"demised" poems
Small town,
starry night,
the playback of old times on vinyl,
small town had our dreams,
osiers standing silently,
along the causeway,
seeing shadows of days gone by,
against the wind,
memories of the small town,
bright and luminous like pearls,
small town has changed,
dreamers no longer dreaming,
laughter and tears demised,
and became our own treasures,
walking in this city,
you can go back to a lot of places,
but you can’t ever go back,
to the days of yore,
of the small town.
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 10:24 AM UTC
There once was a black man... Old at heart, he fought verbally and accordingly with bold words, which abbreviated and arbitrated great art! He spoke of activism. Not just racial, and economic racism. He fought against demonic injustices for you, yes, made me see. He stood for principles of non-violence. Acknowledged corrupt government
mileage, European knowledge and college. A philosopher, teacher
and preacher as well as a civil rights leader. When he spoke his words of fire indeed chiseled and inspired. Causing some to conspire and also perspire! Born January 15th 1929 in Atlanta, Georgia. Named in honor of the German protestant Martin Luther. Bachelor of Arts
degree in sociology. Making a mark in doctoral studies, systematic theology. June 5th 1955 This King married Corretta Scott in Heiberger,
Alabama for many to see. Proceeding with four children: Yolanda, Martin Luther the 3rd to be! Dexter Scott and Bernice to increase the peace. Despite the European police, the movements and stressed
protests, the silence, ****** and racial violence. The segregation and interrogations in force, instead of integration of course. Black mishaps, lack of differences in relapse perhaps! Plagiarized and slandered, demised by some of the wise. Accused of communistic ties. Blinded
by others’ eyes and of our world’s twisted lies. Montgomery, Georgia
bus boycott, 1955 was the year. However, forever in disguise, our fear of tears was apparently adhered. From here to near, also all those dear. Mere letters he wrote, from Birmingham jail I quote! From the slums, some of sums, hail and prevail! A creation prevailing into a deriving and thriving nation. Mr. King’s vision of a dream, mission,
opposition, optimism and truism, on our wars, welfare and more. I suppose this sounds honest and fair. Mr. King’s theories and worries in emotionalism, evangelism, humanitarianism, racism and socialism. Nobel Peace Prize won in 1964. Regretfully, you may have heard of this before. Government conspiracies and indecencies. Assassination
and discrimination, allegedly, by James Earl Ray. On April 4th, I
almost choke, because for him, his blood did soak. Some thought this **** was a thrill or forced by will. Others still procrastinate in hate! However, forever Martin Luther King was and still is one of the late greats.
Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 12:53 PM UTC
ARTERY CONFESSION.
_Her love to me is like moon light, on a starry night._
As rising sun at dhawn. Like vine planted on his heart's yard. _which he ought to water to flowery_ _And fruitage._
his love for her is as deep as the dept of an ocean, _with the fishes abiding therein,_ _as stars, moon,_ and the sun adhered to the sky, it never
departed away from her side.
_his love to her can simply easily be compared to_ _GOD's towards mankind._
So he confessed and rendered his heart to her. _Like a teeming downpour upon earthen soften, it surface._
so her love compassed his heart comforting, _like pabulum to mind._
As light rays to eye sight. His love for her is reality only can be told in tale of their love story,
_gory to glory._ _He so_
Much love her and
really ready,
_in for her, fell in the water._
Lost and found with her for ever. _He wish he could wash her feet wilt the waters of his soul, cleansing her heart._
because he see her heart compatible to his.
_Remembered old days of midnight calls, they never used to give sleep to their eyes._ While talk through night, dusk till dawn,
_Remembered promises and all the pain they both had gone through heaven and hell._
*Never forgot the only first day he felt the fullness of her ******* _how sooth her heart. Tongue on tongue, mouthy pleasure._
His hands on her curves. Briskly remembered she _told him that after her_
momma he be next to her.
_She call him dad he call her Mami._ Before she demised his mama used to asked about his lady. His homies do too.
_His young blood can't either forget her memories,_
last night he was asked about her, oh sweetness
_is all about thee._ _Can't forget_
her, _he always craves_ her. All he ever wanted and desires are all found in her, his boo. _He truly loves her because he knew she'd make a good mother,_
Hope she'd understand if he change sometimes just only because he never own everythang as his. _So remember he always told her_
that he will always be there for her as time,
_even in the world after here._ _Her love is so good to him_
She has the key to his heart.
_reminisce she told him she'd_
_rather die for him than sleeping at someone else side._
She's his inspiration like a transportation, his motivation only she can help build his cloud nation. _His aspiration_
all is found in her, _all in ONE no one else but she._
She source the past time joy and still the reason _for today's and the hope_
of tomorrow's glee.
Sacrifice his love for her because he believes in future with her, she's his destiny his fate mate his ruth, his batsheba,
_His mary, his eve and soulmate._
#c9_fm
Feb 9, 2021
Feb 9, 2021 at 4:26 AM UTC
" Sometimes I wonder,
Why we humans drool over petty things,
Live in this world...
without knowing the cause of our own existence,
without knowing the roles that we adorn?
I remember feeding an amusing thought of mine
as I was going to sleep,
laying on my bed and observing the ceiling fan...
*What if the world we live in really doesn't exist,
what if we all are just an imagination,
just a thought
In the god's mind?
Maybe when he forgets one of us,
the curtain of life falls
and than we say that the person has demised??
Maybe when the so called* Judgement Day...
*shall falleth upon us,
all the good souls shall be given birth,
from god's imaginative world,
into a new Utopian world...
and all the remaining ones,
shall be nothing more,
than lost memories...*
Indeed a scary thought of mine,
but it certainly fed my curiosity "
© OutcastDreamer
Aug 2, 2015
Aug 2, 2015 at 12:22 PM UTC
getting old
who wants it
like a slap in the mouth you see
cosmetic overhall
cream for this
cream for that
something to stop that fat
southern hemisphere
it draws near
pump them up
nip and tuck
cellulites a blighter
liposuction leaves you lighter
dreaded age
no more centre stage
liver spots confirm the rot
............................................
hang on though
is it so bad
the issue to impress
demised, no longer a drag
the rat race gone
no more out there on the block
competing with the rest
to attract the opposite ***
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 4:35 PM UTC
Mentally dismantled
Spiritually a bundled
Cranium tasseled
Failed attainment
Craze by the crowds
Oh how I feel demised
Trained by the master
Hidden intellect
Chosen few has heard
Chosen few has experienced
Life changing words
Brain is so superb
Tongue twisters is a love spot for the genuis that is her
She is her
Her is me
Her is you
Her is us
Her is many
Many of the intellects
Many of the power holders
Many of the strong
Many of her
Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 7:23 PM UTC
Timeless, shapeless and colourless
Yet I demised after your fading trail
Excruciatingly hallucinating of a dark veil
Sobbing, for my torment is painless.
Would I deserve you at any era?
Shame would keep me from you.
I could be Zeus, you could he Hera,
But such wasn't destiny’s brew.
How powerless are my sails
Against a windy, furious sea
Maybe trying a couple of ales
Will make me invite you for tea.
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 2:13 PM UTC
We poets write from our hearts
I tried to keep a dream alive
I was just being made a fool
My happiness may take a dive
The tears I wept left a pool.
To read the news i was surprised
Couldn't even tell me to my face
A love so strong had now demised
Someone else had filled my place.
Such a fool I was to have believed
I thought I'd found my true in you
Here I am blamed yet myself deceived
Good wishes my friend for you are true.
I shall shed a few more tears I dare say
Magic moments locked in distant memories
Maybe loves arrow will be true one day
But for now we will sit and tell our stories.
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 11:50 PM UTC
Tough times;
not because my cash is low
but because I enjoy engulfing each bill in flames,
just to admire the glow.
Or maybe I like the sound of the flame,
the red crackle on beat red coals.
It could be out of fear from the metaphorical screams,
bellowing from government buildings,
as the flame crashes down on their precious dreams.
Maybe it's just the light the death of each dollar provides
since everything else is deep, dark and demised.
Like the night time sky,
your lies,
even the finger that runs down your unfaithful thigh.
Everything. Dark and incomplete.
like the singed hole on green George Washington's upper left cheek.
But the real reason I like to watch money bake,
because it shows even greatest things in life must hit a new low,
and step up to the stake.
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 7:51 PM UTC
In the darkness of this moon
Mist it rises
This carcass looms.
Wakened eyes, where is my mind?
Cheery lies vocalized to soon.
But still I rise,
Dead feet do drag
And weathered hands do light this ***
Descending down the dreary land
I cross the fog with teary-gag
But on the line where eyes discern
The atmosphere meets horizon's turn
Another cycle gone and burned,
Something new comes, pondered, learned.
I lose the weight
My shoulders burdened
I feel them lift up off my soul
One after other,
My body's limbs
Do dissipate with ***** winds
When sun does choose to show it's face
My own is gone,
My soul's in place
To you my friend,
With hopes demised:
Happiness
Is not a race.
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 2:26 PM UTC
*upon being invited to add to a collection here called Brokenness
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He he
** **
Ha ha
it has been awhile
that I recv'd an invitation
to add to anything
or join a club,
just like Groucho (Marx)
worth being invited to...
but when yours arrived,
I chuckled and jived,
for this broken biz
be an area of expertise,
about which I gladly can opine,
since most of which I contact,
is inevitably in that state demised,
marriage, children and other trifles
so to the topic at hand, let say but this,
if not eloquently, then perhaps,
gravely, for that is where the
broken pieces oft call home
or cemetarily. a final resting place...
perhaps you were unaware,
there are 449 poems in attendance,
where the word brokenness
doth appear
in this sanctuary of broken children
and adults too,
easy discovered in the memory of
Hello Poetry
but this will not be, I hope, the
four hundred and fiftieth
as I decided to nomenclature this oeuvre
as Brokeness, with but a single N,
since a good N
can be hard to find,
why use two
when one will do?
if a faithful ecrivant thee be,
you won't be shocked that there are
so many Brokenness in this world,
the dictionary doth recognize its multiplicity
as a word legit, accepting as a plurality*
brokennesses!
which is a whole lot of broke
so let us poets to the process repair,
with a tikkun here, a tikkun there,
a tikkun everywhere
so that the healing never ends
and that someday we will delete
all words of humanity in disrepair,
let the broken be the unbroken,
and let's all say amen
and get started...
Ogdiddynash
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 1:44 PM UTC
Drunken guides pour
Through the crowd
Like hunters to prey.
Their eyes are bloodshot,
but narrowed from the haze.
There is no smirk here,
Just a grin to hide the lies.
Walk with her through the desert,
and knowingly be demised.
She touches you with
Sweet lips.
Her stain evident on the cusp
of your tongue.
Temptation stopping
to linger,
Her smoke coursing
through your lungs.
I walk with her through
the desert,
her fire being my sun.
She guides me with green eyes
and open lips,
without her,
I would be shun.
Mar 8, 2010
Mar 8, 2010 at 11:04 AM UTC
Roses once red,
Are now good and now dead,
Violets once blue,
No gone, left and rue,
My garden is empty,
No poor and unseen,
My garden once temptly,
Now worn and obscene,
Winters cold,
Did its damage,
Flowers once bold,
The chill did not manage,
My roses they bleed,
And my violets they’ve wept,
My garden by uncared,
And now by unkept,
My garden demolished,
By colds misdeed undone,
And unpolished.
Fruits will never bare,
Because of lack of care.
My flowers they’re gone,
Demised by weeds of wrong,
My garden it’s life,
Damaged by life’s strife,
My garden of Body,
My garden of mind,
My garden it bleeds of a past unkind,
My garden of soul,
My garden of me,
This garden is dead yet you cannot see,
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 6:05 AM UTC
But then i no longer cried,
For the pain inside me had died,
I lay there paralyzed,
Already demised..
But you didn't stop,
Even after seeing me dead,
Now no longer did I ever cry for you,
When you left me on the staircase,
Below the sky, blue,
Forgetting each and everything,
I ever did for you....
Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 11:23 AM UTC
Her eyes,
Oh, what can I say,
Like diamonds, like stars,
Full of life and sway,
Like a golden stream,
With glisning water,
Like little raindrops that scatter,
Those lines inside your eyes,
Don't know the scientific reason for them,
I just know,they were made to represent,
Nothing but yourself,
And myself in them
Her eyes make me go crazy!
makes me jump and touch the sky!
please,if being in love with you makes me psyco,
Then be that,I don't care!
Her eyes,oh,
Her eyes,
Can't describe,
Or put in words,
How mad,
How mental,
They do make me well!
But seeing tears in those eyes,
Are not as good as watching those on roses,
'Cause the rain's not the reason,
That makes her smile,
But just a slight sight of ,
Me, you and I....
Your eyes,
oh,those sparkling things,
Could never be demised,
'Cause those eyes,
yes those little things,
Are those,
Who make me smile,,,,......
Dec 10, 2012
Dec 10, 2012 at 1:31 PM UTC
Seize the day, because it might be your last,
Leave the problems, drama, and fights in the past.
You can cry later, but now you should laugh,
You never know when you’ll see your life in a flash.
And when your whole life flashes before your eyes,
That same time and moment that you realize,
That your days have demised and you’re about to die,
Please don’t act surprised, and please don’t ask why.
People don’t realize that we’re on borrowed time,
Living there lives like tomorrow never dies.
Believing that their lives, are actually their lives,
And in there lies, what appears a clever lie.
But if our lives, were actually our lives,
Wouldn’t we be able to choose when it was our time.
Instead your destiny is undefined,
And you’re destined to be unalive.
Eternity is the enemy of mortality,
So internally we wish for immortality.
But even immortality is reached from immorality,
Unless you happen to become a nature’s casualty,
Only if it happens naturally,
Can your passage be in existence, your mortal inexistence,
But you’ll exist in the Heavens you enlist in.
Then, and only then, can you live life at ease,
The days you no longer will have to seize,
On the set day you leave,
Before death is seen,
The concept of “days” you leave.
Does this mean that after life
Time will lose meaning?
Will life after death leave us with nothing to believe in?
Will we still try to seize the day
When we become immortal beings?
Oct 3, 2010
Oct 3, 2010 at 1:28 PM UTC
imagine
how good it would feel to give up on society
no longer follow the bis rules and regulations the human race has demised
leave all the judgement and hate behind and retreat
to an island in the middle of the pacific
or the dead center of the amazon
just you, a loved one and a lifetimes worth of art supplies
youd no longer have to suffice in this demented world
where guilty rapists lies are believed and they are let free to walk the streets
where the police that are quote unquote there to protect us
**** the innocent and abuse materialistic a badge now gives them
a world where every country is divided by color and ruled by one person that is given so much power
this leaves me speechless as why one man can have so much influence even though he is no better than the rest of us
im getting carried away in modern days many flaws
anyway its a nice thought
a peaceful life ha
a thought thats all itll ever be
Sep 7, 2017
Sep 7, 2017 at 4:40 AM UTC
Depths of Death Found in Drowning
September 21, 2013
Night will fall,
and the darkness of it all,
will wash my woes away a woah-oh.
The reckoning of wreck has been beckoning to be bet.
Find the ship that is destined to fail,
it set sail, on a demised trail.
When alone at night,
found lost without sight,
count the stars, for they are numbered.
They speak of one's destiny,
to meet morning slumbered.
It's been heard before,
the shark's shrill thrill,
yet still,
plunge into the depths of death.
A shrinking, sinking, step,
leading to a sleep deeper than can be dreamt.
Sweeping struggle,
breathing in bursts of bubbles,
drowning in what should be water.
But who would will,
that power to ****
to what is in nature,
able to sit so still and serene?
See the scene,
picturesque - not obscene,
with a shiny gleam on the surface.
What does it mean?
To hold beauty never seen,
unless drowned in the dark of night fall.
Tell me,
What does it mean?
To find the meaning of beauty,
in the death of it all?
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 8:16 PM UTC
His body was left rigid,
In the snow,
All alone.
Truth be told,
He had a criminal mind,
And a half hearted smile...
It was just a guess that you were depressed,
That with each caress,
Your morbid mind would digest.
But being all alone,
Is really no way to go,
As you so surely demised.
Why did you try fighting it alone?
With me we could have postponed
The unearthly groan
Of what lived bellow...
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 12:06 AM UTC
my fingers break when I write this
my mind cracks like the grounds of a death filled earthquake
my lives are petrified
and the thoughts who are civilans perish
under the lava of life that erupts itself
with contagious fumes in my mind
I came close to something that
could have well rolled of my tongue so nicely
as perfect
now Im far away
and I might always be
burden places itself on my side
smiling at me always
like a dimmed creature
horror film based
1940's
always next to me
pain stakingly
one day It will come to our hault
our exit
our departure
and Im on my way
with a staggering pulse
and wavering feet
the only other paths on my side
are hell, disguised
demised
I press my finger against my temple
and wished for nothing but annihalation of thought
and the smallest breathe of fresh air
your image brings both
and Im a ghost I feel as though sometimes
I might bury myself in the clouds forever
cause they are pale and soft
and this reality is full of needles and thorns
my eyes fall out of my body
as my hearts is watching them discreetly like infatuated murderers
and mourns
Oct 31, 2010
Oct 31, 2010 at 9:17 AM UTC
Sunset I’m still here.
You see me still standing.
You see me still faithful.
You see me still hopeful.
And sunset I’m still here.
You witnessed my falls.
You witnessed my heartbreak.
You witnessed my demised.
But sunset I’m still here,
I promised you with every fiber.
I promised you with each breathe.
I promised you with every heart beat.
And sunset I’m still here,
Alive, my spirit renewed,
Alive, my will stronger,
Alive, my heart kinder.
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 11:20 AM UTC
Let thy be to the marriage with maiden
Made thy life not seek of any other
Living a contrast of sweetness and pain
Thus be a mother with sons and daughters.
Constrict verdicts of every known evil
Construe what is bright inside with thyself
Let not both severed nor darkness prevail
Souls utterly preserved within the shelf.
Constrained thy fire walled our time not to flame
Have no bashful faces distorts to frown
This mesmerizing life portraited frame
Someday I and thee will be out of town.
Let thy love be demised to the marriage
Thus faith be lived until our dying days.
May 2, 2019
May 2, 2019 at 10:05 PM UTC
my fingers break when I write this
my mind cracks like the grounds of a death filled earthquake
my lives are petrified
and the thoughts who are civilans perish
under the lava of life that erupts itself
with contagious fumes in my mind
I came close to something that
could have well rolled off my tongue so nicely
as perfect
now Im far away
and I might always be
burden places itself on my side
smiling at me always
like a dimmed creature
horror film based
1940's
always next to me
pain stakingly
one day It will come to our hault
our exit
our departure
and Im on my way
with a staggering pulse
and wavering feet
the only other paths on my side
are hell, disguised
demised
I press my finger against my temple
and wished for nothing but annihalation of thought
and the smallest breathe of fresh air
your image brings both
and Im a ghost I feel as though sometimes
I might bury myself in the clouds forever
cause they are pale and soft
and this reality is full of needles and thorns
my eyes fall out of my body
as my hearts is watching them discreetly and mourns
Nov 1, 2010
Nov 1, 2010 at 6:49 PM UTC