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Monica Mourad Aug 2011
Strength*  
An image of a man
Who has been weathered by the hands of time
Stands tall refusing to fall
As the world around him crumbles.

Eyes cold and distant
Clouded by a sea of sadness
Reserved and unbreakable he stands
As a million of emotions beckon him
*Cry

Scream
Do something…
Yet silence is all he allows to be heard

He watches helplessly as the unspoken words
Slowly fill the empty space around him
Acknowledging the solemn tear-filled eyes
That stare consolingly at him

While I one of the tear-filled eyes watch
The man …who to me is called grandpa  
Shut the world out
Letting nothing penetrate his solid exterior
A pillar of strength he stands tall
In the eyes of his heart-broken granddaughter.

Unaware of my admiration
He ignores the tears begging to fall
Fights the pain that is now spreading
Like a fire through every vein
Amplify his longing for the impossible
Breaking his heart of stone.

All this pain remains unseen
As he stands refusing to break
Unwillingly accepting that what he lost
Can no longer be found here…

His crutch in times of need
His shoulder to cry on
A friend that can never be replaced
All will forever be reminders of
The brother he lost.
Mitch Nihilist Sep 2015
the entrance to my mind
portrays an appealing demeanour,
but with a glance at the contents,
portrays an intervenor
towards the progression
of anything consolingly
appeasing

          or so I think

I keep pushing and
pushing until mist to dry,
a view to my loneliness
through a myopic lens
depicts nothing but self
at the following end,
a nearsighted perspective
allowing self-consciousness
to transcend into an abyssal
crevice leaving nothing but
self-blame scattered about
the exiting footprints

retrospect; permitting
history to foreshadow the
ending of every attempt
to let someone in,
I allow the spark to
grow to a flame,
putting it out in
attempt to prevent
and circumvent the
burning of the
one not to blame

the cancer in my
veins ignite with
every attempt to fight
for instances where i'm
not to blame
for instances where the
outcome is sane,
a love born a king and
deceased a slave,
a love resurrected,
mirroring death the same

the entrance is an inhaled cigarette,
that with intent of positivism,
paints the walls, dripping with benzine
illustrating their egress as
an opposing objective to
the goal in attaining peace
by companionship
When I wrote this, this was the last verse that I felt the need to remove for obvious reasons:

"the progression of this is
halted by one, a girl with
the ability to knock down
the walls i created with aspiration
to halt the disdained inhalation
caused by past refrain
caused by me
a girl so consistent that her presence
has turned the answer to my problems
into the answer to my long awaited plea"
Anais Vionet Apr 21
My bf works in Geneva, Switzerland. I go to school in New Haven. We Facetime a lot - but it’s not ideal.

“I wanted to tell you, that it’s been nice.” I told him somberly.
“What do you mean?” He asked after a moment.

“Well,” I began, “You know how I like to go down to the harbor and watch the ocean?” “Yeah,” he answered.
“Well, I was down there this evening and the sun plunged into the sea and it got dark. I think we’re all going to die.”

“Anais, you’re on the east coast,” he reported. “That’s true,” I confirmed (New York’s on the east coast and it’s 60 miles away).

“The sun rises in the east and sets in the west.” He explained. “ocean sunsets only happen on the west coast.”
“Really?’ I said, flabbergasted, “I never noticed that.”
“Yeah,” he reiterated.

“I have a confession,” I admitted, sighing.
“What’s that?” He enquired.
“I made it up, the sun and sea thing,” I admitted.
“For real?” He followed up. “Yeah,” I said. “Why?” he asked.

“Nothing happens, when you’re not here,” I disclosed, “It’s SO dull, I’m dull, I’m afraid of underwhelming you.”

“We’re going to die someday,” he assured me, consolingly.
.
.
songs for this:
I Can’t Remember Love by Anna Hauss
So In Love by k.d. lang
It’s the End of the world as we know it by REM
The end of the world by Skeeter Davis
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge: Underwhelm : to fail to impress or excite someone.
Fay Slimm Jul 2016
Back Then.

There was for us something so holy back then
in that lovely OtherWhere.

We found out-spoken feelings consolingly
warming and care became real.
Raising our faces to preordained fate we
found bliss within dreams.

There was something of glory about love in
that wonderful OtherLand

Absorbing out-pouring from duel openness
we took hope and believed.
Joy must have re-cloaked all heaven with
our beautiful secret.

Ever was lasting and Now was unsinkable.

Happiness followed a daily routine as Hello
impacted twin-souled contact.
Born then contentment with intimate rain of
reflective close pattern.

A state arose where death was unthinkable

Satisfied moorings meant patiently waiting
until change altered lonely.
Exchange of anticipation balanced each taste
of our myopic throne.

But health unexpectedly hit rocks and sunk.

As I paid the Boatman my coin of acceptance
mourning wept oceans of grief.
Sudden wrecked notions of OtherTime and
struck reality in raw hysteria.

Storms of aloneness drown reason and clung.

Yet different horizons within saline's fall gave
never-moreness clearer vision.
Wait would not be outgrown but tears which
recede can reach appeasement.

Scars back then were eventually fleshed over.

Conciliation accepts calmer seas if heartbreak
makes enough concessions.
Future togetherness in a new OtherPlace will
prove better without an aggressor.

There was for us something holy back then in
that treasured OtherWhere

and will be again.
Norbert Tasev Jan 2022
I didn't want to speak to a camp of non-flatterers, but he was brainwashed in the ditch pit of this Age to someone who was open-
 
With a spirit, he still understands acceptingly! In his earthly living rooms, I could well have found a heart-warming true home; as a vagrant, unfaithful stuffing Tolerating the Occupation of Executioner-Time Times - because I am forced to - still endure! Celebrity-chasing celebrity chopsticks flattered to each other from late dawn to sober nights! With uncovered *******, yet in armor-armed Solitude, I will stand among you! And I am forced to endure the blunders of my prodigal misfortune with charlatan smiles!
 
Today, rat souls are either glorified by others in a proclaiming loudness, or are galloping! As insidious servants of nothing, they began to viscerate the base of our easy-to-build career! "And I have warned and confessed to all, if they have heard: Beware, for the Spirit has fallen into the deep and will fall down with the falling pay!" Many have already deliberately distanced themselves from me! With vigilant patience I warned others of the Nobles with destruction!
 
A judgment that foams on the potted lips of flatterers is reprimanded: What has this insidious, paid Age made of skeptics, not of those who trust in themselves?! Even from the constantly licking handshakes of licking my feet but I was disgusted; remembering can keep many-sanda Promise! "Consolingly beautiful books should not be left to fend for themselves!" I would have to believe that the Galad Man might come to his senses and get better
Norbert Tasev Nov 2020
I didn't want to speak to a camp of non-flatterers, but he was brainwashed in the ditch pit of this Age to someone who was open-
 
With a spirit, he still understands acceptingly! In his earthly living rooms, I could well have found a heart-warming true home; as a vagrant, unfaithful stuffing Tolerating the Occupation of Executioner-Time Times - because I am forced to - still endure! Celebrity-chasing celebrity chopsticks flattered to each other from late dawn to sober nights! With uncovered *******, yet in armor-armed Solitude, I will stand among you! And I am forced to endure the blunders of my prodigal misfortune with charlatan smiles!
 
Today, rat souls are either glorified by others in a proclaiming loudness, or are galloping! As insidious servants of nothing, they began to viscerate the base of our easy-to-build career! "And I have warned and confessed to all, if they have heard: Beware, for the Spirit has fallen into the deep and will fall down with the falling pay!" Many have already deliberately distanced themselves from me! With vigilant patience I warned others of the Nobles with destruction!
 
A judgment that foams on the potted lips of flatterers is reprimanded: What has this insidious, paid Age made of skeptics, not of those who trust in themselves?! Even from the constantly licking handshakes of licking my feet but I was disgusted; remembering can keep many-sanda Promise! "Consolingly beautiful books should not be left to fend for themselves!" I would have to believe that the Galad Man might come to his senses and get better

— The End —