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Vanessa Escopin Nov 2015
Don’t fall in love with me.
There are days when I get sad without a reason and I just stare at the ceiling with tears streaming down my face.

Don’t fall in love with me.
On those days, I don’t talk to anyone. I just bury myself in my bed and think about how I became this mess of sadness.

Don’t fall in love with me.
I will become attached to you and I will cry myself to sleep if you don’t text me good night before you go to sleep and I will convince myself that it’s because you got tired of me.

Don’t fall in love with me.
I’m too much. I will depend on you. I need attention, much more than other people. I’ll talk to you in metaphors and make you one. I’ll write poems about you and opening up my skin at 2 A.M.

Don’t fall in love with me.
I couldn’t stand you coming home to find me on the bathroom floor shaking and crying, with blood spilling from my wrists. I couldn’t stand seeing the disappointment in your eyes.

Don’t fall in love with me.
I will pour everything I’ve left of me into you, every bit of love, until I have nothing to give. Until I become completely empty.

Don’t fall in love with me.
I’m scared that my sadness is contagious.

Don’t fall in love with me.
I will replay your sweet words in my head when I hate myself so much that I want to die. Your words will be the only thing that make me stay.

Don’t fall in love with me.
You will live in fear. You won’t be able to leave me, because you’d know if you did, I wouldn’t have anything to live for.

Don’t fall in love with me.
Before I met you, there wasn’t a single person who could’ve made me stay. You’re my reason now.

Don’t fall in love with me.
Because I will fall in love with you.
By: Unknown writer
petalsofhope Nov 2013
I remember you
from your beautiful smile
your cinnamon scented hair
your contagious laughter
your nail-biting addiction
your pointless insecurities
to our silly inside jokes
our dumb little fights
our peculiar bets
our goofy text messages

through tears and smiles
you were the only one who understood
my unspoken words
my concealed pain
my unexpressed happiness
my puzzled feelings

counting your days
we recalled our mischievous memories
when we danced in the rain
when we rang doorbells and ran away
when we pranked the gullible ones
when we stole Ikea pencils
when we fangirled over stunning guys
when we were together
everything turn into excitements
moments with you
I remember them all, Grace

it was a week before December twenty-fifth
when the monstrous cells stopped your heart
a glimpse of smile
appeared upon your face
as you're being taken
far away from us
skin turned pale
body stiffened
tears flooded my sight
there were wailing across the room

time flies like a bullet train without you
it's a rainy day today
you've always loved rainy days
sinking my knees in the dew-wet grass
raindrops whisper in my ears
as I brush off the gray snow from your stone
I still remember you, Grace
I still do
Fianna Beth Mar 2015
what i cant understand
is how people can write poetry about the flowers
or the sunshine
it just seems so irrelevant
when there are so many more beautiful things to write about
like your dainty, thin, long fingers
and the way your lips emit a tiny bit of air when you pronounce ‘th’ words
your towering, awkward, bony body
loosely, limply entwined in mine
that make up your gentle, comforting hugs
how melodic your voice is, almost lulling me to sleep
your contagious, animated smile

how you write as if embroidering the pages
gracefully, an art
and the words float mid-lines
reflecting how your thoughts float among the clouds
doolally detonations of enigmatic pure excitement  
over the most extraneous of matters
your eyes, the captivating bluish-steel of a mid-winter night sky
their flare, and the way they light up when you maunder lovingly of such passions

alas perhaps, poetry about plants or the weather are just as beautiful
but i
would not know
for even the planet, and nature
and sheer beauty of life
seems pale
in prejudiced comparison to your radiance
and how bright you make
my insides feel
Written last summer about my best friend.

I titled it 'bias among the tulips' because I wrote it after going on a walking tour in Amsterdam, on holidays. I learned about 'tulipomania' during the Dutch Golden Age, and how they were the most valuable things available, even worth more than land at the peak of the market in their time. They were treasures. Tulips were everywhere all over Amsterdam. In fact, the whole place was covered in flowers, really. It was beautiful. Alas, my best friend was still much more beautiful as a human being. He was worth more to me than any tulip could have been worth. Between them, the decision was obvious, hence, to me, I'd always have a bias view even amongst the captivating, rich tulips of The Netherlands.
Shaine Fraz Sep 2015
If you weren't dark skin you'd blush,

You and your pleasantly "spring" demeanor,
blooming smiles in secret inside your hazmat suit,
from any type of feelings,

you are already infected,
-- and contagious,
yet refuse to admit the goosebumps
on your neck,

without the fortunate luxury of showing your emotion
society has deemed you timeless,
an eloquent flagrant aroma,
the definition of fine wine with a zest -- a spiciness of an impatient "summer",

you are warm,

and the stem of your smiles comes with thorns of poison,
weapons of mass destruction,
so you're cloaked,
tucked away from societal norms,
and expectations --  who are we to judge,

you are correct,

your skin,
is the right tone,
grab the attention for all the unwelcome,

literal and figuratively baring a cluster of
desires -- requested by only the elite,

pasteurized and preserved until then.
© 2015 by S Fraz All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of S Fraz
Bryan Jun 2019
I am a contagious smile
I am always happy
I am a tender heart
I am a caring soul
I am oh so confident
I am always in control
I am…
More than you see…
I am scared
I am alone
I am doubting
I am unsure
I am waiting…
For you to reach in,
Hold my hand…
Touch my face…
Tell me it's going to be okay
Let me know I'm not alone…
That you care,
That I'm wanted…
I belong…
I have so many questions,
So many fears…
But you don't see that,
You don't see me…
I am a contagious smile
Hungry Panda Oct 2018
I look down at my hands
There I see they seem to be fading away
I feel like a pill dissolving in a cup of water
I can no longer see my hands
Just a blur of my wrists
The fading continues
Why do I have to leave when everyone else can stay
I am leaving
Leaving forever
I try to call for help
But no one answers
I see everyone else carrying on
but no one talks
No one helps
I can tell they know I am here
Side glances
They know I need help
Maybe they just don’t want to
Maybe they don’t want to be needing help too
Loneliness isn’t contagious
I am fading more
Now I know they want no part of me
Now I am almost gone
I will be gone forever
I wonder what they will do
When I am gone
I don’t think they will care
If they don’t care when I need help
Why would they care when I don’t
Martin Narrod Apr 2014
Your colors are so heavy, how dare I, I cannot sleep. Years inundated under, through skin coils, marigold fields. Yellow crocuses, orange California poppies. Moors of cattle ranchers, yokes of oxen. Plasticine uber-confidence, silky white-skinned testubular thrice people harmonies. Blisses of contagion, contagious bliss. Wrists and incisors, tying down in a bedroom, waking up to live harps and choruses. You dance like you're so alive, but I'm so alive I can't dance. Or breathe. Or knead my fists of earthen wears, or sell my soul completely. I drove off a cliff last night, but the four foot fall ended neatly. The plateau authors my chance to sew my bright, beyond- my fortunes. But the hour before I fall asleep, seems to be the greatest torture.
Mitch Nihilist Sep 2016
I’ve manifested
an after midnight symphony,
looping mp3’s of my own eulogies
and consecutively callousing
and shaking hands with death,
the feeling brings a paradox of
finding warmth in cold palms
and it cuts between relation and
addiction to a palpable misery,
shot glasses of blood trying to make
home in my throat
drawing *****
and neglecting to force
warmth back inside,
left cold
and red hands ramble
abstract frigidness
on a livid mess mimicking
a sorry excuse for a heartbeat,
and all i’ve been doing is
touching myself
and each fingertip friction
formalizes an addiction to
a wintry contagious
Tommy Randell Sep 2017
I've caught the virus,
the virus of You
Your DNA has become mine too
And like viruses do
Through all of history
I've become a carrier
Of your elegant mystery

My symptoms are smiling
And being distracted
A little naïve and overly romantic
The world knows I've got you
And I'm contagious
In every poem I breathe
Over hundreds of pages ...

It was a one time thing
In a room of silence
A point in time that is now time-less
A nervous smile
A single tap of your foot
Being there as you played
Was all it took.
Sally G** is an immensely talented Flute Player from Sheffield, England. Falling in love with her was as simple as this poem suggests and as long lasting - I was in a pub over 25 years ago participating in a Trad Irish tunes session ... and she played.
Madisen Kuhn Jun 2013
my mind is filled
with beautiful snapshots
as numerous as the stars,
thousands of which
have illuminated my darkest skies
and lulled me to rest
on restless nights

i have seen
lengths of sorrow quenched
by duvets of summer rain,
oceans of love
poured into empty hearts
and the hope of a new dawn

all i have seen,
all the grace i have held
in my undeserving hands,
all the contagious grins,
all the precious little moments
and moments that have moved mountains,
all the miracles, all the love, all the joy

all of these,
all of the bright colors
that have painted my path thus far,
pale in comparison
to the sun that will rise
above tomorrow’s horizon
Emily Pidduck Apr 2014
Moon is not beautiful
She doth not shine golden
She drops weakened, white light
on creatures craving sleep

She sits there and stares
At a frightened little world
with her cold, chilling glow
and a hostility deep

It's ingrained in her soul
to make the nimbus look fearsome
ghastly and pale
like a place to hide demons

She debases belief
We forget our star-wish
and thick, we go fishing
at nighttime

And then, Moon releases
a loneliness, cold
and we can't elude
we're stuck in the hole of
This brooding solitude mood
and its tole.

There's no escaping anytime soon
As we start to fear
the burning sun
And I suppose, this is my loathing of Moon.

Moon is contagious.
She offers the aid of her presence, unfailing
When we're washed down like willows, weakened
and wailing

And we can sail under her
Just as the dime
It's a lie that the night's
only clock-start for crime

When she's out from the hiding place
to be bright as Moon can
There's not a direction
No footpath
No overworked plan

And when I remember:
Beauty needs not a rival
I suppose I'll be loving Moon, soon again.
I was told to take the side of love and hate, so I chose the wonderful moon - which I actually adore. To make the last line sound right, you have to pronounce it so at to rhyme with "plan", as I am Canadian and I say it that way. :)
Ivan Brooks Sr Feb 2018
What's this phenomenon called love,
That remains a puzzle no one can solve?
Love is the caveat for many broken hearts,
And the byword for many gracious acts.
Love has the characteristics of a witch
And the coldness of a vindictive *****!

Love, the greatest of human emotions
Has many different variations.
The good book talks about agape love,
And Beyonce sings about drunken love.
Its nature nobody really understands
Yet men have worked with their hands and paid bride prices with cows.
Some have proposed to women at the super bowls.
And on talk shows, jumped on couches
leaving a few to walk on crutches.

Nobody knows love's true colors.
Yet many men have spent top dollars
To buy their women cars as gifts.
And later on, end up begging for lifts.
For love, Romeo committed suicide
And Juliet died right by his side.

Love is very irresistible
And unpredictable.
Love has many dimensions
and many complications.
For love, many people have died
And much more has lied.
For love, knots have been tied
many bank accounts emptied,
For love, wars have been fought
And many Diamond rings bought.

Love is a wrecking ball
I call it an emotional hall.
For love, tears have been shed
by many in their lonely beds.
Love is a mystery
But the reality in my poetry.
It's a kinda game in most men lives,
A game played behind their wives.

So what do we know about love?
Is it peaceful as caged doves
Or dangerous as wild wolves?
Is it contagious as a disease,
Or rumpled as a crease?
Is it blind like brother Steve,
Or silent as a grave?
Is it deep like the ocean,
and beautiful like Heaven?
Love can at times be as cold as ice
And at times, twice as nice!

Love has many definitions....what's yours?
Indigo Dream Nov 2018
I fell in love with you once
you smelled of lavender and tasted like honey
you were so ******* contagious
I was not prepared for what was coming

The first time you opened yourself to me
was the first time I felt the joy of rain
you poured yourself  over me and I wanted more
you wanted me to explore and oh God did I promptly explore....

I would gladly dance with you over and over again
just so I could feel the warmth of
you lush lavender lips against my essence
you pushed yourself so deep inside of me

Your love questioned my sanity
you were the shade of madness
the night I Iost my mind was the night that it finally made sense...

I will never admit that I still love you...
Dondaycee Nov 2017
Next lifetime just let me be,
All lost souls that noticed me,
Over killed the hope in me,
Helpful hands unnoticed, feet,
Blistering I’m growing weak.
I have questions for the runaways,
How did your feet get so strong?
Why couldn’t I tag along?
Did you leave home to be alone or vice versa, got cold and was searching for warmer days in the week?
What is life without a friend dependent on I,
Is trust nonexistent when there’s a mention of side,
Is it not selfish to love yourself before mind,
A system that houses a light linked throughout time,
“-What do you want?”
For you to love me like you love all.
Look in the mirror, what about this person,
“I’m always here, all you have to do is call”
Where’s the assertion? I’m looking for words because the ones I’m using aren’t working.
Never felt too good in crowds, because there’s folks around, and they’re always thinking,
Never felt too good or proud, when joyful sounds touch my heart before they’re leaving,
“-Loving others isn’t a bad thing, lose the fear, it’s a state of being.
Don’t hate yourself for seeing a reality that others aren’t capable of seeing.”
But, Am I dreaming?
“Do not confuse yourself, you don’t want to lose yourself for dreams are other realities, you are currently in a state of being.”
But what is being?
“To be or not to be is the question.”
… Give me clarity
“Everything is being, it’s all existing, everything existing is living.”
Is this another lesson?
“Is death to exist and not be, or to be and not exist?
That is my suggestion-”
-How can you be and not exist?
“To exist is to have objective reality, a reality that exist independent from our minds.
Consciousness construct realities through imagination in space, which is time,
So, does the world end when we die,
Or does the experience of this reality end and our consciousness move into another reality beyond the human mind?
Would the state of being then not exist after existences?”
Let me go the distance with an analogy to make sure there’s nothing I’m missing.
Is it pain to love in a world that perceive it with ignorance, or to fully understand it and not have the experience?
“A little personal but the balance is understood.”
I just needed some clarity to be reassured,
Because sometimes I’m insecure,
There’s never been a life that’s “similar”,
And I see things in my life that will occur,
Pretty lady, baby don’t you close the door,
With other opportunities of loving me more,
Arkyi, Dondaycee, keep my knees from the ground,
In times I forget to stand, and am feeling less than a man should when his woman’s aroused,
By another… that feeling’s profound.
“-Jealousy found, that energy is not allowed when there’s confusion around.”
Where’s that soothing sound that moved me in dreams,
That had me chasing angels confusing chicken with wings,
Searching for permission in missing some things,
Like the giggle or a touch that slowly faded through change,
Like that love at first sight that never made it to name,
Those “unspoken” relationships that never made it to name,
Those misunderstood moments I forgave and delayed an encounter because I couldn’t forget the feeling she gave before  pain.
Those hideaway hearts is where my shelter remained,
Because they kept the love pure when it was easy to drain.
It isn’t easy to contain let alone obtain a power source linked to the brain and refrain from allowing an equivalent vibration; being fear, creep into the domain and create a disease of insane.
“-Insanity is just as contagious as stupidity-”
-Please explain how to maintain love’s stability when hostility is blurred into a thin line.
Inhumane is humane when the word justify emerges in a reign of ignorance which solidifies the moment the sane become repetitive credited to an infection that dried the terrain of perception,
Unreceptive the brain becomes when love is trying to sustain which leads to strain that results in pain and fear burst as a supernova leading to actions in vain again and again,
Oh lord, the power of a woman.
If men could be before doing, we wouldn’t often do things we “shouldn’t”,
“It’s not a matter of wrong or right but evolving into light.”
Is it odd that I acknowledge you, voice inside my head?
“Just as odd as the words left unsaid before night.”
This solitude thing, it isn’t enough anymore, I need something new.
I learned to love myself from red to blue,
And I just reached purple, now all I see is white,
May that energy continue to heal and rise,
Frequency, continue to create shorter and steeper hills, so that I am able to write,
Documentations of this experience  discovering love that’s unforgettable,
Because self hate should never be unforgivable.
That illness is always hospitable,
The existence of love is aboriginal,
Individually being is medicinal and additional if traditional.
Through ourselves is how we connect to all, an adventure to,
Dive within thyself but too many times I forget myself.
Every time I learn to stand, I project and fall like I forget my shell,
Because it’s easier to live life as light than with the body, odd of me to dismiss my health,
Physical problems; wanting love, a senseless touch; tempted to rush a manifestation of her beside me.
That’s the biggest lie when all I need is I and the being inside me.
If this is a human experience, neglecting the body is a serious condition, mysterious as if ID.O.M and 3D have been misspelled,
Then what is hell?
I thought death doesn’t exist?
“It doesn’t, it’s a reality when the state of being is no longer well.”
To be… or not to be…
“That is a question of wealth.”
Sharina Saad May 2013
Courtesy Is Contagious
Let us start by saying the magical word PLEASE.....
Remember nanny Mc Phee's wisdom?
Say THANKS, say SORRY, say PLEASE...
show them how courteous we are...
so PLEASE say PLEASE.....
Sarah Kersey Sep 2015
We shorten our thoughts
so they can fit into our Twitter updates
Because everyone seems to lose interest
after 140 characters anyways
Half of you have already started skimming this
We close our eyes to tragedy
because seeing is believing
Because if we don’t see it,
then how can it be real?
You’d rather read a Facebook status
about the newest movie trailer
than even glimpse at the news story
about a school shooting that affected way more lives
than that movie ever will
We turn our shoulders away from sadness
and upturn our noses at those
who suffer from chronic waves of it
Because sadness is seen as contagious
and no one can bear to hear
more than 140 characters worth of it anyway
We run away
when the skeletons try to break out of our closets
Because we hold the past and the future
in two separate dimensions
and mixing them would be taboo
And it’s all fine if it’s a Throwback-Thursday
because we only like to remind people
of the faint and distant memories we liked
instead of the ones that keep us awake at night
And we sit here
and we dare to wonder
why people can’t be real with each other
David Crum Mar 2015
A rainy dreary Halloween from 2006.
Candlelit late night
bedroom phone calls.
Your dream about a train ride and mushroom farmers.
My dream about hidden cities.

"I want to feed you ****** and a muscle relaxer and **** the **** out of you"

How long has it been Now?
Too long maybe, some lines are stretched too thin, through waiting and longing, love and lust and the once closest of friendships,
Stretched like Taffy till nearly gossamer strands wound meandering miles of complex life events and other unshared memories.
A too familiar voice.
Echoes of "I want you to have the perfect *******"
Spaces in conversations that would have been empty  if not for the most contagious laugh I've ever heard.
One not matched before or since.

Can you live in the past and long for the future? Is it greedy to desire more of something that was already so sweet? I don't tell anyone about my dreams now. Candles sit on.the shelf primarily unlit.

There are no more secret cities.
No mushroom farmers or train rides
But there are still threads
Stretched like Taffy but woven like a tapestry.
Across time and distance.
Made of memories.
All you'd have to do Is tug on a thread.
Hal Loyd Denton Nov 2012
We know not the times or the gifts that are ours specifically and unequally you see someone at a
Distance walking through a pastoral scene away and down a hill at first by voice recognition you
Know who he is this grandfatherly figure brings a flood of feelings and moods to brush your soul
With the telling of wonder of intimate days and moments you have shared so often you smile as
He naps quietly and then a night comes where for one reason or another you get involved and the
Whole night is used for this activity the next day being Saturday you relax and in the late afternoon
You at first just set for what you think is a moment but the previous night delightfully and pleasantly
Catches up with you sleep affords you this non cumbersome trip of ease and you awaken and it is dark
At first groggy disoriented just like in a dream this logical but off answer is provided then you finally
Figure out what is going on what surprise and pleasure to know you have been ambushed by a slight
Tiredness that robed you in sweet bliss then trimmed it in solace you stir yourself and do minor things
Until it’s the bed time hour but instead of the normal lights out its turn away from the computer shut off
The television **** all the lights but one and then just purposely luxuriate in the soft amber glow it
Provides set the rudder to take you to sweet wonder as you drift to unspoken destinations these are
Truly simple joys where the need to be careful comes in we know even creation and all its splendors are
Fragile a great rush of water with four feet of foam froth and power charges down it has a twin that is
Separated by this mass of rock that rises upwards of fifty feet the water falls over it in a different way
These strings of water that cover the face from one side to the other and they are accompanied with the
Sweetest mist so you have this forked water show on both sides of powerful water all this glory of white
Power rushing then falling and then the center piece contrasted to this sense such power and mass and
The water is shear as it tenderly descends the mist is truly natures kiss the sound is the embrace the
Engulfing privilege we possess and own as humans but this could be harmed and ruined in so many sad
Ways thats why we are extraordinarily careful we want to preserve it for all times as human beings my
Friends we also can by indifference and lack of understating can harm friends that in their own right
Are spiritual streams that come from great spiritual head waters that were pristine and then one greater
Than all of us caused such harm and destruction in the purist place a garden I wrote and posted Fertile
Ground the great mind of Lincoln said in his day and he meant it for all of our history a nation as great as
Ours can and must be sustained yes our armies and navy are a part but in his speech He says if
“Destruction be our lot we must ourselves be its author and finisher as a nation of freemen we must
Must live through all time or die by suicide what constitutes the bulwark of our liberty and
Independence it is not our frowning battlements our bristling sea coasts the guns of our war steamers
Or the strength of our gallant and disciplined army these are not our reliance against the resumption of
Tyranny in our fair land all of them may be turned against our liberties without making us stronger
Or weaker for the struggle our reliance is in the love of liberty which God has planted in our bosoms our
Defense is in the preservation of the spirit that prizes liberty as the heritage of all men in all lands
Everywhere destroy this spirit and you have planted the seeds of despotism around you own doors
Familiarize yourselves with the chains of ******* and you are preparing your own limbs to wear them
Accustomed to trample on the right of those around you you become the fit subjects of the first cunning
Tyrant who rises” sound words of wisdom that benefit all men we can’t release our responsibility and
Expect a continuance of our freedom this is careful part of this piece Thomas Jefferson had this to say “I
Tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just and his justice cannot sleep foe ever” what more
Prized possessions do you own than family and friends but if we deny and ignore our duty to be men
And women of righteousness how can we complain when civil authority in all manners deteriorates it
Can stand on no higher moral ground than we the people ourselves maintain we are the streaming
Waters of good or bad that flows through relationships ungodliness is a reproach to any nation by their
Fruits they will be known like it or not eat sins treats fine but know this the soul that sins it shall surely
Die it is a law an all living and loving father died to make sure no one could be a tyrant over you only
Yourselves hold that power every devil in hell can assault you but never can he claim victory until he
Sees the white flag of righteousness flying and it is saying I surrender my life of freedom bought by the
Pure sacrificial lamb God’s own son you could practically tell he was human they whipped him with a cat
Of nine tales with metal and bone he struggled down the Via Dolorosa each step declared your freedom
The song says He could have called ten thousand angels and it wasn’t nails that held your Savior to that
Cruel cross he had the ability to see everyone of us he knew how bitter and hard life would be if you
Walk it without him He said my burden is light and my yoke is easy it might sound obscure today but it is
Just as real walk beyond his love in disobedience and you will be punished by the god of this world and
Then he will take you to his fiery home as his subject I wrote before you are his greatest trophy he has
You on display in his lair because you are the greatest treasure God has not golden streets
You fist loved me and my brothers and sisters the tears that I cry in private it says this is doing the work
Of the savior increase my tears and sorrow because too many of them are hurting and know not your
Comfort lost in a savage world not any longer their own a usurper took them captive love replaced by
Cruelty is their lot if they could only see your painful longing as you look for them to come home every
Day they would truly break ties to this fallen world and fly to your presence they believe the lie that they
Have it figured out what sadness they are left with and they never have tasted your sweet spirit they
Mistake the boundless love they feel as if it were your spirit of intimacy outward love doesn’t reach
Inner depths satisfying to the point one person who cried stop no more I will die his love is truly deeper
Than the sea even the universe and Carl Sagan a man of science he was an American astronomer
Astrophysicist cosmologist author science popularizer science communicator sounds impressive but the
Reality he had an assistant and she had to be brilliant to a degree to be working with him but she was
More she was a born again Christian many were the years she loved and sought to help him not to just
Love the Cosmos but love the one who made them her persistence was to no avail you can make a god
Of many things even science how tragic he can be a warning guard your heart and you will preserve your

Going to include Fertile Ground that includes Streaks of Jefferson and Most Hated Twins I put on there
Lincoln said we should read such things

This important if you haven’t read it

Fertile Ground
O thou great Jefferson in whom dwelled the fidelity of a nation of free men.
Thy secretes can be viewed as we watch you live and breathe the life of a grand Virginia planter
When one is a student of nature and observes its subtle lessons becomes its master and ally. The next
Step of going to lead men is reasonable when taken into count the natural gifts that were refined in
Quiet fields and hills in lengthy times of treasured solitude that is not to say there won’t be difficulties
But to a merchandiser of lofty thoughts this is of little consequence. There are issues that must be
Divined through the protracted business of hard arduous study. Man’s soul drifts in and out of the valley
And hills taking unconsciously truths that exist they are everywhere but can be buried in life’s clamor.
To purposely walk across a field with your with your senses open will usher you into a place quiet
Unsettling if you are one who is uneasy in your own thoughts because the vistas will allow your mind to
Extend it to the far reaches ordinary thoughts will jump over conventional restraints and give you
Profound insights Jefferson graduated from this school of higher learning for this very important time
This man of stature arose he flung freedom’s door wide open walked through set down at his desk and
Masterfully penned immortal words, to this day time hasn’t diminished any of their importance or there
Revered excellence this document would go unparalleled in type and execution, in forming the basis for
Human conduct it would forever alter the landscape that that had existed before its grand arrival.
The stinginess of former centuries were at long last over the mind had finally
Liberated the body the willingness to do for one’s self had taken the lead there was no
Turning back, these actions would recommend them as a people. Their credentials intact now they were
Ready for the world stage a new birth of nobility walked into the human condition and it wasn’t
In the least bit hesitant to speak thoughts that had long been silenced.
The trouble today stems from the lack of understanding we have about the truth,
Of what oppression would be unleashed if our form of government would be allowed to be dissolved we
Love the dream but deplore the reality. That this system will only work when we are involved. It has a
Built in detection device, you can’t use its rewards without paying it back with service.
The results will be contagious you will be left with a weak sickly government.
The remedy simple everyone has to be its central guardian.
This does not mean that it is weak this was the way it was created it is as strong as you
Are willing to have it know this it will always be dependent on human involvement.
We might not like it but we are making a choice freedom will be loosed or bound by our decision.
The product that we deal with is very supple and ever changeable it becomes whatever form you pour it
Into this is in accordance with its nature it also is a gauge of those that handle its virtues and shows if
You have had reverence or contempt. You will be left with honor or disgrace did you carry forth the gift
Or allow it to waver the children of the next generation are watching.
Streaks of Jefferson
In freedom’s blessed glorified sky through streaks of immortal gold his visage we behold
He looks upon the fields of liberty that he and the founding fathers sowed he sees the
Richness America has become he also beheld her struggles catastrophic wars abroad
And the most painful the one that divided the nation marred it with southern and northern
Blood saw the affable the sad giant Lincoln take the reins of discontent hold them by
Shear will and with uncommon sagacity guided it back in line to fulfill its destiny as the
Powerful fount that would always pour forth waters of freedom for all of earths peoples
Total unconditional acceptance of liberty and all the fruit it bears to establish a
Government like no other this golden grain has waved under bluest skies and brightest
Sun light its rich harvest has gone to darkest prison cells Mandela was sustained by it
For twenty nine years and by its moral purity it fed the lives of those that over threw
Apartied and Mandela finally freed by principals it avows rose from prison clothes
To wear the mantle of president of his country and the honor of the man instilled
Quality that transcended political office Jefferson not to be disrespectful to his progeny
Whispers today’s politicians could do well to look on this African model of good
Stewardship of public trust with that Jefferson faded back into the mist pray that’s
Not the fate of this country
Most hated twins
Who are these two desperate characters revered but feared by all
To make their acutance few will volunteer those who know them well
All can tell by the drawn face and the tears that swell the pool where wisdom has her rule
Achievers welcome them as honored guest they withstood the test now they the richest blest
At mornings first blade of light they strike with all their might they the quickest to fight
Timorous to afraid how many have dwelt by waters undying well only to die unfulfilled
But others tried and they fell the well is to deep its where darkest shadows creep
We will be lost in these new surroundings the familiar there will be water there too
Yes stagnant unmoved guarded for naught its benefit was for the traveler going places
For you it will be your grave marker he talked and talked but venture on never
He said he was the clever one as his countenance slowly turned to stone killed by apathy
Green pastures call to find them in yourself health you will install
Few are they that were meant and born to reside in the same place you must go
If you stay rebuild the common and ordinary your monument then they will admire
Who stood to long and with all intention he gave it only words action was the wonder that was missing
Treading a narrow path in the end if you buried or squandered your talent divine wrath you will face
Cast your seed far and wide how can you not see the need sorrow has them tied
Push back the encircling darkness with the light in your heart that God did endow
Go and answer the door your guides are here I want you to meet two friends Pain and Adversity
Two finer companions you will never know Washington and his men befriended them at Valley Forge Concord, York town. Lincoln met them first at Bull Run Antietam I think he gave a little speech at Gettysburg. One birthed a nation the other saved a divided one.
Stefan Smith Jan 2015
I break through the barriers
You set in my life
Look past the decisions
That took your future out of sight

You didn’t see the hope
That could’ve made your breath matter
You just took that needle
And watched your dreams shatter

I was always told
That your laugh was contagious
You’d light up that room
Like nobody else, they’d say this

I wish I could just see it
To see you at your best
Even when you hid the scars
Buried underneath your chest

I wish they didn’t judge you
I wish they just loved you
I wish they didn’t show you hatred
But told you,
you could make it

Because even a gloomy moon’s reflection
Can show the light
A man with no direction
Still has a reason to fight
A man with no good intentions
Can still choose what’s right
A man with no vision
Still has sight

You just had to look.
Look past the corruption
To understand that the
Idols led to nothing

The ****** that filled your veins
That caused you pain
That controlled your brain
That made you go insane
Was not an unbreakable chain

People tell me I shouldn’t
Think about my past
They say it’s only my future I should grasp
They say I can’t learn anything
From the life you lived
Cause the decisions you made
Have nothing to give

But dad,
I don’t listen
I think of you often
I try to understand
The purpose of your coffin
I try to understand
Why you wanted to be forgotten
I try to understand
Why you thought your life was rotten
Because that is far from the truth
You were just strapped to a bomb
You didn’t know how to diffuse

So you did teach me something
That no matter the mess
I will never give up on the people
Society defines helpless
Or turn my back
on someone who’s in distress
Because they’re lost
And they forget what it feels like to be blessed

And so I want to live
My life so I can prove
That no matter your situation
It can be renewed
And no matter the chains
They can be removed
Because the life we live
Is not a life to loose

Because even a gloomy moons reflection
Can show the light
A man with no direction
Still has a reason to fight
A man with no good intentions
Can still choose what’s right
A man with no vision
Still has sight.

                           You just have to look.
For my dad.
Arcassin B Oct 2015
by Originally Nirvana
verses  by Arcassin Burnham

Lets lend a hand,  no words to say,
but all you've  planned,  doesn't ever stay,
vanilla girls,  they know what's best for us,
the world , it never rest,

Hello, hello, hello, how low? [x3]
Hello, hello, hello!

With the lights out, it's less dangerous
Here we are now, entertain us
I feel stupid and contagious
Here we are now, entertain us
A mulatto
An albino
A mosquito
My libido
Yeah, hey, yay

deal all your faults,  and all your dreams,
worth a penny, just wanna stay teens,
you could deal, making plans,
and taking risk,  you are the man,

Hello, hello, hello, how low? [x3]
Hello, hello, hello!

With the lights out, it's less dangerous
Here we are now, entertain us
I feel stupid and contagious
Here we are now, entertain us
A mulatto
An albino
A mosquito
My libido
Yeah, hey, yay

use to remember,  the signs,
I cross the lines apart, not known what was mine,
I took the gun, put it in my mouth,
and I,  just thought it out,

Hello, hello, hello, how low? [x3]
Hello, hello, hello!

With the lights out, it's less dangerous
Here we are now, entertain us
I feel stupid and contagious
Here we are now, entertain us
A mulatto
An albino
A mosquito
My libido
A Denial [x9].
Nirvana is one of my favorite bands and it is my pleasure to present to you,  my version!!!!
Jerry Nov 2012
You are a Woman of Iron,
Composed of high expectations,
Forged with strong morals.
Quenched by the coldness of the world.

Your determination stands firm against all challenges.
Victories are graciously and easily surrendered to you.
Energetic and effective action.
All around you, people take notice.

Your are a Woman of Silk,
Your feminine form, undeniably ****.
Your sweet odor is of respect and admiration.
Your skin, amazingly smooth & firm.
Your sensal lips draw me closer.
Your smile, beautifuly contagious, brightens all the day.
Your blue-gray eyes, sparkle of happiness and captures my soul

Your sassy auburn hair, thick and shinney,
bounces and flows as you graciously move about.
Your voice is soothing, it sings to my heart.
Your laughter, lifts my spirits,

A perfect combination, you are...
A woman of Iron & Silk!
Amanda Feb 2014
I myself am a disease
Highly contagious,
And fatal to all.
I infect all the others around me
I never mean to
But its always the people I love the most,
I infect the most
I see their smiles grow less and less luminous
As days pass
Their laughter becomes dull
Their eyes become empty
I ruin people
Run while you can
I can see the sadness growing greater in your eyes, and I am so sorry..
WistfulHope Dec 2014
I dip my finger in the still water
the ripples move away like pulses

I step foot into a room
the people drift away from me like I'm diseased

I call out your name and can barely wave
'till you see me and flee
**** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** ****.
This is bad. Whatever.
little lion Jan 2018
i am not the kind of sick
that leaves the body flushed
at 104 degrees
in the middle of the winter.

                                                               ­                     i am not the kind of sick
                                                            ­                         that causes every breath
                                                          ­         to force its way back up your throat
                                                          ­                     while dragging razor blades
                                                                ­           along the inside on your neck.

                       i am not even the kind of sick
                       that comes with a vaccination
                                  or an antibiotic
                            that will chase it away.


                                                               ­                           i am the kind of sick
                                                            ­                        that leaves you locked in
                                                              ­                    the bathroom during class
                                                           ­          because you can't seem to stop the
                                                             ­  flow of tears running down your face.

i am the kind of sick
that leaves your hands
and your voice
when it's your turn to order dinner
at the diner you've been to
a thousand times.
                                              i am the kind of sick
                                      that leaves you feeling lonely
                                              in a crowded room
                                      filled with the people you've
                                           known your whole life.

i am the kind of sick
                                                                ­                                 that nobody sees
                                          because it's all in my head
                                      and cannot be cured.
depression is real. anxiety is real. bpd is real. ocd is real. mental health is just as important as physical health. take care of yourself.
Wuji Seshat Oct 2014
The bleeding has no bias
From the Congo to Dallas
The days of waiting, the Fever-soar
The African corpses were out

Of view, from the World’s eyes
If a sneeze can defile
Ebola can ride airplanes
Traverse Seas, all through

Your plastic gloves, your pores
Contagious still with death
Your fear may taste the curse
A thousand dead more, a common ache

The bleeding has no bias
Jesus will not bring you back from the Dead
We have to walk through Hell alone
They say, I have no more words

The bleeding has no bias
No funding, on protocol that works
The virus rages on, splitting old scars
Of what it means to be from the

Old continent, of what it means to be black
And the coughing up of more blood
Where paranoia and fear are conditions
As common as kindness and hospitality here

The panic of believing a silent enemy
Can catch you without you knowing
These are the days of waiting
These are when the numbers soar.
M Hughes May 2014
The human experience.
It's the others we encounter.
Those we share more with than with even our own minds.
Those we would die for
Give up everything we own for.
Those we cannot fathom a life without.
Those whose laughter is contagious
Those whose smiles cause our smiles
Those whose pain compels us to feel it just as deeply.
They're our air
They're our shelter
They're our nourishment.
Our worlds would collapse without them.

The human experience.
It's the times when we lose them.
When we push them away
Because we can't understand why the world is what it is
Or why we are who we are.
It's when they're stolen from us
Because of life's cruel mysteries.
Or the times they dispose of us
Without explanation
And we can't apprehend why
Or how to move on
Or so much as attempt to face the world without them.

The human experience.
It's the times our lives cave in.
When everything goes tumbling down
Like an avalanche of our sanity
And our naively made-up stability.
The toppling piece that once made up our worlds.
When everything we know
Everything we live and breathe
Everything we are
When it all slips away.
When we lose our innocence
Our faith in humanity
Our once-invincibility.
When it's taken from us.
Or we leave it to the dust.
It's the moments we feel clueless.

The human experience.
It's the times we pick up the pieces.
When we learn who we are
Understand who we were
Realize who we want to be.
It's the times we start over.
When we leave the past behind
And look only to the future.
When we stitch up the wounds
And once again restore our hope
And our faith
And our invincibility.

The human experience
Is feeling.
Feeling it all.
Zac Hill Jun 2015
I remember the first time I saw him
Mysterious, Dangerous, Wonderful
His eyes captured me the moment I fell into them
His fur was perfect and made me jealous
Not even the wind could mess up his handsome look
His fangs were perfectly white as he howled
I continued to follow this wolf
His presence was contagious
I wanted to know more about him
His life, his pack, his goals
The more I followed the more I could relate
How could I become apart of this beasts world?
How could I show my love for him?
To be apart of his pack
Or is he a lone wolf like I once called myself?
A loner needs his pack too
We're so different yet have so much in common
Was it fate that lead me to this creature?
Is it fate that this beautiful wolf will bring out the real me?
In the wake of morning I am dying,
My child screaming,Happy Birthday, Dad.
I need my fire to stop the crying,
Purse my lips, the last cigarette I had.
She clambers into my smoke-gray walled room,
Innocence is a baby's white smile,
This contagious cancer is my gloom.
I am her murderer, still she would smile.
I often swore I would quit this **** thing,
For my daughter's sake, not my own **** life;
And always failed, this poison is my king.
It is her lungs that goes the smokey knife.
This selfish ****** turns my whole world gray.
Stupid. By my side, my daughter does stay.
patty m Mar 2018
Outside my garden wall, traffic swishes, yet in this place of rock and sand, cool moss and good earth, I lose myself in reflection.

secret shadow land
my deeper self plants firmly
spreading fertile roots

bird feeder robbers
springing from the sweet gum tree
three playful squirrels

even in chill air
splashing sounds twitter loudly
when birds come to bathe

Precious relics are buried here. Baby teeth collected by the tooth fairy, a tiny lock of baby's hair symbolic of her first haircut.
Crystals, quartz,  a single silver button, and spider webs gossamer as silk

lines drawn in the sand
speak a language all their own
whispering softly.

Autumn days warm as butter quickly change to chilly nights.  
While I, a contented cat enjoy a cornucopia of earthy colors and pungent scents; Chrysanthemums, lilies and wheat, surrounded by harvest candles, their flickering teases shadow as it dances across the wall.
Mums and marigolds
help to brighten hearth and heart
mini-suns glowing

Happiness is abandoned nests, the fledglings gone having found their wings.  For now I'll claim them and set them among the stone elves and tiny pumpkins.

One perfect blue egg
alone in deserted nest
dreaming it can fly

Wind's echoing rasp meets soft night's descent sending eveyone closer to the fire.  It's too early for snow, but the scent is in the air.  A polar vortex is what they're calling this fast exchange from fall to winter chill.  

outside the windows
tree monsters flail their limbs
lashing and thrashing

Little eyes are getting sleepy.  Time for prayers and a bedtime story, then kisses as she's tucked warmly into bed.

as today concludes
I sit alone with my thoughts
sipping strong black tea

unconscious bounty
poem seedlings blossoming
grace a tired mind

sleep and renewal
meet with a dusting of snow
on the evergreens.

Even as I clear away snow from the sidewalks, the birds gather hoping for my gift of peanuts and bread. .  
Feathered friends you know when I open the door, all gathering to sing your morning songs from the eves and bushes.  
Your joyousness is contagious and I too hum a song enjoying the crisp feel of the cold. .

Glorious new day
the rapture of whiteness sings
hymns of renewal

Tiny footprints trail
disappearing in bushes
softly fluttering
haibun is a form I love, either prose or diary entries mixed with haiku and senryu.***
w m Aug 2017
you don't need a boy who will call you beautiful
you need a man who will call you intelligent
a man who will tell your laugh is contagious
that you made him smile
that you have something to offer
Alyre Collette Jan 2013
Piggies dancing, floating along narrow passages towards what they hope is their ends. Their means have been stolen and packaged and sold by big suited, corporate, handy-handy machines. They eat piggies every day and love it, love it, love it down their gullet.
They are not worth a mention yet they get it, they want nothing but your attention, they don’t need it yet they get it. Their appetites are insatiable and contagious, they use it against us by showing us how we are nothing but what they are     and we are fools enough to take it as Truth.
                                                          ­                                                                 ­                                      Shame.
We have shame because they debase us and hence debase themselves.
We have shame because we see their debasement and yet powerlessness is in our bones.
We have shame because all we want is not all we get and nowhere near all we deserve,
-it measures much lower.
   It is irrelevant, it is biased, it is useless, IT is un-real-(UnRealistic, UnRelated, UnTrue)
                                                                ­                                                                 ­                          Lie.

If my breath stinks or my hair is greasy or my cloths *****, my teeth yellowed, my feet smelly, my nails long, my social life quiet and solicitous-   will you discern a negativity in my human-ness? We are no villains. We hate only those who would have us believe that we must hate ourselves and each other. They are no beasts like us. The animal within, encased by a carapace of Humanity glued and mortared by self-centered ideologies gets too thick and you must break it by looking at yourself. ******* and ******* and spitting and grunting and moaning in ecstasy and pain.
Repeat after me and say it loud with beastly yell “ I am a ******* beautiful Animal!”
Wuji Seshat Oct 2014
Fear too is an epidemic, it stretches out like
An incubation period for a kind of doom
Population control, whispered a silent elite
Who engineer our wallets, our GMO food, our futures

Ebola was a convenient way, of making us fear
Who we once were again, black as a Nigerian
We died alone in deathbeds, isolated plastic containers
For who we once were, our organs giving out

Infection was a spider hand, MSM gave us
False positives, but could the main-stream-media
Be trusted any longer? Wasn’t this just a matter
Of time, an algorithm set loose upon the billions?

Fear is that place, where people go in adversity
It’s hypnotic like an audience at a concert
It’s contagious how the will for self-preservation can spread
Fight of flee, but where to run, out of the cities?

The new normal is a kind of paranoia
While we watch the situation very closely
Every hour there is underground news about
Another case in another country, Ebola isn’t

Your grandmother that only likes good climates
She’s an engineered hypothesis of how mobility
Causes any true pandemic to become a flamboyant outbreak
The comet that signals black plagues has been seen

Fear too is a weapon, when you can’t stop the world
Because it’s too costly to do so, and you can’t
Tell the world not to fly because we’re too free
We left Africa a long time ago, but who among us
Would stand 20 meters from their open graves?
Britt Nichole Jan 2015
How tired we are
Always taking hot salt baths,
thinking that they'll heal our gaping wounds.
Then we cry because we hurt like hell and are naive enough to ask the faucet why it would do such a thing. It wasn't even the faucet.
How is it that we don't ever feel clean unless we are burning?
Our minds are saturated in switched blame but I'm also saturated in my own hot air.
Let's hum.
Stand naked in puddles of rain water and ask God why you've caught cold feet, why you're running away from feeling something.
Don't **** the passion, just watch it live sadly and then die. You die, not the passion. Someone else will catch it and since it's awfully contagious they'll give it to someone else too. Passion Plague.
I'm nifty with words.
Be nifty with hands.
Bend me over and fold me in until you're inhaling sticky sweat and loose hairs.
I have penny slots and other slots that are empty waiting. You've got the parts so you know what they are waiting for.
I do too, but I'll be ***** to make you ***** if I have to.
Pop off can tops and keep them between your front teeth as I dance around the empty ashtray in our hotel room. The sheets are cold like your rain water feet and thin like self restraint, but I'll still tease.
Let's make sin worth burying and call it the Boogie Monster anyway.
s Feb 2015
You left today
I heard it from a friend
You're not coming back.
I'm happy for you
You won't have to be in this prison
Stuck in a box of thoughts
I wonder what life is like for you now.
What are you going to do
without me
without us.
I hope you don't think about me
Please don't.
Just think of me as an old friend
We used to talk
We used to be close
We used to share secrets that no one else would ever understand.
Sit in a empty car for hours and fill it with our deepest fears and dreams until they would seep out the windows.
Its okay that you left without saying bye
You didn't want to risk me pulling you back in.
I don't either.
So thank you
Because of you I know for a
fact that I'm the problem.
I'm contagious.
Don't catch me.
About a friend
Julia Aubrey Apr 2015
acceptance is something we all wish was contagious,
but true acceptance comes from a heart that is filled with patience.
fingers tremble as dreams race through your bloodstream.
trying on different clothes and attitudes makes your body ache and turn,
outside is an identity that isn't yours which feels as bad if not worse than a peeling sunburn.
"don't." you tell yourself. "don't give in to the personality you've thrown in the highest corner upon the highest shelf.
it's gone.


— The End —