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"discouragement" poems
In all my paralyzing confusion, only one thing is needed; in all my anxiety over my much less than ideal circumstances, only one thing is needed; in all my this-is-so-unfair discouragement, only one thing is needed; in my pressing-down-like-a-boulder-on-my-chest grief, only one thing is needed; in my feels-like-my-insides-are-being-scraped-out sorrow, only one thing is needed; in my falling-apart-at-every-seam life, only one thing is needed; in my can’t-seem-to-muster-the-will-to-get-out-of-bed depression, only one thing is needed; in my sure-I’m-finally-going-crazy state of mind, only one thing is needed; in my so-mad-I’ve-got-to-throw-and-break-something anger, only one thing is needed. In the scorning and tormenting face of rejection or betrayal or failure or devastating news or disfiguring disease or the worst fears of my heart coming to pass, only one thing is needed—to come and sit at Jesus’ feet and listen to what He is saying. To entrust myself to Him, to acknowledge His presence with me, to submit myself to His perfect authority over me, to just look at Him and recognize His all-surpassing worth, to feast on Him, to wait for Him to speak and know that He longs to do so more than I long to hear it, to meditate on His Word and speak it back to Him both in praise and request and to ask Him exactly what it means for me right now, to be ready to respond to Him in obedience and follow him wherever or however He leads, to be willing to tune out every competing voice no matter how well-intentioned and to say “No!” to whatever He has not called me to, to believe that He cares deeply and passionately for me both in His emotion toward me and in His personal tending of me, to see that the details of my life matter even more to Him than they do to me and that He holds every one of them in His hands and is perfectly directing them for intimacy and glory, to refuse to be drawn away or worried or upset by the many preparations and distractions all around me by casting every burden down before Him and taking up His all-sufficient grace for every need, and above all to want Him more than anything and to let everything else fit into that all-pervasive desire—this is the ONE THING that is needed both now and throughout every season of my life, and if I will choose it, it will not be taken from me. It is the one thing worth fighting to the death for and will, no doubt, require just such a dying again and again and again...
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Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 7:27 PM UTC
The One Thing
In all my paralyzing confusion, only one thing is needed; in all my anxiety over my much less than ideal circumstances, only one thing is needed; in all my this-is-so-unfair discouragement, only one thing is needed; in my pressing-down-like-a-boulder-on-my-chest grief, only one thing is needed; in my feels-like-my-insides-are-being-scraped-out sorrow, only one thing is needed; in my falling-apart-at-every-seam life, only one thing is needed; in my can’t-seem-to-muster-the-will-to-get-out-of-bed depression, only one thing is needed; in my sure-I’m-finally-going-crazy state of mind, only one thing is needed; in my so-mad-I’ve-got-to-throw-and-break-something anger, only one thing is needed. In the scorning and tormenting face of rejection or betrayal or failure or devastating news or disfiguring disease or the worst fears of my heart coming to pass, only one thing is needed—to come and sit at Jesus’ feet and listen to what He is saying. To entrust myself to Him, to acknowledge His presence with me, to submit myself to His perfect authority over me, to just look at Him and recognize His all-surpassing worth, to feast on Him, to wait for Him to speak and know that He longs to do so more than I long to hear it, to meditate on His Word and speak it back to Him both in praise and request and to ask Him exactly what it means for me right now, to be ready to respond to Him in obedience and follow him wherever or however He leads, to be willing to tune out every competing voice no matter how well-intentioned and to say “No!” to whatever He has not called me to, to believe that He cares deeply and passionately for me both in His emotion toward me and in His personal tending of me, to see that the details of my life matter even more to Him than they do to me and that He holds every one of them in His hands and is perfectly directing them for intimacy and glory, to refuse to be drawn away or worried or upset by the many preparations and distractions all around me by casting every burden down before Him and taking up His all-sufficient grace for every need, and above all to want Him more than anything and to let everything else fit into that all-pervasive desire—this is the ONE THING that is needed both now and throughout every season of my life, and if I will choose it, it will not be taken from me. It is the one thing worth fighting to the death for and will, no doubt, require just such a dying again and again and again...
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2
1. Find a Poet Not a poser, not a "it's just a hobby" poet. Find one who mumbles lines as they scramble for a pen at breakfast; who shakes their head randomly when their thoughts aren't rhyming properly;  who has notebooks stashed around the house that you must never touch. 2. Listen Savor the spoken words, for those are harder to express. Keep in mind that they can't be edited and re-written, and be forgiving when a mistake is made. 3. Read The body speaks as loudly as words on a page do. When their eyes are closed or focused on the ceiling and the fingers are tapping out syllables, recognize the unique process. Respect the need for quiet, because if you look closely, you can read the poem on their face before they write it on the page. 4. Write Write your story together. Grab hold of the pen and hang on as you move across the page of life. Sometimes you will dance across, others you will be dragged. You may have to cross out a word, or a line, or a page, but don't give up. Discouragement is a poet's biggest enemy, inarticulateness their biggest fear. So end each day with a semi-colon, because the story will never end the way you think it will, and there must be room for more. There is always room for more, more words, more laughter, more tears, more love, When you love a poet.
0
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 7:28 PM UTC
How to Love a Poet
I am darkness I am light, I am chaos I am might, lies and truth unite, Fear and bravery, envy with hatred and love finally combined, I am the difference between illusions and dreams, nothing as it seems, Nightmares and mirrages, a realm of infinity and finite by its means, I am fusion and fission, with one simple yet very complex misssion, Energy and indolence, a wall, another fence, questions upon answers If small lies give rise to grand falsities, what is the truth gonna bring ? A place where you should be able to feel reality and fantasy's sting, Apathy and concern unite, come closer I don't really bite, trust me, My teeth look sharp, yet they are blunt, you can rant or stay calm, I am a living death wandering yet standing still, does it make you ill? Generosity and greed are both present while they are missing, still! Control the lies of your uncontrollable tounge, listen to the silence, Could we possibly agree that this unanimity relies in total dissension? I am the discouragement for your precious, little yet pure intentions, Aimlessness for hope of a future unexplored yet near enough to grasp I am the rue in pride, a lamp without light, elusive but not transient, A harmonic ramgage, riots over the horizon in undefined dark light, I am malevolent and benevolent, bent yet straight, right behind you, What am I ? ~ Umi
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Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 7:53 PM UTC
Inexplicably Undefined
Hope arrived... limping severely. The journey had been quite long, Searching for Something to hold on to. Hope was weak but would not give up, There is always hope, no matter how small. For: ”Hope springs eternal”. Faith was greatly weakened and vulnerable, Wounded by the words of discouragement. Naysayers of the day were chipping away. Faith needed help to overcome Doubt. Lurking close by... and closing in.... Keep the Faith Baby! Love felt lonely and threatened. In need of some friends to lean on. The days were long and dreary with Hate knocking at everyone's door. Love glimpsed Faith approaching and knew Hope was not far behind. Hope, Faith, Love; Together, they formed a bond and Began flourishing once again! Together, they opened the door of the heart in need of repair. Together, they rescued a heart, Filling it to overflowing. Love began to grow and blossom, Bringing Light to the darkened heart. Hope, walking tall and standing straight, Began to breath deep again. Faith leaped forward with renewed vigor to guard the Heart's door The Three Musketeers... together... Unstoppable... Conquer the world.
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Aug 16, 2010
Aug 16, 2010 at 3:12 PM UTC
The Three Musketeers
1010 Up Life’s Hill with my my little Bundle If I prove it steep— If a Discouragement withhold me— If my newest step Older feel than the Hope that prompted— Spotless be from blame Heart that proposed as Heart that accepted Homelessness, for Home—
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4.6k
Up Life’s Hill with my my little Bundle
Bouncing down the tall stairs Hazel eyes and short blonde hair Daughter, the first of two She looked up to you Mama’s girl was so small Not like her dad at all Daddy liked to fish, hunt and hike Kayak, canoe and mountain bike She liked all the little girl things Barbies, crayons and trampolines Today I sit in your old kayak and gear And think about us as if you were still here I wish we could do all these things together Now we’re the same, but you never got better In and out of hospitals all the time Still we all thought that you would be just fine No answers, no cure and little treatment But you had hope in the discouragement Time has passed and you’ve been missed greatly I realize now just how much you gave me Your stubbornness, determination and drive Your deep love and passion of all things outside Dad, so many things we could do I want to be back there with you On the water with that kayak But nothing will bring those days back So many things you’ll miss Stories of my first kiss Frightening my prom date Seeing me graduate Walking me down the aisle Tearing up all the while Dad, you are loved and you are missed.
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Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 4:28 PM UTC
Words Emerged from that Old Kayak
The strings the way I pluck it gives extra strength to my soul. The notes I try to read drives my thirst spirit. The lyrics I write in a paper expresses every single emotion. The music I hear and I make mends shattered feeling. But The passion I have and truly love seems fading. The comparison I get from others is breaking every notes. The people who are showing that I am no good made my paper empty. Discouragement scrapes the willing and hoping heart. -Steph Dionisio, July 26, 2015
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Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 10:05 AM UTC
® Fading Passion
It's well even in the land of well.. It's well even in the kingdom of well .. It's all garbage in garbage out all from garbage . Just like the name, the thoughts of many are, like in most.. it's garbage to those in the same vibration but below exceptions makes it seem godly and magnificent. I wish. I understood. things, words, language the fingers scribes some times... Trying to make sense but making nonsense, ha, I get it, sense takes one third of nonsense, twisted for the disabled. It's just too twisted for the disabled but not for the ables. Twisted....... Books.. Twisted.. Poems... Twisted.... Believes. Twisted... Unending.... Twisted scientists making clones.. Twister... Imagination... Twisted.. Flexibility... Twisted.. So they say... Anxious.. So they feel.. Unbearable. So they remain... Twisted it is and twisted it will be.. Cause, it's believed that twisted is for the unbeing.. It's the outwordly. It's the unreal.. Few escapes, the fews that grasp twisted and make it a friend and a guardian.. A partner and a mentor... Hence they sleep with twisted.. Pray with twisted.. Worship twisted.. Eat with twisted.. Eats twisted.. Marry twisted.. Bond twisted And starts delivering twisted babies.. everything rolls down with the understanding of twisted.. Never could end this infinite theorem.. cause the source is twisted and twisted is goodness and goodness is in all but all isn't in goodness... Even fates are twisted.. Cause our fates are being changed in per second not discovered yet but now or soon.. By the Steps taken... Choices made... Thoughts expressed. Thoughts conceived.. Conceived, oh, I remember a line in one of the forgeten books of agony.. Agony in processes. Agony in delivery.. Once again twisted it is. Sense is one third of nonsense.. Wakeup... Days are very slim here and nights are very colossal.. So awaken and prepare, for the rainy days might seem no end. Drought might be handy. Sorrow might be arrowed through the heart. Preparedness toughens and Patience exonerate.. Patience can be twisted with weakness, it's okay, Patience is weakness to the extent that weakness compels strength.... That's the TWIST.. Many fight to distance weakness yet run after strength but never realize that strength is the shadow to weakness. Shoma morita's.. Embrace with.. Accept it.. Adopt it.. But never tolerate it from the weak.. Else excuses will be made from it. Procrastination will be fashioned. And discouragement will be manifested.. Manifestation.. The resulting culmination of things.. Things precipitated by TWISTED... Now Wakeup. It's well even in the land of well.. It's well even in the kingdom of well .. It's all garbage in garbage out all from garbage . Just like the name, the thoughts of many are, like in most.. it's garbage to those in the same vibration but below exceptions makes it seem godly and magnificent. I wish. I understood the things, words, language the fingers scribes some times... Trying to make sense but making nonsense, ha, I get it, sense takes one third of nonsense, twisted for the disabled. It's just too twisted for the disabled but not for the ables. Twisted....... Books.. Twisted.. Poems... Twisted.... Believes. Twisted... Unending.... Twisted scientists making clones.. Twister... Imagination... Twisted.. Flexibility... Twisted.. So they say... Anxious.. So they feel.. Unbearable. So they remain... Twisted it is and twisted it will be.. Cause, it's believed that twisted is for the unbeing.. Is the outwordly. Is the unreal.. Escapes. Few escapes, the fews that grasp twisted and make it a friend and a guardian.. A partner and a mentor... Hence they sleep with twisted.. Pray with twisted.. Worship twisted.. Eat with twisted.. Eats twisted.. Marry twisted.. Bond twisted And starts delivering twisted babies.. everything rolls down with the understanding of twisted.. Never could end this infinite theorem.. cause the source is twisted and twisted is goodness and goodness is in all but all isn't in goodness... Even fates are twisted.. Cause our fates are being changed in per second not discovered yet but now or soon.. By Steps taken... Choices made... Thoughts expressed. Thoughts conceived.. Conceived, oh, I remember a line in one of the forgeten books of agony.. Agony in processes. Agony in delivery.. Once again twisted it is. Sense is one third of nonsense.. Wakeup... Days are very slim here and nights are very colossal.. So awaken and prepare, for the rainy days might seem no end. Drought might be handy. Sorrow might be arrowed through the heart. Preparedness toughens and Patience exonerate.. Patience can be twisted with weakness, it's okay, Patience is weakness to the extent that weakness compels strength.... That's the TWIST.. Many fight to distance weakness yet run after strength but never realize that strength is the shadow to weakness. Shoma morita's.. Embrace with.. Accept it.. Adopt it.. But never tolerate it from the weak.. Else, excuses will be made from it. Procrastination will be fashioned. And discouragement will be manifested.. Manifestation.. The resulting culmination of things.. Things precipitated by TWISTED... Now Wakeup.
0
Jul 10, 2023
Jul 10, 2023 at 5:43 PM UTC
Twisted...
It's well even in the land of well.. It's well even in the kingdom of well .. It's all garbage in garbage out all from garbage . Just like the name, the thoughts of many are, like in most.. it's garbage to those in the same vibration but below exceptions makes it seem godly and magnificent. I wish. I understood. things, words, language the fingers scribes some times... Trying to make sense but making nonsense, ha, I get it, sense takes one third of nonsense, twisted for the disabled. It's just too twisted for the disabled but not for the ables. Twisted....... Books.. Twisted.. Poems... Twisted.... Believes. Twisted... Unending.... Twisted scientists making clones.. Twister... Imagination... Twisted.. Flexibility... Twisted.. So they say... Anxious.. So they feel.. Unbearable. So they remain... Twisted it is and twisted it will be.. Cause, it's believed that twisted is for the unbeing.. It's the outwordly. It's the unreal.. Few escapes, the fews that grasp twisted and make it a friend and a guardian.. A partner and a mentor... Hence they sleep with twisted.. Pray with twisted.. Worship twisted.. Eat with twisted.. Eats twisted.. Marry twisted.. Bond twisted And starts delivering twisted babies.. everything rolls down with the understanding of twisted.. Never could end this infinite theorem.. cause the source is twisted and twisted is goodness and goodness is in all but all isn't in goodness... Even fates are twisted.. Cause our fates are being changed in per second not discovered yet but now or soon.. By the Steps taken... Choices made... Thoughts expressed. Thoughts conceived.. Conceived, oh, I remember a line in one of the forgeten books of agony.. Agony in processes. Agony in delivery.. Once again twisted it is. Sense is one third of nonsense.. Wakeup... Days are very slim here and nights are very colossal.. So awaken and prepare, for the rainy days might seem no end. Drought might be handy. Sorrow might be arrowed through the heart. Preparedness toughens and Patience exonerate.. Patience can be twisted with weakness, it's okay, Patience is weakness to the extent that weakness compels strength.... That's the TWIST.. Many fight to distance weakness yet run after strength but never realize that strength is the shadow to weakness. Shoma morita's.. Embrace with.. Accept it.. Adopt it.. But never tolerate it from the weak.. Else excuses will be made from it. Procrastination will be fashioned. And discouragement will be manifested.. Manifestation.. The resulting culmination of things.. Things precipitated by TWISTED... Now Wakeup. It's well even in the land of well.. It's well even in the kingdom of well .. It's all garbage in garbage out all from garbage . Just like the name, the thoughts of many are, like in most.. it's garbage to those in the same vibration but below exceptions makes it seem godly and magnificent. I wish. I understood the things, words, language the fingers scribes some times... Trying to make sense but making nonsense, ha, I get it, sense takes one third of nonsense, twisted for the disabled. It's just too twisted for the disabled but not for the ables. Twisted....... Books.. Twisted.. Poems... Twisted.... Believes. Twisted... Unending.... Twisted scientists making clones.. Twister... Imagination... Twisted.. Flexibility... Twisted.. So they say... Anxious.. So they feel.. Unbearable. So they remain... Twisted it is and twisted it will be.. Cause, it's believed that twisted is for the unbeing.. Is the outwordly. Is the unreal.. Escapes. Few escapes, the fews that grasp twisted and make it a friend and a guardian.. A partner and a mentor... Hence they sleep with twisted.. Pray with twisted.. Worship twisted.. Eat with twisted.. Eats twisted.. Marry twisted.. Bond twisted And starts delivering twisted babies.. everything rolls down with the understanding of twisted.. Never could end this infinite theorem.. cause the source is twisted and twisted is goodness and goodness is in all but all isn't in goodness... Even fates are twisted.. Cause our fates are being changed in per second not discovered yet but now or soon.. By Steps taken... Choices made... Thoughts expressed. Thoughts conceived.. Conceived, oh, I remember a line in one of the forgeten books of agony.. Agony in processes. Agony in delivery.. Once again twisted it is. Sense is one third of nonsense.. Wakeup... Days are very slim here and nights are very colossal.. So awaken and prepare, for the rainy days might seem no end. Drought might be handy. Sorrow might be arrowed through the heart. Preparedness toughens and Patience exonerate.. Patience can be twisted with weakness, it's okay, Patience is weakness to the extent that weakness compels strength.... That's the TWIST.. Many fight to distance weakness yet run after strength but never realize that strength is the shadow to weakness. Shoma morita's.. Embrace with.. Accept it.. Adopt it.. But never tolerate it from the weak.. Else, excuses will be made from it. Procrastination will be fashioned. And discouragement will be manifested.. Manifestation.. The resulting culmination of things.. Things precipitated by TWISTED... Now Wakeup.
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152
sail boats and oceans and really anything that floats and carries a person far away in a big body of water I don’t think I have to say why it’s obvious I’m sure everyone has a thing for sail boats and oceans I like busses too I seem to get really impatient on them, and I like that a lot because I know I can’t do anything about it it’s a game of Will I Go Crazy Or Will I Have A Snooze? I like being stuck between being stuck and being unstuck one day I want to sit on a bus for 24 hours and see what happens (I will be doing a lot of that in the month of October) I’ll bring books, my iPod and movies to watch on my laptop but I’ll probably just stare out the window hours on end tall buildings will turn into blurry trees and blurry trees will turn into pixilated neon canola crops and there’ll be cows and ponies and one long road to Montreal then Toronto then who the **** knows where because I am already dreading going home after the trip even though I haven’t left for the trip yet it’s months to come I have a thing for finding a new home everywhere I go but I never find one I like the process of looking for a really long time then giving up from discouragement and sad feelings of abandonment stemmed from my childhood daddy issues I’m pretty sure everyone has daddy-abandonment issues I have a thing for assuming every one has the same problems that I do but it turns out that there are loads of girls that like to eat lots and don’t feel ashamed of the extra scoop of double fudge ice cream and there are teenagers that get along with their fathers and look up to them they go out for lunches and joke about dates and fix cars and tell their little girls they’ll always be their little girls and go on awkward shopping sprees and barbecue but everyone has a thing for sail boats and water we all want to escape our eating disorder and drinking problem a skinny body or a bulky body bad grades and perfectionism the people pleasing pushovers fathers and mothers and old european traditions family dinners that go perfectly and are so boring because of it the fragility of feeling unique the arrogance of feeling unique the lack of faith in ourselves being alone
0
Aug 30, 2012
Aug 30, 2012 at 2:47 PM UTC
I have a thing for
sail boats and oceans and really anything that floats and carries a person far away in a big body of water I don’t think I have to say why it’s obvious I’m sure everyone has a thing for sail boats and oceans I like busses too I seem to get really impatient on them, and I like that a lot because I know I can’t do anything about it it’s a game of Will I Go Crazy Or Will I Have A Snooze? I like being stuck between being stuck and being unstuck one day I want to sit on a bus for 24 hours and see what happens (I will be doing a lot of that in the month of October) I’ll bring books, my iPod and movies to watch on my laptop but I’ll probably just stare out the window hours on end tall buildings will turn into blurry trees and blurry trees will turn into pixilated neon canola crops and there’ll be cows and ponies and one long road to Montreal then Toronto then who the **** knows where because I am already dreading going home after the trip even though I haven’t left for the trip yet it’s months to come I have a thing for finding a new home everywhere I go but I never find one I like the process of looking for a really long time then giving up from discouragement and sad feelings of abandonment stemmed from my childhood daddy issues I’m pretty sure everyone has daddy-abandonment issues I have a thing for assuming every one has the same problems that I do but it turns out that there are loads of girls that like to eat lots and don’t feel ashamed of the extra scoop of double fudge ice cream and there are teenagers that get along with their fathers and look up to them they go out for lunches and joke about dates and fix cars and tell their little girls they’ll always be their little girls and go on awkward shopping sprees and barbecue but everyone has a thing for sail boats and water we all want to escape our eating disorder and drinking problem a skinny body or a bulky body bad grades and perfectionism the people pleasing pushovers fathers and mothers and old european traditions family dinners that go perfectly and are so boring because of it the fragility of feeling unique the arrogance of feeling unique the lack of faith in ourselves being alone
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58
It’s been said to cause success, Yet its’ face is boldly grim. Some even say it makes or breaks you, Kills your soul, or fills the brim. It’s been deemed the roughest test, Where preparation meets implausible. Whenever passion makes a breakthrough Sounds of hell’s end become audible. It’s received reviews of stress, Of endless torture tearing through. Leaving good men self-departed, For they had no will to make it through. It’s been seen in years of the past, The trials of Job denote it well. As Satan crushed his joys, Job consummated to prevail. It’s been said, “show no regret!” When you look deep into your mind, For this test is truly an artist Creating a man, from pure divine. So why let discouragement corrupt Your trip through the abyss? For it’s been said to cause success, And that’s one hell of a gift.
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Nov 20, 2011
Nov 20, 2011 at 1:03 PM UTC
Adversity
She was like the iron pyrite The teacher asked them to examine, and describe; Cold, dense and prickly, Difficult to love. Given the right light And a gentle handling, Oh, how she'd sparkle, But in that place, expectations and sensory overload rendered her lumpen, and resistant. Removed from her books and her inner world - all she needed - And placed in a maelstrom, She was bewildered and forlorn. Un-cooperative, they called her, And the teachers loved the other gems instead, Pretty little nuggets; Ruby, Jasper, Jade. Two years of discouragement and dislike And even the tentative sparkles had darkened. The other gems enjoyed each other And moved away from her magnetic pull, sensing difference. No outright meanness, not yet, But hints were brewing, whispers had started And she wandered alone, in the playground, Talking to the seagulls, and singing to herself. The teachers only wanted conformity And called her parents to voice concern about her lack of friends. Had they asked her, allowed her to have a say She would have told them it didn't matter But they were determined that it did, to them, if not to her, And her parents were added to the burden of people Worried and disappointed, watching. She knew now, she was different, she had always known but never minded, Now it was a problem. She didn't fit, Like that scratchy purple uniform, around her chubby waist Food didn't judge, dislike or condemn. That life ended, and a new struggle, in a new school, began. This was harder; the meanness was apparent now, Difference wasn't tolerated And someone wandering alone was a target. She found a place to hide, behind a staircase, with a book, But they found her, removed her and patrolled her only refuge Forcing her to submit to the torture. Every day was a war zone, So she found another way, and embraced ill-health, stealthily Spraying deodorant directly into her own face induced asthma attacks; and not all those ear infections were real, She was an accomplished actress. She got through it, millions do. She found her own place, her own friends in her own time. Among Onyx, Jet and Tigers Eye Her darkness didn't mark her out as different, And all that fake illness Was great prep for theatre, Where she was able to return to her inner world, And no-one cared if you feigned madness Or embraced the real thing. Difference was celebrated, The whispers now, were that she had a great stage presence, And a talent to be nurtured, Not a difference to be despised.
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Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 4:35 AM UTC
The Girl who Talked to Seagulls
She was like the iron pyrite The teacher asked them to examine, and describe; Cold, dense and prickly, Difficult to love. Given the right light And a gentle handling, Oh, how she'd sparkle, But in that place, expectations and sensory overload rendered her lumpen, and resistant. Removed from her books and her inner world - all she needed - And placed in a maelstrom, She was bewildered and forlorn. Un-cooperative, they called her, And the teachers loved the other gems instead, Pretty little nuggets; Ruby, Jasper, Jade. Two years of discouragement and dislike And even the tentative sparkles had darkened. The other gems enjoyed each other And moved away from her magnetic pull, sensing difference. No outright meanness, not yet, But hints were brewing, whispers had started And she wandered alone, in the playground, Talking to the seagulls, and singing to herself. The teachers only wanted conformity And called her parents to voice concern about her lack of friends. Had they asked her, allowed her to have a say She would have told them it didn't matter But they were determined that it did, to them, if not to her, And her parents were added to the burden of people Worried and disappointed, watching. She knew now, she was different, she had always known but never minded, Now it was a problem. She didn't fit, Like that scratchy purple uniform, around her chubby waist Food didn't judge, dislike or condemn. That life ended, and a new struggle, in a new school, began. This was harder; the meanness was apparent now, Difference wasn't tolerated And someone wandering alone was a target. She found a place to hide, behind a staircase, with a book, But they found her, removed her and patrolled her only refuge Forcing her to submit to the torture. Every day was a war zone, So she found another way, and embraced ill-health, stealthily Spraying deodorant directly into her own face induced asthma attacks; and not all those ear infections were real, She was an accomplished actress. She got through it, millions do. She found her own place, her own friends in her own time. Among Onyx, Jet and Tigers Eye Her darkness didn't mark her out as different, And all that fake illness Was great prep for theatre, Where she was able to return to her inner world, And no-one cared if you feigned madness Or embraced the real thing. Difference was celebrated, The whispers now, were that she had a great stage presence, And a talent to be nurtured, Not a difference to be despised.
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61
I wander aimlessly in my mind Trying to get my life back on track. I see my future, my goal, up ahead But I’m pulled in a million directions. Darkness creeps in every second, And I’m drowned with words of Discouragement Like “can’t,” “won’t,” and “impossible.” These words become my demons and They push my friends and family away As I sink deeper into the dark abyss That I like to call my mind. “You can’t do it!” “You’re not good enough!” That’s all I hear every day and night As my demons take control of my life. I can’t do it! I’m not good enough! That’s what I begin to tell myself As my demons take control of my life. I’m crashing and burning every second As I listen to my demons more and more. What’s in your past is in the past but my Demons always bring my past to present. “You always fail!” “Why can’t you be more like …?” My demons taunt and haunt me by bringing The bad experiences of my past to present. My mind begins to spin uncontrollably As I become overwhelmed by my demons. I believe their every word and every action And I begin to disengage myself from reality. I’m a failure! I can never be like …! I believe that my demons’ every word is true. They’re controlling my life and I can’t escape! Crashing and burning, I’ll always fail! Escaping my demons, I cannot and never will! I fall and I crash and I burn, at least in my mind. This is my life, my demons’ life!
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Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 8:04 PM UTC
Life I: Demons
Connection From the past just a voice memories come strong and fast the school its walls doors and windows dissolved they live still They were an integral part you can’t interact daily come to know them how ever wide the divide extends over years They were life then now in shadows they still command your imagination never very far from the heart quietly they thrill Sometimes alone you deny and go but you can’t leave them they were implanted ingrained in your life always they exist Difference opposite levels vary the constant going and coming a circle one in front one in back this defines grows character The rubbing and friction goes beyond outer circumstances it reaches inner reality from this constant exposure an unbreakable bond This is not mundane life these are core components we cheat and allow failure if we close ourselves off our own worst detractor You will change yourself forever when stimuli and good will is rebuffed there pulsates defenses more than we know in past friends A prison we make when we choose isolation brick by brick we wall ourselves in close out the sunlight that shines out of other hearts Mix words with action and then allow yourself to be moved images possess power they can forcefully carry you to unequaled heights Those long ago days hold seeds from a harvest that can be birthed again and of all times now is crucial the time is now get ready start The sun at your back the future ahead speak without faltering you are the guiding light of all that is to be shared and made brand new How strong the future will be is determined by how willing you are to reach into the past being selective you draw on all that is good Fellow students your parents their history and victories all are your guideposts unerring unwavering their spirits lead a guiding star Many battles long has been the fight discouragement drags your smile down enlightened others beat fear now you have understood Yours and their quality is like timbers tested in great sea storms you have come into your own now masterful owners of life now give
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Jan 1, 2012
Jan 1, 2012 at 8:26 PM UTC
Connection
Connection From the past just a voice memories come strong and fast the school its walls doors and windows dissolved they live still They were an integral part you can’t interact daily come to know them how ever wide the divide extends over years They were life then now in shadows they still command your imagination never very far from the heart quietly they thrill Sometimes alone you deny and go but you can’t leave them they were implanted ingrained in your life always they exist Difference opposite levels vary the constant going and coming a circle one in front one in back this defines grows character The rubbing and friction goes beyond outer circumstances it reaches inner reality from this constant exposure an unbreakable bond This is not mundane life these are core components we cheat and allow failure if we close ourselves off our own worst detractor You will change yourself forever when stimuli and good will is rebuffed there pulsates defenses more than we know in past friends A prison we make when we choose isolation brick by brick we wall ourselves in close out the sunlight that shines out of other hearts Mix words with action and then allow yourself to be moved images possess power they can forcefully carry you to unequaled heights Those long ago days hold seeds from a harvest that can be birthed again and of all times now is crucial the time is now get ready start The sun at your back the future ahead speak without faltering you are the guiding light of all that is to be shared and made brand new How strong the future will be is determined by how willing you are to reach into the past being selective you draw on all that is good Fellow students your parents their history and victories all are your guideposts unerring unwavering their spirits lead a guiding star Many battles long has been the fight discouragement drags your smile down enlightened others beat fear now you have understood Yours and their quality is like timbers tested in great sea storms you have come into your own now masterful owners of life now give
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17
The real power of desire is doing the right thing at the right time; It's about making a decision knowing that nobody's going to notice your good works; There's so much negative imagery of black fatherhood in continuously postponing to do right; You should ask yourself, “how come postponing things hasn't paid but instead it's robbed me; How come that's not as newsworthy? Do it now. The real power of character is doing the right thing when nobody's looking; There are too many people who think that good things are best done under people's watch; Make an initiative to change the way you handle matters of procrastination in your everyday life; Then you will know that Initiative is doing the right thing without being told, and doing the best; It's a choice, not a chance; it's an initiative not only a desire; Do it now. It's not doubt that the biggest exam that we fail each day is discouragement test; Does it mean that life it not always fair for people who fail the test of discouragement; I believe in the contrary; I believe that if you keep doing things in time, you always be right; Next to doing the right thing at the right time, is to let yourself know you are doing the right thing; So, ethics are not necessarily to do with being law-abiding but being interested in the moral path to do it now.
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Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 4:06 AM UTC
Do It Now
I'm running about with my mind scattered around, There you sit quietly alone on the ground. I hardly see you, I'm in such a hurry. As I whirl past your image is blurry. When I stop for a moment to eat my meal, You soft, quiet voice makes an appeal. I don't even hear you, I'm not paying attention. Your story begins with misapprehension. When you notice how little my ears are hearing, You become quiet depressed, your voice disappearing. My response to this; agitated, and sharp. Naturally, not failing to go straight through your heart. "Darling, please, I'm quite busy today. Yes, of course I'm listening, but remind me: What did you say?" But to you the message is already made clear: You are negligible, and my apology completely insincere. There, your self-worth is crushed under my shoe. You sit back quietly, shrouded in blue. I brush off your discouragement, I have no time to spare. As I rush out the door, you are left, though it may be unfair. Sometimes things are just as they appear. I am too preoccupied, and the top of my priorities you are no where near.
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Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 9:32 PM UTC
Unimportant
I don't know the secret to having poems trend There are some poems I feel certain that they will trend and they do not I have read many excellent poems that did not trend, the list seems unending I still feel that they are worthwhile ,especially when they caused a laugh or a smile or even a tear when I really need a good cry If the poems effect me or others I feel they are successful no matter whether they are trending or not I feel bad for fellow poets if they get discouraged if their poems don't trend, the heart is such a fragile thing to mend, especially if discouragement sets in causing them to question their talents or ability. My advice would be just write, if it trends great; if not keep writing don't give up If you are writing to an Audience of one or 500 just get your feelings out you many be surprised by the results someday, you poems may really touch peoples lives that can relate to them. Whether the poems trend or not Keep Writing!
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Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 10:32 PM UTC
Trending
The look in your eyes has got me mesmerized tonight. Pick up your dreams, glue on some wings and watch them fly. Over the mountain, through the clouds and out of sight. But don't forget the world you will return to when you die. All of my wishes are illuminating the path you travel Hoping for the best, praying for your safety as you carry on Steer clear of discouragement and at the distractions you must not marvel Our love and support will make you strong. I will hold your hand forevermore. But keep your wings up and soar. Close your eyes and dream.
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Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 11:30 PM UTC
Untitled
A strange recipe, There seems a certain scarceness of plan to it all. A summarized unfairness found to this madness, Two parts chaos to each one part life and matter in equal balance. A slight dose of loss and grievance, coupled with a dash of unpleasant discourse and equal parts discouragement. Break two hearts and empty them into the emulsion. They'll be buried in there, to be forgotten as individuals and rendered part of the whole. Dust with the sweetness of love, loyalty and fulfilled longing. And present it all to someone special, Only to find they don't like the bitter taste. - If each mans life was a dessert, mine would be a dark cake, dry as the desert. N.H.
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Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 10:37 AM UTC
Baker
of all creation who breathes it is you robbing me of my lungs' ability, the electricity of your presence shocks me into memories. they pull on my coat because it is cold in my own heart unlike your fingertips melting the ice of my first impressions. part of me resides in your throat and I wait on you to swallow me yet. I am nothing if not a reflection in your irises. violence of dawn is enough to redirect me to your voice for discouragement. I was never taught that this fear could keep me safe from fears. you hold your own tongue and you land on both your feet and I am still stumbling to regain balance. a beggar might ask me for some change and I will rid myself of you this time. yesterday you said goodnight and it is dark as night until you say goodmorning and I seem to wait for the sun to rise with your chest. this was not supposed to happen you were supposed to flood the garden now the flowers are blooming.
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Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 2:42 AM UTC
A Beggar Might Ask
I had a light in me It shone so bright that people could see what was inside I talked about things that I loved religiously And I clearly knew what I wanted to do I did not give two ***** About what anyone thought of my work Until I found myself wanting recognition I asked people to tell me what was good and what was bad I saw no wrong in that Neither did they Until I realized that I craved for compliments I craved the praise It was not for bad intentions I wanted to get better I wanted to be heard I wanted the world to know me But slowly, I became obsessed I started relying on people I relied on them to tell me my work is good While I no longer believed in myself The more they told me it was not good enough; That I was not good enough My light started to dim And discouragement was staring me right in the face I spent so long minding what everyone else thought of me That I forgot the reason I was doing what I was doing I listened to what everybody wanted me to do I pushed aside the things that I wanted to do for myself
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Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 11:23 AM UTC
Discouragement
I stretched my arms to those Of my family and friends, but No matter how hard I try My demons are too powerful. ***“You are a failure!” “Just give up!”*** I crashed and I burned, and my Demons accomplished their goal. My mind becomes flooded with The ashes, still smoldering with The Evilness of my demons and Their words of discouragement. I open my eyes and I see a light; It shines so bright I become blind. A voice I hear from the light and I could not believe that I hear. ***“Rise my child, from the ashes You’ll grow. Stronger, better, and brighter Than before are you. Rise my child, and spread your Wings. Your family and friends will guide You along your way. Your journey was harsh and filled With so much despair. The ups and downs, your journey Was no a roller coaster ride. Close your eyes and listen to My voice. Let it fill your mind with Warmth, Love, and Happiness. Your demons thought that they Have succeeded. But it is you who have succeeded Thanks to everyone around you. You have succeeded by knowing Your demons. Now wage war against them, and Your demons will fall. Rise my child, become the Phoenix. You are better than your past, Reborn into Greatness.”*** The Phoenix I am gives me strength. Anxious I am, but fearful I’m not. I am excited for a new beginning And nothing can hold me back. I am a Phoenix, stronger than before. I close my eyes, spread my wings, Hold my breath, and I break through The Darkness of my mind.
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Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 6:01 PM UTC
Life III: Phoenix
i never understood the concept of intellectual ************ coming from people with more than three children. personally i found it more economic to sell the theory of relativity than i cared to see three *****    telling red from blue apart...   the concept of intellectual ************ had me lost...              i could only understand the worth of ************ intellectually had i the capacity to breed 3 or more children... i found that intellectual ************ always existed in people who had the capacity to breed   Irish families... and did so... without discouragement... inclusive of some ulterior prompt, or some Amazonian whim. or a potato famine.         as paddy always does: move to the whimsical care for strata.       intellectual ************ only makes sense if you come from large investment familial circles...    or rabbit libido. who cares?! none of them will ever build a Coliseum what's the bother? a pint of Guinness?! why, i can pass that one modern bother...    i rather ********** intellectually, than fulfil my biological obligation of a catholic family... paddy oats.         what do you get when you scratch a potato long enough?                                 CHIPS! squatter mckenzies! limp ***** kilt prone! chequers & cheese!                         cheap joke... ha ha... hmm ha: you got to load up on the romance to **** off what's never bound to be funny.
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Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 1:06 AM UTC
intellectual ************
i never understood the concept of intellectual ************ coming from people with more than three children. personally i found it more economic to sell the theory of relativity than i cared to see three *****    telling red from blue apart...   the concept of intellectual ************ had me lost...              i could only understand the worth of ************ intellectually had i the capacity to breed 3 or more children... i found that intellectual ************ always existed in people who had the capacity to breed   Irish families... and did so... without discouragement... inclusive of some ulterior prompt, or some Amazonian whim. or a potato famine.         as paddy always does: move to the whimsical care for strata.       intellectual ************ only makes sense if you come from large investment familial circles...    or rabbit libido. who cares?! none of them will ever build a Coliseum what's the bother? a pint of Guinness?! why, i can pass that one modern bother...    i rather ********** intellectually, than fulfil my biological obligation of a catholic family... paddy oats.         what do you get when you scratch a potato long enough?                                 CHIPS! squatter mckenzies! limp ***** kilt prone! chequers & cheese!                         cheap joke... ha ha... hmm ha: you got to load up on the romance to **** off what's never bound to be funny.
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38
Without doubt my middle finger points To all those who discouraged me..   Even if you are my kith and kin.. If even once you treat me like a bin.. With proud I shall say.. You belong to the group of .. All those who discouraged me..   Whenever you mocked in play.. On my dreams and say... That I won't be able to do it.. Dear Sir, with pleasure go find your next victim.. Cause may be you ain't got what it takes.. Its discouragement which makes.. Me stronger by the day.. You can hit and hide.. But only I will decide ..Where you belong..! And you are one of those ..Who discouraged me..!
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Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 7:51 AM UTC
To all those who discouraged me.
We live the life pined with sores battling the battle in a defeated hope out of lacks we've known plenty of yawns in a helpless battle where none prevails but travail the future of the youth of the land is but buried in the arms of corruption we run,more haste less speed the ambitious youth becomes enslaved to unrewarded efforts but clothed in gowns of discouragement we want to learn we want to read we want to write we want to speak and be heard but the road to learning is blocked by them that are known by godfathers who shall lead us by the hand to cross this ocean that opens its mouth wide to swallow all of our effort,all of our zeal.all of our enthusiasm which hope lie for us? When shall we know reward for our efforts? When shall success breakforth to harvest us all that searched diligently? When???
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Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 10:19 AM UTC
Struggle
Bound by the painful infliction of your words I bleed Never imagining that family Would be the ones who hurt fully Raised me Stabbing me Continuously With your words I still bleed My grandma never believed in me Mama never defended me It's okay ma, I love you How could you free me If you yourself are still bound in captivity? I yearn to the moment you and I are free But the possibility Of this task is greatly Unattainable How can I Break the curse of the words That bind you and I If you Are still locked up and I Well I - am a coward. A prisoner and a coward Will never move forward So I must break myself And set astray But don't fret mother - just pray. Know I'll be there at the end of the day Despite our hardships And your past brutality You whipped me with Words of discouragement But I blame you not How can you possibly provide encouragement When you have never had any Pent up anger - with no one to vent No self confidence But it is okay mother I love you And if you love me You will let me break free Temporarily As I rid my baggage and come for thee I can't free you and I Or think about we If my escape tactics must be sharpened But don't worry mother I hover over you spiritually Until it's time to break you free Through me And the tactics I've uncovered through my journey.
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Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 10:50 AM UTC
Break Me