"confront" poems
She was a transgender scared to go around people in her school hoping they wouldn't run away from her cause now she has a different face on
Ever since she started in high school after getting influenced by one which wasn't her fault just her emotions got carried away.
Every time she goes to school she remains lonely like a person that is new to the school.
When she tries to confront her feeling to her friends thinking "how couldn't be my friend I regret ever meeting her" as she run rapidly also thinking" she is going to assault me like the rest"
When she goes to class people start sticking a post-it note behind her back saying "I want you for personal gain"
Teachers has also been thinking of expelling her from school .
Transgender is
life threaten.
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 3:52 PM UTC
The punitive silences,
the bad atmosphere they generate,
the mind-games they use to try to **** you in
are telltale signs of the toxic person.
It could be your in-laws, a parent, coworker, your boss or spouse,
a sibling, a roommate, boyfriend or girlfriend,
someone you want out of the house.
Toxic people want to make you miserable.
Especially if you're a decent sort, they hone in on you like a heat-seeking missile.
They spew their negativity and blame it on you.
They lie constantly, or twist the facts to suit their changing needs of the moment
and they never apologize (so don't expect an apology, ever).
With a toxic person there is no reciprocity.
They sprinkle their toxic dust on you. It makes them feel better.
Their ulterior goal is to demean you, to make you feel smaller.
They project their worst tendencies onto you,
find fault with you for traits you don't possess---
a shadow of the **** that lurks inside them.
They try to dictate the emotional atmosphere
through their attitude or twisted mood.
They drain you of your energy, bring you down,
They'll always find a reason why your good news isn't great news.
Their agenda is to cut you down to their size,
to manipulate and control
to **** you over while they play the injured party.
Confront the bully. Speak up to the manipulator, the trickster, the backstabber.
but beyond a certain point
there is no point in arguing with them.
Don't try to change the toxic person. You can't.
You'd have better luck changing an orangutan into **** sapiens.
Only a shrink could change them, and then only if they hit rock-bottom.
Don't try to justify yourself. It's a waste of time which would only draw you deeper into their net.
Set boundaries to keep their negativity in check.
Stop trying to please them.
Let that toxic somebody in your life know you're onto them
and they can't get away with it anymore.
Don't fall into their trap, don't get caught up in their life-dramas
or try to get them out of trouble. Don't let them instill guilt in you.
But try not to take their toxicity personally.
Remember, it's them, not you. You are not to blame
though they desperately want you to feel you've done something wrong.
If necessary (and if possible), delete the toxic person from your life and move on.
Know when enough is enough.
Saying good riddance doesn't necessarily mean you hate them, it means
your own well-being comes first.
Immunize yourself. Preserve your inner strength.
Set your own rules.
And, when possible, just walk away.
Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 2:23 AM UTC
Sometimes I feel numb
It's a strange, kind of sad feeling.
I can feel it in my heart.
And I know it's strange to say that I can feel my numbness,
but isn't it also strange to feel the itch of a phantom limb,
or the sorrow that comes with the excitement of something new,
only to realize it won't last forever.
It's really hard for me to control it,
I don't know why I can't.
If I could just rip the pain,
or lack thereof out of my chest I would.
In a heart beat,
no pun intended.
No one told me this could happen,
I thought there was simply happy and sad,
I didn't know there was anything that could fall in between.
All I want to do is to feel everything,
I want to love everyone.
I want to care about everything,
but it's so hard when this numbness keep sneaking back into my veins,
pulsing through my body once again.
Telling me to sleep it off,
or to stay home,
because it's easier to avoid than confront.
That's why I try so hard in conversations,
because trying is all I can do when it comes through.
This doesn't happen everyday,
it sometimes doesn't even happen every week,
but it's still tough.
Some days I am bursting at the seams with my love for the world.
Some days I care so much,
and I try so hard.
Then some days I cry,
for stupid reasons.
Because it's healthy,
because I need to.
Because sometimes the weight of the world is pressing against every bone in my body,
and I need to release it.
But some days I don't feel anything at all,
and it's a scary and foreign feeling.
Because I'm bursting at the seams,
and I only have so much thread to patch the holes,
in this worn, and stretched body.
So please just let me feel for a few more minutes,
I'd rather that than continue in this abyss of numbness.
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 3:25 AM UTC
Welcome back to your hometown
Nothing much has changed since you we're last around
Time never seemed to make its rounds
To visit the streets of your hometown
You've been away from this place for years
Never skipped a beat nor shed a lick of tears
So why do you find yourself back here
Thought that when you left, you made it clear
You swore you would never come back again
A promise you made way back then
You had your why's you knew your when's
Your old hometown was no way to live
As you step back onto Main street
You ain't felt this sidewalk since the 70's
You find yourself not surprised to see
The reason then you had to leave
On the front porch of your old house
You reach for the door before you chicken out
That's when it is you figure out
Why in the first place you left your hometown
You turn your back and turn away
To confront your demons another day
Where you're less scared or more brave
In what it is you have to say
So here it is another round
Of one handed goodbyes to your hometown
If you ever had your well deserved doubts
You're no longer welcome in your hometown
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 7:39 AM UTC
For the WIN! Heed to this facts
be aware of your thoughts your surroundings
discearn golden silence choose kind speech
practice patience understand self and others
practice good deeds enforce free will
confront defeat don't fear the unknown,
Change is good for the soul
these alone will mold
your heart and spirit soulto guide your life
to success triumph avoiding most calamities
revised: 8/01/18
Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 9:15 PM UTC
With, ADHD
You don't really get quiet moments.
Every sleepover I'm the last to fall asleep because I'm too hyper or I don't feel prepared and even if I'm exhausted I just have to get that song out of my head
When class is boring that's the WORST
I start to think of him
And what we could be
And how much I love him
But later I'll talk to him
And feel a pit of hurt in my heart
It's a contradiction I can't confront
Because I've already thought about every outcome and none is good.
ADHD is almost a type of anxiety
I can't
Stop
Thinking
At lunch time people beg and tell saying "WANT A CHAIR?"
I said "YEAH BUT I CAN'T SIT DOWN."
they laugh as if I was joking.
I feel the need to constantly be moving, constantly speaking
Because I've already found out, everyone wants to meet the funny guy.
I will be so tired I can't keep my head up after school but in my thoughts I am chasing after endless answers and questions to entertain who's next to me in hopes to make a good impression
Even if we talk
Everyday.
It's good to know I'm always hyper and have something to do but
Horrible to know
I will
NEVER
Be normal. Think normal, move normal, I take normal as boring and I definitely won't train myself to be that way.
Having ADHD ruins me but at the same time, keeps me from the rest and I don't know which is worst or which is best.
Jul 9, 2016
Jul 9, 2016 at 6:08 PM UTC
♦ ♦ ♦
She was an earnest devotée.
Her ideals, birthed in Chardonnay
were globally diverse (read: white).
A liberal bark preceded bite.
Her crystal clearer than her vision;
she provoked bemused derision
as she breathed intolerance
toward all who would not dance her dance.
She swooned for distant pagan tribes,
attuned to their exotic vibes –
rapt in multi-culti piety
strangely deaf to her own society,
judged by her as abomination;
unredeemed. The background station
always stuck on N.P.R.
(the soundtrack of her culture war,
Pacifica News and Democracy Nows,
and other progressive holy cows)
Her motherland a shameful mystery:
guilty first, and void of history –
its origins defiled, corrupted…
while she enjoyed uninterrupted
freedom to pursue her whims:
misguided one-world global hymns.
The sisterhood of hu(man) kind
was foremost in her earnest mind –
even should that same sisterhood
be sealed by her well-meaning blood.
Out on a date with global death
she hoped to unify the earth
in solidarity with causes
led by killers, warlord bosses,
thugs she never knew existed
who, if she’d met she’d have resisted.
Her theory landed far from her praxis
spun, by default, on an evil axis.
Hot with zeal she fumed and stormed
quite certain she was well-informed,
at benefits, non-profit functions
rallies, boycotts, left-wing luncheons;
warm with righteous spite for Israel,
aiding and abetting Ishmael
with fellow-travelers, like-minded
similarly hateful, blinded,
rattling sabers, scimitars, axes…
(lunacy never wanes, but waxes
hotter with the passing years
as activists confront their fears).
She finally shilled for the Intifada
(stopping short of reciting Shahada),
reaching out to the terrorist
with righteous raised progressive fist…
offering thus her neck to blade:
collateral to be repaid
by murderers who couldn’t care less
about her open-mindedness.
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 9:57 PM UTC
The earth's people are corrupted,
Listen to what I have to confess!
If there are emotions behind their motives, they will search and look into things which they should have been better off unseen, forgotten,
If their wish is to become alike a demon, they will dye their hand red,
If their desire leads them to be angel like, they will dye their hand in innocence and purity of the good deeds in order to achieve this goal,
The sweet poison of a lie's flavour is very sweet, likely to be consumed by those who are afraid to confront the cruel, harsh truth,
Bound in constant change, the true nature of a human remains, within the depths of their soul, somewhere deep inside, sealed away,
Admire the moon, as the remains, called corpse rots under stardust,
Does its reflected light begin to wander ? We will see, here at eternity,
After all, this natural satelite, becomes more distant due to tidal effects, leaving us behind, even if it is simply small steps it has taken,
Being forgiven from the endless purgatory, the suffering one may call
"Living" within the transience of this planet which comes to ruin through their greedy hands, desires to make more income and wealth
Drawn out in long shadows, through winding fate amongst strings,
After all, this is a pure stream of sadness.
~Umi
Apr 7, 2018
Apr 7, 2018 at 6:00 PM UTC
Un-Xplained… by Nirvana
How it feels
When we have telephone
But we can't talk
How it feels
When we have number
But we can't contact
How it feels
When we are near
But still apart
How it feels
When we are desperate
But no guts to confront
How it feels
When we can be in touch
But no such permissions....
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 2:58 AM UTC
☮ ☮ ☮
**Society needs more Social Justice.
Humanity needs peaceworkers.**
Peace and Social Justice must be promoted aggressively. There are inequities that must be addressed. Power is not equally distributed. Neither are resources or wealth. Neither are poetic gifts or vision equitably distributed. Unearned privilege is rampant. Poetry must confront this global crisis of capitalist exploitation and manipulation. Poetry must speak to the masses. Poetry must radicalize and inform consciousness to new levels of social change. Marginalized citizens must be empowered. All ****** gender-based, racial, religious, age-based, homophobic, xenophobic, and gynophobic bigots must be brought to see in a new way through our poetry. Community building and local empowerment are of the order. Our poetry must be global in scope – yet rooted and grounded in local community empowerment. Selfless acts of service to promote and increase Social Justice are needed. Lives selflessly devoted to establishing social justice are called for. Our poetic lives must be laid on the altar of the dis-enfranchised and unrepresented. We, as consciously aware poets, must advocate and speak out for those who have no voice.
We, as poets, must, through stirring words of Social Justice, embody through our radical verses the burning hope of a just and sustainable future. This future must become increasingly collective as formerly marginalized consumers become empowered community-builders – through our poetry. As poets of the sustainable future we will empower and inform. Our poetry must collectivize, entitle and enslave. We must speak with ONE VOICE: the voice of change and social justice. Our words will rise with healing in their wings and lift whole communities from despair to radicalized self-awareness in communities filled with strident, intolerant and maniacal practitioners of PEACE & SOCIAL JUSTICE. All poets who do not lay their entire creative and lyrical selves on the altar of struggle to bring CHANGE and SOCIAL JUSTICE will be LIQUIDATED by our own EMPOWERED POETRY. IN THE END WE WILL WRITE A PURE POETRY OF SOCIAL CHANGE, ALL IN CAPS, AND THIS POETRY OF SOCIAL JUSTICE AND EMPOWERMENT WILL BE READ OVER THE GRAVES OF ALL SELL-OUT, CORPORATE, FASCIST, SNITCHING, SELFISH, UNEMPOWERED AND UNEMPOWERING TRAITORS AND ENEMIES OF SOCIAL JUSTICE. IN THE END THERE WILL BE NO PUNCTUATION OR EVEN WORDS ONLY PURE IMAGES OF CHANGE + VISIONARY COLLABORATION IN SOCIAL TRANSFORMATION/MAYBE SLASH MARKS/OKAY MAYBE EXCLAMATION POINTS TOO BUT ONLY THOSE !
WHY? BECAUSE THE ONLY GOOD POET IS A LIVING POET WHO HAS LIQUIDATED EVERY FALSE POET NOT COMMITTED TO THE STRUGGLE FOR SOCIAL JUSTICE !
LONG LIVE POETRY IN ACTION THROUGH CHANGE!
WRITE/SPEAK/AGITATE
FOR SOCIAL JUSTICE & EMPOWERMENT !
**POETRY IS STRUGGLE☻
STRUGGLE IS CHANGE☻
CHANGE REQUIRES SOCIAL JUSTICE☻
SOCIAL JUSTICE BRINGS PEACE☻
PEACE BRINGS WAR☻
WAR BRINGS CONFUSION & DEATH☻**
(SO DON’T BE CONFUSED)
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
Dear diary,
I just can't explain the amount of thoughts that I have daily!,
that continuous mind charter that I have daily....!
I'm filled with thoughts, every minute, and every second of my life.
My mind just keeps switching from one thought to another,
& The amount of day dreaming....
well!!!
you know my silly screaming ??!!!
Sometimes, they are really funny!
And they keep making me smile,
so that I keep glowing!
But some thoughts...,,,
They are really too dark,
That ,when I confront them,
it breaks my heart apart!!
I'm like a confused soul,
who's in search of meaning of life...
Who's in search of peace ,
Who's in search of shine!
But the moment I start thinking,
ugh!!!My head starts cracking!!
I just can't concentrate on one particular thing !
Today, if I feel like being a doctor,
Tomorrow I might think of being an engineer,
& If today I feel like being an accountant,
Tomorrow I might feel like,
" I just need an Oscar...!"
An Oscar for what??
I don't know ...!!!
It's sounds too cool and looks good to show !
Will I work for that award?...
honestly, I don't know !
I'm so lazy,
I don't even get up to "shoo" a crow !
But hey!...there's one amazing part about me,
Guess what ?
"Anyone can come and speak to me."
Being an overthinker,
has also opened up my mind,
I don't form immediate opinions,
till I get a clear sight !
I really don't know this journey of thoughts well??!!!
Will it ever be stable ?
Will it ever end ?
But ...If it ends,
I'll die for sure,
But hey!,
I'm sure there is some way to cure!
Which way?
Hey !...I don't know again !
Is that way gonna be simple
or another amazing pain!
But hey hey hey!!! I don't know why did I write this ?!
Was I trying to find a solution
or was encouraging my thoughts already in a continuous motion?!
But hey!,
it's ok if you're an overthinker,
Try to be amazing my friend,
even if nothing is clear!
Jul 29, 2020
Jul 29, 2020 at 5:28 AM UTC
Being pregnant is very difficult
no one can understand what you are feeling
not even another pregnant woman .
everyone takes things differently and feels mixed emotions
there are some things that are inevitable
yet there are things that can be avoided.
there is so much i have brushed off in this pregnancy.
but there are somethings i just cant control
like my emotions
im annoyed
im tired.
im in pain
im heavy
things that every pregnant woman KNOW that they are going to feel
yet i cant control my crying when i get upset
or i feel like i need more in my relationship
this pregnancy makes me feel unwanted
unneeded
un-everything
things run through my head that i have no idea where they came from.
but then again these are things that come with the pregnancy
instead of me having all these cravings, stuffing my face and gaining 50 pounds
i just gain all these thoughts in my head that hurt me emotionally and give me headaches
yet who can i explain these things to, without they thinking im crazy ?
they dont understand.
especially men ,.
how can a man possibly understand and not say something like its pregnancy you know what you were getting into...
sometimes i cry at night because i crave an affection that i dont get .
yet i think, and i realize ive never gotten this affection.
ive never really been complimented in a really nice way like "you look pretty"
or something simple like that
yea ive gotten TONS of compliments from people that dont even matter
but the one man that does matter has yet to say it.
i think i have been one of the best women to be pregnant because i havent put my boyfriend through all the **** that i know
alot of women put their men through
and its by choice.
yeah sometimes i feel a major mood swing coming in
and i just go to the bathroom and relax
why push him away if im the one thats pregnant?
ive done all this for him !
what have i gotten?
although i may be upset at him right now that doesnt mean that i am saying all these things JUST because i am upset .
i am saying them because i mean them
i am saying them because i feel them
i am saying them because its what goes through my head and i cant confront him to tell him this without crying before even speaking
its been 8 years.
and i still dont know.
he may feel different things about me
but this is what i feel .
and what i have been feeling for a while.
its the simple things that matter to me the most.
and to him (although he may deny it) its the bigger things that matter.
Sep 28, 2010
Sep 28, 2010 at 8:12 AM UTC
I'm head starting the challenging life
12th grade decides my future strife.
Herein lies the mystery of tomorrow
Destiny of the mighty ship in my carefull row.
Not asking for incredible flourishing results
But delivering support for my stupendous work.
Not asking for imaginative unreachable marks
But holding my hands to provide the best of myself.
Not asking to pour elixir for hardwork devoid outcome
But strolling me through the gates of earnestness.
Not asking for your substitution in me
But to confront me with your intrepid grace.
Not asking for grade ten replica
But lending me the same earnest virtue.
Help me ignore the incompatible watchers,
To provide the least hope of comparing
Falling in despair in other's successful fruits.
But to help better and improvise my solitary results
And shelter me in your house of modesty.
No beneficial ranks but the submissive marks
that lends a hair to my cognitive efforts
To grant me light in the death of night.
Let me blossom as tranquily as the sunflower
Yet not vanish in the glory of jubliation
But gradually offer me petals
And extend the reliance day by day.
Mindful and heeding my compatible hardwork
Finally, let me conquer the glamorous colour
Of my utmost individuality.
Rehabilating the small hopes intro pristine reality
Aware of the hunger turning to lime light
To strike a chord for my year before.
Take me on your hands, float me through
legitimate mistakes, rip me apart in the wave
of unquenchable thirst and finally wrap me out as
a champion badge of jaded grade twelve.
Finally,
Bless me God, provide eternal marvels
Bless me God, honour the righteous path
As the testimony of your judicious grace
Bless me God, I'm starting life (grade twelve)
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 2:52 AM UTC
The shoes were red,
and stood at 7 inches high,
perfect to look sophisticated,
and to feel like she was touching the sky.
Everyone criticized her,
because they thought she wore them to get attention,
and co-workers would confront her,
to give her a ***** mention.
Only the people don't understand,
because she feels self conscious of her height,
and the heels are the only opportunity,
to make her feel alright.
. . .
The shoes were brown,
covered with mud and dirt,
shoe laces tangled in a mess,
and didn't have any way to avert.
People overlooked him,
when he wanted something,
because they thought he didn't care,
but who are they to be judging!
The truth is,
in fact he did care,
but didn't have enough money,
to buy nice shoes to wear.
. . .
The shoes were neon,
like the color of the sun,
they had bright shoes laces,
that he wears when he runs.
People thought they were ugly,
because they were off brand,
and they lacked the character,
that all the cool shoes had.
But really he was trying,
to just fit in,
but they would reject him,
every time he begins.
. . .
Be kind,
for everyone is fighting a conflict,
that you know nothing about,
so don't judge nor depict.
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 11:51 AM UTC
You and I would stand in front of my bathroom mirror and
just hold each other, naked, acquainting ourselves
with the strange, biblical union of joints and hair
and skin and crevices and curves that we make
together...
Fingerpainting reverently on your chest,
I'd kiss your freckled shoulder, eyeing your reflection as it melted,
falling for me again-- and you'd
tell me in return
that my eyes are beautiful, and that they are green,
just like yours.
They are brown, I'd say, and
laugh and
leave
you to
confront only yourself
in my mirror.
Every day that I stand again
in front of my mirror alone--
a similar but emptier amalgamation of joints and curves--
I could swear that my eyes
look a little bit paler...
like if I
point my nose up to the high hat on my ceiling,
with the fluorescent light spilling into them
the color could certainly pass
as the same green in your eyes and
I wonder,
and I hope
that being wrong all this time
doesn't mean I was wrong about you, too.
Dec 22, 2021
Dec 22, 2021 at 11:19 PM UTC
I love her with the seasons, with the winds,
As the stars worship, as anemones
Shudder in secret for the sun, as bees
Buzz round an open flower: in all kinds
My love is perfect, and in each she finds
Herself the goal: then why, intent to teaze
And rob her delicate spirit of its ease,
Hastes she to range me with inconstant minds?
If she should die, if I were left at large
On earth without her-I, on earth, the same
Quick mortal with a thousand cries, her spell
She fears would break. And I confront the charge
As sorrowing, and as careless of my fame
As Christ intact before the infidel.
5.2k
As snowflakes fell
You made your way towards me
You were glowing under
The silver rays of moonlight
Running towards me
As I stood still
Left breathless and steady
As you catch me in your embrace
I know I can't resist
I know you'll never let me
No matter how much
We remind ourselves that
This relationship is so wrong
I guess we just can't
Help being in love with
Each other's psychotic tendencies
If you only knew about
The war raging inside me
This conflict that slowly kills me
Whenever I confront this truth
That no matter how much
We try to adjust things
We were never even made
For each other in the first place
You clung to me tightly
Never wanting to let go
Tears falling down your face
Irresistible even in your saddest phase
I'm on the edge with you
Desiring you more than ever
Even when the world tells me
That we're totally bad for each other
You sink your nails on my arms
Hastily pulling my face to yours
Kissing me viciously sweet
Like the sweetest poison for me
And even when it hurts
Even when it makes me go insane
Even when I know its all lustful wanting
Everything you do to me feels so right
Tonight is a dangerous night
Lust hides beneath the passion
Love blurred by wanton desire
And yet I still want you to stay
The violent beasts that we truly are
Waiting to surface and be unleashed
As bodies dripping in cold sweat
Collide in a destructive union
You are my sweetest poison
You are my deadliest desire
No matter how much they say otherwise
You are the one I wrongfully chose
May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 10:34 AM UTC
**** ruined you.
It ruined us.
I thought it was me.
My fault.
I needed to change.
I did my hair, my make up.
I danced for you.
I dressed in lingerie and costumes but it was never enough.
I couldn't live up to lust.
Then I learned it wasn't me.
I was your love for ***********
Slowly this diminished my love, my respect for you.
Worst of all it destroyed me, and all my self confidence I had in my self.
I convinced myself,
*** isn't everything but everything else had seemed right.
Maybe we can learn together connecting emotion with action.
Conclusion ended up being your lack of desire for *** and intimacy with me. Could it be my fault?
**** was always just one click away from any fantasy.
I would confront you and express my concerns.
Trying to make the two of us work.
You only got better at hiding it.
*** became a struggle.
Neither of us could reach that ******
All you could do was blame me.
Then I knew....
You had the case of the prisoners' hand.
Could I wear more makeup?
What about white tipped nails?
Maybe I needed breast implants.
Now you want role play and ***** talks?
If that wasn't enough could I consider *********
I tried to wrap all this around my head.
Thinking maybe these things would work.
We could become a couple again.
You could never find satisfaction.
So there could be no compromise.
Soon I lost my interest in ***
It never seemed to bother with you.
I grew angry towards you.
Things began to come violent.
You pushed me twisting my arms and wrist.
Then threw me on the hardwood floor.
As my wrist began to bruise and swell.
How I missed being loved and cared for.
How I desired beautiful and emotional just plain naked ***
All I feel....is lying here depressed.
I'd rather stay in bed then walk into you.
Every time I see you I take a deep breath, Turn around, and walk straight to bed and begin to cry again.
I ask myself...
Why did I stay this long?
Why did I try so hard to fix something that was never there?
For 6 years.
I believed you loved me.
When in reality you were in love with ****
Feb 27, 2016
Feb 27, 2016 at 12:40 PM UTC
If you must know the truth
There are those just like you
Going through their struggles too
In this you are not alone
In this vast conspiracy
That is life to you and me
Daily knocking to the knees
In this you are not alone
If you find your needing help
With difficulty to work it out
With the cards that you've been dealt
In this you are not alone
Problems that daily confront you
Others have the same ones too
Under the sun there's nothing new
In this you are not alone
You find yourself at the foot of break
More wrongs than rights, mistakes you've made
Where there seems no save in this giveaway
In this you are not alone
You often feel like calling quits
As the world you're in no longer fits
Making no sense in all of it
In this you are not alone
Mark this moment down as truth
No matter what you're going through
You have me beside of you
In this you are not alone
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 8:52 AM UTC
I have been avoiding this for a long time.
Simply because I know how hard this will be.
Trying to find the right words is an impossible task
Every time I try to confront these overwhelming, hidden emotions my universe implodes.
Suddenly everything becomes meaningless.
Void of light,
Void of sound,
And void of emotion.
The only thing that is left is me.
Just that a ‘thing’.
Lost in everything where there is nothing to be found.
I try to force my way through this haze of confusion,
This inability to understand my own emotions.
This inability to let myself feel.
This ability to bottle everything up, and
This ability to stray so far from home with no trail leading back…
My tears are my only guide.
Full of everything that I have felt and have not let myself feel.
In them lay a world of understanding and clarity that will constantly be out of reach,
For we cannot read our tears.
They are tiny messengers with no message to deliver,
Even if we could read them, there would be nothing to see.
Always left to our own devices, our own thoughts, on your ‘own’.
In the midst of loneliness we must remember we are not alone.
The world is crawling with billions of people,
Chances are someone is willing to listen, because
We cannot read our tears.
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 5:53 PM UTC
The Mafia and the Pope
the Italian mafia wanted to take control
they wanted control of the church and all its wealth
the leader Anthony “The Boss” Gambatti sent his muscle
to secure an audience with the Pope
Johnny “the Eye” and his storm troopers
pushed by the guards
into the Pope's secretary's office
Arch Bishop Spinozza
sprung to his feet to confront the noise
Johnny “the Eye”, he got that name
after he lost his left eye in a knife fight
and replaced it with a glass oversized eye
that always looked straight ahead
a burning cigarette hanging from his lips
he got right in the Bishops face
“The Boss” wants a meeting with his Royalness
“and he wants it now”
the Bishop well aware of his visitors
and there violent ways
backing away from the smoke in his face
told Johnny that he would arrange a meeting
“tomorrow” he said “tomorrow”
Johnny cocked his head
so that his large fake eye was an inch from
the Bishops nose
flicked the ashes from his cigarette
on the shoes of the Bishop
turning to walk away
“tomorrow” he said
Anthony “The Boss”
dressed in his fine 5K Italian silk suit
leather gloves
black silk fedora
accompanied by his entourage'
walked into the Popes office the next day
he sat in a chair in front of the Pope's desk
“What can I do for you Anthony?” asked the Pope
the two had grown up as school mates
and had maintained a relationship
though not close
“Carlos, I think it is time we work out
a financial aggreement with each other”
“being that the church is known for giving,
I think it is time for you to give me some money,
a lot of money”
“I have many expenses to address”
“to insure that this happens”
I want you to make love to a woman”
“and if I refuse such a horrid task? quizzed the Pope
“I will begin removing all of your Bishops,
one every hour, from all over the world”
”and it won't be pretty” responded Anthony
The Pope, obviously shaken with the proposal
got up from his chair, his face in his hands
paced back and forth for a few minutes
“I will agree to your disgusting request
on three conditions” said the Pope.
“and what are those conditions?” asked Anthony
“1st this woman must be blind,
so that she cannot see who defiles her body”
“2nd this woman must be deaf,
so that she cannot hear any hint of who defiles her body”
“and 3rd your holiness?”
“3rd, this woman must have really really big ****
Gomer Lepoet...
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 9:47 AM UTC
Hold the universe inside my palms
I alone understand it is but a solitary dream
Between stars I make out memories
Connecting dots, forming images ingrained in my mind
I look in the unfilled depths of sky where suns have yet to burn out, remaining eternally preserved in an explosion of beauty lightyears away wondering about humans peering at their ambience through time and space
This isolated reflection I witness change in compliance with the predetermined path set in motion by the astrological forces of nature
Unstable
My hands must be trembling
Scared of sorrow and frustration they undeniably confront
The fear of the uncertain, the inconsistency of the unapologetic future awaiting
Solemn visions of an imperfect outcome, enough torment to push strength a bit too far over the edge
Fragile balance of peace and chaos resting within cupped desperate hands
Ignorant, the quickness of extinction among synapses in the cavern lighting the entirety of my skull
Pinned under familiar self-induced delusions
Galaxies silently begging for permanent freedom
Such fate to let their wishes dangle ignored
Urges within bursting, released
That moment I also give in
Forcefully close my fingers into a fist
Instantly crushing wild constellations scattered around my consciousness
A great deal more fragile than realized
Once unshakable destiny budged a millimeter by one lone act of rebellion
Against a powerful pull the majority pretend is rigid
Elusive control by way of self-combustion of life's temporary illusions
Proof one touch can fell worlds of fantasy
Founded on fiction
Or maybe
Reality
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 1:29 PM UTC