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"childly" poems
I'm just listening to Counting Crows, and I get this feeling, That I am so close to understanding, Something, myself? Something. And it leads to this eerie feeling of contentedness, In the darkness. But I'm just a step behind, And the more I think, the more... I lose my way, The more I question, instead of listen. But it scares me to let such a moment pass, without pursuing... it. Whatever it is. Poetry? I think not, Just splutter along the road of my soul. Sure to be meaningless in the end, but, Looking at it now, looking back a bit... Oh to be **** half in the past, And nirvana just out there, A bit further along the way. Almost childly, I blindly, Reach my hand out and up, Hoping that I'll be able to grasp the Sun, As if I won't get burnt, That since it seems so close, I just need to grasp, and the world will be mine. But some things are not for mortals. And demons, like kids, Must too, one day, Wake up.
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Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 2:04 AM UTC
Listening
Here I am on the hedge, Amidst the forest of doubt, One who've sworn not to pledge, Proudly wear my shroud. There's night in my head And smoke in my guts, Nothing's clear to my mind, Porcelain is my heart. With a black tooth grin Bear mysery crown With my soul in the wind And my faith in the ground. Eyes - by chance fallen leaves Under the bushes of eyebrows, Fulvous brown and grass green Hidden in the shrubs' shadows. Dead pale skin covers me, Brown ivy curls down my shoulders. There's blue blood in my veins And I greet you, beholder. Childly mushy cheeks Rubbed by claws of white, Full of shudder twists Hope to thrill your mind. Preying on your smiles, Drinking up your breaths. Forgive me for a while Lack of wings on my back.
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Aug 10, 2016
Aug 10, 2016 at 1:31 PM UTC
Self Portrait
There're endless ways to write give vent to a joy or to pain heavy stuff or childly light sunshine or broken sky's rain. It depends on the day the mood good times or bad on the way shapes the words your attitude color them the way you want to say. Endless are the ways to fill the page rhythm and structure and rhyme clear as daylight or a maze depends how you're treated by the time. You choose from the collage endless words that may sadden entertain when broken you may choose to show a face that by lighting smiles lessens your pain.
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Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 10:20 AM UTC
From the Endless Ways
i am threatened by someone: every day in my head behind my eyes behind my flesh in the land of my soul there lives a dictator to whom i listened far too long this dictator wants to **** me fully and entirely it may sound contradictory: i do not hate him since he is weak and overfilled with doubts his shouts are coming from my childhood; he looks similar as i looked when i was four years old. (only similar, uuuuuh yeeah) the child-like dictator is disguised in a dress of childly needs. his spirit is not spiritual. he is only child-like: a copy. and his insidious siren calls: now they sound like the voice of a lonely man. believe me, child-like dictator: i do tolerate you as a part of myself. be certain, dictator: i won't follow your ideas, needs and orders. you may stay. i walk freely.
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Dec 16, 2019
Dec 16, 2019 at 10:31 AM UTC
THE CHILD-LIKE DICTATOR (FIRST NAME: ADDICT) PART I
I wish I had a chance to go back To the days where I was a child Those days where I never kept track And where I used to see the dreams which are wild I want to go back to those days again Where the consequences of my actions were not much to be taken care My sins would wash away like the dust after the first rain And I was relieved of the troubles an adolescence had to bear When I was experiencing childhood little did I know I would grow up so fast And undergo a sudden shift in my perspective and views Looking back at those days I'm astonished to know all my childly experiences are past Memories about the forgotten episodes is like an ocean of happiness where I would want to cruise Time is like a glacier and glaciers don't go around I want to do wonders so that in the future I can look back at myself with happiness mount My past should be my company when there's no one around I should start acting on the present cause every action count
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Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 1:13 PM UTC
I Wish I Was A Child Again
That time. That time when I felt in… What, how could be happen to me? Not now, not now please! I can’t see anything else just… somebody is going to help me? It hurts but when I see that smile and those eyes I fell like a big block of antarctic ice slowly melting down for the first time. Is this…? Please let not this happen to me. I can’t do it. I’m scared. Of what? Don’t know. It’s just my dreamly childly romantic way to see things. I believed to all those tails and I’m too scared of the chance of a never happy ending
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Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 4:59 AM UTC
SCARED OF
*When the evening glimmers day slowly turns dead I peek at my watch sweet six in my head Walk in windy sprint in cheerful childly gait To reach home in time meet you sweet mate! When the few hours seeming like weeks Roll out prolonged till they reach six I pick up my bag leave the tedium behind To reach home in time my sweet mate in mind! When the day unfolds bland time slowly ticks The clock acts too lazy to reach the magic six I hold on the belief the evening won’t be late To ferry me in time to my waiting sweet mate! When nothing seems to tick except my weary watch As it trundles into six I say thank you very much For though you ran so lazy reached six at any rate To tell the time is ripe to rush home for sweet mate! When each hour passes mundanely alike Work drags slowly painting the day prosaic Past its burned hours beyond the toil’s sweat Chimes the magical six it’s time for sweet mate!*
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Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 6:58 AM UTC
Time & She
(a follow-up) Those days, I could still recall clearly When, I did not feel warm hands That would catch me if I ever fell When I took my first steps as a baby... When I had no one to take me to school on my first day Had to cope with fear through my own childly ways, I did many other firsts in my life, On my own, Without the warmth and caring presence of My father.... Somehow, a notion came about... And I reflected long on it... This is an Epiphany in my late summer years... Those days I was without him physically, Were the moments I strongly felt his presence... He would be--- In front of me Beside me Behind me, All those times, taking care of me The only way he could: By invisibly watching over me... While my mother was at work, While I was playing, While in school, While growing up as a teenager... When my safety was jeopardized, He was very much with me... In my dreams, he would comfort me... Talk to me, assuage my fears... Even wanted to take me with him, To save me... And yet, he didn't.... He was selfless in his most unseen But felt ways... During the darkest, scariest, Loneliest, and most difficult moments, I just had to imagine his face, Then things would turn out okay For I felt his presence then... Today, as I reflect on how I got to this age, How I lived my life without him, I have realized, those long-running hours, Were not lost days at all... I now have found my days with my father, For, he is  my guardian angel, He had been, he was, he is, He will constantly be with me... All my days, Here on earth and beyond... All my days... Sally Copyright 2014 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 8:36 PM UTC
"FOUND" DAYS WITH MY FATHER
(a follow-up) Those days, I could still recall clearly When, I did not feel warm hands That would catch me if I ever fell When I took my first steps as a baby... When I had no one to take me to school on my first day Had to cope with fear through my own childly ways, I did many other firsts in my life, On my own, Without the warmth and caring presence of My father.... Somehow, a notion came about... And I reflected long on it... This is an Epiphany in my late summer years... Those days I was without him physically, Were the moments I strongly felt his presence... He would be--- In front of me Beside me Behind me, All those times, taking care of me The only way he could: By invisibly watching over me... While my mother was at work, While I was playing, While in school, While growing up as a teenager... When my safety was jeopardized, He was very much with me... In my dreams, he would comfort me... Talk to me, assuage my fears... Even wanted to take me with him, To save me... And yet, he didn't.... He was selfless in his most unseen But felt ways... During the darkest, scariest, Loneliest, and most difficult moments, I just had to imagine his face, Then things would turn out okay For I felt his presence then... Today, as I reflect on how I got to this age, How I lived my life without him, I have realized, those long-running hours, Were not lost days at all... I now have found my days with my father, For, he is  my guardian angel, He had been, he was, he is, He will constantly be with me... All my days, Here on earth and beyond... All my days... Sally Copyright 2014 Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
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As the winter wind blows away all the dreams of yesterday, We sit inside all bundled up drinking cocoa from a cup. I watch the maples dull and dry begin the sap and to provide. We know that as the days go by, We'll fix the Earth up to the sky. Before we fix the spring to new, we know just how much there is to do. We'll melt and push the snow away and call back all the bluest jays. The cold must go away and heat must come, pouring down from the shining sun. We hope and wait for ground of white to go away and fix my sight. With flurries gone and rainbows back,   the joy of picnics with a snack and all the fun and summer things comes back to my full mind with wings. Though the winter has its time, summer has children at their prime. And now that summer has arrived, our childly fun has been revived.   ~Kaylie
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Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 6:17 PM UTC
An Emerging Spring
as a child, you can't wait to grow up. as an adult, you either suppress or fulfill your childly needs. some of us do both; but it's the balance that counts.
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Jan 29, 2020
Jan 29, 2020 at 12:08 PM UTC
Children and Adults
You mock formidable locks, Then throw heavy doors open; Sunbeams wash in where dark spells swayed, And somewhere a bird sings, Were they even real - those tricks wicked whispers played? You are the soul of endless songs, You lay traps where clever artists fall; Dare a third person declare you devious, You are the very meaning of a good fairy's wand. You hide from the crowd in plain sight, While I unravel every little flash and inflection; I immerse in your language, And we exchange playground secrets in childly delight; Yes, I become a child - it's a choice and I trade, To enter your mystery world with light steps, The baggage of gathered wisdom I leave behind. And there, somewhere, while the act plays, A wise man smiles and he says, 'Such it has always been - To give yourself to new eyes, you must first turn blind.'
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Dec 14, 2017
Dec 14, 2017 at 9:51 AM UTC
Everything You Are