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"callousness" poems
i you say i am honestly not the same person i say one day i woke up honest and i do not know how to undo experience my own eyes and ears and nose and mouth cannot be undone at the moment how do you do it? push that pressure to the back of your mind like that how do you all manage to laugh with a straight face at things that you know aren't really funny i can't fathom it. where you go when you are stomping and ripping and ****** and jeering and laughing and running it's exhausting to watch you ii i apologize if it doesn't make sense that i can't play along but playing along doesn't make sense i could never win a grammy with this tight lipped smile laughing at the expense of others makes me feel more like a paparazzi placating insecurities for currency leeching off the vulnerability you may not think i'm smart but i am smart enough to know this is not 'normal' and there is nothing wrong with staring at you in the rearview and saying "i wish that was really sarcasm" i'll tell you the truth and you don't have to like it and you don't have to like me and i don't have to like you because if there's one thing i know about myself it's that i don't dislike anybody until they show off their callousness hoping it's the right party trick to gain respect iii we watch comedy tv, and you are worried by the way my spine cracks when i let out a uncontrollable laugh dragging on, beginning to spill, and as i try to quell it my whole body shakes with the pressure of it bubbling inside of me you feel all of this beside of me a small volcano with a bent back quaking absorbed by pillows and flowers and cushions not quite right for you wondering why i couldn't laugh like this earlier when we were not alone everyone is looking for something more porous more willing to let in effortlessly and absorb tirelessly that can simply laugh like a stream bubbles and let go of the undercurrent yet we are sharp and uneven and course like logs and the weight of our actions carries much further being shunted downstream by tides of gravity every intention runs it's course every intention speaks volumes if you feel that in your core every day you will uncontrollably think of how every intention defines the quality of the laughter stuck in someone else's head and you will save it for things that are funny
0
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 4:26 AM UTC
honesty, paparazzi, volcanoes, undercurrents
i you say i am honestly not the same person i say one day i woke up honest and i do not know how to undo experience my own eyes and ears and nose and mouth cannot be undone at the moment how do you do it? push that pressure to the back of your mind like that how do you all manage to laugh with a straight face at things that you know aren't really funny i can't fathom it. where you go when you are stomping and ripping and ****** and jeering and laughing and running it's exhausting to watch you ii i apologize if it doesn't make sense that i can't play along but playing along doesn't make sense i could never win a grammy with this tight lipped smile laughing at the expense of others makes me feel more like a paparazzi placating insecurities for currency leeching off the vulnerability you may not think i'm smart but i am smart enough to know this is not 'normal' and there is nothing wrong with staring at you in the rearview and saying "i wish that was really sarcasm" i'll tell you the truth and you don't have to like it and you don't have to like me and i don't have to like you because if there's one thing i know about myself it's that i don't dislike anybody until they show off their callousness hoping it's the right party trick to gain respect iii we watch comedy tv, and you are worried by the way my spine cracks when i let out a uncontrollable laugh dragging on, beginning to spill, and as i try to quell it my whole body shakes with the pressure of it bubbling inside of me you feel all of this beside of me a small volcano with a bent back quaking absorbed by pillows and flowers and cushions not quite right for you wondering why i couldn't laugh like this earlier when we were not alone everyone is looking for something more porous more willing to let in effortlessly and absorb tirelessly that can simply laugh like a stream bubbles and let go of the undercurrent yet we are sharp and uneven and course like logs and the weight of our actions carries much further being shunted downstream by tides of gravity every intention runs it's course every intention speaks volumes if you feel that in your core every day you will uncontrollably think of how every intention defines the quality of the laughter stuck in someone else's head and you will save it for things that are funny
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68
* *In the terrain of a barren forest In the forlorn of a lost ship In the godforsaken-ness of fate In the inhospitality of people Either sides of the dunes There walks Majnun, in rugged clothes There sings Meera, in wedded bliss Both - immersed in the dreams of LOVEz Both delicate, both innocent Both pure, both true Both fresh - like budding blooms Both living in harmony with Nature Waiting for Krishna's and Layla's arrival Knowing their BELOVEDz will come Both - still intoxicated in LOVE Half closed, drowsy eyes, Blurred vision, drunkard steps They walk, dance, sing and fall Awaiting their LOVERz call Don't show complete callousness Do not wake these LOVERz at all From their disconsolate state of being Let a dust-storm or lash of rain Shake their heart and being As if Krishna and Layla Have shaken their soul awake Startled at the LOVER'z touch Meera and Majnun look around, Astonished & glancing everywhere Searching to find their LOVERz "Where is Krishna? Where is Layla?" They run wild - deliriously mad Until they find a mirage & a silhouette In the blank space of air around them There they rest - sit and talk They laugh and chat in LOVE Only we realize and know that There is no one around them Yet only they can see their LOVERz Only they can feel their BELOVEDz To play a colorful game of LOVE Let Krishna give Meera a kiss Let Meera twirl one more round Let Layla peck Majnun cheeks Let Majnun sing one more new ballad Thus till date they are remembered As tragedy folk-lore's LOVE Our tragic LOVERz-BELOVEDz Our Meera-Majnun All these happens on Either sides of the dunes* *
0
Jul 25, 2019
Jul 25, 2019 at 11:58 PM UTC
Either Sides Of The Dunes
* *In the terrain of a barren forest In the forlorn of a lost ship In the godforsaken-ness of fate In the inhospitality of people Either sides of the dunes There walks Majnun, in rugged clothes There sings Meera, in wedded bliss Both - immersed in the dreams of LOVEz Both delicate, both innocent Both pure, both true Both fresh - like budding blooms Both living in harmony with Nature Waiting for Krishna's and Layla's arrival Knowing their BELOVEDz will come Both - still intoxicated in LOVE Half closed, drowsy eyes, Blurred vision, drunkard steps They walk, dance, sing and fall Awaiting their LOVERz call Don't show complete callousness Do not wake these LOVERz at all From their disconsolate state of being Let a dust-storm or lash of rain Shake their heart and being As if Krishna and Layla Have shaken their soul awake Startled at the LOVER'z touch Meera and Majnun look around, Astonished & glancing everywhere Searching to find their LOVERz "Where is Krishna? Where is Layla?" They run wild - deliriously mad Until they find a mirage & a silhouette In the blank space of air around them There they rest - sit and talk They laugh and chat in LOVE Only we realize and know that There is no one around them Yet only they can see their LOVERz Only they can feel their BELOVEDz To play a colorful game of LOVE Let Krishna give Meera a kiss Let Meera twirl one more round Let Layla peck Majnun cheeks Let Majnun sing one more new ballad Thus till date they are remembered As tragedy folk-lore's LOVE Our tragic LOVERz-BELOVEDz Our Meera-Majnun All these happens on Either sides of the dunes* *
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53
A SOCIETY WRITTEN IN FLAMES; SHROUDED IN DARKNESS *The tears flows in an endless way Bemoaning the days of yore Watching with eyes that sparks red, Sunken and beaten from the tragedies of yore Helpless and wishing for a relentless call As tragedy hits her most sensitive part, Bemoaning the tides, All her days of glory, Now a shadowy story* *She had been ***** by her very own, The children she yearned and bled for, The men she fed and trained, Where her rain fell full and vast, to soothe their hearts Where she gave it all, and smiled, hoping that someday, they will realize her sacrifices and sleepless nights, Her nights of terror and horrors Where she stood in the midst of the stormy eerie night, shrouded in darkness* *It was her ******* they ****** and clunged to, It was her arms that shielded them from the shadows of the dark, But when they grew and flew, She waited still Praying and wishing they would remember the days of yore* *Then the dark hour rolled away, And when morning came, it was harrowing. It was harrowing how she waited abandoned and dejected, As her sons and daughters peaked at the sky, Trampling her down, Relegating and belittling her Painful it were, as she cried from the agonies of the days of yore, Where she laid all her virtues down, Giving it all to see her children smile,* *It is this dejection that has brought her to tears, It is this wickedness of a child to a mother, that has made her weep endlessly It is this tragedy that have swallowed her glory, As her children keeps flying above huddles, in peace and harmony, Forgetting her, It is this callousness, that pushed them to sapping her virtues and enriching themselves with it thereon* *What is worse than a child abandoning his mother? It is this penchant, that drives them It is the love of greed, It is the seed of corruption, It is not an inherited trait, It is a despicable decision Like a monstrous shadow, Twirling the back of the night. It is the fire that burns within their heart, The fire to **** steal and destroy To take what she can never give again To live, To live big at the expenses of others sorrow and agony It is this evil that has perused Nigeria and has rendered her a roaming wretch And now tragedy looms, It booms and blooms,* A society written in flames Who will save MOTHER NIGERIA? Ovi Odiete© 2016, Oct. 31 All rights reserved Note Children here signifies the evil politicians and men that has sapped our country dry with their evil penchant
0
Oct 31, 2016
Oct 31, 2016 at 7:03 AM UTC
"~~Nigeria-Written in Flames~~"
A SOCIETY WRITTEN IN FLAMES; SHROUDED IN DARKNESS *The tears flows in an endless way Bemoaning the days of yore Watching with eyes that sparks red, Sunken and beaten from the tragedies of yore Helpless and wishing for a relentless call As tragedy hits her most sensitive part, Bemoaning the tides, All her days of glory, Now a shadowy story* *She had been ***** by her very own, The children she yearned and bled for, The men she fed and trained, Where her rain fell full and vast, to soothe their hearts Where she gave it all, and smiled, hoping that someday, they will realize her sacrifices and sleepless nights, Her nights of terror and horrors Where she stood in the midst of the stormy eerie night, shrouded in darkness* *It was her ******* they ****** and clunged to, It was her arms that shielded them from the shadows of the dark, But when they grew and flew, She waited still Praying and wishing they would remember the days of yore* *Then the dark hour rolled away, And when morning came, it was harrowing. It was harrowing how she waited abandoned and dejected, As her sons and daughters peaked at the sky, Trampling her down, Relegating and belittling her Painful it were, as she cried from the agonies of the days of yore, Where she laid all her virtues down, Giving it all to see her children smile,* *It is this dejection that has brought her to tears, It is this wickedness of a child to a mother, that has made her weep endlessly It is this tragedy that have swallowed her glory, As her children keeps flying above huddles, in peace and harmony, Forgetting her, It is this callousness, that pushed them to sapping her virtues and enriching themselves with it thereon* *What is worse than a child abandoning his mother? It is this penchant, that drives them It is the love of greed, It is the seed of corruption, It is not an inherited trait, It is a despicable decision Like a monstrous shadow, Twirling the back of the night. It is the fire that burns within their heart, The fire to **** steal and destroy To take what she can never give again To live, To live big at the expenses of others sorrow and agony It is this evil that has perused Nigeria and has rendered her a roaming wretch And now tragedy looms, It booms and blooms,* A society written in flames Who will save MOTHER NIGERIA? Ovi Odiete© 2016, Oct. 31 All rights reserved Note Children here signifies the evil politicians and men that has sapped our country dry with their evil penchant
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59
and then i am left, at the upmarket stretch of sand straddling this most unremarkable state, quietly flicking my thumb against the blue lighter. but it's too windy, at the water's edge in an unremarkable state, where no one recognizes me, that bagpipes start playing the wind acts against my fingers, they are too delicate, too feminine, no callousness ever affixed to these, my ten silken extremities.
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Nov 5, 2010
Nov 5, 2010 at 8:17 PM UTC
automatic writing at mango mike's
Listen to the slivering  paths of the Autumn breeze The coming velvety skies drenched in ink reflecting silver stars Wave goodbyes to the elusive flawed brown stone with pensive eyes A heart will gasp years ahead for callousness past shown now in tears Remember those golden sunsets for now woeful days are never azure Watery eyes and wrinkled mask lament a time you could have shared A King's ransom at your feet twined with an  honest heart assured Hear the whisperings of the mockingbirds and muted cold choruses Rainbow starlights betrays pots of gold hidden never to be found Maidens dance retro and the harpist pluck for painters with brushes By sunkissed shores blends of contrasts joyous in customary ponds Smiles pure from honeyed caves same when as waxed spears plunges Save me a place in the delights of Troy and tell Helen to send a sound Bring me home to peace and love, rescue me from lions in golden cages [email protected].
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Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 11:09 PM UTC
Always Clear Skies and Minds.....
dust has collected in this once filled room of my mine it's floated and settled on the last few things left behind spellbind windchime now i can say this empty space is all mine 8 years of pacing this room 8 years of shouting at the moon 8 years of sleeping til noon just to ignore the fact I meant nothing to you so much anger has made home in my bones the way you used to speak about me felt like being casted with stones I used to try and drown out your tasteless, colorless tone you type "she's dramatic" in a text on your phone I expected this feeling of indifference to feel free with no stop lights yet this empty space and this empty mind coincide with what I've known this whole time that all too familiar feeling of restlessness has come to an end and even though there are still memories burned into my head I don't believe I have anything else left unsaid I envied your callousness I despised your self-righteousness and i ached at your lack of consequence what caught your eye was never my elegance but rather my callowness as the ice in your drink swirls and melts and you're blaming me besides everyone else as your anger starts to swell just remember it was me who wasn't treated well we can keep our heads down while our eyes meet on the street while you pretend I don't resemble meadowsweet and that we never danced in my kitchen with me on your feet but to be honest in the end we were always offbeat when you chose to secede I found you to not be an aesthete if you could agree to be without me this story is begging to no longer be told so maybe I'll revisit this time of my life when I've seen how my life will unfold til then my king is fallen on this chess board my feelings are buried far past the sea's shore and I've finally stopped keeping score
0
Feb 25, 2022
Feb 25, 2022 at 2:02 PM UTC
empty space, empty mind
dust has collected in this once filled room of my mine it's floated and settled on the last few things left behind spellbind windchime now i can say this empty space is all mine 8 years of pacing this room 8 years of shouting at the moon 8 years of sleeping til noon just to ignore the fact I meant nothing to you so much anger has made home in my bones the way you used to speak about me felt like being casted with stones I used to try and drown out your tasteless, colorless tone you type "she's dramatic" in a text on your phone I expected this feeling of indifference to feel free with no stop lights yet this empty space and this empty mind coincide with what I've known this whole time that all too familiar feeling of restlessness has come to an end and even though there are still memories burned into my head I don't believe I have anything else left unsaid I envied your callousness I despised your self-righteousness and i ached at your lack of consequence what caught your eye was never my elegance but rather my callowness as the ice in your drink swirls and melts and you're blaming me besides everyone else as your anger starts to swell just remember it was me who wasn't treated well we can keep our heads down while our eyes meet on the street while you pretend I don't resemble meadowsweet and that we never danced in my kitchen with me on your feet but to be honest in the end we were always offbeat when you chose to secede I found you to not be an aesthete if you could agree to be without me this story is begging to no longer be told so maybe I'll revisit this time of my life when I've seen how my life will unfold til then my king is fallen on this chess board my feelings are buried far past the sea's shore and I've finally stopped keeping score
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47
Ground zero again. Ghost ties to old moods now that you have found happiness, or at least the line of best fit. Lips interlocked incessantly on the astral beach, over the September permafrost where I held up the chains of my cell just long enough to kiss you. Chambers of blue blood, of blue feathers interspersed in the lining of our pockets: I felt I could fly when I finally met you. Heard the callousness, the human history of suffering, when the chains overwhelmed, when I fell back to the ground. You were my fortune in the wishing well, but now our tongues are rearranged, all passions now platitudes, another name or witness to wish me well. Ground zero again. The foundations exposed on what might have been love. Monoliths of steel and scorched earth. Broken vessels sail by in the night, influence of wine; words are tempered but the intent remains. You remain. Extinguished shadow in the skyline, phantom limb of loving arms. I cannot find the stars. I cannot reach out to anyone in the space you left behind.
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Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 2:32 PM UTC
Ground Zero (What Might Have Been Love)
So should a seed does grow must leave its home: Earthly walls, empty shells he covers himself with. In nakedness must Adam gather up sewn up leaves. While surrendering into the dark and foreboding earth: Miles wide and miles deep. Alone, into the sweltering and blistering heat of the sun. Armed with but a leaf for Mercy! cries his clothelessness to the wind. So must a flood pass once, twice, over and endure in callousness and tenderness. (Paolo Jerome D. Cristobal / August 5, 2014 - Bulacan)
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Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 8:42 AM UTC
garden IV
there were things i had never imagined i would understand be; experience and gape bemusedly at my unbelieving ambiguous eyes in the unnoticeably clear smiling mirror of the bathroom. things such as being a creep the creep whose wandering eye wanders just a wee bit longer. A microsecond length of the not-understood, the suspicious,the dubious the curious sometimes, but really mostly nefarious lunatic, perhaps...? the creep whose teeth clench into a smile. the lips parting but only Mendaciously...perhaps..? the creep who peers into me like a god scouring my precious little secrets my hurt points, my loci of scandalous innocuous things meant to be inside of me for my self. the creep who infringes on my warm bed of Safety. *** ******** erectile dysfunction sneer ****** ***** me father mother weirdity all the complexes that make you Feel like a spider whose web is shattered with but an uncaring finger. power. Uncaring Callousness terrifying in it's brutality intent , and things beyond . the creep peers in. but i was only trying to make friends. a bit too hard , perhaps...? oh the creeps of the world i understand thy plight the fact that you never understand what you are doing but only after it has passed that the black hole irises of un-understanding visages come to you to inform you that you have been a creep, the Creep.
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Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 1:07 AM UTC
on being a creep
I'm not trying to be needlessly edgy or **** But can we lay off Kevin all up in yo Spacey? I know it seems wrong But I feel I can understand Or at least relate Because when I feel too much love in my heart For somebody younger Who is a guy I start doing crazy **** Like projecting my life onto his Maybe he's scared Maybe he's alone Maybe I could save someone from that I have to remind myself that was just me And that there is no such thing as salvation When your mistakes are supercharged Because of the scandalous homosexual element Yet there's no one to turn to Because nobody understands So your actions become louder to drown the silence The stakes of the mischief grow There's tens of thousands of dollars in property damage That can be attributed to my sexuality You have to find a way to push past that The only way I found Is to be open about who you are Because until then the fear will consume you You fear they will laugh, mock, judge and hate you Until you wish they were silent again And they will do all these things And you will wish all those things But you'll be able to face it with strength and honesty Because your fear is more powerful than their callousness But more importantly it's better than the alternative When people discover your nature Through a mistake you've made And unleash the wrath of God They will never give a **** About how they contribute to these moments They're only there to throw gas on the fire They say it's a mistake to ****** a minor They say it's a mistake to be a whiner And there's no one who'll ever take your call Expecting them to understand Well, that's the biggest mistake of them all
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Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 2:51 AM UTC
Kevin Spacey
I'm not trying to be needlessly edgy or **** But can we lay off Kevin all up in yo Spacey? I know it seems wrong But I feel I can understand Or at least relate Because when I feel too much love in my heart For somebody younger Who is a guy I start doing crazy **** Like projecting my life onto his Maybe he's scared Maybe he's alone Maybe I could save someone from that I have to remind myself that was just me And that there is no such thing as salvation When your mistakes are supercharged Because of the scandalous homosexual element Yet there's no one to turn to Because nobody understands So your actions become louder to drown the silence The stakes of the mischief grow There's tens of thousands of dollars in property damage That can be attributed to my sexuality You have to find a way to push past that The only way I found Is to be open about who you are Because until then the fear will consume you You fear they will laugh, mock, judge and hate you Until you wish they were silent again And they will do all these things And you will wish all those things But you'll be able to face it with strength and honesty Because your fear is more powerful than their callousness But more importantly it's better than the alternative When people discover your nature Through a mistake you've made And unleash the wrath of God They will never give a **** About how they contribute to these moments They're only there to throw gas on the fire They say it's a mistake to ****** a minor They say it's a mistake to be a whiner And there's no one who'll ever take your call Expecting them to understand Well, that's the biggest mistake of them all
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45
MAN’S INHUMANITY There’s so much anger around tolerance is a long-forgotten word, sadly- and I begin to wonder in the silence of my heart whether there’s any hope in humanity anger, rage, frenzy, then hate the will of such people must be obeyed society stands on shaky ground compassion and charity is dead to what are we humans born but that we should kindness show? goodness no longer rings in ears the world is ruled by endless callousness and ego what took wisdom many a century to build hate can demolish in a moment of frenzy everywhere we hear the cry of pain and sense the demise of humanity.
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Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 4:39 AM UTC
MAN'S INHUMANITY
*grilled stamina spiced with arrogance marinated egos in bitter gall source a touch of pickled common pride a suggestion of mashed personality served generously with indifference on a platter of wonderful ignominy going like hot cakes in these sad days of lies emblazoned against night skies hurry my man while stocks last and before the merchants of doom begin their desperate auctions of ethics done with cynical glee and callousness held together by a spread of mediocrity*
0
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 1:31 AM UTC
chef's special of the day
There was nothing in this vast landscape of delusions, only illusions. A flower, a friend, a gift, a betrayal, a tear, a shattered mirror and perdition. The music of the euphoric nothingness enticing the darkness, calling for the shadows, everlasting, never ending. I know, I deserve this. Always threw the stone and looked the other way, the sin, the penitence, the lament, the void, the shallowness, the meaningless. Living each day a moribund marionette moving through the crowd an empty mess. The ticking, the hunger, the instrument, the mending of the ending, but then came you. An unexpected gaze wondering through my maze. Navigating each passage as if though you knew the way, a hindrance. Let me corrode here please, go away, I thought. I never said it. You remained here almost an embodiment of the hope I sought for so long, Perhaps this is another of my creations, a desire from the dire. Your hands are tepid, driving the frigidness away, maybe it's real? An hour, a day, a week, a period of time slowly passes. You are hope, my hope, my desire, my wish, my light and gentle day. I found the impatient clock fast-forwarding each hour until the time had come, to see one another. Your world was intriguing and vivid everyday was fun, every night a pain. Without a warning you brought the richness of the paint in to the callousness of mine. The sky once again blue, the birds with songs, the grass now green my world anew. Mere words such as “i love you” can't paint paint the picture, for it was more. And yet here I am again. Alone. Alive, not dead, back on the path to my journey. Collecting, standing, walking and eventually running through the paradox. Anew, exhumed, hope plastered once again against my chest, and as I cry, tumble, fall and learn; Each days is new, each meeting a joy and each moment thanking you. Good-bye! I bid farewell to you, let our past be remembered beautifully, and the present lived and the future build, as once again; I construct, destroy, collapse, laugh and dream.   As today the ticking resumes and I commence from where I stopped.
0
Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 12:58 AM UTC
Once again, From the start
There was nothing in this vast landscape of delusions, only illusions. A flower, a friend, a gift, a betrayal, a tear, a shattered mirror and perdition. The music of the euphoric nothingness enticing the darkness, calling for the shadows, everlasting, never ending. I know, I deserve this. Always threw the stone and looked the other way, the sin, the penitence, the lament, the void, the shallowness, the meaningless. Living each day a moribund marionette moving through the crowd an empty mess. The ticking, the hunger, the instrument, the mending of the ending, but then came you. An unexpected gaze wondering through my maze. Navigating each passage as if though you knew the way, a hindrance. Let me corrode here please, go away, I thought. I never said it. You remained here almost an embodiment of the hope I sought for so long, Perhaps this is another of my creations, a desire from the dire. Your hands are tepid, driving the frigidness away, maybe it's real? An hour, a day, a week, a period of time slowly passes. You are hope, my hope, my desire, my wish, my light and gentle day. I found the impatient clock fast-forwarding each hour until the time had come, to see one another. Your world was intriguing and vivid everyday was fun, every night a pain. Without a warning you brought the richness of the paint in to the callousness of mine. The sky once again blue, the birds with songs, the grass now green my world anew. Mere words such as “i love you” can't paint paint the picture, for it was more. And yet here I am again. Alone. Alive, not dead, back on the path to my journey. Collecting, standing, walking and eventually running through the paradox. Anew, exhumed, hope plastered once again against my chest, and as I cry, tumble, fall and learn; Each days is new, each meeting a joy and each moment thanking you. Good-bye! I bid farewell to you, let our past be remembered beautifully, and the present lived and the future build, as once again; I construct, destroy, collapse, laugh and dream.   As today the ticking resumes and I commence from where I stopped.
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32
Looking at the heart wrenching image, Moved my whole being to tears, Laying lifeless, bloodied, Entry wood to her temple; The husband craddling her head, Tearfully looking down, At the love of his life, Never again to cheer his home; She left the home that morning, To oversee elections, To serve her fatherland, To contribute her own quota; But all she got, Was a bullet to her head, The robbing of her life, Abrupt end to an unfolding story; Two children have lost their mother, Parents have lost their daughter, Sibblings have lost their kin, And a husband his confidant; Would she like many others, Be a little statistic, Some unfortunate incident, Lost to unending callousness?
0
Feb 25, 2019
Feb 25, 2019 at 3:33 PM UTC
TO SERVE NIGERIA, IS NOT BY FORCE!
The anticipation is heavy within me, Clouding my every thought I feel light headed as you Shut off the flow of life Around me as nothing else matters, I can savor the hesitation Between the airlock Of our lips, And then it's a vertical wrestle Across the floor Shucking off clothes And then we stop, That millimeter Space between The contact Of our bodies, I can almost feel Your delicate suggestion Of hairs rise like static, Electrifying The first beads of sweat As our skins graze Like the first seconds of an ice cube When barely you acknowledge its temperature, The first sip of summer's cool lemonade; Or is it the very finest of wines, That's no longer here nor there As I cling onto your body Pleasurable friction, Solid yet malleable Against the bed trestle And every other strong surface, I feel the smoothness of you Against the rough callousness of my hands, And I feel I could never let go, No questions words or thinking, Just heart, need, and want And crave, and hunger Salt lick, I want to deplete you of air And replace it all with passion; Sweet, our bodies shivering Like crack fiends, No athlete could keep up In this heat feel The slightest caress of a breeze... APAD13 003 - © okpoet
0
Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 4:04 PM UTC
Anticipation...
watched in her cage with blazing eyes, a casket was hidden with hurt and blame within the hearts of two She braced the words and actions of callousness, the usual, disrespect he flamed a stem of anger in her patient heart and carved collected wounds in her bleeding heart, cloaking her sunlight within a kaleidoscope With every fight, their heart spoke like titanic ships, screaming chords from broken strings in sunken seas with every fight, she poured her heart and soul to him (once more), bearing her heart with unscripted honesty, reflected in apologies and thought. with his words spoken, "I love you. We will fix this," tears stream down, unbroken but she wonders if the truth is faded with empty promises, no action
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Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 7:48 AM UTC
another fight
Today is my first day without you, like really without you. Before, there was always a chance, always a hope that things would be okay and that we would work out. But today is the start of a new chapter, where you and me don't exist, and there is no us, maybe, or one day. I am free of the lies you told, the mistreatment, and the disdain. I'm free of the inconsistency, callousness, and pain. There are no more chances, no forgiveness, or apologies to accept. There or no more talks, or possibilities, or "just want to catch up"s. Your power is gone, the one you held over me like a grim reaper, waiting for me to falter. The worst kind of monster... Welcoming me with open arms, only to lead me down the spiral of insanity. I'm done, and I'm ready, but I'm not yet okay. But I know that now I can work towards feeling that again one day. And it hurts, but maybe that's the pain that I need. Perhaps it's just that which will finally break the cycle of awful, maddening repetition. I know some days I will move forward and some days I'll fall back, but at least you won't be there to remind me just how much. I will never again hate myself for letting you in. This is not the end, and I'm so ready to begin. So today I will celebrate your absence, as a never-ending holiday. I am so thankful that I chose not to let you stay. Because none of this was worth it, and if I could I would change so many things, and wish all of it away. So goodbye, my love, the one haunting my past. The one who appears in my nightmares, including the one I live every day. Who's there to remind me that I'm weak, and I'm broken, and that no truer words have ever been spoken, except... I'm more whole than you'll ever be, especially now you have to live without me.
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Jan 31, 2022
Jan 31, 2022 at 8:16 AM UTC
Any Last Words?
Today is my first day without you, like really without you. Before, there was always a chance, always a hope that things would be okay and that we would work out. But today is the start of a new chapter, where you and me don't exist, and there is no us, maybe, or one day. I am free of the lies you told, the mistreatment, and the disdain. I'm free of the inconsistency, callousness, and pain. There are no more chances, no forgiveness, or apologies to accept. There or no more talks, or possibilities, or "just want to catch up"s. Your power is gone, the one you held over me like a grim reaper, waiting for me to falter. The worst kind of monster... Welcoming me with open arms, only to lead me down the spiral of insanity. I'm done, and I'm ready, but I'm not yet okay. But I know that now I can work towards feeling that again one day. And it hurts, but maybe that's the pain that I need. Perhaps it's just that which will finally break the cycle of awful, maddening repetition. I know some days I will move forward and some days I'll fall back, but at least you won't be there to remind me just how much. I will never again hate myself for letting you in. This is not the end, and I'm so ready to begin. So today I will celebrate your absence, as a never-ending holiday. I am so thankful that I chose not to let you stay. Because none of this was worth it, and if I could I would change so many things, and wish all of it away. So goodbye, my love, the one haunting my past. The one who appears in my nightmares, including the one I live every day. Who's there to remind me that I'm weak, and I'm broken, and that no truer words have ever been spoken, except... I'm more whole than you'll ever be, especially now you have to live without me.
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23
A simple kiss upon your cheek, A gentle, loving kiss. Not amorous or passionate, Not connoting love remiss. Thirty years ago we were an "item" as they say. I broke your heart with my callousness when, hurtfully, I strayed I'm not proud that I hurt you. Sad that it comes to this- To kiss you like a stranger feels like the Judas Kiss.
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May 27, 2012
May 27, 2012 at 7:27 PM UTC
The Judas Kiss
When tenderness turns away, Hope breathes a final sigh. Life reverts to shades of grey – Love, once fluid, turns brittle and dry. Zephyrs that often piqued an interest And brought exotic dreams to fore – Die as doldrums, unimpressed; To leave one haunted, wanting more. If Passion is Love's celebration, The verve and spirit of its vigor - Then Tenderness is its reflection – In absentia; brings callousness and rancor. In the quiet times, when passion sleeps - Touch me softly in tenderness- Delicate wonders that Love's company keeps To remind me again with sweet gentleness. Alas, when tenderness turns away, Lost to deaf ears, that final sigh – Love is loathe to wait or to stay, Hearts cease to beat and Love does die. Lin Cava©
0
Oct 20, 2010
Oct 20, 2010 at 4:35 PM UTC
Tenderness In Absentia
Again Such a vivid yet abstract motivation, a warm sense of meaning in my gut concocted from some poignant expression And again I'm at it Clattering into a comfort, a comfort absent of the cellular and substantial, yet so personal and surreal Without a definite direction, do these words have meaning? Well... what means a lot to me right now? What clenches against my skin, burning it red with tension in pure uncomfortable distraction? What insecurities make me feel as though my bones and bits could brittle to the point of sand? Well.. the usual. Clarity, validation, ****** release, a definitive admirable prowd sense of self, a bunch of ethereal concepts that haven't had the decency to manifest themselves and be nice enough to kick me in the face, shocking my nerves into a smile of reality. And the usual reflection on these worries reminds me of the usual image glimmering back, a response of criticism. For fuck's sake. And it is then I say **** you to the irrational and rational growths of pressure, and try to discern, rationalise, make distinct what matters. Or I let it all go, but remind myself soon enough that the world is waiting. The usual. I wonder if that job, career, book, **** even if that house would center the scales, but I doubt it. I wonder if the girl would massage my mind into tranquility, or if that girl will even be close enough to not notice me there. Or if a new someone will wander in, force me into a unavoidable eye contact. Either way.. The rooms are less foggy, the words are more clear. The mirror man does look sexier. The critiques will keep coming, the work will cycle and the validation won't be felt for a while, and may not be felt at all from the sources associated. But my tongue has more words and my throat has more volume. The stigma of the eyes from a thousand people morphs from suspicion to callousness to clarity. So yeah. The meaning here... well... I'm fine thanks. How are you?
0
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 6:36 PM UTC
A good healthy deconstruction
Again Such a vivid yet abstract motivation, a warm sense of meaning in my gut concocted from some poignant expression And again I'm at it Clattering into a comfort, a comfort absent of the cellular and substantial, yet so personal and surreal Without a definite direction, do these words have meaning? Well... what means a lot to me right now? What clenches against my skin, burning it red with tension in pure uncomfortable distraction? What insecurities make me feel as though my bones and bits could brittle to the point of sand? Well.. the usual. Clarity, validation, ****** release, a definitive admirable prowd sense of self, a bunch of ethereal concepts that haven't had the decency to manifest themselves and be nice enough to kick me in the face, shocking my nerves into a smile of reality. And the usual reflection on these worries reminds me of the usual image glimmering back, a response of criticism. For fuck's sake. And it is then I say **** you to the irrational and rational growths of pressure, and try to discern, rationalise, make distinct what matters. Or I let it all go, but remind myself soon enough that the world is waiting. The usual. I wonder if that job, career, book, **** even if that house would center the scales, but I doubt it. I wonder if the girl would massage my mind into tranquility, or if that girl will even be close enough to not notice me there. Or if a new someone will wander in, force me into a unavoidable eye contact. Either way.. The rooms are less foggy, the words are more clear. The mirror man does look sexier. The critiques will keep coming, the work will cycle and the validation won't be felt for a while, and may not be felt at all from the sources associated. But my tongue has more words and my throat has more volume. The stigma of the eyes from a thousand people morphs from suspicion to callousness to clarity. So yeah. The meaning here... well... I'm fine thanks. How are you?
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14
Please God, if you are actually out there I do not know can I please just be with the other dreamers existing amongst the current situation is degrading my soul at some point within the mindless consumerism and gluttony I went insane the pain, the ****** the callousness abuse I cannot sustain yet another thrashing please release me if death is the only way, so be it but if there is another way lead me to the other dreamers let me hold their hand, unite as one as we should and bring about coexistence, wash away the hatred, indoctrination defilement of life all of us hiding from what we truly crave for it is what we were taught I see the others out there, but we cannot reach across the mobs there are too **** many, we are overwhelmed so we sit here screaming into nothingness, while the masses just laugh some can hold out, I have found I cannot I do not know when it happened, but I lost it complete control over any aspect of my being I need to feel the connection the world you created went so wrong and I see it please wash me away in yet another flood if that is really what happened hell I don't know if that is even true the corrupt probably wrote it to control me but this is my prayer can you hear me?
0
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 1:31 AM UTC
My Prayer Is It Even Heard
The ennui leads me to shirk humanity I'd like to see the world burn, entertain me Who can I manipulate, pull the strings of puppetry Count these dots on the ceiling for another eternity. The ennui's whisper is a striking sledgehammer "Nothing's wrong and nothing's right," to my saccharine master A distraction is a religion, a light, a pastor Find a building, burn it down, if only for laughter. The ennui's madness, says it can't exist with life Push me up onto this cliff, close my hand around a knife Scream fury, bitter anger, over the sound of this strife And when the rage is exhausted, with ennui I am rife. The ennui leads me to think of impossible things I could have an ultimate power that exceeds all living beings The ennui leads me to write, and sing, and sleep, and think And not a one of those will shake it, it resides so deep in me. The ennui is disenchantment, apathy, and callousness. The ennui is because I could's, both boiled and steeped in it. The ennui is I don't care to a level never before seen. The ennui is why bother with this without the will to leave.
0
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 3:32 PM UTC
Ennui
The ashes of our loved ones are blown in the wind, The blood of our siblings fill the streets, Politicians we elected rob us, with impunity, Working tirelessly to reduce us to bits; They **** our soldiers- our dearly beloved brothers, Send them to a war which they themselves create, They have underarmed the soldiers but arm the enemy, Their callousness and negligence- we cannot underestimate; Their is no one to speak for us- no one at all, They sit in their noble seats lobbying for themselves, They fill their homes with the resources of our people, While these people are left with little to fend for themselves; Our educational system has been brought to ruin, Medical system is now in a deplorable state, Fund looting is now the order of the day, To impoverish my people even further is all they debate; Our security operatives are those that **** us more, Our hearts are always filled with fear when they come our way, They maim and **** even when we protest for justice, Who then should we run to when killers come our way? The minority among us are disenfranchised, Jobs belonging to our youths have been stolen away, Those who create jobs for themseves earn too little to live by, The pensions of pensioneers are hijacked day by day; Our bills are on the increase while salaries remain the same, The salaries of some are slashed day by day, In the midst these difficulties is the firing of workers, As wages become burdensome for companies to pay; I pray that youths like me will open their eyes and see, That all we have is ourselves not these enemies, If this lesson is learnt we will quit fighting eachother, And tolerate one another- finding ways to sustain peace; Shall this oppression continue while we stand and watch? No- we will rise and create a new era of representatives? A people who will be elected from our very own, People of our own generation to replace these theives.
0
Dec 1, 2016
Dec 1, 2016 at 12:17 AM UTC
Nigeria- An Afflicted Nation
The ashes of our loved ones are blown in the wind, The blood of our siblings fill the streets, Politicians we elected rob us, with impunity, Working tirelessly to reduce us to bits; They **** our soldiers- our dearly beloved brothers, Send them to a war which they themselves create, They have underarmed the soldiers but arm the enemy, Their callousness and negligence- we cannot underestimate; Their is no one to speak for us- no one at all, They sit in their noble seats lobbying for themselves, They fill their homes with the resources of our people, While these people are left with little to fend for themselves; Our educational system has been brought to ruin, Medical system is now in a deplorable state, Fund looting is now the order of the day, To impoverish my people even further is all they debate; Our security operatives are those that **** us more, Our hearts are always filled with fear when they come our way, They maim and **** even when we protest for justice, Who then should we run to when killers come our way? The minority among us are disenfranchised, Jobs belonging to our youths have been stolen away, Those who create jobs for themseves earn too little to live by, The pensions of pensioneers are hijacked day by day; Our bills are on the increase while salaries remain the same, The salaries of some are slashed day by day, In the midst these difficulties is the firing of workers, As wages become burdensome for companies to pay; I pray that youths like me will open their eyes and see, That all we have is ourselves not these enemies, If this lesson is learnt we will quit fighting eachother, And tolerate one another- finding ways to sustain peace; Shall this oppression continue while we stand and watch? No- we will rise and create a new era of representatives? A people who will be elected from our very own, People of our own generation to replace these theives.
Continue reading...
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