants,
that Hamlet’s love, Ophelia must recant
for his affections and fashions are but false wows,
for when blood burns, lends the tongue false vows.

1:4
Shrewdly the air bites, nipping and eager,
at Horatio and Hamlet thy specter nears.
To speak alone, it beckons so,
But Horatio to Hamlet speaks no,
for may it draw thy madness and strip thy reason,
but to thee specter does Hamlet go,
for thy life is but a’lacking living reason.
Aback do they hold him most,
but Hamlet, his sword he wields
Fate has brought him here, he feels
To hold him back is but to turn a’ghost

1:5
Revenge, does his heavenly father speak,
of tis horrid ****** of unnatural feat.
For the orchard’s snake, wears thy father’s crown
and ****** thy gracious Queen, whose now evil abound.
With dignity and devotion she loved me so,
but tis sinful ******, Hamlet, you must’a know!
Through my ears, a venomous potion he drew,
thy fair Uncle, Claudius that potion he brew.
Abed, my life he ended this night,
And to my crown and Queen took he a’flight.
For thy dearest father, revenge must thy draw
upon thy villainous head, Claudius must fall
And to thy sword thou dearest friends must swear,
to tell not the occasions of this night we bear,
And to madness Hamlet must falsely seek,
to discover the truth of horrid deed beneath.

2:1
Reynaldo to Laertes, Claudius a’spies,
to Paris, Reynaldo goes with a’plan devised,
to seek the situation of Laertes in foreign hoods,
with bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth.
Ophelia then enters, with her father she shares,
"Oh, father, father, I’ve just had such a scare!"
In her sewing room, it is Hamlet she sees,
with no hat, nor buttons, nor stable knees
For he stared and stared to let out a final sigh,
Love mad he may be, a’to King we must a’by.

2:2
With Rosencrantz and Guildenstern,
Directly or indirectly will Claudius learn,
of Hamlet’s matters they are to return.
Polonius, with news of Hamlet, he waits,
for thee Ambassador, to inform that Denmark Gates,
Are to be opened for young Fortinbra’s ****** defeat,
Polonius to Claudius, reveals thy madness roots,
For Hamlet is but love crazy for the fairest fruits,
of dearest Ophelia, who a letter he wrote,
Proclaims the fairness of her upon tis note.
And to test the truth, their confrontation, must’e spy,
Behind the arras to view thy love-mad side.
Is but our hastily marriage and his father’s death,
thy Mother, aware, are but the means of his mad breath.
Polonius then to Hamlet, speaks of witty words,
A fishmonger he calls, but one of two is misheard,
For when Polonius humbly takes a’leave,
He is but to take anything, but his life, shall he not receive.
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, enter to Hamlet, they chat,
but Hamlet to quickly find the two are but a King’s ****,
Only sent to spy on a dearest friend,
And to human’s name do they offend,
Only to betray a dearest friend in honor of the King.
And so Players arrived at Denmark grounds,
for they, the best in the world, Polonius sounds.
And then for Jephthah, witty Hamlet chants,
the song of a foolish man who accidently grants,
the sacrifice of his beloved daughter.
Pyrrhus, do they perform for dearest Hamlet,
His sword is a’air, but a’air it sets,
for he hesitates to swing thy sword,
And with this, Hamlet hopes to store,
the strength to **** the horrid Lord.
Though he is but ashamed, for upon false emotions can Players act,
And in himself upon truths, strength can he not extract.
So a play for the King’s conscience does Hamlet devise,
for the heavenly ghost may be false in his advice.

3:1
To be or not to be; that is the question,
For Hamlet to be nobler or to a’take action,
Shall he withdraw with ****** self slaughter,
But shall’st never may see thy fairest daughter,
To die, but to sleep for a mere dream,
But in sleep shall fair or foul be unseen?
Now Polonius and Claudius awaits,
for Hamlet’s arranged meet with a’bait.
Hamlet to Ophelia, his love recants,
For honesty and beauty are but Someone’s grants,
Once did he love her, but now a’figured,
that women are but corrupt and impured,
For one’s honestly and beauty can and shall be taint,
For if God given thou one face, dear not another by paint.
For honestly and beauty has God falsely bred,
All but one, shall women *****.
All but one, shall women be nun.
Hence this marriage is over, and to a nunnery at once,

3:2
Let this mousetrap be named and this play a’set,
Shall capture thy horrid mouse or thy Uncle of Hamlet.
Polonius to Hamlet, the theater he knows,
For a Caesar death died he at thee Capitol.
Upon the lap of fair Ophelia, does Hamlet, lie,
Only to think of country matters and nothing (he implies).
And the play begins, with a prologue so brief,
Like a woman’s love, was Hamlet’s belief.
The King and Queen, a loving bond they share,
But the King by a mystic potion envenomed beware.
Thee action to ****, a murderous scene it was,
Leaving Claudius to regret the murderous act abuzz,
He arises to say: Let there be light! Let there be light!
And to the joy of Hamlet to see tis joyous sight,
For the words of thy heavenly father was but right.
Now shall the minute parts of truth ignite.
And to his Mother he shall speak daggers wield none,
for shall his tongue speak of the cruelties undone.

3:3
With Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, to England a’go,
Should insane Hamlet know not a hawk from a crow,
And behind the arras, Polonius will again spy,
the taxation of Hamlet and his Mother’s cry.
Polonius departs to spy upon the Mother and the Insane,
Only to leave Claudius to regret thy hideous Mark of Cain,
Shall he pray the Heavens to forgive him his actions,
For thy stripped thy Brother of life, throne, and attractions.
As Claudius is never to withdraw his stripped token,
Divine forgiveness shall never then be unspoken.
Hamlet can **** not his murderous Uncle in praying stance,
For a hideous monster shall not a’go Heaven by chance.

3:4
So behind the arras dearest Polonius stays,
to view the idle and wicked tongue arrays,
Thou’st the Queen, Thy Husband’s Brother’s wife!
But to hear a rat, shall Hamlet for a ducat its life.
Oh, but death ‘neath the arras, may it the King?
A horrid act? To **** and wear thy brother’s ring?
Oh, King it be not, but be a wretched, rash fool,
And now shall Hamlet tell thy Myth a’Ghoul.
For thy murderer has slain thy Heavenly mate,
And only now by natural law does he abate.
Upon these portraits shall ring a’clear,
That from thy Heavenly father is he nowhere near,
A murderer, a villain, a horrid fiend,
He is but a devilish murderer yield unclean,
No way can one drop from THIS to THAT,
And shall by this scene, the specterous soul attract,
Dear not be untenderly to thy Mother it speaks,
And shall this revenge soon awake its peak,
Hamlet appears a’mad to thy watching Mother,
but to his mother he warns, abed not another,
For two mouths should speak of none,
of this revenge that will soon be done.
And again, abed let not him ****** you so,
For now, apart to English must’e a’go.

4:1
Gertrude to Claudius, she continues to reveal,
Of Polonius’s ****** and his arras squeal,
"A rat! A rat!" A’mad Hamlet is,
Brandished, to rapier the life of his.
And now where’s thou Hamlet still?
To draw apart the body he hath killed.
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern is but yet called again,
With discord and dismay, are they to seek that thou slain.

4:2
The two seek to Hamlet, for the body’s lair,
Compounded with dust now does it wear,
And a sponge, does Hamlet call them so,
for the King to squeeze them dry and thorough,
"A knavish speech sleeps in a foolish ear."
The body a’by a’King, but a’King, the body unnear.
And so, Hamlet to the King premiere.

4:3
And to Claudius does Hamlet call,
That Polonius now rests at a dining hall,
‘til a conference of worms devours him all
He shall eat not, but they eat so,
‘tis our fate despite status quo.
And upon the lobby stairs a corpse may lay,
One of dearest Polonius, slain to heaven or hell
Now to English death must Hamlet pay,
To one mother does he give two farewells.

4:4
With a Captain does Hamlet now proceed,
Who tells of young Fortinbras of Norway accede,
The Norway prince through Denmark he leads,
to seize a’minute ****** patch must’e receive.
A worthless land, must many die for one,
But true greatness acts not from fair reason,
But for the sake of the mind when honor is won.
And has Someone granted the reasoning mind,
For man to hesitate so cowardly inside,
For thy deed to act, must we rid the mind bind,
And act on instinct and be not wise.
And from the reasoning state must Hamlet now leave,
for honor he shall act, and his emotions he’ll believe.

4:5
False sanity is but false no more,
For fair Ophelia’s reason be not restore.
A’now sings of thy premature stone a’foot thy father’s grave,
and the departure of Hamlet for thy wed depraved.
Claudius is but to blame for thee rotting state,
For Polonius, a proper ceremony he not awaits,
For poor Ophelia, stripped from her reasonous state,
For Laertes aback from France, by thy father’s death, irate.
And Laertes enters, with thy support for king,
For the murderer, vengeful death shall he bring,
So Claudius to Laertes, says he is not to blame,
but thy father’s murderer is but another name.
And enters Ophelia, with figurative flowers to give,
But those of Faithfulness have ceased to live.
Alive are but for Thoughts, for Remembrance,
for Adultery, for Repentance, and for False Romance.
For his sister’s sanity is but another to blame,
Laertes, a vengeance mind, is but now aflame.

4:6
Horatio, a letter from Hamlet he receives,
that upon a Pirate ship has Hamlet board,
And that shall with speed would’st fly a’breathe.
Meet to hear the story Hamlet has a’stored.

4:7
Claudius to Laertes, he speak of innocence,
for by public appearance, the truth may bent,
For the public count loves Hamlet so,
And to thy fair Mother, Claudius a’beau.
Thy noble father lost and sister insane,
The murderous filth of Hamlet is to blame.
At this, a loyal messenger approaches,
to deliver the news that but Hamlet reproached,
An English death did Hamlet face not,
For now his destined death are they to plot,
Naked and alone, will he return to Denmark a’learn,
Of the honorable fence-match, he shall earn,
Against Laertes, whose fatherly love nor illusion,
Shall the death of Hamlet draw conclusion.
Even a’church will Hamlet, Laertes slay,
Death by no bounds, must Hamlet pay.
Envenomed rapier and wine shall prepare,
the faithful death of murderous Hamlet a’near.
Gertrude then enters with Ophelia’s news a’share,
For sorrows comes not in singles but in greater pairs,
Upon muddy death has Ophelia drowned,
for now another death has but profound,

5:1
Two Gravediggers upon one grave they create,
for to the death of thy Graveowner do they relate,
To die by self slaughter or to die by not,
the attention of passing Hamlet have they caught.
With Hamlet does one of thee two chat,
for once a woman, shall this grave be buried at,
A quick digger for Hamlet to his surprise,
Revealed that to England is mad Hamlet to advise.
For a corpse to live for eight or nine,
Thy dearest Yorick’s skull is to find,
Thy a corpse to date three and twenty,
Leaves Hamlet to recall thy memories a’plenty,
And to think Alexander, o’buried alike.
Here comes the King, Laertes and the Queen,
And upon the burial grounds is Ophelia seen,
His dearest sister does Laertes mourn,
But to Hamlet, her death, his heart a’torn.
Laertes to Hamlet, must’e not compare,
the death of one is a little more foul than fair,
For forty thousand brothers can sum not his love,
For the death of the fairest maiden beloved.
Claudius to Laertes, must Hamlet pay thy debt,
the plot of night prior shall’st not forget.

5:2
Hamlet to Horatio, does his truths trust,
Of thy wretched King and his unjust,
Of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern English death they meet,
With sacrifice and thy seal was thou to spare self defeat.
Now’st Osric enters to Hamlet a’chat,
For’st not hot, nor cold, nor sultry at.
And a’wish to court, with thy Laertes of excellence,
For Hamlet’s head does thee King expense.
With six French rapiers and poniards assign,
For by fate’s determination, shall this court incline,
For a special providence in the fall of a sparrow,
Can we do not, but abide by fate a’follow.
Trumpets and drums, now’st the fence begins,
For Hamlet and Laertes hand and hand therein.
Pardon he begs, Hamlet to thy brother,
For in him is but foil Hamlet yet another,
And so they fence for honor and fence for life,
Two of two leads Hamlet the strife.
The King, to Hamlet he drinks,
Tis pearl shall he the cup he sinks,
And unwounded for two, Hamlet prevails,
But Queen, the dearest Mother, so faithfully frail,
For she drinks thy cup of heavenly pearl,
For heavenly it be not, as thy malicious plot unfurl,
The cup! The cup! A poisonous potion,
Cause yet another by venomous commotion.
A distracting cause, for Hamlet to bear,
For Laertes envenomed blade must’e beware,
Now envenomed blood shall Hamlet shed,
Shall he hold thy rapier of Laertes instead,
to shed thy venomous blood of thy venomous mind,
For now thy murderous plot shall unwind,
At the honorable death of brother Laertes,
Shall the death of Claudius be a’seized.
The King’s to blame for the death of all,
And tis day shall he see his destined fall.
With thy venomous blade held a’hand,
Let the doors be locked and the evils banned,
For Hamlet wounds thy treacherous soul,
And shall horrid Claudius pay his destined toll,
For Hamlet forces to drink thy murderous potion,
And shall he too die of venomous commotion.
The death of four and tis ****** scene,
Shall Horatio tell to those unseen.
Shall he speak of murderous truths embark,
for Fortinbras shall now throne Denmark,
For in Fortinbras does his admiration lay,
For does Hamlet trust thou’st fiery ambitious way,
And tis now concludes thy Hamlet’s life,
For death and death thou’st all alike...
A dedication and summary of Shakespeare's "Hamlet" the tragedy of the witty prince of Denmark written in 2011 for a class journal assignment.
Michaela Apr 2014
Sure,

blame it on the girl,

who thought too much.

Blame it on the girl

who thought you might actually talk to her,

ask for her number,

and hang out with her.

Blame it on the girl who actually liked you,

and thought the best of you.

Blame it on the girl.

Blame it on the foolish girl.

Blame it on me,

sure.
Brent Kincaid Mar 2017
All cash must flow in only one direction.
All  must go to those who have a lot.
Alll POTUS tweets are used as misdirection
In Blame-a-lot!
The cabinet must all be legal morons
So they don’t see what POTUS has wrought.
Then they cannot be blamed for what goes on
In Blame-a-lot!

Blame-a-lot! Blame-a-lot.
It’s really much more than bizarre.
But in Blame-a-lot; Blame-a-lot!
That’s how conditions are.
In short there’s simply not
A much more likely spot
For shame and true chicanery
Than here in
Blame-a-lot!
(Sing to the tune of a certain Broadway show
with a similar name, written by Lerner and Lowe.)
NickBlockOneLove Jun 2015
foolish anger
i do not blame her
she can not touch the sky
all she sees is love
and we are all together
entwined
to be designed


foolish anger
i do not blame her
she can not touch the sky
all she sees is love
and we are all together
entwined
to be designed

don't you know
when you Discriminate
all it bleeds
is just hate
so
remember your fate
and
the ******
and the drugs
money
and the things
but are all these
qualities
inbreed between our eyes
i can tell you
its not your third eye
blind
open your mind
can't you see
all this negative
you can find
in the media
and all things of its kind

foolish anger
i do not blame her
she can not touch the sky
all she sees is love
and we are all together
entwined
to be designed

we live in a world
hate and satisfaction
acceptance and rejection
some say  traditional
i see irrational
observance
correspondence
and the media belief
spreads wide
spreads grief
and leads to the thief
of misconstrued relief
all the people see
is a world
with a focus
hate and satisfaction
acceptance and rejections


foolish anger
i do not blame her
she can not touch the sky
all she sees is love
and we are all together
entwined
to be designed

generations of many
goals of collections
and directions
filled with all the empty
elections
then corrections
you say traditional
all i see is irrational
wait
could it be just the passion
and the dreams
is all that the
ocean and the streams
have created within
imagine a world
left in the sun
gold in the sky
clouds of what came
clouds of what come
diamonds on the souls
searching this land
only wanting to be free
in a world
of
hate and satisfaction
acceptance and rejection

foolish anger
i do not blame her
she can not touch the sky
all she sees is love
and we are all together
entwined
to be designed

whats with this hate
wheres the satisfaction
all this acceptance
leads to rejection
with every moment
etched in some back stone
my friend bobby
dylan takes my soul
before we all go down
we will all remember
this young mans aching brow
something will all find us
when were buried in the snow
Pompeii was just a mystery
and now it is our home
consumed with a sense
of hate and satisfaction
acceptance then rejections

foolish anger
i do not blame her
she can not touch the sky
all she sees is love
and we are all together
entwined
to be designed

Foolish Anger
I do not blame her
She can not touch the sky
all she sees is love
and we are all together
entwined
to be designed

Foolish anger
i can only blame her
she lives in the sky
never knew love
always together
entwined
by design
We’ve all said it before, gave love the ******* after being shattered
Fell for someone & got treated like we didn’t even matter
Has love become tainted or is it just that we’re falling for the wrong people
Giving our hearts & taking that risk to feel another heartbroken sequel
Is Love really the blame for the pain or should we blame those who we’ve tried to love?
Blame Love or blame the wrong candidates for the cold hearted savages that we’ve become
Do we blame love for breaking our hearts & making us not want it anymore?
Replacing our hearts with an ice box & preventing anyone who attempts to explore
Confusing love with someone who wasn’t intending to love us
Confusing love with someone was only looking to use & destroy us
Do we really blame Love for making us feel incomplete
Do we really blame Love for our hearts’ tragic defeat
Is it really Love that we hate or those who’ve torn us apart
Is it Love that we hate or those who’ve destroyed our hearts
Love’s not the blame for the pain you’ve experienced, it’s those who didn’t deserve you
Don’t say “**** Love”, say **** those who’ve came around only to hurt you
So I have trust issues
Blame the people who used me
So I cant get through a day without thinking about death
Blame the people who abandoned me
So I feel worthless
Blame the things that fade
So I'm not the strongest
Blame everyone who brought me down
So my heart isn't whole
Blame the ones who broke it
So I'm messed up
Blame the people who judged me when they never knew me
Or all I've been through.
If I could blame it all on the weather,
the snow like the cadaver's table,
the trees turned into knitting needles,
the ground as hard as a frozen haddock,
the pond wearing its mustache of frost.
If I could blame conditions on that,
if I could blame the hearts of strangers
striding muffled down the street,
or blame the dogs, every color,
sniffing each other
and ******* on the doorstep...
If I could blame the bosses
and the presidents for
their unpardonable songs...
If I could blame it on all
the mothers and fathers of the world,
they of the lessons, the pellets of power,
they of the love surrounding you like batter...
Blame it on God perhaps?
He of the first opening
that pushed us all into our first mistakes?
No, I'll blame it on Man
For Man is God
and man is eating the earth up
like a candy bar
and not one of them can be left alone with the ocean
for it is known he will gulp it all down.
The stars (possibly) are safe.
At least for the moment.
The stars are pears
that no one can reach,
even for a wedding.

Perhaps for a death.
little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.
Cheyanne Lemons Feb 2015
In his brain, the metallic sweetness of the blood *****.
Because at night he strides on a tightrope.
Balancing between insanity and reality.
He takes pills cause they say it'll help his anatomy.
The clean flick of a knife against a throat.
He staggers and falls into the murky moat.

Don't blame him.

He's drowning in his own sorrow.
They swallowed his hope for a better tomorrow.
They locked him up in a casket.
Tied a bow around it like a basket.
But he's not six feet under.
He's stuck here, starting to plunder.

Don't blame him.

He knows that his past is drenched in black.
They told him he stabbed his mother in the back.
He feels their blood dripping down his fingers.
But still he can never remember what lingers.
The men in the long white coats talk about trees, and cars, and trains, and boats.
But all he can remember is the room that he's in.
His vest held together by a chain and a pin.

Don't blame him.

He's hugging the padded walls.
Dreaming of the day where his sanity calls.
He's tired, he knows that his mind is already expired.
Yet still every night, he strides on a tightrope as his essence is groped.
Everyday he's on the verge of insanity and reality.
He makes sure they don't change his anatomy.
His white vest restrains him.
It tends to drain him.
Everyday he dreams in blood.
But then again how could you blame him.
They'll eat him alive before his life claims him.

Don't Blame Him.
Adeola A May 2011
I don't blame you
Not for the words you forgot to speak
Not for the actions you didn't take
Not for the thoughts you left me to think
Not for the regrets, not for the mistakes

I won't blame you
or your eyes blinded so conveniently
or your ears momentarily blocked
or your lips silenced repeatedly
or the shame the years have unlocked

I shouldn't blame you
because I did not open my mouth to tell
because I fought my battles alone
because it's not your fault you didn't know
because I kept my burdens all my own

I do not blame you
I will not blame you
I should not blame you
But I do
Jonny Rulon Nov 2012
hes skipping the blank parts.
fire spewed speaking out his eye and everything.

swear it lets the silence in.
to ***** midmorning naught but bile

and tar from your lung, sour taste on tongue 'and charred resinous lips and cankers in mouth.

skipping the blank parts.
this is too much to put in words it pains darling like mouth is faucet ears are ringing sight is grey and unwholesome nerves are sweaty like wrists and jaws too. heart thick heavy beating like a ******* palms and brow sweaty

a new nightmare never sleep gone delirious ever after think only of the thee and the thine and what can i do to make it stop naught but drink for ever after.

early sunday is the worst day. days are ever after cursed is sunday and the bad day, was always was it leads to monday and the no sleep and you go to school or work and they all know you are so tired

so id rather skip the blank parts and spend in blankets cold and clutching to this bottle ever afer like a baby cuz its nicer when its blank here.

------------

so now its the dawn gray, the child breathes in all the nerves of the surrounding block and breathes in.

what thoughts there darling stir that tattered man of child man of scattered breaths and
and of least action least least resistance

night smokes away in his lungs.

his sight unsteady and grey, **** the stars.

his head holds the stars as he passes away.

he thinks, "I dont wanna be astounding, I dont wanna be anything, the dreams, i smoke the night away...why wont they listen?"

the yammering outside his windows

he clutch the sill, needs for balance and hes sweating thinks the week back in his memory. did something dumb but he skips the blank parts like a movie but its not his cellophane life its becoming more like that he thinks

-------------

the cats outside his window yammering outside his window

"headache man and the sunup surprise" he thinks, garlictongued and glittering of sweat.
something strange here something dumb something wicked.
like melodica, im disturbed in step

hitched his pants hitched breathing summer sweet midsummer nightmare is the thirst and drink.

"and somehow it helps" he thinks, head droning like the bees they are buzzing out his window, but screech in speak like the crickets

the air might ripe and seethe.

he can barely breathe.

the scarlet cheeked is he and fairly farther from himself than usual, laid away in pace and time and people, all else arrested. the vines now they crawl along his sill on which he clutches ever after pick the roses from his cheek.



and so he often thinks of it, and his peers think its selfish, but he pronounces himself in such ways as to make it pronounced that he is thinking of this.
and they give him no consideration, no pause or gaze to entitle him to a moment's breath of doubt,
that he is most gnawingly alone.

they gather no cinema, no accord, no intervention. they simply do not comment upon his lost thoughts. and this no comment, for him it seems, gives him validation for his, heretofore mentioned, but heretofore implied, unmitigated and (some may say) uncalled for unarrival.

there are no senates in the state of human. only the mindnumbing pain that is his sour being, upon which he has coerced the subject upon the senate to be impressed:
that he is waiting for the right moment, to be impressed.

to be enough to take himself.

it is not pity, but such a bitter impulse.
that brings him to himself, to take.

------------

and as father of all pronouncements, the species of newspaper blaired...
"the king is dead, long live the king."
so of which he was reading, was par for the course.
he sat down with his wife, and his son, and he spoke to them gracefully in his normal fathers and mothersfamily whisper, he said:

"this is the time when we must eat our cereal, and be well-versed in our gods, and our gaols. and we must believe in the powers that be. for they have told us no lies and will tell us no lies. and if it not so, then this paper begs the difference.
this paper...pulp...and felt, and gold, and ink. will never speak of us naught.
and for what they proclaim to us, the masses, is written in ink,

and thus, so stone.

so believe."

so god ate his wheaties that day.

------

and so i rant and so i speak in illogicals and i so im biased i know.
this is what it takes to be a journal and to filter all the bad ***** things that are black out of the poets mind.

so blame it on cadence, blame it on speak, blame it on linguistics, blame it on my upraising, blame it on an apathetic attitude,

i dont care, just blame it.

just it is my mood and it will not be forgotten, it is me that is scribing this sentence, so it is not forgotten, on the fence and bethrothed to many ideals hence so i be,

i am not an idiot.
i am no coward.
i am not a leech, nor am i a parasite, nor i am a murderer, nor am i criminal.

i sit still still with moles burrowing their burrs into the underground, waiting for the tunnel, and so, the light.
Aa Harvey Jun 2018
Blame


I am the wave blowing through you;
Blame it on me, or blame it on you.
Blame it on something I can’t prove, like I love you.


Here we are staring at the sky,
Watching our lives pass us by.
When we were young, we had it going on;
Now we are gone and can blame no-one.


It is such a shame when there is no-one left to blame,
For all our mistakes, which lead us to think again.
We must accept our inability, to be loved.
We must accept our inability, to be something other than a love.


We tried to work things out but now we are over;
We never took the time to figure out what we needed from this.
Our relationship died and my life became much colder,
But I no longer blame you…your love I will always miss.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Amber K Sep 2015
The sad thing is,
if I love someone,
they can hurt me for no logical reason,
and I will still try to figure out what I did wrong.

I blame myself.
I can't help but blame myself.
It doesn't matter what happens,
it always feels like it's my fault.

It's like someone could decide to stab me in the chest,
and I'd spend my last moments trying to comprehend what I did.
I can't find blame in others as much as I can find blame in myself.
Because I don't particularly care for myself.

Maybe it's because growing up,
I was taught to love other's,
but not so much to love myself.
but it's no one's fault I ended up this way.

No one could've predicted I'd be so messed up.
Maybe I did it to myself.
After all,
I am always to blame.
I have a lot of issues. I'm sorry my poetry is such crap. I just have to vent.
AmyKatrinaSmith Nov 2015
Once you were so sweet
you had a gorgeous smile
once you played guitar
I stayed there for a while

heaven opened up
you owned the place
slipping away so slowly
now its hell I taste

The memories of all that we shared
can't be forgotten, can't be compared
will I recover, oh I'm so scared
my heart full of rain and
your the one to blame

Oh, you never tried
the more that I knew, the more I died
do you have no shame
just shatter my pride
and your the one to blame

am I a fool, waiting around for you?
when I know its something you'd never do.
you pushed my love aside, that's something I cant abide
And your honestly the one to blame...

Scribbling away on my walls,
have I gone insane locked up in doors?
your the one to blame

why did you hurt me so?
you always had to be in control
never letting me In, just letting yourself win.
what did I do, why can't you love me
am I invisible, cant you see?

Oh, you never tried
more that I knew, the more I died
I got a reason now to bury you alive
What do you think about that?

I don't think ill be OK
I can't believe, you could treat me this way
I do believe, you didn't try to stay

I don't think ill be all right
AND YOUR THE ONE TO BLAME.
Another old one of  mine iv just rediscovered.
OnlyEggy Apr 2011
They say, The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain
But I blame, in vain, the rain for the insane, you see
This plain pain hasn't the same name, nor the same game
For the rain's pain is the same sane as they claim
And since the pain's shame resides mainly in Spain,
Neither the rain nor Spain is to blame for the insane, so now
This sane can claim the uneven plane's plain's the name to blame

But the strife of life is held under the knife of a wife
Where strife runs rife throughout the wife's life
The knife, learning from the fife, plays with the life
While the fife excites life, the knife excites strife
The wife with the knife is at fault, fact or fake?
Is the knife to blame for the strife of the wife's life?
Or the fife for teaching the knife to play with strife?

This just goes to show that no one knows the real rose
For the rose, in it's thorny clothes, just shows the nose
The smell, a pose, so close, tingles the nose till it glows
But the finger, too close, chose to trust the nose's prose
Blame the rose who proposed the show and showed the pose?
Or the nose, whose clothes glowed from the smell of the rose?
The finger couldn't 'ave known the true pose of prose from the rose to the nose.
Another Insomniac Poem
Melody Jan 2011
To blame someone;
know their story.
To that of treachery;
is a deadly sin.

Do you blame someone?
Once upon a star.
Do you blame her?
Shooting silver lights.
Is there a reason?
On the dark and rainy night.
Can you blame her?
To test my strength.
Could you blame her?
And my weaknesses.
Will you blame her?
My kindness fled over.
Why? Because of your puny power you call courage and sensitivity?
Cover my eyes.
Why? Why do you choose to lay your guilty life onto her?
Because she's the one who made me who I am. But thinks me with such base thoughts.
Do you wish?
Do I wish what? That my flailing end will come to reach me at any moment? That her dark hole of controversy will pull my into a story? Do I have someone to blame? To tell my individual story? To read it's painless points? to rate my conversations?  To make my day when everything is wrong?
No. I never wish upon a star. The first falling cherry blossom of the season.The hare shaped cloud of the year.

To blame someone else;
know their story.
And to that of treachery;
is a harmful sin.
No dedications. Because no one will bring my flailing end.  "I wish not to meet my death so quickly, but I'm no fearsome man."- From Unreplacable.
Sam Conrad Dec 2013
258 days,

August
Between July and August,
I think I said the dumbest things I've ever said to any organism that breathes, ever.
Ever.
I went so crazy throughout the summer.
I kept missing Nick.
I told you such horrible ****. I should really just ******* **** myself for what I told you.
I seriously told you I only was with you because you'd probably hurt yourself.
I seriously told you that fair wasn't important.
I threw hissy fits over not hanging out. When it was mostly my fault anyway.
Doesn't that just prove how awful I am
...
You know, I'll probably treat the next girl to stumble into my heart bad too.
I'm a bad person.
Surely I will, because I'll never get over you, who I called my soul mate...
So how could I treat the next person well?
Instead, to save everyone the trouble,
I should probably just **** myself. Really.
But I can't push myself to do it,
Because that seems like an easy way out of this pain
That's a way out of my pain.
I need to keep living this life I'm in now
I need to keep suffering and dying, without you.
I've convinced myself I deserve it.
My life is so awful, that I consider living normally a form of self harm...

So anyway...

I kind of took Brandon under my wing, as he missed Nick too, even more than I did,
I spent way more time with Brandon, than I did with you.
I'm sorry I did so. He felt so guilty, for not going over there, how he or I could have saved him.

I spent the whole first week of this month out of state too.
Hold on, rewind the tape.
I told you what you were doing was unimportant
Yet I was out of state at a country music festival and that was supposed to be important?
I was so ******* stupid.

It was only then that I realized how ******* horrible I was to you. When I finally started piecing this whole thing together.

I can't blame your parents for jack squat.
I don't blame your friends.
I don't blame that girl you're falling for, that picked you up,
Because you needed picked up.
I still can't believe what I did to you.

Invited you over on my brothers birthday,
I would be moving into my parents house soon, and I wanted you to meet them
You smeared icing on my nose,
I got you back.
My grandparents were there, and things were moderately happy.
At least, okay...

Then I saw the scars on your arm.
Then I lost my cool.
Then when I drove you home,
I drove as if I was dropping you off at the ******* hospital like you were ******* dying
And after I dropped you off
I drove like I was ******* suicidal

It was my fault you relapsed
I'll always blame myself
Because I treated you like ******* ****
And I can't not blame myself.
I can't blame you for anything looking back
Because all I did was tear you up and let you down
I told you it was okay.
You didn't believe me...
Meanwhile I was fuming,
Some because of the promise you made me
But really, because all I'd ever done was **** things up
I can't blame this on your parents.
I can't blame you.

That's August.
Duke Thompson Feb 2016
Cracks in the foundation -
They don't make 'em like they used to. Chipped concrete, rusted rebar
Fading facade

I make facile arguments
Excuse myself

Blame mental illness
Blame the drugs, the molly years
Blame ****** (I don't choose life)

*******,
Ian McGregor

Blame the ****** February weather
Blame the itchy sweater
That is life

If that truly is life then,
Become I conscientious objector?
Already live in Canada

Blame the city
Blame the *****
Blame yourself

They say we have agency
I grasp, I reach
But the fruits
Are bitter sweet
**** the bed honey
Like Spud lovely

Which lines do I keep?
And who to throw away?
Vilakshan Gaur Apr 2015
All these colours I see around
they all have started to seem grey
the blatant petals of tulips bloom
shameless in the light of day
I blame the things that make me whole
despise the winds that roar and roll

I'm shadowed by my thought
and wonder when the night arrives
when tulips no more bloom or boast
the moon shines shameless in the night
still I'll wonder why I'm alive
and deny myself a worthy life

All these colours; they have no dreams
and so my dreams are greyish black
malignant grief like a venomous snake
bares its fangs and bites my back
time goes on without a heed
as I go on without a plead

It does not end, the suffering stays
I have become a hollow shell
a carcass that just will not die
my body once hallowed, now a hollow hell
peace has said its last goodbye
the devil stares with his evil eye

Yes I've seen the diamonds rust
I've witnessed ache of battered bones
I blame the things that grant me life
my scattered thoughts, and shattered hopes
I blame the thing that they call God
and grieve the death of virtue, awed

This sublime sickness rots my soul
this horror! If only I were blind
I blame and blame, all and everything
leaving my murdered self behind
But what's their fault? they cannot help
now I see; now I see, I blame myself
When you sit in your room and cry,
You can't blame me,
For I did nothing wrong.

When you decide that you don't want to go to school,
You can't face their taunts and teases,
You can't blame me.

When you find that the one person that you trusted, turned against you,
You can't blame me,
For I did nothing wrong.

When you find me sitting here,
My blood barely seeping through my hallowing veins,
You can't blame me,
For I just found an escape.

But you see,
While you can't blame me for any of these things,
I can...
I blame my parents for being afraid
for teaching me every sharp edge of the world
and learning I might never be safe

I blame my parents for being lonely
for missing people I never had
and I know will never hold me

I blame my parents for the sleepless nights
for wondering if I will ever get it right
or one day wish I could go back in time

I blame my parents
because they are my parents
and I can blame them
for who I turned out to be

But when they are gone
and all I have are memories
I’ll just blame them
for leaving me.
Connor C Blake Sep 2014
I once set sail to a shipwreck and no one’s heard back from me yet.

Whether or not this storm can be weathered, my torn sails and bruised masts will be seen fighting the futile.
And whether or not I can come back from this, I won’t dock at familiar shores for a while.

This salty shame-filled seawater may as well be the blood that flows so reluctantly through my veins because inside it all feels the same and at least then I could give the ocean some of this blame.

I’m still made of rotten wood and rusted nails,
I just got better at sinking.

But I’m tired of throwing buckets of salt water over my head hoping I don’t slip,
So maybe I’ll take a break from going down with the ship.

So maybe I can take note from the tide and change.
Because I'm so ******* tired of trying to figure out how I wound up on this page.

Blame it on bad luck, blame it on love, blame it on god,  blame it on the price of a new heart, blame it on a bad start, blame it on the ******* weather,
But even as the water rises, I can still hear the echoing lament of a would-be sailor,
“I swear I can be better.”
Live performance: https://soundcloud.com/connor-c-blake/sail
I blame you.
For the dreams that died.
For the love that i will never have.
For the smile that you took from me.
I wanted to fly far away but you
Burnt my wings keeping me
In the cold darkness.
I blame you for killing me.
I like to take a negative feeling and turn it
Into something good.
We should allow people room to grow and breathe support someone in there dreams
#blame #dreams #darkness #killing
E Jan 2019
You could have smiled
but you did not
You could have laughed
but you did not
So now we are at this point in life in which we are stuck
Yes..... us
It was the thought of us making it further
Where?
It could have been a mistake
No...... it was a mistake
But in a way I suppose we are not to blame for this
You could not have known
And I could not have told you
I could not have showed you
Even if I tried
I don't blame you
I blame I

You tried to help me
I did not listen
I was to stubborn to heed you're call
The harder you tried
The further I'd fall
I don't want to fight
I suppose I surrender
So in this letter
Return to sender
But when you do
Remember that I
Do not blame you
I blame I

So I guess this road some way now end's
A lot of twist and turn's around the bend
I hope I find what I'm reaching for the way that it is in my mind
I hope you love and love no more
And do it the best you can
And in that sound the 5:30 bell
there's a train at the station
The whistle has wailed
Darling I loved you
Boy how I tried
I do not blame you
I blame I
Just figured what the heck nothing better to do
Lay no blame at her feet,
she of victory, torch of light.

Lay no blame at her feet,
an eagle soaring, trade her might!

Lay no blame at her feet,
for chaotic nations, destitute and plight.

Lay no blame at her feet,
the wicked crowned, wealth takes flight.

Lay no blame at her feet,
her majesty waning, her people benight.

Lay no blame at her feet,
'Taker of Blood;' red, blue, white.
Cedric McClester Mar 2016
By: Cedric McClester

Sixty miles an hour
The train came down the track
A car full of teenagers
Were dead on impact
Cos they ignored the warning sign
And here’s a sad fact
All that’s left now is
Their blood on the tracks

Blood on the tracks
Blood on the tracks
Blood on the tracks
Blood on the tracks

It started as an outing
They were headed for the beach
But that’s a destination
They weren’t destined to reach
There’s a lesson here somewhere
For us to teach
Trying to out run a train
Might be too great a reach

Blood on the tracks
Blood on the tracks
Blood on the tracks
Blood on the tracks

Blame it on bad luck
Or the folly of youth
Blame it on sad circumstance
Or the awful truth
Blame it on an errant chance
Someone must have goofed
Blame it on what you want
But their deaths are the proof

Blood on the tracks
Blood on the tracks
Blood on the tracks
Blood on the tracks

It’s so very hard
For the families to take
As they share fond memories
At each of their wakes
Where the thought occurs
Had they just applied brakes
They might be alive today
Someone says for heaven’s sake

Blame it on bad luck
Or the folly of youth
Blame it on sad circumstance
Or the awful truth
Blame it on an errant chance
Someone must have goofed
Blame it on what you want
Their deaths are the proof

Blood on the tracks
Blood on the tracks
Blood on the tracks
Blood on the tracks


Cedric McClester, Copyright (c) 2016.  All rights reserved.

— The End —