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"deafen" poems
I may be silent but my heart will deafen you
0
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 11:27 PM UTC
INTROVERT
that's the problem, if she wanted to dance, id let her wreck the furniture. if she wanted to cook, id let her burn down the ******* house. and if she wanted to scream, id let her deafen me. I've never loved anyone enough to let them destroy me but **** she could take me by my throat, and my eyes would sparkle at the mere inches between us.
0
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 12:30 AM UTC
Her
I feel like a volcano, that will erupt. The lava isn’t cooling, it’s just heating up. The lightest wind, will blow me off. The most little rain, will drown me in. The lightening strikes, my so called soul. And thunder will, deafen me from my core. Walking in this darkness, I can see no more. Walking in this darkness, I can see no more.
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Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 4:51 PM UTC
Volcano.
*And lo, with evening shadows comes the twinkle of the stars. Yonder is the rising moon and further west is Mars. How wondrous is The Milky Way, away from city lights. The silence seems to deafen me on sultry rural nights. Oh, I could sit upon the porch and listen here for hours. Indeed, the night reflects the subtle magic of nature's powers. Play on, oh evening symphony and with this starry scene, Delight my senses off to slumber with a summer dream.*
0
Aug 5, 2017
Aug 5, 2017 at 12:30 AM UTC
Summer Nights
Did you lay me down on a bed of nails and expect me to surrender my all ? I felt the waves wash over and they engulfed all that was good Dragging me down lower than I have ever fallen freely I wanted a lover But you entwined your darkness into my light No one heard the screams The midnight hour so haunting A chill lay in place of your heart You looked straight through me just before you leapt Head first into oblivion I just stood motionless for what seemed like a million years Then I turntable and left The memory is hollow But it is memory all the same I beckon you here But not so that I can surrender to your will But so that I can show you the truth in all things good You may shy away Hide in those self created shadows of misery But I will  lay waiting Just past midnight The chill and silence deafen my soul My love I beg I beg I'm falling I'm sitting within your oblivion Surrounded by creatures not of this world Demons reign and I fear the fall I turn I always turn You may leap into the hollowness of oblivion But I fear it's clutches I fear the hand of love So turn tail and return To the moment before midnight The moment just before The memory lingers And the strike of twelve is never heard
0
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 5:19 PM UTC
Falling into Oblivion
I can't write...      I have a stash of twenty drafts, bearing a couple of lines each I can't crack...      Every draft seem to have developed a shell I can't breach I can't gather...      My thoughts so I could nurture these drafts to fruition I can't think...      The clatter in my head meant only to deafen I can't fathom...      What went right from what had gone completely awry I can't find...      Much needed sanity to let soar and fly I can't cry...      The tears I've beckoned for so very badly I can't scream...      Only muffled gurgles of notions drowned at sea I can't see...      The bigger picture...that consumed us both I can't hear...      Except for the dreaded voice of reason that I loathe I can't piece...      Together one decent little write ***I can't breathe...      I can't breathe...***I'm losing this fight
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Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 6:19 AM UTC
I Can't...
Colors blind the eye. Sounds deafen the ear. Flavors numb the taste. Thoughts weaken the mind. Desires wither the heart. The Master observes the world but trusts his inner vision. He allows things to come and go. His heart is open as the sky. __ "Lao Tzu is believed to have been a Chinese philosopher (a person who seeks to answer questions about humans and their place in the universe) and the accepted author of the Tao Te Ching, the main text of Taoist thought. He is considered the father of Chinese Taoism (a philosophy that advocates living a simple life). Read more: Lao Tzu Biography - life, name, death, school, book, old, information, born, time http://www.notablebiographies.com/Ki-Lo/Lao-Tzu.html
0
Oct 29, 2010
Oct 29, 2010 at 9:38 AM UTC
The Tao- 12. Colors blind the eye.
Tacked tin sheets promoting brand names Real local grown food little meat eaten our elders thin, bony and fit Yet birthed another foolish generation seeded by World Wars planted by Lend Lease fuelled by aged forests we farm, feed, cleave and eat Greed walks besides naive naivety slaughtered sheep full of cancer processing industrial carcase-ed meals shopaholics fat consumerism a speeding, partying, dancing waste of ills Lawyer-ed  politicians chain us whilst stymied party politics deafen us Money-ed propaganda’s herd us Local economies destroyed to feed *National ..European ..Pan European ..Pan Asian ..World Bank ... Prime Minister ..President ..Minister ..Senator ..Consultant* Globalisation’s plague of selfish-self-grandiose labels A generation’s survivors will despair as the Ganges runs dry then die with their children’s children in an armed-hungry-thirsty tide .
0
Apr 23, 2010
Apr 23, 2010 at 3:41 PM UTC
Born Screaming......
Alone I walked into the sea, Engulfed by amber waves of ecstasy, In which I crossed a boundary line Where I left my mind behind. I swam and swam until I tired Yearnning for something I’d never acquire- A thing that was the death of me. O, those amber waves of ecstasy, How they tossed and tore at my fragile being Attempting to show me what I was not seeing; Reaching for conclusion that would be freeing. Amber waves of ecstasy, Amber waves of ecstasy, Please come and drown me once again, Come deafen the screams within my head That crave to be released from me. O, amber waves of ecstasy, The fault of my errors lie with me. O, amber waves of ecstasy, Please show me how to set myself free.
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Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 4:41 PM UTC
Amber Waves of Ecstasy
Measure my love in starlight And set the sky ablaze Measure my love in words And eternal speak my beloved’s praise Measure my love in raindrops And overflow the seas Measure my love in sighing And make storms from a summer breeze Measure my love in music And hear all the world’s choirs sing Measure my love in riches And make every pauper a king Measure my love in heartbeats And deafen every ear Measure my love in laughter And banish every tear Seek to measure my love as some might wish By consulting the learned or wise But each effort will fail, because such a scale No mortal thought can devise
0
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 5:43 PM UTC
Boundless
I wear white I wear white I wear white and stare right back at the other end of the world The hems of the loosely fitting traditions Barely touch the ground anymore I wear white I wear white White like the chalk on the blackboard switched from right to left. Aimless and bereft of the desert I once called mine, I walk alone I wear white, I wear white As I have done for 14 hours and 14 years 7000 miles on the screen and 2 more up there to be precise. It faded for every mile Just as it has been doing since the day Darwish died I wear white, I wear white A different breed of Semite than they're used to Not walking but flowing almost as contradictory as "poutine Arabesque" The routine wears my jaw out as the vowels twist from right to left I wear white, I wear white Not just quite there yet Not even close Not even halfway to the surface but then again I suppose we've always been at ease at the depths of the sea Pearls and black gold abound I forget that sometimes in between intermittent bouts and doubts of "3arabiyun ana" As if that's what makes up the anatomy of an Arab As if that's enough for you, Khaled I wear white I wear white Or at least I tell myself I do Leave myself open to the prospect of life starting anew Forcing myself to see it through See life through your eyes Or are they my own **** you ? Tell me for the love of Christ Call me by name and don't bury me under the empty discarded photo frames that you stockpile I'm calling to you, Walid And will keep on calling And trying and burning and aching and failing and dreaming and irritating like a bad itch I sink under it all and push it all off step 3 repeat as necessary I scream in the tongue that you deafen your ears to and pull at the beard you've tried to shave off I pluck at the horizontal heartstrings you've tried to mute Above all, I wear white... And I fight.... I fight..... I FIGHT
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Apr 4, 2010
Apr 4, 2010 at 8:10 AM UTC
Poutine Arabesque
I wear white I wear white I wear white and stare right back at the other end of the world The hems of the loosely fitting traditions Barely touch the ground anymore I wear white I wear white White like the chalk on the blackboard switched from right to left. Aimless and bereft of the desert I once called mine, I walk alone I wear white, I wear white As I have done for 14 hours and 14 years 7000 miles on the screen and 2 more up there to be precise. It faded for every mile Just as it has been doing since the day Darwish died I wear white, I wear white A different breed of Semite than they're used to Not walking but flowing almost as contradictory as "poutine Arabesque" The routine wears my jaw out as the vowels twist from right to left I wear white, I wear white Not just quite there yet Not even close Not even halfway to the surface but then again I suppose we've always been at ease at the depths of the sea Pearls and black gold abound I forget that sometimes in between intermittent bouts and doubts of "3arabiyun ana" As if that's what makes up the anatomy of an Arab As if that's enough for you, Khaled I wear white I wear white Or at least I tell myself I do Leave myself open to the prospect of life starting anew Forcing myself to see it through See life through your eyes Or are they my own **** you ? Tell me for the love of Christ Call me by name and don't bury me under the empty discarded photo frames that you stockpile I'm calling to you, Walid And will keep on calling And trying and burning and aching and failing and dreaming and irritating like a bad itch I sink under it all and push it all off step 3 repeat as necessary I scream in the tongue that you deafen your ears to and pull at the beard you've tried to shave off I pluck at the horizontal heartstrings you've tried to mute Above all, I wear white... And I fight.... I fight..... I FIGHT
Continue reading...
56
If you must insult her & torture me, I shall request you to rather **** me. For I can't see the love of my life being soiled, Fresher torrential treatment to her endowed. Don't just blind me for I can't take it, Deafen me such that I can't hear it... For sake of the supreme power you believe in, Freak out, cut my limbs but don't torment her. Has time made you as cruel like this, Have we invited such horrible steps. Gory steps you advance with towards my love, Glowing with fury my chained limbs struggle!! When I set myself free then you will see, Would you be able to face the same fate.
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Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 12:53 AM UTC
If You Must (Macbeth Inspired)
If you want into my life Leave your baggage at the door I've got enough all packed away And I've no room for any more I know you want to be with me And I want to be with you But, box up all your past mistakes And you know what you can do I've room to house all sorts of things My cupboards are all bare But, baggage like you're carrying It's not stuff I want to share If you want into my life Leave your baggage at the door I've got enough all packed away And I've no room for any more I went through hell a thousand times Packed a bag inside my mind for every failed relationship And times I was caught blind I want to have you in my life And share our hopes and dreams But, pack those bags up in your mind And help deafen out the screams If you want into my life Leave your baggage at the door I've got enough all packed away And I've no room for any more Whatever you did long before Or even just last week I don't need it here inside I don't want to hear it speak I've room for things..material Like books and clothes and more But if you bring bags of emotions Then you'll not get past my door If you want into my life Leave your baggage at the door I've got enough all packed away And I've no room for any more
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Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 4:18 PM UTC
Leave your baggage at the door
i am sitting here at 3 am confronting the empty side of my bed my thoughts hold me hostage to create a cage that i will not be able to escape i try to play dead until they leave me alone i try to shift shapes for a hope they might leave i try lighting a candle for flicks of light to cast the darkness away but i soon begin to realize that im not afraid of the dark i cant get out of bed my thoughts are holding me hostage im at a place i dont want to be at and can not leave the sound of loneliness slowly begins to deafen me the silver ray of moon is almost blinding me all that i see through the reflection of my glass are the bones of a hollow body, just like silver, starting to rust and here i speak to my thoughts that i have surrendered to their thoughtless plots they ring my ears, with demands to give up my soul to their filthy hands i stumble as i try to stand up i am as weak as a sedated body ready to be cut my knees tremble like magnets attached to no other but my bed they repel any movement to stand up straight panic fills my fearful cup my gaze shifts to my reflection and i see the ghost of forgotten remains of someone who has lost i do not want to die i deserve more than being ended by no other than my filthy thoughts i force my eyes open and smash the reflection with both my fists adrenaline painfully waking my body up with every ounce i have left i try to detach myself from my bed i am peeling layers off and have never been in more pain but it is all worth the pain for i wont fail myself again to become forgotten ruins of a life-time faded into a blank sheet there is more to my story than just an empty bed for i will not be manipulated by my own self again even if it shall be 3 a.m again
0
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 8:27 AM UTC
3 a.m
i am sitting here at 3 am confronting the empty side of my bed my thoughts hold me hostage to create a cage that i will not be able to escape i try to play dead until they leave me alone i try to shift shapes for a hope they might leave i try lighting a candle for flicks of light to cast the darkness away but i soon begin to realize that im not afraid of the dark i cant get out of bed my thoughts are holding me hostage im at a place i dont want to be at and can not leave the sound of loneliness slowly begins to deafen me the silver ray of moon is almost blinding me all that i see through the reflection of my glass are the bones of a hollow body, just like silver, starting to rust and here i speak to my thoughts that i have surrendered to their thoughtless plots they ring my ears, with demands to give up my soul to their filthy hands i stumble as i try to stand up i am as weak as a sedated body ready to be cut my knees tremble like magnets attached to no other but my bed they repel any movement to stand up straight panic fills my fearful cup my gaze shifts to my reflection and i see the ghost of forgotten remains of someone who has lost i do not want to die i deserve more than being ended by no other than my filthy thoughts i force my eyes open and smash the reflection with both my fists adrenaline painfully waking my body up with every ounce i have left i try to detach myself from my bed i am peeling layers off and have never been in more pain but it is all worth the pain for i wont fail myself again to become forgotten ruins of a life-time faded into a blank sheet there is more to my story than just an empty bed for i will not be manipulated by my own self again even if it shall be 3 a.m again
Continue reading...
54
plead your case. the silence that follows will deafen your prayers... it will eat your rain. tread where smoke has layed eggs in a nest of flames. use your thoughts nimbly, and thereby, climb the ladder madly humbly gone by love, my love. humbly gone by love. these are not the words in my mouth. they are god's frogs. a soft plague of cecil b. demille with ampibians and barbedwire. these are not the fickle neptunes in dischord. you are not the last unicorn. only the basilisk in my zodiac. my marvelous queen. these are not the feathers of a proud crane. but a wrecking ball reassembling a dandelion with a leather whip and a chair. they tumble from my limbic intimacy with your private lies. i bring genuine venom to cure blindness; but i leave an antidote under my tongue should your kisses beg to be a fool. i won't say what this is. i have bruises where your name left a dent in my kevlar.
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Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 8:47 AM UTC
GOD'S FROGS
Seven forty five we start to arrive To tea coffee water or squash We’re all there by eight and no one is late Not without a good reason or ten There’s Barry, and Michael (his brother) and several others And Sharon and Karen and Ken Keeping it neat in our stocking feet We find ourselves somewhere to sit We all bring a bible and some bring a bottle And some come with paper and pen There’s Anita and Jill and some others still And Sharon and Karen and Ken Breaking the ice with something nice That’s happened to you in the week We go round the room and each takes their turn Telling what happened to them There’s Geraldine, Barbara, and others we’ve seen And Sharon and Karen and Ken Now the serious bit we listen to it From a tape or on D.V.D. Then we split to discuss not shouting too much Taking care not to deafen Hosts Pauline and Paul and that’s not all There’s Sharon and Karen and Ken From heated debate before it gets late We gather our thoughts and pause We offer a prayer for those who aren’t there For the world and for the church Amen From Wendy and John and I should mention Sharon and Karen and Ken Then a choice of drink what do you think Of squash or coffee or tea Now a glass of red wine that would be fine It’s hard to know when to say when For David and others I won’t mention (the brothers) Or Sharon and Karen and Ken
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Jul 19, 2010
Jul 19, 2010 at 12:49 PM UTC
Nurture Group
The last time we spoke was in early hours Full of impersonal inquiry. The return of encompassing doubt Brings back images birthed from tragic experience. Trailing blood lines lead to the southern coasts And I begin to doubt the intention of my late inclination. Another lover unable to contain my heart Another running away from the abyss of ugly honesty. It's all very overwhelming and too much to bear. I will return to live in the well of my brain And dream of the ocean. No one will hear this mournful siren trapped in the earth, For I have picked the most hidden tree to observe from my depth. Even if they traverse the infinite path, Only those who bare insanity will look away from the branches of knowledge And find these pupils in the infernal darkness. But my heroes never know how to temper these depths, Either falling to their death Or painfully giving up with rightful indignation. The waves of my thought deafen this soul To the courageous explorers of my immortal caves. Leave me to the well of my brain, darling. The early hours bleed into dawn As I think on the embarrassment I feel in love. I have much more to understand And you don't deserve my naivety. I decide to close my eyes And force your departure. Finally, I can sleep with the ease of accepted solitude.
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Dec 18, 2011
Dec 18, 2011 at 4:39 PM UTC
D. (The Well of Vain Sorrow)
It begins with your body shaking, And then your hands clench into fists Nails digging into your palms. You’ve felt it build for awhile now, And feel it well up, A dam about to break, As you hear your heart beat, Bursting in your ears. And your eyes close by reflex, As your jaw stretches open to its further extent There is the noise that causes people to stop and stare. That makes hearts speed up, And others wonder why. This is the raw primal scream. Do you then slam your fist into a wall, Again and again until your knuckles bleed? Or do you grasp yourself tight, And crumple into wracking sobs, Gasping for air? This is a colorless scream. Simultaneously devoid of feeling, And filled with every feeling within you. The desire to die every waking moment, And that stubborn will to survive. The rage at being powerless in your life, Frustration at continuing to **** up, The cry of trying to be better than who you are, But not sure why. The howl of two wolves, Gnawing at your insides, You no longer sure which you are feeding. This is the scream that can crush mountains, Raze a city, And deafen all those in its range. At the end of your rope, You stand upon the brink of nothing, And deep within you all you feel that you can do now is scream. But then you open your eyes, And nothing has changed. So you take a deep breath, And try and ignore what you just did, But wonder if it was even what you needed.
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Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 3:40 AM UTC
Scream
just let that ******* bass drop. and throw in those lights as well. definitley some smoke. lasers too. maybe a few LED screens. or ten. or twenty. or just one that fills the entire stage. that's cool i guess. paid a **** ton of money. i want a ******* trip. i want my ears to ring. her *** to bounce. fifty thousand fists to pump. in perfect unison. like it means something. those girls with fake flowers adorning their heads. all of the bright, like a feast for the night. the glitter. the paint. the airborne cake. . . like it means something. this scene will continue to grow because nobody knows what it set out to do in the first place. big lights and pop hooks. small pills and good looks. now you're one of us. no knowledge required. the music plays without you on stage. deafen me. defeat me. alive. this is what it means to be.
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Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 7:29 PM UTC
EDM
Drops round and run down low Mud forms and creates tiny valleys within. Red roads drop and rises , As insults flashes like thunder bolts. Horns deafen ears, As blood blinds eyes . Rollercoaster highways, Or more like riding a bull, Feel the aches in the waist. Infact the mechanical horses were older  than earth herself. You could see holes and rust  in the metals. The government stood by the red road idle,accepting fines and kinds. If only they had listened to their cries, Blood would still remain in veins.
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May 14, 2019
May 14, 2019 at 4:07 PM UTC
The bloodthirsty Road.
the enchantress is on the hunt tonight— behind her veil hides a porcelain doll's face. when you smell the fragrance of dreams and death, you know she is coming. be wary, you are doomed: take her spell, be dizzy in her love like moonlight let her song deafen you let her magic have you dumbfounded let her poison seep into your veins; "honey, you don't need necromancy to know i'm your fate, your future" she says, as she brews her poison to be sipped like wine. the enchantress is on the hunt tonight she's out to get you, there's no way out except in, into the twisted world of the strange occult queen who always wins.
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Nov 28, 2016
Nov 28, 2016 at 11:01 PM UTC
enchantress on the hunt
Disastified. Dissatisfaction. Disappointing, disappear. Disability, disdaining- disgusting Difficult dislike Disgrace Let down. Saddened. aghast - balked. Beaten. chap-fallen - deafen. Bitter-pill. Blind. Alley. Blow. Anticlimactic. Crestfallen. thwarted, foil. baffle, bilk - discomfited, frustrated. thwarted. Unsuccessful
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Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 12:22 PM UTC
D
Caustic doorway blues The fog sets in, and the moon doesn't glow when brick structures crumble Rats in worn carpeting, writhing The screaming from pensive terminals and insects live on dead wood trees felled in hollow rounds This is the end of something warm These are days of hydrogen loneliness and grey skies applaud the tarmac Pornographers snap pictures of silhouettes in garages and the playground hears no love when gunshots deafen the trees and the old mattress is sodden Stale alcohol pungency near the alleyway, dormant today But the lights are still glowing in the house by the canal where somebody's memories still linger
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Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 4:34 PM UTC
Melancholy Tableaus From A Crippled Town
Society is evil And terribly hollow. We are lost today And forgotten tomorrow. In a world of hate and artificial love, the most aware see no savior above. You cannot argue, for I have seen the deadly epitome of Reality. Slaves to Society may hold us down; but they will never deafen our sound. We have been broken too many times; so with tortured hearts, forever we will fight.
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Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 10:57 PM UTC
Epitome of Reality