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Janor Nov 2014
I´ll always continu climbing
Although I don´t know if I can get there
I might step on the wrong twig
I might me be a little to short to reach the next

But I´ll always continu climbing
Because there is a chance
There is a chance I get high up
There is a chance I get to the end

I´ll always continu climbing
even when I´m afraid
I should trust that they catch me
I should trust on my very own strength

But I´ll always continu climbing
Because in the end, it´s not about the goal
It´s about the journey
It´s about never giving up
It´s a metaphor towards life, and you´re climbing in a tree
Jordan Apr 2013
If only yoga tights came with mandatory spiritual experiences...like on your way to the local fast food chain you sweated just enough to activate the LSD laced fabric, which induced a state of cheese burger paradise, where french fries were now your best friends and represented freedom, and the clerk at the counter was a 6 titted guru whom guided you through the layers of brightly coloured condiments that made up your spiritual sandwich. Then maybe just then would stetchy fabric expand your mind far enough to realize, products don't create ease, yoga isn't a type of cheese and that the latest fad in seventeen magazine was designed to keep you on you knees. Namaste, girl please.
alt.  Then maybe just then would tights stretch the fabric of your mind far enough to realize,
Yume Blade Dec 2015
Upbringing starts ,
when parents teach to  children  to walk & talk.

It happily continu ,
When parents suggest to the kids  to run & sing.

It sadly just ends ,
when parents tell to the teens  to sit & shut up.
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parents Love
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even if they're complicated
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sindy May 2018
I just want to talk to you
As little as it might sounds
I miss our deep discussions
The one I am always looking to be right for
The one you always let me win just because you like the cheeky smile I am making when you say I am right

I just want to feel your hands on my back
Going down the lines crossing one by one my beauty spots
I want those kind of caresses that give goosebumps to my skin
Left side, right side, get down

You breath on my neck
And all the snuggles you like so much that make my hair look messy and I don’t mind because I know you would offer me to brush it in the morning

Your eyes on me...
I could continu for hours describing how I miss you !
A Henslo Feb 2020
DWAALLICHT

Schoorvoetend naar binnen. Je herkent het gelijk:
De vale muren, het formica aanrechtblad,

Continu malende gedachten onder een
Flikkerende tl-buis—twijfel, hoop, twijfel...

Ze weet dat je kwam voor je fonkelende vlam
Vol beloften, maar er steeds weer vandoor

Met een ander. Overtuigd van je terugkeer,
Met lege handen gebald in je zakken.

Waarom dit verzet? Wanneer zul je leren
Wat het wezen is van je afmattende dromen— 

Bezwijken voor Haar onvoorwaardelijke liefde?
English Dutch transposition © A. Henslo, 2018
Original poem by Alice Stallings (2005):

FAILURE

You humble in. It's just as you remember: 
The sallow walls, formica counter top, 

The circular argument of time beneath 
Fluorescent flickering—doubt, faith, and doubt. 

She knows you've been to see the gilded girl 
Who's always promising and walking out 

With someone else. She knew that you'd return, 
With nothing in your pockets but your fists. 

Why do you resist? When will you learn 
That this is what your weary dreams are of— 

Succumbing to Her unconditional love?
Janor Feb 2015
In the rain at the end of the day
without a breath being wasted
I still burn with fire deep within
I am not afraid

With temptations everywhere
In every corner of my life
I have done the best I can
And will continu to strive

The cords are in my hands only
the choices are mine to make
nobody can take my thoughts
as I walk my own way

The path so narrow hard to take
I go on, without a break
This is a poem based on Invictus from William Ernest. The title is old Greek for Bravery.
Floor Jul 2019
Ik heb een onrust in me die moeilijk te plaatsen is
Nog in mijn hoofd, nog in een hokje
Het is niet de goede soort onrust waar je bezig van raakt
Het is de onrust van drie dagen niet snijden, vijf dagen normaal eten en vijf dagen niets in de buurt hebben om mezelf mee te beschadigen
Ik kan niet stil zitten, heb continu de drang om iets de doen
Mijn armen tintelen en schreeuwen bijna om bloed
Ik loop vaak te ijsberen, loop het mooie voorbij
En ja ik geniet, maar het is zo'n chaos in mijn kop
Ik ben op en ik kan niet verder meer, maar met deze drang blijf ik lopen
Je zou kunnen zeggen dat ik de scherpe pijn van een mes tegen mijn huid mis
Je zou kunnen zeggen dat de aansteker, lucifer en sigaret vriendelijk en verzachtend van aard zijn
Daar komt mijn zieke kant naar boven
In deze paar dagen is mijn zieke kant vaker aan de oppervlakte verschenen dan de echte Anne
Ik weet niet *** ik dit stop zonder bloed en zonder pijn
Ik weet niet *** ik leven moet
En nu?

— The End —