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Lunar May 2018
He told me,
"You are a
coincidence
that looks like
destiny."

I told him,
"You are a
déjà vu
that looks like a
memory."

They told us,
"You are a
dream
that looked like
reality."
The quoted lines in the first stanza are the lyrics of one of my favorite songs, "First Time," by DAY6.

I have frequent déjà vus, which i always mistake for memories which are mine or i've been through. reality can get so confusing sometimes.

(j.m.)
Amanda Jean Jul 2018
They say deja vu is a glitch in the matrix
Repeating numbers is a sign from the universe
Angels scream my name from upside down on the ceiling telling me to quit looking at the clock maybe demons maybe I should pay the **** attention
222333444555666777whaaaaaat
That’s not a time
Time ain’t it
Time heals don’t it
But what is stagnant
Sometimes we’re dead
But we move fast
Together
In time
Travel
Through space
Through a line meet your soul face to mine
Hearts beat faster time moves with it that’s the reality so what are you doing
Taking it slow or fast it’s you or pass
Illuminati my life with your eye-seed to the sky can’t remember my thoughts don’t know why I even try
Try to finish a creation pieces of art are never finished close to what I think
Is completion I think I forget how to breathe I’ve got a blemish I cannot see I’m not sure what’s on my lenses sometimes i don’t speak please tell me what the bens is
Keep saying I’m haunted aight
Keep tellling em I’m doing fine
Life’s chaotic but that’s what it’s about
The blends of of the **** around
The hint hang ying yang huh
The freak shows births golds of stone (gh) yeah
But do you even know what the sheets is what if we really going to do da business man **** this **** I don’t know it I already told you I don’t know how to complete this I have no solutions I feel soulless and too much negative too much negative shitnitz my focus my pictures too big I don’t know how to control this I kept saying that I want to relinquish self but what I really need to do is help make a squeal tell em truly how I feel Queen lions roar from the jungles to the shores sideways animals judging their **** from the sidelines
Wasn’t the point making them feel the fire burning in mountain veins but what animals can you truly tame
Cavemen mocking snakes forming fires for the first time killing em with their own tricks man we keep repeating history with our imperialisthe ******* stupidest **** ever
Please excuse my individual
I’ve not much experience with taking over but with my experience we’ll have an experience we’ve never had before and from there our experience will be something to learn from we learn from experiences
I’m opening my mind and my forgiveness forget to forgive I’m all in forgetfulness can we speed to the completion of wishes I beg this from the bottom of my ***** soles to the top of my buzzed head I hear sobriety is the path to success but I can’t create in loneliness I bring pain and sorrow to the art party drown me out with ***** and bring me to my knees in grass prairies in heaven Reaching out for angels bind me in confusion it’s raining in my heart tea parties never breed working brains did they never tell you that in school? Keep teaching myself everyday yeah in the backs of tiny rooms on mountain peaks I breathe in tropical trees blurring all the lines that form all sorts of definition communication of my mind to yours, the shore at the end of the telephone game I lost the rhythm that goes to the flow I dropped the wand that brings flying wings I smacked the lips of the devil I kreeped in **** I’ve been told I’ve always been addicted to pain repeats repeats 444
CGW Oct 2018
Somewhere out there is something through all the dangling darkness.
There is a pitter patter of reverse rain.
A string quartet of meaningless existentialism.
We are caught between two worlds.
There is no turning back.
Each person here to play their own part.
Every thought endlessly echoing for future generations.
For future generations.
I don't know why I am here, why I am enhanced and injected, with fear.
Perhaps that while death was sweeping the sea of people he forgot me.
The choreography of shooting stars passing by us.
Here we all are together in this world.
Love is like deja vu seemlesly causing the whole of the universe to function.
Woke up today in my dreams and I walked to a blurry window and looked outside and I could not tell what was real and what was just dreams.
I feel we have been told by society that dreams and things that we think are fake and only the tangible world is real.
But dreams and thoughts that we think are more real than anything.
For a half remembered dream was created by you and will stay with you.
Random thoughts repeating.
Repeating.
We are the children of tomorrow birthed from our ******* up insecurities that laugh at us.
Ha ha.
Based on the movie Synecdoche, New York
Sonia Ettyang Oct 2018
I've been here before
I have seen this before
It feels like a labyrinth
A meandering path
Every finishing line is the beginning of a new life line
Round and around
A never ending maze, a never ending path
A cycle that keeps repeating itself like a rhyme
Merrily, merilly, merrily, merrily
Life is but a dream
Life is but a dream
jane taylor Apr 2016
shadows casting forward
pastel edges
of water colored nebulous scenes
once known

i fuse with deja vu
in its feather-like fringe
i beg for the meaning
of history reliving

perhaps it’s a maze
tho’ previously scripted
funhouse mirrors silently mock
our own carnival

or is it a wink?
the north star is nodding
a slight innuendo
we’re not lost at sea

perchance it’s a hint
it is all an illusion
a glitch in the matrix
the black cat walks by

i grasp for the answer
and peer at the ghostly
parchment paper dream
as it dissolves to thin air

©2018janetaylor
Her warm words wash over me like a dope fiend daze... other voices boorishly buzz a cackle cacophony. At best they are the background noise of your existence.

bit players (endless layers) as she comes my way

Your body pixilates in an ******* focus, it bends, projects all else slowly into your frame, the deja vu of ****** tunnel vision. I struggle to speak as I stand before you.

All others condemned, reduced to extras in a celluloid daydream
they are arrayed for your adornment  
set pieces that surround you in the cinema that is your daily divine saunter

body sacramental (those around you incidental) as she walks away

The subtext, the reflex, the ambivalent, ambient lighting
means nothing without you

my arc, my carnal ******,
any other epilogue is dystopian

cdh
Vicki Kralapp May 2013
Sitting in a café on a Saturday afternoon,
softly humming to the singing and guitars.
My mind sails back to thought of you from years gone by too fast,
while songs of love come floating from afar.

Like memories gleaned sweat by time these songs bring more than tears,
as chords of Harvest Moon come shining through.
The years we walked together now are more like far off rhymes,
but then what I wanted most was you.

Familiar are these old songs that are played and sung through time,
that I find myself just rockin' to the tune.
And I like to think these melodies will someday make us see,
all these songs will lead back to deja vu.

Deja vu, would you play my song again,
a song to make those memories never end?
A song to make those moments stay and take me back to yesterday,
a song of peace to help my heart to mend.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
cher Dec 2018
day through night, i face the same fate
my flesh inches closer to its expiry date.

a ****:
my mind is at its limit,
and my body; no longer mine.

each minute goes by, i pray to gods,
every holy name, those i've never heard of,
pray, pray with all my might -
choose a different girl to feast on tonight.

my face was stolen from a world of debris
to support a family i'll never again see
i sold myself, let me be bought,
for just two coins, a price of naught.

a customer.
i tell myself,
don't open your eyes,
don't move a muscle.

hands on my thighs - deja vu
my body to her is just revenue.

memories of every night still live within my body - a bookmark telling me i'll never be my own. a constant image of flesh flickers behind my eyelids every time i close my eyes.

give me my body back.
i'm working on my gcse drama devised piece and it's being recorded in two days - ours is on slavery and i got the *** trade as my scene. we gotta write monologues, so i decided to write mine as a poem because of course i did.
Ian Aug 2018
That morning, when I awoke, I had not a clue,
That the things you claimed you'd never do,
Were exactly what my day was leading too,
Though, as we shared that bed, my alarm was right on cue,
And as I got up, I noticed I smelled like you.

I told my best friend about that night,
That for once, holding someone was comforting, felt right,
Laying there, with you clinging to me so tight,
Was the first time intimacy didn't come with a shock of fright.

But, of course, the truth comes out,
Stunned, standing, the visage of a lout,
So lost in all that's come about.

That afternoon, when I got home, what was I to do?
So many thoughts, so many feelings to get through,
I turned on the shower, watching the dancing water spew,
And, just before the water touched me; deja vu,
I noticed that I smelled just like you.

This couldn't stand, and I scrub and washed till I felt alright,
Dirt, regret, and your scent wash away in the dim daylight
At last I didn't smell like that night,
And didn't reek of lack of foresight.

Now, I'm left with only an internal emotional bout,
Wondering if I can even shake this doubt,
To decide whether or not to keep you in, or out.
The Anybodies Jan 2017
hace falta papel
hace falta tinta
las letras brotan solas
hacen falta horas

          alma salvaje y nocturna
          merodeadora impaciente
          que niega entregarse
          a un Morfeo ausente

    tristeza que evoca al dolor
    que evoca al sufrimiento
    donde el osado se regodea
    al leer las palabras impresas
    no con tinta negra
    sino con lágrimas y sangre
    de un simple ser

                                                  no será la primera vez
                                                  que el osado se desvela
                                                  un dolor igual
                                                  al pago de su sacrificio
                                                  por entrever los sentimientos
                                                  del que también fue osado

          la noche nuestra musa
          misteriosa y atractiva
          como canto de sirena
          belleza de los mares

por siempre devota
mi alma a tu luna
antaña luz
a tu filosofía oscura

                                                  profeta­ milenaria
                                                  de adorno espectral
                                                  poema­ interminable
                                                  co­n descanso finito

    canción y plegaria
    llanto escrito
    llévate mi corazón
    y deja mi alma
    triste hasta el alba
Sjr1000 Apr 12
She lives this life
As if she had lived it before
Nothing surprises her
Nothing throws her off her stride.

Sure
she has places she goes to hide
In her mind
Dark.
The craving she keeps in the basement
Darker still.

She knows already
Our shadows are everywhere
Hiding in the walls.

She knows everything.

She walks in the redwoods
The canopy above
The ferns below
Green in the light
Dogs running all around
Putting out her arms
Palms up
And wondering
"Why?"
While her heart aches
For all the innocence
Inside.

Compassion
Encouragement
Enlightenment
The story's not written until the day we die.

The illusion of immortality
Makes us waste so much time

She already knew the end
She had walked this way before.
Elizabeth Zenk Aug 2018
~
I sit in front of my fractured mirror,
my eyes dripping like raindrops from the canopy above.
I didn’t want to know
Everything crumbles and my heart begins to *****.
I missed my chance.
To see and memorize the niceties of your stunning mind.
I missed your face, and your words, and your grace.
I watched as it all fell apart, my vision blurring and slurring
My teeth chattering, my fist pounding.
Deja vu I guess.
Snail trails caused by sorrow streak across my face.
My hands shake with confusion
I thought we were over him.
But she told me what you said.
She said you told them you missed me, and you fell in love last year.
Now I’m back to where we started.  
I love you
I miss you
You’re gone
~
I wrote this with fuzzy eyes covered by saddness.
It’s nothing but pure emotion.
C Dec 2018
Nights
Are
The
Worst

Miss
You
The
Most

Deja
Vu?
Was
I
H­ere
Before?

In
A
Sense
Yes.

You
Were
My
Dream.

Now

Thoughts
Of
You
Are
My
Nightmare

I….
Miss­
You….
26 April 2010
Bows N' Arrows Aug 2017
City lamps in clusters of concrete
On 18th and Sherman street
The cars pass by scanning me
Each unsound engine roaring
Darting pupils
I feel it on my externals
On my lips and phalanges
Intruding glances cascading over
my silhouette

Deja-vu-like resemblances,
strange
Sunken cheeks look bizarre
and blotchy as the socket drains
something toxic to the veins
that's permeated the future in an instant, like a comet,
encandescent and shimmering like a scale, the awareness fades

Like some dreary mirage
I remember those little band aids
Vintage carnival tickets
discarded on the scratchy ground..
Blue-violet bruises
The paradox of pleasure
A vague creature in
it's discomfort
sitting in defiance and
quivering my sentences

It reminded me of those
incandescent bugs that
smush into Chryslers
With a curled lip, bulging eyes
and ******* up tongue...
Antennaes intertwined like
Twizzlers
Making peace with all
that's stung as the
windshield wipers turn on
Some black tar-smack-oil-
******

My generation consists of
inheriting environmental
destruction and mal-parenting
Global warming. Animal extinction.
Polluting the oceans. Deforestation.
Biting shards off night-time to
suffice for the daily pangs
Shuffling the dregs of karma
to grow roots and vines all about the room

It's not Winter yet
Under this morning dew
I envision it in my mind
A crystal ball vision
contorting into smoke
I caught it in my breath
Catatonically hanging
A turtle with it's legs bending toward the sky
Searching for my tribe and a pulse
on this Earth in sentient souls
Butch Decatoria Dec 2018
I wonder how your birthday suit would taste
On Groundhogs Day

I'm curious how cool your touching hands
In our peppered moods?

And yet I think you're my favorite
Acquaintance and infliction

Upon the eyes' leisure,
When there I bite my tongue,

As timid as tangerine Suns slow to set,
Our silence still telling and wet...

I consider and call you friend
For you disperse the grey and heavy

The thunderheads of sadness
Replacing it with regalia and levity

So stylish your scintillation of conversations
Your body language like turquoise pools

Refreshing views and clear cuts through
The babble of the rabble not much to say

You must be from tomorrow's new
Breed of brutally honest and humorous

All other spewing hubris
But you must be from a stranger world

An alien place to be so you...
Yet like Summers, in the heat of our youth

The moments that Deja vu
And dream out loud our foggy recollection

The friends I have called true
Come and go like falling stars

But the brightest stay where they map the night
There you are so brilliant a far away sight

You must be a real friend, a guide and then
After we have spent all hours blindly high

Oh truest North, the ***** of your light,
Keep all the lonely ones in awe

The brightest hearts alight

Must be a friend, accompany me here
Then and since
In the dark...

No matter how far
Hark for thou art a shining
Star.

(In pitch darkness
A diamond made priceless
Thou art…)




Canvas and heaven...
Friend
Un gato *****
Robando almas
Como sombra bajo la litera
Fuma el gato *****
Saboteador de la suerte
Y llevándote a su cama
el gato ***** te acorrala
con su cola y sus garras
no deja en paz tu alma
algo la amenaza.

Un par de aceitunas
una ofrenda de la noche
te observa, te protege,
viaja con fantasmas
el gato ***** que te vigila
cuando tus sueños
se tornan astrales.
Laura Duran Sep 2018
Me, you
Deja vu
Once again, I fall for you
Rob Rutledge Mar 9
We are savage and we are cruel
And we know well what we do.
The imprints of sycophants
Echoes in blood red rooms.
The certainty of colour
Washed white and hung too soon.
A memory of light,
A bloom of deja vu.
Remembrance forgotten
Rewritten and then renewed.

Still we know not what we do.

The past is a sombre portrait,
Watercolour hung askew.
Dust and skin belie the truth
****** sure yet misconstrued.
In the maelstrom of intent
Will is broken 'for it is bent.
A promise spoken never meant.

Still we know not what we do.
Matthew Sutton Jul 2018
“You are not an artist.
You are not an artist.”

        What photos must I shoot
        How many cigarettes must I smoke

It is scary, but - I want to embody the things which destroy minds

Summer vibes feel like radiation

Use this alcohol to eradicate
The proposition - that I will be ‘okay’

My phone is on airplane mode

My ambition is floating - as a feather might -
Down to the depths

I cannot finish my own sentences

Bury my expectation with my religion

        And it’s funny
        Because I have resolved my mind to avoid romantic
        confrontation
        But, alas - I do day-dream
        Of a girl’s face & hair - for it has appeared in my dreams four
        times
        And I awake to Deja-Vu as her face appears in conscious
        frames
So…

I can imagine & I can see, but - they have become one in the same
Could not fantasize asking
Your hand in mine

Oh how I wish to cry
To sob in any light so long as you are in sight
Someone to reassure me, that - yes
“There is an end to the night.”

But I cannot. I suppress it in drives. In music videos. In writing. In self-speaking when I have only me to keep company.

Kick me off the team.
I do not know what I need.
If I could lead, as I once did.

But I have left concern in the refrigerator
With empty bottles & cans
Maybe I will return tomorrow to salvage the cents of my malleable integrity  
Won’t you reliquinish me of it ?

For I have sipped the poison of honesty
Regretfully it tastes like honey
Lustful - Fleeting - Sugary - Intoxicating
Temporal Fugue Dec 2018
I've seen the shadows
in things that're not there
not deep, but not shallow
not sane, and not fair

Like an admission
and a slight deja vu
supernatural premonitions
not false, but then again, not true

More it's a feeling
not so much what's been seen
mind and soul reeling
a nightmare?
reality?
or possibly
a dream?
No, not ghosts, something else :\
Can't put a finger on it though.....
Steve Parker Sep 2018
The Two-sided mirror

Reeling from your loss, realization sets in like rigor mortis
You're gone
You never could have loved me
I know I will carry the scars till the end of time
Ashamed, I turned my face away from the world
I should've seen this coming.  I should've read the signs

I never dreamed I could find love on a cliff so high
To soar with birds.  To drink of wispy clouds as they do
It was all a lie
I did not take flight with wings made of your warm embrace, as I had thought
          No
It was cruel intent that lifted me up, only to drop me hard
My bones and heart break as I land on the sky


I couldn't understand.  Couldn't understand what makes your blood so cold
I still can't
Grasping for reason like air under water
Only to breath lies to myself
So desperate for reason.  My heart would not accept what I already knew
Without words you told me everything:  “Run away from me.  I will hurt you”
I was starving for answers and you fed me lies. Taking you back again.  Deja Vu

Like watching someone else, disconnected my actions do not become me
I've grown weak
I've succumbed to the poisonous exposure of your smile.
Of your laugh
          of your tears
               of your past
                   of your pain
A sickness from which there is no cure.  I will recover, not
Are you afflicted as well?  Is it my lips you taste when he kisses you?  

Listening to our songs, I can't hear them over the keystrokes of this eulogy of our forgotten love.  
Like the loud deafening and sharp song of a smithy's hammer on an anvil made of my flesh, hate and strength are forged like cold steel, quenched in an empty bucket of dried tears
Just another faceless voice reaching out with hands made of electronic ink
Quietly searching in vein to be heard by the only eyes that can hear them in the vast digital vacuum of the internet.....
Jay Dayz Oct 2018
No te quejes
No te quejes
Cierra la boca
que no es la hora

No te quejes
No te quejes
A nadie le importa
lo que te ahorca

No te quejes
No te quejes
Queda en silencio
Deja el incendio

No te quejes
No te quejes
No tienes excusa
No hay excusa
WW1 WW2 Dubyadubya3

(turbosouthernfried president w/ coke)

Wheyfaced WW4torn Widows

(spittoon image son of a talkfool from a longline)

Wheyfaced WW5torn Widows Warturned ******

(of talkfools in thrall to doctor occident)

Pastweeping WW6 Widowswarturnedwhores Wankoff WW7lords

(& other arsekissingers bearing airwolfpackages)

Woldwaltzing Wommel's Wazzocky Wristwatch Won WW8

(americuntbearing dr.doom in blue jeans )

WW9 Or Was It UUUU10 The Greatest Trick The Dubya Ever Pulled

(o -cide! quanticide! qualiticide! shiacide! sunnicide! up-)

WW11 Wind In The Willows Vs. Where The Wild Things Are

(-cidedoom! heil ideolodger cop tours amereich a-)

Wu-Tang Wenceslas Did Look Out To Wot Who's At WW12 W/ Who

(pache putative peacekeepers like abyssscythe parents)

WW13 Was Just A War To Wardoff War W/ War War

(chickenshits in boeing beefy tattoo nutshell the kernel cinders outta kids)

Wappenschawhinging Wareeyores Didn't Wanna Die In WW14

(white orange agent phosphorus wadewilsoning youth thin asia)

Warmongs Watching 'Alien Vs. Primula' Awailable On Bluway Wideo & WMD

(marlborocountry obsidional smokers of nationalised foreign forests)

Winking Warcorresponsors Dent Cred, So Just Di'nt Wink ;-) ;-)

(& nationalised fruits of the forest, totemic nutritious trivia)

WW Deja Vu Tho' Not The Former U.S.O.S.N.O.V.C.R., It's US=A Ruskhour,

(of red silverbacks primalcommunists marxist gorillas)

Wider Conflagration © Money For Old Europe

(daisycutters are daisyraiseczars, whumping warmjungle socialism)

Wigga Wandwigger Wimey Wyke Wozzy Wabbo

(yezhovschina will seem but a user's shiner next to us-china)

Woon Waki Wytie Wago Wankee Winky Wap = WW²

(international tittletattle + ballistic backwatchers = WW Certificate K-PG)

Winstolf Churchhimmler Was Never Wamblecroft At Wetwork

(vietnumb flaggingpasschendaele crimeansnore agincorpse)

Japoleon Bombaport Was Never Wamblecroft At Waterbloodsports

(even peacetime's but a meta nam for emasculated rambofan)

Every Payback Waterfall Is An Elevator In The Overlook

(boer war doesn't even touch the -cides of mars)

WW15 Will Be a Pathetic War Like A Letting War

(baulklands falkans batarangofbaghdad wolf of farrow says)

WW16 Was Warpartypiece For Wemon Wonga & Whippingboyz

(her heard everyherdy's fist theory of history is **** homini lupus)

'Mandible-Mandible Is Better Than Edibleman-Edibleman' - Winnie Va Pour

(gestarpospangled gag, sicker heights pulitzers should police)

But Peace Might As Well Be A Passe Fist Whilst Atomihawkcurse

(or kowtow bone sow to god & his flags of infinite paedophagy)

Of Full Spectrum Dominance Hawk Their Heck, Raptor Values

(allah 'avin allaugh w/ muhammadman atta atta)

That Also Corrupt Chimurenga Avengers & Krishnikovs Of Kashmir

(great pair of babels going south to macadam nation)

Like Incidental Minks Of Warpelf Warped Elves

(both the infidel eagle & osama bingowing earners hereafterburners)

Of Badman Admin In Die Goldzahngrube Kanada

(amerikaput christicidal as avuncular ayatollah w/ nuke quran)

Because There Is Only 1 Character Der Wille Zur Macht

(because there is only 1 act der wille zur macht)

No Peacenik Liberators Manumit Umits Of Nen, Deliver Us Unto Valnillahalla

(tho' bestlaid treatises are but cross storks ferrying thugly ducklings)

Before World Bleeders, Shepnel Shrapherds Lead Us Into
Poppyfields Of Tommy K

(that boom into aggreswans like the kaolin coruscation)

Wotsitler GOP-zilla Tyranno Sapiens Vs. Iranosaurus Nex'

(ian botham wielding mjolnir might rhinestone, lilywhite hiroshima bobbles)

Making Tommies & Jerries Out Of Cowboys & Islums

(& the only 1s beyond the apollyon will be already bellyup cosmonauts)

Congeries Of Tom & Jerry & Tom & Jerry & Tom & Jerry

& WW Tom & Jerry & WW Tom & Jerry & WW Tom & Jerry: bellicosmos

(peace is the uneventful unfull overness post-killallwillkillall)
Try Aug 2018
see the ski through my eye a gentle breeze in the night,
a calm that brings delight even when there are demons to fight,
my eye sight is filled with fright,
calm for some a riot for none,
acting like my loaded gun will i even get to see the sun rise,
when every day is just a re-run,
full knowledge of whats to come,
no power to change the outcome,
overwhelmed by deja vu every day is x2

                            ©Try
Bliss Dec 2018
Mann hi mann sochti hoon..
Ke kash tere aane jaane ka pta hota.
Toh phir mae tujhe rok kr kehti...
Tham ja, zara sun toh mujhe,
Aa chl aaj thoda ek doosre ko jante hai,
Samajhte hai, ke har badalte mausam mae tu
itna khoobsurat kese ban jata hai?
Zara samjha toh, kese tere aane se kisi ki zindagi khushaal aur kisi ki khamosh ** jati hai?
Aey waqt chal aaj thodi si guftagoo krte hai.
Kuch sawal jawab krte hai.
Aey waqt zara aaj do pal mujhe bhi deja.
Kuch tu mujhe sunata ja aur kuch mujhe sunta ja..!!
So Lets plan a date?
Just you (time) and me
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