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Àŧùl Apr 2013
He married her.
She was from really far away.
She lived in a home over two thousand kilometers.

He had promised her.
She had been defied by him later.
She was promised by him that he would shift to her land.

He wished to be more active.
She couldn't bear the stench of his breath.
She was having a bad time with it and was more inactive therefore.

He later turned perfidious to her.
She again felt defied and extremely cheated by him.
She could not accept that her husband was doing what she had only heard of.

He never regretted when caught red-handed.
She prevented herself from committing suicide at that time.
She thought of her son on a second thought when she was considering of a suicide.

He could not see beyond the mountains & the valley.
She was scared and could never wish to grasp the tower he offered.
She only considered marriage as a union of souls beyond the basic physical requirements.

He was not as wrong he seemed and his family boycotted him.
She never thought of love to be existing beyond the words and the promises.
She always thought of love as untouched & divine set free from all the requirements & the cravings.
21 Lines of Misunderstanding & Infidelity
My HP Poem #164
© Atul Kaushal
Cali Dec 2014
I told you that I missed you
as I grew nostalgic for things
that were never mine
in the first place.

Memories committing verbicide,
bringing to mind your voice
singing love songs in the moonglow,
and censoring the ugliness
of those words you really said.

I told you I missed you
because the words were festering
in my brain and filling my lungs
with air too heavy to breathe.

I told you that I missed you
because I've finally figured out
that all of your little injustices,
all of those things I should've called treason,
don't even begin to match
the chasm you left in my world
when you left.

You are missing from me
and I am a ghost without you.

I told you all of it,
déjà vu bitter on my tongue,
and I blinked as the words floated off
into the space between our lips.

Too little, too late,
you said,
*your love
is only ashes.
Tonight is the night
I say goodbye
The night that I live
And at the same time die

The stars are waiting
My hands are shaking
The angels are dead
The fear's all in my head

It's all the same
Cause I'm the girl with no name
I'm holding the pills
I keep getting chills

Nobody cries
Everybody dies
I'm committing a crime
So I know it's time

As I leave the world
I know I'm free
I know I was lost
and no one will remember me

Because the little girl
Who hides in her room
Was always in the dark
Stuck in her tomb

With tears on her pillow
And razors under the bed
Had too many monsters
Stuck in her head

The angels weep
For the little lost soul
Who took her own life
Because life took it's toll

(Disclaimer, this is inspired. Please don't worry.)
SheCaldWar Nov 2013
Always complaining and underfed, misread the news people said
Not enough money begging for more watch out the disease will spread
Bed made of roses and a look from years ago
John Doe even after committing a crime rehabilitation is slow
Beauty and the Beast no clean air to inhale
Itchy nose but excited to breathe as you exhale
No Kodak moment life is different behind the scenes
Disowned by your own genes when pregnant in your teens
By all means go on with your routine without a care
But beware of the affairs and glares and the turtle that doesn't beat the hare
Because life isn't fair, you're not God so don't sit in his chair
Everyone can spare a little change
Emily Mary Jan 2015
The land of the free and home of the brave,
Nothing but a pathetic attempt at humane priority.
America is a sad attempt of Patriotism and Rationality
Our Government is a fatuous ill-minded joke.
Mr. President you are the political icon that sums up this idiotic unsystematic society.
In all serious this country is a disgrace to the pledge of allegiance "Under God, Indivisible, With Liberty and Justice for All."
Reality is that isn't how it is at all,
If it was Liberty and Justice for all things would be different, not ignorant
I do not stand for the pledge thinking the same as my peers..

I pledge my allegiance to same *** couple getting married without hesitation of the system raining down on them, it's like humans are afraid of there own anatomy who cares if a man loves another man they're happy

I pledge my allegiance to Faith and Spirituality, there should be no fear with God, there should be no hate in Allah, there should be no judgement to any.

To ****** with teeth that shine, lips that curl a welcome mat spread across the slim grin they portray, Mr. President should have had you put away a long time ago.
You are not welcome here..

It's not even just the President, its us as a society terrorizing one another for committing acts that we are supposed to be able to do freely.

I am disappointed in our Country,
There are places around the world that have half of we have
Yet still seeming to know what the concept of working together means
Better than we do, and we have the audacity to call ourselves the
Home of the brave, and the land of the free.
Do you believe,
in the spirit that moves through all things?
It connects our souls as one,
and together they sing.

Do you believe,
that we are all one?
The only difference is,
our native tongue.

Do you believe in the spirit that moves through all things?
Binds us as one, humans and nature, the same.
Do you believe in the spirit that moves through all things?
Humans hunger for nature will never be tamed.

Nature once, wild and free,
is now oppressed by man and machine.
Gods lookin' down, shaking their heads.
Do we stop? No, we drill instead.

Taking the homes, of the animals,
eviction without warning.
A holocaust, all is lost,
Mother Nature is mourning.

We are murderers,
molesting and ****** the land.
We are executioners,
committing crimes with our own two hands.

Look,
what,
we have done.

Took,
a,
loaded gun.

Pulled,
the,
**** trigger.

And blew Mother Natures head right off!
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
NeroameeAlucard Mar 2017
Ever have a browser open
With many different tabs?
Its a slippery *****
From one tab needed,
To about 20 for no reason
Some only open for a second
Taking up more bandwidth than the
Christmas season
It's like when it slows down, your computer
Is committing the high act of treason
Bleeding onto the overstimulated neurons
That occupy your mind with things so frivolous
And then you see..

The holes in your thoughts and logic creeping and creaking, closer to falling apart
Like listening to someone with a perpetually broken heart
Speak about love purer than the whitest dove
And how they'll never fall apart...

That's what my brain is like
Ive long since given up the fight...
Maddy Kay Oct 2018
Normal -
What a powerful word.
It’s something we expect to happen for everything.
It’s something we all have wanted to be.
Something we wish we were.

But it’s not that simple,
Now is it?
Because normal means you have to go by society’s standards of what “normal” is.
But what is the use?
Why even try?

Because no matter what,
No one is going to meet society’s standards of what this term means.
Now, you will only meet those standards when a powerful authority tells you.
For example, President Donald Trump.
He expects us to be normal by building a wall and not allowing immigrants inside this country.

Or how about this?
He says he accepts the LGBTQ+ community,
But you know he says that just so that he could get votes.
And what about this?
He sexually harasses women no matter what they say.

Why do we want to be this way?
Why does everyone want to fit in?
To be accepted?
To feel appreciated?
To want to feel something?

It starts in our childhood.
Elementary school starts and we make friends.
We talk to girls and boys our age,
Start to figure out how we should dress,
How we should act.

Then, we hit our pre-teen year.
Middle school hits us like a glove impacted by a baseball.
We start to figure out who we hang out with,
What phases we go through,
And what we should say.

Finally, we become teenagers.
High school feels like we get beaten by a bat.
We find out who our true friends are,
Find out what is good for us,
What we identify with.

But it doesn’t end there.
We go into adulthood and face reality.
And it ***** because we don't know what to do.
Who we should talk to.
What we should talk about.

Think about it.
We go through so much stuff to fit in.
To feel needed.
To feel wanted.
To feel normal.

Think back to the high school days.
Remember how it was normal for cheerleaders and football players to date?
How it was normal for the nerds to always be in the library?
How it was normal for the blonde that ran things to bully the girl with glasses and braces?
How normal it was for the gay kids to be called “****”?

Why is it okay for the kids with disabilities to feel left out?
Why is it okay for small kids to be shoved into lockers?
Why is it okay for guys to wear volleyball shorts and do ******-like moves,
But girls get in trouble for it?
Does this make sense at all?

When girls were young,
They were taught that it was wrong to bully.
They were taught that they should wear makeup and wear dresses.
They were taught that it was not okay to act like boys.
They were taught that they were going to become what their parents wanted them to be.

When boys were young,
They were taught that they should always act like a gentleman.
They were taught to wear tuxedos and gel their hair.
They were taught to never hit a girl.
They were taught that it was okay to get into fights.

Girls nowadays starve themselves to look perfect.
They get lip and breast injections.
They put on makeup that nobody recognizes them in.
They wear tight clothes to look skinnier.
They show off their body to look presentable.

Guys nowadays act like they are tough.
They hit the gym a lot to look perfect.
They take pills to feel better.
They rely on money to give them everything.
They do stupid things to get popular.

The cheerleader that was always nice to you?
She is dealing with abuse at home.
The popular blonde girl that picked on you?
She is cutting herself and popping pills to feel better.
That’s not all though.

The nerd that hangs out in the library all the time?
He was born with ADHD and he doesn’t want to be a burden to anyone.
The gay guy that gets called “***” all the time?
He is having problems with his boyfriend that he loves.
That’s not even the beginning of it.

We call each other names,
We say things that we don’t mean,
We give people looks,
We go through phases,
We do things to get attention.

We wear things to express how we are feeling,
We think about what people will think of us,
We listen to songs that we relate to,
We join things that make us feel good,
We hang out with people that give us good vibes.

But behind every smile is a frown.
Behind every layer of makeup is insecurity.
Behind every glance is worryment.
Behind every pair of sunglasses is sadness.
And behind every spoken word is fear.

Behind every song we listen to,
Has a special meaning to it.
Behind every poem we read,
Makes us think of our feelings.
And we what we fear.

Trying to be “normal” in today’s world,
Is like committing suicide to your old self.
Trying to be “normal” in everyone’s eyes,
Is like you are trying to become your own ******.
But why?

Trying to be “normal” for society,
Is like being stabbed to the back by the person you love the most.
Trying to be “normal” for popularity,
Is like a Great White taking a chunk of you.
What for?

We destroy the very core of us.
We take out what makes us important.
We add things to ourselves that we wouldn’t normally do.
We say things that we wouldn’t normally say.
What is the reason for this?

Guys catcall girls.
And they take it personally.
They take it into consideration.
They want to look better.
All they want is to feel like guys want them.

Girls judge guys on how they look.
They get shocked by it.
Their confidence goes down.
They dress better to impress.
All they want is to feel like girls them.

We are so focused on what others think of us,
That we give up on the fact that our own opinion matters.
We soak up every comment,
Every criticized term.
That we drown in the judgment.

To the ones that no longer care,
To the ones that block all the hate,
To the ones that ignore the judges,
To the ones that help spread kindness,
Keep doing it.

To the ones that criticize,
To the ones that judge,
To the ones that give ***** looks,
To the ones that make snarky comments,
Stop what you’re doing.

Do you see the pattern here?
How the mean people get recognized for doing something “good” in society’s eyes.
How the kindest people get ignored with every plea.
How it’s okay for us to do stupid things to get noticed?
Nothing is better than feeling accepted.

But being accepted is a privilege.
It’s not about what you want to see yourself to do.
You have judgmental parents for that.
It’s not about what you want yourself to become.
You have your parents to tell you what you will become.

But being accepted is a privilege.
It’s not about what you want to see yourself to do.
You have judgmental parents for that.
It’s not about what you want yourself to become.
You have your parents to tell you what you will become.

We live by rules and expectations.
Because if we don't,
We will get disowned by the people we trust the most.
Because if we don’t,
We will be seen as not worthy enough to feel good about ourselves.

But if we take the time to look at everything,
To realize that we don’t need to follow expectations,
To know we are worthy,
To see that we are loved for who we are.
One day, we will finally realize that we don’t need society’s expectations.

Elementary school girls are so worried about who will like them.
One day, elementary school girls will realize that they will gain friendships.
Elementary school boys are so focused on being tough.
One day, elementary school boys will realize that it is okay to be a gentleman.
Hopefully, it will happen.

Middle school girls are so worried about the size of their friend group.
One day, middle school girls will realize that popularity will not matter.
Middle school boys are so focused on getting a girlfriend.
One day, middle school boys will realize that girls will like them for who they are.
Possibly it will happen.

High school girls are so worried about the names they will get called.
One day, high school girls will realize that rumors are too stupid to be focused on.
High school boys are so focused on being perfect.
One day, high school boys will realize that it’s okay to be yourself.
Maybe it will happen.

Being normal is so pointless.
But yet, everyone takes it so seriously.
No one wants to stand out.
No one wants to feel different than everyone else.
We just go along with it.

Hopefully one day,
On a day that is just normal,
We will realize what we are doing to ourselves.
We will realize that we don’t need a set of rules to live by.
We will finally want the need to stand out amongst everything that is perfect.

As Brad Pitt once said,
“Stop being perfect,
because being obsessed over
being perfect stops you
from growing”.

So why don’t we just stand up for ourselves?
On what we want to do.
On what we want to look like.
On how we want to act.
Because as soon as we do that.

We will be free.
If you can't tell, this poem is about how we should not have to live by society's expectations in order to feel wanted.
abhinav Sep 2021
Is it my eyes or
some of you are actually white
wearing some wig
hiding that gore
the lil seven sisters
committing when alone.

Fabricated lives, customized self
wearing lies straight from Ralph
this isn't the shadow casted on your soul
it's the tailored tainted core
mirroring multiple images
like trail R in a store.

So afraid showing chromatic phase
undergoing perfectly placed transparent planes
shredding skin, playing games
back stabbing *****, sparking flames
loyal ain't, changing clubs
filling ears as if making it rub.
I wrote this when someone i thought as a brother let me down
Hannah West Mar 2011
One Boy
One Girl.

One healed heart.
One never been touched.

One new friend.
One new hoping-to-be-his-new-girlfriend.

One with a crush.
One in Love.

One with an interest.
One with none.

One in Love.
One already there.

One out of it.
One who still cares.

One with another.
One without.

One forgetting about her.
One can't live without him.

One maybe committing a sin.
One wishing to begin.

One losing interest.
One losing her appeal.

One not knowing how he feels.
One wanting to tell him everything.

One not caring;
One who wants to be daring.

One ignoring,
One's eyes full of tears.

One happy.
One will be sad for years.
[First line: Him]
[Second line: me]

[First line: Him]
[Second line: me]

[Etc.]
[Etc.]
agdp Aug 2011
All through the afternoon,
among these drinkers
to their tables to java cups
all from a bird’s-eye view.

Blended individuals,
of varying hues
too much sugar, no need to stir
hot, no ice - “a language of their own”
adding “cream to this crop”
like fraternity’s rushing thought
to seemingly **** out the weak.

Textbook before my face, coffee to my right
surrounded by chatter, and apparent debacles
behind the rearing of my ear lobes
set the seem from my shirt and cut
play the motion picture, film, pan out.

360 crossover,
these eyes wander, merely to ponder
conscious parenting to the mind; reminded
yes I did complete that -
atoning to what could be done,
view now from my eyes
around clouded peripherals
(zooming into this page)
trying to read to figure
a Venn diagram of the temporal lobe;
committing to memory ironically
it’s long-term function to maintain
the conception of this thought.

Distracted, back to this drink
re-calling coffee mythically impedes growth
or so they say to stray from focus -
the holder is the cup, to handle is abrupt
but we drink it, to straighten our view
so much as this morning vice stimulation
branded by a jaded graphic mermaid,
or possibly a siren, or to some a muse.

But, it’s the afternoon; no need to rush,
just here and there, casually taking sips
temporary jolts of caffeine
a temple of thought,
temporarily fading,
due to lacking the day-to-day rest.

Same perspective,
but this time curious, calm, and collected
like a child looking above an ant-farm - proud
gazing at moving points like synapses
of our coffee cups as opening our wakefulness.

Can we just remember to understand
that everyday is different.
Our mornings may start mundane
but we find joy in the day
for afternoon connections
no matter what they may be, just to remember,
so that we can have lasting memories,
and not the caffeinated ones.
http://soundcloud.com/medicinalpoet/agdp-caffeinated

AGDP © 2011
Àŧùl Apr 2013
Let me continue the story about a guy named Akshant,
Who belonged to Mathura in India, once the city of Krishna.

Akshant rejoined college and scored acceptably well this time,
He had realized his mistakes while he was to stay at home.
Repentance on committing mistakes intentionally was ripe,
He barely controlled the regret from flowing through his eyes.

Anamika was the only friend who was by his side in this time,
Giving him relief from loneliness which rang as the door chime.
Akshant had a poor memory so not much could stay on his mind,
Stressing his memory too much would only make his brain to grind.

Akshant then studied cautiously holding onto Anamika's hand,
Cautious he was not to crush it as he had formerly done to others.
He brightened up his professional life along with the romantic life,
And he scored brilliantly given his mental health was really affected.

The dried clots inside his brain were still an issue two years later,
But he controlled himself to not harm others from his anger.
The clots used to come out through as tears and ear wax,
Almost all was physically well after three more years.

Akshant went Kodaikanal after his bachelor's degree college,
He was an eligible bachelor when he had a job confirmation.
This happened when he was drifting away in the Kodai lake,
Anamika who sat next to him in the boat congratulated him.

Now Anamika confessed her feelings for Akshant in the boat,
Akshant couldn't find any words & found himself quite quiet.
This made Anamika challenge and taunt about his manliness,
Which caused Akshant get enraged & kiss his reply on her lips.

The boat swayed terribly in the star-shaped lake's still waters,
Anamika ogled & felt her hair get wet & this made her ****** Akshant.
She started kissing him back now & her eyes were coming back to normal,
These had been wide ogling when Akshant had started kissing hard and so it was.
Read part I here:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/7-seconds-part-i-of-a-poem-based-on-my-unpublished-novel/
My HP Poem #176
© Atul Kaushal
Le 17 Avril, 2013.
Left Foot Poet Jan 2018
<!>
inspired by a conversation with Maira Kalman


******* a name, adopt a persona, let my fingers do the talking,
place the instrumental sharp point tip upon the blankety blank paper,
maestro baton raised, coordinating,
the first sound, the vocal chords trembling,  
the first thought, the ultrasound image, entrance of a first violin,
coalescing into, into the initializing single primary phonation,
the stinging geometry of chance at last,
throwing  down the gauntlet, glove slapping, and the
tendons tense, the mouth opens, release and indentation,
a letter's curvature, a black and white downward stroking,
a sign is televised, revealed and released

a one way only sign

time bends knee, gravity suspended, terror morphs to
expelling rapid firefights of imagery needy for spacing,
even pauses mid-word  leave just this:

where is the in in
intimate?

are you the in in
inmate,
or the jailor at the gate?

you swear never again

until committing once more,

a sentence commutation, by committing a first sentence,

and the greater toll taken and paid for,

and the in in in-nate,
questions your sanity

happily


<•>

9/17/17 10:55pm
marie Jun 2013
We are cousins
Related by blood
Growing up
Together
Like
Siblings.

But we are cousins
And cousins don't get jealous
Cousins don't cry
When the other
Loves another.

However we are cousins
And everything is wrong
You crave for the wrong
And I dread the fulfillment
From the sins
We are
Committing.  

"We are cousins, right?"

You say sweetly to me
We lay in bed together
Hands intertwined
Under the darkness
And the comfort
Of the thick blanket.

I say nothing
Uncurling my fingers from yours
I turn to
Face away
And shut my eyes.

It was dark
It was quiet
Yet it felt so bright
So noisy
Under the uncomfortable
Silence.

You say nothing to me
And wrap your arms around me.

I flinch.

A sweet whisper
Flows into my ears
Sweeter than any other

Simple words
Simple meanings
Time passes
New meanings.

Wrong meanings.

The hidden bitterness
Starts to show
I shake
Uncontrollably

I had no words to say
To the words you had
We are cousins
Relishing in our sins.

You, who wanted this to go on
I, who wanted this to all end.

You, whom I cared for so much because I watched you grow.
I, whom you needed wrongly and mistakingly.

*"I love you."
Loosely based off a real story to me. It's not this dramatic though, but it happened. It happened once and I don't want it to happen again.
White Oaks display tenuous longevity
Tethered to red dirt , moss populated
living testaments , etched in black decay
like tombstones marking an ending location
What man did fire in anger from this hillside
Fire for daily bread , wracked in hunger , steeped
in the unknown , slighted by his brethren , ill
recompensed , foolhardy leg deep sagebrush
foraging lonely wilderness outposts , a foreign beast
racked with chilblain , feverish at deaths gate
Hickorys cry golden kin in frosted wind , red inquiries
mingled in dark earth decay , vermin infested rot ,
pungent pile reeking recompense , scavenger trolled
dead carpet , crying in fog drenched stupor , collecting
in leaf well , motif sunbeam , signaling the birth of midday
shine neath Maple umbrellas
Beside talking waters , ravenous , diamond temptress , committing Summers deceased corruption to the sea
Mosaic sands , evergreen curiosities , glass creek- boulder
kaleidoscopes , lapping shorelines , mud foaming froth
hiding unknown depth
Laughing , forever cascading artery without mercy
Teeming with pan , bream , perch and sturgeon
Alligator shell scavenger , water moccasin , consumption
Pine labyrinths , sunless Fern gardens , Snake , Dew , Red berry
briarpatch mazes , rolling countryside without fence , encaged in Crescent Moon , lantern fly obscurity with voracious Aedes vampires , humid , blistering night without end* ...
Copyright September 17 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Heavenly host fill Hill Country skies on this night ,
delivering miracles , providing comfort to the oppressed ,
showering a confused , stress laden Earth with hope and
the promise of rest .. Sweet rest .. May Angels swaddle ,
protect and free you of your worldly burden this night ,
committing thy mind to rest , sweet rest .... Good night ..
Copyright February 22 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
Committing to the actions of an ill inflicting lie
abiding to the laws unveiling cloaks between the lines
searching for the cause of all the walls that blind and bind
the city sleeps and I will weep unless we're sure to find

The true story
respect and honor
belief and faith
pursuing farther
into the darkness
to light the honest

I feel like a ghost

within a haunting place he thought he'd never be
as a human he could change the lives of many and set them free
but every time he tries to speak they act like he's not there
fading out with pain, angst, and shame
for those who do not care

about the true story
respect and honor
belief and faith
pursuing farther
into the darkness
to light the honest

...yet they don't want to know...
**FadedFate**
Sarina May 2013
250
Listen to your body
unless it is fat, fat is always wrong
fat is like flowers committing suicide by drinking too much fertilizer
fat is having too big a bloom
because petals are bad and skin is bad
and brown wilted leaves can't die if they are big and fat.
Jordan Frances Feb 2016
They call you "woman"
Though you probably are just shy
You are only about fourteen
When a nation is sewn into your womb
The white men, they will call you exotic
Call your brothers savages
As they pin you to a tree
And colonize the nest below your belly
They will imperialize your body
Annex your ******
Because they can
They are above you, after all
Yet you are still looking ahead
So eloquent while under attack
Why is **** suddenly beautiful
When it is a weapon of war?
Why do we normalize
The abuse of women with brown skin?
Not pain, just literature
So darling, I am so sorry
For what my brothers, for what my ancestors
Did to you
I am so sorry that the war on your body
Is why I am standing on your homeland
Though the skin of my relatives was not on American soil
Until two hundred years later
My blood was never shed on that dirt
Anyone who came here after you
Has hands covered in red
Flash forward three hundred years
These white men whose forefathers
Made a throne for their heirs inside of you
Are accusing other brown-skinned people
Of being terrorists
Of being rapists
Did we really forget that quickly?
They will wage war for my body
Because it lacks pigment
But they will ignore
That they are the ones committing the crime.
Every time a brown person is deported
Every time we vote for someone
Who spews bile when they speak
Every time we accuse immigrants
Of advancing our **** problem
We are slicing your children from your insides
Marvelous woman
Each nation you birthed is under attack
Every time we attack another nation
Our hands are covered in red.
Samantha Apr 2015
Lip locking over the fishhooks in our cheeks.
I would have bled for you
Even if you never asked me to.
You love feels less like torture
And more like a special type of ****,
A type that transcends a fleeting ****** high.
You keep me high.

We are poisoned harpoon heads
Biting into each other’s flesh.
We are swords clashing in battle.
We are refracting magnets,
Opposing armies holding atomic bombs
On our tongues.

My ribcage is Hiroshima.
Your hands are Nagasaki.
When we come together we make Chernobyl.
Your radiation setting my broken bones.

I just can’t get enough of your
Post apocalyptic voice singing funeral songs
Over the snapping of embers.
Your teeth clacking together like wind chimes
Reminds of the steady pop-pop-pop of machine guns.
Your eyes are the barrels of snipers.

We love in red and black,
Black and blue.
We love in cracking knuckles.
Scars like constellations telling lost stories in the sky,

You reminded me of a vampire
With the way you licked the blood from my lips.
You told me I was the sweetest thing
You’ve ever tasted.
A raspberry in a basket of blackberries.
We just can’t shake this red and black haze.

Remember when you tore my vocal cords
Out of my throat with your teeth?
Remember when I screamed horror movie
‘I love you”s into your mouth?
Remember how it echoed until you swallowed it
Along with my bleeding heart?

You left me ****** and broken,
Do you remember?
Do you remember your baseball bat arms
Breaking my ribcage?
Committing the burglary?
Do you remember the lacerations?
The scabs blooming in the shape of chrysanthemums?

Our love is a car crash.
Crazy and messy and deadly and sad.
But we just can’t look away,
Just can’t walk away.
Our love put me in the hospital
And I’m happy to pay the bills
Rahama Jun 2018
He first saw her from across the street
She was arguing with a vendor and from the smile that adorned
Her beautiful face he could tell she'd won
Her igneous personality attracted him to her
There was no way he could not get attached
He was keenly watching all her movements
Committing to memory all that made her dissimilar to others

Her steps were fainéant
Like she had all the time in the world
He was beguiled by the way her hips swayed when she walked
He could not not follow her
He could not not know her
He followed her at the same pace
The thrill of hearing her voice for the first time made his heart race
But that could wait
For now he was content with watching her tread

She switched paths and walked into a building
A dance studio
He felt giddy just thinking of watching her dance
He knew she'd be great at it
The lightness in her steps hinted at it

He entered the building slowly
He was bubbling with anticipation as he searched for her everywhere
He walked into a room and found her
She was facing the door
She looked like she'd been waiting for him to come

"I've been stalking you for awhile
You might need to get a restraining order"
He smiled sheepishly

"I know"
She replied
Her smile promised no restraining orders in future.
Thank you for reading
ri Jul 2016
the city is dark, dreary, and dismal
there's no escape from the seemingly never ending cycle
of vicious men committing acts so brutal
every day it gets more abysmal

the sun doesn't shine much like it used to
clouds of hatred and malcontent overcasting it’s rays
fear and anger cloud the skies
an uncontrollable rain is soon to break through

but sometimes a light breaks through the night
pure and bright and keeping you safe
arms wrap around you and hold you close
maybe you could win this fight.
Ashley Hedge Nov 2013
relationships and anything close to it
terrify me

the chances of ending up in a loveless one
or just committing to someone
to break it off a few years later
and adding to the
ever growing over 50% divorce rate
is intimidating

it could work out
and make the two of you
very happy
and fulfilled
and whatever else
comes with love

but i think
with too much logic
and numbers leave a harder impression
than stories

so that might be why
i avoid telling guys
that i think they are cute

because in reality when you date someone
it will end either
by the promotion of marriage
or breaking up forever
and that terrifies me
Ahmad Cox May 2013
It can be very easy to
Have those negative
Thoughts inside of
Our heads and minds

It can be easy to allow
Ourselves to let those
Negative thoughts
And ideas to become

Overwhelming until
We can lose ourselves
In the negativity and
Reacting out of fear

And anger, violence
Even going as far as
Committing murders
All out of hate and

And anger towards
Other people that
Can seem to come
Out of nowhere

We all have those
Negative biases
Inside of us and
Even I am not

Immune to those
Negative thoughts
And biases that can
Creep in without

Warning or thought
We all have things
Or people that drive
Us crazy sometimes

Or annoys us for
Whatever reason
And it can be hard
Not to react a lot

Of times it has
Automatic and
Engrained in our
Minds that we

Often dont stop
To think before
We react which
Can often get us

In trouble the most
When we should
Take the time to
See the actual human

I think we could
All take a lesson
From the buddhists
And allow ourselves

To passively flow
Along like an calm
Observer in the sea
Of life and allowing

Whatever storm or
Chaos that life might
Throw our way to
Pass through us like

The wind and flowing
Off of us like the rain
That pours and soaks
The earth and allowing

Ourselves to embody
That peace and calm
That comes only from
Accepting yourself and

Everyone else around you
And being able to have that
Greater love in your heart
For everyone and everything

And when you get to that
Point where you can react
Instead with unconditional
Love for all things and all

People you will know that
You have reached the point
Where life becomes happy
And you find that pure joy

And love and peace and calm
That we are all looking for
Inside so try and see the good
In everyone and everything

And allow that greater love
For humanity and for our
Earth and everything in it
To become all we know
Wanderer Feb 2019
Politics jut aren't my thing
I don't care who you vote for
I won't judge you based on your political party

but I do want to say

That is hurts me to see
so many Americans be so callous and rude
to others based on their religion or race
to watch others suffer
in countries where their leaders
are committing genocide
and when their last hope is
to run away from their home, family
everything that they've ever known
in hopes of finding safety
in hopes that they may be able to survive without fear
but then they are met with cruelty at our borders
hate in our country

What does America stand for
if not freedom and hope?
Is the American dream dead?
vic Apr 2016
Lit
I have never smoked **** in my lifetime.
Mainly because my anxiety makes me afraid of committing even the smallest of crimes.
But I know so many people that like to light up their mind.
And my sister happened to be one of that kind
She used to always smell like ****
She treated it like something of a need
I'm pretty sure if you cut her open then she began to bleed
It'd be a swirl of red, yellow, and green.
When I was ten and she’d drive me to school
Not telling our grandma that she toked while she drove was the ultimate rule
Sometimes she wouldn't roll the windows down cause she was a bit of a fool
And I had no choice but to **** in her fuel
The smell of **** makes me happy
And it's not because I'm a stoner or because I'm ******
My reason is sappy
And it's because when she took her last breath I’m pretty sure it was smoking a fatty
Her new favorite necklace became a colorful rope
And it was a symbol of her lost hope.
And the entire time she went down that slippery *****
Right by her side was a bag of dope.
Her dangling body was the only image in my eyes
Everything she ever told me started to turn into disoriented lies
And I began to despise the very meaning of getting high
Because my favorite stoner flew into the sky
Now I know that toking wasn’t the problem
The matter at hand was a bit more quantum
But it hurts because she was the Batman to my Robin
And now I’m here by myself trying to protect the streets of Gotham.
From a super villain pair called Anxiety and Depression
Rachel’s noose was their sick little invention
I keep trying to figure out what's the deal with their obsession
With the mangled corpses that give them their erections
I ask her everyday when I curl up to her hoodie
“Was it because you were bullied?
Was it because you spent too many days playing hookie?
Was it because you didn’t smoke enough of your goodies?”
The **** seemed to make my sister seem stable.
It was like her way of getting her emotions out without it seeming too painful
She never really thought of it as shameful
But it didn’t seem to help that April
I ponder on if the **** would help on me
If it would relieve stress better than tea
If it would help calm my anxious seas
If it could possible set me free.
Now I’ve never danced with Mary Jane
But some people say that she can drive you insane
You only have to let her in your brain
And she’ll take away some of that pain
The smell of **** comforts me and you might not understand
But don’t you dare try to command
Or try to demand
That I am too young to know about that greenland
When my sister committed suicide
A part of me also died.
But now I have identified
That’s it’s the smell of **** that makes that part alive
And I guess you won’t understand until you’ve cried
While you stood there discovering that your pothead sister had died
And began screaming as your two greatest fears would finally collide
And your world is overtaken by Grief’s high tide.
You know the surfer boy told her to hang ten
And I didn’t think she would let those words that far in her skin
But when the clock struck ten she had committed her deadliest sin
And I swear to God that a joint was the last place she had been.
ROBBED BY TIME

Once upon a time,
A friend in need at all times,
Time was such my best friend
And so we hopped till the end.

To my castle he'd come,
For he was always welcome
Any time he ever wanted to,
Something my queen loved too.

We'd ramble woodland paths together
As he reeled off one story after another,
All day long having a good time
Till when castle bells could chime.

Time was not of this world,
But a great war lord
Of a very far away land,
King unto the realm of fairy land.

He who had a novelty crown
Bestowed upon him by a fairy clown,
A crown not of gold but of palest silver,
A precious gem from the fairyland silva.

With lurve in the air one morning,
My friendship with Time died aborning
When he chose to do something frivolous
Just when the Sun's rays were so glorious.

Time emblazed my heart,
Something that didst hurt
When he smiled unto my wife,
Such a great shock unto my life.

He gravitated towards her after a deep sigh,
Like a whirlwind, my mind whirled high.
He thus gallantly asked her for a dance,
And was granted a golden chance.

Keenly I watched this flint-hearted boy,
Thought him skint but feared not nor coy.
With alacrity and in broad day light
Together they cwtched in delight.

He whom I always enjoyed with the wine,
There enjoying with a queen of mine
Whilst committing mischief;
This friend of mine such a thief.

Time whispered thus into my Queen's ear,
Whispers I could hardly hear:
Alas! He promised her the moon
For they'd eloped by noon,

To places strange I might never have a clue,
To where mortals have never dared walk to,
All the way to the realm of fairy land,
Such, such a very far away land.


©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros
10th Aug 2016.
I've been sick for the past days though thank God I'm here to share and sip from the well of poetry once again. Oh how i missed you my dear friends! Honestly, I'm all thankful to the Almighty for "TIME" didn't vanish away with my life all the way to fairyland the same way he did to my queen!

#Time #Lonesome #Me #You #Relationships #Melancholy #Fairyland
A Mar 2011
The Maybaline raccoon eyes stare
full of synthesized tragedy
for a life
severed from the parents
she clings to so dearly.

The black-flaked fingertips dance
without any real purpose
for entertainment
and communication within
a hand-held device.

The perfectly messy hair lays
upon a head full of thoughts
for friends, enemies, and homework
yet the ambition isn't
anywhere to be found.

She sees herself as different
but she really is the same
committing those high school crimes
That she pretends to be above.
Erin E Esping Jan 2018
I can remember people strolling down the damp streets
The smell soup gliding in the wind, what a sweet mixture
Potatoes and parsley tickling your nose
People wrapped up in torn shawls waiting in line, but content they were.
I can remember the clattering of teeth, the movement of lips
The expressions of ideas, so different in all,
No one was afraid to criticize, to call out.
People had a somber mood, no doubt about that.
But it was better than what was to come.
It was so much better.

I can remember the end of ‘29.
The dismal fall of our state, of our home.
Suddenly my walls were painted with bills of despair,
A cruel reminder of our payment that we can’t pay.
Since the Weltkrieg, I was told to hate those Amis.
They destroyed our Economy, and I know they wish they didn’t
Because in that vacuum arose a grim beginning
And in ‘33 our world as we knew was to crumble at our weak feet.
But I can remember the future was foggy, so we decided to walk forward,
Yet that walk was instead a sprint to ultimate death of ideas,
And a sprint to the death of peace.

I can remember the deterioration of our lives and freedom.
Nothing was being spoken of the crimes we were committing.
Our friends were being hauled away to not be seen again,
But they were not our friends, they were only to blame, we thought.
I can remember the bitter september of  ‘39
When we took our east neighbor’s home and called it our own.
Not knowing what we had started, we trudged forward
Handing 20 year olds by the millions gas masks and guns.
But they could not ward off the sins yet to become.

I can remember hating our deeds,
It went against every good and heartful moral.
My words were to suffocate in my own mouth.
Too afraid to speak up, but of course I was.
The harassment and suffering that would follow
Would be so emance I would lose all hope
Of a life that was worth living,
If I still had one.

I can remember the clearing of the smoke and gas,
The rising sun of September ‘45, a gleaming metal of promise.
And we ran out to the streets and cheered on our loss.
For our loss was our liberation, our emancipation.
And while our state layed dispersed and in ruins,
We were more put together than ever before.
Yet all good things must come to an end, don’t they.
And Berlin was cut and split once more.

I can remember the change in my street,
Named after that soviet hero, known as Marx.
His named controlled the Allee, and it was the farthest we could go,
Until the officers shoved us and forced us to turn around.
They say the sun rises on the east, but it really only shines on the west.
And this lack of sun drove our leaders fridged.
Calling for a blanket to insulate us in.

I can remember how cold it became in ‘61
The year our ‘needed’ blanket was made.
155 kilometers it spat on the pure soil of our destroyed home.
And when my neighbor tried to cross it, he was shot down
Blood of a friend tattooing the wall, ink spilling over like a broken pen.
Writing the grim truth of our situation, the lies trickling as a river.
If I could of protest it, I would of, but all those who did didn’t last long.
And if the hand on the trigger was not to pull it,
Gulags were to be our next home.

I can remember hating his deeds,
It went against every good and heartful moral.
My words were to suffocate in my own mouth.
Too afraid to speak up, but of course I was.
The harassment and suffering that would follow
Would be so emance I would lose all hope
Of a life that was worth living,
If I still had one.

“...Open this gate! ...Tear down this wall!”
The words flowed past the barrier into our ears.
A second liberation, a second emancipation.
Please freedom, please drag us by our head and force us to stand.
Let us stand with our brothers and stand until our knees buckle.
I can remember the arms around me, the arms of my lost son.
Pulling me up from the depths of the east, until I was standing on the wall.
The crowd cheering beneath us and cheering beside us.
Free, this is free, I am free, we are free.
But nothing lasts forever.

Many years later, many years have gone through time
My memories linger, dancing in circles
Reminding me of the pain and suffering we went through
To figure out what it means to be us.
I can remember the days when everything seemed lost.
I can remember the days when we were a disgrace
A mistake in world’s code, an horrific accident that was never meant to happen
But time has fading upon itself
For a brief moment we knew who we were.
And then we remembered all that has been done in our name
Now we insist on cleaning ourselves.

Destroy us. Rid us of all things that make us us.
Vacate the room of all bad, and get rid of all good too.
Nothing shall remain of us. Nothing good can last in our name.
At least that's what they want me to think, but I can’t and I won't.
I lay here, alone, abandoned, dying against my will.
My words suffocating in my own mouth.
Too afraid to speak up, but of course am I.
Silence is what keeps me alive.

I can remember being told to be silent
My mother whispering in my ear, “I know, Don’t say it.”
“If they hear you, you could be sent away.”
I can remember disclosing to my son through the thin black wire
“I can’t say it, they can hear it, and I would sent away.”
And now I lay in the skin of the scared man I have always been
Too afraid to fight back, too afraid to say my truth.
Unable to alter the past, and no control over the future.
No one is here to listen to the wise, to listen to those
Who have suffered through forced silence twice over.
But we are Germans, silencing is what we do.
Benji James Jun 2017
Rainy nights, cloudy skies
Chasing me all through my life
This time I've just had enough
People always said when you get older
It'll get rough, But I didn't realise just how much
When childhood memories are all you've got
Every day your telling yourself you can't give up
You live each day the way you've been taught
And you placed your trust in the one you love
But no one is receiving your call
This time nobody's here to break your fall

It tears you apart
Every time you play this part
You'll never be a work of art
Nobody will ever see inside your heart
Oh sweetheart,
You'll never top this chart

Give me the morphine
So I can't feel a thing
Take some more sleeping pills
To get me through this
Just let me overdose
I've never been this close
Put me to sleep, Sleeping Beauty
I've taken my vows
It's time to make these lights go out

Lost within these dark nights
You used to be so starry-eyed
Now all you are is mystified
That everybody's gone and left you behind
At one stage you were cool
But now everybody's played you for the fool
Thought you were all in the game
But instead, you've lost your mind
For committing to this crime
Shouldn't have tried to steal her heart
Should have listened to yourself
From the start and just gave up.
Now look who's dealing with a broken heart

It tears you apart
Every time you play this part
You'll never be a work of art
Nobody will ever see inside your heart
Oh sweetheart,
You'll never top this chart

Give me the morphine
So I can't feel a thing
Take some more sleeping pills
To get me through this
Just let me overdose
I've never been this close
Put me to sleep, Sleeping Beauty
I've taken my vows
It's time to make these lights go out

You've been driven insane
From all the blood rushing to your brain
And you thought you could outrun this train
You've been hit by love
Cupid what have you done
I've been hoping, praying and wishing
That she was the one
I tried to follow the dove of love
It lead me somewhere
I never want to see again
It showed me a part of me
That I never want to feel baby

It tears you apart
Every time you play this part
You'll never be a work of art
Nobody will ever see inside your heart
Oh sweetheart,
You'll never top this chart

Give me the morphine
So I can't feel a thing
Take some more sleeping pills
To get me through this
Just let me overdose
I've never been this close
Put me to sleep, Sleeping Beauty
I've taken my vows
It's time to make these lights go out

©2017 Written By Benji James
Lucy Tonic Nov 2014
You hypnotize me as you paralyze me
And you make me have ***** dreams that blur the lines of reality
And you’re the calm before the storm, you’re the weather when it’s warm
You’re my guiding light, you’re my satellite

Can’t kick the fever of the night when the moon is shining bright
Reaching infinity with you below city lights
And our love is so galactic, erases pillbox blues of plastic
The Milky Way is envious, we dig deep down to the earth’s crust

And no matter where I am, committing sins or making amends
You will always be my friend, no matter how the story ends
So let’s make a pact out of blood and powder
Let’s turn the stereo up a little bit louder
Let’s vanquish all our fears
Make our love like a light year
wm jones Dec 2011
Reminded me of that night:
from the 30th floor of your eyes,
your tears lept, committing suicide.
I shaved my head in the hotel bedroom
while you curled up in the shower.
When I heard the water turn off,
the bathroom lights were off.

I tried to calculate how many bedsheets
I would need to make a noose.
Then I decided you weren't worth it.

Sitting on the floor with you, I
watched your hopes collapse. You blamed
me for what I did, and a little for what
I didn't do. What I did do was hurt you.
I slammed the back of my head into the
wall I was against, you elbowed me hard.
You sobbed and I felt weak and I was. Weak.
I just wanted it to be over, for you to
stop crying, for me to have an explanation
that could wash this mess away.

I'm still trying to piece together exactly
what I really meant to say.
mark john junor Apr 2014
i dreamt that this ocean of words
that need to be spoken
had me committing folly's
and had me believing that in this all futures lay
like a simple song would suffice

a thousand years it seems
iv walked this road
to stand here looking down on this rain puddle
to look down and see the wheels that each raindrop spins
a thousands years since i drank a sip of its cool waters
since i took your hand looked into the deep waters of your heart
and knew your loves

we lay up in an old schoolhouse
while the summer storm passed
the broken benches and cracked glass
like the lessons taught there
flawed by the reality they had been learned with
so before night could strand us there
we walked on in the rain
lest like thouse old schoolbooks we could be
closed by flawed versions of our history's

by midnight we had reached fiveashes bridge
and you asked if we could stop to dance while the old man
spun us a tune on his old guitar
so i lead you in a waltz by starlight
like a raindrop i created a wheel for us to turn
and for a memory's moment we spun there
on the worlds edge
like lovers should
like two rain drops dancing on a summer puddle

all these words
like worlds that i could explore
but i tell you simple and true
that i would give them all up to have you here
have your hand in mine
so we could dance to that simple song
once more
like two raindrops in a puddle
seeking to be one
under a summer sun

— The End —