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"currently" poems
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I wasn’t supposed to fall so hard I wasn’t supposed to call out for your arms in the night And my lips weren’t supposed to search for yours As if they would actually be there. I wasn’t supposed to nuzzle into my pillow at night pretending that your hands were nestled in my hair I wasn’t supposed to make small talk just so I could hypnotize myself with that something in your eyes I wasn’t supposed to wake up cold in the gray morning with the strong urge to be bruised and bitten In fits of slow, languid passion. Unreal how our bodies match and move together, Uncanny how our minds meld and play in synch. My youthful love for life, Your chuckling maturity, still unsure what life is. Now I play soft ballads full of aching, yearning, I can wrap myself in a blanket on the floor With a mug of tea, and think silently on you And the shadows I wish I could conjure into existence… They live inside, dancing to burst free from our guilty bodies Too ethereal, too beautiful, to be abandoned When we (artists) know we live for such wonders. I wish I had any other option but forgetting, or descending into madness. (I’m currently choosing madness..?) And it wasn’t supposed to be like this. I wasn’t supposed to fall so hard. I’m so sorry, My summer love.
0
Aug 31, 2012
Aug 31, 2012 at 3:44 PM UTC
A Summer Thing
I am a Transgender Citizen - ( An American Citizen ) I am a Transgender MTF - ( With Opinion's ) I am a Transgender Female - ( With Feeling's ) I am a Transgender Girl - ( With Emotion's ) I am a Transgender Woman - ( With Love ) I am a Transgender Christian - ( With Faith ) I am a Transgender Parent - ( Of 2 Beautiful Yellow Labrador Retriever's ) I am a Transgender Friend - ( Too Many People ) I am a Transgender Sister - ( Too My Many Sister's ) I am a Transgender Sister - ( Too My Many Brother's ) I am a Transgender Daughter - ( Who Currently Isn't Loved By ? ) I am a Transgender Person - ( Who Vote's ) I am a Transgender LBGTQ - ( Who Accept's ALL ) I am a Transgender , Who has too Hide , Because most of Society Say's they love Unconditionally , But Only if - I / We / Us - are who , They say We are . And "" NOT "" who We say We are GOD - Created Me & You & Them  & Yet "" ? "" They & Sometimes even Us  Judge each other "" ? "" And yet GOD clearly Tells Us , "" NOT to JUDGE "" each other But too Instead "" LOVE "" one another By day I am a Person , I do not wish too Be On weekdays I am a Person , I do not wish too Be By Night time I am the Girl , I want too Always Be On Weekends I am Mostly the Girl , I want too Always Be And so You all can "" CLEAR'LY "" see I am A Transgender Person / Female Named Stacie Leelah Cheyenne I AM in fact "" ME ""
0
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 1:13 PM UTC
I am Stacie / I am a Transgender ( MTF ) & I am Proud of Me :
C-Currently the subject of much conversation L-Learning of its effects through information I-Internationally scientists are using education M-Mankind's pollution is causes this situation A-Altering our ways may stop the devastation T-Time isn't on the side of the world's population E-Ever we should be aware of its manifestation C-Cycles of weather becoming stranger by the day H-Heat is building up in the earth's rocks and clay A-Averting further damage cannot be put on delay N-Neglecting our response to the planet wont pay G-Globally hotter and wetter conditions will parlay E-Everyone needs to heed the message of this day
0
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 2:19 AM UTC
Climate Change (Acrostic Poem)
blue,sports,boxers, stereotypes girls wear blue I wear boxers and currently am identified as a female girls play every sport and any sport they want everyone is different so **** stereotypes!
0
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 11:56 AM UTC
Masculine Stereotypes
We know the world is a crazy place and that is it easy to give up, throw in the towel. The idealism of youth gives way to the cynicism of middle age when we realize that despite our best efforts, change is very difficult. To be a parent and, in particular, to be a father....why bother? Some say fatherhood is driven by ego, the child providing the ultimate selfish representation of oneself. Others say driven by fear, the fear of mortality and the unconscious and genetic need to propagate and maintain our lineage, our species, our world. While both can be true, I believe the best manifestation of fatherhood is  driven by tikkun olam, a Jewish concept that we all have an obligation to better the world, to move it to a better state than currently exists. We do what we can when on this earth to love our family, friends, and be as righteous as this world will allow. Our genetic legacy is not nearly as important as our obligation to pass on what we know, have learned, have experienced, and enable our children to carry the mission to an always higher level. No matter what our belief in the afterlife, and what the future may hold we are here now in THIS life, and as long as we move the ball further and further in the right direction, there can be hope. Truly being a father, a good father, enables hope.  Maybe that is enough.
0
Jun 19, 2011
Jun 19, 2011 at 7:17 AM UTC
Fatherhood is Hope
Flashback, To that time we played blackjack I was impressed by your ability to shuffle all the cards just like that, &then; you showed me a magic trick with pistachio shells Oh what a friendship it is when someone buys you peanuts and opens all the shells Yeah confession; You're in my sci fi screenplay I think I wrote about you in the most innocent way And theres a song that, I currently have on replay... And a smile that can't help but shine when I see your face What a moment it is when you're sitting there on the bus and you just want to photograph it Life's a chess game, and now its your move.. I'm standing on the front line, I'm giving my horsey to you (haha) Oh this life's a chess game, One wrong move and I'll lose.... But here right now we're at a stalemate All my pieces were going but the piece that remains, patiently waits For you.. Oh with you I never want the game to end so soon And I know that we can't fall in love Cause we've got different ones for us But what a friendship it is when none of that matters no more.. You're the chess opponent I've been waiting for, You are.
0
Feb 28, 2016
Feb 28, 2016 at 3:31 AM UTC
Flashback
In the last months of March 2014, Soldier Othello the Moroccan moor Was in Stratford-upon-Avon at the graveside Of William Shakespeare the English bard, He was observing the anniversary Of Shakespeare and his European brother Cervantes, He had in his pocket another charm and amulet Given to him by his paternal grandfather, This time round not a charm for love portion, But a mystique totem to raise the dead from dusts, As Othello himself has hitherto over-matured Above the painful torture of *** with aristocrats, He has left it for the Jewish aristotrash; Frantz Kafka, Whose torturous appetite for *** with German women, Was the sorriest eyesore of his thespic efforts. Like Jesus at the grave of Lazarus Othello groaned by shouting; William the son of John! No response, he shouted again; Shakespeare the bard! Then the mystique powers of Othello’s amulet Electrified Shakespeare back to life, What is your problem you black moor, The ***** of Morocco, the soldier Who beguiled Desdemona into betrothal, Not because of glory of your work, But due to charms of your love portion Bequeathed to you by your witch mother, What brings you to my sepulchre, For only to perturbed my purgatorial peace, What brings you!? Questioned Shakespeare the bard. Am no longer the moor, blackness is class But not the race, as race is bankrupt, I come here to salute you with good news, That your European brother, Alfred Nobel, Currently rewards thespic bards like you, Whether black or white, blue or green, The ***** bards from the natural forest, He also rewards, so wake up and pick the prize! Retorted Othello in virtue of truth, And also tell me the native bricks Of your beautiful architecture; Where and how did you mold thy bricks? Your brown English bricks that walled your culture; ***** clown, leapfrog, mercurial, oxymoron, Falsitafity, Shyllocking, colleaguery and window, Cauldron, graymalkin, woo, betroth, infatuation and so on. From underneath his sepulcher Shakespeare broke A violent gaggle of laughter as if he was ten English skeletons, You Othello you are still a beautiful moor Whose foolishness time has not condemned to oblivion, You are as a fool as I created you ; I will only teach you One brick, the window , that you go and put on Your wind disturbed African huts, Put the wind door on your hut, And be flexible in your tongue To give it English elegance Combine and shorten wind and door To get your cultural brick of; window !
0
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 9:39 AM UTC
OTHELLO AT THE GRAVESIDE OF SHAKESPEARE
In the last months of March 2014, Soldier Othello the Moroccan moor Was in Stratford-upon-Avon at the graveside Of William Shakespeare the English bard, He was observing the anniversary Of Shakespeare and his European brother Cervantes, He had in his pocket another charm and amulet Given to him by his paternal grandfather, This time round not a charm for love portion, But a mystique totem to raise the dead from dusts, As Othello himself has hitherto over-matured Above the painful torture of *** with aristocrats, He has left it for the Jewish aristotrash; Frantz Kafka, Whose torturous appetite for *** with German women, Was the sorriest eyesore of his thespic efforts. Like Jesus at the grave of Lazarus Othello groaned by shouting; William the son of John! No response, he shouted again; Shakespeare the bard! Then the mystique powers of Othello’s amulet Electrified Shakespeare back to life, What is your problem you black moor, The ***** of Morocco, the soldier Who beguiled Desdemona into betrothal, Not because of glory of your work, But due to charms of your love portion Bequeathed to you by your witch mother, What brings you to my sepulchre, For only to perturbed my purgatorial peace, What brings you!? Questioned Shakespeare the bard. Am no longer the moor, blackness is class But not the race, as race is bankrupt, I come here to salute you with good news, That your European brother, Alfred Nobel, Currently rewards thespic bards like you, Whether black or white, blue or green, The ***** bards from the natural forest, He also rewards, so wake up and pick the prize! Retorted Othello in virtue of truth, And also tell me the native bricks Of your beautiful architecture; Where and how did you mold thy bricks? Your brown English bricks that walled your culture; ***** clown, leapfrog, mercurial, oxymoron, Falsitafity, Shyllocking, colleaguery and window, Cauldron, graymalkin, woo, betroth, infatuation and so on. From underneath his sepulcher Shakespeare broke A violent gaggle of laughter as if he was ten English skeletons, You Othello you are still a beautiful moor Whose foolishness time has not condemned to oblivion, You are as a fool as I created you ; I will only teach you One brick, the window , that you go and put on Your wind disturbed African huts, Put the wind door on your hut, And be flexible in your tongue To give it English elegance Combine and shorten wind and door To get your cultural brick of; window !
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58
Tick tock, Tick tock, Tock Tock ticking Clocks cluck, catching curious cries Several seconds slide, slowly sticking Eclectic evil ever eager to eat out eyes Tock tock, tick tick Tock danger dances down, depicting doom Hands hold hearts heavily in hock aren't all able to articulately assume? Clock is currently counting costs justifying jumps and juggling jacks tabulating time that is tossed lightening liberal lust and loving lax tick tick tick, tick tick tick destination is a detonation despised tock tock tock, tock tock tock sheep sleep soundly shrouded, so surprised
0
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 2:50 AM UTC
Tick Tock, Counts the Clock (alliteration)
rumour has it mirrors shatter at the thought of you having your fathers eyes I hope you know that if you're looking for a sign you might find it tying to choke out one last goodbye at the end of the night you'll find it wherever home is I know you hate the smell of smoke but cigarettes are all I know so I'm asking you to put up with it you have every reason to be furious but I'm hoping you'll take deep breaths and see how calm they make my blood stream I only started smoking to ease the pain it was that or a needle to the vein a bullet to the brain too much going on up there anyways it all just needed cutting out so cigarettes just made sense I talk about them in the past tense but the one between my fingers seems to disagree open your eyes and see through all the smoke and mirrors lies me a double entendre for how things used to be and how they are currently the writing is on the wall in every ****** love song lies a promise to make the next one stronger and they keep promising that but the time between gets longer and all of a sudden the bands broken up and the symbol of love you used to **** to is broken like the bond of your parents love I love you is an apology forgiveness is given with every similar reply I love you means that I forgive you for being broken and for breaking me because picking you out in a crowded room is something I've become accustomed to god I can't stop thinking about the look in your eyes on that night in July with fireworks in the sky the last time I remember you saying goodbye because I shattered at the thought of you having my fathers eyes smoke and mirrors 06/22/14 9:10am j.s
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Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 9:43 AM UTC
smoke and mirrors
rumour has it mirrors shatter at the thought of you having your fathers eyes I hope you know that if you're looking for a sign you might find it tying to choke out one last goodbye at the end of the night you'll find it wherever home is I know you hate the smell of smoke but cigarettes are all I know so I'm asking you to put up with it you have every reason to be furious but I'm hoping you'll take deep breaths and see how calm they make my blood stream I only started smoking to ease the pain it was that or a needle to the vein a bullet to the brain too much going on up there anyways it all just needed cutting out so cigarettes just made sense I talk about them in the past tense but the one between my fingers seems to disagree open your eyes and see through all the smoke and mirrors lies me a double entendre for how things used to be and how they are currently the writing is on the wall in every ****** love song lies a promise to make the next one stronger and they keep promising that but the time between gets longer and all of a sudden the bands broken up and the symbol of love you used to **** to is broken like the bond of your parents love I love you is an apology forgiveness is given with every similar reply I love you means that I forgive you for being broken and for breaking me because picking you out in a crowded room is something I've become accustomed to god I can't stop thinking about the look in your eyes on that night in July with fireworks in the sky the last time I remember you saying goodbye because I shattered at the thought of you having my fathers eyes smoke and mirrors 06/22/14 9:10am j.s
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45
Independence day, a day to celebrate the birth of a nation and those who fought and currently fight to keep it free. It is something more at least to me ,it don't have to be limited to just the forth of July We can have Independence day any day When some one gets victory over Alcohol or drugs, it is an Independence Day When someone breaks free from abuse, it is an Independence Day When troops come home after war and get to be back in their loved ones arms, it is an Independence day When the Lonely finally make a friend, it is an Independence Day When the Prodigal returns to a loving family after years or being away, It is an Independence Day! When emotional chains finally break loose, it is Independence Day May the rockets blaze across the sky, raise the banners high It is Independence Day!!!
0
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 12:02 AM UTC
Independence Day Is Something More
i've currently many many thunderstorms inside of me and i'm learning how to rain people often see the sunshine and forget that lightening brings brightness to the dark as well or that thunder wants to be heard just as much as the birds and dark clouds are really just as soft as the white ones i've currently many many thunderstorms inside of me and i am no longer scared of getting wet i seek shelter within myself here is where i reign
0
Nov 8, 2016
Nov 8, 2016 at 12:22 AM UTC
Reign. Rain.
Sometimes we all have our dreams and childish feelings, I know we do, I had two where I had the ears and a tail of a Panda, Now I feel I currently have them, If I had the ears of a Panda, If had the tail too, I must do What I must do, If I had the ears of a Panda, I'd want you to have them too...
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Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 8:01 PM UTC
Panda
All we really want is to make our mark Getting caught up in the what and the how We loose track of our ground, our feet That have been in motion since breath And there we’ve already begun And left remains Our desire for remembrance clouds Our ability to pulse in the zone We currently inhabit Like animals we compete To find the best of the best and the rest aren’t important? The dew of the new is just as fresh as the old ones tale revived on a cold night but by the summer sun I am scorched By each, equal
0
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 10:02 AM UTC
Ambition
the double-glaze and blackout curtains shield me from the world's uncertainty. the panes of glass so sure not to allow its overside to retreat and seep its liquid coldness to reach me. it's neither cold nor warm at the touch, unlike me. i am protected by the double gaze and blackout curtains but some force that differs from the one that is currently causing the tree outside sway dangerously close to my perch is causing my mind and body to be insulated by a layer of ice. goosebumps prickle and my arm and leg stubble raise themselves. but my mind does not provide for itself thermoregulatory reflexes, i must withstand the shiver of my memories.
0
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 2:17 PM UTC
bedroom
Currently online. Two chat heads active. My fragile heart though, in one. Friends online: 87. Last seen: 16:43. Really, ignoring me? But who are you talking to? Delivered. Delivered. Is this deliberate? Are you busy, are you with someone? Who is he? Don't you see what you do to me? — Minutes since message sent: 320 or more, Years together: best part of four. I’m not counting but Is he the one from your instagram? Friends nearby: 6. Last seen: 23:55. Nevermind. Flick up to clear all apps, And with that my heart, Night.
0
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 4:45 PM UTC
Last Online.
“isn’t it crowded in california?” people always ask me but you should have seen the way it looked from the sky expanses of empty valleys mountains of uninhabited ridges cities that i could touch with my fingertip much like the stars in the dark night air and green as far as the eye could see the silver snow that dotted the land reminding us not to forget about it never had i been so far above that i could notice it all always stuck in my corner of the universe and you should have felt what i felt knowing that there are still areas of my heart that have yet to be realized and explored and populated by anyone who is not you even though at one point you occupied the spaces the cracks in my chest and lungs and limbs so much that i thought you were a piece of me but the seasons change and so do people so my winter will be drastically different than my summer when you climbed out of my life and into another’s and hearts break and shrink and expand to make room for different hearts (mine’s currently in the process of getting rid of you)
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Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 12:13 AM UTC
i wrote this on an airplane
It’s weird how one vaguely remembers important days, Like a friend’s birthday. But I’ll remember one day, And no, it wasn’t my friend’s birthday, But actually, it was mother’s day. I’ll always remember it, Because you said you were cooking for your mom And I remember thinking: “What a gentleman!” I’ll remember it because you were at church that day, And I laughed because the idea of you being at church, Made me believe for a while that you were actually a “Good boy”- a gentleman. Most of all though, I’ll remember that day, Because you practically asked me If I liked you. I remember saying to myself: “He’s a genius!” Because you twisted it up, But to be frank, I would have done the same thing too. Instead of saying : “Do you like me ?” – (like a normal being); You asked : “Is there a boy that you currently like?” I also remember thinking , “How awkward” Because my feelings for you were as clear as the sea, But here you are asking, if I liked you. I’ll remember that day, because I imagined how misty the smoke would look as it forced its way out of your lungs, After a deep inhalation of the one you called: “Marie” I’ll remember creating scenes in the desert of my mind Of how it would feel to meet you for the first time – if you’d hug me and smile, Like a gentle man. I’ll remember that day because I kept wondering: “What if our first encounter was bad? “ “What if he doesn’t like what he sees?” – I remember laughing because thought it was funny. I’ll remember thinking that I should stop building feelings for you so fast. I’ll remember it because I made my imaginations get the better of me – I imagined us in the place where my only use for that place is to sleep. I’ll remember that day because trying to get you off my mind failed once more- Because when I fell asleep you were at the forefront of my mind And when I woke up, You still were.
0
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 12:34 PM UTC
Gentleman
It’s weird how one vaguely remembers important days, Like a friend’s birthday. But I’ll remember one day, And no, it wasn’t my friend’s birthday, But actually, it was mother’s day. I’ll always remember it, Because you said you were cooking for your mom And I remember thinking: “What a gentleman!” I’ll remember it because you were at church that day, And I laughed because the idea of you being at church, Made me believe for a while that you were actually a “Good boy”- a gentleman. Most of all though, I’ll remember that day, Because you practically asked me If I liked you. I remember saying to myself: “He’s a genius!” Because you twisted it up, But to be frank, I would have done the same thing too. Instead of saying : “Do you like me ?” – (like a normal being); You asked : “Is there a boy that you currently like?” I also remember thinking , “How awkward” Because my feelings for you were as clear as the sea, But here you are asking, if I liked you. I’ll remember that day, because I imagined how misty the smoke would look as it forced its way out of your lungs, After a deep inhalation of the one you called: “Marie” I’ll remember creating scenes in the desert of my mind Of how it would feel to meet you for the first time – if you’d hug me and smile, Like a gentle man. I’ll remember that day because I kept wondering: “What if our first encounter was bad? “ “What if he doesn’t like what he sees?” – I remember laughing because thought it was funny. I’ll remember thinking that I should stop building feelings for you so fast. I’ll remember it because I made my imaginations get the better of me – I imagined us in the place where my only use for that place is to sleep. I’ll remember that day because trying to get you off my mind failed once more- Because when I fell asleep you were at the forefront of my mind And when I woke up, You still were.
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41
Education is currently being used as a weapon to arm the educated to defend the system. Question the system. Go out there and equip yourself for the right belief. Be a dreamer. The dream is beautiful. The problem with dreams is that you don’t know the dream has turned into a nightmare until you wake up. Are you awake? Be awake. The problem with being awake; we need to rest. Lucidly dream. Be lucid. The problem with being lucid; you’re lucid. There was a dream not long ago. The dream was beautiful. We liked the dream, the dream became ours and we slept. Slowly we all grew tired. Those that did not need to sleep, those that did not like our dream, we treated like children. We know that we need to rest and we were tired. We left our children to starve. We forced others to sleep and so, we forced our children to sleep. Even in our sleep, we forced others to sleep. And so the big dream grew. It became nightmare. We all dream. Be aware of others dreams. Be aware of others while we sleep. Be aware of those that sleep while we awaken. When you wake and see your siblings rest no longer. That their dream, once ours, has turned to terror. The problem with dreams… We force our children to sleep. Is this bad? Always question. Should we force them to wake? Force can create. Force can destroy. The problem with being awake, when we know our brothers and sisters sweat in there nightmares; we have a choice. That is not a choice to wake them or not. To hope for the best. That the nightmare will end and the dream will return. A dream that has travelled through the terrors of our minds will not return the same. Would you like the red pill or the blue pill? Is there good and bad? Force can create and destroy. Be mindful of how you wake. Be lucid of how you force others to wake. Tea or coffee; a cigarette; some breakfast; some fear? Use balance. We are all unique. I have a personal story. As I wrote this, typos occurred in the original edit. The technology, ‘swipe’ was used.  I meant to spell unique and unite was spelt. Personal became powerful and with turned to WE. Is there a reason ‘i’ should always be capitalized? ‘i’ wish to be mindful of my readers. ‘i’ want to stay true to them. We that can read are the readers. ‘i’ am the reader. When I isn’t capitalized I began to feel more comfortable with using it, if i gave it arms; ‘i’. And when I typed to explain that, I went to preferring if isn’t typing out ‘and then i and then ‘, to just type two of them; ii. We don’t want to be alone. There’s no I in teamwork but there is and I in kind. I is complicated. Be you. Find your voice. Have a voice and be aware. Others have a voice. What would happen if we all respected each other’s voice? What would happen if we all had the same voice? That was the beauty of the dream. The dream is travelling through nightmare and is slowly returning. It has changed. Unite our uniqueness’s. Do you eat fast food? I love it. It is a dream… Do I eat it all the time, I hope not. Ken Robinson is a good man to ask. Consider food for the mind. There are beliefs out there. There’s a belief out there that our world is ****** Forgive the language. Understand it. I wanted to say, ‘that our world is doomed; eternally ****** to be destroyed’ and that scared me. **** There will always be nightmares, disaster and destruction. What is an ‘aster’? Curious. When did we chose to destroy; each other? Could we create; each other? There’s a belief out there for that one too. Are you awake, yet?
0
Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 9:06 AM UTC
.What is an Aster?
Education is currently being used as a weapon to arm the educated to defend the system. Question the system. Go out there and equip yourself for the right belief. Be a dreamer. The dream is beautiful. The problem with dreams is that you don’t know the dream has turned into a nightmare until you wake up. Are you awake? Be awake. The problem with being awake; we need to rest. Lucidly dream. Be lucid. The problem with being lucid; you’re lucid. There was a dream not long ago. The dream was beautiful. We liked the dream, the dream became ours and we slept. Slowly we all grew tired. Those that did not need to sleep, those that did not like our dream, we treated like children. We know that we need to rest and we were tired. We left our children to starve. We forced others to sleep and so, we forced our children to sleep. Even in our sleep, we forced others to sleep. And so the big dream grew. It became nightmare. We all dream. Be aware of others dreams. Be aware of others while we sleep. Be aware of those that sleep while we awaken. When you wake and see your siblings rest no longer. That their dream, once ours, has turned to terror. The problem with dreams… We force our children to sleep. Is this bad? Always question. Should we force them to wake? Force can create. Force can destroy. The problem with being awake, when we know our brothers and sisters sweat in there nightmares; we have a choice. That is not a choice to wake them or not. To hope for the best. That the nightmare will end and the dream will return. A dream that has travelled through the terrors of our minds will not return the same. Would you like the red pill or the blue pill? Is there good and bad? Force can create and destroy. Be mindful of how you wake. Be lucid of how you force others to wake. Tea or coffee; a cigarette; some breakfast; some fear? Use balance. We are all unique. I have a personal story. As I wrote this, typos occurred in the original edit. The technology, ‘swipe’ was used.  I meant to spell unique and unite was spelt. Personal became powerful and with turned to WE. Is there a reason ‘i’ should always be capitalized? ‘i’ wish to be mindful of my readers. ‘i’ want to stay true to them. We that can read are the readers. ‘i’ am the reader. When I isn’t capitalized I began to feel more comfortable with using it, if i gave it arms; ‘i’. And when I typed to explain that, I went to preferring if isn’t typing out ‘and then i and then ‘, to just type two of them; ii. We don’t want to be alone. There’s no I in teamwork but there is and I in kind. I is complicated. Be you. Find your voice. Have a voice and be aware. Others have a voice. What would happen if we all respected each other’s voice? What would happen if we all had the same voice? That was the beauty of the dream. The dream is travelling through nightmare and is slowly returning. It has changed. Unite our uniqueness’s. Do you eat fast food? I love it. It is a dream… Do I eat it all the time, I hope not. Ken Robinson is a good man to ask. Consider food for the mind. There are beliefs out there. There’s a belief out there that our world is ****** Forgive the language. Understand it. I wanted to say, ‘that our world is doomed; eternally ****** to be destroyed’ and that scared me. **** There will always be nightmares, disaster and destruction. What is an ‘aster’? Curious. When did we chose to destroy; each other? Could we create; each other? There’s a belief out there for that one too. Are you awake, yet?
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78
I’m currently sitting in the coldest clinic, Across from, probably, the cheapest Mexican restaurant in Western Arizona. The floors are sterile white, And I giggle at the thought of you recognizing the irony Of my emptiness. The walls are also white and look slick with Lysol. They radiate that dampness that I swear that they smell like loneliness, We didn’t make love, So much as **** in the dirt, But the truth is I’d rather wake up hot in the afternoon on the dirt and the ground (After you’ve already left) Than wake up next to The wrong person in the wrong bed. From earthy and raw so quickly to empty and white.
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Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 8:21 PM UTC
Waiting
No one looks at me the way she does Her eyes stares into my soul The glares makes me feel the unknown Forbidden love that feels so real Its like both just know We can be so bad for each other if together Yet we both just strive to bring out the best in the other Sharing the same weaknesses Going through the same difficulties We are our own addiction Motivation to stay clean is the love for each other We are just two **** junkies trying to stay clean Our love for our drug should pull us apart Yet it makes us cling to each other in the hope recovery will last I don't know how sane this is But it works for us currently Everything in this moment is exactly how its suppose to be..
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Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 7:01 PM UTC
Two **** Junkies in Recovery
when a lost muse is no excuse, when the mundane and the profane are away on summer holiday, and you are currently on the divine’s 'u **** - no write list' nonetheless the itch in the private spaces is driving you crazy, write a poem, write a poem, in the way a grandmother (or a mother to a grown child) whiny nags, *its a nice day, go outside and play with a strange man*, whatcha ya gonna do, the walls are all painted, and the good bad boys are out of town, all with the   *other bad good girls, who got there first,* but we will write of nipple-rings and other crazy songs you sing it is not important you the reader understand every verse, like Patton said, "it only matters that I know," which line is a joke, which around your neck is your customized yoke, which is why: plaintive wail to no avail, the regret that never can be sated, the frustration cratering inside the chest, which is just, (and unjust) just enough to make a semi-satisfactory smile upon the lips appear whose lips? who cares? as long as you don't have to hear me sing my poetry but hear me smiling at the power of whimsy writing and the return of my no longer muzzy^ Ms. Minx A. Muse-me <£> 2:13pm
0
Aug 19, 2017
Aug 19, 2017 at 2:32 PM UTC
of ****** rings, and other songs I sing
Human Observations (the woman pees) if you walk the world with pen and paper or eclectic electronic devices, sure as the sunrise espied, the pen will quick leak when wearing white and so will too the righteous words righteously, thereafter when you can't sleep and you must slam your sweaty fist into pillow know that the pillow is silent thinking, dude, you really ain't got a hope, a prayer fallen asleep in the soaking tub a thousand and one times, ain't never drowned like the warning ones say I will do but only when restless in my rustling no-safety night sleep in my lumpy bed, where I’ve already dream-drowned a million times the woman pees, safe and secure, comforted by the knowledge that we have bathrooms separate, her toilet, man *** free, tho we just finished making sweaty, fluid swapping *** she does not, won't put on makeup in her pj's to take out the garbage, that is why she keeps loverman, so handy, nearby, shamelessly firm, unwavering, good god, great for one "disposable" use per night when you tell your child that you love them, and they do not reply at all, it isn't that they don't love ya back, 'tis only that they haven't learned to love themselves something well that just cannot be taught. the more trinkets I buy her, more she screams stop, but never not once has she said, here, take it back if you don't believe in Faeries and Elusives, try, for then you have a middling chance of getting the missing, disappearing whole sock hiding in her ****** back, intact If must look up the time where your love is currently hiding/residing, then the probability is more than 1.000, that you no longer love her enough, or she, you, not at all you know it is time to shut down, hang up the pen and close the iPad cover, surrender, give up the poetry gig 4 real when you start to prefer an autocorrect suggestion ~ More to follow. someday.
0
Feb 2, 2018
Feb 2, 2018 at 7:19 PM UTC
Human Observations (the woman pees)
Human Observations (the woman pees) if you walk the world with pen and paper or eclectic electronic devices, sure as the sunrise espied, the pen will quick leak when wearing white and so will too the righteous words righteously, thereafter when you can't sleep and you must slam your sweaty fist into pillow know that the pillow is silent thinking, dude, you really ain't got a hope, a prayer fallen asleep in the soaking tub a thousand and one times, ain't never drowned like the warning ones say I will do but only when restless in my rustling no-safety night sleep in my lumpy bed, where I’ve already dream-drowned a million times the woman pees, safe and secure, comforted by the knowledge that we have bathrooms separate, her toilet, man *** free, tho we just finished making sweaty, fluid swapping *** she does not, won't put on makeup in her pj's to take out the garbage, that is why she keeps loverman, so handy, nearby, shamelessly firm, unwavering, good god, great for one "disposable" use per night when you tell your child that you love them, and they do not reply at all, it isn't that they don't love ya back, 'tis only that they haven't learned to love themselves something well that just cannot be taught. the more trinkets I buy her, more she screams stop, but never not once has she said, here, take it back if you don't believe in Faeries and Elusives, try, for then you have a middling chance of getting the missing, disappearing whole sock hiding in her ****** back, intact If must look up the time where your love is currently hiding/residing, then the probability is more than 1.000, that you no longer love her enough, or she, you, not at all you know it is time to shut down, hang up the pen and close the iPad cover, surrender, give up the poetry gig 4 real when you start to prefer an autocorrect suggestion ~ More to follow. someday.
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83
Loyalty They talk about loyalty, Like it’s a fantasy, They talk about loyalty, But have no clue, what it means. They talk about equality, Like it’s currently happening, They talk about democracy, But have no clue, what it means. Glocks aimed at cops, Glocks aimed back at someone’s pop, Many lives have been lost over Gaup. Gaup that buys whips and thots. All got something to prove, But to who? All got something to lose, What will you choose? If money equal power, Than why is the taste so sour? After all the castles and ivory towers. You’re left a lonely dragon like bowser. Loyalty tell me what it means to me? To hang with royalty, Or help those in poverty. The place I used to be. Helping people like me. That society has coated with a cloak of invisibility. Because they can’t stand minorities. And that’s why we can’t stand authorities. A toxic cycle that stems from a different ideology. Instead of equality, We have uniformity, Instead of democracy, We have white supremacy. Instead of loyalty, We have hypocrisy. They talk about loyalty, Like it’s a fantasy, They talk about loyalty, But have no clue, what it means. They talk about equality, Like it’s currently happening, They talk about democracy, But have no clue, what it means. Too many broken promises, I feel like James Sie, Losing all his cabbages. But since we are deemed as savages, All the damages attributed, Are treated as shenanigans, Instead of answering calls to action, We have a government completely dumbfounded. Instead of compassion, We are harassed and hounded. We still got all lot of work to do. And I hope one day we’ll have a breakthrough! For we all got something to prove? But to who? Maybe for me or for you! All got something to lose, If we never take the time to put on another’s shoe. So, what will you choose? Will you help light the fuse? Or treat this issue like your alarm clock, And put in on snooze? Who will you be loyal to? Your heart? Or to your privilege? Hmm… They talk about loyalty, Like it’s a fantasy, They talk about loyalty, But have no clue, what it means. They talk about equality, Like it’s currently happening, They talk about democracy, But have no clue, what it means.
0
Jun 16, 2021
Jun 16, 2021 at 8:26 PM UTC
Loyalty
Loyalty They talk about loyalty, Like it’s a fantasy, They talk about loyalty, But have no clue, what it means. They talk about equality, Like it’s currently happening, They talk about democracy, But have no clue, what it means. Glocks aimed at cops, Glocks aimed back at someone’s pop, Many lives have been lost over Gaup. Gaup that buys whips and thots. All got something to prove, But to who? All got something to lose, What will you choose? If money equal power, Than why is the taste so sour? After all the castles and ivory towers. You’re left a lonely dragon like bowser. Loyalty tell me what it means to me? To hang with royalty, Or help those in poverty. The place I used to be. Helping people like me. That society has coated with a cloak of invisibility. Because they can’t stand minorities. And that’s why we can’t stand authorities. A toxic cycle that stems from a different ideology. Instead of equality, We have uniformity, Instead of democracy, We have white supremacy. Instead of loyalty, We have hypocrisy. They talk about loyalty, Like it’s a fantasy, They talk about loyalty, But have no clue, what it means. They talk about equality, Like it’s currently happening, They talk about democracy, But have no clue, what it means. Too many broken promises, I feel like James Sie, Losing all his cabbages. But since we are deemed as savages, All the damages attributed, Are treated as shenanigans, Instead of answering calls to action, We have a government completely dumbfounded. Instead of compassion, We are harassed and hounded. We still got all lot of work to do. And I hope one day we’ll have a breakthrough! For we all got something to prove? But to who? Maybe for me or for you! All got something to lose, If we never take the time to put on another’s shoe. So, what will you choose? Will you help light the fuse? Or treat this issue like your alarm clock, And put in on snooze? Who will you be loyal to? Your heart? Or to your privilege? Hmm… They talk about loyalty, Like it’s a fantasy, They talk about loyalty, But have no clue, what it means. They talk about equality, Like it’s currently happening, They talk about democracy, But have no clue, what it means.
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75
I love a good debate, [science mixed with illusion] and this year was no exception: the debate on the best shapes for a kite from design implementation, inception and execution some sturdy string and industrial-strength glue the machinations of whether to use plywood or bamboo and of course built by your own fair hand such was the intensity of discussion it continued with an after-lunch stroll on the beach, where the uncles drew their prize-winning geometry with a primitive stick in the sand a question on the mathematics of aerodynamics aside its currently a battle of the cyclic quadrilaterals and documented film of it successfully tested and tried; years of perfection honed by the skills of Fatherhood to know instinctively the difference between the brilliance of genius and the borderline just plain good If nothing else has come from this I now know [so as not to lose] K = p/q over 2 or K = ab – sin Ø [are the formulas to use]
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Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 3:56 PM UTC
Debate about Kites