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Seanathon Jul 2016
You see this building? I built this building. But nobody knows that I built this building.

I can only assert that I did build this building, and refresh my own memory of building said building.

But at the end of the day, it's just an old building. And ironically enough, I've never stopped building.

There are a few other people who helped build this building. Like myself they can say that they did build this building.

And even if all of our name were there on an engraving, it would never truly be anyone's personal building.

Because we built it for those, so that they could start building. So that they could get going and build their buildings.

Because the framework we built was a structure of learning. And we each taught ourselves through the process of learning.
It's true.... :D
Umi Mar 2018
Urges through the night, a blade dancing with its mistress, discarding what has summoned up in her way alike a ****** crazed devotion,
Scarlet tears make their way down her cheek, washing the sand off as the pillars around begin to collapse alike cards one by one at the time,
Phantoms rage as a pure flower appears to commence blooming,
The warped moon embraces the shadows of such fools as it rises,
Actions with not much meaning seek their rampage as the battle field becomes frail and soulless through this sleepless night of lunacy,
When the flood of realisation arrives she will be swept away unlike the wise who make a more solid, stadfast decision. How trecious,
Does she want to take a dance with this cruel world she rampages on, are her ideals fitting for this battle she is about to win for now,
Drenched in blood and impurities of her work, her mind remains pure, innocent, not even sweating one thought to the consequences,
Mercy nor compassion are unlikely to be granted in this darkening realm, not to her dancing knife or her lunatic ****** devotion,
Time is moving, as she sacrafices her soul for her actions,
Taking another dance in this distorted dark

~ Umi
Tommy Randell Apr 2015
This is the house that ego built

This is the mind all callused and worn
Its ethical basis tattered and torn
That sits in the house that ego built

This is the heart exposed for your scorn
That believes it is right and can do no wrong
That governs the mind
That lives in the house that ego built

This is the lifeblood of laughter and fun
That flows through the flesh that clings to the bones
That cages the heart that governs the mind
That dreams in the house that ego built

This is the stomach ulcerated with guilt
That feeds on the justice of a knife ****** to the hilt
Into the innards of turmoil and bile
That brings queasy reality into a mind
That rots in the house that ego built

This is the skeleton of upright intent
Its bones a geometry and rosary of ailments
That scaffolds a life of sheer ****** mindedness
That never quite does what the mind intends
In this ruin of a house that ego built

This is the skin that keeps it all in
That brings order and calm to the chaos within
Though it wrinkles with age, transparent and worn
A castle of walls, a house not a home, that ego built

And these are the eyes unfocused and white
Their cataract curtains dimming the light
On the ghosts and the memories wandering inside
What's left of the house that ego built

Man becomes man, life becomes life
A notorious continuance without rest or respite
Bricks become clay, clay becomes dust
Where now is the house that ego built?

Where is the mind, where has it gone
The purpose and promise of which it was born
The ego that dreamed of a house to be built?

These thoughts are the dust of all that was willed.
Farrell Nov 2018
the world
the planets
the stars
the universe
were all built on dreams
sophie mechaune Oct 2018
you told me you loved me
and I still believe you told the truth
but when I couldn't stand under
what had used to be our solid roof
you retreated from our bond
like what we had built was
simply and solely
meant for our youth

now I know your love was one kind
when mine was faintly another
in essence they did appear alike
only one pulled back and the other
clenched harder

but never will I devalue
the very fabric of your being
nor your heart, nor your experience
nor the most dizzying of your feelings

you made the choice to push me away
so your mind could have enough
time to relay
healing over heartbreak,
leaving me awake
to blindly find how to be okay
when I expected to see you today
in a different way, but I hoped
it would somehow be the same

eventually okay is what I became
and our mismatched loves
breathe on anyway
and I will continue to say
I am thankful for our story
with all its dips and sways
it is our intricate, impassioned play
and I promise, I pray
your place,
your space
in my heart will
stay

maybe we'll build again one day
for jnd
Helena B Mar 7
I built us a house in my mind
Imagine us sitting by the fire and looking into each others eyes
Like a cheesy romantic scene from a 50s movie
I swoon over you and let you consume my whole world
But life is not a romantic comedy
And the fairytale ending I created for us shattered
When you told me you didn't love me like that
Anymore

I'm on my knees
Trying to pick up the pieces and I cut my hands but I still try and put us back together

A screen hums
And I turn to see it playing back all the times you made me smile
And of us laying down on a dock, listening to a song that reminded me of you, and staring at the stars deciding which one we would call ours
And of me listening to your heart beating as you slept and feeling like I could never love anyone like I loved you again.

The hardest part of getting over you is the remembering
I want to remember the bad things
Like the first time you made me cry
I want to remember why I left you in the first place
And why didn't you try to fight for us

And I sat there and squeezed my head with my hands and screamed
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME? WHY CAN'T I FORGET YOU? WHY DO I STILL LOVE YOU?"
As you turn to you leave
I catch a glimpse of your face
It was as if a switch turned off in your head, it was soulless
I feel a tug at my neck as you walk away with a rope in your hand
Oblivious to where that rope ends.
Alice Baker Jan 2016
I am a canvas
Painted in harsh strokes
With kind words
Mistakes blend in
Over time and diligence
But are never erased
They sit quietly
Under layers of oil paint
Built into my foundation
~

I am
Unpoetic, for
Isolation built from self-paved
Solitude has wilted my writing's
Possibility for sweetness
And sugar-faked beauty,
But poetry is crazed
For a taste of
Vast feelings,
So here
I am-


~
All feedback is welcome
Jose Valle Jun 3
I built a Greek column
A Tuscan column to be precise
It's about three floors in height

I used materials I didn't know I owned
Shimmering and glistening small white oval pebbles
Flat and fat ones
Sand, best of its kind
Limestone with all its magical properties
And Nautilus shells from the beaches of Callao.

I wish I have built it for looks only
But I did it for me
It fits well between my neck and naval line
For when my earthquakes threaten my core
Mimi Hachiko Jul 8
You can't ask them to stay
You had hoped they may
But you can't be surprised
This path was not advised
You'll walk it anyhow
For the here and now
Doesn't meet your needs
You wander through the weeds
And wonder where it leads
You begin to concede
That this just might be
A path built for one
Luna Jay Mar 27
No government,
No harsh intent-
Rock hard words
Become intimate.
No authority,
No center of peace-
No hate,
No mistakes,
No ******,
No ****.
No inequalities-
No more mouths to feed…
And it sounds like a joke
When I think of
The world as perfect.
Is it even worth it
If it’s not built to last?
Obadiah Grey Jun 2013
I built me a yellowish
statue of you
out of last nights curry
and the cheese fondue.

Your *** was madras
your **** vindaloo
and stilton is what
yer built on.

WHOOP DE FUKIN DOO !!!!!,
Justin Apr 2014
The water you drink has been poisoned,
The air you breath is corrupt,
The cities we nest in will crumble,
The end is near and abrupt.

Let your feet carry you to a much safer place,
Far from the idols we built,
We ***** and burned all her children,
And now there is blood to be spilt.

We trampled on the toils of her lifetime,
Molested the gifts that she'd grown,
From her ashes we built up our kingdom,
Let our kings sit upon her throne.

And now is her time to come calling,
And now it is our turn to run,
The cities we built are all falling,
The end of mankind has come.
Daan Vandelay Oct 2013
build it, brick by brick and if a brick
was built with wrong instructions,
throw the brick away and create a
new one. Put it next to the first one.

Stop, destroy the wall you've made.
Just talk to her, stupid.
( the last wall I've built is still there,
denying acces to a part of my life,
the life I could have been living. )

- I wish I hadn't read this one again. (2019 edit)
Busted! Caught again
In a battle for your brain
Oh please, don't pretend

The nights! And the scares
Guilt built up inside your skull
Oh please, let it end

Curled, crying lies
Awake! Inside his eyes, glossed
In a withered glow

Oh! It asks as he
Blends into his wallpaper:
"Oh please, where'd you go?"

~Humanity, I don't know~
Ira Desmond Nov 2018
The downward momentum is clear to me now.
The engine has built up a full head of steam.
I’d try to stop it, if I knew how.

The fires of industry must burn on somehow;
they tend to burn brightest when fuel is extreme.
The downward momentum is clear to me now.

When currents are surging, we shouldn’t allow
the jingoist fringe to swim in the mainstream.
I’d try to stop them, if I knew how.

Civility means more than I can avow,
but poems can only allude to a theme:
The downward momentum is clear to me now.

Each click of a mouse that shouts holier than thou
is a cog in a treacherous clockmaker’s scheme.
I’d try to stop him, if I knew how.

We worshipped the circuit and forsook the plow
in search of a false technological dream.
Our downward momentum is clear to me now.
I’d try to stop us, if I knew how.
Jack Jenkins Jul 2016
Love is rarely ever found, (I found you)
Instead,
Love is built. (We've built so much)
Built with a solid foundation,
Built with a design in mind,
Built with strong materials,
Love is built with hard work. (Sweat and sacrifice)
with willingness to sacrifice,
to be hurt.
Upholding one another
at our worsts. (Our hearts are strong enough)

Love isn't taken, but grown, (We've grown together)
Starting as a seed.
Nurtured in the rains
and sunlight
of life.
Roots strong enough not
to be uprooted by fiends. (I'll never leave you)
Delicate and tenderly, slow and steady.
Flourishing branches (We have flourished)
upholding the weight of grown love. (We've grown together)
//On her//
If you know the meaning of the title, hat tip to you. ;)
Francesco Bianco and his Wage-Stock Men,
In keeping current with their Rooting Age
Built his Charity on a Stone-House then
As Leisure played a better word for Rage
Not much for Surplus Capital enjoyed
At least for some Tips won by droplets fall
That petty, really. Plus some Papers browsed
For those Picklings shared by survey and toll
Yes, the Compliment of those Blue-Bloods past
Of only their Musk to commensurate
Eve bowed out; Abel only if Forecast
By Cain and his Friends allowed him too late.
You would wonder how such Time could afford
And invest your Years for such brisk Concord.
Becca Lansman May 2017
Give it back.
I did not build myself from paper mache only to wooed by a man undeserving of everything that makes me powerful.
I know I should not cry.
God—I know I should not ******* cry.
You are undeserving of the ocean that swells inside me— I will not spill for you.
I will not let you lick up the salt.
You have taken enough. Built this storm inside my chest only for it wrap itself around my lungs.
To the **** boy that stole my heart and threw it in the garbage as if it was leftovers: I am still searching through plastic bottles and used tissues.  
Trying to dust myself off
but i am still  the **** of your sick joke. The ***** newspaper. Yesterdays comic.
“Just another *** that wants your ****.” They scoff. As if I am nothing more than a carcass.

Burn me to ashes. Dust to dust.

Hollow me out. Chop off my *******. **** everything beautiful out of me until I am a shell of a woman. Sticking pins and needles in myself to keep from falling apart.
Wipe your feet on me. Twirl my hair in your fingers. Grab my ***. Anything. This is your world. Choke the feminist right out of me.

I’ll scream your name.

To the **** boy that stole my heart: I hope you fall in love with a powerful woman.  A woman who demands the respect I never could.
T R S Jul 2018
Goodnight my lovely deary
Living, lively, love I'll kiss your head

Good my soul so dearly
Lap my life and make me less dead

Good God my soul, so nearly
Leave a legend of life-built beds...

Goodbye my only, barely
Made a bed of dead straw and heads.
Cindra Carr Jun 2011
The blood loses its grip as the dreams of fire flow closer.
Alain’s face fills the gap my heart created with her dying breath.
I’ve lost hope more often than I’ve kept count.
Each moment slipped her away.
Every stranger’s touch faded the fresh memory of her breath upon my cheek.

Her heart was mine to the last moment.
Her blood pumped away wetting the field of battle.
I dreaded each day I woke knowing she was gone.
Time would not heal my wound.
It scarred and built numb spots of deadness.
It made it harder to feel.

I will see her.
I will touch her face in wonderment.
I will kiss the corners of her smile.
May the Mother help me.
Alain is waiting.
And I am looking for her.

cc2011
Jordan Rowan Nov 2015
Deep beside the bedside light
Eyes red and dead sleep to fight
There's a country song on the radio
And it's one I heard long ago
She sang it once on the way to the north
And she always moved back and forth

She fell for a starry eyed guy
Yet he never learned to cry
He built his life away from her
And she chased his allure
All across the countryside
He made her cry
And as she would cry to me
I built a love no one could see

Sometimes, as the night falls in
And the paranoia begins
She'll send me thoughts of pain
To pour them down my drain
And when I give her all I have
All I have and all I am
She falls asleep by dreams
That I have made and he will breathe
cait-cait Oct 2018
i didnt fall in love with this boy,
not this one
                     who tore me to pieces,

and i feel like an angel ,
suffocated in white, my wings were clipped
on the first day you
                                  wanted to kiss me,

and it feels violent,
disgusting,
my halo wasn’t built just to break —

and i did not forgive you,
i never will .

because you were never meant to go to heaven.
It’s so funny I’m not even religious, I just love religion. Ever since I was a child I’ve used it to cope. The title is lyrics from a really dumb song.
Negra Jan 2016
You made me
And that idea baffles me all the time
Because you didn't make me at all.
Well it's arguable that your absence made some of me
But there's millions of people who aren't in my life too.
Has my absence made some of you?
The first time I was with you,
Half of me was swimming to my moms egg,
When we were together for the second time
I noticed I had built you up
I only knew the biology of our connection
It made me realize how disconnected we were.
We weren't that tall and still aren't.
Without you I am nothing
But without you I've been many things.
I'll meet you again sometime.
There's still time to grow.
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