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"boomerang" poems
What you put out is returned by the universe, Karmatic boomerang giving back joy or hurt, Keep your thoughts positive it makes a impact, Be happy with life realizing nothing it lacks, Depression or anxiety attacks, Are illusions of the mind thats a fact, A negative mind won't bring a positive life, Worry about you and just do what's right, Times arent hard unless you make them, Dont live in fear of hell or sin, Mistakes is what they are and you could be in hell now, Just change up your perspective and live proud.
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May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 4:12 PM UTC
Live proud
You were so hot I spun twice to see, call me a fan Your regal youth made my blood boil, call you peter pan *You were like a boomerang I wanted to throw away but you kept* coming back to me, *And maybe I've always been scared of hurdles and you were my biggest one, 'cause I just can't* get over you, you see I thought you were like a paradox: Cool as ice and hot as molten rock You were like a magician with words, drove me so crazy I was pulling out my hare, You steal my heart like a pirate captain when I sea you standing there, But you didn’t have any morals, I deserve to call you whoreible Yet you still think you're cute. you know? leaving my house the way you came would be adooreble I discovered your texts to her on my birthday, the cake was ruined with my tiers You caught my Eye with your animal magnetism, but you’ve been a cheetah for years What? you think this is a game? No, you don't have a clue! You had a monopoly on my life and now your name is taboo You said you needed some time and space to yourself you were the only one in the galaxy I Wanted, I guess life never turns out how you planet and since you left I've been feeling haunted, Why did I believe you were a great catch? Just because you **master ***** You made me think we could smash; every second felt like a brawl Loving you was no gouda, though I swiss you now that you’re gone, it isn’t easy, I said goodbye, It’s not you it’s brie, sorry that was cheesy. You gave my life flavor but you were just a masked spyce that made my life sour like limes I know I need to chili but you have really bad taste and we’re out of thyme I need a holiday *from your lies, my patience is running short I’m better off with you gone, and leaving you is my last* resort I guess we didn't have that spark no need to be astunished, all I know now is: IT IS TIME YOU WERE PUNISHED.
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Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 9:52 PM UTC
It is time you were ***PUN***ished (Collaboration Spencer Craig and Ember Evanescent)
You were so hot I spun twice to see, call me a fan Your regal youth made my blood boil, call you peter pan *You were like a boomerang I wanted to throw away but you kept* coming back to me, *And maybe I've always been scared of hurdles and you were my biggest one, 'cause I just can't* get over you, you see I thought you were like a paradox: Cool as ice and hot as molten rock You were like a magician with words, drove me so crazy I was pulling out my hare, You steal my heart like a pirate captain when I sea you standing there, But you didn’t have any morals, I deserve to call you whoreible Yet you still think you're cute. you know? leaving my house the way you came would be adooreble I discovered your texts to her on my birthday, the cake was ruined with my tiers You caught my Eye with your animal magnetism, but you’ve been a cheetah for years What? you think this is a game? No, you don't have a clue! You had a monopoly on my life and now your name is taboo You said you needed some time and space to yourself you were the only one in the galaxy I Wanted, I guess life never turns out how you planet and since you left I've been feeling haunted, Why did I believe you were a great catch? Just because you **master ***** You made me think we could smash; every second felt like a brawl Loving you was no gouda, though I swiss you now that you’re gone, it isn’t easy, I said goodbye, It’s not you it’s brie, sorry that was cheesy. You gave my life flavor but you were just a masked spyce that made my life sour like limes I know I need to chili but you have really bad taste and we’re out of thyme I need a holiday *from your lies, my patience is running short I’m better off with you gone, and leaving you is my last* resort I guess we didn't have that spark no need to be astunished, all I know now is: IT IS TIME YOU WERE PUNISHED.
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26
Maybe I needed words to confirm whisper them when it's your turn mouth me from across the room E-L-E-P-H-A-N-T J-U-I-C-E is the same as I love you deceive me with mammals as I play piano pouring my heart upon the keys do with me as you please "I'm yours, I'm yours" rings out the chorus the deafening silence of love unrequited. A boomerang that doesn't come back a runaway train on broken tracks maybe I should have held onto words not listened to the singing birds that told me you felt the same how could I believe your heart was tamed for I am no ringmaster a gazelle that's wandered into foreign pastures I was your prey yet I was bold for the words I say are seldom told with such earnest longing so behold I L-O-V-E Y-O-U
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Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 7:48 PM UTC
Elephant Juice
The swallow of summer, she toils all the summer, A blue-dark knot of glittering voltage, A whiplash swimmer, a fish of the air. But the serpent of cars that crawls through the dust In shimmering exhaust Searching to slake Its fever in ocean Will play and be idle or else it will bust. The swallow of summer, the barbed harpoon, She flings from the furnace, a rainbow of purples, Dips her glow in the pond and is perfect. But the serpent of cars that collapsed on the beach Disgorges its organs A scamper of colours Which roll like tomatoes Nude as tomatoes With sand in their creases To cringe in the sparkle of rollers and screech. The swallow of summer, the seamstress of summer, She scissors the blue into shapes and she sews it, She draws a long thread and she knots it at the corners. But the holiday people Are laid out like wounded Flat as in ovens Roasting and basting With faces of torment as space burns them blue Their heads are transistors Their teeth grit on sand grains Their lost kids are squalling While man-eating flies Jab electric shock needles but what can they do? They can climb in their cars with raw bodies, raw faces And start up the serpent And headache it homeward A car full of squabbles And sobbing and stickiness With sand in their crannies Inhaling petroleum That pours from the foxgloves While the evening swallow The swallow of summer, cartwheeling through crimson, Touches the honey-slow river and turning Returns to the hand stretched from under the eaves - A boomerang of rejoicing shadow.
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4.3k
Work and Play
The swallow of summer, she toils all the summer, A blue-dark knot of glittering voltage, A whiplash swimmer, a fish of the air. But the serpent of cars that crawls through the dust In shimmering exhaust Searching to slake Its fever in ocean Will play and be idle or else it will bust. The swallow of summer, the barbed harpoon, She flings from the furnace, a rainbow of purples, Dips her glow in the pond and is perfect. But the serpent of cars that collapsed on the beach Disgorges its organs A scamper of colours Which roll like tomatoes Nude as tomatoes With sand in their creases To cringe in the sparkle of rollers and screech. The swallow of summer, the seamstress of summer, She scissors the blue into shapes and she sews it, She draws a long thread and she knots it at the corners. But the holiday people Are laid out like wounded Flat as in ovens Roasting and basting With faces of torment as space burns them blue Their heads are transistors Their teeth grit on sand grains Their lost kids are squalling While man-eating flies Jab electric shock needles but what can they do? They can climb in their cars with raw bodies, raw faces And start up the serpent And headache it homeward A car full of squabbles And sobbing and stickiness With sand in their crannies Inhaling petroleum That pours from the foxgloves While the evening swallow The swallow of summer, cartwheeling through crimson, Touches the honey-slow river and turning Returns to the hand stretched from under the eaves - A boomerang of rejoicing shadow.
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44
So many chiefers and not enough Indians There Yosef go with that ******** again fools can't comprehend Cuz them weeds they choppin' put all thoughts to end So come again like ya repeating the same thang Ghetto Twain rhymes like boomerang leavin' welts on the back of the membrane My topics ain't meant for population So if you don't like change the **** station So fools keep on puffin' and I'm.keep on stuffin' My minds with nothing knowledge I learned nothing college But to party and ******** shut and take a hit Let the dogia explore your deepest mind terrains Got ya hooked like a crane invoking much pain Time is suffering people offering up sacrifices And claiming they just being nice for the right price They'll sell out they soul for few ounces of gold So you see what's happening blasting like rocket Coming for pockets of fake prophets once I'm set I'm a raging bull so ain't no stopppin' it Then next thing ya know I stare at the floor and the window My third eyes enlighten Thinking to myself I gotta go but I got buzz contact off that fake indo... Shaking my head looking at these young studs Laughing at em smokin'them fake budds
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May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 4:41 PM UTC
Still Smokin' Budd
The cyclist on his bike, fueled by sweat of curiosity, Wondered Wondered why it was that he could not fly He thought therefore he became and on that bike of gold He soared, the heavens a freeway for the blind Finally seeing : Earth is merely an elephant graveyard for the angels The knowledge was a toxic pinball, corroding his insides as dust He felt despair creeping like smog (knowledge spoils) Without thought or command his flesh imploded Snapping like a boomerang at the end, the beginning Of the universe. And then he was a fiery star, His bike of human mold cast down (and sweetens) Without restrictive ears he could comprehend The slow mellotones of his fellow Fliers, Travellers, Stars They hummed a warning to the man who was not Of the hazards of thought And the universe was silent again.
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Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 4:21 PM UTC
The Cyclist
I use to laugh at ironic things No punishment for the bad deeds The Bible says that good 10 fold The universe returns to us in gold That fairytales and nursery rhymes Exist to scare and keep us in line But on this day fate stepped in And karma it seems is a comedian A lesson weaved throughout every line Carefully crafted as a warning sign It was a day like any other As usual jumped in the shower Quickly washed and rinsed my hair Noticed too late that it was NAIR! Every luscious lock and strand Fell out completely in my hand What seems like a sick joke being played Or demented parts a malicious prank A plot unfolded my part the lead The lines straight from a horror scene Like laws of nature or earths gravity The rules we bend to suit our need Like a boomerang’s invisible path It seems to follow when it comes back Even the ocean and it’s changing tides Needs the moon’s persuasive side We are the keepers of what we seek And what we sow we indeed will reap The nightmare that we fear the most Comes back to haunt us like a ghost Like Peter Pan and Captain Hook Just a good story in a children’s book what if the earth gets bored of us And decides that we are entertainment those characters we read as kids Like Pinocchio or the 3 little pigs Sleeping beauty or the ogre Shrek You thought was funny as a sketch Brought to life would pose a threat Although to you this seems far fetched The truth Ive written has not been stretched I hope you read this and know as fact What you put out there will soon come back
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Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 8:47 AM UTC
Karma Comedian
I use to laugh at ironic things No punishment for the bad deeds The Bible says that good 10 fold The universe returns to us in gold That fairytales and nursery rhymes Exist to scare and keep us in line But on this day fate stepped in And karma it seems is a comedian A lesson weaved throughout every line Carefully crafted as a warning sign It was a day like any other As usual jumped in the shower Quickly washed and rinsed my hair Noticed too late that it was NAIR! Every luscious lock and strand Fell out completely in my hand What seems like a sick joke being played Or demented parts a malicious prank A plot unfolded my part the lead The lines straight from a horror scene Like laws of nature or earths gravity The rules we bend to suit our need Like a boomerang’s invisible path It seems to follow when it comes back Even the ocean and it’s changing tides Needs the moon’s persuasive side We are the keepers of what we seek And what we sow we indeed will reap The nightmare that we fear the most Comes back to haunt us like a ghost Like Peter Pan and Captain Hook Just a good story in a children’s book what if the earth gets bored of us And decides that we are entertainment those characters we read as kids Like Pinocchio or the 3 little pigs Sleeping beauty or the ogre Shrek You thought was funny as a sketch Brought to life would pose a threat Although to you this seems far fetched The truth Ive written has not been stretched I hope you read this and know as fact What you put out there will soon come back
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43
we must have different definitions of faith, cause your demonstration has left me a wraith wanting woes whaling in your soul. so why must i incurr these laments- no you don't understand! this whole time you had my heart in your hand. for which you were to protect and provide, but like a toy boomerang you threw me aside. untill u finish with your ken doll and want me to return, but not this time! now it is my turn! but i aint playing, i am throwing out the trash. and don't you dare expect me to come back! them over me? what were you bored? of all the years i chored? you know? Now i abhor the memories of taking you places, all the kind fallacies that i had to say cause you can't deal with reality. you have no decency. you've cause me so much pain. our relationship is a bike but you leave it in the rain. then you try to ride it, with the gears full of rust i guess trust is a word imma have to spell without "us".
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Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 8:22 PM UTC
Betrayal
You have these helium balloon pair of arms, that always tend to lift me up when I fall. You raised me as part slingshot and part boomerang and no matter how far I go in life I’ll still return home. You've taught me that we are all keys, and if I don't fit in then I wasn't made for what’s behind that door. Sometimes, I spend too long at some doors. And I break my edges trying to fit in, till I can never open the doors for which I was made anymore. Some days, your lessons are like the edges of a jigsaw puzzle, they’re the starting points to fix me when I’m a mess. Your smile reminds the super glued, ice sculpture in my chest what it feels like to be warm. I come from a long line of glass spines and barbwire teeth and my back was as bad as my bite. But you've taught me to carry the world on my shoulders and kiss Mary Jane on the cheeks. I see the Irony of the cobwebs on your letters. It’s not so funny when it’s on your head stone.
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Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 6:33 AM UTC
May Parker by Spiderman #truesupeerheroes
Touch me softly And run a feather From over my neck to my belly Then Up and down round and round Move your hands gently Over my boomerang And when you can’t hold it Anymore Move fast and slow Eye to eye Until our faces glow red and our hair is wet with sweat Crisscross, our legs like scissors
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Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 1:32 PM UTC
HOW TO MAKE LOVE TO ME
Accept my pity, ye tormented souls unable to raise and dazzle all I did was earn my keep and walked in sunshine from the soul but When men are full of envy they disparage everything, whether it be good or bad. Now I know some minds never grow and thrive only in envy For Envy, like the worm, never runs but to the fairest fruit; like a cunning bloodhound, it singles out the fattest deer in the flock. These wretched starved toxic souls, only see a man with plenty The flower which is single need not envy the thorns that are numerous. I did not countenance that faces are pale because they lacked just thought that was the Creator's work on days when brown and yellow, swarty, ivory and tan paints ran out I knew a lot hated this insipid opaque pale colouring, but at least they have beautiful hair and lucky ones have pearly white teeth but unbeknown to me, real envy resides in them and blinds them and makes it impossible for them to think clearly. Oh dearie me, our pale brothers and sisters die inside their souls And age so quickly, radiant in bloom one day, grey and wrinkled in the morrow like a wilted rose devoid of water and light Their pain and envy, their self-loathing, their insecurities ravages Let age, not envy, draw wrinkles on thy cheeks, dear friends. For you see, God's truth judges created things out of love, and Satan's truth judges them out of envy and hatred. Our envy always lasts longer than the happiness of those we envy. If malice or envy were tangible and had a shape, it would be the shape of a boomerang. I fear not and now understand why you envy and hate me I can appreciate the bile and venom for Fools may our scorn, not envy, raise. For envy is a kind of praise. Worth begets in base minds, envy; in great souls, emulation. When people envy someone else, they want what that person possesses. As time passes, they develop hostile feelings towards that person, and eventually begin to hate that person because of their possessions and the unrequited desire to obtain those possessions.
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Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 8:53 PM UTC
Green Eyes.........
Accept my pity, ye tormented souls unable to raise and dazzle all I did was earn my keep and walked in sunshine from the soul but When men are full of envy they disparage everything, whether it be good or bad. Now I know some minds never grow and thrive only in envy For Envy, like the worm, never runs but to the fairest fruit; like a cunning bloodhound, it singles out the fattest deer in the flock. These wretched starved toxic souls, only see a man with plenty The flower which is single need not envy the thorns that are numerous. I did not countenance that faces are pale because they lacked just thought that was the Creator's work on days when brown and yellow, swarty, ivory and tan paints ran out I knew a lot hated this insipid opaque pale colouring, but at least they have beautiful hair and lucky ones have pearly white teeth but unbeknown to me, real envy resides in them and blinds them and makes it impossible for them to think clearly. Oh dearie me, our pale brothers and sisters die inside their souls And age so quickly, radiant in bloom one day, grey and wrinkled in the morrow like a wilted rose devoid of water and light Their pain and envy, their self-loathing, their insecurities ravages Let age, not envy, draw wrinkles on thy cheeks, dear friends. For you see, God's truth judges created things out of love, and Satan's truth judges them out of envy and hatred. Our envy always lasts longer than the happiness of those we envy. If malice or envy were tangible and had a shape, it would be the shape of a boomerang. I fear not and now understand why you envy and hate me I can appreciate the bile and venom for Fools may our scorn, not envy, raise. For envy is a kind of praise. Worth begets in base minds, envy; in great souls, emulation. When people envy someone else, they want what that person possesses. As time passes, they develop hostile feelings towards that person, and eventually begin to hate that person because of their possessions and the unrequited desire to obtain those possessions.
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31
An airplane crashes into an uncharted island and hundreds of people die in the burning debris, and somewhere a group of boys and girls are taking selfies as they stand next to a burning office building. Thousands of teenagers sit on the couch and eat ice cream until the buttons on their pants explode off. Kids light themselves on fires as if they were monks from the Tiananmen Square, trying to gain acceptance, their dreams of stardom translated through a series of YouTube comments. We can't afford books for college because the tuition is ridiculous, but these glossy tabloid magazines are only a few bucks; pick one to set the course of your life. Middle-aged people spend their lives indoors, away from the thirsty, hungry, withering children, and check how many likes did their photos receive on their smartphones. Pornographic images in front of our tired faces, our eyes locked to the screen and we do not blink as our memories become embedded with objectification. So we don't look up and see the chaos transpiring. Cat memes and colorful gifs hold our attention while our parents slave away at their boomerang-shaped desks, trapped in clustered cubicles. I saw a post on Facebook of a girl who was sexually assaulted at a house party and now her name was being hashtagged and kids were posing in photographs, laying on the floor, legs and arms sprawled out, left and right, trying to mimic the injustice. We swipe right to find our future hookups, but what if our future husbands and wives were on the left?   Society spends millions of dollars on drinks to numb our conscience, until our brain cells are wretched like the homeless guy on the street corner drinking liquor from a coffee mug. Israel and Palestine battle each other day after day while our generation gossips about Solange Knowles beating up Jay-Z with her patent leather purse as if that news conquers every other bit of information out there. The world will always be corrupt, but it suffers more from the apathy that belongs to us.
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Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 7:56 PM UTC
Clean each cell with a rag
An airplane crashes into an uncharted island and hundreds of people die in the burning debris, and somewhere a group of boys and girls are taking selfies as they stand next to a burning office building. Thousands of teenagers sit on the couch and eat ice cream until the buttons on their pants explode off. Kids light themselves on fires as if they were monks from the Tiananmen Square, trying to gain acceptance, their dreams of stardom translated through a series of YouTube comments. We can't afford books for college because the tuition is ridiculous, but these glossy tabloid magazines are only a few bucks; pick one to set the course of your life. Middle-aged people spend their lives indoors, away from the thirsty, hungry, withering children, and check how many likes did their photos receive on their smartphones. Pornographic images in front of our tired faces, our eyes locked to the screen and we do not blink as our memories become embedded with objectification. So we don't look up and see the chaos transpiring. Cat memes and colorful gifs hold our attention while our parents slave away at their boomerang-shaped desks, trapped in clustered cubicles. I saw a post on Facebook of a girl who was sexually assaulted at a house party and now her name was being hashtagged and kids were posing in photographs, laying on the floor, legs and arms sprawled out, left and right, trying to mimic the injustice. We swipe right to find our future hookups, but what if our future husbands and wives were on the left?   Society spends millions of dollars on drinks to numb our conscience, until our brain cells are wretched like the homeless guy on the street corner drinking liquor from a coffee mug. Israel and Palestine battle each other day after day while our generation gossips about Solange Knowles beating up Jay-Z with her patent leather purse as if that news conquers every other bit of information out there. The world will always be corrupt, but it suffers more from the apathy that belongs to us.
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13
oooh! i say as the blade slices ouch! i say as the blood flows, and the scars grow. you cut to get rid of the pain but its just like a boomerang. you slice and heal, and slice and heal, never-ending moments of "this can't be real" oh its real.
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Sep 16, 2025
Sep 16, 2025 at 10:02 PM UTC
Untitled
I’ve recently developed a hypothesis It’s crazier than the idea of an atheist The truth is the hardest pill to swallow when it stings like a vaccination So I’m dealing with the fact that my love may be broken I’ve had a broken heart but those can be repaired With time, effort and divine intervention The fibers of the heart can be re-stitched together But my love – my ability to love – seems to be destructive When you care too much, you lose what you wanted most I wanted you; so I said so That worked like a poison, numbing your feelings for me My love is like a broken boomerang I throw it out with heartfelt emotions Hoping and waiting for your love in return But my love never comes back at all It doesn’t even come back as a letter ‘returned to sender’ It simply died when it was on its way Whether in your negligence or on the journey love take us on My love died like a single drop of water in the desert I wish I could figure out the enigma of love and the defect mine seems to have My love is broken like a bird without her wings Grounded against her nature and denied to possibilities of true life My love is withering in my own heart – you can only love yourself so much I was ready to give you all I am But somewhere along the way I feel like my love is not only broken… I tried another time to love another soul My broken love had a heart attack and died in route to the grave It wasn’t taken to a hospital because my love was a lost cause Something unworthy of its name; love My love was never seen as love by any other being It was seen as infatuations or crushes that crushed life out of attraction So now that my love is dead, what do I have to offer the world? We all respond to lost love in our own way I would fight until I had no breath or strength – then again Maybe it’s not my love you need, or even want That’s the trouble with loving you I overstep, overlook and over-wish My love was just too strong for it’s own good Now I weep in the arctic for the faithless cruelty An arctic that I call summer from the frozen tundra of my heart Hell has frozen over – hell has become my heart
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Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 7:40 PM UTC
Hypothesis of My Broken Love
I’ve recently developed a hypothesis It’s crazier than the idea of an atheist The truth is the hardest pill to swallow when it stings like a vaccination So I’m dealing with the fact that my love may be broken I’ve had a broken heart but those can be repaired With time, effort and divine intervention The fibers of the heart can be re-stitched together But my love – my ability to love – seems to be destructive When you care too much, you lose what you wanted most I wanted you; so I said so That worked like a poison, numbing your feelings for me My love is like a broken boomerang I throw it out with heartfelt emotions Hoping and waiting for your love in return But my love never comes back at all It doesn’t even come back as a letter ‘returned to sender’ It simply died when it was on its way Whether in your negligence or on the journey love take us on My love died like a single drop of water in the desert I wish I could figure out the enigma of love and the defect mine seems to have My love is broken like a bird without her wings Grounded against her nature and denied to possibilities of true life My love is withering in my own heart – you can only love yourself so much I was ready to give you all I am But somewhere along the way I feel like my love is not only broken… I tried another time to love another soul My broken love had a heart attack and died in route to the grave It wasn’t taken to a hospital because my love was a lost cause Something unworthy of its name; love My love was never seen as love by any other being It was seen as infatuations or crushes that crushed life out of attraction So now that my love is dead, what do I have to offer the world? We all respond to lost love in our own way I would fight until I had no breath or strength – then again Maybe it’s not my love you need, or even want That’s the trouble with loving you I overstep, overlook and over-wish My love was just too strong for it’s own good Now I weep in the arctic for the faithless cruelty An arctic that I call summer from the frozen tundra of my heart Hell has frozen over – hell has become my heart
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41
Trying to breathe, TRYING TO BREATHE into the woods. An old woman in a furry hat & I, laughing together still somewhat lifelike. Ever too proud to play boomerang or go fetch for change FOR CHANGE we live out of bags. Exactly where we're meant to be & 'how you say?' ...all that jazz." --shoo.shu #doubleentendres #poetry #spilledink #inthenow #inthemoment #underdog #homeless #boho #bohemian #wanderlust #gypsy #nomad
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Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 4:47 PM UTC
Trying to breathe...
it's hard enough to shake yer bones awake and get into the game and that name, Monday, one day gone day, try and get your mojo on day Monday plays like an old fashioned song scratchy on the gramaphone's trying to make you shake yer bones I am just a bag of bones ready for the stewing *** what's Monday got that I can't see what does Monday do for me It's full of dinosaurs and boring old men I need the 'magic boomerang' the one that makes the time stand still then I'd wind back the clock until it was Saturday night The problem is this, no one remembers the TV show on Australian networks from so long ago I do though and 'I don't like Mondays' Oh boomtown rats? Don't remember a bomb that never had a boom or a rat in a town that never found room to chew on a Monday dinosaurs gave Monday a bad name.
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Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 2:31 AM UTC
Dinosaurs gave Monday a bad name
You are the sunrise that illuminates the twisted roads ahead. The photocopier that seems to do what you didn’t want it to. The branch that sways precariously in the wind. The clock that stops, starts, stops, starts. The froth that dangles a little too far over the side of my cup. The peach that contains a solid stone under the façade. The book that always ends with unanswered questions. The confetti that looks glorious but doesn't stay for long. The nosebleed that stains my pillow at night. The boomerang that flew off in the distance, yet to return.
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Mar 7, 2012
Mar 7, 2012 at 10:07 AM UTC
Ginger Girl
By CAConrad we stopped      studying the          night sky for             directions     if someone said       we made it up         planet Earth           isn’t real            we would try             to verify try              to be sure              critics               are the                evidence                 we do not                  trust ourselves                  your imagination is            asking for parole         what is your verdict Warden   try to always     remember the       calendar made         of light our           ancestors          followed to        pass the year
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Jun 17, 2023
Jun 17, 2023 at 2:58 PM UTC
‘Listen to the Golden Boomerang Return’ by CAConrad
Court of owls New ink, new shoes Clocks on, I'm about to run it Fast as my pain's Timeframe, bout to gun it I hope you feel something better my man, ***I'm feeling something I'm feeling something better than planned*** Tuck in the winter, dam i fall into action springing past Morty and summer While I'm watching TV slumber shaking off chains of reactions is it a new start call it innov8ing or maybe to our past Definistrating memories,  atoms alternating like the world sputters aspirating Spit split straight portals compensating I'm drunk on Dark matter ever oscillating the wind turned to me just so it could turn on me Judgment for eternity Experience is the same it howled with certainty MY Experience denied 3x so now you hear me? from this judgment I'm always ripping free I don't generate art so you can whip at me I might penetrate stars The universe is an artist so Why does it  ****** us Aint the universe ever even heard of us? I'm the passenger and still woozy the sickness feeling the pressure but I gotta be a witness compassionate, no judgment we all have our reasons ~Got a spot that I  keep w33d in Hidden with the green stem bleedin we may have different heavens but we come from the same soil When others decide our emotions Got so many reasons for defense, reach out and tipped it for the deflect emotions reflect the deficit of me breathe I just shake my head so heavy, I need rest Court of owls Port of vowels I am Born of miles So I adult when you consult the Occult knowings the lotion but still decomposin all this is music I just need to recompose it Saved another life Now the reaper owes it I think I've got amnesia, Waking up to Sir you had a seizure Eyes always look like Man...I wouldn't wanna be ya Empathy is another form of slavery we sign up for We live and we learn Boomerang on the mic I go and return But its not just about living well its about knowing the root of life its Taking the threads in your hands to rack the rains and crack the chains Caught in the dream, my ego forgets Sleep is such a shy death ***Court of owls Port of vowels I am Born of miles in the Korn of howls***
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May 4, 2022
May 4, 2022 at 12:33 AM UTC
~Quicq Hooqs~
Court of owls New ink, new shoes Clocks on, I'm about to run it Fast as my pain's Timeframe, bout to gun it I hope you feel something better my man, ***I'm feeling something I'm feeling something better than planned*** Tuck in the winter, dam i fall into action springing past Morty and summer While I'm watching TV slumber shaking off chains of reactions is it a new start call it innov8ing or maybe to our past Definistrating memories,  atoms alternating like the world sputters aspirating Spit split straight portals compensating I'm drunk on Dark matter ever oscillating the wind turned to me just so it could turn on me Judgment for eternity Experience is the same it howled with certainty MY Experience denied 3x so now you hear me? from this judgment I'm always ripping free I don't generate art so you can whip at me I might penetrate stars The universe is an artist so Why does it  ****** us Aint the universe ever even heard of us? I'm the passenger and still woozy the sickness feeling the pressure but I gotta be a witness compassionate, no judgment we all have our reasons ~Got a spot that I  keep w33d in Hidden with the green stem bleedin we may have different heavens but we come from the same soil When others decide our emotions Got so many reasons for defense, reach out and tipped it for the deflect emotions reflect the deficit of me breathe I just shake my head so heavy, I need rest Court of owls Port of vowels I am Born of miles So I adult when you consult the Occult knowings the lotion but still decomposin all this is music I just need to recompose it Saved another life Now the reaper owes it I think I've got amnesia, Waking up to Sir you had a seizure Eyes always look like Man...I wouldn't wanna be ya Empathy is another form of slavery we sign up for We live and we learn Boomerang on the mic I go and return But its not just about living well its about knowing the root of life its Taking the threads in your hands to rack the rains and crack the chains Caught in the dream, my ego forgets Sleep is such a shy death ***Court of owls Port of vowels I am Born of miles in the Korn of howls***
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Pity you didn’t stay away Shame you came and didn’t stay Pain, a boomerang, it goes both ways You’re gonna have to learn today I told you to run Away from the sun Pity you had to lose it all Shame no one picked up your call Painful desire to drop the ball You’re gonna have to take the fall I told you to run I’m not the one Pity you didn’t fear the flames Shame you hadn’t learned my name Paintings of every life I’ve claimed You’re gonna have to lose this game I told you to run A girl is a gun - A Girl Is A Gun by Ines Rose is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
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Dec 28, 2017
Dec 28, 2017 at 10:34 PM UTC
A Girl Is A Gun
Zip code 99123 Worst school systems Boomerang effect I know it truly is awful It is the land of hopelessness It sure as hell isn't The Promised Land But blue skies Grey clouds Hot summers Frozen winters Secrets Community Love Lies Jealousy Complete bliss Tied in with a blanket of anguish Settled like dust Those who live here Those who leave here Those who always return here Remember Forget Either way you can't change The history of our hearts It can be hellish It can be worthless And true, there is absolutely nothing going for anyone here But it will always be my hometown Electric City Zip code 99123 Just above the ****** dam Because my home Is where my memories Of lessons learned lies
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Jun 18, 2016
Jun 18, 2016 at 1:17 PM UTC
Electric City
when first words were exchanged innocuous attempts to remove shirts in the balmy summer heat I was fallen snow, legs frozen my mouth spoke in metallic red and said, in my darkest nights, it's always your smile I see it has always been your smile and your countenance in blissful dreams that delight your essence fills the darkest voids in both heart and mind I am brightened by your existence you alone have made me shine when my fire faded entirely a thousand years ago I swear we soared through starry night skies and kissed on beaches before creation with fingers laced before bodies even existed (though, I am ever so grateful for yours) my eyes gave everything because you are a boomerang of reciprocity so see me as foolish or naive explore my newly found optimism because I now see colour in our world as never before tease and laugh and enjoy time with me it it yours and I exist for you
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Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 12:29 PM UTC
Overfill
The lines you roared The people you urged The crimes you saw Crimson tridents on the road So close to unleash the beast Tempt me again, then regret Or put complete blame on me Ever felt wisdom with pride? Difference between me and you I reckon violence will boomerang Naturally or artificially, you don't Count the debts you'll face in hell
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Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 6:53 AM UTC
Tempting Violence