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"deplete" poems
Vaginas are all shapes & sizes Not many vary from the fold there are very few surprises Seems nature's gone & set it's mould But the ****** has such allure A pull on man to lesbian alike A calling so strong and pure Enough to turn a straight girl **** Is it the promise of warmth & touch A memory of a time inside The scent of our matriarch's crotch Draws us to those legs held wide? It was nature's way of ensuring The human race continues on So that our presence here's enduring Never ceasing. On & on Instinct has been subject to a ploy To harbour this hypnotic power Sell it back, a high class toy Put to work this delicate flower Control the basic urge of man The essential need to drink & eat Once you create the ultimate fan Then the surplus you do deplete Until it feels that a simple look Purchased, from a few feet away Is as good as one hard **** Copulation they do delay And so vaginas became a mystery Sold back to all who do desire Remember to look back in history The vaginas are for more than hire
0
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 3:14 PM UTC
******
From the ashes I descend, Rising among the flames, As shades of red. Orange and yellow, Blend within the explosion, Of my rebirth, Claiming my life force once more. My deep hazel eyes, Drenched in golden brown, Surrounded by a burst of jade, Speckled with dark green, Reveal my humility, Compassion and genuine kindness, Allowing you to behold, The window to my soul. The vessel, Containing my spirit, Conflicts with the feminine demeanor, Exposing sincerity, Comforting hands of a care-giver, The voice of loyalty, Gently escaping lips, Tears of empathy, Seeping with understanding, Kisses of affection, As soft spoken words, Depict desires, Hopes and the warmth, Of pure love. Mystery envelops my origin, Becoming a mystical being, With the ability to heal, The potential to inspire, Living proof of an alleged myth, Yielding in protection, As my plethora of feathers, Shield the individuals I adore, From darkness, Attempting to swallow the light, We yearn to discover. Blind Thoughts of denial, Shall forsake your eyes, If you pass judgment, Upon me, For my cloak of skin, Concealing my true beauty. As a Phoenix, I refuse to watch, The children of diversity, Suffer degradation, Living in fear of discrimination, Stifling the right to love another, To dress in garments, That correlate the body with the mind. I shall rage to cease, The hands of violence leaving bruises, Ignorance stripping, Breaths of air from a pair of lungs, As homophobia, Transphobia, and intolerance, Deplete individuality from a heart, Deserving liberty, The pursuit of happiness, A chance to survive. The Earth returns my soul, To reap the love, Concealed in assumptions, And sow acceptance into, The fields of society, As I continue, To soar into a cerulean sky.
0
Jul 15, 2012
Jul 15, 2012 at 2:45 PM UTC
Rise of the Phoenix
From the ashes I descend, Rising among the flames, As shades of red. Orange and yellow, Blend within the explosion, Of my rebirth, Claiming my life force once more. My deep hazel eyes, Drenched in golden brown, Surrounded by a burst of jade, Speckled with dark green, Reveal my humility, Compassion and genuine kindness, Allowing you to behold, The window to my soul. The vessel, Containing my spirit, Conflicts with the feminine demeanor, Exposing sincerity, Comforting hands of a care-giver, The voice of loyalty, Gently escaping lips, Tears of empathy, Seeping with understanding, Kisses of affection, As soft spoken words, Depict desires, Hopes and the warmth, Of pure love. Mystery envelops my origin, Becoming a mystical being, With the ability to heal, The potential to inspire, Living proof of an alleged myth, Yielding in protection, As my plethora of feathers, Shield the individuals I adore, From darkness, Attempting to swallow the light, We yearn to discover. Blind Thoughts of denial, Shall forsake your eyes, If you pass judgment, Upon me, For my cloak of skin, Concealing my true beauty. As a Phoenix, I refuse to watch, The children of diversity, Suffer degradation, Living in fear of discrimination, Stifling the right to love another, To dress in garments, That correlate the body with the mind. I shall rage to cease, The hands of violence leaving bruises, Ignorance stripping, Breaths of air from a pair of lungs, As homophobia, Transphobia, and intolerance, Deplete individuality from a heart, Deserving liberty, The pursuit of happiness, A chance to survive. The Earth returns my soul, To reap the love, Concealed in assumptions, And sow acceptance into, The fields of society, As I continue, To soar into a cerulean sky.
Continue reading...
71
They live in huge houses, drive fancy cars Most know poverty only secondhand So how can they fix a problem... They don't really understand Given the role of a leader However, I'm convinced they are confused We live in worlds too far apart... How can they lead with similar views Their children go to private schools Only the finest and elite Their children will never need public education So they allow funding to deplete Their children will succeed I believe it's part of their plan To ensure that high society Will forever lead the average man The evidence is no secret They don't seem to care if we agree They know they hold this power So it doesn't matter if we see Our taxes keep going up Unemployment is at an all time high Life keeps getting harder for those just scrapping by The people making these decisions Of course they find it easy enough to do They're not deciding for themselves They decide for me and you The truth of the matter is... This country is ruled by hypocrisy They disguise this, however, very cleverly Today it's what we know as Democracy "A political government run by 'The People' through 'Selected' officials"... Democracy defined Compare it to the way it was truly designed Sure we get to 'select the official' But the one thing they seem to neglect They pick the people Many, that corruptive politics help select
0
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 5:11 PM UTC
The Government (Part 2)
Though altercations of a secessionist sound stern, Their minds are stuck and never learn. Through a disabled rebellion their built, Words designed to deplete one's self are spilt. Although it's said consummation executes in the leaning vice of the secessionist, The desecration becomes the birth of the segregationist. The segregation of closed mindedness with those of the voice. The voice has sculpted our worlds obedience choice by choice. The voice has seen demons at their best and angels at their worst, There is a reason why this world hasn't burst. You see, our world is seen through a lens, This lens doesn't defy our worth and script the uncleansed. It simply sets a standard for the closed minded to follow, The voice, doesn't have a standard to follow, this voice makes the lens for those left to follow tomorrow. -Joseph B Schneider
0
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 7:06 PM UTC
The Voice
an intergalactic being of the static trying not to panic in the sporadic antics of a frantic romantic manic freak bobbing to the beat of drones and sheep as the storms seep from the more discrete holes in my heart render me obsolete and deplete me from afar weave me the dreams of delicate surrender cleave me at the seams in vicious splendor deceive me in the memes of malicious pretenders and take me to never was tell me of the ridiculous the insidious the belligerence of thugs the deliverance of slugs the hideous wrap me in a rug with no love ***** drugs and a mean mug peacefully pitiful
0
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 4:09 PM UTC
Bleak
Do you promise? Do I have to promise? Why can’t you just promise me? Why can’t I promise you? Compounding compromise after compromise Plunge unto the same mold and lose our eyes Lose our ability to realize I drift to you because you aren’t me You don’t complete me but you don’t deplete me After-surge, recharge Electricity in your touch A culmination of all you’ve ever felt, been through And I fall harder through the floorboards of my arrogance When your fingers fuse with the heartstrings Reminding me without words You’re easy to move around and I swim through you Converge and compromise God, I think your fingers should melt me down Oh, they make some of my favorite sounds Fusing with the heartstrings Reminding me without words That feeling is you Do you promise I can have it too? Compounding compromise after compromise We pour unto the same mold And lose our eyes We didn’t need them anyway I’m not me, you’re not even you Release myself into the wild and swallow you All we can be, drowning on the same wave Holding hands to stay in parallel motion Amidst all the commotion Without eyes I can say I wouldn’t want it any other way Converge and compromise with you
0
Aug 21, 2022
Aug 21, 2022 at 10:41 PM UTC
Converge and Compromise
"You were born to do this." I reminded myself as I sat there feeling encaged in a flurry of endless thought and emotion. "Why do I have to feel every aspect of every event of life, so deep?" I thought as I fought myself once again to simply pick up the pen and drain the overflow of despondency onto paper. "Breathe." The words, letters, verbs and thoughts continued to swirl in my ever rampantly unsettled abyss of ideation. Once I surrendered to the raging of the erupting of the soul..there was calm. It's likened to the deaf..taken away their ability to sign..The dancer with both feet removed. Had I no other pleasure but to expel grief, fervor and elation and form them into words to heal the shattering so entrenched..they appear unreachable..I'd beg to be buried with just a writing utensil and endless reams of freshly pressed paper. "Theres Light." I mouth that..as I continue to jot as if I were stitching my heart back together with this pen. Even though I'm within this seemingly grave like cave of aching..I can write. The beauty is in the creation..The ability to construct, like a carpenter..all that your heart desires with your own two hands..to simply Heal the paragraphs of life that were written badly, write over them or erase and rewrite..if only it were that easy. I don't aim to undo..I cannot. Just to poetically fabricate from this point on..allow the stumbles to happen and Love greater than thought fathomable. Surrender. To the page. Scribble it out, empty it onto line after line..and crawl atop..until the words fill the fragments and the ink stains your fingertips..Keep climbing upon the proverbial stacks of paper until the towers reach the aperture of the pit. Creating the mending of affliction, soothing the misery of the choking of words you cannot utter, but you can scratch them onto tablets to deplete the churning of the mind. Write. Write badly. Write as if in a mad race to the finish line, then start over again..Until the trails of Letters stretch so long..you could dance upon them for days. Then Breathe. Soak every word into your skin as if attempting to heal the afflictions.. then Become it.
0
Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 5:24 PM UTC
*The Voice of a Writer*
"You were born to do this." I reminded myself as I sat there feeling encaged in a flurry of endless thought and emotion. "Why do I have to feel every aspect of every event of life, so deep?" I thought as I fought myself once again to simply pick up the pen and drain the overflow of despondency onto paper. "Breathe." The words, letters, verbs and thoughts continued to swirl in my ever rampantly unsettled abyss of ideation. Once I surrendered to the raging of the erupting of the soul..there was calm. It's likened to the deaf..taken away their ability to sign..The dancer with both feet removed. Had I no other pleasure but to expel grief, fervor and elation and form them into words to heal the shattering so entrenched..they appear unreachable..I'd beg to be buried with just a writing utensil and endless reams of freshly pressed paper. "Theres Light." I mouth that..as I continue to jot as if I were stitching my heart back together with this pen. Even though I'm within this seemingly grave like cave of aching..I can write. The beauty is in the creation..The ability to construct, like a carpenter..all that your heart desires with your own two hands..to simply Heal the paragraphs of life that were written badly, write over them or erase and rewrite..if only it were that easy. I don't aim to undo..I cannot. Just to poetically fabricate from this point on..allow the stumbles to happen and Love greater than thought fathomable. Surrender. To the page. Scribble it out, empty it onto line after line..and crawl atop..until the words fill the fragments and the ink stains your fingertips..Keep climbing upon the proverbial stacks of paper until the towers reach the aperture of the pit. Creating the mending of affliction, soothing the misery of the choking of words you cannot utter, but you can scratch them onto tablets to deplete the churning of the mind. Write. Write badly. Write as if in a mad race to the finish line, then start over again..Until the trails of Letters stretch so long..you could dance upon them for days. Then Breathe. Soak every word into your skin as if attempting to heal the afflictions.. then Become it.
Continue reading...
23
I can feel her creeping back into my blood stream The anger, she's unravelling again The veins in my arm are pumping flames I thought I'd put out for good But you, you've ignited them Flicked your selfish lighter I'm on fire My chest constricting with your apathy Suffocating me And slowly I shrink Deplete Revert back into that girl Who could not control her affect Running on a constant adrenaline high Dear god I'm on fire and I'm praying for someone to put me out -lf-
0
Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 12:16 PM UTC
flashback
What's rendered me an impotent of life, while others live a life with vibrant hum? A curse that's hedged me by a wall of strife! While other lives with fine success are rife, my own's deplete, a curse has sure become what's rendered me an impotent of life! Through failure to provide I've lost a wife! Though I believe, there are those doubts in some, a curse that's hedged me by a wall of strife cannot exist, they say, I'm a midwife to all my troubles, I am who has done what's rendered me an impotent of life! Or maybe I've insulted a spaewife, who cast, to love and money make me dumb, a curse that's hedged me by a wall of strife. I've searched from North Recife to Tenerife, and failed to find a way to make undone what's rendered me an impotent of life, a curse that's hedged me by a wall of strife! (C)2012, Christos Rigakos
0
Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 6:27 PM UTC
What's rendered me an impotent of life?
You told me your stories, your past to present, but today lead us to another dimension. I wasn't there when you dealt with your demons, but now you have me so let's be fair. You told me you were an alcoholic drunk, with no self luck, ambition or love for life. I never judged you and understood your story. But now it's time to deplete your new mission. You left without a say You parted your lips to the bottled glass and began your sipping. Waited 8 hours wondering where you were, and it sure felt like forever. When you came back to me, you told me what happened, but you had a new demon inside you, growing like I never seen before. You hurt my feelings, because you lied to my face, but I guess that's what happens when you're dealing with the addictions you must really face. No more you said, You don't like the taste, your stomach hurts but now again you repeat the same mistakes from many years before. I try to help, frustrated I' am, sad I' am, crying I' am, but you do not care, you're emotionless, because to you, I' am the mean one. What is it I must do, you tell me to dump you, but meanwhile you tell me you love me, so what is it? confusion, haste, anger, malice, you left within a clip of air once again, because after our talk, you had to disappear from the truth, the bitter cold truth that bit your tongue like a scared cat in the middle of a dark alley way. I cannot forgive you, not yet, not now, prove yourself first to me and then we will see...
0
Jul 7, 2021
Jul 7, 2021 at 3:44 AM UTC
Drunken Fool #2 (Of Fool's Poet below)
I'm not sure you understand Just exactly how I work I'm not normal But then, who is? So let's put formality aside Have at me, uncertified surgeon! Let your knives peel back my skin! Use your blades to cut the organs So you'll see the stuff within In my heart is the place where I keep the love Protected from fiends who like vultures above Wouldst dare to steal my sacred store That will deplete forevermore My liver is a strange one, and yet You'd know what goes inside, I'd bet Therein lies all the things I hate Filtered from life and made to wait Inside the liver, oh so dense To keep the hate from the present tense To keep it all just locked away So I can try to be okay Then in my lungs is icy air That I breathed in, frozen, from your cold stare I thought you were jesting your eyes must be wrong But it turns out you meant it like that one Beatles' song Because I truly did not realize As I gazed deep into your eyes Into the soul that just days before You swore was mine, threw open doors Your eyes this time would shut me out What was this alienation about? But I guess you just snapped and all loving stopped You were still sane, but your toleration popped Which is totally fine and I have no problem knowing That these fractures and breaks had slowly been growing But I thought if we tended the garden of love And forgot all the issues I alluded above That we'd be fine and could just carrry on And though I still believed that you went and you're gone So again, I say unto you, uncertified surgeon! Cut deep into me and pull out my soul My heart's been ripped out, why not seal the deal *Tear out my soul with a smile and a flick And stitch me back up with the thread of past wrongs That each day I might look down and see That what was done was done by me*
0
Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 11:17 PM UTC
Cut me up, surgeon. Reveal my unabsolved sins
I'm not sure you understand Just exactly how I work I'm not normal But then, who is? So let's put formality aside Have at me, uncertified surgeon! Let your knives peel back my skin! Use your blades to cut the organs So you'll see the stuff within In my heart is the place where I keep the love Protected from fiends who like vultures above Wouldst dare to steal my sacred store That will deplete forevermore My liver is a strange one, and yet You'd know what goes inside, I'd bet Therein lies all the things I hate Filtered from life and made to wait Inside the liver, oh so dense To keep the hate from the present tense To keep it all just locked away So I can try to be okay Then in my lungs is icy air That I breathed in, frozen, from your cold stare I thought you were jesting your eyes must be wrong But it turns out you meant it like that one Beatles' song Because I truly did not realize As I gazed deep into your eyes Into the soul that just days before You swore was mine, threw open doors Your eyes this time would shut me out What was this alienation about? But I guess you just snapped and all loving stopped You were still sane, but your toleration popped Which is totally fine and I have no problem knowing That these fractures and breaks had slowly been growing But I thought if we tended the garden of love And forgot all the issues I alluded above That we'd be fine and could just carrry on And though I still believed that you went and you're gone So again, I say unto you, uncertified surgeon! Cut deep into me and pull out my soul My heart's been ripped out, why not seal the deal *Tear out my soul with a smile and a flick And stitch me back up with the thread of past wrongs That each day I might look down and see That what was done was done by me*
Continue reading...
46
Silence is still... A Rose thorn ****** into the darkness of the night. Ghosts and ghouls wander a yard of thee, ones who sheltered by the tree, 6ft yonder. A veil blows as the river flows, lost bride who can't find her ride. Chills of the midnight light ***** down unto your spine and you begin to run, but their following you, chasing you- and they won't give up until you're out of luck. Angels fall and lose their wings to grow again and recover their ancient beings of heaven's dream. Silence is still, Morning comes to greet you, and all the spirits of the night find a place to rest, until the next time, they may deplete you.
0
Sep 15, 2021
Sep 15, 2021 at 1:47 AM UTC
Silence is still
The hot boiled rice With brown gram curry The nutty smell of sesame Oil shrills in hurry Deployed on a thrice larger rounder plate For a boy's belly deplete. "Can't eat this much rice!" He shouts with a surprise. “You can do my son sure.", Her firm voice enssures The boys look measures. "The remainder you keep aside" Her remand saves  his pride. A monthly forty rupees Should not be pretty reason For a lodger's liberty to please Among two of her teen sons Than a welling spring of kindness A heart huge in roundness Larger than a stainless steel plate With a profuse heap of hot rice The smooth boiled brown pies Oiled with fragrance fleet. For how he fully did feat it? How she purely predict it? The stomach of a young one could hold The heap of love on a stainless steel mold.
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Dec 19, 2018
Dec 19, 2018 at 9:43 AM UTC
Hot boiled rice and brown gram curry
A golden white sunset Serenades the canyons With tasteful symphonies Crescendos of passion cry Elevated euphoria Oblivious be despair Sharp, yearning hunger Bellows creamy reveries Roaring taunting thrills This tigress teases in spirals Trickles of sweat lavish us Rhapsodies deplete us Eyes glisten odes of desire Her aroma illuminates the bed Neon vortex © 2012 (All rights reserved)
0
Mar 5, 2012
Mar 5, 2012 at 5:35 PM UTC
Neon Euphoria
A slum outside Paris A cardboard city thrives a place where no one has to pay the rent and electricity are purloined. is it impossible for middle -class folk to understand but the Roma thrive despite living by a city dump where you dump your trash wash your hand and are happy to live in a block of flats and house the rules. Now they want to get rid of this illegal city that cost nothing to run and need not tramlines. But they are not like us do not share our values, no they are not like us the do not deplete the world's resources and when the last car has stopped the Gypsies will as they always have done crossing the landscape with their children women and dogs carried pulled donkeys on ancient carts. And the man with a wristwatch and finery will offer them riches for a lift to better times.
0
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 3:38 AM UTC
a slum outside Paris
Who am I kidding? No subject is worth musing My mind is as blank as my sheet Emotions I am deplete Muse why you have to fail me? I’m just drifting like a bee Buzzing, humming, hmm My mind is staying mum Words are in jumble I can’t seem to figure Oh well, I might as well get up Put on my shoes, Fill my dancing cup Here I come, Zumba And stop this drama.
0
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 4:02 AM UTC
Dance, Let's Go!
Deep ridge, deplete elitists. Gold flows, layers, Dbridge, enriched tone, gates golden, heavenly. San Francisco, incomplete, switch robes. Can't be beat, Klitchschos, barking up the wrong tree, rich tones. Switch flows, risk it, rich tea, gifted. Unwritten, no gimmicks, smooth months, pale ale Guiness. Wrap presents, gift wrapped, signed sealed delivered. Dispatched, Spit fires, spit facts, die for the art. Mismatched. Calamity believe, nose dive. Kamikaze. No harder, fuel, nose powder. White knight in shing armour. 1688, Spanish Armada. Cut sharp like barber, bananas, permanent like markers, malleable like lava, pop like cava. Polova. Inscribe minds, magna carter. Magnificent bars, gold tales told. Slaves sold, reigns over. Cold shoulder, rainbow coloured mistakes, shoulders shudder, steer clear brother, execute rudder. Destitute, Scuppered. Destination under breath muttered. Spread like wildfire, butters, blindman, blackout, blinds again, shutters. Dunces, run **** Jump **** loose lips, loosing grip. Tip of the iceberg. Tip of the tongue, no nice words. Stigmata. Godfather, go harder for our forefathers. The time is ours.
0
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 4:35 AM UTC
Strictly Speaking Strictly Kamikaze
Unfortunately you are not for everyone. Not everyone will like you. Not everyone will love you regardless of what you do and how nice of a person you are. Not everyone will vibe with your energy and not everyone will understand and support you. Even though it is a bitter pill to swallow at times don't let it make a turmoil of your emotion and deplete your energy. Because your time and energy is so much more precious than exhausting yourself by shapeshifting to pander to the whims of others, moulding yourself to fit in every where and hence retaining no shape to call your own. Choose not to sacrifice your uniqueness to succumb buttering up their bread. To Be selective with your energy by politely waving them goodbye to stand by your values and lifestyles that most deeply resonate with you. Choose to take social risks regardless of the awkward glances and haughty whispers. Choose to not care of what others think to the point it stifles your ability to take risks and disrupt your social satisfaction. For there is nothing more liberating than to not waste your life allowing the faultfinders to dictate your actions. To seek to align your actions with your heart. To stand up for something, to do and believe what brings  content regardless of it being disliked. It is beautifully candor being your authentic self.
0
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 6:50 PM UTC
Prose: Unfortunately you are not for everyone
liturgies of lethargy lull their sleepy tongues, and run among my stumbling dreams towards the visceral setting sun keep the soldiers’ safeties off and order no retreat you can’t afford to chip your teeth for the price of being numb stay glassy eyed and leave your pride behind the backs of bus seats with notes, sharpie, and lies these men are not what they seem this world is a messed up dream while the elite claim to delete the supposed deadbeats as if they deplete the city’s concrete streets i want to scream they’re really the secret to keeping the working class alive in the heat to keep the coffee shops open on every street to keeping the cheap soda purchased at the indiscreetly laundering cover up convenience stores you would only see when you’re walking pavement breathing in the scent of cigarettes and pollen spores
0
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 5:50 AM UTC
beautiful spores