"deterred" poems
by Sara L Russell (2003)
"Who is this goddess?" Whispered the sun,
As the moon traversed the sky,
"This angel, silent as a nun,
This silver dragonfly?"
He moved in for a closer gaze,
His heart began to speed,
As through a misty, cloud-spun haze,
He watched the moon proceed;
Soft silver tresses graced her brow,
Her dress, mother-of-pearl,
billowed like sails on a dream-ship's prow,
or curved tsunami-swirl.
"Oh Lady Moon" murmured the sun,
"I burn, I swoon for you.
"Come let me kiss you, gentle one,
Before night passes through."
"Come languish in my warming arms,
To music of nightjars,
Come let me taste those subtle charms,
Dear lady of the stars."
"Ah, do not court frivolity"
He heard the moon reply.
"My purpose is to steer the sea
And yours to light the sky;"
"Why, if I languished here with you,
Tall ships would run aground,
And you must light each day anew
Or all nature confound."
The sun-god would not be deterred,
But kissed her trembling lips.
As they embraced, no sound was heard
Throughout the first eclipse;
Waves lay as mirrors where they kissed,
Until they drew away,
To drift back into heaven's mist,
As night melted to day.
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 6:24 AM UTC
I have come to know who I was meant to be, or at least I think I have
I have come to know how oppression works, at least I think I do
I have come to know what is ethical and what is not, or are my lines arbitrarily mapped
I have taken time to think about my life, but have I moved forward with it
I think of my past, my present, my future the map to my life unfolding
I see what I’ve done and what I hope to experience and I have come to realize something
I am part of an enormous painting, one that is committed
To ending oppression in all of its forms from patriarchy to racism and classism
I don’t know who I am but I know who I’ll be and I know where I will stand
I am one pixel, one dot, one stroke on this painting of ending all forms of oppression
And when I get discouraged, doubtful, and drab I cannot forget this painting
For it is not a portrait of me or of you it is a painting of all of us, a painting of freedom
I will keep fighting the fight for true equality, I will not be deterred
I will listen, I will love, I will chose to speak up
Because without all of us dots, us pixels, and strokes there would be no painting
And the beautiful idea that we can all achieve liberation is a reason to keep creating
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 11:32 AM UTC
let me tell you a story
about a girl
who ties brilliant little bows
onto boxes of poetry,
who puts prose in an envelope
and seals it with a kiss.
her walk is steady,
not at all deterred by the mind inside her skull:
a garden
constantly blooming
with white lilacs
and occasional weeds
(because you cannot always control the plants you grow),
but she waters them all the same.
and if you've ever stood in the eye of a hurricane,
or the vortex of a tornado,
then you know what it's like to see her tear herself apart
even if everyone else is screaming at her
to keep herself together.
but if you've ever seen a sunshower,
then you know what it's like to see her smile
and laugh
and pick up the pieces
with unyielding grace.
and god,
i live for those sunshowers.
(a.m.)
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 10:15 PM UTC
And I want to say how irrevocably sorry I am…
That I did not open myself to the thought that you were a beacon of beautiful.
I did not love you enough to share you.
I did not give you anything to stand on.
I created a world for you that deterred love,
To deter pain.
Fought happiness to remain unscathed of disappointment.
You have created a black hole of your heart,
Nothing for anyone to fall into,
Grab hold of…
You have created a wall of your heart,
That slows down anything that could give it meaning …
Nothing means anything unless it is in relation to something else, someone else.
It is what matters here,
What we leave here,
For someone else to hold on to…
And you have given just enough to leave remnants of …
someone almost here
Almost alive
Almost open,
But nothing to hold on to.
I am sorry.
You are saddened.
You have created nothing to leave here,
And I never gave you the hope to hold on, that someone might stay here
Share here
Think gold
Of the sun adorning your
Being.
I am sorry that I didn’t see it,
They could have
They would have …
It was up to me
To let you feel…
To share you
//An Apology To Myself…
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 12:58 PM UTC
Fallen from grace,
No longer do I sit high upon the pedestal
That you had once put me
No longer am I seen as idol or mentor
Nor wanted as provider or protector
But now looked upon as an outcast
And banished from your heart
Betrayed by the one who now blinds you
With a veil of lies and deceit
That weighs on your young fragile heart
With heavy words of animosity and abhorrence
You have been trapped in a malevolent web
Of hatred and retribution
Used as an unwitting pawn
In a game of emotional chess
Your words of respect and adoration
Have been replaced by venomous accusations
Of brutality and oppression
Taught to you by the one
Who now holds the chains that bind your heart
But I will not be vanquished or deterred
By these attempts to falsify or dilute my love for you
I will be strong in my resolve and true to myself
I will not let these misguided asseverations
Destroy my confidence in knowing
That my spirit is pure and that one day
You will be able to break free from your restraints
And uncover your eyes
So you can distinguish the truth from the lies
Until that day comes I shall be waiting
Ready to stand next to you
As opposed to being on that pedestal
And walk down a new road with you
As your friend and equal
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 9:52 AM UTC
The Sun, The Moon and Love
by Sara L Russell, 2003
"Who is this goddess?" whispered the sun,
As the moon traversed the sky,
"This angel, silent as a nun,
This silver dragonfly?"
He moved in for a closer gaze,
His heart began to speed,
As through a misty, cloud-spun haze,
He watched the moon proceed;
Soft silver tresses graced her brow,
Her dress, mother-of-pearl,
billowed like sails on a dream-ship's prow,
or curved tsunami-swirl.
"Oh Lady Moon" murmured the sun,
"I burn, I swoon for you.
"Come let me kiss you, gentle one,
Before night passes through."
"Come languish in my warming arms,
To music of nightjars,
Come let me taste those subtle charms,
Dear lady of the stars."
"Ah, do not court frivolity"
He heard the moon reply.
"My purpose is to steer the sea
And yours to light the sky;"
"Why, if I languished here with you,
Tall ships would run aground,
And you must light each day anew
Or all nature confound."
The sun-god would not be deterred,
But kissed her trembling lips.
As they embraced, no sound was heard
Throughout the first eclipse;
Waves lay as mirrors where they kissed,
Until they drew away,
To drift back into heaven's mist,
As night melted to day.
Sep 1, 2009
Sep 1, 2009 at 3:21 PM UTC
As the Paddles were used to stroke Against the Resistance of the Water, Thereby Attempting to insure their Progress, for the Ultimate Destination across the Mighty Ocean currents. Each stroke of the OARS met more resistance by the people manning the ship. The Sweat began to increase on each brow, But yet they Never gave up Their earnest Efforts. Even as the Winds increased and the Current became stronger,, They pressed on toward Their Destination. Each was Driven to Dig Deeper within themselves, For the Stroking had become Most Difficult!! But they were not Deterred... They knew that the Reception waiting for them on the other side, Would be worth every bit Of Effort. They Had to Endure!! As they kept their focus on the ultimate Goal,,They remained Undisturbed by the Leaks, Broken Oars, Strong Currents, Ever Increasing Winds AND Shouts of Dismay among the weak. The waves began to break over the Bows of the Boat, But the OARS DUG DEEPER and Deeper, Drawing them ever so Closer to the Shoreline that NOW came into view.. Having seen the Shoreline, A Great Surge of Energy came upon Each Person as they STROKED FORWARD. EACH person continued to the the Very End,, With that very Unusual Smile on his face and a special kind of light in in His Eye. *KNOWING FULL WELL How great the Ultimate Goal would BE. Are You prepared for the Proper use of "YOUR OARS" ??
Sep 2, 2010
Sep 2, 2010 at 5:00 AM UTC
I am a vast dichotomy of tasteful ideals.
I desire to dream the dreams most people deterred.
Paintbrushes touch canvases then lift
as if unsure if they should grace the world with their
beauty or hold back with chagrin.
Bodies burrow under blankets with
banned books instead of men.
I warm myself with beverages in a coffee mug on a
rainy day rather than
a body lying next to me.
Feb 27, 2016
Feb 27, 2016 at 12:58 AM UTC
The moments when I need you the most,
Are the ones that you never see.
The tears are silent as I tell you I'm alright,
My mind hushes the words that my heart desires to speak.
The sinister silence is my only companion,
No one is there to comfort me.
Alone in the dark, no peace in my empty world,
Salvation is the one I truly seek.
I stand as though I am strong,
The pain carefully hidden behind a mask.
You saw only what I allowed,
Then taken aback when the truth was spoken.
I laid myself open to you,
An unforeseen and immensely challenging task.
You took it for nothing and left me torn,
Now no knowledge remains of my emotions.
To hold on is painful and dangerous,
But to let go means going back on my word.
To stick by my promise, and stick by your side,
Will surely end with my broken heart.
Yet still I stay, I will give you all I have,
Until our hope becomes deterred.
I care enough to let it go,
As my heart is quietly ripped apart.
Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 5:04 PM UTC
Arrow upon arrow the stricken heart endured,
Strife and doom its woeful dream ensured.
Vile phantoms of creed with deception en route
Intended to thwart, unveil their wicked fruit.
Satan had withered our spirit's joy and flame,
And gathered an earthly militia; among those to blame.
A maze he encrypted, the heir's light yet unseen,
All prospects stolen, great efforts wiped clean.
Creative their mind twilight art they presented,
The Sphere's evil hosts all reflected and resented.
Lost was all hearing, faith and sight,
Misplaced sense of wonder and good sense in flight.
"I worship nothing!" His heir once preferred,
Such was the spirit in high degrees deterred.
"Paragons of justice, will I ever get to see
The day my misfortunes cease to be?
They shadow, entrap and starve my soul
Of love and joy and all control!
So tired I am, and tired I shall stay
If purpose here is merely to convey
No purpose at all, except for one:
To enslave the soul, casting punishment for fun.
My simple wish, then, is simply to impart
An end to this misery and to my sanctioned heart."
His despairing heir put in motion so
An idea most frightening, its telling shall forego...
Immerse in their demise, allow for stricken grief,
Then foresee the King's love and His graciousness in fleet.
He gathered around, with love He replaced
Satan and his minions conspiring in space;
The King broke off the heir's chains with great might,
He enlightened our spirit, who had not known the light.
The heir's desperate cries reached The King's vibrations,
He released the heir and nullified all limitations.
Profound divine wisdom our heir now espies;
Seeing The King's glory and the through destroyer's lies.
Great wisdom and revelation now fill this mended heart,
But it's a tale best left for another form of art...
Nov 20, 2016
Nov 20, 2016 at 11:35 PM UTC
The bartender says “It’s time to go”
“Because the moon has clamored high
And the sun was banished low.”
They were only speaking to me
I raised my glass, took a swig
belch, “i’m not even empty.”
They grab and toss it in a bin
The crash of glass, the waste of gin
Pollutes the air and that is when
They spoke. It was stern it was cold
“Get out right now! Before I leave
Your chest all gaped. Your chest all holed.”
“I’m a patron,yet you’ve decided
To push me out into the darkness
Lonesome and unguided”
“There are other bars out there,”
“No need to bother us, They said
I bit my tongue so as not to swear.
I made a choice, a simple choice
To sit and stay at the counter.
I cleared my throat and raised my voice:
“Do what you must. Let it occur,
But understand this, we will not be deterred.”
Jun 29, 2022
Jun 29, 2022 at 4:04 PM UTC
What a world that I live in.
Oh my, have the times changed.
The 21st century, so glorious and new.
Society's changing and it's not well to do.
Strange religious cults that spew arguments of hate.
Condemning our soldiers, government, and state.
Young teenagers lust without a care in the world.
Ignorant to the consequences that can be deterred.
They give birth to lovely children whom they cannot feed.
Too busy partying and fueling their own need.
The need to feel loved, or young, or alive.
Consumed by desire and refusing to shrive.
With the presence of drugs, crime is on the rise.
The stealing, the killing, the fooling, the lies.
******* ****** **** Crack.
Young women are ***** by addicts in packs.
The corruption of those who swore to protect,
The very same people that they choose to neglect.
The big name companies make the products we buy.
Thirsting for money until we all die.
Some are expensive, others are cheap.
But all the big companies call us, "the sheep".
We follow the trends and lust for what's new.
Believing what they say even if it's not true.
I'm young and I'm curious; an observer of life.
Feeling the love, and avoiding the strife.
What a world that I live in.
How ugly can life be?
Because in all these sad truths, I see a reflection of me.
Living in in this world; the new turn of the century.
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 1:23 AM UTC
vase.
your fingers;
so delicate
and fragile;
cool to the touch
as i allow
my fingertips
to trail down
the surface
of your smooth skin;
almost like porcelain
to the touch,
you calmed me,
just being in the same vicinity as you
made me suddenly feel
overcome with a sense
of serenity,
of peace
and because of this,
i couldn't get enough of you;
i had never in my life
seen anything i regarded
as remotely close to
as beautiful as you were,
causing me to place you
on the highest of pedestals,
an insurmountable target
with which i used
to compare
every other person;
and none of them did;
the way
you complemented a room
made me have to compliment you
for i have not once
come across something
so pure,
an untainted piece of art
that i fear
will leave my life
sooner than i'd like,
for,
by a stroke
of awful luck,
you'd been dropped
many a time
by undeserving people
that didn't recognize
the priceless masterpiece
they once had
to call their own,
leaving you
to pick up the shattered pieces of yourself
and put them all back together
and while there are scars,
permanent indents and grooves
endlessly reminiscing previous pain,
i am not deterred in my quest
to show the whole world
what a magnificent specimen you are.
and because of this,
i vow to cradle you,
to protect you,
and to love you;
and i'll hope, every week,
that you like the flowers
i got for you to hold
(they glimmer well
with the hint of your eyes)
when the light
from the early morning sun
illuminates every corner
of those daisies,
and more importantly,
the beautiful vaselike angel
caressing them
as if she's the only thing
keeping them from
the rest of the world;
the parts of reality
that don't notice,
that don't realize
the significance
and the simple beauty
inside of both of them;
which is why, darling
i understand
with your broken past
you fear falling apart
but i promise
to keep you safe
after all,
you're my work of heart.
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 4:08 PM UTC
I remember the days of raisin boxes and paperbacks,
when it felt like the worst thing in the world to be climbing barefoot up a mound of dirt in the rain because you wanted a friend.
I couldn’t watch movies, talk about cigarettes, or listen to operas,
but I was all right when I saw my mother pouring out my father’s bottles into the bushes.
I looked at the round tummy in the mirror and wondered if it was okay.
It wasn’t. I was eleven years old when I learned how to **** it in.
-
The first came in middle school. I had a dream that I kissed a boy while on an exercise machine.
It was real life when he took my hand in the backseat of his mother’s SUV. I closed my bedroom door and danced.
I still think of him when I hear that stupid song.
The second time, I was fourteen. I met a different boy who peeled away my skin as if he were unwrapping a Christmas present.
And the present? Just another pair of socks. Throw them in the drawer with the others. Shut it tight.
I’m still missing a lot of skin.
And then, there is you.
You know the story. Five, four, three, two, one, happy new year. I kissed you.
Remember when you noticed my wrists? Remember when you didn’t believe my excuses? Remember afterwards, when you pretended to forget all about it because you were scared, scared of the kinds of girls who hid secrets under their sleeves?
I went to all of your basketball games. I hate basketball. We watched movies that you projected onto your basement wall. Your attempts to disguise your impatience as admiration were poorly executed.
Maybe our first kiss shouldn’t have occurred in a count-down. It made everything else that happened feel that much more inevitable.
-
I take stock of myself. Three hearts, like an octopus, and too much blood. I am saving it, I am saving it for the person who offers me something other than the dusty space under the bed.
I never want to be like my mother, and there is a certain kind of power in this. The power of - of what, turning inward?
I am learning. I am learning to stop looking behind me in fear of pursuit. Let them come and let them drape me in meaningless velvet. I will not be deterred.
Look for me, up in the constellations. I am a passing comet; it’s impossible to predict if I am destined for destruction or for greatness.
I’ll wait at the sunset for the sound of your voice.
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 1:01 PM UTC
All it takes
to be a Mystic
is to be willing
to take mental risks
for a chance at greater understanding;
All it takes
to be a Mystic
is to delve into the Void,
come back with some new thing
and share that thing with the World;
All it takes
to be a Mystic
is to be sensitive
to one's own Path
reminding others of theirs;
All it takes
to be a Mystic
is to not be afraid
to defy your Time, peers and Culture
to bring forth the Divinity inherent in everything;
All it takes
to be a Mystic
is not not be deterred
by what you are told, but instead
to be guided by what you feel truest in yourself;
All it takes
to be a Mystic
is to be able to interpret
and take things symbolically,
*Mythos and Logos*, synesthetically creating a new mutual Reality;
All it takes
to be a Mystic
is to be willing and able
to be a Prism for the Divine;
to purify the Mirror of your being;
All it takes
to be a Mystic
is to be Artistic; Creative and Imaginative,
not that the Mystic must be an Artist, or that any Artist is a Mystic,
but that the Mystic is most naturally expressed through the various Artistic mediums;
To be an example for the masses
of just how the many are One
as One is truly the many
and thus All is Divine:
How the Universe itself
and all it's inhabitants
are the expressions
reflections and
manifestations
of the Godself;
An illusion,
A Dream:
**Godself
and self
is One.**
--
All is a Chapel of Sacred Mirrors
divided by Mind
into Self and Other,
but all is truly Godself:
Collective Unconscious and Personal Conscious,
Brahman and Ātman,
Godself and Self;
One in the same.
Tat tvam asi.
All it takes
to be a Mystic
is to be willing and able
to look inward and learn:
Godself and Self;
One in the Same.
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 3:21 AM UTC
She inspires me to raise my voice,
and let myself be heard
She inspires me to stand my ground,
to find my own place in this world
She inspires me to chase my dreams,
and never be deterred
She inspires me for every day,
she's as free as any bird
Mar 8, 2017
Mar 8, 2017 at 5:55 PM UTC
Loneliness is a shadowy hand
That reaches deep into the night,
Clutching our hearts, awakening our pain,
Reminding us of our wretched plight
(Without feeling the least bit contrite)
What a cruel master is Loneliness,
Each night it connives with the moon,
Urging her to mock and deride our pain,
While we cry, and our hearts lie in ruin
(To our pain and woe they're both immune)
Born of an evil, uncaring source
Loneliness has but one intent:
To deliver its pain and agony
To our hearts, causing endless torment
(Turning a deaf ear to our lament)
Loneliness can change a smiling face
To one filled with panic and fear;
Tearful eyes that once reflected Love
Tell Loneliness what it longs to hear:
(We have lost the one we held most dear)
But Loneliness has one fearless foe
That always ensures its defeat:
Love appears, rendering its deadly blow,
Knocking Loneliness right off its feet
(What other battle could be as sweet?)
Alas! Loneliness will not be deterred,
It knows the ways of Love are fleeting,
How patiently it waits in the shadows
To pounce when it sees Love retreating!
(And the dead heart goes right on beating)
Jan 31, 2017
Jan 31, 2017 at 10:57 AM UTC
"my soul to keep"
this prayer
elegant, simple complexity,
comes me haunting,
every evening,
this notion,
a faint ghosting,
repeatedly reappearing
and nightly leaving,
disappointed,
from between my crumpled, sweaty bedsheets,
departing with a demanding unsatisfied, incessant,
coated with a diabolical, unfeigned challenge -
write of me,
relentlessly commanding,
right me
only,
no notions,
come realized,
no poem body, resolved solutions,
are easy offered up
your inner voices,
fettered and deterred,
begging you,
screaming,
this one,
defer, defer,
for better days,
for better poets,
who require
no assembly instructions
cannot improve upon it
my distress, sensed;
the lady of the house,
over the shoulder peering,
sees the moody poem title that
has self-selected to core this poet's core,
for endless torture,
raining down ruinous lamentation
she, ever softly spoken
*"good man,
your soul,
your poems -
both mine to take
and
mine to keep
this title,
this poetic obligation
fulfillingly, fittingly,
my responsibility
mine to write
mine to keep
mine to right
mine to mine
for its
bejeweled contemplations
render easily unto me
what I have Caesarean seized,
pried lovingly and forcibly
from thee within
though seemingly rightfully thine,
title has passed,
legally, tenderly,
into your lover's arms
banish poet thine troubled assembled,
ensemble senses,
this particular poem's journey
and the soul that bears it,
released and relieved,
for now,
mine to take,
mine to keep,
and
thy soul,
in mine to dwell,
and
mine to complete"*
~
Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 8:35 PM UTC
I, no I mean WE will not be defeated.
Now, hope might seem depleted
But I promise that at the end of the tunnel there is a light,
It might be small and barley in sight,
But it is there and it beckons for us to hold on,
Hold on to each other: our friends, our sisters, our brothers,
Because in a world full of hateful slurs,
Where name calling and bullying still occurs,
We need to see each other as more than just negative labels,
It is up to us to look into the eyes of hate and turn the tables,
You might look at that person different than you and call them names,
But all you do is lose sight of, that despite you trying to give them a new one, their name is James.
And James is a fricking genius. No he really is. He is solving high school math problems in the 3rd grade,
And that little James plays Behtoveen on the piano like it has never been played,
But you missed out on all his amazing talents and the best hug you will ever get,
Because you were too busy trying to impress your friends, not worried who you’d upset.
It is time to learn there are a thousand better words than ******** or gay,
And most of y’all who use them don’t even know what they mean anyway,
So I will fight on to spread the word to end the word,
And no matter how many times they try and break us down,
I will never be deterred,
Because for the one’s I’ve known who are affected by this kind of speech,
For the kids I see every day, the students I teach,
I want them to live in the kind of place,
Where we give up hate and learn to embrace
So if you are with me, make the change today,
Buy a dictionary, find a better word to say.
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 1:17 AM UTC
It was a night like this
That the world changed forever
Some say for the worse
Some say for the better
A child arrived
The King of Kings
The world would be different
So the Angel sings
Unto you a child is born
The Son of God by name
Some were happy he was here
Others not so that he came
Wars are fought in the belief
That their Lord is the one
But, truly isn't each sides Lord
Our God's only son
He never travelled far from home
His message and his word
Were spread throughout the many lands
His silence not deterred
He spoke the word of God himself
He performed miracles for some
He'd do so in His Holy name
And his end would swiftly come
He never made age thirty four
Thirty Three up on the cross
He gave his life for his beliefs
Would you do so....at that cost?
His birthday, do we celebrate
Each year, at least we try
School plays portray the Saviours birth
Then retailers tell us buy
The season is not retail based
It is the Celebration of The One
The importance of the season's lost
When the Christmas plays are done
This year, please take a moment
Think about what Christmas means
Think about The Son of God
Before you try on those new jeans....
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 9:55 PM UTC
Childhood is full of
the tugging of hair
and licking sherbet so sharp that your
eyes water.
School is making daisy chains in the sunshine,
splashing through puddles in the rain,
socks that fall down
and hair that sticks up,
the clasping of sticky hands
and the shoving of bodies in ant farm corridors.
Friendships are forged in the form of
whispers,
hands cupped round ears
and tentative
"Will you be my best friend?"s.
These friendships
strengthen like super glue
or dissolve like sugar in tea,
fragile as a moth trapped in a jar.
Some friendships are more than
a breath of words in an ear,
some are a shout from
a mountain top.
Some friendships don't need to be deterred
by the length of a daisy chain
or how many sweets you've shared.
Some friendships don't need the deep roots that are
plotted and planted as kids,
because some friendships scatter off trees in the wind
all of a sudden
and bloom in the aftermath of tears,
tears cried over boys and cupped in collar bones.
Some friendships grow and blossom in the
sunshine of smiles,
giggles on lazy Sunday afternoons,
stifled laughter in sticky situations.
Some friendships are
sealed
by the soil of memories
more real than classrooms
and plastic chairs.
Some friendships are more than scrunched up notes
thrown across tables
and promises made with crossed hearts.
The best friendships are the ones formed as
adults
that make you feel
that young again.
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 3:49 PM UTC
We've been warned
By our warm embrace,
Not to believe the night sky
And the nightfall that lies
Ahead.
Since everything passes
Beneath our feet, moving
Us along the way, reckoning
Days all along, we were never
Deterred.
We never came back the same.
Just last night, the Moon told Me
About the Sun, the warmth, the
Madness. So I told the Moon
About You.
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 12:15 AM UTC
Stone faced destruction, a craft in a void
What does it matter if it can never be created or destroyed?
Event horizon guide me, living got you annoyed?
Like an atom we split, and through the dirt that we sift
Seeds of conditional omission baring down for the drift
Intentions spread on the wind, now bereft of the wit
Scattershot the lot and hold me down with the gift
If I'm breathing you'll see me believing in my condition
No bereaving is needed when I have made my decision
It's not a death of the ego; why it's a call to confirm it
Leave your name at the tone, and I will prove I deserve it
Message, misinterpreted, deterred but I'm building
I hit the chisel to my brain, I carved the marker I'm gilding
I knew that no seed would grow until the weeds had been slain
Now every moment I'm living converting power from pain
As I can offer no service, until I have made myself work
So I have left from the room, where all the chatter continues
to plant myself in the dirt, so I replenish my sinews
Confusing my silence for inaction on a whim could prove deadly
I'm stacking my arsenal, stick around for the medley.
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 5:00 AM UTC
Boldly going nowhere fast
Rolling in the fragrant grass
This has-been kid sits on his ***
Waiting for bad **** to pass
Nothing lately comes his way
Out of pocket
No means to pay
He slow starts to slip away
Fading fading like the light
Slipping sliding losing might
Verging deeper
Can not be heard
This young man won't be deterred
This passing phase
Won't phase him out
He'll rise up strong
Without a doubt
Learning lessons the hard way
Because this kid is known to party
This kid known to hit drink hard
But it hit him back
Left several scars
Winded
Wounded
Fighting back
This dark black out
Will be a thing of the past
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 8:40 AM UTC
Your beauty is a double
Inside and outside...
I believe you'd go through any struggle
But really,
Your traits save you the trouble
Smile as bright as the sun
A person like you?
There is none
You tell me I'm pretty
Even when I'm not ready
I really don't believe it,
Is it just out of pity?
Still,
I'm glad you're here,
Your shining optimism
And heartened words
I have never seen your kindness ever deterred
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 12:42 AM UTC