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"checkpoints" poems
sages and brethren gather, and share and slowly souls are bared their tempered voices and quiet eyes reserved of judgment with passing smiles moments blend in current trends opinions wide and reflections deep the concepts and irregularities once murky now clear they prioritize and familiarize that staunch resolution of generation net will remunerate and illuminate through the checkpoints and formal reviews through the purple curtains and open stage nothing tainted or bitter left for taste cause its they who’ll plant the seeds the captains of commerce healers and jugglers the coaches and councilors negotiators and compromisers the kings and queens hustlers and hellcats (who've all found their way!) let us tip our hats and salute them*
0
Dec 2, 2017
Dec 2, 2017 at 2:05 PM UTC
copper robes and iron rings
At the Zoo Patriots and faux exhibit and binge on synonyms of liberty printed on beer and underwear Advertising what should be unspoken and inspired to pervert and romanticize Preludes to the parades and finale above us all Weeks of saturated irony Cuckoo bird irony and BBQ As they reform Phoenix, rebirth of distractions and thievery Predators in ally ways pursing America's diamonds and legs Then gunpowder Gunpowder of colors and cuckoos Layers of streets in gunpowder Towns built of gunpowder Sky is gunpowder We are born addicted to led and gunpowder Gunpowder ****** in the air Success, display and diversion and more gunpowder to ingest. The Grand Finale The Volta of the evening The hammer of the judge *** appeal of death and nature flexing it's muscles-   show us some skin! Covering your ears Eyes fastened- Ready to burrow back to mothers womb Binged and free Chinese celebration hijacked Red, White and Blue And a moment of silence   Orchestrated onomatopoeia in heaven Chorus of arousal on Earth Band marching war machines in hell The showdown of 241 years! This freedom we are all grateful to only talk about Only free to battle shackling intoxication Men and women tugging extra weighted offspring Sulking for indoors and portable addiction   Chanting three letter obedience God being counted by his blessings Fear and Statism in every breathe for salvation from our stick swatted enemies Checkpoints that serve and protect asking for a toll; liberty synonyms. Arresting the too free At the Zoo, The cuckoos regaining reality. The phoenix red eye and held under oath To the next day where we are back To hate each others freedom, again.
0
Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 1:31 AM UTC
4
At the Zoo Patriots and faux exhibit and binge on synonyms of liberty printed on beer and underwear Advertising what should be unspoken and inspired to pervert and romanticize Preludes to the parades and finale above us all Weeks of saturated irony Cuckoo bird irony and BBQ As they reform Phoenix, rebirth of distractions and thievery Predators in ally ways pursing America's diamonds and legs Then gunpowder Gunpowder of colors and cuckoos Layers of streets in gunpowder Towns built of gunpowder Sky is gunpowder We are born addicted to led and gunpowder Gunpowder ****** in the air Success, display and diversion and more gunpowder to ingest. The Grand Finale The Volta of the evening The hammer of the judge *** appeal of death and nature flexing it's muscles-   show us some skin! Covering your ears Eyes fastened- Ready to burrow back to mothers womb Binged and free Chinese celebration hijacked Red, White and Blue And a moment of silence   Orchestrated onomatopoeia in heaven Chorus of arousal on Earth Band marching war machines in hell The showdown of 241 years! This freedom we are all grateful to only talk about Only free to battle shackling intoxication Men and women tugging extra weighted offspring Sulking for indoors and portable addiction   Chanting three letter obedience God being counted by his blessings Fear and Statism in every breathe for salvation from our stick swatted enemies Checkpoints that serve and protect asking for a toll; liberty synonyms. Arresting the too free At the Zoo, The cuckoos regaining reality. The phoenix red eye and held under oath To the next day where we are back To hate each others freedom, again.
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47
Naked body scanners Internal checkpoints Peaceful protesters maced GMO unlabeled Depopulation through vaccination Half of America under sedation ..I can barely stomach today's headlines
0
Oct 5, 2012
Oct 5, 2012 at 2:12 AM UTC
Wait,We have Rights?
Explosions in the sky That certain rush of words covered with ideas I am not so afraid of That simple touch of a pen poets picture as their current heaven And heaven lies within the lies where real people exist and in-concrete dust flies And flies surround the inner spaces between my heart and yours Those inter dimensional cracks that keep us alive together Yet those same cracks cause the Explosions in the sky When a million thoughts tremble under shattered glass And glass becomes rain over a nation That had no occupation A station Where all the emotions find a leak Where all the leaks lead to leisure The flood of blood narrated to form a spring out of Arab's fall And freedom is attained with the sound of Explosions in the sky When betrayal becomes the living scenario of a very normal human being Who believed that his sanctuary is in unison with his sanctions Strategies structured his not so subtle approach And after that he fell into her Explosions in the sky When a man loses his vision upon a mild smile When a cry for help becomes an invite for suicide Come…help me be the Portrait of clay you'll form with your delicate hands Shape my image And imagine a shape for my form Form a set for me to follow Follow my moves for if I fall of your track Track me back to the first point The playstation of life saves checkpoints Yet my life is full of glitches… For when I look at you I am supposed to be looking at you But all I'm seeing is Explosions in the sky When a trouble-free man becomes the complex notion of a firework Those little pieces of fiery smoke Grabs it And smokes the last buds of life out of his people The governor governing the covers he created To alienate the truth I found in your eyes And I shall never be mislead Instead I shall be steadfast and ready For you I shall be ready for you And your Explosions in the sky When a poet has no words left to write In the right time Literally the speaker is speechless He's too busy wondering in total observation The explosions… The explosions we create The skies that unveil And that little feeling of satisfaction With the last bits of an ink written Poem.
0
Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 7:09 PM UTC
Explosions in the Sky:
Explosions in the sky That certain rush of words covered with ideas I am not so afraid of That simple touch of a pen poets picture as their current heaven And heaven lies within the lies where real people exist and in-concrete dust flies And flies surround the inner spaces between my heart and yours Those inter dimensional cracks that keep us alive together Yet those same cracks cause the Explosions in the sky When a million thoughts tremble under shattered glass And glass becomes rain over a nation That had no occupation A station Where all the emotions find a leak Where all the leaks lead to leisure The flood of blood narrated to form a spring out of Arab's fall And freedom is attained with the sound of Explosions in the sky When betrayal becomes the living scenario of a very normal human being Who believed that his sanctuary is in unison with his sanctions Strategies structured his not so subtle approach And after that he fell into her Explosions in the sky When a man loses his vision upon a mild smile When a cry for help becomes an invite for suicide Come…help me be the Portrait of clay you'll form with your delicate hands Shape my image And imagine a shape for my form Form a set for me to follow Follow my moves for if I fall of your track Track me back to the first point The playstation of life saves checkpoints Yet my life is full of glitches… For when I look at you I am supposed to be looking at you But all I'm seeing is Explosions in the sky When a trouble-free man becomes the complex notion of a firework Those little pieces of fiery smoke Grabs it And smokes the last buds of life out of his people The governor governing the covers he created To alienate the truth I found in your eyes And I shall never be mislead Instead I shall be steadfast and ready For you I shall be ready for you And your Explosions in the sky When a poet has no words left to write In the right time Literally the speaker is speechless He's too busy wondering in total observation The explosions… The explosions we create The skies that unveil And that little feeling of satisfaction With the last bits of an ink written Poem.
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61
Wailing walls, howling fences Encaged and blocked by barriers All smashed, sorted in security fence Miles of humanity and flesh torn apart Why is it that we can’t live together? We bleed the same coagulating blood Lined up and humiliated in alleyways Paths of iron bars and imprisonment My veins wringed, intensive torment Mentally distracted, strained by grief Settlement, conflicts and border struggles Governance, religious trickles of disunion The biblical birthright verses human rights The unsighted straining peace settlement Shadows of the peace blueprint screams Ongoing reconciliation, milked in small doses Whose home is whose? Subdivided in areas Controls of disillusionment undisclosed Unmanned checkpoints evokes fears Revolving cameras tossed and turned Bansky slogan “make hummus not war” Smashes freedom to uproot  and merge Constitute and construct peaceful resorts All horns blowing to collapse duality
0
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 2:08 PM UTC
Bawling West-Bank Barrier
Do be sure all passengers are comfortable Human and not quite human alike Don't ask non-human passengers to be in charge of the map Those from the sea especially Do try to entertain your passengers Your idiocy will surely do Don't act suspiciously when trying to avoid checkpoints and borders Police officers are not stupid Do make sure your passengers are well cared for and given everything they need Even the comatose ones Don't. Ever. Stop. Driving. Do hope you get there in time
0
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC
Road Trip
Welcome To Egypt You want to know what a military dictator ship is? Checkpoints at every crossing, police disrespecting the citizens, guns gripped tightly in the hands of teenagers, bleached white suits with fake brass stars. Welcome to Egypt. You want to know what becomes of fallen empires? Dusty streets of broken dreams and failed endeavors, uptight men in loose jellabiyas hawking Chinese made junk, descendants of kings catering to the whims of ignorant tourist, and a once pristine river now so ***** it’s dangerous to swim in. Welcome to Egypt. You want to know what irony is? Here denial is a double entendre, it’s a river and a state of mind, where the people can’t see they are biting, the very hand that feeds them. Welcome to Egypt. You want to know what it’s really like here? Well I was just harassed today, accused by the police of trying to pray, because in Egypt it is illegal to pray or even meditate, I had to threaten to call the US Embassy before I was allowed to go on my way. Welcome to Egypt. You want to know what the real atrocity is? The States gives this country over a billion dollars a year, but the people that really need the money don’t see a single pound, the money is used to further oppress the people, and anyone that tries to stand up for their rights is beaten down. Welcome to Egypt. You want to know what happened to democracy? The Muslim Brotherhood won the election, then the military staged a coup, kicked out the democratically elected government, and assassinated anyone that dared to speak the truth. Welcome to Egypt. You want to know what the real Egypt is about? Come witness the horror for yourself, mothers dying in doorways children eternally crying, horses beaten to death in 106˚ heat, then left for dead no burial for the dying. Welcome to Egypt. You want to know what equality is here? What equality woman have to cover everything up, wearing all black in a torturing heat, and if I man tries to hold a woman’s hand, then they both get rounded up by the Moral Police. Welcome to Egypt. You want to know how bad it really is? People die every day on boats trying to escape, desperately attempting to flee this god forsaken country, what a travesty and shame it all is, how poor this country’s become that was once so wealthy. Welcome to Egypt. You want to know the truth? The oppression is so bad in Egypt, that anyone that says anything about that, can disappear courtesy of the secret police, seriously it happened to my dear friends dad. Welcome to Egypt. You want to know what? Luckily I am not Egyptian, so I can escape this country that’s become a prison, leaving in a few hours and to anyone that’s considering a visit, I’m leaving behind this welcome warning here that I’ve written. Welcome to Egypt. ∆ Aaron La Lux ∆ The Holy Trilogy Vol. 1 available worldwide 11/11/16
0
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 4:35 AM UTC
Welcome To Egypt
Welcome To Egypt You want to know what a military dictator ship is? Checkpoints at every crossing, police disrespecting the citizens, guns gripped tightly in the hands of teenagers, bleached white suits with fake brass stars. Welcome to Egypt. You want to know what becomes of fallen empires? Dusty streets of broken dreams and failed endeavors, uptight men in loose jellabiyas hawking Chinese made junk, descendants of kings catering to the whims of ignorant tourist, and a once pristine river now so ***** it’s dangerous to swim in. Welcome to Egypt. You want to know what irony is? Here denial is a double entendre, it’s a river and a state of mind, where the people can’t see they are biting, the very hand that feeds them. Welcome to Egypt. You want to know what it’s really like here? Well I was just harassed today, accused by the police of trying to pray, because in Egypt it is illegal to pray or even meditate, I had to threaten to call the US Embassy before I was allowed to go on my way. Welcome to Egypt. You want to know what the real atrocity is? The States gives this country over a billion dollars a year, but the people that really need the money don’t see a single pound, the money is used to further oppress the people, and anyone that tries to stand up for their rights is beaten down. Welcome to Egypt. You want to know what happened to democracy? The Muslim Brotherhood won the election, then the military staged a coup, kicked out the democratically elected government, and assassinated anyone that dared to speak the truth. Welcome to Egypt. You want to know what the real Egypt is about? Come witness the horror for yourself, mothers dying in doorways children eternally crying, horses beaten to death in 106˚ heat, then left for dead no burial for the dying. Welcome to Egypt. You want to know what equality is here? What equality woman have to cover everything up, wearing all black in a torturing heat, and if I man tries to hold a woman’s hand, then they both get rounded up by the Moral Police. Welcome to Egypt. You want to know how bad it really is? People die every day on boats trying to escape, desperately attempting to flee this god forsaken country, what a travesty and shame it all is, how poor this country’s become that was once so wealthy. Welcome to Egypt. You want to know the truth? The oppression is so bad in Egypt, that anyone that says anything about that, can disappear courtesy of the secret police, seriously it happened to my dear friends dad. Welcome to Egypt. You want to know what? Luckily I am not Egyptian, so I can escape this country that’s become a prison, leaving in a few hours and to anyone that’s considering a visit, I’m leaving behind this welcome warning here that I’ve written. Welcome to Egypt. ∆ Aaron La Lux ∆ The Holy Trilogy Vol. 1 available worldwide 11/11/16
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69
Orange skies alight above urban blight blinking motherboard of these city lights the circuits begin fraying all these alleys lead away from me I'm only out for the time it takes for messy thoughts to catch clean escapes at bus stops and in dive bars, lonely strides scuffling on sidewalks save me something just one ******* bite run-off melts were raging, I aged fast floating through city streets at night And I---- ----Keep on glancing at my wristwatch tugging collars, setting time bombs. Doors are locked after the last call I'll head home, turn my bed down let my head assess the damage while I dream Ashen nights are mine to walk borderlines off-rhyme steps enjambed as the clocks unwind I tick off all the checkpoints; all the scotch sinks and the gin joints send me something call or text to just say hi arctic fronts converging I'll be excavating frozen feet all night Slip and fall out on the sidewalk on a frozen pool of puke I'm growing Old and so detached and I am losing all context But, when the Springtime rolls around I'll shave my face, stick out my neck until again I'm winding watches, strolling sidewalks, naming faces and the lines erased tell tales.
0
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 1:10 PM UTC
Shades in the Motherboard
I went to the airport today , as my mom was traveling I was there my sister ,my father and we kept doing our goodbyes as my father expressed how much he will miss her about 10 times .. even though she's coming back in a week. While I was sitting there a man caught my eye he was with a lady a smaller asian lady , she was dressed very simply looks like she doesn't have much, her hair was messy .. she doesn't seem to care about how she looks , he was pushing her from her hand joint and not her actual hand .. his grip firm .. like she was a stray dog and he was containing her from runing wild . He was dressed more decently and he seemed from the gulf and he  seemed like he wanted to get this over with .. he kept pushing her as my eyes involuntarily followed their every move he had a passport in his hand seemed hers and a small bag .. no luggage. I saw her passing throught the    checkpoints and I lost them for a while Finally it was time to leave my mom at the check point where only the travelers can pass .. that's when I saw that lady again and the security was behind her again guiding her like a stray puppy to the man who happened to be next to me .. the security handed her over to the man who didn't seem so happy to see her again as the security said " the captin won't allow her on his flight like this, she needs to wake up from whatever she's in" ... that's when I lost them again as my mother was waving to us the final wave I got occupied by waving back and then watched her leave .finally we decided to leave the airport and for the last time I found the lady agian sitting alone starring into the ground her head waving back and forth like her neck was not strong enough to hold her head .. as I saw the man leaving the airport door with a key in his hand .. he left the bag and passport with her and left .. and we left too But she stayed there Unaware and rejected lost but no one was searching
0
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 8:35 AM UTC
what happened at the airport
I went to the airport today , as my mom was traveling I was there my sister ,my father and we kept doing our goodbyes as my father expressed how much he will miss her about 10 times .. even though she's coming back in a week. While I was sitting there a man caught my eye he was with a lady a smaller asian lady , she was dressed very simply looks like she doesn't have much, her hair was messy .. she doesn't seem to care about how she looks , he was pushing her from her hand joint and not her actual hand .. his grip firm .. like she was a stray dog and he was containing her from runing wild . He was dressed more decently and he seemed from the gulf and he  seemed like he wanted to get this over with .. he kept pushing her as my eyes involuntarily followed their every move he had a passport in his hand seemed hers and a small bag .. no luggage. I saw her passing throught the    checkpoints and I lost them for a while Finally it was time to leave my mom at the check point where only the travelers can pass .. that's when I saw that lady again and the security was behind her again guiding her like a stray puppy to the man who happened to be next to me .. the security handed her over to the man who didn't seem so happy to see her again as the security said " the captin won't allow her on his flight like this, she needs to wake up from whatever she's in" ... that's when I lost them again as my mother was waving to us the final wave I got occupied by waving back and then watched her leave .finally we decided to leave the airport and for the last time I found the lady agian sitting alone starring into the ground her head waving back and forth like her neck was not strong enough to hold her head .. as I saw the man leaving the airport door with a key in his hand .. he left the bag and passport with her and left .. and we left too But she stayed there Unaware and rejected lost but no one was searching
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6
There is something intrinsically enchanting about traveling— Meeting small destinies, Feeling the flow of life sweep you along— It’s not all about running away, Or where you end up, Or how fast you go— Rather, it’s about the actual act of Moving Forward. You sit in the car, or on the plane, or in the back of someone’s pickup, and you can see the landscape undergo its natural metamorphosis again and again Into unique multifaceted checkpoints down the list of Things To Experience: People to laugh with, Hands to hold, Memories to make… I look out into the alternating horizon and see ‘Opportunity’ spelled out in the clouds. I look out and can see all the reasons why I should just Take to the wind, Flit and float across vast spaces of life— Set free my spirit of all societal burden for the sake of introspective sentience and honest self-discovery— I get the appeal; I have tasted from the goblet that decadent ambrosia, That flavor by which coats and balms my self-criticizing soul— Soothing away all the hack marks, The pocks and nicks and dents that blemish and tarnish the delicate skin protecting my psyche— I am healed by travel, By taking life seriously as that journey by which to merely ‘enjoy the ride’, By making a literal journey out of life, (Via journeying.) Ah, even as I drive onward, Even as I am propelled ever forward along the Devil’s Backbone, and Montezuma’s Castle, chasing the setting sun, I am already thirsting for more
0
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 11:51 AM UTC
Wanderlust
There is something intrinsically enchanting about traveling— Meeting small destinies, Feeling the flow of life sweep you along— It’s not all about running away, Or where you end up, Or how fast you go— Rather, it’s about the actual act of Moving Forward. You sit in the car, or on the plane, or in the back of someone’s pickup, and you can see the landscape undergo its natural metamorphosis again and again Into unique multifaceted checkpoints down the list of Things To Experience: People to laugh with, Hands to hold, Memories to make… I look out into the alternating horizon and see ‘Opportunity’ spelled out in the clouds. I look out and can see all the reasons why I should just Take to the wind, Flit and float across vast spaces of life— Set free my spirit of all societal burden for the sake of introspective sentience and honest self-discovery— I get the appeal; I have tasted from the goblet that decadent ambrosia, That flavor by which coats and balms my self-criticizing soul— Soothing away all the hack marks, The pocks and nicks and dents that blemish and tarnish the delicate skin protecting my psyche— I am healed by travel, By taking life seriously as that journey by which to merely ‘enjoy the ride’, By making a literal journey out of life, (Via journeying.) Ah, even as I drive onward, Even as I am propelled ever forward along the Devil’s Backbone, and Montezuma’s Castle, chasing the setting sun, I am already thirsting for more
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32
heart weighs heavy like a rifle. scope vision obscured shades of humanity, blurred peripheral targets in the near distance. loud foreign frantic phrases, similar tones back home, borderlines, checkpoints to pass to get back to your own. Long way to go. bullets, bombs explode. shrapnel brings us back to task. in a flash, bangs - commonplace, comrades mates, a fine line, between me and the enemy. Take me back to the catacombs, Crushed skulls, broken dreams. Declared conflict, conscripted kids. Join the battle with me. Are you ready to die?
0
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 3:53 AM UTC
warzone
First things first, you’ll have to remove your hat and the plank strapped to your limbs. Your body will be used to thumb-wrestle with gravity. Please remove the staples from your chest. Find your new set of lungs. There is space to breathe here. Take this new heart. You’ll beat slower, suspended. Circadian rhythms will not help you. Your body will become a willow in a storm, never breaking. There are no mistakes here. You’ll learn to drink silence for sustenance, washed down with madness and tepid water. You’ll learn to compensate for lacking conversation, hold secret meetings in the basement of your mind. You’ll learn how to disappear in a room. No matter how hard you pound against walls they remain padded, concealed behind billowing drapery. No one will hear you. But, you’ll fit in fine. You’ll stretch your skin as a tattooed leotard. You won’t grow up, You’ll grow inward fortifying your lungs with weeds. L’appel du vide, your distinctive urge to jump down from high places will be quelled by the grace in lifting. Take respite, There is nothing left to destroy here. There are no checkpoints to neglect. There is no need to be a hero. Still, you’re not convinced this is so much better.
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Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 2:22 PM UTC
maddness
The Sunni minority were marginalized Sectarian killings were commonplace In 2012 alone, There were more than 1,600 deaths The interviewer talked to a motorcycle gang They said they wanted freedom But some said they missed the way things were Under Saddam Hussein Some would trade the freedom they had For the stability of Hussein's regime The Shiah cleric Says there is an assault on Iraq Exemplified by the copying of corrupt Western culture. The cleric wanted to eliminate American influence Of any kind Checkpoints make getting Around the city a hassle Subcultures in Iraq are under attack Rap, metal, emo, and classical All are looked down on Gays are persecuted The military uses a faulty device That is supposed to detect bombs But has been proven not at all effective The city exists between extremes There is the religious extreme And people who want to be westernized Without understanding what that is The infrastructure was ruined by the war Hopefully life will get better As they continue to rebuild the infrastructuree
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Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 5:05 AM UTC
10 Years After the Invasion of Iraq
you store olden clothes in rear closets smaller size doesn't fit but you're slow to release it you drip golden particles from under the sleeves blue scent just soaked in he couldn't move on red wine bottles grow dusty waiting for someone to slop it all over the floor I see three-year race was puzzling five-star, I still chime you to slip back in my door laying eyes on all my sweaters through lens you scan breaches in my polished facets sticked out are the tiniest strings busy streets are our checkpoints same curly haircuts and same curvy outfits all facets of yours in a walking men haven't told you you booked rent-free place in my wardrobes when squeezing your hand but man, you're stale as bread too **** you blue smell from that dressing room
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Feb 10, 2021
Feb 10, 2021 at 5:37 PM UTC
old clothes
i have no right to have feelings. i tried to smuggle them past the checkpoints, metal detectors and such, but i was foiled, tarred and feathered. A big ******* chicken. Awesome. If i had feelings, i would have no right to allow them to be hurt. I am the giver of hurt, not the receiver. Things are not hurtful to me, for i have asked for them and knew what i asked. Happy Days. i should not discuss feelings i don't have or hurt i don't feel with anyone, for any reason, because i have no reason. i should be grateful to be stoic and rejoice in the fruits of my labors. When or if i cry, it is only because there is something in my eye, a speck of sand or something like it. Merely a body's natural cleansing action, a normal automatic response. i don't feel alone when i cry. besides, i chose to be alone, that is why i walked away in the first place. Isn't it?
0
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 3:34 PM UTC
How to be a better husband for a bat-shit crazy wife
The way to win a race                                                                                                                                  You have to start somewhere                                                         There has to be somewhere to begin There may be checkpoints along the way                                                                                                  Hurdles and Speed Bumps                                                                  Granted-- No one said it would ever be easy                                                                                                  No one ever promised that you wouldn't sweat But shouldn't everyone at least have a cheering section?                                                            Someone to chant your name People to sing your praises                                                                                                                                                                In the end All                                                               that                    really                                                                                        matters                                                                                                                                                       is                                                    that             you                                                      won                                                                                           your                                                                                                                                       own race                                                      No matter who kept moving the finish line.
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Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 9:22 PM UTC
Finish Line
The way to win a race                                                                                                                                  You have to start somewhere                                                         There has to be somewhere to begin There may be checkpoints along the way                                                                                                  Hurdles and Speed Bumps                                                                  Granted-- No one said it would ever be easy                                                                                                  No one ever promised that you wouldn't sweat But shouldn't everyone at least have a cheering section?                                                            Someone to chant your name People to sing your praises                                                                                                                                                                In the end All                                                               that                    really                                                                                        matters                                                                                                                                                       is                                                    that             you                                                      won                                                                                           your                                                                                                                                       own race                                                      No matter who kept moving the finish line.
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23
I am 8 checkpoints on a world map I am red curtains filtering sunlight into soft pink washes on bedroom walls I am the elephant (lover) in the room I am want of knowledge I am a poet I am french lavendar and cotton pajamas I am sharp and unwelcoming I am black coffee I am full of knowledge I am a daughter, a sister, a cousin, a granddaughter, and a care giver I am an adult I am a student I am an avid listener of 60s folk music I am a terrible listener I am a well presented mess I am a performer I am terrified I am not decisive I am not ready I am not young I am not unaware I am not an extravert I am not a poet the fragments that make up a human are often broken and many memories and aspirations Inspirations dedications liberations the fragments are only fragments the human announces and defines it itself introduces itself I am human I am me c.d.
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Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 2:02 AM UTC
i am
i don’t claim to set the boundaries on my freedom. checkpoints tend to become distractions the trees shapeshift in the night buried deep in the sinking kingdom frightfully stirring, unconsciously aligning through permeable borders forwards cowards onwards or bend backwards a gripped touch shuffled past emotions, lowering and cowering concealed by a brash rhythm.   subtle inclinations shiver your frown freedom can be locked in a box unruled. the kingdom with a forgotten crown and a lonely clown not fooled. What you made will fade. Like the sun creating shade.
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Nov 16, 2011
Nov 16, 2011 at 1:50 AM UTC
Night Thinks
He believes that everything transcribed for a purpose That every moment that came to be, Has taken him through impactful checkpoints Has guided him to me. We walk around lost a while, With no physical map. Just two kids adulting Cautious not to fall into some kind of trap. We are on a trapeze now sensing no fear, we twirl and dance Not haven’t had much luck in the world of romance We are not afraid to fall now, But more so afraid of not taking up on this chance.
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Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 1:46 PM UTC
Fine Line
Will you lose yourself in a maze with me? A lot of steps and checkpoints, Eight foot tall walls of corn stalks. And secluded circles where the paths don't lead. Split off from the rest of humanity, Just us in that labyrinth. Will you go with me?
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Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 10:09 AM UTC
A Formal Invitation
Our minds will continue to race evermore. Most will circuit exhaustingly around the same tract; repetitively crossing the same checkpoints. However very few are ****** with the judgement of dissatisfaction even whilst nudging at the summit of enlightenment; he who will perpetually bring enthusiastic evolution onto society.
0
Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 4:34 AM UTC
Lets Race not Race
when you left, i stopped believing in second chances however, i started realizing what terminals and checkpoints are for
0
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 9:17 AM UTC
X.