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"bluntness" poems
Long night drives with a can of golden liquid bitter bluntness are two ultimates that ease the shaky hands and ghosted thoughts You left me heaving through punctured lungs and broke every rib along the way and I picked up my scattered bones and apologized for the mess How many more cups of tea until I become harbour?
0
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 9:16 PM UTC
Corona over a cup of Twinnings
You lack honestly The mere bluntness I seek Your shadowed emotions Hidden, masked Behind blurred, Mixed signals Submerged in frustration Confusion Trying to decode Your thoughts Your actions Your words Do they mean nothing? Or is there something here? A small spark to a flame Growing at a brisk pace Or perhaps its the end The end of hope My hope You call me Text me Hug me Even kiss me You tell me how much I mean to you How much you trust me Then you stop Not only do you lack honesty But you are indecisive Your emotions shadowed Trapped, confined Behind blurred, Mixed Signals
0
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 12:06 PM UTC
Mixed Signals
If I wrote you a love poem would you clam up in choking modesty, embarrassed by the still raw love that's been cooking but is yet to be served. If I wrote you a poem of friendship, would you retreat back into solidarity, annoyed at the bluntness of my open soul. If I wrote you a poem of mourning, would you fill with resentment at my supposed plea for pity If I wrote you a poem of joy would you counteract the skip in my step with a lag in yours because enthusiasm is corny in large amounts And if I wrote you a poem of desire Would you avert all eyes back to the screen because Romeo and Juliet is a bit outdated and imagination has fled from the heart and away from its sensory outlets Or… If I wrote you a love poem Would you beam with a smile that radiates from your eyes and cheeks and shoulders and knees Because you need all the passerby to know of our love, wordlessly..shamelessly.. If I wrote you a poem of friendship would you deliver me my favorite coffee, pick me up to go on a road trip to anywhere If I wrote you a poem of mourning, would you hold me and give me the smiles and hugs that I am temporarily and humanly void of.. If I wrote you a poem of joy, Would you let my spirit set fire to yours So we can dance around like idiots aimlessly And if I wrote you a poem of desire, would your body tingle and feel like its never felt before, unsatisfied until our legs and tongues and hearts are entwined Or am I too Disney?
0
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 2:01 PM UTC
If I Wrote you a Love Poem
Only one little                silly tiny                        movement can create ripples of effects and tonight as I reached for the garlic or salt or whatever the hell it was--- something harsh was set I brushed your shoulder or was too much in your space somehow jolting your ego from its permanent, fragile place             You chose to take that and make a fight from dust and this in turn led to splitting hearts               spitting corrupted trust passive aggressive silt swept out from under rugs emotional bluntness of punches instead of the realness of hugs Where have we reached what have we done All I know is my heart's on         the run These little ***** triggers        can open Pandora's sick, dark box unlocking old resentments from behind rusty locks "You will never be forgiven" are words that destroy they suffocate and choke turn real gold to alloy and Man, this gold is melting down running in streams painting false this town in shades of hurt in shades of pain just lay me down in this thick desert sun to bear this unbearable                    splintered strain Let me pour this liquid burden into the salt of the cracks of the earth Let me be replenished with crystal water coolness as I, head held up in tears,                            remember                                     my golden worth
0
Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 3:02 AM UTC
Ripple Effect
Only one little                silly tiny                        movement can create ripples of effects and tonight as I reached for the garlic or salt or whatever the hell it was--- something harsh was set I brushed your shoulder or was too much in your space somehow jolting your ego from its permanent, fragile place             You chose to take that and make a fight from dust and this in turn led to splitting hearts               spitting corrupted trust passive aggressive silt swept out from under rugs emotional bluntness of punches instead of the realness of hugs Where have we reached what have we done All I know is my heart's on         the run These little ***** triggers        can open Pandora's sick, dark box unlocking old resentments from behind rusty locks "You will never be forgiven" are words that destroy they suffocate and choke turn real gold to alloy and Man, this gold is melting down running in streams painting false this town in shades of hurt in shades of pain just lay me down in this thick desert sun to bear this unbearable                    splintered strain Let me pour this liquid burden into the salt of the cracks of the earth Let me be replenished with crystal water coolness as I, head held up in tears,                            remember                                     my golden worth
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58
I think about my birth, my gift of life gave you pain, I think about the people in my life...some leave me but you always remain, Even when I am your source of grief my joy is at the top of your list. Even if you are cold to the bone, keeping me warm you can't resist. You're the epitome of sacrifice, a close definition of love. When I see you being selfless I see that there really is God above. I see Him perform His acts through you, As you care for me and my sister too. Through being human, through being emotionally blind, I had failed to see the truth, I had shutters on my mind, But through some miracle, through some inexplicable event, I finally see what I was supposed to see-something even my ignorance couldn't prevent. You are a rare gem, you are a bright beacon in a storm of darkness, You are my favourite poem-all of you, including your bluntness. All of my success I owe to you and your perseverance, I owe it to your love, your attention and your constant vigilance. Your prayers were not in vain; I will be worth all that pain, Through what won't come and what may, By your side, Mom, I'll forever remain.
0
Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 2:26 PM UTC
Every Day Is Mother's Day
Speechless conversations often lead me to mental ******* But verbal *********** goes deeper than any relation, Please excuse my bluntness but the thought alone of straddling your mind makes me weak...
0
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 7:59 PM UTC
The Mind of a Sapiosexual
You played my heart When I didn't know That you were a coward An award of aloofness One that you wore along That robe you hang on to You played my heart When I gave my all My sincerity and core A naive genuineness One that I wear on my soul The one you rolled downhill You played my heart When emotions strangled My struggles to balance As I closed off from love The chorus of bluntness The song you taught me You played my heart When you needed a muse A bold and beautiful image To ****** your taxed brain A goal to hear me fall hard As I lost guard of my life and all You played my heart When I felt I was going crazy Effused with pain and cold Strained and stressed Lost in a jungle of the lonely Gifted with battles and concepts You played my heart Then made me learn hard That I was stronger than I was That I was unique and visioned That I was a capable phenomena Able to pass on the pressed alleyway
0
Jun 22, 2016
Jun 22, 2016 at 5:21 PM UTC
You Played My Heart
~~~ a poem derived from these words of Joel M Frye "Poetry is a self-policing agency, enforcing nothing ~~~ The Truth Burden is the accursed need obligatory, the sacred sanctity requisitioned, when the whenever, chooses to drops in and upflag the mailbox, an uninvited invitation, announcing with precise bluntness, that precisely now, is the tool crafted moment and you fool, are the selected tool you must render unto Ceaser, by your own hand, render your own rendering, do your own undoing, go forth and in haste, will thyself into the cauldron of the Great Mystery of Creation you cannot lie in poetry -one can only validate- you will tell the whole truth, and nothing but, all in good order, to secure me to thee, to muddle our molecular cocktail mix, you must, must give only truth in poetry, or give nothing police yourself in every aleph bet, don't substance abuse us with deceit, give only your unburdening, force us to lip kiss when we face each other, when pronouncing the blessed script of ourselves, that we have been granted by sharing each other's unvarnished lettres the burden is to un burden cut out what needs to be bridged from the secret walled-in safe, and give form, life and breath, expose it to the atmosphere, reform your bleak introspection and white horseradish bitter realism, turn blue blood veined internal into an amberina red, all by being unsaved, unsavory, unsafe you are the enforcer, you are the police, you are the validation and the validator, enforcing this sole law, police your self, give us with no agent in between, give us nothing but, a voice one will recognize instantly as the whole fats milk of truth oh, how I will embrace thy one and only, when given, your one and only for do we dare disagree that is each other's truths that shall set us free? ••• for we are the inhabitants, of this wild land of no inhibitions, no rule of laws, except one, defend the essence, protect the defenseless integrity, promote the mystery of the human poem
0
Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 9:21 AM UTC
The Truth Burden (you cannot lie in poetry)
~~~ a poem derived from these words of Joel M Frye "Poetry is a self-policing agency, enforcing nothing ~~~ The Truth Burden is the accursed need obligatory, the sacred sanctity requisitioned, when the whenever, chooses to drops in and upflag the mailbox, an uninvited invitation, announcing with precise bluntness, that precisely now, is the tool crafted moment and you fool, are the selected tool you must render unto Ceaser, by your own hand, render your own rendering, do your own undoing, go forth and in haste, will thyself into the cauldron of the Great Mystery of Creation you cannot lie in poetry -one can only validate- you will tell the whole truth, and nothing but, all in good order, to secure me to thee, to muddle our molecular cocktail mix, you must, must give only truth in poetry, or give nothing police yourself in every aleph bet, don't substance abuse us with deceit, give only your unburdening, force us to lip kiss when we face each other, when pronouncing the blessed script of ourselves, that we have been granted by sharing each other's unvarnished lettres the burden is to un burden cut out what needs to be bridged from the secret walled-in safe, and give form, life and breath, expose it to the atmosphere, reform your bleak introspection and white horseradish bitter realism, turn blue blood veined internal into an amberina red, all by being unsaved, unsavory, unsafe you are the enforcer, you are the police, you are the validation and the validator, enforcing this sole law, police your self, give us with no agent in between, give us nothing but, a voice one will recognize instantly as the whole fats milk of truth oh, how I will embrace thy one and only, when given, your one and only for do we dare disagree that is each other's truths that shall set us free? ••• for we are the inhabitants, of this wild land of no inhibitions, no rule of laws, except one, defend the essence, protect the defenseless integrity, promote the mystery of the human poem
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94
I'm not interested Is that so hard to say? I'm not interested in you Those words come out like butter and yet the thing you try and do Is hold onto to me for later Put me to the side There I sit hoping and praying I'll be the apple of your eye But you're not interested in me You know it You're not interested in me Let me go so at least if I cry my eyes will finaly see Are you so selfish to keep me around? To trod on me and smile Each time I am your turning point When you cry tears of crocodiles Just let me go! Please! Just let me go right now! Tell me to my face that you dislike me! How? With sincerity! With bluntness! With no sugar-coated words! You've led me on for far too long to the point where it's absurd Your killing me You really are My hopes and dreams compacted Into the scene you've set for me and constantly reenacted **** you! You vile creature! You deserve not a tear from my eye! But here I stand with my heart in your hand and knife you put in my side Oh dear coward Just say it Say you're not interested in me So at least you and I can walk away with some shred of dignity But you won't Will you? You'll keep me safely in a pocket Not telling me a single thing, putting me in your secondhand locket Just say it, please I beg of you Just for once say it. Please. Tell me deep down you've always known you're not interested in me...
0
Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 10:29 AM UTC
The Confession of A Lifetime (That Will Never Be Heard)
Though I wear no crown of decadent jewels pressed down around my brow, It can be said that I am beautiful. Needing no assistance from a mask of make-up and every hair doing as it pleases, I am told that I am beautiful. Without the burden of corsets, push-ups and garters; no cocktail dress draping my shoulders, I look in the mirror and am satisfied. I wear blue jeans, t-shirts and tank tops; tennis shoes, flip-flops and high-tops, And still my legs are long and lean; my shape curvy and full. And while I walk by, a southern sway in my step, you know you take more than a cursory glance. I have attitude, and bluntness inherited from my line of honest folk. I am country. I am bold. I am ruthless. I am simple in the way that diamonds are simply compressed carbon. I am beautiful in the way that only a southern girl can be. I am a huntress with my 243 across my lap in a camo blind. I am an actress as I smile and say “Bless your heart.” I am a lover if there ever was one. I am a fighter when the chips are down. I am my father’s nightmare and my mother’s dream. See me with my mut from the pound that’s better trained than your frou-frou, AKC registered pom-poo. Join me as I sing the hymns my granny sang with the same tone and inflection. I am educated with my poor country grammar I use only to spite those who think I’m ignorant. I know more about tracking a blood trail than I do about propriety, But I’m studied in the art of being couth. My southern charm is mixed with brazen straight forwardness. I am proud. I am American. I am beautiful.
0
Jan 15, 2012
Jan 15, 2012 at 12:50 PM UTC
I am ...
Though I wear no crown of decadent jewels pressed down around my brow, It can be said that I am beautiful. Needing no assistance from a mask of make-up and every hair doing as it pleases, I am told that I am beautiful. Without the burden of corsets, push-ups and garters; no cocktail dress draping my shoulders, I look in the mirror and am satisfied. I wear blue jeans, t-shirts and tank tops; tennis shoes, flip-flops and high-tops, And still my legs are long and lean; my shape curvy and full. And while I walk by, a southern sway in my step, you know you take more than a cursory glance. I have attitude, and bluntness inherited from my line of honest folk. I am country. I am bold. I am ruthless. I am simple in the way that diamonds are simply compressed carbon. I am beautiful in the way that only a southern girl can be. I am a huntress with my 243 across my lap in a camo blind. I am an actress as I smile and say “Bless your heart.” I am a lover if there ever was one. I am a fighter when the chips are down. I am my father’s nightmare and my mother’s dream. See me with my mut from the pound that’s better trained than your frou-frou, AKC registered pom-poo. Join me as I sing the hymns my granny sang with the same tone and inflection. I am educated with my poor country grammar I use only to spite those who think I’m ignorant. I know more about tracking a blood trail than I do about propriety, But I’m studied in the art of being couth. My southern charm is mixed with brazen straight forwardness. I am proud. I am American. I am beautiful.
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25
When I look into the mirror I see a girl- A girl who hides behind her skin I see a girl- A girl with a look in her eyes A look of regret A look of sorrow A look of a painful experience I see what you've made me to be I am a victim of yours I am the girl they talk about I am your victim I am the girl you damaged I am your victim You're ******* victim - When I look into the mirror I see nobody I feel nobody I hear nobody When I look into the mirror I see the fear blazing into my eyes I feel the masculine of your hands beaming down on me I hear your muffled groans and audible grunts I am what you've made me to be ----- I had a life I planned a future I wanted love I wanted a husband I wanted children - I wanted so **** much but- I want you, I want you dead Buried six feet plus in the **** soiled ground I want you gone Banished to hell! ---- When I look into the mirror I see the outcome of my most horrid nightmare I feel the bile rising in my throat because you never fail to make me sick- I fear you I hate you I ******* HATE YOU But you're the only one I can think about. --- I was raised I was loved I loved too But you took that from me You took so much from me Confidence, you took from me Bluntness, you took from me Pride, you took from me I believed in myself I had faith in myself But you took that from me ----- I see you, Often enough On the streets, selling dope Riding around, lookin for ****** In my dreams, ****** me again! You destroyed me, you took my womanhood away You did this to me! - LOOK AT ME! - I can't walk outside alone because of you I avoid alleys because of you I hide behind tinted sunglasses hoping and praying I don't run into you -- You changed my life in more ways than you can imagine I am not the same person I used to be I am not the same person I was last year I am not the same person who completed high school I'm not same person who politely introduced myself to you I am not the same person my parents knew me as I- I-... I am nobody -- All because you took myself from me.
0
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 7:28 PM UTC
The wolf
When I look into the mirror I see a girl- A girl who hides behind her skin I see a girl- A girl with a look in her eyes A look of regret A look of sorrow A look of a painful experience I see what you've made me to be I am a victim of yours I am the girl they talk about I am your victim I am the girl you damaged I am your victim You're ******* victim - When I look into the mirror I see nobody I feel nobody I hear nobody When I look into the mirror I see the fear blazing into my eyes I feel the masculine of your hands beaming down on me I hear your muffled groans and audible grunts I am what you've made me to be ----- I had a life I planned a future I wanted love I wanted a husband I wanted children - I wanted so **** much but- I want you, I want you dead Buried six feet plus in the **** soiled ground I want you gone Banished to hell! ---- When I look into the mirror I see the outcome of my most horrid nightmare I feel the bile rising in my throat because you never fail to make me sick- I fear you I hate you I ******* HATE YOU But you're the only one I can think about. --- I was raised I was loved I loved too But you took that from me You took so much from me Confidence, you took from me Bluntness, you took from me Pride, you took from me I believed in myself I had faith in myself But you took that from me ----- I see you, Often enough On the streets, selling dope Riding around, lookin for ****** In my dreams, ****** me again! You destroyed me, you took my womanhood away You did this to me! - LOOK AT ME! - I can't walk outside alone because of you I avoid alleys because of you I hide behind tinted sunglasses hoping and praying I don't run into you -- You changed my life in more ways than you can imagine I am not the same person I used to be I am not the same person I was last year I am not the same person who completed high school I'm not same person who politely introduced myself to you I am not the same person my parents knew me as I- I-... I am nobody -- All because you took myself from me.
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81
Sarcasm is anger in disguise Cynical wit turned into lies Cutting and burning bridges and ties Until I feel too hollow to even rise Bluntness is a wonderful gift A symptom of an allergy to ******** Used by people used to grit But optimistic enough to love it
0
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 12:07 AM UTC
Now I Lay You Down to Rest
Tumbleweed Ted Old John Merchant, Joan Harling Edith Smith David Wilkinson, Mike Waldron Marie Ainsworth Ruth Bell, Lucy Ritchie A list undignified by death In an instant deflated, unwound Vibrant yet now not a breath Missing, lost, not found I mourn every one of their names And all that each one implied Merely a lifetime ago They came, they lived, they died. The bluntness has ruined my mood With the arrogant stealing of life It demanded all my attention Then cynically wielded the knife I'm trying but their voices are fading As my brain's recordings wear out And the clarity of all their faces Is blurred with the pallor of doubt So all I have now are some photos Flat caricatures of their lives Each one replacing my memory With a past that cannot be revived Relentless my list will grow longer Crushing for each name a line And my heart will grow ever more heavy Till the last name that's added, is mine.
0
Nov 22, 2010
Nov 22, 2010 at 2:53 AM UTC
Missing in action
as if the bruises of my self conscious's grip weren't enough of a reminder of my harsh imperfections, their icy stares and startling bluntness ring a brutality in my eyes that can only be absorbed by those foolish enough to cross over into the unmapped, untouched. it is there where I finally feel my lungs expand and my lips moisten from knowing that I am NOT defined by a flaw or a handful of them, placed intricately along the paper thin lining that means nothing in the end. but in an instant you wrangle me back into a place where the spots matter and I don't.
0
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 6:07 PM UTC
It's called psoriasis, ******
Sometimes I dream of suicide. An elaborate term of my demise. If I attempt by great height, My head is then full of fright. "The height is far too great." Stepped away from edge of my estate. If I attempt to take it by knife, I then begin to think of my wife. Lying there, like a crazed fellow, For the Lord knows I am no Othello. If I try to take it through grief, That suicide would be none too brief. The long drawn out hectic space, Of wading through troubles at a slower pace. But that is the method that I choose, For I cannot attempt the cunning noose. If by noose, I commit the crime, I would solve my problems fine. But by then the deed would be done, I would be departed, the world won. But I will not back down like that. I shall go on, with the word, "attack." My life will not be solved by you, I'm sorry for bluntness but it's true. I will forge my own perfect path, With all of my problems facing my back. This is how I shall do the deed. Go down fighting, the rest will be history.
0
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 5:22 PM UTC
When I Dream of Suicide.
One cold breeze flitters by, Awake, a shiver rolls down. Seeping through the ground, Coated in many aspirers lie. Abrupt to awaken an eye, Gazing the half clearer image. Soon greeted in holy light, Fixated, gasp a lonelier sigh. A shadow sweeps by up high, Quickly to restore the blind. Bones barely intact inside, Reaching up seeking a sign. A shrivelled tongue I do try, Forcing out the air for words. Eyes swelled, an anxious look, Patience left to care the tide. The blue air reflecting from the water, Soon I arise to realise where I’d laid. The minute grains, digging deeper, Penetrating through my rough skin. A slight wash for the ends of my toes, Clearing the dirt further up my feet. Soon my whole legs were glistening, Shining like the pearls deep beneath. With my head levelled I start to recall, Visions for which I felt most alone. I search my pocket to reveal a clue, That night I spent burning in waste. Shaking in disbelief, falsely accused, The bluntness of my saviour’s truth. The sea I think to dispose this guilt, An addict never deserves his mercy.
0
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 6:55 AM UTC
Ashes and Sands
Thanks for listening, though I'm only writing this because I've assumed you're filtering all my e-mails into your trash. Who can blame you? I am remembering the time we went to Lost Bar and then walked around my neighborhood for awhile. It was Spring, wasn't it? 2013. It was one of the few times we had fun together after actually going out. I remember that we returned home and as I was walking out onto the patio I said something about how I would probably never get married, because I can't handle the seriousness of forever monogamy and the weight that it carries. The limitations, the non-mystery. Such casual bluntness, unfiltered by my self-proposed life expectations or indirect efforts to keep you around, both of us hoping. Wishing. I'm slowly realizing that we had a friendship. Somewhere in there, under the jealousy and resentment and the mismatch of our personalities within the confines of cohabitation and romantic expectations. Our breakup was inevitable. But there were parts of us that I'm glad I saw. My habits are the same. I hope you are well.
0
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 9:55 PM UTC
Transience
Of what lies the fate of being One? The aspirations of a paradise fast forgone. Peers that flux to tame tide. Dreams of Heroes they far together glide. Morrows they lived to prosper in love. Affections that glow, no one needs to plough. Rustic although was dark. ***** although civilisation was lack. Yet! Still yet!!! The bluntness of the spear cuts through many hearts. Her invincible hand drops inventions of it kind to dirts. A long journey into the wood is what draws nearer. Moonlight folklores, dominating smell of affection in d air. Hopefulness of hopeless tomorrow’s meal a Dear. Sounds of the storm, through pavorated doors, roofs left ajar. The storm of life rages to scatter the sands. Erosion into throats wanders fleshes into pounds. Everyone, many one, all one soughts to touch what brains now serve as it grows. Big houses, bigger pockets, a good life as it goes. Exodus of now, without a Moses of now into a promised land that Joshua never belonged. Pillars of light, Amalekites in all ways with many Yawehs. Now! All is touched, many is known except a paradise that used to be. Crowds are made, Banks now a pocket, and so are Devils that flux as Bee. Nostalgia haunts like nightmare. Ways back summons with all lyrics. All ways looks like that fare. Heart longs, threatens to pieces. I set back to trace all tunnels. All tunnels that lead to paradise far forgone. A Granny that gets all into her without funnel. An uncle that treats all for one. Journey that used to b an epic now concave. Rural that reminds paradise now like the hell forgone. All I long to see now gone with the wave. Things are no more the way it used to be while we were one.
0
Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 10:31 AM UTC
*****So Gone A Paradise******
Of what lies the fate of being One? The aspirations of a paradise fast forgone. Peers that flux to tame tide. Dreams of Heroes they far together glide. Morrows they lived to prosper in love. Affections that glow, no one needs to plough. Rustic although was dark. ***** although civilisation was lack. Yet! Still yet!!! The bluntness of the spear cuts through many hearts. Her invincible hand drops inventions of it kind to dirts. A long journey into the wood is what draws nearer. Moonlight folklores, dominating smell of affection in d air. Hopefulness of hopeless tomorrow’s meal a Dear. Sounds of the storm, through pavorated doors, roofs left ajar. The storm of life rages to scatter the sands. Erosion into throats wanders fleshes into pounds. Everyone, many one, all one soughts to touch what brains now serve as it grows. Big houses, bigger pockets, a good life as it goes. Exodus of now, without a Moses of now into a promised land that Joshua never belonged. Pillars of light, Amalekites in all ways with many Yawehs. Now! All is touched, many is known except a paradise that used to be. Crowds are made, Banks now a pocket, and so are Devils that flux as Bee. Nostalgia haunts like nightmare. Ways back summons with all lyrics. All ways looks like that fare. Heart longs, threatens to pieces. I set back to trace all tunnels. All tunnels that lead to paradise far forgone. A Granny that gets all into her without funnel. An uncle that treats all for one. Journey that used to b an epic now concave. Rural that reminds paradise now like the hell forgone. All I long to see now gone with the wave. Things are no more the way it used to be while we were one.
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22
Cut to the quick With bluntness Put down several hundred pegs Where I languished Shredded, unravelling Until the fabric Of my being Was reshaped Resewn
0
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 7:31 PM UTC
Rags
There once was a boy who loved the moon, He wasn't liked the rest. For him, the girls would swoon, Devotion proved a test. The girls would come and go, All with broken hearts. "I hate you, boy" he said, "I know", Bluntness was his art. Then she came and made him feel, He knew it'd be his doom. But when they kissed, it felt so real.. He considered becoming a groom. Then one day she decided to leave, The boy didn't know what to do, Without the girl he couldn't breathe. He thought she felt that way too.. Finally one night, he figured it out, But it wasn't something to boon. He was sure, without a doubt, She was the girl who loved the moon.
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Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 10:22 PM UTC
The boy who loved the moon
Chill. I’m cool. Supposedly I’m chill. Why am I chill? Probably because I don’t care. I don’t really have any feelings, Towards what other people say or do. So I lack the empathy to relate people! Please I apologize for my angst and hard bluntness. I apologize for being weird, and hard and cold and uninviting. It’s just the way I act outside from inside. It’s my way to never get hurt, ever. Inside I’m loud and scared to feel. It’s hard to live like that. To live in loud fear. Do you know me? Anything at all? Actually shy. Shy.
0
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 11:53 AM UTC
My Scarlett Letter
when the politicians open up their traps we're fed a diet of political crap they think they are out smarting us with the unpalatable stuff they feed us we're wise to the diatribe which is shoved down our necks each day we wont be fooled by anything they say our Prime Minister stood up in parliament to tell the members to be of a kinder bent but in the next breath he got out his nasty tasting mace to give the opposition leader a bit of its in the face well that doesn't sit too well with the public at all as they don't much like seeing an all in brawl the politicians should be less rough as their verbal insults can be too tough they should be practicing what they preach instead of going well beyond the breach how can we respect anything they utter when all they say is best kept in the gutter our politicians are far from a good crew all to often their distasteful jibes make us stew they are losing all respectability which does little for their publicity their bluntness in the bear pit we'll not have a bar of it
0
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 6:57 AM UTC
Bar Of It
Everything is measured and sized Necklaces gaudy and gay, Rings of different carets mingle near gold and silver bangles   No scale or ruler marks distances between them Templates screen words of spontaneous bluntness   Turn the apple toward the worm's tip peaking through the skin Cull the fruit  from the basket   Between ardent glances and shallow breaths- an awareness of nourishment beneath peeled skin   All realize one seldom cuts delicious melon without spilling some juice
0
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 8:42 PM UTC
Measured Moments
Thy the art Thy my heart Its beat and the heat Pointless drift in pure chaos Filled with islands of all the kinds Some bearing peace, some with joy Deep dark paths, and killer traps Waters of kindness, hunts for the stillness Ever growing numbers of unsaid beliefs Merry go around overwhelming bluntness I wish I knew how to steer the ship Would have been pointless even so, Since I am not sure what I am in Is it ocean? Of fire for a change? Or a vast blank space of the universe maybe? My my, is this the first? Ever been the same with anyone? Doesn't matter anyway I guess I know this is inexplicable So, I am not waiting for advice
0
Sep 30, 2025
Sep 30, 2025 at 11:47 AM UTC
Inexplicable
Astonishingly crass and Brave in all situations Comfortable in all quandaries Daring beyond belief Elegant and poised Furious and feisty, fueled by anger Grand individuality with a Heart of ice and hate Irreverent and haughty Jester of pride, sarcasm, and sass King of bluntness Lively, rambunctious spirit Mastermind of Neuroticism, never in Oblivion because Pressure cannot persuade me Quick to speak out against the wrong for the Right reasons but truly Selfish motives Tainting the Ubiquitous notion that every altruistic attitude springs from Very bubbly and confident people Wandering through life with the Greek concept Xenia exhibited on the sleeve Yelling boisterous excitements that could a game Zoning in on all the end goals These are the misperceptions That create me
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Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 2:19 PM UTC
Alphabet Soup Misperceptions