"conspired" poems
'Healer' time take thy poor, black sheep,
and stop it from wondering
in the dangerous corners
of the mind,
because heaven and hell collided
inside a body and in unity they came
in the presence of all those
who conspired to it.
From the frontal to the occipital lobe,
dark thoughts obstruct
the brain’s watershed regions
and thanatos they bring.
The soul cannot take this coffin
anymore.
The stone is too heavy to carry;
sliding down and pushing up,
every night the pushing starts,
for the dawn, her courage to crack.
It may be like Hooke's law they say,
but bodies break down,
when people apply the extra force
and so do the souls,
long before.
Jul 20, 2017
Jul 20, 2017 at 11:10 PM UTC
Unloved and undesired
Felt like the universe conspired
Unfocused and uninspired
Tell me, will I ever get tired?
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 11:50 AM UTC
*It was then that the universe decided to play
Out a sequence of events that would lead to this day
She conspired with the sun
with the earth and the moon
With the rest of the cosmos
to create enough room
For elegant curiosity to bloom
Opportunity presented herself to his door
She gestured,
and smiled,
And said "wait no more"
He knew in an instant it was time to act,
Because chances are few, such a plain simple fact.
And so our protagonist seized that one chance,
For his soul to experience a new kind of dance.
It was all for a girl,
curiosity,
what if?
She moved with such grace, she sparked up a spliff
In the garden of dreams,
bathed in glorious sunlight
Her hair, face and smile
it all felt so right
And watching her glow and feeling her lust,
He knew it was time,
he knew that he must.
He leaned in closer for a taste of her lips,
She turned in towards him,
she shuffled her hips
And then when at last they shared that first kiss,
His soul was ignited and smothered in bliss.
And that was the moment that everything changed,
A shift in perspective, a life re-arranged.
For what then ensued through that day and that night,
Was nothing short or pure cosmic delight.
Moments come and moments go
Memories fade over time's forward flow
But the feelings remain, they are timeless and true
And no-one and nothing can take them from you.
So if you're attentive to universe's song,
and seize opportunity,
you can never go wrong.
For you might one day find where you truly belong*
Jan 21, 2017
Jan 21, 2017 at 12:01 PM UTC
What's your name?
Abubakar salim bin jahedee
sorry sir you will have to step back,
****** hypocrites,
how does my religion connect to terrorism,
I'm just a tourist in your territory,
no doubt,
my fellow brothers who dress like me,
act upon their anger due to ignorance,
and the quest for freedom ,peace& justice,
Just see,
What a curious coincides that is,
-but does that make me a terrorist?
Islam's a religion of peace,
yet they propagate islam with bad image,
Which is a huge damage,
Who's involved in horrendous crimes,
Who oppresses mere harmless civilians?
When we retaliate the world begins to hate and
start generalizing,
without realizing what conspired,
-does that make me a terrorist?
Its we muslims who suffer from terrorism,
all around the globe,
Terrorizing and vandalising isn't islam heritage,
Impressed and obsessed you are with your TV,
believing the twisted storys as it gets to you with
no atom of truth,
Corrupted by silly illusions,
Apportioning blame on hopeless islamist
seeking for peace,
Do you still think i'm a terrorist?
Develop some form of reservation when you
call us terrorists,
I need not to speak through my nose,
before you know islam is against all kinds of
injustice,
-How can I be a terrorist then?
Innocent muslims die everyday,
In the hands of american soldiers
yet we are never part of the mainstream news.
No one cares,
Take a soul of an american citizen,
Then the whole world will point at muslims as
terrorist,
how tragic,
-does that make me a terrorist?
As a Reflection & manifestation,
Of an expression to the element of truth,
My Quran says,
you with your religion & me with my religion,
-does that sound like words of a terrorist?
I dress in the most noblest of form,
Yet you criticize me while you breed monsters
in your country,
Man to woman, woman to man all in the name
of civilization,
All these leaves me spellbound,speechless &
riveted
In loneliness and seclusion,
Reflect over the word terrorism,
And you will see it has no connection with
islam,
i'm a muslim not a terrorist.
Jul 4, 2013
Jul 4, 2013 at 7:32 PM UTC
---
On February 15
a congressman
went out for to ski
never did return that day
he died "hitting a tree"
There was much
blunt force trauma
to the front of his head
elect of California legislature
now Sonny Bono's DEAD
- CHORUS -
Who murdered Sonny Bono?
How did that man die?
Was it all a "ski accident"
or is that just a lie?
Did he have information
of government high ups?
Laundering money for
drugs and guns
doin' things corrupt?
There is an old story
and you know it's true
The Kennedy's were
conspired against
and now Sonny, too.
---
Blunt force trauma
to the skull
but no broken ribs or knees
and no counter coup
to the brain
you don't need an MD
No coroner to tell you
somethin's fishy there
and the back of Sonny's jacket
**had a tell tale tear**
- CHORUS -
You won't see this on TV
It won't be in the news
all the links have been shut down
They have too much to loose
There's only one who's
brave enough
to convey this, you see
and he has had
attempts on his life
for telling you and me
- CHORUS -
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 6:51 PM UTC
the hundred year old stairs
wakes up from its dreamless slumber
to find the world has spun
for an infinity too long
it once roamed
and ruled
the household of Chathanathodi
making way to the rooms
upstairs
that conspired a thousand
whispered secrets
simultaneously
sprawling its termite-infested legs
to make way
downstairs
that injected an aura of
omnipotence
its laddery body was now a little chipped
and its creaky joints, a little shaky
but it didn't matter
as it was still conspicuous
and strong
like Hercules
leading unsuspecting mortals
upstairs and downstairs
to its universe of Gods
Shalini Nayar
© 2001
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 9:46 AM UTC
If I skip a heartbeat .. I would end up dead
You're tht one heartbeat I neva wanna skip.
I keep waiting for you , thinking about you
When the sun has painted the sky in pale tint of orange
Though I'm stuck in dis time lapse... I cud skip a heartbeat for you ...
Destiny conspired against us .. to separate us forever
Miles and miles I have walked ...searching for you
Evry thudder of my heart echoes wid your memories ...Coz I cud skip a heartbeat for you ....
I loved you to the point of zenith nd the pain as well tht you gave me
I hope to tranquil this pain of mine ..hence I cud skip a heartbeat for you ...
I'll always be waiting for you , coz hope is the only rule tht the human race has thrived on
Our destinies will collide again , once again the universe would conspire for you to be mine ...
and that day again ...I promise I'll skip a heartbeat for you ....
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 8:11 AM UTC
The worst thing about losing someone to death is that
you didn't actually get that chance to pay your farewell
When they leave,
they just left
Suddenly, their brain refused to consume the oxygen,
their heart refused to pump the blood to the veins
It was almost felt like all those organs and cells had conspired together and finally come to their final conclusion
There will be days when you feel like grieving
and mourning over them are as normal as breathing
And it's okay,
it's okay
No one will ever get over death of loved ones easily
mostly because the "what if"s and "if only"s that follows,
Because the most painful goodbye
is the ones that never got the chance to be said
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 10:34 AM UTC
In tales of old, on Mount Olympus high,
Where gods and goddesses roamed the sky,
Aphrodite, fair and beauty's muse,
But whispers tell of a love confused.
In affairs of hearts, her charms renowned,
Yet rumors spread, a deceit profound.
Her love, a tapestry woven with desire,
Yet secrets whispered, fueled the fire.
A cheater in the game of divine affection,
Her heart's allegiance sparked introspection.
For Cupid's arrows, not always true,
In love's labyrinth, confusion grew.
To Ares, god of war, she turned her gaze,
A clandestine affair, a dangerous craze.
In the shadows of Mount Olympus, they conspired,
Love's flame illicit, yet never tired.
The gods above, in their celestial court,
Witnessed Aphrodite's love distort.
For in her quest for passion's sweet embrace,
She left behind a trail of love's disgrace.
But was she a cheater or victim of fate?
In the realm of gods, emotions intricate.
Aphrodite, tangled in love's intricate dance,
A celestial romance, a fateful circumstance.
So, in the pantheon's tales of divine deceit,
Aphrodite's story, in whispers, we repeat.
A goddess of love, entangled in desire,
A cheater or not, the myths conspire.
Dec 2, 2023
Dec 2, 2023 at 10:52 AM UTC
What cruel twist of fate it is
that our paths were meant to cross
at a time when everything aligned
and conspired at our cost
We convince ourselves "another time,
a different life, some other place"
because karmic interference
is easier to face.
I wonder will there come a time
the pain becomes so great
that you abandon life with one unloved
and pursue a leap of faith
You see I lack the strength I need
to turn and walk away
and so I sit and wait in hope
you'll come to me one day.
Sep 14, 2011
Sep 14, 2011 at 8:25 PM UTC
we got a goldfish,
for my little boy.
a tank, some coloured grit, three plants not two,
must practise goldfish fung shu.
all the water testing guff
and of course a filter.
a sunken ship
and a treasure chest .
we paid the pirate...
and took our ***** home.
so we set Bruce.
( for that was the name chosen).
up in pride of place on sidboard.
the list, above,
was positioned after meetings of commision. water tested to the highest degree,
filter fizzing, wizzing,whirring.
Bruce swam in his bag
in the tank,
for a time as instructed.
then released to a slightly larger freedom.
he swam and swam,
golden scales a flickerin.
we, (that being, mr just about three and his dad)
fed him, watched him poo, and eventually,
read Bruce,
a bedtime tale or two.
one fish, two fish by Dr Suess went down a treat.
the little man then,
was bundled off to bed.
thoughts of Bruce left our heads.
the evening lengthened.
we retired to sleep the sleep, of ignorance it conspired.
for in our planning we forgot one thing.
a devon rex cat,
who has a bath weekly,
a penchant for tuna,
no top to the tank.
so we thank the lord
for Bruce. however,
brief was his reign.
now we introduce
to you....
Murtle the turtle
who has a glass pane,
sitting above her head.
just in case......
the cat likes, turtle soup.
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 12:07 AM UTC
Heading to the land of town,
On my face I wear a frown,
Not my usual silly smile,
Was going to cruise around the world this morning,
Okay, maybe slight exaggeration,
Would still be staying in this fine nation,
Where I could find you, be your girl,
Still instead all forces conspired,
Feeling stressed a little wired,
A week off denied,
She sat and she cried,
Bit tragic, to not be there and miss our magic,
Still one of those silly things,
Will be back in two or three hours,
At least for today I can write,
To write about true love, darkness and flowers,
The joy of work and all it brings!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 3:54 AM UTC
"Come, thou clear-voiced Muse, Erato, begin thy song, voicing to the tune of thy lovely lyre the strain of the children of Samos." (Stesikhoros, C7th-6th B.C.)
Upon a dim and distant telling,
Fared a maid of noble dwelling;
Rhadine was so beautiful,
Her suitors fought to claim her hand.
Unbeknownst, her father sold her
To a vile old tyrant soldier;
Rhadine sobbed, but dutiful
She boarded ship to foreign land.
Leontichus, her secret lover,
Swore an oath that he'd recover
Rhadine from the tyrant's grip;
He took the task of a deck-hand.
Many moons would find him weeping,
Ever watchful, never sleeping,
Till the day his mighty ship
Reached distant shore of foreign land.
Leontichus planned and conspired;
Cunning schemes would see him hired,
In the palace of the tyrant,
Where he could be close at hand.
There he watched, and there he waited,
As the nobles congregated
For the wedding, where defiant
Rhadine stood on foreign land.
Songs were sung and vows were spoken,
Then the tyrant brought a token,
Glinting in the bright sunlight
He offered it to Rhadine's hand.
Leontichus was gripped in sadness,
Taken by a sudden madness,
Running forth to save her plight,
He held Rhadine on foreign land.
Anger swept the tyrant's features,
Ridiculed by worthless creatures!
Taking sword, its sharp edge keen
He ran them through with his own hand.
As they lay there, deathly dying,
Midst the nobles, wailing, crying,
Leontichus held his Rhadine
And there they passed on foreign land.
The tyrant ordered their remains
Should scatter over hills and plains,
He placed them on a chariot,
And sent it with no guiding hand.
Late that night when all were sleeping,
Still the tyrant's eyes were weeping,
Knowing he could tarry not,
He ordered search of foreign land.
Days had passed when news arrived,
The chariot had still survived;
A soldier brought it to his door,
And placed the reigns into his hand.
The two were buried side by side,
Their hands were clasped, their arms entwined,
And there they rest forever more,
Two lovers lost on foreign land.
Leontichus and his Rhadine,
The greatest love the world has seen,
True lovers laying hand in hand,
Forever lost on foreign land.
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 12:42 AM UTC
Reluctant traveler on a dusty road
on a path not of his choosing..
As he struggles with his load,
he wonders what he is losing.
Feet blistered from the harrowing walk
face weathered from the sun
his hands, they bleed
his throat is parched,
yet water does little for the need.
He convinces himself it is for the best
And accepts it in his mind.
But his heart is hesitant to catch up to his head
afraid there, of what it might find.
Reluctant traveler on the choppy seas
distance has not been smooth sailing..
His conflicted soul he tries to appease,
and he wonders if he is failing.
Steadily he moves, still looking back to the shore
of the ocean inside his mind.
Meanwhile, waiting at his horizon’s door,
is what he had prayed to find.
She waits for him inside his eyes
so deep he cannot see her
behind the lens where truth resides,
she waits for him to free her.
But on his boat he drifts along
carried by the current’s roll,
still looking back, he misses the beacon song
from the lighthouse of her soul.
And so she waits
resting deep,
deep within the ocean of his eyes.
As off he drifts,
drifts to sleep
while the emerald currents reflect the skies.
Their paths, though seemingly guided
may never come parallel;
And kismet conspired with the stars and collided
but only time can tell…
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 10:31 AM UTC
A word we use
When we don't
understand
Why or how
Oh believe that
It is not luck
But the universe
Who conspired
To bring us
Together.
-D.D.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 8:46 PM UTC
In God We Trust, For He Invented Reasonable Doubt
In Courtroom of the State of New York, Part 62,
where the only decoration extant,
in gold leaf letters,
a magnificent joke,
In God We Trust.
Words so incongruous
to the real time drama,
a poorly acted Law and Order episode
of which I partake,
(as Juror No. 1,
ergo you may address me as
Mr. Jury Foreman),
they stun me into stupefaction
every time we enter and the
Bailiff pronounces with much gravitas,
"Jury Entering"
A potpourri of a dozen Manhattanites,
with wisdom acquired
by the singular virtue of
having attained the robust age of 18,
noteworthy for being free of
criminal record,
having been nominated
to sit upon the jury that will decide
the fate of one Eric B.,
for what he may have done upon West 11th Street
one Summer night in
June Two Thousand and Eleven,
If adjudged guilty,
New York State can take,
incarcerate him for up to
15 years of his life
Predicate felon by the age of twenty seven,
Eric's resume consists of
four felonies,
two misdemeanors
a wife and two little children,
and a partridge in a pear tree.
Facts turgid and muddy,
Eric tells a story
one juror calls a confection of lies,
no one murmurs
much disagreement in the
tiny, overheated room
we have been sequestered to
replay
the 2012 version of
Twelve Angry Men.
But I am not his peer,
nor am I a seer,
common sense says
if appearances are what they seem to be,
he aided and abetted
in the forcible taking of
a nice Connecticut lady's cell phone
with his brother who just happened to be
released from prison earlier that day
A convoluted tale
ripe with inanities is told,
upshot is our defendant's tale,
his robust defense,
portrays him as the unluckiest man
in the whole world,
a good Samaritan,
*{chasing after the thief,
** ** his bro}*
against whom events have conspired
In Manhattan can be a harsh place,
where the natives
a tough lot,
tougher than the Indians from whom
they stole it all.
Our bridges we sell to out-of-towers,
all it takes is one to say,
what the heck,
reasonable doubt is
a ***** to overcome
so let him go
Jan, 2012
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 4:45 PM UTC
She was a pretty, little mosquito
that conspired to fly away
once she'd gotten herself
Secretly
pregnant from him
Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 5:15 AM UTC
my dad was a workin man
mud on his boots and rust colored hands
cigarette in his mouth and Carhart pants
covered in sawdust from the projects he'd sand
we were family but how he saw us I'll never understand
and there was always my mother so he always needed another plan
we were technically a family, the few of us just us three
in a house like a boxing ring the loving was left up to me
four poor walls held together by two wedding rings begrudgingly
you could starve to death there if you were the one hungry for sympathy
my mom was a violent woman, a true fighter
hot tempered and her temper would start hot fires
at a young age I was inspired to learn to fight back because I was tired
of the beatings, of the yelling, of fake apologies, of the mire
we were a family but how she handled us I will never admire
she wanted us forever but the fates conspired
we were a family through all of the calls to the police
we were a family through the jealousy, the paranoia, and the deepening grief
we were a family that went to war and ignored peace
we were a sick body on it's knees that knew only disease and no relief
then of course we were a sailing ship forced on it's inevitable course
divorce
then us three became him, and her, and me, the source
now I have no recourse to heal those old sores
my dad was a boxer and my mom was a volatile pyre
fourteen years on that noose and fears are all I acquired
what transpired has made me hollow and lonely and scared of today because of the prior
and whoever tells you that you could survive that unscarred is the worst kind of liar
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 9:47 PM UTC
“I’m not the conspiracy theorist, you’re the conspiracy theorist. You're the one who believes that 19 islamic terrorists with box-cutters conspired with a bearded man in a cave then bypassed a multi-billion dollar security system to knock down 3 buildings with 2 airplanes. You’re the one who believes that buildings can come down in perfect free-fall and pancake form at free fall speed. I'm not the nutty conspiracy theorist, you are!”
Nov 27, 2010
Nov 27, 2010 at 9:51 PM UTC
Said darling daughter unto me:
"oh Dad, how funny it would be
If you had gone to Mexico
A score or so of years ago.
Had not some whimsey changed your plan
I might have been a Mexican.
With lissome form and raven hair,
Instead of being fat and fair.
"Or if you'd sailed the Southern Seas
And mated with a Japanese
I might have been a squatty girl
With never golden locks to curl,
Who flirted with a painted fan,
And tinkled on a samisan,
And maybe slept upon a mat -
I'm very glad I don't do that.
"When I consider the romance
Of all your youth of change and chance
I might, I fancy, just as well
Have bloomed a bold Tahitian belle,
Or have been born . . . but there - ah no!
I draw the line - and Esquimeaux.
It scares me stiff to think of what
I might have been - thank God! I'm not."
Said I: "my dear, don't be absurd,
Since everything that has occurred,
Through seeming fickle in your eyes,
Could not a jot be otherwise.
For in this casual cosmic biz
The world can be but what it is;
And nobody can dare deny
Part of this world is you and I.
Or call it fate or destiny
No other issue could there be.
Though half the world I've wandered through
Cause and effect have linked us two.
Aye, all the aeons of the past
Conspired to bring us here at last,
And all I ever chanced to do
Inevitably led to you.
To you, to make you what you are,
A maiden in a Morris car,
IN Harris tweeds, an airedale too,
But Anglo-Saxon through and through.
And all the good and ill I've done
In every land beneath the sun
Magnificently led to this -
A country cottage and - your kiss."
1.8k
When many days had passed, whence memories blurred with time
And in secret banks were stored, but left unguarded since their prime,
A photo whose fresh recall did unwanted thoughts evoke
Whose owner couldn't but lapse and yet-untapped sorrow provoke.
As if by divine scheme derived or as the Fates would have it designed,
The sickened world he saw with all its lust and love deprived
The illness was their absence, and the world he madly cursed
For its fate and his aligned, conspired and scheme rehearsed.
A more sorrowful realization into those memory banks recessed,
Such thought-provoking power there couldn't another photo possess
But how perfect that this one should a saddest thought impart
To whom unwelcomed gifts as such affected more the heart.
Aug 30, 2012
Aug 30, 2012 at 10:27 PM UTC
Where the devil if not here
In the room with me.
Surprised
In the kitchen
I slide
The chef's knife
Far back on the counter
To hide
Lest she loose control lost
Again, else
Might become real, that image
Now swimming
In her own soup,
Of a chromium-vanadium blade
Gleaming, swinging
In glorious swoop
Home to this chest or head,
Imagining it dead,
Tainted crimson.
Not the first time
I could be a toreador
Fending off his bull
With nearby chair
To save flesh from the goring
Of its horns,
On the way to salvation
At the door.
Still, animal rage
Stands between instrument
And shields awaiting at table
As they are meant.
A lamb, I once used my hand
And it hurt
When steel first broke skin.
Tears weren't
First from pain, but shock
Life was so real and cruel.
Since then the whys
Have grown with our lives.
One or other medication
Will fail to stop the sensation.
Now, my life's exhaustion is
In pondering the question:
Can the coward present neck
As easy offering and end it,
Or continue cowardice,
Facing the goddess
Conspired to destroy
What once was me.
Oct 18, 2009
Oct 18, 2009 at 8:27 PM UTC
Geometric Considerations and Nomenclature for Reflectance, U. A march section in B flat minor follows.
Cordelia is nervous about her father's tax position but does not tell the others. Japan's Olympic judo team.
Rehberg married his high school sweetheart, Jan, a water attorney who represents farmers and ranchers. In four games, he had been sacked 23 times and had a pass intercepted 12 times.
Eastern Europe, and conspired to spread communism throughout the world. There are 55 schools in Kortrijk, on 72 different locations throughout the city, with an estimated 21,000 students. Go through all tools, materials, and so forth in the plant and work area.
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 7:25 AM UTC
i feel so tired
there seems to be a lack of oxygen
have the demons all conspired
to make me their kin?
is it their whispers that sway my opinion?
i fight back the tears that my heart wants to release
i fight a battle of the mind, and all i want is peace
but it sickens me to think that i have this disease
so the medication seems to be working,
but the dosage is what they might have to increase
you don't know.
but thats quite alright.
it is mutual, and i don't think of you as my foe
please, i don't want to fight
i have the scars all over my body
that tell of past pain
and deep inside i know that i'm a druggie
use and abuse, just like any other ******
my heart feels as if it's sinking into an ocean
but inside i feel i have an inkling notion
that i have to fight this war
i have to survive through the bombs, and than even more
the swords pierce my flesh
i quickly wish that i was dead
but all of this, it's all just in my head
i keep going.
the words are continuously flowing.
and here i am, not even knowing--
what i am supposed to do next
when i feel as if i'm so terribly vexed
but to keep on keepin on is what is best
i don't even mind if i fail the test
we'll just have to find out whats left of the rest...
and i don't write these words for you to read
i write them because i feel the need
to let it out
before i turn into one of those demons;
to begin to scream and shout
for i do not want to hurt you
the way that i have been hurt
but even the most beautiful of flowers need the dirt
so i push my way up through the soil
all of the worlds gravity feels as if it's weighing me down
i am soon facing the hatred and turmoil
but i try not to frown
and i feel as if the smile is faux--
like the ones on a clown
painted up to decieve thee
all to make you think i am happy
and i am.
i am.
i am only human.
i am, and was born into sin.
i am no where near perfect.
i am an addict.
i am kirsten.
i am an enemy, but i want to be a friend.
i am bipolar.
i am living on the border.
i am faced with trials and tribulations.
i am prescribed numerous medications.
i am happy.
i am sad.
i am the words you are reading.
i am the smile thats so easily decieving.
i am the epitome of me;
does that have a meaning?
now the tug of war seems to be misleading
i am swaying from side to side
while others see my pain, i see them grieving.
but my emotions are what i try to hide.
i don't want to have to see them leaving;
i feel so alone inside.
i have a pain only i can feel,
and no, i do not want you to understand.
and no, i do not want you to walk in my shoes.
but won't you please take my hand?
help me forget all the past abuse...
Jan 7, 2010
Jan 7, 2010 at 10:29 AM UTC