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REAL Dec 2013
uggg i have words now
now i have them in my mouth
oh i wanna say it!
MAYBE it will change your mind
about choosing me
MAYBE it will make you come back?
I HAVE words now
leaking at my **** tongue
"am i beautiful?"
YES you are
you
but how do you want me to describe
your golden brown hair resting your rosemerry cheek
and how do i decribe the way your  upper lip is could pale
and your bottom lip rose pink!
and the way your upper lip rests sofly upon your bottom lip
HOW do i decribe
these words
that taste like honey
because there are sweet, my words
" this song is amazing!"
no its not!
it is something more
how do i describe the way a certain  beat reminds  me  of your beating heart
upon my chest
how do i describe the way it makes my heart
and my bones dance
HOW
oh i have words now
of my problems
how do i scream them out
so evertthing will be better
and my  happy parts
how do i laugh them out
for they are gorogeus!

OH I HAVE WORDS NOW
clinging on my teeth pouring off my tongue
I HAVE WORDS NOW
and i dont know how to say them...
....i stil dont know how to by the way....
REAL May 2017
sad,how poetry slips slowly out of my life
ill try to grip on
no other thing like it

lazy
friends
girlfriend
biking
school

i guess im just busy

but how i miss writing poetry everyday

being able to say,decribe and even picture  
how i feel which i thought was impossible
Lee Dec 2012
I often find myself in dreams;
in beautiful or haunting scenarios.
Cold and sparkling places filled with the most magnificent sunlight,
rays shoot between pillars and dye entire courtyards calidoscope cream colored majesty,
flowers burst spontaniously on walls, I breathe crystal clouds into the brisk air around me.
The wonder before my eyes bring me to my knee's
and my throat is run dry with exhaultations of pleasure.
Dark forests surround me,
with wet leaves that stick to the ground, the trees, my feet;
unnamed and unrecognized creatures screech in the trees;
my eyes dart back and forth to find a safe place to hide;
sweat runs down my hollowed cheeks;
my jaw locks my tongue between a painful cage of grinding teeth.
I can never succeed in finding anywhere comforting,
as quick and panicd as I fly.
Like a drugged rat in a circular maze my every sense is alive with panic.
The air smells rank, thick with decomposure and earth.
I know it, but the smell itself evades me.
Such unreal and haunting scenarios.
I feel life itself has become unbelievable.
Every clock I read scrambbles itself,
numbers twisting and contorting uncontrollably
like the strange uncomfortable shapes I bend myself into upon waking.
They are just as tired as I am.
They try to evade there duties and posts,
before I can figure out when the **** I am.
Then of course nothing is forever.
Time is only relative.
Infinity is just a sideways 8;
just like god is only real with a capital G.
The walls know these things just as well as I do,
afraid of there mortality they aviod being used,
and when I lean againt them for support they become unwilling,
dissolving against my touch and leaving me to fall perplexed to the other side.
To the unknown things that await me there.
In transition I picture them,
("them" even are an abstract
fuzzy features barely recognizable as human
but still formed enough to inspire fear, or love)
smiling or licking there lips,
forks and knives and plates at the ready,
to tear me open as I land.
I feel fuzzy as I glide or crumble through the wall,
pieces of me wanting to interact with its substance,
but no one of them is strong enough to hold me in or up against it,
and so I complete my way through at last.
My fears and pictures of the other side are null now.
They scurry and dissapate like cockroaches at the flip of a switch;
like drunken minors at the sudden sweep of a spotlight;
like the leaves of a dieing tree in a wind storm;
like the morals of an insane man;
like couples at last call.
I land with a soft thud on the snowy ground outside.
Even with all of this being so unreal, it couldnt be a dream.
Who would dream such mundane things?
Who pictures themselves as such a grotesk figure;
when the world awaits them,
and they could embody every image or hero they ever admired.
Who would create a place like this.
I suppose I would.
With a smug sense of irony I dust the snow or ashes off of myself as I stand
and wander off into the uneventul landscape before me,
but uneventful isn't appropriate to decribe this place.
It doesn't fit.
Just like entertaining doesn't quite fit a clown.
I walk like I'm on the moon
and with each building step and effort I float a little higher
like niel armstrong conquouring that awe inspiring ball in the sky.
I bounce light footed and bewildered through the desolate landscape
untill finnally I level off and soar up,
up above the buildings.
Forward,
forward through the wind and the trees.
Over,
over the slopes and the hills and the clouds.
Into,
into the stratosphere, and beyond the earth to where there is no air for me to breathe.
But I can breathe
and I gulp down sweet nothing with willful and unexplored ignorance.
Freefloating through space I find myself next to that american hero's immortalized steps
finally centered and landed on the surface of that cold rock.
People fear this orb as magical, or controlling
but i stand on it, and feel nothing.
I look down at my home
  at my planet;
   at all of the people I could ever know;
     at every experience I could ever hold dear;
at all of existence.
And my throat tightens up
my heart pounds like a fightened bird
trying to escape from the cage of ribs its trapped in.
I feel myself drifting off
becoming light again
falling asleep
or waking up in a cold sweat
wrapped lonely in my blankets;
but who dreams of these kinds of things?
Its a work in progress and I'm open to suggestions.
Angie Acuña Sep 2013
I was recently asked to decribe my physical features.

So I said that I have a small nose that turns up ever so slightly.
Happy whenever it recognizes your scent.

My eyes are a deep chocolate brown, just the right shade of warmth.

One eyebrow hidden from view
by the mass of hair that engulfs the left side of my forehead.
It waves just for you.

My fingers are long and thin, perfect for grasping yours.

My arms strong and slightly wiry.
Just enough flexibility to hug you.

My lips thin and small,
always in a crooked smile.

My ears are small,
but that's fine because all they do is listen for you.

My stomach is full of butterflies,
patiently awaiting your return.

My legs are slightly built,
always ready to run after you.

My whole body was made for you it seems.
So I will save all of these precious body parts for whenever you claim them.
I'm supposed to be doing homework.
Oh well.
jeffrey conyers Feb 2013
You were more than  a clone.
You more then anyone kept the Temps' rolling along.
Without your sound of sounding like Kendricks.
The group would have faced many questions.

You was the masterpiece needed to keep the puzzle together.
And even now, when we look around.
We can't find anyone better,

Came into the group as Damon.
When you was an Otis too.
You still hold the honor of being the youngest.

You made "Papa" get notice besides Dennis.
And when we take a look around concerning you as a member.
All fans can say you done plenty.

No, you wasn't apart of the Classic Five unit.
But you was apart of the Classic Five seventies unit.
Who could dance just as good as the originals?

From the Young Tempts to being part of the Temptations.
You became apart of the legacy.
Even upon your solo song Funday.
You decribe love in a variety of ways.

Yes, you had an impact on the fans to this day.
And you will have one in heaven.
Otis Harris Jr.  a.k.a Damon, you done well.

We fans bid you farewell.
Jeremy Myers Jan 2012
as I sit here my thoughts are all of you
cuz I know you have these feelings too
so I pick up my phone and go to your name
hit the call button and hang up again

because the missing word that describe how I feel
are nowhere to be found
we go in a circle over and over again
because your words are missing and so are mine

over and over we send smily faces and hi's
both unable to say whats really on our minds
as we fight and make up
help with eachothers break ups
and become completely fed up

cuz the missing words that decribe how we feel
are nowhere to be found
we go in circles over and over again
cuz your words are missing and so are mine
Kelsey Bohn Apr 2016
You hands define me, adoring me, finding my edges, my bums, scares, streach markes, taking it all in, they way you always do, your hands tell me how they love me so, as you hold me so close to you, our hearts in unison, I look at you dark brown eyes, and you look deep into mine as we hold one another so closely nothing but skin touching skin, just breathing one another in, it's hard to decribe such a thing, when you hold each other so close, the trust you feel, it's not a word it's a feeling so strong, that is love of course, I geuss that's the closest thing I could define it as, love. So strong, so pure, so undefined.
Unfortunately....there isnt much to see in new jersey.
.....well at least in my county.

All i see are leafless trees waiting to be pollinated by bees.
....well the small ones with pink flowers at least.

All i feel is a gentle breeze coursing through my finger tips to my forearm. Its pleasant.
....Now its hot...what a tease.

i tried to decribe what lies behind my window screen.

But its a mini project.
                                      .....there isnt much to expect...
                                                                ­                               ...or see.
Nobody Sep 2019
I find it harder and harder to wake up  in the morning not because im lazy or I dont want to go to school. Its solely because im tired; tired of opening my eyes and realizing that Im still here  that i havent been granted my single wish from that one person we call "god". That i have to live through another day in the dark abyuss you call home. I never wanted this life, to be this *******- montser my own mother hides away in her closet, I long for the day i can be happy.  Where i can feel love for the first time. I dont belong here. You see the other day while you all slept, I stayed awake. Its nothing unusal on my part. I live in the dark, sad and alone. Its where ive always been, all ive ever known. That night, this darkness was deeper than before as i sat on my bed and cried my nightly tears I stared into the darkness, looking for my hands Until i rasied them and the tiny sliver of light from my window reflected off my old trusted friend. The cold rusted piece of metal felt right in my hands. It gave me this happiness ill never understand. I shine the glare on my upper leg the lines of dispointment and shame show- themselfs as i read through them; Oh the story they tell.  I know what they all mean I remember every scar and why they lay upon my skin, its a sad story they hold. This one right here the crooked small one Thats the one that started it all. Or this one The wide long dark one twords the end The day i found out i was nothing more than a usless bag of roting flesh to her, that i'll be alone forever.  Thats the one ill never forget Because even to this day I rememeber her sweet soft voice yell at me in the middle of the lunch line to leave her alone. As much as i dont want to remember, no amount of alcohol can fill in the gap she left open Each and every line i read gets me into this rage i cant control Wanting to blame everyone for my problems but i know i caused them myself. I squeze that thin sheet of happiness in my fist and i feel this pain race up my arm  When i let go, my palm is full of this beautiful liquid that remind me im still human. To you it might not seem like much  But to those who understand that unwriten languge you read in the blood "If only this was enough to end your pain, im sorry im insifishant" Its morning now These thoughts have held me back from being happy for once. What is there to do now? Nothing. I have to wait my turn again Oh well, im already used to the feeling of disapointment. I clean myself off in the bathroom right before i look into the mirror. Theres no way to decribe that feeling you get when you look in your eyes and see all the wrong youve ever done.  "Its late, they'll wake up soon" i tell myself  under my breath. I rush to my phone and open to the screen shot of the day i got a taste of what love is. I reread the single reply over and over in my mind before i hear the russle of blankets from the thing my mother decribes as her only son that lays a sleep less than a foot from my bed. "I...i love you"  I try to remember the sound her mouth made as she studered that phrase. " Its time "  I get up from my soon to be death bed and put on my mask before anyone sees The same mask i made myself several years ago. Theres cracks and chips, yes But thats what makes it so uniqe. People try peaking into see my hell. So I do what any scared human would do, push them away. So far they give up and walk away. Im at school, its lunch. I open the door leading into the stair well and i see her. My last hope  Right before she sees me, i count  1...2...3 I remove my mask and hide it  Im shaking shes the first to see whats under. All the years of lonelines will hopefully end today when i show her my heart. Sadly They didnt. They seemed to get lonelier now  "Ding, ding" I dont want to go home I see her car outside waiting for me I feel the vibration in my pocket , I know its her.  I walk slowly down those steps leading to the front.  As i open the door to the outside theres this hope that flutters in my heart the hope i get to see her one last time before i go.  My puples dilate and the sudden blindness fades away  Only to show nobody there. Im "home" now. Theres nothing i can do anymore I just wait here for my time to come.  Its bed time already and i open back to the picture "I...i love you" Thats all i need. The sounds began to fade into the dark  I see her.  No more than a arm away theres nothing around but us. I watch her lips move "I...i love you"  I hear her more vivid than ever tonight. My eyes slowly open Instintly tears rush down the side of my face landing onto the pillow. And so it begans again..
I wish you felt the same again, that we were together in the end.
Tristan Jan 2014
I know you keep a journal
And every page is rippeled
From the tears that you cry
That are going make you scribble.

'Cause words can't decribe
What you're feeling inside
It's like a thousand foot drop
And it's still on the rise.

But look up!
It's a beatiful sight
And see for yourself
You're not that far down.

But know this!
I can not love a little
My promise to you
Was unconditional.

I see you all alone
In a crowd full of "friends"
I can see it in your eyes
That your fading again.

But listen!
It's a beautiful sound
And here for yourself
You're not that far gone.

But know this!
I can not love a little
My promise to you
Was unconditional.
This is a sond that I revised a little, and took out the chorus.
Akshay Ghadge Feb 2018
Goin by my past jorney, i am not certain where life will take me,
What turns and twist will happen,
Nobody knows where it will end up
Do it rather than only thinking..
Life is yours and let the journey begin..


I just made one mistake,
it was enough to get low my respect in her aspect.
This is what she dosent expect,
That i was on a double date,
How can one allow outsider in a private jet?
i broke her with this wrong step...
she or me cant forget, how i cheated
soon she recover with new boyfriend
and the love of mine is over
Its the end
that i cant offend...
i lost the jet in few second
Remember this is not a trend
my efforts being worthless
How can she be so ruthless
Happy for her but i dont i guess..

Now its my time to change
As i am adding numbers to my age,
Soon i have to accept the fact
That she is not coming back
Two guitars cant be fitted in one bag
Now need to focus on the things that can make me strong for the situation i am at
This is how i can move on...
With this song, feelings i penned down,
I am sorry baby for whatever i have done,
You may not forgive me, but i continued the road i am on...

Wait, if you think i m done it
But 3rd one is to be added...
I was havin dairy milk still ran behind the buiscuit
Life is a journey folks, dont waste it
You’ll have to go far to go yet
If ever get stuck in between
Face it
The one can decribe the war is in confinement
and Keep the journey happening...
Install in your mind this one thing
Dont break em who trustin...
People will always find a chance to judge you,
Be able to say all of them, *******!
write it,
decribe it.
let it devour your
tight grip on your
possessions,
reputation,
fear of judgement,
concern for
your receding
hairlines
and failure.
don't ever slow down.
slowing down means
to feel what isn't
necessary
to feel.
the weight is nothing
compared what is next
after the cliff.
your body has been
tainted to begin with
and the only way
around is forward.
go.
never mind the
machinery parts as they
fall piece by piece
along the road.
your worries are
mere distractions
and don't ever forget
that you've ****** up
more times than the
minutes you spend on
worrying.
dying could be set aside,
consider it once you've
outlived your enemies
and your demons.
if you ever find yourself
unable to stand,
your fingers will
gather all what's left
to form something
not new, but a
working dysfunctional
remaining pieces of
yourself.

— The End —