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Ralph Bobian Jul 2015
What can I tell you
About how I feel?
I can express I'm aware of every emotion,
And I know I need to heal.
I can tell you exactly where they came from
And what exactly caused them.
I can describe how they're so unbearably painful
And that I'm working to resolve them
I can explain in the most poetic and lyrically gifted way
How hard it is to face my emotions,
Each and every day.
I can weave my words on how I feel,
In ways that nobody can say
Just to make you comprehend the stress
That my mind and body pays

I’m a thousand miles from my own words
But the first to understand
It's like I'm fixing you a puzzle,
But the pieces are too far
from my reaching hand.
It's like I'm writing you a story,
But run out of ink to write the end.
It's like I'm without a paintbrush
Trying to paint an image in your head

So although I'm self-aware
Of every emotion that I've expressed
I'd rather be completely clueless,
And unaware instead.

Even though I can explain my emotions
Down to the finite and the specifics,
Even though
I can admit that I know
I've become undone and feel unfinished,
This entire time
I know you've tried,
But there's a point that you've been missing.
I want so badly to feel completed,
But the tools required

...are non-existent.
I feel everyone has a hard time expressing their emotions or even admitting or knowing that they need healing.  What I find even harder, being VERY self-aware of what's going on or knowing that things need to get better, and then you don't know how. That *****. This is for everyone lost in their own translation
Alyssa Underwood Aug 2017
“Come now, and let us reason together,”
Says the LORD,
“Though your sins are as scarlet,
They will be as white as snow;
Though they are red like crimson,
They will be like wool.
If you consent and obey,
You will eat the best of the land;
But if you refuse and rebel,
You will be devoured by the sword.”
Truly, the mouth of the LORD has spoken...
Come, house of Jacob, and let us walk in the light of the LORD.
~ Isaiah 1:18-20 & 2:5


Surely our griefs He Himself bore,
And our sorrows He carried;
Yet we ourselves esteemed Him stricken,
Smitten of God, and afflicted.
But He was pierced through for our transgressions,
He was crushed for our iniquities;
The chastening for our well-being fell upon Him,
And by His scourging we are healed.
All of us like sheep have gone astray,
Each of us has turned to his own way;
But the Lord has caused the iniquity of us all
To fall on Him.
~ Isaiah 53:4-6


“**! Everyone who thirsts, come to the waters;
And you who have no money come, buy and eat.
Come, buy wine and milk
Without money and without cost.
Why do you spend money for what is not bread,
And your wages for what does not satisfy?
Listen carefully to Me, and eat what is good,
And delight yourself in abundance.
Incline your ear and come to Me.
Listen, that you may live;
And I will make an everlasting covenant with you,
According to the faithful mercies shown to David...“
Seek the LORD while He may be found;
Call upon Him while He is near.
Let the wicked forsake his way
And the unrighteous man his thoughts;
And let him return to the LORD,
And He will have compassion on him,
And to our God,
For He will abundantly pardon.
“For My thoughts are not your thoughts,
Nor are your ways My ways,” declares the LORD.
“For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
So are My ways higher than your ways
And My thoughts than your thoughts.“
~ Isaiah 55:1-3,6-9


The Spirit of the LORD God is upon me,
Because the LORD has anointed me
To bring good news to the afflicted;
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
To proclaim liberty to captives
And freedom to prisoners;
To proclaim the favorable year of the LORD
And the day of vengeance of our God;
To comfort all who mourn,
To grant those who mourn in Zion,
Giving them a garland instead of ashes,
The oil of gladness instead of mourning,
The mantle of praise instead of a spirit of fainting.
So they will be called oaks of righteousness,
The planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified...
I will rejoice greatly in the LORD,
My soul will exult in my God;
For He has clothed me with garments of salvation,
He has wrapped me with a robe of righteousness,
As a bridegroom decks himself with a garland,
And as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.
For as the earth brings forth its sprouts,
And as a garden causes the things sown in it to spring up,
So the LORD God will cause righteousness and praise
To spring up before all the nations.
~ Isaiah 61:1-3,10-11
Alyssa Underwood May 2018
"The Struggle for Love"
"The Longing for Home"
So desperate to prove
That our hearts aren't alone

While death looms wherewith
To make dust of our flesh
We seek in a myth
Our souls to enmesh

With a hero of hope
A rescuing source
To widen our scope
And give pith to our course

An unshakable tie
An attachment at core
Which might silence the cry
That our hearts are at war

With a pure set of eyes
Full of fire and proficient
To dispel all the lies
That our souls aren't deficient

But it's not our mere lack
Which causes most dread
It's the earth-shattering fact
That our spirits are dead

Cut off from their Source
In a black alienation
Humanity's curse
For its rank ins'bordination

We just want our own way
And to write our own story
So we plunge on astray
To seek our own glory

To play artist or muse
Or idol or chief
Any self-styled ruse
To assuage us of grief

Any measure to show
A lasting signif'cance
So that someone would know
Our unique magnif'cence

For our beauty's been marred
And we crave a redemption
Of souls twisted and scarred
By fulfillment's exemption

But, alas, we will find
That search hard as we may
There's not one of our kind
Who can carry the tray

Upon which the weight
Of our souls has been laid
For who can e'er tolerate
Its gross debts unpaid?

Such suff'cating mass
Of defects and ills
Pressed 'gainst delicate glass
Of egos and wills

Still more ghastly to bear
Is devotion unbound
For with millstone to wear
Its master is drowned

'Neath a sea of foul yeast
And becomes the enslaved
To a hungering beast
To a worship depraved

For the heart is a tiger
And must have its fill
So it raises a man higher
With a kiss before the ****

Not intentionally, of course,
Does it slaughter its idol
But of hurricane force
Is this longing so vital

And as pedestal turns
So quickly to altar
Our wounded pride burns
When our gods and alms falter

And the fire of its rage
Turns upon its obsession
Tiger breaks out of cage
To reclaim self-possession

It bites and it tears
What it once so adored
And pride no longer cares
If it kills its false lord

But upon such demise
The soul screams in terror
For it's broken its prize
And can't take back its error

It begs and it pleads
To restore what's been lost
But at end knows it needs
To consider the cost

Of the damage untold
It has left in the wake
For hearts can't be controlled
With a gush or a shake

No, men's hearts are like bombs
Which so easily explode
Once the pin is removed
All past wrongs will re-load

So the prey becomes hunter
When the tiger attacks
For he does not want her
To see what he lacks

As he, too, had put
Her up in wrong place
But now steps his foot
Upon her shamed face

To now pulverize
As his own heart's been crushed
To blind out her eyes
And to see her lips hushed

For with words idly spoken
She'd stabbed at his soul
And had left his pride broken
By her judgments so cold

She had not meant to harm
Knew not e'en that he heard
But one cannot disarm
A thought put to word

Worse than not knowing this
She no longer knew him
And her once imagined bliss
Proved a nullified whim

Oh, what games and delusions
We play and we build
Upon empty illusions
And dreams unfulfilled

Yet strangely it's when
Our worst fears come true
We can finally transcend
All those old tales we grew

Out of ego and void
Out of sorrow and pain
When our nerves felt annoyed
And our hearts felt too vain

'Cause when ego is puffed
It is primed, too, to pop
And with pinprick is snuffed
Like a pest-blighted crop

So imagine much more
When a venom's injected
Right into its core
And its heart is rejected

But can you also not see
How it needs such a burst
To begin to get free
From its self-absorbed curse?

Except now feels the matter
Of our soul's isolation
Fiercer still with the shatter
Of our pet consolation

So we wait and we wonder
If we've missed the true meaning
Of the frightening thunder
In our heart's constant screaming

Whether homesick or lost
Whether lonely or grieved
Locked in bleak Winter's frost
We find little reprieve

Yet we know we've been made
For the glory of Spring
Some card's still to be played
Some grand song still to sing

Inexpressible yearning
For some secret we know
But can't speak for the burning
Repercussions of woe

Not some mere melancholy
Nor nostalgic forlorn
Not the musings of folly
But a sense that we're torn

From primordial root
And from headwaters fresh
Yet much deeper to boot
From our spiritual breath

'Tis an ache not for wares,
Appreciation or fame
But a fight just for air
Against strangling shame

For we're naked, we know
And with all we devise
Our most flawed parts still show
To a pure set of eyes

Like we're walking around
With no covering intact
But thin hospital gown
With wide split up the back

So we hide our true face
Aim to be what we're not
Work our blots to erase
Lest our schemes should be caught

Be 't by friend or by foe
We dare not risk the pain
Of humiliation's blow
On top of our stain

But instead of relief
Anguish grows louder till
This life's loneliest grief
Paralyzes the will

And last hope all but dies
On doubt's bed of despair
While embittered heart cries
That its lot's too unfair

Yet on outside we play
Through our unconscious mind
Man's collective charade
That everything's fine

Like some pact we'd all sworn
To uphold and obey
To protect from the scorn
Of society's sway

If we run with the flow
'Stead of strive 'gainst the tide
We might make enough show
To salvage our pride

We forget that conceit
Is what caused all the mess
Through a serpent's deceit
And a couple's wrong guess

'Twas they first tasted shame
And then hid in a garden
Sewing fig leaves as claim
To secure their own pardon

Yet in horror they knew
They had squandered the Prize
And must flee from the view
Of a pure set of eyes

Now same state of awry
Runs through each of their seed
Inborn and borne by
Like the thorniest ****

Whose nettles pierce deep
And infect every part
While roots tangle and sweep
Through the mind and the heart

It mocks what we've lost
Torments every dim hope
To constrict and accost
Like a noose-tightening rope

Still, hope won't be decayed
Smold'ring fires yet burn
Sparking hints that we're made
For bright Eden's return

This redemption we crave
Is no phantom's false plea
But as crestfallen wave
Hides itself in the sea

It's been veiled in plain sight
Big as all of our stories
Deep as mankind's full plight
And as high as its glories

Cloaked in every ambition
That we have to get in
To some exclusive coalition
For its favors to win

Lurks a bleeding predilection
Frustrated from birth
A desire for election
To bestow on us worth

Lured by scent of a promise
To be chosen and known
Like the warmth of a mom's kiss
Given only to her own

We search tree after tree
For sweet intimacy's nectar
From a fruit that will be
Our secret connecter

To hope's nourishing breast
To life's honey from comb
To an undying rest
To a straight way toward home

One to wipe away tears
And allay deepest doubt
Which proceeds from worst fears
Of our being locked out

Of a garden again
Cast from pure tree of life
Dim remembrance of when
Mankind first entered strife

All our conflicts, comp'tition,
Confusion and blame
Find first cause in perdition
That's invaded our frame

Like the foulest disease
The most cankerous rot
Grown by monstrous degrees
Hatched by Lucifer's plot

This story's no ****'s attack
Nor archaic folklore
But the earth-shattering fact
That our hearts are at war

With a pure set of eyes
Full of fire and proficient
To dispel all the lies
That our souls aren't deficient

And it's not our mere lack
which causes most dread
But the earth-shattering fact
That our spirits are dead

Cut off from their Source
In a black alienation
Humanity's curse
For it's rank ins'bordination


And yet...


This is also the story
Of how those same eyes
The Possessor of Glory
Looked with love and heart cries

On the crown of creation
His reflection of Self
Made His own treasured nation
The heirs of His wealth

Now broken and lost
All banished from Garden
And He knew the full cost
To grant them His pardon

Had known long before
He had e'er even made
That first man of yore
Yet handcrafts anyway

For His love is so strong
And He wanted to share
His intimacy with a throng
His own children to bear

So with souls in convulsion
From their rebellious misdeed
Just before their expulsion
He promised a Seed

One untainted from sin
Who could take its great boulder
And the weight of His kin
Upon His own shoulder

A Hero of hope
A rescuing Source
To widen our scope
And give pith to our course

An unshakable tie
An attachment at core
Who would silence the cry
That our hearts are at war

With a pure set of eyes
Full of fire and proficient
To dispel all the lies
That our souls aren't deficient

For those eyes are His own
And He'd pay the full fee
By His body alone
To set our hearts free

He's hope's nourishing breast
He's life's honey from comb
He's our undying rest
He's our straight way toward home

He will wipe away tears
And allay deepest doubt
Which proceeds from worst fears
Of our being locked out

Of the Garden again
Cast from pure Tree of Life
Dim remembrance of when
Mankind first entered strife

But 'twas on another tree
That sweet intimacy's nectar
Was secured tight when He
Became sacred Connector

And the thorns of our curse
Were pressed onto His head
With not one there to nurse
As the Son of Man bled

Then the wrath for our sin
Was absorbed as He cried
And the foul curse was broken
When the Son of God died

But death couldn't keep Him long
Nor His glory dispose
And we found our lost song
When the King of kings rose!

The debt had been paid
He had finished the work
The tide 'gainst us was swayed
We weren't left in our lurk

And we've only to now
Just repent and believe
To open and allow
Our hearts to receive

Our Divine Fountainhead
Our covering complete
To sup from His bread
And to sit at His feet

To worship the One
For Whom we were made
By Whom we've been won
Whom forever we've craved

The One Who can bear
Our hearts' full devotion
The One Who won't tear
At our souls' raw emotion

The One Who will be
Sweet eternity's song
Who with lasting decree
Will...right...every...wrong
~~~

First two lines taken from Timothy Keller sermon titles;
also inspired by his other sermons:
"The Breastplate of Righteousness"
"Blessed Self-Forgetfulness"
"The Sandals of Peace"
"The Wounded Spirit"

~~~

for more on this:
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2179517/the-gospel-of-jesus-christ/

~~~
Grace Spellman Sep 2017
i never did get to show you the poetry i wrote about you,
i never did get to kiss you as many times as i wanted,
and if i knew our last kiss was going to be our last
id go back and give you 100 more.

i found poetry within the knots of your hair,
and i found comfort within the warmth of your lips,
and if i wouldve known us doing this would have caused all this chaos
i would still do it all again
because youre worth it

-you were always worth it
written about a boy who broke my heart by the ocean.
Angel of Plymouth, your Winged Heart's inflame
Un-Grate this Laurel which merits your frown
At last you found her; Then enrich your name
So why wear the Shirt if it keeps you down?
Tarry me, please, to your Toried Reason
Which Pure Faith crippled to un-hook your Wings
Fill your Hour's Due; And renew your Season
Then know full well that her Telephone rings
And Live you considered to Sky's Content
Happily blessed by Hellen's Burning Brow
She caused your Curls; Which many Intent
Thus winning her Fortress Time did endow.
Remember this always with all Support
Those Frightened Moments need no more rapport.
#benjdaley
elaine May 2018
It took 15 years,
to realize
the hopeless nights I spent drowning myself with bottle
after bottle,
Was slowly rotting my body inside and out.

It took me 15 years,
To realize that
No one should have experience
your children  watch over you as you throw up leftover *****,
Being held up by little hands as I stumble around looking for the bedroom,
or slowly watching yourself tear apart a family because you are too full with the fact that you are the victim here in this situation.

It took me 15 years,
To realize,
I can never replace the moments I spent unconscious
Barely surviving a morning
Without a shot to get threw the day.

It took me 15 years,
To realize,
The pain I caused,
The hurt I felt,
The sorrow I provided,
And the hearts of loved ones I shattered.

It took me 15 years,
To realize
That I could live without a bottle in hand.

In that time,
I lost trust in many.
I messed up the family I loved.
I lost 15 years of life
But this wasn’t a message of my nightmare,
It’s a story of me
Finally
Waking
Up.
i wrote this for a research paper on alcoholism, and i was kind of proud of it, enjoy
DW Jan 2015
He watches the world through tear streaked eyes,
At the people just living their lives,
There was no one who cared or was even aware,
That their society was founded on lies,
It was the cruelty of man to man's fellow man,
That caused his young heart to break,
It filled him with sorrow to learn that tomorrow,
There was no difference or change he could make.

First there's the teen with no hopes or dreams,
Who holds the gun to his head,
If only we had heard that four letter word,
"Help" and he might not be dead,
But parents ignore a child's implore,
Move along there is nothing to see,
Then comes the day when he's taken away,
Pushed over the edge by the bully.

The starving young pup who lies all beaten up,
By the teenagers too cool for school,
They've come to learn that next it's their turn,
Drunk fathers are awfully cruel,
Or perhaps the poor homeless just hoping for kindness,
And ends up completely ignored,
We can grumble and shout from our comfy warm house,
That most likely, they're all just big frauds.

Then there comes war the thing all Governments adore,
They can line up their pockets with gold,
The war against terror? Or just the oil endeavour?
It doesn't matter soldiers do as they're told,
"An air strike for peace" is the press release,
As civilians are rained on by bombs,
Can they really believe that what's been achieved,
Is greater than the innocent lives that are gone?

He watches the world through tear streaked eyes,
At the people just living their lives,
There was no one who cared or was even aware,
That their society was founded on lies.
Gemma Apr 2018
Sick of you respecting the flower but not the
wind,  the rain , the mud
that caused it to grow.
Sick of you longing for talent
Yet spending
your "precious" time sobbing , alone at home .
My patience is waring as thin as my frame  
believe in life before death    &
try , then try again .
I soon noticed the Nature of your Smile
Even for Purpose that we have just Met
Still your Assignment to me was on-file
And Commitment the Creed which must be Set
Once that Moment I rejected my Cool
And caused some of my Friends to burn with me
Your Grin was there; Reminding me a Fool
To trade my Flesh for an Honest Duty
Are you a Promise, M'am? Not which must Break,
Then Tender the Papered Dread we all Fear
Yet this Nature-of-Calls are what Thoughts based
And tell our Clients what they want to Hear.
Poetry, my Madam, is not a Fad
Unless you open to the Moments you had.
Cay Genevro Sep 2015
She threw herself into heartbreak
like a moth drawn to a flame.
Then learned to heal the burns she had
& just jumped in again.

He became inflamed in sorrow,
but she said it kept her warm.
So he kept the flames of sadness lit,
even though it caused him harm.

In summer, they'd only wonder
why charred flowers wouldn't grow.
In winter, they'd only simmer
as they mistook the ash for snow.

Everyone tried to tell them,
but they never seemed to learn.
So how do you save two people
who are convinced they want to burn?
inspired by e.h.
Jessica LeVario Nov 2018
You seek redemption, when you have done nothing.
You seek forgiveness, when you have caused no one sorrow.
You seek love, when you can not even love yourself.
You seek normality, when you know you never will be.
You seek to be understood, because no one seems to get you.
You seek to be happy, when in reality you are suffocating.
You seek friendship, even though you are afraid of being abandoned.
You seek to be enough, when you know you never will be.
You seek to be vulnerable, but your walls are too high, and you trust too little.
You seek to fit in, to be liked, to please everyone, you try so hard, and you hate yourself for it.
You seek yourself, as I seek myself.

~ j.l.
I just want to be okay again.
Carter Ginter Apr 2013
Another one of those nights..
Surrounded by darkness in an attempt to hide from reality.
Blasted music to cover painful memories.
Just another night where music saves my life.
While the pain is no longer caused physically
There's nothing to stop my thoughts from taking control.
I'm dying inside, drowning in open water;
The music's the only thing keeping me afloat.
So as I lay here in the dark
With the volume increasing slowly,
Don't assume I don't care.
If I didn't, I wouldn't still be fighting the current.
Some act like just because you recover from self mutilation, that you're okay again. But really you just have to find a new way to deal with the same emotions. The same pain, the same rage. Less methods of escape.
To anyone who music has helped get through things, sometimes saving your life.
Stormy Grey Dec 2014
Let us run,
Let us hide,
Let us fade,
Along with the tide.
Within the sea,
She silently breathed,
The heavens were waiting,
Along with me.

Miss you she said
-looking up at the sky-
She turned her back,
And waved goodbye.
Submerged by the water,
Slowly she sinks
-Timeless and lifeless-
No seconds to think.

Slowly she drifts,
At peace at last.
Looking back at her life,
It sure was a blast.
What happened to her?
What went so wrong?
What caused her to go..
After so long?

The time has now ended,
Along with her pain.
She can now rest,
Can't be harmed again.

Stormy
To learn this gospel of that Birthing Home
A splendid way to start your own New House
Of your Man so proud; Dignity his own
Shows this Great Fixture of a Faithful Spouse
And I, envy-filled, toddlerish to Draft
To ask when my Best Time would ever come
You, Heroine's Pride, caused my Sorrows to Laugh
And boot this Troll for his Merriments done
Only for your Wish more Blessings invade
And never, ever Dream it should Resign
Which, termed Jolly, decomposed his best *****
And Danced with Gnomes your Prosperity fine.
Begging you, this Heart, please tell HER I Care
For the Flames I lit; My Penance I fare.
#toniacouch #couchhollie
Makenzie Marie Jul 2018
You’ve hardened me
And every silver bullet
you’ve lodged into my heart,
I’ve plucked out,
Enduring the pain
And built myself an armor
Out of your betrayal.

And You are not a Phoenix.
Your tears
Will not heal
the open wounds
you have caused
With your trifling talons.
You cannot fix this.
Keith Collard Nov 2015
How can I be the closest to the Earth, and still unknown,
How can I be the closest to the Sun, closest to the scorch,
and still have the most icy landlords in my poles,
why can you only see me during twilight, embracing a lover while all alone.

How come from my surface, light does not work--light does not hurt, I do not blink as I think, even as the sunset pours lava forth, and that sunset is that lie of time, as you disappear in darkness, I almost disappear in light, then the stars scream across the sky, in a geminid shower rewind, in my unblinking muse, in the solar hues, the great inferno retreats, and the slower speed of Earth I view, And I see the astrologer, with his useless scope, trying to track my path, futile as the priests trying to invent his gold.
They cannot understand my core, with machines that are perfect because I am perfectly mercurial on the surface,
with the intense cold of my poles, and the intense burning solar gold of my repose,   I view  blinding light, then infinite starry night, and cold dark logic they are encased in--my deep dark basins, and the rolling triumph of my surface's relief is from breathless sandy ovation beneath, for before my baron plains were slain and put to sleep, they braved the great inferno winning solar armor in golden fleece, for who can brave my extremes,
When my axix turns from cold still darkness to fusion heat,

But now is my region of my silver repose,  no ovation no gold, just the stoic silver shadow from the starlight strobe, the shadows slant from every surface at the angle of an open volume being studied, until my dark volumes close due to starlight directly above me, then my clock strikes the hour, when my surface is reinvested with power,  the oncoming of a sunset getting louder and louder, and in my face, cold lifeless blood,  and on my stare, intense solar flare,  watching graves start to to die, with the sunset looming, to sustain life by joining the great inferno's confusion, and becoming shadows from stars in my silver musing,

I am the twilight messenger--from my hazy theater of gaseous metal--where the applause  can't bear to sit,  to the hall of my cold dark temple with long dead stars keeping it faintly lit,  to be mercurial is my theater caused by applause, my temple's pale light of long dead stars.  It is the sadness of a fire that will never start--my annual Parthenon in short lived geminid sparks.
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