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"cancels" poems
Algorithms will drive Society to chaos. **ONE CREATES/ONE DESTROYS. ONE DOES/ONE CANCELS. ARE WE ******* CRAZY?** '*' Technology will not control me.                           . . .technology will not control me technology will not control me.* *
0
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 11:03 PM UTC
MATH
I just want it to happen Like it's a work of magic. Like some kind of miracle That cancels all that is tragic. A spontaneous kind of thing Without me saying a word As if you read my very thoughts As if somehow you heard. It's a hope I've had all my life. The perfect lover comes along Saying exactly what I need to hear Never puts one foot wrong. Someone proud to be by my side That I never have to show the way And stay beside me as I sleep At the end of every perfect day. Because I can't stand any more Of the things I've had to bear. The many kinds of disrespect And the obvious lack of care. I need that someone special Who has the gift of giving. Who sees in me perfection Your world, life, and everything. I've had too much of the rest The other kind of love affair Where I am just a stopgap They didn't ever really care. The love I am looking for And who you just have to be Is the soul of romanatic essence, Absolute perfection, like me.
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Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 2:47 PM UTC
MAGIC OF LOVE
It's like a diamond stake pushed through the silence of my brain It's like a thunder of voices coming down like a hurricane It's like a forest of gunfire blowing past my bedroom door It's like the force of a god pushing down on my floor Whip smart, by all accounts, but lost beneath the sheets Forced out of a comfort zone and pushed out to the streets Spastic changing voices like a record out of line Just speak like you always do and don't **** with my mind I'm like a tidal wave that only gets halfway there No shore to erode with no Taiwan to even care I'm like a promise left on the kitchen table after dawn Someone will find it but it will be thrown out on the lawn Born without a spoon but there is silver in my teeth I'm made out of as much spirit as a plastic, clearance wreath Dust beneath the stars cancels out the dawning sun Shine on the bums, the prophets, everyone
0
Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 3:38 PM UTC
Worn Out By A Hurricane:
You are the rock stuck inside of my sock. You are drying off naturally after the longest shower in history, because you forgot the towel. Like the string that is hanging off of my sweater. I keep tugging it and pretty soon it is short enough for July weather. The person using the car horn instead of ringing a door bell. The low battery symbol on my cell. Pungent perfume from a co-worker, the grossest smell. The **** that asks for the red piece from your package of sweets. The friend who cancels five minutes before every time you meet. The rap artist that thanks God when he wins an award, even though his songs are just about killing. Medical technicians milling about when your arm really is broken. The chapstick left in the pocket when the clothes are in a dryer. Dress pants for work that are so tight, you feel you must be riding a wire. The friend's children that you think are rude, Unexpected company when you and your lover were getting in the mood. But I guess it is just easier to say, I just don't have a good attitude.
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Apr 19, 2010
Apr 19, 2010 at 10:21 PM UTC
annoying people
I'm blessed to be alive. One of the chosen few That'll see the sunrise And feel the early dew. I'm blessed to be alive Living on his promise With my joy in overdrive, He cancels my demise. I'm blessed to be alive Covered by divine grace Favor into which I dive With smiles on my face. I'm blessed to be alive All healthy, happy and fit Comes trials, I'll survive By his grace, I'll make it. ©️IB-Poetry 2/27/2018
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Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 2:14 PM UTC
I'm Blessed
We’re gathered here today to put to rest the words I didn’t mean to say. The thoughts I tried my best to suppress, but slipped out anyway. Delivering meanings that I didn’t have planned, And messages she just can’t understand. My acid tongue throws out its poisonous whispers into her ear, containing words she was never meant to hear. But she cancels them out with her alkaline replies that don’t align with mine. She’s the one who starts this game every time. Throwing in the truths that bring me shame, But when I claw out her flaws from beneath the dirt out onto the surface, They impregnate her hazel eyes with rain. And I’m always the one to get the blame. I check the weather where she is to know if she can see the dark clouds leaving, Unveiling the blue skies that lie beneath. Hoping that one day she will open her hazel eyes and realise we’ve been through wet and dry seasons that continue to replay like groundhog day. But all we can do is keep believing that there is a reason why we can’t let the storms blow it all away, Just because of the words I didn’t mean to say.
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Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 2:46 PM UTC
The Words I Didn't Mean To Say.
As true as the sky is blue, A best friend is always there for you. From dreaming of dragons in a dizzy daze, To standing together in scary school hallways. Jessica the daring, Stephanie the brain, They are two links in a chain. Jess is ready to jump at the drop of a hat, While Stephanie would prefer to pet a cat. Steph's test is an ace, While Jess's is a slight disgrace. They say opposites attract, The two were made for each other, and that's a fact. However, a problem has breached this affinity, There's a new boy in Jess's vicinity. She has fallen head over heels, For his bad boy disposition and decked out wheels. Steph is not too fond of this new addition, She's finding loneliness is her new condition. Jess is too busy and cancels plans, Steph worries and begins to wring her hands. An attempt to capture Jess's attention, Jess has yet to mention, Steph has boldly dyed her hair, But Jess just doesn't care. Lips pressed against Blaine's, Jess's head is in the rain. Her judgement has gone cloudy, With Blaine, she's beginning to act rowdy. Every day they go farther and farther, Blaine is pressuring her even harder. Blaine has gotten into her head, And hungrily leads her to his bed. Now Steph stands alone in the halls, And Jess stopped answering her calls. It's been months now since they've conversed, Steph's heart is about to burst. Bad boy Blaine is not so great, For Jess's sensative mental state. They have begun to yell and fight, Steph notices and thinks it's not quite right. Steph tries to help; Jess tells her to stay out of it, But there are signs that she's been hit. She comes to school with bruises black and blue, Steph knows this is nothing new. Everything's beginning to fall apart, Blaine has shattered her fragile heart. In tears, Jess has a confession, Her life is now ruled by guilt and depression. After weeks of sobbing and crying, Jess decides she should be trying. She hesitantly picks up the phone, And calls Steph at home. Jess tells Steph her regrets about Blaine, About her letting him inside her brain. She gave him everything, He toyed with her heart like a cat with string. Jess and Steph now see eye to eye, Now that Jess and Blaine have said goodbye. They are once again two links in a chain, They help each other through the pain. After all, what are friends for, Than to be there when knocking on each other's door? A best friend is always there for you, That's as true as the sky is blue.
0
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 9:43 AM UTC
Friendship
As true as the sky is blue, A best friend is always there for you. From dreaming of dragons in a dizzy daze, To standing together in scary school hallways. Jessica the daring, Stephanie the brain, They are two links in a chain. Jess is ready to jump at the drop of a hat, While Stephanie would prefer to pet a cat. Steph's test is an ace, While Jess's is a slight disgrace. They say opposites attract, The two were made for each other, and that's a fact. However, a problem has breached this affinity, There's a new boy in Jess's vicinity. She has fallen head over heels, For his bad boy disposition and decked out wheels. Steph is not too fond of this new addition, She's finding loneliness is her new condition. Jess is too busy and cancels plans, Steph worries and begins to wring her hands. An attempt to capture Jess's attention, Jess has yet to mention, Steph has boldly dyed her hair, But Jess just doesn't care. Lips pressed against Blaine's, Jess's head is in the rain. Her judgement has gone cloudy, With Blaine, she's beginning to act rowdy. Every day they go farther and farther, Blaine is pressuring her even harder. Blaine has gotten into her head, And hungrily leads her to his bed. Now Steph stands alone in the halls, And Jess stopped answering her calls. It's been months now since they've conversed, Steph's heart is about to burst. Bad boy Blaine is not so great, For Jess's sensative mental state. They have begun to yell and fight, Steph notices and thinks it's not quite right. Steph tries to help; Jess tells her to stay out of it, But there are signs that she's been hit. She comes to school with bruises black and blue, Steph knows this is nothing new. Everything's beginning to fall apart, Blaine has shattered her fragile heart. In tears, Jess has a confession, Her life is now ruled by guilt and depression. After weeks of sobbing and crying, Jess decides she should be trying. She hesitantly picks up the phone, And calls Steph at home. Jess tells Steph her regrets about Blaine, About her letting him inside her brain. She gave him everything, He toyed with her heart like a cat with string. Jess and Steph now see eye to eye, Now that Jess and Blaine have said goodbye. They are once again two links in a chain, They help each other through the pain. After all, what are friends for, Than to be there when knocking on each other's door? A best friend is always there for you, That's as true as the sky is blue.
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64
I was wondering if my pictures clear in heaven I see stairs visions impaired, living in fear Dark halls cancels light. Footsteps I wonder what might happened if they'll aproach me. Silently moving swiftly through avenues of depression. Maybe it wasn't heaven in disguise, it was all lies, let me sleep so these dark hours can pass by. As I sleep it follows me into a trans seeing nocturnal images, aggressively ******* my life away. Resiting things, not even of tongues but of possession my opression is my basic fear a player and contestant. Gravity Falls, Gravity Falls Paintings of disasters Maid Dolls, following eyes, Creepiness, Gravity Falls. A war within myself is like mental intoxication I can't think right can someone fly apon me, So I can even contest with such a spiritual fight but let me not say things because insight another demon might just take away what I think is righteous, Gravity Falls.
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Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 8:47 AM UTC
Gravity Falls
If I were to elicit success's embodiment And to feel it's enrapture, like sin It's touch, coarse as salt to the fingertips? Would it smell like a rose on the wind? To risk, for a shared surreptitiousness That very boldness independence empowers, to instead announce allegiance to the flock of the age When drinking after hours Should it matter on the stage... As a coy rebuttal to loneliness In prioritizing what you need, by finding "circuitous" after a dip in the thesaurus for describing a sentence about trees ("When, obviously, it's actually describing something...far more potent...than any mere tree.") ...what fails to show up on the page? Such is the world that Art wanders into All big gestures 'round a clattering din ....but instead, "Success" has meant to me A home in my arms And she feels like a world resting beneath my chin A thought that cancels out Art's disappointments ...And her breath is a rose on the wind.
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Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 5:58 AM UTC
Success
Hungry. but all I have is cigarettes, so I smoke. Exhausted from all this walking. I sit down, hand out. Do you have any spare change? "No, sorry." Everyone answers the same. Strive (but for what?) (you're no body) Just a homeless man A pillow would be nice. But I would have no where to keep it? My life is like a secret. Another cigarette. (only 2 left) (need to make them last) Stomach is knotted (better find food) I know the town, there is a store close by. "Hello sir, how are you?" Fine, thanks. I walk around the store. The smell of food, cancels the hunger. But just in case, I stole a candy bar. I sit down to eat, and smoke another cigarette. Put my hand out. (the people here are generous) I got twenty dollars here once. Bought three packs of cigarettes, and a lighter. A five dollar bill, falls into frame. I look around, no one near. It must be a sign. Somebody is telling me to wake up, inside. There's that candy bar. Oh so good. Finish it off with a cigarette. Then I will buy another pack.
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Feb 29, 2012
Feb 29, 2012 at 10:18 PM UTC
Homeless Hunger
The Dublin strand is papered in wind, my old book renewed into romance. I love her. Pen scratches the whole page black, & variant sprawls of my name repeat until I own a house. Sister & I in dad's old car head up to Petworth, & walk back under a sky that rolls & folds, a bolt of cloth. Break new trees on the prison island, handcuffs of ivy, jump the fence & escape to the highway. In Georgetown, lush reeds wave from the canal bottom, easting in the chartreuse. Then cross to Dupont, thronged with day-enders and students shifting from coffee to ***** as the hour rises. Scheherazade cancels, but I make the best of it, writing at the bar next to the girl in leatherette. The day ends with me fighting the pharmacy of my sleepy blood while I break the bed I always hated and throw it into the orange. Day's done. Another year to come. Thinking of her - sleep.
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Apr 12, 2019
Apr 12, 2019 at 2:58 AM UTC
39th Birthday
This girl is darkness and she’s beautiful. She tells me to call her darkness. She wears makeup I hate and always has a scowl on her face. She threatens to break my legs if I touch any of her writing journals. She rolls her eyes whenever I tell her I miss her. She cancels our dates because she sometimes gets too anxious. She sometimes lets me hold her hand. She cries for hours after reading a book and she calls to rant about the characters she hates. She refuses to wear the ring I got her on her finger so she wears it on a necklace. She says she likes her nails sharp so she can impale her enemies with a flick of her wrists. My girl is darkness and she’s beautiful.
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Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 10:21 PM UTC
A Poem I Wrote For My Best Friend
I live on a small (25 sq. mile) island, accessible only by ferry.                                                   <> “For we are dear to the immortal gods, Living here, in the sea that rolls forever, Distant from other lands and other men” —Homer, the Odyssey (translated by Robert Fitzgerald)                                                       <> *sea air inoculates the slowing breath-taking ferried voyager, our landed cares felled, fall into a wake, trailing, sunk & submerged, a ferry’s ramp contact-clangs, belling a “Here, Here!” alters our mien, the softening airy enveloping, fragrantly, a greeting of immortal gods* *no matter that we can vision-easy the neighboring isles, with their trafficked-light busyness, the to and fro of mainland life, bustle necessity of hustle, our riveted river moat cancels out imposing surround sounds, our untucked flavor, floating free* *wafting perfume of quiet inlet, creek and harbour, touch us safely, alternating currents of gentle breeze, stiffer sailing winds, gusts, bending us, these reminders, we humans too, creatures of elementals, water, sun, forest, sand, animals, singular upon co-hosted menagerie* *the brackish water, where fresh + marine waters mix, live + die, reflecting our pooling diversity, so few of us born here, yet so many, adopt and adapt the isle’s peculiarities, endearing all without any distinction, we blessed together by Immortal Gods to shelter together, by, from, the seas that roll us into one peaceful island, nearly, dearly, and now departed*                                                        <> Shell Beach, Shelter Island August 2021
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Aug 7, 2021
Aug 7, 2021 at 1:28 PM UTC
To the Immortal Gods:
I live on a small (25 sq. mile) island, accessible only by ferry.                                                   <> “For we are dear to the immortal gods, Living here, in the sea that rolls forever, Distant from other lands and other men” —Homer, the Odyssey (translated by Robert Fitzgerald)                                                       <> *sea air inoculates the slowing breath-taking ferried voyager, our landed cares felled, fall into a wake, trailing, sunk & submerged, a ferry’s ramp contact-clangs, belling a “Here, Here!” alters our mien, the softening airy enveloping, fragrantly, a greeting of immortal gods* *no matter that we can vision-easy the neighboring isles, with their trafficked-light busyness, the to and fro of mainland life, bustle necessity of hustle, our riveted river moat cancels out imposing surround sounds, our untucked flavor, floating free* *wafting perfume of quiet inlet, creek and harbour, touch us safely, alternating currents of gentle breeze, stiffer sailing winds, gusts, bending us, these reminders, we humans too, creatures of elementals, water, sun, forest, sand, animals, singular upon co-hosted menagerie* *the brackish water, where fresh + marine waters mix, live + die, reflecting our pooling diversity, so few of us born here, yet so many, adopt and adapt the isle’s peculiarities, endearing all without any distinction, we blessed together by Immortal Gods to shelter together, by, from, the seas that roll us into one peaceful island, nearly, dearly, and now departed*                                                        <> Shell Beach, Shelter Island August 2021
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29
I am a monster but I am very little so it cancels out
0
Sep 26, 2010
Sep 26, 2010 at 8:44 PM UTC
Monster oHaiku
Desperate to grab the grail of words we decide to share our joint thoughts to introspect our vision together of what it takes to write two at this hour Pen and paper, one writes witness into the mind of the other and meets the timid point of punctuation, followed by the exasperation of words it only follows rules do not apply nor does a simulacra of similes the enjambment is our language that we create we can misplace is it our native tongue so much so that poetry never needs to be learned? The friendship of thought to process Relays poet to poem to poet And poem again It's with you now I walk Our eyes along the same path to troth It's truth is spoken Between lines, it's in the heart Our paths, alone, come together Its friendship Is art Dialogical process fill in the blanks at 1:01 4:01 p.m, hey aim For the sweet link we proudly discovered and shared in eyes and ink Both black. It's lack of light Where the sun of the one seeks the night of the other It's days and nights; mark hours... asunder under calendar And daydream of once and again seeing the same sun face the marvel of the other We are time traveling, air traveling through words book a seat at the airline company of poetry What the other sees in the sun sky above her the other thinks of under his night sky the thought of one never cancels that of the other We trod on the same path Me with Ginsberg, you with Plath. Written jointly by Appoline Romanens first, third, seventh and ninth paragraph at 1:00-1:27 pm, Lyon, France and by Jesse Altamirano, second, fourth, fifth, sixth and eighth 4:00- 4:30 am, Riverside, California May 23, 2017
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May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 7:40 AM UTC
Class of English 102W(riting) reunion
Desperate to grab the grail of words we decide to share our joint thoughts to introspect our vision together of what it takes to write two at this hour Pen and paper, one writes witness into the mind of the other and meets the timid point of punctuation, followed by the exasperation of words it only follows rules do not apply nor does a simulacra of similes the enjambment is our language that we create we can misplace is it our native tongue so much so that poetry never needs to be learned? The friendship of thought to process Relays poet to poem to poet And poem again It's with you now I walk Our eyes along the same path to troth It's truth is spoken Between lines, it's in the heart Our paths, alone, come together Its friendship Is art Dialogical process fill in the blanks at 1:01 4:01 p.m, hey aim For the sweet link we proudly discovered and shared in eyes and ink Both black. It's lack of light Where the sun of the one seeks the night of the other It's days and nights; mark hours... asunder under calendar And daydream of once and again seeing the same sun face the marvel of the other We are time traveling, air traveling through words book a seat at the airline company of poetry What the other sees in the sun sky above her the other thinks of under his night sky the thought of one never cancels that of the other We trod on the same path Me with Ginsberg, you with Plath. Written jointly by Appoline Romanens first, third, seventh and ninth paragraph at 1:00-1:27 pm, Lyon, France and by Jesse Altamirano, second, fourth, fifth, sixth and eighth 4:00- 4:30 am, Riverside, California May 23, 2017
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46
So I sew stitches around the crown made of fingers twisted like a tangled dandelion strangled garden worn as a closet to hide my crafted paper daft boxes that I keep my skeletons in because their keyholes keep appearing on my face, If you destroyed like me you'd see that ashes are the outcome of a matchstick man, I cannot rest my head yet on my pillows made of dead rabbits feet and fox tails until I store them in their little coffee can tin jars far under this mattress pad of nails, Warm words in cold rooms subsumes the silent night screens projected over by my rising motion picture smoke breath that my eyes watch alone now at a distance starting from my lucky lucky steel dagger full sized sheet set and ending at an omen reflecting my separation anxieties coming from my lungs, Yet loneliness is the only person neatly tucked between it other than my own broken battered body with a shiver and a quiver discretely manifesting, And like white ghosts the stars watch me sleeping at night, You can flog all my windows, But I'll still be sleeping at night, I'll miss all your wake up calls, Every single one, So I let the music play, Because noise cancels noise inside an introverted fire starter
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May 2, 2013
May 2, 2013 at 4:50 PM UTC
When I Leave The Room It's Because A Nightmare Sits Next To Me
the worst feeling is the one when writing is the only release you've got but you've got writers block and you can't conjure the words that explain the emptiness behind your thoughts the word indescribable cancels itself out and you're left wondering if writing on cave walls sharpens or disintegrates the rock. I wish I could find the words to tell you that I can't sleep at night, not even under your sheets and Christmas lights, and I'm not sure why. I wish I could find the words to tell you that I never have energy or motivation or an appetite. I wish I could find the words to tell you that I miss your passion and affection and the inspiration you used to spark inside of me. And even more so the words to tell you that I think you misplaced those things, like your wallet and dollar bills and lighters. I'm searching under couch cushions for cheek kisses and creative lyrics about the sparks I lit inside of you. Maybe you didn't lose them though. Maybe I lost the fire. Maybe I'm the small fireworks at ten pm and you're midnight on New Years Eve. Maybe you need a bigger flame. I want you to have that. I want to be that, but the only words I can think of to tell you are that I've found damp coals in my soul and I don't know how to replace them with new ones. I wish I had words. These words are hollow. Which makes sense because that's all I've felt lately. I hope you continue to love me when I'm nothing but hollow eyes and dark circles and collar bones. I hope I can continue to love you in the right way with this skeleton but I feel weaker knees failing me already. Show me how to float like you do. Show me how to fly and light on fire. Let me be midnight with you. I need to be midnight or I won't make it until then. That last sentence has so much meaning behind it and I wish I could find the words to explain the symbolism or intensity of it. I wish I could find words so I could stop with the repetition but I'm just repeating myself.
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Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 10:59 PM UTC
firewords
the worst feeling is the one when writing is the only release you've got but you've got writers block and you can't conjure the words that explain the emptiness behind your thoughts the word indescribable cancels itself out and you're left wondering if writing on cave walls sharpens or disintegrates the rock. I wish I could find the words to tell you that I can't sleep at night, not even under your sheets and Christmas lights, and I'm not sure why. I wish I could find the words to tell you that I never have energy or motivation or an appetite. I wish I could find the words to tell you that I miss your passion and affection and the inspiration you used to spark inside of me. And even more so the words to tell you that I think you misplaced those things, like your wallet and dollar bills and lighters. I'm searching under couch cushions for cheek kisses and creative lyrics about the sparks I lit inside of you. Maybe you didn't lose them though. Maybe I lost the fire. Maybe I'm the small fireworks at ten pm and you're midnight on New Years Eve. Maybe you need a bigger flame. I want you to have that. I want to be that, but the only words I can think of to tell you are that I've found damp coals in my soul and I don't know how to replace them with new ones. I wish I had words. These words are hollow. Which makes sense because that's all I've felt lately. I hope you continue to love me when I'm nothing but hollow eyes and dark circles and collar bones. I hope I can continue to love you in the right way with this skeleton but I feel weaker knees failing me already. Show me how to float like you do. Show me how to fly and light on fire. Let me be midnight with you. I need to be midnight or I won't make it until then. That last sentence has so much meaning behind it and I wish I could find the words to explain the symbolism or intensity of it. I wish I could find words so I could stop with the repetition but I'm just repeating myself.
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21
Happiness is the delusion we all share. The hope that; this is the winning ticket, this is my big break, this is the one true god, this person really loves me. Obsessed with the dream, we lose ourselves in it and fall blindly off the mountain. Calm and gentle, you begin to fly. The cool wind moves across your face and you find bliss in your ignorance. The sound is loud and cancels out caution. It is the siren's song being screamed in your ear. Open your eyes!? Why??? The air is clean. The ecstasy is pure. The mountain loves you. But the tables turn like a friend putting a bullet through the back of you skull, lakeside to your favorite memory. The fall does not send you to heaven, but to hell. Paralyzed and screaming; you are alive, but just barely. Bones puncture skin, blood pools, muscles squirm, your mind knows nothing but pain. Thriving in agony, you call for help but the mountain has no ears. Drown yourself in the puddle of blood, spit, **** and tears before shame eats you alive. It stirs near by, waiting for a taste of the gullible sack of meat the mountain has sacrificed for them. A final futile attempt at hope draws you back in. You try to touch the memory of the wind, the trip, the fall, but it becomes the cinder-block dragging you into the abyss. The object of your desire has become the shackles of your torment. Love is a lie and you fell for it.
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Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 12:31 PM UTC
Love is a lie.
A pair, north and south Whose love cancels each one’s doubts Find their way, always
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Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 11:28 AM UTC
Compass
There are two girls, best of friends, walking through life, hand in hand, quite opposites in many aspects, though each to the other, respects. One is pale, with hair spun gold, the other fair, with waves of night so bold. She has eyes with winter's mist, quite light, the other's reflect a sunflower against the sky, a delight. She of short height, the other tall, one so delicately framed, the other not at all. Though appearance wise, they're opposites still, through their minds, and souls, their will, they reflect the same, they of opposite seasons, they know each others lives, each others reasons, picking each other up, helping each other out, comforting each with sense of doubt; A most lovely foil'd pair, it would appear bringing out the best in each other, so rare, that neither cancels out the other, neither's the fighter while the other's the lover, Yes, this would be the best of matches, sprung from a perfect friendship's hatches, showing different people aren't different at all, and that friends are friends, even if not similar at all.
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Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 3:03 PM UTC
Seasonal Sisters
I hear the song My alarm Playing the radio The song I wish could belong To "us" not just me Beneath my lids his face appears Close to mine Watching me with childlike wonder As I sing to him the words I know by heart Somehow our clumsiness Cancels out My dress flowing around me And we appear graceful Then as the song comes close The end I knew would come, and was dreading, he pulls me close To hear the words I can't say above a whisper I love you I close my eyes. And he's gone The white blankness of my ceiling appears Under my blanket made in China Dressed in pajamas Waking from a dream of a prince Who will never come
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Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 3:40 AM UTC
Nonexistent Princes
Life goes on, or so they say Bad things are gonna happen anyway Come what may you can always drink the night away Dance and sing until it cancels out the day And every once in a while when reality gives way That's when you'll really feel at home So come on and raise your glass and sing Let's be young and let's be wreckless like we don't give a **** about anything Let's be wild for the whole world to see Let's laugh in the face of danger and smack the *** of mediocrity Pushing forward, making tracks Do the best you can so that you don't ever look back Pain doesn't hurt if you can just relax Do whatever gets you by until you fade to black But every once in a while when reality gives way That's when you'll really feel alone But then... One day... If you're lucky Just maybe love will find you standing at the bar. You'll look into those eyes You won't see the usual lies And you'll feel those things you never knew you could So come on and raise your glass and sing Let's be young and let's be wreckless like we don't give a **** about anything Let's be wild for the whole world to see Let's laugh in the face of danger and smack the *** of mediocrity Let's do anything we want to, raise a glass to those we miss Parents and siblings, friends and lovers And even people who habitually take the **** Be eternally grateful. Thank your lucky stars Because it's them that make us,us. And get another round in at the bar.
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Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 5:43 AM UTC
Another Round
There's a hole in my pocket where change used to be for one cup of coffee, the second one's free do I go where I'm led though I haven't a key and eat what I'm fed without question of fee? Across sits a friend who cares for my soul he fears for my safety, my wholeness his goal so without any greed or selfish intent he pays for my dinner and cancels the rent. He knew what I needed, like father knows best food, clothing, shelter, a clean place to rest I call him my savior, my king and the boss He won't take the glory but points to the cross. I soon find a job, and a home for my stuff it's all that I have but it's more than enough The courage to change what I could was the key the burden's been lifted, I'm finally free. Without faith in God I could easily fall back 'cause there's always that vice like a Big Mac attack tested and tempted I use what I've learned stick with The Truth and you're less often burned. So where are you now, and where have you been did you latch onto God, and spit out the sin? just take a deep breath, you're here 'til your death trust in the Lord and then start again fresh. There's change in my pocket where a hole used be for one cup of coffee, the second one's free
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Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 12:02 AM UTC
fresh start
My heart is severely bleeding My brain is sincerely pleading Both are by my soul affected And by cruel World are infected All are selfish to the core Justice all blatantly ignore They use ways that are unfair All insults they want me to bear I can surely call them highly peevish As they make me terribly feverish I am forced to suffer huge loss Deepest regrets they easily cause Their hearts contain poison They hate me under the Sun In case I throw a sad protest My action they seriously detest My sorrow has alarmingly grown Away from peace I am thrown My heart feels the worst pressure My anxiety cancels all the pleasure Ultimately to God alone I appeal I hope via Him I will win the deal God alone is my last resort I believe in His giving comfort Though at times I use profanity I know God makes my life pretty Only when God is by me trusted In life I get truly interested Human beings will easily cheat But, God alone will kindly treat That powerful force will act After gathering every fact To Him when I wholly surrender He will take care of my blunder He will surely offer great solace Safest path my life will embrace All evils God will finally massacre He will no doubt give soothing succor Only God will never double-cross He will definitely arrest every loss So I now pray and hopefully wait A solution via God I will soon sight. M V VENKATARAMAN
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Sep 5, 2010
Sep 5, 2010 at 12:23 AM UTC
Gone Is Thorny Agony