"comitted" poems
You slay my clan so i hate you
But whats this feeling deep inside?
I will end you elder brother.
This is about more than pride
I've heard the stories and believed the lies
But I see it in your eyes
You staged this whole thing and for what reason?
As far as we know you comitted treason.
So I'll take you down just watch me.
But part of me misses my brother, Itachi
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 2:35 PM UTC
Perception is a sickness we conceive.
Letting people control our reactions.
Changing our level of satisfaction.
There is choices in every emotion we produce.
Being offended is a feeling we have comitted.
What you say or do has no effect on my rationality.
Unless, I let your insecurities influence how I carry my body.
Addressing our contaminations helps open our eyes.
No longer being victimized by the lies others drown us in.
We can make the decision to keep opposition or let it roll down like rain.
Having positivity in all is an unlikely belief.
However doesn't mean it can not be studied.
Self control, dedication and confidence is the mixture you need.
Do not wallow in self inflicted misery.
All it takes is you to make a change.
There is no other reasoning it really is simplicity.
Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 6:38 PM UTC
A poem is like a naked person,
That needs redemption and mercy,
And every expression to impress,
And comitted like a press.
Every expressions are specious,
And rhythms ostentatious,
Poets with their dulcet lips,
Giving vulnerability to your hips
Poets use one's Achilles' heels as
Leverage,
With many diction and language,
Their words can't be insipid,
So they play the cupid.
Poets seems complaisant,
Tantalizing those counts,
She said poet are killers,
But they claim to be healers.
Poets take their hyperborical expression
To the peak,
Making all your bones weak,
She said Poets are liars,
Oh! Poets are murderers.
Poets will make your soul tremulous,
With those words, sounding mellifluous,
Poets take you to the imaginary world,
Perhaps with just a word.
But Poets change their environment,
Releasing the truth from its confinement,
Chastising the revolts and destroyers
With mere pen and paper.
But she wouldn't agree,
Not to any degree,
She said Poets are liars,
Oh! Poets are murderers!
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 8:47 AM UTC
Leftovers...
Sometimes they eat just like a gourmet rocket ship
landed on the moon
And other times
Well, other times...
They could be the last stop just before the garbage can
The real Last Super.. After..
Realization.
.....for crimes that had never been comitted
If The Word says.. "I love you.. "
Which one woild it be?
Garbage returned?
Or
Garbage dumped out?
Pure Essence of Life..
pouring thru the space between fingers...
Now forgotten hand's Divine Givingness
Judas Price
Gold for Some
And bloods watery emptiness for others
****** for Greed
Death of Christ
Tears are the realness of a Mothers Touch taken away
Witnessed, by God's Own Law, Compassion.
Are their any who passed?
Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 11:54 PM UTC
hAVE mERCY. fOR eVERY fAULT i hAVE mADE. fOR eVERY wRONGDOING i hAVE cOMITTED. fOR eVERY uNJUST aND uNRIGHTEOUS dEED
i hAVE pARTAKEN iN. fORGIVE mE fOR eVERY uNHOLY aCTION i hAVE iMPLIMENTED
iN mY lIFE. sPARE mY sOUL.
aMEN,
Jun 21, 2019
Jun 21, 2019 at 12:19 AM UTC
The first of thirty and the first time I've ever comitted to something I find very important.
Beneath my chest are two parachutes
On a daily basis the expand themselves,
with each breath.
Moving in a synchronized fashion, togther
they support the same body.
Never does one think of the consequence,
often embracing the heat of a cigarette
or the medically created air of an inhaler
My lungs
They make the best parachutes
Capillary kite strings,
perfect precision of movement
between the fine lines of the atmosphere
Kite strings that are often and only severed by a blunt force trauma
that, waking up feeling of getting hit by a truck
too many cigarettes between nervous conversations with a ghost
or the constant reassurance between inhalations that sometime soon,
my heart will beat again like it used too
for something that matters
instead of something that should matter
My lungs make the best parachutes
never ceasing to stop their rhythm
constantly supporting the downfalls.
Apr 2, 2012
Apr 2, 2012 at 2:57 AM UTC
And there she is. The reason for this altar. Decorating it just like Jesus in his cross. Her eyes open, looking down on me in an empty stare. Her body naked, clean, and pure, posing in front of a glowing, golden ring hanging from the ceiling. It is decorated with prayers, written in an ancient, secret, almost demonic, language. She is motionless, voiceless, lifeless.
She was playing a part in the latest short film from a famed, young director. Her part was that of a shy, frightened girl in an abusive relationship, who wanted to end it before he ended her. In the script was written that she'd die by his hand. A passional crime comitted while she slept. Her life ended by a knife, still sticking out of the back of her lifeless body when it was found by her, now terrified, roommate.
She had had a few other acting roles before this one, but this was the one that could launch her career. Sadly it would never come to be.
When the time came to film the "discovery of the body" scene, the cast wasn't so sure about the story ending with the death of the protagonist. They felt it was too extreme for the message they were trying to share. They talked to the director, trying to change the death of the girl into nothing more than a violent fight between the couple. After much thought, the director agrees to change the script.
But no one can change the script of fate.
Once the script was re-written, ready to be filmed, the whole cast was called in to do so, but something was amiss. The lead actress hadn't come. Her answering machine had over 78 unheard messages. Her inbox full of unread e-mails titled Where are you?!.
No one would know anything about her again. No one but me.
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 5:56 AM UTC
You not being able to trust me is comparable to life spent in prison. I comitted crimes before, pleading guilty to sleeping with another man before you even asked. I would not have shed my clothes for him had I known you were coming back. I know now that fights do not always lead to a final goodbye.
His touch felt so strange. Boney hands glided across my skin. He didn't give me goosebumps. Instead, the tips of his fingers were bees. I lost your trust in exchange for being stung a dozen times. You gave me a life sentence, when i am already imprisoned by my conscience.
Please consider a retrial
Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 4:22 AM UTC
We are not them
Dont judge me because of my religion
Dont judge us all the same
My religion teaches me peace
It teaches me love
It tells me to show compassion
Not like what you think of us
My religion is beautiful
Same as yours
Dont label us of crimes
Not comitted by us as a whole
There are muslims in the world
Just like there are the idiots
Idiots who hide behind false faces
They are not me and i am not them
I represent me, they dont do the same
So many religions
All struggling to get into heaven
Similar beliefs, same goal
Together we conquer
Divided we fall
Not just 1 religion
But the whole world
Hand in hand
We stand tall
Muslims stand in prayer
Shoulder to shoulder
To stop the devil winning
The world should do the same
Not to be muslim
But to be human,
To stop the ones separating us
Giving the terror they cause the name of Islam
Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 6:19 PM UTC
He thumps in your chest
Never stops to rest
Beat and beat
From head to feet
Keeps you going
Keeps blood flowing
Pumps life in you
'Til your life is through
Despite his cause
He recieves no applause
For he's to blame
For all our pain
But is that true
If only we knew
The anatomical heart
Isn't the one tearing us apart
He does his job
Doesn't blab his gob
And yet we gloat
On our scapegoat
We point our flaws
Against all laws
And he is the defendant
Still we are so dependant
He says, "I'm full of reason.
I've comitted no treason.
If you feel drained,
Accuse the brain.
She always gets away with it.
It makes me want to have a fit.
She toys with your emotions.
I've created no commotion."
Feeling comes from our mind
So next time try to be kind
Because the atomical heart
Is an important body part
And you wouldn't want to beat it down
Then one day find that it has drowned
In your false accusations
Made by your frustrations
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 12:45 AM UTC
Oh, you are life to me.
The one I ever love.
Oh, I suffer and worry
over how to get and keep your love.
Oh, with the coin of my heart
and the coin of my soul
I seek to exchange for the coin of your love.
Such a small and insignificant thing to you
the whole world to me.
Oh, how I beg and throw myself at you feet
that there is yet just a small place
in your heart for me.
Oh, without you my life is over
and my race is run
and my sun sets forever.
into an eternal night and winter.
Oh, lovely exotic creature
from a faroff land
how the world knows not
all my love for you.
Oh, how this world would call me a fool
and heap ridicule upon ridicule
in its disdain of my love for you
as though I had comitted a great crime.
I do not care! I have stopped caring long ago.
Oh, if you take all this hope
all this hope of your love form me
then take a poison tipped blade
and plunge it deep into my heart.
Oh, how this would be more merciful by far
than the slow death
that I would die without your love.
Oh, your silence is more painful
than a thousand whips upon my flesh
when I beg you to say the words
the words I long to hear
"I love you."
those words!
Oh, how I live and die by them!
Oh, if you were to say those wordss
how the sound of your voice
would be sweeter then honey
and more lovely than the song birds
upon an early spring morning.
Oh, angel of eternal heavenly light
no tongue can tell
of the depth of my love for you!
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 1:24 PM UTC
You know, there are things in which I would like to answer
Your face pops up all the time and I wake up and think if you're awake
I have the courage to talk to you, you're on my mind
I look back at what we used to be and judge it
I pick holes at what we used to be
I think things are better now
I'm secure finally
I think I'll love you better
It's 5am, just a normal day... making myself some tea
You know how many things have to happen before we see eachother
The thoughts that cross my mind
The things I would do, the things I end up doing between that time
Everything used to be so off
I'm observant but I speak on it now
You're asleep right now and I wouldn't mind waking up next to you
It's a cool thought even though we're still teens
The thing is, have I caused so much damage to go back?
Or too much to go forward?
The thing is, I cant leave you like that
I myself wont allow someone I love to be left without security
Without my love in her heart
While you're reading this a lot is going through your head
While you're reading this, a lot of people are drying
Kids are getting *****
Houses are being burned down
Babies are getting aborted
People aren't making it through surgery
Someone just comitted suicide
AND I'M STANDING ON THE LEDGE OF LOVE YELLING I CAN MAKE YOU FORGET ABOUT THOSE THINGS THAT HAPPEN
I can heLP YOU NOT GIVE A **** ABOUT WHAT PEOPLE THINK ABOUT YOU
THAT HOLDS YOU BACK
I spent the majority of my teen years debating if my days would come to end eternally
Eventually, they all do
Physcally tired but **** it
Keep it going
I haven't lost my touch
I thought I wouldn't love right
Then again, define it
You can't define the way we act
Our motives are ours
You know what's ******* crazy
We're ******* awesome
Think of yourself
Think of your brain
There are two hemispheres
Think of the functions, the muscles, the abstracts, think of your ******* spinal cord that connects your body to your brain
Think of your will power
Now think of the "we are one" thing
Think of us
Alright I'm off to drink my tea now, it's ready
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 6:18 AM UTC
Can you, please, not call me?
Let my mind be free
I need some time alone
And a place that I can call my own
I want everyone to go away
I want some silence for at least a day
The sun may not rise, for all I care, at all
I’ll ignore every call
I’ll pretend I don’t exist
And I’ll delete every call I’ve missed
I’ll imagine that the world has died
And that I’ve finally comitted my suicide
Oh, and at the end, how good I’ll feel
Even though I know it isn’t real
I’ll just pretend that all is dream
And my eyes again can start to gleam
Just like then, for sure
When everything seemed pure
I just want to close my eyes
Until the dead ones rise
And I can join them then, at last
With everything but with my past
So I’m begging you, don’t make a blunder
Do not call me, just lose my number
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 12:14 PM UTC
Being paranoid is being stuck in a prison in my mind, i and yet i know i comitted no crime, and yet with time i still see no rhyme or reason why i m being blamed fo this teason. It feels like i am going cray or maybe i am just too lazy to look on the bright side of things, oh how i hate how much it stings. Being trampled by your own thoughts is a horrible way to go, i think i'd rather freeze to death in the freezing snow. Everything is real, at least that's how it feels, i feel like i haveto *** but i can never make it gleem. Oh this feeling i dread, sometimes i think i'd rather be dead or at least hit in the head, to get these thoughts out of my mind or at least find a fine line between fiction and reality but thats not going to happen on a little caesers salary. Everything feels real but i know its not, sometimes i wanna go back to smoking *** i know i need help before i start to yelp. If i dont i feel like ill hang by my neck and by then it will be too late to correct. Being paranoid is being stuck in a prison in my mind, i feel like i commited no crime...
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 12:11 AM UTC
Here puppy puppy ....
Nice doggie.....no... no...
Good boy.... fetch.... come....come... STAY ?
Ahhh ****
Usually female sometimes a Man...ish.
Loving dogs more than people.... over comitted to making Rover roll over.
Tricks for treats.
Scoobie snacks for low self eztteeemers.
Johnny wont behave or comply.
Get a dog or a ****
Dogs are faitfull even when ya kickem. All paws and tongue. Never ever singing WE SHALL OVERCOME
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 7:19 PM UTC
i'm insane people say cause i stand alone away from society.
but i don't have any fault line. i'm not ashamed of what happened last time.
it was all of us that comitted in the act of our lives.
if we stick to gather we wont lose our minds like maybe tomarrow.
falling out of the group becomes the weakness that will make our minds go completly insane.
where do i stand when we all split away from the group.
why did we all split up cause i be came antie social agenst all that we stood for.
why did you want to bring me back to start a new group to become strong again.
when we all split we all made a fault that broke the ties that we made but now its all lies that we created to hide away to move one with life
Nov 25, 2015
Nov 25, 2015 at 8:55 AM UTC
People commit to one another by saying death do us part.
Shouldn't that mean to your future children to.
Why alienate your own child.
Why leave your child without answers as to why you left.
Why don't you bother years later try to hold a conversation after they said sorry for something they don't even know what they did.
I don't understand.
Death do us part.
Means nothing anymore to anyone.
You make a commitment to someone you try to work that **** out.
If you can't be thr for your children you shouldn't have comitted...
Shouldn't have said sickness and in health... or death do us part...
Because I'm apart of you and you act like I don't exist.
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 5:14 PM UTC