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Alyssa Underwood Apr 2016
The LORD is my Shepherd, I shall not want
I dwell in fields of green
Led by His hand I may drink my fill
From streams where few have been
Though I may walk through death's shadowed vale
His presence calms every fear
Through the dark dangers He sets a feast
Whenever my foe comes near
His goodness and mercy shall follow me
Throughout my days here on earth
Then take me home where forever my eyes
Shall behold all His glorious worth!
~~~
Sung to the tune of 'Cloud-Shadows' (music by James H. Rogers)
Lawrence Hall Jul 2018
from an idea by Sheila Sharpe

In the foul heat and damp and rot and stench
After dusting off 1 the bodies of dead pals
The living and the dead, the living dead
Old Boats 2 lit off a cigarette and growled

“They say this stuff’ll **** ya.”



1 Dustoff – noun.  Dust off – verb with an adverb.  A dustoff is a medical evacuation via helicopter, as in “Doc, your dustoff will be here in three.”  To dust off a patient, then, is to transport a patient, not to tidy him.  I have recently read detailed arguments about the terms dustoff, dust off, and medevac, but no one quibbled about such minutiae along the Cambodian border.  

2 Boats – a boatswain’s mate, the brains and muscle of the Navy.  Boatswain’s mates do it all and are seldom acknowledged in history or art, not even in the recent film about Dunkirk.  A boatswain’s mate is often addressed as Boats, and always with deference, even by the C.O.
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:
Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com.
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.
ThePoet Feb 2016
And I could

never learn to

be trusting

living in a

world so full

of strangers,

but only in

love am I

drawn to the

hearts most

dangerous

of dangers.

© Sarah Ahmed (ThePoet)
We are always cautious and safe except when it comes to those we fall in love with and are drawn to. Love is the only exception to danger, and there's somewhat of a liking to it.
ThePoet Mar 2018
I only pretend with pretenders
And contend with contenders
I'm only giving to the givers
And forgiving to forgivers

I'm only strange with strangers
And dangerous with dangers
I'm only hateful to the haters
And traitorous to traitors
Savanna Jun 2013
I think there are some things
Of which a child should not be warned

Why place in them a mortal fear
That they need not yet learn

I remember the summer vacations
Spent at the ocean's side

Where I danced, splashed and dove
Never once thinking that it was cold

Now I return to the beach
And long for the good old fun

But I am held back
By the fear of believing it's too cold

I yearn to start over
To learn again in time

To live without fear
Of the small things that ruin me now

I want to run barefoot through the grass
But I can't let myself do so

I know too much
Of the dangers that may hide

These fears I have are often of situations
That probably won't happen

Yet I can't bring myself past
What I've been told that I now know

So don't ruin the kids
Let their wonder take control

Keep the world magical
Keep the fears at bay
Amy Leigh Oct 2018
Misguided —  we    were    inseparable,   but   things
as  they  do,   always  with   certainty   like  life itself,
change.  These different directions on winding roads
upwards and  even  edged  to  cliffs —these  dangers
in solemn  yet  ostentatious  affirmations: the  I don't
knows   paired   with   the    I    am    sure's.    Which?
Between  the  I  love  you's  and  the   rarity  of  these
honest intentions - these naked  affections with tears diluted  between  breaths. Surely, it was true; true as
formations   upon   mouth   tongue   cheek   in   ***** patterns tracing  up  and  down  skin, hands to thigh
and  then  some — yet now.

© A. Leigh
Krysel Anson Sep 2018
Metal bones dropped over another
clashing sounds across the night of smoky denials
in a city of thieves, paupers and scholars.

Worn down and without memory, someone's father
brushes off the dust of a young person's tombstone.
The oblivious student bends over information
into another alarm bell of insatiable chases.

Huddled in a street corner
like sprites of another dark jungle,
workers in uniform and hard hats share
stories and spare time as if nothing else matters
but this fading incomplete point in time.

Overhead looms the impending bright dangers
and dim warnings being built
From metals and soil into another giant promise
trying to excuse itself as it rips through
the city lungs, calmly abiding
and seeming always ready to die or live through.
I let Cupid carelessly aim an arrow at an apple on my head.
I never thought about how all of the targets he hit may have been accidents.
About what it would be like to pull the arrow out of my chest.
I couldn't stop the bleeding
and he didn't know how to patch it.
I realized then the dangers of putting your heart in the center of a crossfire
hoping,
hoping
the child with the arrow would spare it.
stacking the arrows in piles
a triangle of fuego
furnaces blaze fire
infinite reminders
of the morning after
shafts of light
drift from window panes
remake our names in
god’s slumbering veins
from here to there a whisper
or was it a word
fellow companions
have you heard
the threadbare sisters
took their turns
climbing mountains in order
that we could learn
the ways
of green hearted sun-scrapers
sweet little dangers
fellow death chasers
full of music
givers of blooming veils
bouquets of snow and hail
almond shaped eyes
resplendent thighs
and a mind as pure as a lake
during an alaskan winter
in the frozen splinter
trees are taken from their roots
the women are bleeding
weaving you the meat and the story
outsiders are cast from clay into statues
with feminine bodies
curving like cotton candy
i choose to impress you
repeat the compliments
that land on empty stomachs
string together words
like a rosary of nothings
simple deeds give thrilling feats
a chance to restore their honor
purity is unwashed in ***** soil
as i am cut from the cloth of the earth
our shirts are pressed at birth
white light forming fellowship
dimples in the cheeks of the mother
the earth’s bones torn out from under
the way we made ourselves invisible
the minute we realized our accents were noticeable
our actions were abominable
how could we ever repay
the generosity we were treated to
our ultimate needs are met by poetry
upon a ridge a silent figure wept
and held his head upon a bed of cement
Abbigail Apr 2014
When did it happen?
When did I stop being awake?
I don't know if I've ever really been awake.

What does it feel like
to want to do anything that you have to open your eyes for?
"Wake up," they say,
"You're going to sleep away your entire life."
But I see more with eyes closed
than I ever have with eyes open;
What really separates a dream from reality?
My dreams interrupt my reality all the time
and I can never be certain of anything I think is real.

All I know is that we're staring at the ceiling at 2am
just trying to figure each other out,
and suddenly I'm somewhere else
and you're someone else
and I'm saying things to you that don't make sense
and you're confused.

I'll come back from a dream just as confused as you are,
Not with eyes torn open, because they hadn't been shut,
but with nothing more than a shake of the head,
an embarrassed apology
and a disappointment in my inability to remain conscious
even for you.

I know it scares my mother to know
that I drove 62 miles to see her
but I can only remember 37 of them.
But I can't tell you how many poems I don't remember writing,
that contain words I've never used before
and a feeling I didn't know could be described.

When I was a little girl
all I wanted to do was sleep.
I dreamt of growing up to find a husband
and living in a beautiful house with him and our children,
and I'd be happy and have everything I could want.
I dreamt it.
And it felt real.

I decided then that if I could dream it, that was enough
because at least for the time that I slept, it would be real.
It's harder to make sense of real life
when you aren't required to be a part of it.

This brain will never have the control
to stop from slipping in and out of consciousness.
I may never fully wake up.
Any hour may have in store for me only
a dark fog of amnesia and a life that isn't mine,
ready to pull me in and drown me beneath the dangers of my own eyelids.

But that place is the place I know the best,
better than any place conscious minds have ever met.

Eyes closed.
Eyes open.
I don't know where I am,
but I am here.
I don't know. Life is weird and I'm trying to accept that.
Umi Feb 2018
By the earth and it's wonderful, wide and unique expanse
A mother to what is living on it and inside of it, may it be small
or great in their posture given to them.
Indeed this place inhabits many creatures, faces and races.
Each striving for their own path, of staying alive.
The soft soil of the Earth, a comfortable living and breathing
ground to walk on, proud and all connected, only to be divided
By the sea which covers most of this planet, comparable to a blanket
From which we gain food and drink, in a clear registered cycle.
Of course this place too holds it's dangers, such as a quake could
end it all in a brutal roughless manner and tear it from the ground
we build our houses on.
Or be it an eruption which casts a rain of ash and embers, suffocating
the sky above, the ceiling which was meant to protect is our very end.
A mighty wave, which sweeps over the cities, drowning them in
it's lethal, cold and brutal, moist and salty embrace.
It is not healthy to be in such a negative spectra of thinking however
For this place holds, more transient, living, artistic beauty than I
could simply express or convey in words.

~ Umi
Evie Wills Oct 2016
I miss the misery,
Now its all empty
I want the pain to forgive me
And the numbness to forget me.

I miss the irony
Now its all dread
I had sunlight in mind
Now there's darkness in my head.

I miss the sorrow
Waking up to love tomorrow-
Seeing the sunshine shining dull light through my window.
I miss the anger
The cautions and the dangers
My life is like a thrown around wager-
Like a victim with no angel.

I miss the bright side-
Now dark night,
Suffocating in a blanket of black hide.
I used to have pride.
There is no pride.

I miss the jealousy,
The nervousness,
The grief,
I wish it could all just walk back to me.

I miss the misery
Now its all empty
I wish my feelings would forgive me,
And the numbness would forget me.
Carter Ginter Mar 2016
When I was 5
My biggest fear was fire
And my biggest worry was if I had to go inside too early
The outside was an endless ground for games of all sorts
From war to hide and seek
We would play until the sun set
And the streetlights shined bright
My friends lived within seconds
We'd knock on one another's door multiple times
Until we could all come out and play

When I was 10
My biggest fear was a person
Tormenting me, screaming
and striking me until I'd break
I still feared fire but not because of dying
Simply because i knew it might not **** me
My biggest worry was having to wake up
Having to live another day in that house
Such a beautiful outside
The perfect hand-crafted family home
But that shell only hid horrific events within the fractured walls
I had no friends to save my sanity
Rotting from the inside out
A loving, child's heart demented and torn
Tattered and choked until every ounce of trust and happiness leaked out
I tried to go outside again but nature could only help me for so long
Before I returned to the nightmare that was my reality

When I was 15
I feared being alone
My hell had no ending
And my biggest worry was someone noticing the scars
traced along my body
It wouldn't matter if I cut too deep
If blood poured out and pooled beneath me
Both pain and death would solve the problem accordingly
I stayed inside
What was left of my imagination focused on either dying
Or on running far far away
My brain drowned in empty hopelessness
I gave up on the world and lost faith in everything
My savior appeared but not even she could **** the demons plaguing my mind

At 18 I left home
My biggest fear was returning again
My biggest worry was not ever being ok
Because I may had left the origin of evil
But it did not change what was in my head
The demons followed me everywhere
Stalking and striking at any hour
Draining me of hope and energy
Then I met my first love
A beautiful girl with gorgeous sapphire eyes
But she hid a dark soul beneath the beauty and I soon learned the dangers of loving your demons
At first she understood me,
Helped me through my addiction to the knife
But as quickly as she came, she changed into someone I feared
Because I knew I could never leave her
She possessed my heart so tightly within her poisonous grasp
Ripping it clear out of my chest
I feared I would ruin something again and end up alone
And one day she decided that I was no longer enough
That my entire being could not suffice to satisfy her sadistic needs
She drowned my heart for 6 months,
Shattering it completely 2 times
Before deciding to leave
But that love was built on *** and deceit
And though she claimed to love me
The searing pain coursing through my entire body
Was finally enough for me to see that
she did not know how to love

Now that I'm almost 20
My biggest fear is hurting my friends and family
Because I still never know when I could snap
My biggest worries are not making enough
Money for my life
Time for my friends
And love for my family
The universe has sent me a precious gift
Someone who knows love enough to share it with me
And though I'm still broken
Her beautiful heart helps mend my broken soul
With love and understanding
We have conquered over 7 months together
But I know she could still leave
This time the twisted beginning began from me
I broke her heart before I knew she gave it to me
And I know deep down she still resents me
But I deserve it
And she's worth it

Most days I know not who I am
Society labels me a 'girl'
But inside I know that's not me
I'm nothing,
A gender less, label less freak
And **** it hurts so bad
When they misgender me
Though I'm still too afraid to correct them
It's as though they twist a knife through my organs
Whenever they say 'she'
Who knew three letters
Could bring so much pain to me
Though I put the blade away, I turned to flames
Burning the nicotine into my lungs
Still begging not to wake up
Still thinking of death every day
Sometimes locking it out
And others inviting it in willingly
I guess Adulthood really hasn't changed a thing
I work until I can't stand it
But still cannot sleep
The depression burns more intense some days
But unlike everyone else in my life
*It never truly leaves
Abraham Esang Oct 2017
Death showed me how to dress.

it says "not that one, these shoes rather, somewhat less dynamic and somewhat more meek, more

modesty, less certainty."

Death showed me not to wear hoodies, to keep my head revealed, to wear light hues

rather than dull in light of the fact that I am sufficiently dim as of now

to purchase a belt for some jeans I possess, even better, to not wear pants,

death showed me how to do my hair, it says "less curl, more typical, straighter, longer,

more slender," it consumes my scalp and gives me a brush and says "isn't it decent to run your

fingers through it now,"

Death showed me who to like, what music to tune in to, how to keep individuals agreeable,

instructions to walk; "don't limp, straight shoulders, however remain littler than them,"

it showed me my vocabulary, the majority of the enormous words that gain me honors, for example, 'verbalize,'

'dislike whatever remains of them,' 'a great one,'

Death is continually instructing me to be less, less American, more African , an appreciated expansion, a

token, to reveal myself and strip myself of any weapons, any dangers

Death is a x-beam machine, and says in the event that I do anything incorrectly, it will come

as though I'm not kicking the bucket to myself as of now

Death says "what an opportunity to be alive."

since in this nation, Black is imperceptible
Never get to close at the zoo
A hippopotamus can step on your shoe
You could get bit by a rabid racoon
Become lunch for a lion or get **** on by a loon
the zebras are crazy they'll eat your baby well humming a tune
They’ll  make a dessert out of your lady  
And eat her with a spoon  

YES! You can die when you visit the zoo
So.............
Here’s my advice to you ***** hippo the lion and the loon stay far away from the dangers that lurk inside of the zoo
CP Sep 2017
I don't want to walk in to a room full of strangers
have you even thought of the dangers?
Well I have at 3 am each night
they sure do bring me great delight

I don't want to walk in
oh my god give me some gin
They won't like me
I'm just a wannabe
Imposter syndrome
I just wanna go home

I don't want to walk in
They're looking at the white's of my eyes
I don't mean to dramatise
but I might die

I don't want to talk in
and I can feel my chest
I'm so ******* stressed

I'm walking in
Is this auto-pilot because this is your captain speaking and get ready for a crash and ****** burn
I've reached the point of no return

Walk in you big ******* baby
whats the worst that could happen?
I talk too fast with too much passion?
so what if they don't like me I already sound like banshee
At least try to be care-free
I can't make any guarantees
but step by step in to the room
it won't be all doom and gloom

Just walk in and see you might even make a friend in the end
who didn't want to walk in to too
Pedro Vialle Nov 2018
I'm all alone,
ghosts of past pains haunting my sleep,
and boy, oh boy, I'm going mad for sure.
Their voices too loud, the images too bright,
too real for me to bear...
All the memories I fought so hard to forget, and yet,
I fail to defeat.
So here i shall stay,
in this glass walled room,
able to see trough the thin barrier all those people,
the ones who said they loved me too.
Bound by heavy shackles,
that are too large for my wrists:
Yes, I could escape...
But why take the risk?
Why leave the comfortable darkness,
that always embraces my sleep,
for the dangers of a happy and luminous life,
filled with the uncertainty?
zen Oct 2018
In the blink of an eye
things can go from Disney to dismal,
and the mood dim,
and diamonds rugged edges
cuts the pupil with its sharp gleam,
and what you believed to be precious
like rose,
reminds you, the dangers
trusting beauty to remain.
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