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"chosing" poems
Oh to untie you From the straints of adolescence. To craddle you Kiss your closed eyes- Feel the lashes brush my lips Softly now like down and spring Sweet like young breath You would lean in. But suddenly- Filled with flame you would grasp Become the craddle yourself. Free from those who bind you Chosing to bind us instead. In hate or love It is all the same We call it adolesence
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Jun 29, 2010
Jun 29, 2010 at 6:46 PM UTC
Adolescence
i just lamented a more complex version of this; i just cannot believe we denote the same thing in order to share an understanding of the same by denoting as such, but when acting we feel so differently about it; imagine the noun iran in the mouth of an american, then picture the verbs subsequent... then imagine the noun america in the mouth of an iranian, then picture the verbs subsequent: words hold as much emotion as actions discard, even though the actions are worded, and the words are almost imaginary when concerned with what iraq was when given belshazzar. i wonder if as many people would **** or die for the noun apple, as they do for allah - say the noun apple... apple apple apple long enough... will you get apple juice? well no, so if you keep on saying the noun allah allah... will that thing materialise? the imaginary atheistic sense of the word allah, is that humanity turned the noun allah into a verb of its own chosing due to man's free will, i.e., say allah casually over coffee, now say allah in jihad clothing... the same noun among diverse verbs... might as well invent a new grammatical category of nouns and verbs mingling... nouverbs... what noun invokes what action, consolidated in what are excesses of adjectives, given the quality of a life lived - the man who casually said the noun allah in a coffee shop in denmark managed to integrate into danish society and start up a newspaper... the man in syria who "casually" said the noun allah in a coffee shop in syria didn't manage the former... because his orientation of the noun changed the path of the sequence of nouns / beheaded nuns, since the cutting of the word verb, managed to craft non-verbum-ergo-actio. in defence of avoiding one’s own mortality, one speaks against one’s own death, thus one speaks with the enemy of the people one shares a life with, for a fake chance of the feeling of prolonging.
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Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 8:53 PM UTC
2nd imagism
i just lamented a more complex version of this; i just cannot believe we denote the same thing in order to share an understanding of the same by denoting as such, but when acting we feel so differently about it; imagine the noun iran in the mouth of an american, then picture the verbs subsequent... then imagine the noun america in the mouth of an iranian, then picture the verbs subsequent: words hold as much emotion as actions discard, even though the actions are worded, and the words are almost imaginary when concerned with what iraq was when given belshazzar. i wonder if as many people would **** or die for the noun apple, as they do for allah - say the noun apple... apple apple apple long enough... will you get apple juice? well no, so if you keep on saying the noun allah allah... will that thing materialise? the imaginary atheistic sense of the word allah, is that humanity turned the noun allah into a verb of its own chosing due to man's free will, i.e., say allah casually over coffee, now say allah in jihad clothing... the same noun among diverse verbs... might as well invent a new grammatical category of nouns and verbs mingling... nouverbs... what noun invokes what action, consolidated in what are excesses of adjectives, given the quality of a life lived - the man who casually said the noun allah in a coffee shop in denmark managed to integrate into danish society and start up a newspaper... the man in syria who "casually" said the noun allah in a coffee shop in syria didn't manage the former... because his orientation of the noun changed the path of the sequence of nouns / beheaded nuns, since the cutting of the word verb, managed to craft non-verbum-ergo-actio. in defence of avoiding one’s own mortality, one speaks against one’s own death, thus one speaks with the enemy of the people one shares a life with, for a fake chance of the feeling of prolonging.
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31
Having known war and peace and loss and finding, I drink my coffee and wait for the sun to rise, With kitchen swept, cat fed, the day will quiet, I taste my fifty years here in the cup. Outside the green birds come for bread and water. Their wings wait for the sun to show their colours. I'll show my colours too. Though we've polluted even this air I breathe And spoiled green earth; though, granted life or death, death's what we're chosing, and though these years we live scar flesh and mind, still, as the sun comes up bearing my birthday, having met time and love I raise my cup - dark, bitter, neutral, clean, sober as the morning - to all I've seen and known - to this new sun.
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2.2k
Turning Fifty
1. You told me I am your everything but that is not a load I want to carry. 2. You ask me to be patient but I have given you so many chances I have none left for myself. 3. You only started treating me decently after you had lost me. 4. My fear of hurting you was what kept me from being able to put myself first. 5. Does chosing my own happiness really make me a bad person? 6. Does it really benefit you to blame me for your friends ditching on you because you became the person you are today? 7. Should I believe your countless mentions of how everything is going wrong and how it is all my fault? Shouldn't you be the one responsible for your own life? 8. I thought moving on would be hard but moving on from someone you don't recognize anymore is surprisingly easy. 9. Is a promise still valid when it was made to a completely different person? 10. Thank you.
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Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 6:09 PM UTC
10 things I want to say to you but know I shouldn't
Words spoken aloud doesn't constitute voice Can't force that it's heard, to listens a choice Whether screamed or whispered no volumes needed to hear Simply amplifying each word won't obligate one to care Voices carry a message words alone are too weak Theres talking out loud then theres chosing to speak Having something to offer must be desired For one to deserve the attention required Is it done to inspire or to satisfy pride To speak or to listen all arefree to decide Having freedom is great theres no better way But it should only be practiced by those with somthing to say Voices are vehicles with missions at hand To expand some knowledge over the promise land Driving this vehicle comes at a cost To continue the journey no matter whats lost Our greatest defense, never let down your gaurd Sorting message & noise can prove to be hard A message is only such as long as it remains the same The rules still apply no matter the game Since noise has its rights theres no option without it So take all you hear with a reason to doubt it
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Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 9:08 PM UTC
A Reason To Doubt It
I just want to wake you up and say I love you again for wanting to know me. I just want to wake you up and say I love you again for wanting to understand me. I just want to wake you up and say I love you again for wanting to love me. I just want to wake you up and say I love you again for chosing me. But there you sleep all quiet and beautiful so I'll just sneak you a kiss goodnight and show you just how much I do in the mornings light.
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Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
A Kiss Goodnight
The point of differentiation, not the point of contention, the point of no return continuation relative to knowing subtle forces ostensibly contained in the whole truth, and nothing but, to which no doubt, you are personally sworn, under penalty of cognative cacaphonic gnosisnot cough to reembodeize, embody abide completely centered, self aware. Then, the fiber that fuses string theory and determinism hooks a loop in time's SYTF problem set, so the set that made young Earl Russell paradoxically famous, from now on, one may learn and learn from now on, until one disintegrates, dissipates as cloud forms disperse, to show us how it works, wooly clouds meeting the reflected wind, and the winds from the pacific, pour down one side of my valley and up the other side, to make those parrallel feathery shapes one can watch form on fine days with nothing needing done, if the determinists are right, what matters if I use my time chosing to bend clouds into vast wings involved in making me think.
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Apr 18, 2024
Apr 18, 2024 at 5:59 PM UTC
Allowing others druthers
I was so sad But now I'm mad There's nothing that can change that, This time last year I held you near And now I'm staying clear, Too near, too close Everytime we touched I froze By the end of that we lost our clothes, There was no promise of your heart I got too close, forgot that part We didn't want to be apart, I told you how I felt one day, You told me that you felt the same From then it all went up in flame, You held my face I felt your grace "You are enough" you told me, Looked in my eyes Kissed me so lightly The world just stopped around me, You could chose us Since then you've hurt me more than once The choice you made just showed your lies, It's like I'm looking at you through the glass Don't know how much time will need to pass For us to be ok at last, Don't think we'll be ok at all You've added to my big black hole By chosing her to call your home.
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Oct 26, 2019
Oct 26, 2019 at 4:55 AM UTC
Through Glass
How dare you? You are a slow killer The pesticide, to me, the butterfly I flutter around freely in the wind I soak up a drop of your honey And your hidden poison takes control The worst part? You know you are doing it You know it is happening You know you cannot do anything But yet you do not acknowledge it Me You are sweet honey poison The suffering never felt so so amazing So cruel What do I do? I do what I can do Do you do what you can do? No, you do nothing Just sit Let me chose Chosing the wisest is always the most difficult But the wise follow their hearts Hearting what hurts us Human correct? On track you take me Me, the butterfly You hold me Tell me sweet words And then let the train run through me The course of your honey poison I loathe the pleasure so So I say to you my dearest **** you.
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Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 12:12 AM UTC
My dearest
There comes a time when you'll have your fill Of near death experiences induced by fear When with each thing you do failure is almost sure Even with spirits high your heart and soul will be in gloom I know I'll get over this But this time my poor nerves have reached it's cliff With the sight of roaring waves beneath my feet I tremble and cry for this to cease Living like this is betrayal to life By this heart can feel nothing but wrath Cursing the mirror for what it's done Living in the same cycle as the last one A friend of mine said only an idiot will fail this test I hate myself for being the jest If I have a choice to change this part Do you think I'll be chosing to be the prank I wish I know better for faiure to shift away For a fool to be wiser than before I wish to cry but no tears fall Maybe because my heart is crying while my soul rejoice
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Jan 23, 2012
Jan 23, 2012 at 9:22 AM UTC
At Wit's End
To the aunt. To the mother. To the sister. To the women that advised you correctly. Thank them even if you never listen. To the uncle. To the father. To the brother. Even to a friend. Thank them for trying to keep you out of the predicament you are in. The fact is we can listen to advice all day long. But chosing to ignore them to be independent. Sometimes find us headed in the wrong direction. While having many regrets later. To the preacher. To the teacher. Even to a stranger. Thank them. For the honest advice they gave to you. Even if you refuse to listen to the truth. We all have been told of trouble ahead. If we don't accept the truth given to us. Honesty hurts. When they came from other people words. Thank them, whoever tried to guide you right. Cause someone took an interest in your life.
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May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 8:33 AM UTC
Thank Them
I dream of a day when we are freed from greed We take not what we want But we have what we need I dream of a day When hope is planted like a seed It grows and spreads like a forest fire It shows the path before us And gives us desire I dream of a day When we meet violence With broken silence When we treat indifferance With dicern And through tolerance We learn I dream of a day When we treat others with care When we begin to love And we begin to share That day has come My will is done I am getting little and giving some I am hopeful without doubt I am not waging war with word I am chosing to listen and not to be heard I am tender and I am kind I am giving in to surrender instead of drawing a line I am loving in the indignation of hate I am creating a concious fate
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May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 9:29 AM UTC
Living in a dream
I was co-joined By an isthmus of words; Ringed as an island. If I walked away, I was snapped back; If I rolled over, I was chosing sides; Getting dressed Was a dialogue; Eating was identical. But now, Now that the separation Has set in, I'm next to an idiot, I'm beside myself.
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Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 11:20 AM UTC
I Was Co-Joined
So, I went to the office and talked to the lady Behind the desk that's not quite large enough for her. She told me she'd change my schedule, of course! But- I would need to substitue the dropped courses with different ones. So I hmm-ed and I Uhmm-ed and ended up chosing To help out the librarian and to take a design class. (The latter was chosen only because I know someone in it,) I left the office of awkwardness and now here I am, Writing and waiting, and hoping for graduation To hurry up and get here.
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Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 10:58 AM UTC
Schedule
Out across the high terrain through avenues of sky Flashing by clear rivers swum perhaps, by you and I. Crossing cloistered cities clogged by tepid rotten air Whilst crucified by temperamental knotting of the hair. Howling at disparity in scowling at the way We all reacted differently to what they had to say. Globalising gigabytes of hurt and hate and spite Despite diverse distention when day obscured to night, Black and white and brindle mixing hot beneath a moon Confusing you who rationalise disharmony’s cold tune…. Pause to catch the nuance lost twixt shades of grey and green Then riot for the kewpie doll to wear the crass obscene. Raging fields of fire in a world of spleen awash Antagonised at variance in chosing knife or cosh, Antagonised disastrously across this sphere of man Leaving sad distraught, discerning weeping blood into the sand. M. 16 August 2017
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Aug 17, 2017
Aug 17, 2017 at 1:26 AM UTC
Blood in the Sand.
Driving at night and watching the city lights flash by, Going to the lake and napping in the sun, the water quiet just to let us sing, Walking when it gets dark and not caring about the morning to come, Watching flocks of birds departing for far far away, Breakfast with my mom outside while the air is still as fresh as the grass, Those nights we wanted a huge feast and ended up being too many to fit in tiny kitchens, My body breaking to the music in crowds, Bus rides that made my *** hurt for hours, Sleeping in on sundays, knowing i'll walk to school when the next cold day comes, Chosing to live everyday, Not simply existing because I have to hold on for later, But mostly what i miss is family, and freedom.
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Feb 7, 2021
Feb 7, 2021 at 3:36 AM UTC
Things I've Missed Because of You, 2020.
On the beach I found a lamp A lamp. With a genie not filled with sand So, I did what every normal person would do I gave it a rub or two Out popped the genie my palm in his hand "What do you want I Grant you three wishes as only I can"! My wish is not just for me Hoping he sees And then can finally understand So what is it your heart desires to me he asked I can only change the future but never the past My wish is for peace and love Why do ask this he asked looking above In this life I am rich, in life I said quite tame I want that for everyone, with no one to blame In a world where greed is drunken with power Hope lights lanterns, and love gives showers In a world where time forgot I want people to remember to love each other for who they are Not for what they have, or what they got With a future with such uncertainty It has to start somewhere, So I am chosing to start with me.
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Aug 4, 2019
Aug 4, 2019 at 11:41 PM UTC
Genie and me
When one is betrayed you start to feel afraid. The one what started it has the upper hand as you negotiate this strange new land. Friends and family all wonder why Surely it takes two for love to die. "We drifted apart" is shadow of the truth Because saying 'I cheated' is so uncouth. Monogamy's limits was privately said as the reason to declare the marriage dead. Later denied because it seems so tacky to be so quick to jump in the sacky. I know we do not share ideas of right Nor can I claim superior moral height. But please be honest to our friends and say, I threw him out so I could play. I do not seek to shame for I share some of the blame I believed in words and vows and history how I was so clueless is my mystery. I can only guess that the chase and capture gives you what I find in love's rapture. I am sorry for making you pretend and keep you from what you intend. I only wish you had not played your role with such apparent feeling and soul. For your family is lost and cannot cheer the latest affirmation that you are dear. Goodbye and happy chasing the thrill and I vow to be sure of love that cannot ****
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Jun 15, 2019
Jun 15, 2019 at 7:46 PM UTC
Chosing sides