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English Jam Apr 2018
Sitting in some car in a forgotten parking lot
Grey marks the skies
Lush green plants peeping in
The wildlife of concrete and paint makes the perfect background
For
Little ***** of liquid heaven falling on my windscreen
And some music to complete the scene
Each guitar line synchronises with each raindrop
Each blast of power thunder hits hard like heavy metal
But the soft clouds, the gentle ebb and flow lull me to sleep
Whispering, persuading me to dream
But I really don't want to miss this shard of time
I never want to lose little moments like these

A silver raindrop is born by landing on my car
Crash landing, rather
The bubbling pocket of mystery travels down
Swerving and slamming into other fellow pockets in crime
It's life cycle completes when it reaches the bottom
It races to it's death, unable to stop gravity's plan for it
Each drop morphs into another, making a wave
The rain weaves an intricate web of waves
All strutting their sparkly magic before me
I sense a metaphor for humanity creeping in
Millions of crescendos growing about
Too concerned with their internal politics to worry about others
But I stay focused on the beauty all around

I wonder if heaven has rainy days
If so, this must be one of them
Damp auburn leaves cling to my shoes.
A wind whistles through the wood,
Making a whirlwind of the waterfall's spray
And leaves flutter to the ground.
Cold sunlight filters through the trees,
Casting a soft green light over all
And now you are the only thing my eyes focus on.

Shaking hands clutch at my camera;
I want to capture the beauty of nature
Now that I can see everything.
Winter's shadow no longer has a hold over me.
I can see so much.
The way the cacti grows so intricately,
The way the tree root grew through rock.
And yet,
Looking through my camera roll,
All I find
Is photograph after photograph
Of you admiring the world.

It's not fair
How the sunlight hits your white eyelashes
And how your blonde hair barely fluttered in the wind.
It gives me butterflies when I look into your brown eyes
Just through the photograph that you never knew I took.
You were watching me,
Thinking that I wasn't watching you.
How could I not?

And those brown eyes
The colour of loam
The kind that is always warm
That is always soft
I stand in the garden with my feet buried in that soil.
When you want to kiss me
Then your eyes go dark
As if it has just rained on that loamy ground.
Petrichor is my new favourite smell.

My body reacted whenever your skin brushed mine.
Especially
When you grabbed my elbow to support me.
I thought I might fall
And not because I tripped,
But because you turn my insides to jelly
Just at your touch.
It's too late to catch me...
I'm already falling,
Falling for you.

It makes my cheeks burn when I remember,
When I remember how you kissed me
And what you reduced me to.
A stuttering firetruck with sweaty palms,
But I find some comfort
In the fact that I can make your heart beat faster
Just by being near you.
It scares me, that I could have any hold over you.
I didn't believe that I could have done that at all,
And here I am, lying on your chest,
Listening to your heart beat.
It doesn't lie.

You melted the ice that encased my heart
Like a warm summer sun.
Your cold hands brought warmth to my bones.
I've never experienced heat like this,
It's making me want more than I should.
I am terrified to get too close to you,
You might burn me.
I have never met someone so careful with matches
You don't let them burn your fingers or mine.
I feel different with you,
And it looks like for the better.

I've never felt so alive
So on fire
Electricity courses through me
When your lips brush mine.
I feel a static crackle around us
And it snaps and coils.
The energy dissipates.
I have to pull away,
I feel like I've gone too far too fast.
I've been burned
And I still crave more heat.

My hands have gone cold
Yours feel warmer
You have a part of me now
To keep you warm, come Winter.
I left nothing for myself.
Now I'm a dry Autumn leaf
That fluttered to the ground
Only to be crushed underfoot.
I can't put my finger on it
Even though I've distanced myself
Like the Winter from the Summer
I'm still so drawn to you,
Drawn to your warmth.
Is it that I'm cold
Or that I know I'll never come so close to Summer again?
an erratic story for my erratic love
Traveler Sep 2013
I am not real
I am only an illusion
Perhaps that's confusion

Imagine such a dilemma
All the Time believing
Yet a thought can be deceiving

Existence is subjective
This ink that you see
Isn't really me

So why be concerned
No need to discern  
Give no thought to agree...

This really isn't me.
Traveler Tim 4-19
A simple fact is,
if I so choose,

I do not have to believe anything.

Unless I wish too,
so climate change,
        as far as I am concerned,
     -climate is caused by God.
Dawnstar Aug 2018
Down in the valley of the fleeting stream
Parched Sudanese tongues crying to you
Below, below, the sacred Nile
Pestilence took my sweetheart

She was dark, now she is blue
Like the cataracts dividing the stream
And the tearducts dividing my eyes
Below, below, the sacred Nile

Torn in our tumult
From the bleak savan'
Starve like we all her cherrious face
Now forever blemished

Therefore let us dine on hardtack
Suffer for the things of the marble world
Below, below, the sacred Nile
Where we'll go and prosper

Go receive heaven's reward
Long, long, the vaporous mile
Fast along the toiling road
To the land of reward, we go

I compared her to a flower
Fair a fragrance as ever conceived
To think her smile is a nest for ants
Below, below, the sacred Nile

Change these feelings about me!
I am eager to see her again
But I won't obey the winds
Below, below, the sacred Nile
As far as fragrance is concerned.
A song.
Shang Dec 2013
I am a
    figure of speech
           for the permanent solution
                of a temporary problem.

                you were the universe
          expressing it's depression.

         oh,
        how concerned you
     certainly always
   were.
  in total shambles-
I anxiously awaited
as time cleverly excluded you.

I now face this hurling semi alone.
(C) Shang
From whence we tip to toast the Cocktail new
Too pricey for a Sip, if you ask me
Still, those Pubbers demand your Freshest Brew
Either for Show or Truest Cheers that be
Now who composed the Price which I complain
May rob my Wages on half-month's budget?
You have Defense, though: Is that my Domain
To liver that Sign out of my Pocket?
I suppose either way Purchased or not
Those Senses concerned will take no Notice
With Baskets fare, Bread and Butter forgot
Mix the Lager still Best Friends acquiesce.
The Currant still topped, which to Celebrate
Ignore the Side-Bugs; Light the Good Debate.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
I would be Concerned when you clicked your face,
Dotted with Spots hungry Mosquitoes bore
But why must you advertise such sad grace,
Your Promising Suave many Girls adore?
I told you to care for yourself once again
And preserve your Form from such Allergy
Lucky they found it Cute, and cried out: "Ben!
Come play with us. We won't find it Funny."
Don't Worry. They're Serious. Try to Believe
How your Charm treats you Special as you are
Look! Your Windows open. Ready to Give
That One Direction to your Guiding Star.
And this from him: Your Dad's Loving Light shine
Becomes the Best of YOU; His Heart in thine.
#benjdaley
Zeeb Jul 2018
Tool of desperate confrontation
Object of pride for a grateful nation
In Baton Rouge on the mighty river
Kidd rests proudly
376' length overall,  Fletcher Class destroyer
Like every ship, of oil she does smell
When I boarded her, she had something to tell

I was with a scoutmaster, my son and the boys
Concerned with their fun, and the making of noise
But late in the night, as quiet set in
Kidd started whispering, to my within

She spoke of the men who gave up their lives
Their children, their girls, the tears of their wives
Thirty-eight men, in fiery fuel
****'s agony touched, a death so cruel
Fifty-five more, burned badly that day
Defending our country, our homage we pay
Visiting sailors will stand at attention
… and for a young Kamikaze, scarcely a mention

The big war was over, Kidd passed her test
Now to San Diego, for a permanent rest
But as men will prescribe, it didn’t last long
Kidd went back into action, near Korea’s Kaesong

When in Baton Rouge, you can visit the Kidd
If you’re bold, listen carefully, just as I did
You'll get half of the story, the rest we don't know
The men who have fallen, to Kidd's mighty blow

Let's set now a new tone and have us some fun
The Kidd's crew were pirates but they didn't run ***

Those flat-tops were fancy, their flyers elite
In the galley was ice-cream, their reward and their treat
When a pilot was downed, Kidd quickly steamed
Then radioed the skipper, "your man for  ice-cream"
Megan Parson Feb 2018
With a letter to my love,
Flies away my pet dove,
Unbiased by what it contains,
Or by the ink blots and stains,
Concerned only of her kin,
Lest she be doomed to a bin.

So is my lover and I,
As we stare up at the night sky,
No wall nor vault can keep us apart,
Live only to love, until you depart.

Live for me, you may say,
But not one day will I lay,
Alone sans your sweet embrace,
I, your steps shall retrace,
And live and love you till eternity,
Ends its days of bliss serenity.
Envisaging lovers in the 18th Century. Hope we all find true love, Happy Valentine's Day !!
Charlotte Jul 2018
Some truths are told in anger,
Some truths are told in vain,
Sometimes there’s value in candor,
Sometimes truth just causes pain.

Some truths told aren’t told on purpose,
Some come out without consent,
Some when told do a great disservice,
No matter how honorable their intent.

Some truths are never told,
Away in drawers they’re kept,
Things gilded still shine like lustrous gold,
And dry are tears long wept.

I once had a truth I tried to speak,
But it was spoken by another prematurely,
I saw it happen, my voice was weak,
I handled it like a child and far too immaturely.

What was exposed could not be taken back,
It was a point of no return,
I was indignant, it all turned black,
I wanted the world to burn.

And burn it did,
But only mine,
Down hard I slid,
The real world was fine.

With time gone by, I must admit a lesson I learned,
The truth really does set you free,
But to whom my truth concerned,
I can only apologize, it should’ve come from me.
Shang Jan 2014
Hello mother,
   this is one of many letters
I've never sent you.

This is my concern that you
   aren't all too concerned about me.

I sometimes write this letter,
   fold it up into four rectangles,
seal the envelope, and print
    your name and inmate number.

i'm allergic to dust
and these dour, dusty pages have long outlined me as unsympathetic


I, also, often wish that you
    were one of my mothers
that have passed away in my
    twenty-two years of life.

I don't expect you know this.
    I only expect that you'll never understand.

I remember the day I ran my grandma over,
    'cause I was too stubborn to press the
brakes of the first bike my grandpa bought me.

for that, i am sorry - i just didn't want you to take me home.

Although, now, I also wish I would have called
    you mom and dad.
Instead of great-grandma and great-papa.

I don't expect you to know a thing about me.
    I only expect that you'll never attempt to learn.

I don't expect you to know any of this.
    I only expect it to never cross your mind.
(C) Shang
absinthe Jul 2018
sat next to the man with two phones
i asked him to hold my hand
and he laughed  

sitting in his ‘96 civic
for three hours we fell asleep
till six since three

he’s one of the many men
whose substance
far from the moral field
leaves many men with little substance
and you and me victims
of victims of you and me

he’s the type who feeds fiends
and he’ll keep making a killing
off children we perceive
as grown men and women
living to **** themselves
it’s how he makes a living

don’t him you belittle
for you are no different  

i know the thought makes you livid
you wish he was lined up and shot with the likes of him
but your white lies are their white lines
and the front lines in his line of business
so you would lie alongside and
wrong right
where you were digging

as far as i’m concerned
he’s not a man without substance
and one of much substance
one of few and far between
and certainly could you defeat

because while you let savages ravage me
he held my hand for free
and never demanded their standard fee
of an arm  
and a leg
and everything in between

.
Eryck Jun 2018
I'll  do nothing...
bad in life that will make my mother cry.
You can disgrace me, debase me, tie me to a railroad track.
But once the tears flow from my beloved mother, there's  no putting them back.

I'll  do nothing, bear this in mind and hear it,
I'll  do nothing that will diminish her spirit.
I  wont let evil near it. 
 I'll honor her by being like her, and proudly cheer it.

    A mother is nurture, she is the birth of nature.
A teacher not a taker, a mentor not a faker.
The ultimate God given talent, a human being maker.

She forsakes hers for the needs of  yours,
with dreams of high aspirations of her off- spring for,
nothing less, till their health and happiness soar.

Who else in this jaded,
complicated,
world gives unconditional love.  Who else.
Who else has you in their thoughts expressly, wantonly.
Who else has you in their thoughts religously, constantly. 
 
Concerned about your wants and needs, worries and dreads,  
doesn't want to pry, so she prays for you instead.
Who else.
No one else!

I'll  do nothing bad in life that will make my mother cry.
Happy father's day. Sorry dad.
Second place, in away, ain't so bad.
kyle dionysus Jul 2017
You shouldn't be worried about these wounds that you have caused me, even if they are still bleeding, but rather... you should be concerned about the wounds that I am going to cause you, unlike my wounds, yours will never stop bleeding.
Otis Feb 14
Held to a standard
seen by railing
and applause
You were a child
shimmered in the light of the lord
borne like good intention
on collision to wither

You were motivation choking
on a baseball bat
that kept suicide a delusion

On the gleaming days
of no attention
xanax and marijuana
made **** sure to suppress
your snorting aggression

but you were not the pig you thought you were
not the skinny boy alone

dressed in underwear and angry thoughts
you were not separate from the woods you knew
but a spruce with arms and legs
you were not a crying cave mongrel
You were a child
and this has never changed
it's never been on you
but through you it has moved
be easy without anger
this is where you fill yourself
tabitha Mar 2016
i will have it all some day,
as my "it all"  has nothing
to do with gilded halls &
shiny floors & iron doors
(anymore)
i am now concerned with
Better Things -- like
Love. and Order.

but oh, when i say i will have it,
& that i will have it all, i believe
myself!
more than i've believed
anything or anyone, ever at all.

when i say that; when i say
i  will  have it, &  that i will have it
all,    he   looks  at me  strange...
his eyes light up in bright green flames
like  a  pretty man  would
look  at a  silly,  deranged
little doll.  skeptical.  
annoyed.
as if the world has already graced
my porcelain skin with enough lace for it to be a sin
he has no idea what it's like  
to  be a  doll, at all; our pockets
are much too small and we are expected
to sit on shelves all day long .
he thinks that my all,
the "it all" of a doll,
is the "it all" of all....
a life of beauty and
wallpaper art,
of letting people dress you up
just to tear you apart.
he is.... jaded
by interrupted dreams,
and faded
by Jäger.
i have posed in his hands, to see his smile
i let him know
i want to know how he could move me
finesse me, brush my hair, confess to me.
not to then to lay me down, and forget me.
i am very familiar with the shelves of his soul.

he buttons his sleeves,
and goes on to his lunch affair;
his heart falls out when he jests/deflects.
he lets it lay there.

we are different kinds of hollow
Perched before the mirror,
my eyes open to see
the greatest of loves there in front of me

With a smile, a chuckle,
a nod and a wink
I’m falling in love above my bathroom sink

My ocular captions
are fixed in a gaze
and neither denies
our ****-worthy ways
Never before
have I seen such a marvel
Brought almost to awe
yet I recant such sparkle

For my status is equal
or better than such
I say with full modesty
(as if I must)
The greatness exuded
Displayed on both sides
It is something that I
and the other can't hide

All of those who now know
and all those who shall see
will admire and greet us
down on bended knee
Consternation displayed
only to be outdone
by illustrious gestures
to this royal son

But enough of the rest,
there is just you and I
“All of those poor, poor people”,
we say with a sigh
They will truly not know
what it is to be us
When you don't have to worry
And don't have to fuss

This supremacy life
is a difficult one
My heart would feel pity,
(If I had one)
Instead it’s disgust,
disdain and the like
The fuel that's propelling me
forward with blithe

Still across from me now,
a reverent sight
Another near equal
and one who just might
be the only one worthy enough possibly
To stand here beside me for others to see

They think they all know
but know nothing they do
It's the jealousy had by them
for I and you
They’re like chlorophyllic plants
Dripping in so much envy
They try and they try;
They try to prevent me

From being the greatness
I know I can be
If just given a chance
Then perhaps they would see
But alas, in the end
it doesn't mean ****
What I care for is me
Only me
and that's it

Except my love for you
It's so deep can’t you see?
It is real
I can feel it
I truly believe
Only you I can I trust
The one person who matters
The one I turn to
when life breaks and it shatters

All others are pawns
I can move on the board
Sacrificial pieces
for falling on swords
No dispute; I am king
Come stand here with me
It’s us versus them
And trust me they’ll see

It might not be today
It might not be tomorrow
But it will be soon
when they join me in sorrow
Make all of them pay
For what they’ve done to me
For the pain they’ve inflicted
Their fault, you will see

Anything that I do
Even though I will try
They keep holding me down
No idea; Don't know why
They are all out to get me
So plainly can see
But one thing you won't see
is not the last of me

Here, take my hand lover
and come with me now
We'll go out in the world
and together show how
Their pathetic existence
can benefit us
We may step on some ants
But there's no need to fuss

The hole that is empty
That is our damnation
Use things superficial
Instant gratification
It's a short-term "fix"
But will make-do for now
In our path, leave destruction
This much I will vow

Happiness, thoughtfulness
or concerned empathy
Some examples of words
unfamiliar to me
Therefore, no one can feel it
Must feel like I do
Only then I'm complete
Feeling I belong too
Written: August 31, 2017 (revised February 3, 2019)

All rights reserved.
Omni Winters May 2018
Don't they understand?
We crave the very thing our loved ones are scared of.
"It isn't healthy! It isn't normal!
I'm concerned for you.
I'm worried about you.
Think about
what you're doing to yourself.
Do you think this is beautiful? Do you think you are beautiful? What are you going to do about this? You need help. I want to help you, let me help you. Look at what you're doing to yourself..."
Who the **** do they think they are to tell us how we should act or feel?
How would they know what we're going through?
People like us are strong. We have our goals
and intend to fight for them.
**** what they say.
I crave the unknown. I crave what others fear.
Sever my pain away and open up new
beginnings with your tool of mass destruction.

© 2018 Omni Winters
May 13th, 2018
I apologize for my use of profanity in this piece of writing. I tend to use a lot of it when I feel emotions such as anger and I feel like it is the appropriate time to use it, even though there are better words to replace it.
Umi Mar 2018
By my dear angel Sandalphon as he has been lead in my hand, leaving a clear trail of a cursive writing on a transient sheet of paper,
A crimson sight, so black that one would be caught in trance, reflected by unnatural light of a lamp flickering in the dark of the night, as his feather releases a sweet scent of fresh yet unused ink,
Together with Zadkiel's blooming and happy memories I then am capable to write such down, in an attempt to create poetry, focused,
The sound of scratchy, itchy, rasping echos through this room I inhabit, but already left spititually, engaged in the world of fantasy,
Word by word, the paper is penetrated by this pen, pleasantly, thoughtfully, gently sliding over it to not damage it by accident,
There is no need for haste, heartache nor rush, not is there the need to be concerned about this angels work, duty and his mission to accompany me throughout each and every writing which unfurls,
Alike a story from my mind, from my emotions, deepest wishes, cast on the physical realm with his help,
And once his strengh weakens, fades, loses might and goes out alike an dying ember he will be dunked in fresh ongoing determination, so that he can repeat his duties with exuberance, joy
Casting a smile on my face once literature has been created,
As then I lay my dark knight, my servant for the night to rest,
Until another poem has to be written and his duty awakens him,
After all, in this dreamlike tale it is well to remember;
You don't have to die in a dream

~ Umi
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