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Lawren Jun 2012
An imaginary but desirable sense of control
Created by the bully in my head
Screaming at me, pressuring me, hurting me
Encapsulating my mind as a second meninges.
Impossible to separate my true thoughts
From what it tells me,
My conscious mind is tied to a cinder block
And left to drown in its enticingly rough waves.

My physical being constantly changing with the tide
Unpredictable but regular,
Shallow but deep.
****** into its infinite black hole,
I am left feeling disgusted and ashamed
Of all that is me.

No longer am I able to decide the way in which
My needs are met-if in fact they are met.
As though I have DID, I am constantly bouncing
From alter to alter
Body to body.

Blinded from looking directly into its sun,
I am warmed and comforted by its rays
While reassured that my doubts are unwarranted.
If ever defied, it scolds and whips me,
Like a master to his *****,
A father to his child.

The welts and cuts, gratefully rip into my
Skin, muscle and bone –
Punishment for my wrongdoings and self.
I, immediately silenced
Remove myself from society,
Restricting contact, nourishment and emotions
To nil.

It is not until someone notices
The beginnings of an eternal invisibility,
That I am released and
Able to breathe in
The salty air of life.
Kara Jean Jun 2016
Most nights I sit outside
Just me and the crickets chirping and of course my wine
A husband gone most of the time, hardworking a love defined
I hear my words echoing as I anticipate writing them slowly  
I don't know how to break it down, this urge growing
The cars drive rumbling, as if my soul is colliding with a semi
I know what should be done but I'm not ready
How can you complain about the deliberate choices you made
We reminisce just to ******* our blinded heart guiding
I want to know where to go
My soul already has the knowledge, I just like fighting
The crickets are confiding as the breeze throws the roses aroma in front of me
Breathing deeply, a defense mechanism when the tears are sliding
A plastic 3 dollar crown will be the closes I come to being a queen, as I hear the muffled soothing music in the background
Now I lay against the pavement to sleep because my bed is just to lonely
;Cheating defined.:
1. "Anything that I do
that does not involve you."

2. "Nurturing any part of me
that does not satisfy some part of you."

3. "Satisfying any need i have
that seems illigitiment in your mind."


. . . At least, that's what I've come to understand. . . .
i wish i got to re-write the dictionary
Sumairu Feb 18
I never knew intelligence could look so alluring.

My curiosity wants to breach every inch of your thoughts.

I feign for your provoking words to stimulate my mind.

I am ensnared by beauty clothed in intelligence.

You speak therefore I listen.
Inspiration can come in such unlikely forms.
CK Baker Jan 2018
who lit the candles
placed eloquently
behind purple rock?
the sculpted radiance,
chapel grace
wound in a chosen
defined way
down the spiral
stone stairs

street cars dawdle
alongside
the packer slew
biding merchants
and frontmen
shuffle their wares
as the madman
and pock face
sing their
holy blues

cut jazz echoes
over the accompanying
gabble and drone
incense and haze
pour from
a lower trap door
sack fish, truffles
and splendid crafts shine
inside the stained glass fronts

a wide mouth snapper
with a bloated tongue
greets the
morning tide
(not camera shy
in the least!)
the fish traps
and beaneries
bring life
to the flourishing causeway

hula hoops
and ballers
join the
cobaine stage
favoured rogues
and mac jacks
speak easy
of the big daddy

beth’s triple by pass
taking firm hold on
tricky ****
and the nutcracker
maze ways,
taggers and
lost tunnels
of cu chi
strike a
nerving blow

a poised finger man
belts out his tune
(with a sniff sock
and iterating glare)
his nosey neighbors
cut artisan bread
(with a white wine
and jelly spread)
midwives push forward
for an afternoon
toddle and stroll
Lena Bitare Oct 2018
And I tried to look
For moments
That would tell me
Who I am;
And in those moments
Where I collapse in darkness;
And find another soul
And find light,
Those were the moments
I find beautiful
And there are moments
Which defined who I truly am�
Anecandu Jul 2018
The gilded opening is terse and with age defined,
Locking away the pathway from a golden mind,
Hairlike roots of tiny letters form a braid,
Ficus-ing along stretching prongs of Purple and Jade,

Pushing they gather and spider around its ovate curves,
occasioning sprouts from cracks lips perturbed,
grammarized rain fertilizing delicate pods of flesh,
blossoming frosty lemon blooms of T's R's come to rest,

The bunched words hanging, dangling like grapes, of frailty,
dipping on fickle branches barely holding on to reality,
threatening to fall like daggered swords,
But alas are some silently whispered Jamaican words
JP Nov 2018
The
process between
Desire and fulfilment
called happiness
Nat Lipstadt Feb 2015
this is a very important poem to me,
about me, and how Obama slurred my people. and never apologized

<•>

there are mornings when I wake up
in my nativity,
in my born/bred,
these struggling to be happy,
United States,
strangely hebrew-speaking,
Jamaican coffee
morning-thinking,
tallying up
what I am,
who I am,
commanded to be,
on this Earth

the labels that the
outward-looking apply,
the tags,
that you have caused
yourself to be defined,
been staked
to your claim,
in infamy and in fame,
that you have
by action and indeed,

have allow
to be presented
as entries on your
global entry passport,
with visas from the
lows and highs,
places where
your have sinned and saved,
all the acts accumulated,
and those,
in pain,
you have been a witness to

word titles that
tinge and suffuse,
summation of my presentation,
sampler of words
like
father, poet,
American,
even,
a for-real
community organizer,
and of course,
bien sûr,
a
Jew

the quality of all these life's papers,
which I grade myself,
I,
the harshest marker
of all

once a young man,
safely away in college,
under the fresh-air freedom of the
university's in loco parentis,
in the early years
spent quantifying oneself

nearly fifty years ago,
now he,
revealed and recalled
when
his college typed-letter,
lately uncovered amidst his,
recently passed mother's papers

"Don't know what kind of
Jew
I will be, but be assured,
that I will be a
Jew
all my life"

so here I am doing my post-sabbath,
top of the week,
right it down,
qualifying myself,
coffee enraged engaged,
a new Sunday tally

taking all my terms,
reordering,
re-prior-itizing,
what was prior, first,
is no longer

decades decay,
events sway,
simple words change me, stain me

nearing on five decades later,
when this
son of speakers,
son of humanists and 
son of
 writers,
son of proud
Jews
rewrites his list

today I write/substitute,
a new order,
a tag gladly taken,
a marker given,
some what in pride,
some in shame too,
first and foremost,
à la manière d'Lincoln
I am
of, by and for

"a bunch of folks in a deli"

proud member of them
that so identify,
for they are among those
that shall not perish from the Earth

those
happenstance-not,
bunch of folks in a deli,
I claim as
mine own,
as they would
have claimed me

no subtly professed,
a diminishment intended,
and now
an honorific taken,
Medal of Honor provoked and embraced,
proudly inscribed,
visible on my forehead,
in the black ink of mourning,
a Presidential Cain Citation,
a tattoo of letters,
not numbers,
now moves up to
head of the list,
I am
now and forever,
a member of that corps
(appreciate that double entendre)
I am
Je suis
JE JUIF

*"a bunch of folks in a deli"
Just google that phrase

Obama’s slur
Angge Dec 2015
His study, with books of various kinds,
A dim light, his only source—
To keep himself from going blind
To keep himself on course

In Langdon's mind,
Whatever stood behind this force
Is yet to be defined.
Day 3 - Find the nearest book (of any kind). Turn to page 8. Use the first ten full words on the page in a poem. You may use them in any order, anywhere in the poem.

Book used: "Angels & Demons" by Dan Brown
Plush and Prim is your White, Feathery Plume
Soft the Inertia of your Thighs update
I pray this time, your Victory resume,
Revive your Year's Fortress not far too late
In your eyes you reject the Gambler's View
For no such Attitude ever won Hearts
The Paddles you took - timed and faster blue
Were enough for us to make Key Remarks
This Beauty, defined as Hair-Painted Wind,
Tad effort needed to brush your Canvas red
Pour out! Pour out! Pour, Passion's Purest Sprint
And let your Spirit drape these Words instead:
I'll just be right here, cheering for your Cause
Whether win or lose my Soul will not pause.
#v_pendleton
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
Believing in you, I lost my own way,
losing myself in you and to you
My better half I called you, cliché,
but you were my whole, all I could see.

Everything I am was defined by who you are.
Now I am left without any of me,
but a dream of who I was
before we came to be.

Beginning again without a foothold,
holding to the past like a lifeline tied to you.
Lost in the memory, blind to what could be,
looking all of the time for me.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
The spark of creativity
or genesis of thoughts
defined as an idea
coming from a void

For the word Man
is translated as Thought
and thinking in itself
is action of Man
Basically gives you the entire gist behind the myth without doing what I did which was to read dozens of books with small excerpts about it.
King Panda Sep 2015
the only flowers I
recognize are
tulips
denver-bred
blooming
fire
red
yellow
orange
photochemistry
defined by
valentine
bouquet
quite
atypical
yet
beautiful

wax-coating
iridescent
rain
mirror
ferti­lized
stamen
kiss me
bad
you
are the
only
species
that can
survive in my
backyard

I think I
love
you
How Sweet yet Sorted your Flavours that Are
Branding each ****** where **** is the Key
Keeping their Thoughts stalled in Wonder that far
Beheld the Heart's Choice you picked out to be
Now in my Learning from Elders since Time
That People regardless are not Hors d'Oeuvres
Nipping that Spread to where Souls are defined
And acknowledge the Praise they so deserve
These are your Customers; Satisfy them
Yet still keep your Person well and maintained
None do they ask for much Sterlings and Sense
Just that Spark to which your Truth is retained.
That Day will come when no Fish will swim by,
Stressed on their Fins with the Bubbles you cry.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
Alike to Twin Minds with Hands and Feet possess
Perform their own Stage and make a Good Score
With such Lyrics does their Rhythm address
Defined in the Air; As once did before
Which, in some Ardent but Doubtful Degree
Would deny the Advice handed down in Print
Since they are a Pair submitted to Belief
That to answer those Charges was far too Mint
Much for their Lifted Chins to Cower in Shame
Knowing the Goals they defer would spell their End
But why would they Work so much for a Name
When in Wrinkles are their Numbered Values spent?
There is Reason why the Pool is cleaned Within
To drain-in the ****; To blue-out the Sin.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
Kara Jean Jun 2016
Eternal doom is beauty enticing
The fairytale in a nightmare
There is no heaven or ****
There is a god and the devil
Neither one is in midst of prevailing
A fight tamed for human beings
Love is a defined checklist
Happiness is an experience
Trust ends the moment you say yes
Death is a panic emotion cold
Butterflies destroyed
Turned into soil
Growing the apple tree you eat
Turn down the noise
It's only morbid souls weeping
Homunculus Mar 2016
Enamored of the possible, and racing,
  Through a winding maze of endless choices,  
  Daunted by the obstacles we're facing, and 
  Dizzied by the clamor's many voices,

Shackled by a heavy chain of causes,
  Binding us to all we've ever known,
  The many paths before us give us pause, as
  We struggle to define which are our own,

Within a world that's not of our own making
    We anxiously await the day we'll find,
    A journey worthy of our undertaking, so
    That purpose in our lives may be defined, but
    
Perhaps our fate condemns us all to wander, and
       Our lives are merely mysteries to ponder
I think this is the first of a series of 5 Shakespearean sonnets based on Aristotle's rhetorical foundations. Telos means an "ultimate object or aim." This particular iteration also owes its driving force to Heidegger's notion of "thrownness" or the idea that we all inherit a ready made world from the history of our predecessors, and struggle against the way the facts which constitute that world condition what is possible for us to achieve within it. The other 4 will be Kairos, Logos, Ethos, and Pathos; and I will be working on and publishing them as they come to me. - Your Humble Servant
False Poets Feb 2015
the mathematical statement in fluid mechanics that, for a fluid passing through a tube in a steady flow, the mass flowing through any section of the tube in a unit of time is constant**

instantaneous our love defined,
a fluid mechanic in the realm of ethereal,
where unlimited immeasurable undefinable

mass time flow sweat pulse anger forgive caress kind

quantifiable terms of our equation unique
in this poem
no waxing poetic,
excellent pure licked lips
are quantums and quarks visualized
though invisible the flow constant per unit of time from
initial good morning kiss to intemperate
indulgent good night conclusions
submitted here for your
analytical digression importuned

the square root of the continuity equation's solution
is
.......
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
Seeing you again tears at my heart
ripping at old wounds
gaping with hope and sorrow,
emotion screaming out of me
down my face and out of my arms
that long to hold you again.

Don’t you see the pain?
Can’t you feel this chest
that beats without a heart?  
Haven’t you felt this too?
I bleed more each time I see you
Making me weaker to its numbing intoxication.

Letting go, I must find an ending,
But where to start
when the ending is not defined.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
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