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"dismantles" poems
I scream to drown the noise,             And fight to hold my poise Against this sonic wave             That dismantles and destroys. This place that I called home…             It’s all that’s left of what I own. I fear I’m destined to the desert,            Or somewhere desolate to roam. Tried to convince my brain this wasn’t real –            That lies are all I feel. I’m not sure why I fear this noise;            There’s nothing left for it to steal.                         -         -         - Yet, I plug my ears and scream;          Tear the stitching from my seams . . . I find it difficult to sleep,          And near-impossible to dream. I scream so hard it makes me sweat, And my skin begins to gleam                         *This heat turns smiles into tears,                          Like water into steam* My head begins to ache. My hands begin to shake. If I chose the wrong path,              I made one hell of a mistake. While my lungs still permit,              I’ll keep their volume set on high, Lifting my head to the clouds,              To scream at the sky. I have yet to hear an answer,         And while I’m not much of dancer I learned some steps from Lady Luck         In hopes to cure me of this cancer.                         -         -         - Now, I don’t believe in luck – But she still left me with something . . . While we danced I took notice; The noise dulled slightly to a humming. I looked back to Lady Luck – and I’m sure this wasn’t just a dream – But she had vanished to the air,                              Like water into steam. I said “I don’t believe in luck.” She still left me something, though. She said:                    *“You can’t predict the world –                       I assume this much you know…                       But if a farmer plants a seed,                       In that spot, a plant will grow.”* One day, my throat gave out. For no longer, could I shout. And I don’t believe in luck,              So I was simply left with doubt. I cursed that lady’s words. I told myself that she was crazy.        When something caught my eye…        There - at my feet - grew a daisy. A daisy… In the desert… So despite how bad my head hurt, I thanked God for Lady Luck.          I thanked God that I had met her. The noise I heard was her opposite.                It was the presence of chance. I've learned the farmer can’t predict the world, But, as surely as seeds grow into plants . . .                      My only choices are my actions.                      So, I think I’ll take today to dance.
0
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 9:34 PM UTC
I'll Take Today to Dance
I scream to drown the noise,             And fight to hold my poise Against this sonic wave             That dismantles and destroys. This place that I called home…             It’s all that’s left of what I own. I fear I’m destined to the desert,            Or somewhere desolate to roam. Tried to convince my brain this wasn’t real –            That lies are all I feel. I’m not sure why I fear this noise;            There’s nothing left for it to steal.                         -         -         - Yet, I plug my ears and scream;          Tear the stitching from my seams . . . I find it difficult to sleep,          And near-impossible to dream. I scream so hard it makes me sweat, And my skin begins to gleam                         *This heat turns smiles into tears,                          Like water into steam* My head begins to ache. My hands begin to shake. If I chose the wrong path,              I made one hell of a mistake. While my lungs still permit,              I’ll keep their volume set on high, Lifting my head to the clouds,              To scream at the sky. I have yet to hear an answer,         And while I’m not much of dancer I learned some steps from Lady Luck         In hopes to cure me of this cancer.                         -         -         - Now, I don’t believe in luck – But she still left me with something . . . While we danced I took notice; The noise dulled slightly to a humming. I looked back to Lady Luck – and I’m sure this wasn’t just a dream – But she had vanished to the air,                              Like water into steam. I said “I don’t believe in luck.” She still left me something, though. She said:                    *“You can’t predict the world –                       I assume this much you know…                       But if a farmer plants a seed,                       In that spot, a plant will grow.”* One day, my throat gave out. For no longer, could I shout. And I don’t believe in luck,              So I was simply left with doubt. I cursed that lady’s words. I told myself that she was crazy.        When something caught my eye…        There - at my feet - grew a daisy. A daisy… In the desert… So despite how bad my head hurt, I thanked God for Lady Luck.          I thanked God that I had met her. The noise I heard was her opposite.                It was the presence of chance. I've learned the farmer can’t predict the world, But, as surely as seeds grow into plants . . .                      My only choices are my actions.                      So, I think I’ll take today to dance.
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67
Wait for the door by the pillar because she’ll be back again, with an arm around her neck to keep her warm against cold eyes looking down, from the surrounding guys from around the bar. Every jackpot ever, was won in their hearts that night in that shadow of time that they called light. Single girls will always be watched, and those girls with a man attached will always seem unmatched in the eyes of the lonesome. I waited by the door and joined in with her stride, a pace set with vigour and pride. Did I speak? No, never spoke up, just let it carried on until it lit and flared up. When that match hit okra runway slip everything comfortable flipped and switched into a cushion of stone that now dismantles backs, blisters fingers and causes calluses that stop and linger. Hate myself? Increasingly. Personification was me, to her and to me, she was just that. I should really get in contact, and apologise.
0
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 11:53 AM UTC
WALMART DANCE
Blood come, blood lust Pulse and closed trickle Pledged and disloyal Come beckon her closer The red grin dismantles Flesh as well as the cleaver Pain left drowned within Infinite desire And heir blackens and boils Skin softer than petals Split apart for the curious / The insatiable Come beckon her closer Come beckon her closer We all die in the moment And live for nothing.
0
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 9:02 PM UTC
skinned rabbits
* When FATE and DESTINY Makes BELOVEDz-LOVERZ meet And when they Open up Their hearts & SOUL To show their ETERNAL AGAPE LOVE On display to the society and world It'll be an apocalypse moment of LOVE ****** The modern age we live in Where each person is hidden behind A fake mask of artificial shallow-ness Speaking parroted knowledge Of ineffectual education When LOVING dismantles Such faulty veils of life It'll be an apocalypse moment of LOVE ***** BELOVEDz-LOVERz always shower Joy and happiness to one-another Only they understand The hidden POWERS of LOVE Read between the lines of these words Understand what LOVER-Z eyes are saying Once LOVERz-BELOVEDz eyes Blink in synchronized ONENESS The world will wake-up from Their wasted slumber of Rat-racing success, power & wealth It'll be an apocalypse moment of LOVE ******* When the heart of flowers Will burn with LOVE Those times the dew drops Will emit insatiable LOVE fire This season When the Nature will nurture LOVE flowers to bloom In every corner of planet earth The sky will adore itself With a billion color rainbows It'll be an apocalypse moment of LOVE *
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Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 12:29 AM UTC
Apocalypse
I Jammed the pain inside, to wait for the defects to reside. Today strays and wanders away until it's stuffed down inside the void of discomfort. Let's roll our imagination onto light able paper, light it, and watch it burn.. See because that's what addiction does. It overrides your body latching on your inner artistry for its fuel. Pretty soon you become a machine, something mindless. Fasten your seatbelt because your on auto-pilot. Now the transactions of your body really start to inaugurate. Your internals no longer has what it takes to fight, to resist, so now come the alterations.The tips of your fingers go hand in hand with the tip of your tongue. How your saliva's lust for substance dismantles the chemical compounds. Your taste buds loving that all too familiar feeling. Your greed full blood consuming every inch of it. As the destruction slowly trickles down your throat your anxious. Then the finale comes, the moment you've been waiting patiently for the manipulation and overhaul of your brain and your reality remodeled, your home. In those seconds pain is never an option, never a thought. Your lost out at sea. But that's all it really is, seconds, minutes, sometimes hours, just a little more time to stick the dysphoria on the back burner. When in truth you've just deepened the scar and exposed it to infections. When it's gone your left with broken thoughts that feel unrepairable. Addiction doesn't just come from pre-packaged materials, they come from every entity you wish that blocks the truth out. They come from unfulfillment , pain, and soak themselves until you are left with no control. You have to fight, fight for your life. Face the music
0
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 7:21 AM UTC
An Addict of Addicting Addictions ( My view on addiction)
I Jammed the pain inside, to wait for the defects to reside. Today strays and wanders away until it's stuffed down inside the void of discomfort. Let's roll our imagination onto light able paper, light it, and watch it burn.. See because that's what addiction does. It overrides your body latching on your inner artistry for its fuel. Pretty soon you become a machine, something mindless. Fasten your seatbelt because your on auto-pilot. Now the transactions of your body really start to inaugurate. Your internals no longer has what it takes to fight, to resist, so now come the alterations.The tips of your fingers go hand in hand with the tip of your tongue. How your saliva's lust for substance dismantles the chemical compounds. Your taste buds loving that all too familiar feeling. Your greed full blood consuming every inch of it. As the destruction slowly trickles down your throat your anxious. Then the finale comes, the moment you've been waiting patiently for the manipulation and overhaul of your brain and your reality remodeled, your home. In those seconds pain is never an option, never a thought. Your lost out at sea. But that's all it really is, seconds, minutes, sometimes hours, just a little more time to stick the dysphoria on the back burner. When in truth you've just deepened the scar and exposed it to infections. When it's gone your left with broken thoughts that feel unrepairable. Addiction doesn't just come from pre-packaged materials, they come from every entity you wish that blocks the truth out. They come from unfulfillment , pain, and soak themselves until you are left with no control. You have to fight, fight for your life. Face the music
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5
Have you ever met that person Or those people Who touch your life in such a way That nothing is ever the same? Those who, When gone, Leave you tattered in pieces, Rotting into nothing? They turn their backs without one worry for your sake And you die inside. Every time they come up in life, A little piece of your soul dismantles from the rest And you are never the same again. I act solid as stone Cold and strong No fear, and no worry Only silence and concrete But image only exists to others Those of the outside world Watching, And you're blind. In actuality, In true, depraved reality, I worry about myself. I am afraid of who I will become And who I have became. All because of those ones Who have destroyed my entire being Time, and time again: I am not strong, I am not impenetrable, I am vulnerable and weak hearted, And I am not me. Transformed, now I stand A shadow of my old self Breathing but not living Moving and getting nowhere Silence without peace. And the sick reality is I did it to myself Because no matter how cold I act The foundation will still fall When you allow even the smallest nail To break through your walls, Even with good intentions.
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Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 11:57 PM UTC
Cracks in the Pavement
Lawrence Hall [email protected] https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/ poeticdrivel.blogspot.com Socrates on the Courthouse Lawn in Liberty, Texas “Strong minds discuss ideas, average minds discuss events, weak minds discuss people.” -attributed to Socrates, but no one knows Imagine if you will old Socrates On an old wooden bench on the courthouse lawn Playing checkers with all the other old men On an old picnic table throughout the day He lifts his old straw hat in the leafy shade With his old bandana he wipes his old bald head And sagely asks the old questions of us And through his dialectic dismantles old cant And that must be why, as the ages pass They’ve made for him a monument here in the grass (While passing through Liberty, Texas I saw on the courthouse lawn a marble slab engraved only with “Socrates”.) Liberty County Courthouse - TexasCourtHouses.com Liberty, Texas, Bed & Breakfast Hotels (usatoday.com) Socrates (Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy)
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Mar 14, 2021
Mar 14, 2021 at 9:25 AM UTC
Socrates on the Courthouse Lawn in Liberty, Texas
Effortlessly the great life-giver dismantles the frozen tranquility of the Night. First, the immaculate tears the blue-black curtain to reveal the crimson scars of daybreak. Soon after, her warming touch reaches the frosty moss on the trees: vapor arises. Seeming to defy gravity, her disk of pure selflessness rises in the sky, peeling yet further back the veil of darkness. Her oranges, then pinks, then finally hues of soft blue stretch ahead of her, as if to warn us of her impending, unbiased gaze. She keeps us and our friends warm just as she does the same for our enemies. She doesn't care who you are, where you're from, what you believe, whom you love, nor what you do at home when you think you're alone. She just gives all of us, each day, every one of us unbiased, unconditional, relatively unending sustenance.
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Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 8:28 AM UTC
Daybreak/Sustenance
# When Love's scalpel  comes towards my beautiful Gloria--   she leans in to it What is it that makes  this one   believe at such a tremendous  cost to to herself and yet, so many others turn and run.. turn and hide? I was built-- from the ground,  up to help  hold ones such as yourself,  up as the bright   healing light   of loves ache dismantles  the intricacies  of our once-necessary, life-built   war machines.. yes, my beauty-- down to the very  core of  your  foundation, where you can finally   have the chance      to become  rebuilt: from the ground's  true bedrock, up #
0
Mar 20, 2021
Mar 20, 2021 at 10:09 PM UTC
gloria.. in excelsis.
Confide in me she whispers, Peeling away each layer that traps his essence, Share your devious truths that ache to surface, Confide in me, Trusting her gestures he dismantles his barriers, Flooding her refuge with stories untold, He confides in her solitude.
0
Jun 2, 2021
Jun 2, 2021 at 2:05 PM UTC
Confide
☯ Full Lakota moon, unzips me from her womb & dismantles this love.
0
Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 9:20 PM UTC
iii.
in the words of a reverend and a King human salvation lies in the hands of the creatively maladjusted defamiliarize the chaos an absent-minded apparatus addling brain cells checks and balances proliferate a status quo of enmity and aggression that propagates oppression and dismantles genuine political expression for those outside the whitewashed coffin recognize the enemy in our own eyes as we eradicate the apathy that leeches liberty and fabricates freedom reformist rhetoric is too little too late revolutions are cyclical and ultimately infantile so fan the flames of rebellion destruction precedes creation raise hell and raze the system of enmity that pits 7.4 billion brothers and sisters against each other anarchy is order
0
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 1:07 AM UTC
A
In seventy three it all started A friendship, that's all that it was But, their friends could only see trouble They couldn't see it...and that was because There was Blood in The water all ready They were fighting, which they thought was fine Dan and Maria were in the tornado That had started in early Grade nine They dated for five years before college They promised to each other alone But, alone only meant "we're together" "At least....when the other's not home" There was Blood in The water...real vivid They're friends could all see it quite well These two  were together, but cheating The Blood in The Water could tell They split when they both left for college They said they'd stay friends while away But, long distance...it broke up their friendship I think it broke up in a day There was Blood in The water, you'd see it When these two got together again They would fight like the devil incarnate But their friends knew they'd hook up again They could all see the blood in the water They were doomed from the start...easily They were mad more than madly in love so, Their friends just stayed back,...just to see That the Blood in The Water was spreading They all knew that the next step they'd see Was Dan and Maria get married This was trouble with a capital T Two years passed and Dan, he got fired He took a new job in the east They moved down there, though they were still fighting Their life was just famine or feast The Blood In the Water was scarlet It was getting much redder each time The one who'd be hurt by their fighting Was their new son and that was a crime The house that they lived in was smaller Dan was drinking and that got him through The days and the nights of their fighting There was a storm coming.....we knew But, The Blood in The Water was missing For these two couldn't see what was there They were a storm of gigantic proportions And their fighting was not always fair Maria, she'd always go shopping Spending money she knew was all gone While Dan stayed at home and was drinking While he took care of their three year old son Their friends saw the Blood in The Water These two filling the waters with chum They could see a divorce in the offing They knew not when the end would become It was obvious right from the beginning These two were as diffenent can be Their friends knew it right when it started In the summer of seventy three Now with all of this Blood in The Water Choosing sides had to be done by all Were you Dan's friend or her's really truly How does one make that call? They divorced after ten years together It all happened with nary a fuss Dan moved home to go live with his mother No one was shocked...well, not us There'd been Blood In The Water forever There were fins following close behind We all watched as they marriage dismantles And as friends we feigned shock and were kind So, Beware of The Blood in The Water It will make all your water seem warm You can't see it while you are both fighting It's not there in the eye of the storm The Blood in The Water's a warning As a friend, stay away and get back For if you tell either one that you see it I'm not sure, but I think they'll attack In seventy three it all started A friendship, that's all that it was.
0
May 1, 2012
May 1, 2012 at 9:37 PM UTC
Blood In The Water
In seventy three it all started A friendship, that's all that it was But, their friends could only see trouble They couldn't see it...and that was because There was Blood in The water all ready They were fighting, which they thought was fine Dan and Maria were in the tornado That had started in early Grade nine They dated for five years before college They promised to each other alone But, alone only meant "we're together" "At least....when the other's not home" There was Blood in The water...real vivid They're friends could all see it quite well These two  were together, but cheating The Blood in The Water could tell They split when they both left for college They said they'd stay friends while away But, long distance...it broke up their friendship I think it broke up in a day There was Blood in The water, you'd see it When these two got together again They would fight like the devil incarnate But their friends knew they'd hook up again They could all see the blood in the water They were doomed from the start...easily They were mad more than madly in love so, Their friends just stayed back,...just to see That the Blood in The Water was spreading They all knew that the next step they'd see Was Dan and Maria get married This was trouble with a capital T Two years passed and Dan, he got fired He took a new job in the east They moved down there, though they were still fighting Their life was just famine or feast The Blood In the Water was scarlet It was getting much redder each time The one who'd be hurt by their fighting Was their new son and that was a crime The house that they lived in was smaller Dan was drinking and that got him through The days and the nights of their fighting There was a storm coming.....we knew But, The Blood in The Water was missing For these two couldn't see what was there They were a storm of gigantic proportions And their fighting was not always fair Maria, she'd always go shopping Spending money she knew was all gone While Dan stayed at home and was drinking While he took care of their three year old son Their friends saw the Blood in The Water These two filling the waters with chum They could see a divorce in the offing They knew not when the end would become It was obvious right from the beginning These two were as diffenent can be Their friends knew it right when it started In the summer of seventy three Now with all of this Blood in The Water Choosing sides had to be done by all Were you Dan's friend or her's really truly How does one make that call? They divorced after ten years together It all happened with nary a fuss Dan moved home to go live with his mother No one was shocked...well, not us There'd been Blood In The Water forever There were fins following close behind We all watched as they marriage dismantles And as friends we feigned shock and were kind So, Beware of The Blood in The Water It will make all your water seem warm You can't see it while you are both fighting It's not there in the eye of the storm The Blood in The Water's a warning As a friend, stay away and get back For if you tell either one that you see it I'm not sure, but I think they'll attack In seventy three it all started A friendship, that's all that it was.
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82
It's not falling in love that scares me, It's the falling out of it. You know, the feeling that creeps up on you, Like a tear in nyolon stockings, or an old knit sweater. Not a big obnoxious **** but a tiny run that eventually dismantles the entire garment, Leaving it forlorn and impossible to wear. Tossed aside in an old wastebasket, only to be taken out for reminicing. We're destined for that kind of falling apart, I think. I know it isn't fair, but it's inevitable, And the more we try to avoid it, The longer we pretend it doesn't exist, The harsher it becomes, catching us off guard. Slowly infesting the shadows of our doubts, Until it takes over, leaving us naked Face to face with the unwraveling truth: Nothing that lasts is beautiful, And nothing that's beautiful lasts. For, every time "I love you" is uttered, The fabric between us wears a little thinner, Exposing our flesh to the unforgiving coldness of leaving. Making us vulnerable in the worst kind of way.
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Feb 15, 2012
Feb 15, 2012 at 11:50 PM UTC
It's not falling in love that scares me
When we meet again It will never be the same In the arms of Lord Jesus From the moment you leave us Life can be so unkind When dementia takes your mind Slowly dismantles your world Mother to five boys and a girl But now in silence most days When I speak you have little to say You struggle more to take medication Memories of dad you no longer mention With food you now eat much less Carers now help you each day to dress It pains me each day with what I see As I can see, I'm slowly losing you and me Nothing will mend my broken heart You are my world that's falling apart When you leave it's to a better place Our Lord will give you a warm embrace Just remember when you look down up above I always cared and gave you a sons true love There is nothing I can do about floods of tears For in my heart forever I hold you dear Just remember mum through good and bad The happiness as well as times when sad For now by your side forever I will stay Until your starlight fades away Till one day all life comes to an end Poetry I will write till we meet again And until we meet again Life will never be the same 8/11/2015
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Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 9:32 AM UTC
When We Meet Again
Motionless I stare at my past as it enters the present. A rush of cold blood dismantles my stance as I shake within the bellowing air and mourn as the act unfolds.
0
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 5:39 AM UTC
Cycle
mind locked in fear repeating the same mistakes over and over slamming into the same dead end walls. one day a life altering suggestion is given, "go around the wall." fear dissipates to make room for something unknown; a new regime takes over my mind based on trust and hope that dismantles the walls.
0
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
slamming into walls
I've thrown myself off the cliff of uncertainty and I fall fast scraping into my shadows and anxieties; I hit my fears face. first. The Plunge of Faith comes hand in hand with the Purge of Eradication, Deformation, And Illumination; and with this pain- this process of being smashed open Broken, everything I thought I was Dismantles, and the mirror of the dark night is created; from which, I am able to see Everything I Am, already Was, and will always Be. Within the pieces of this dark night mirror, I am finally able to see, Me.
0
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 12:14 PM UTC
smAshEd OpEn brOkEn
A blazing inferno lights the never-ending night Each item burns slowly enough to watch it suffer But not enough to hope for it to survive First the shelves start crumbling to the ground Once filled with duplicate journals Divulged into pervasive memories Now replaced by eternal hellfire Then the carpet catches flames Burning through the soft yet opulent texture Erasing past footsteps that once existed The desk meets the fiery blaze Hours of work melting away into budget plastic Leaving no indication of the modest Only the charred Finally the bed starts searing As the occupant still dormant Scalds away any last memories And dismantles the memorable dreams As neighbors peep through the window And laugh with uncontrollable disdain While the room burns to the ground The next morning when the occupant wakes In the middle of his charred home He walks outside and greets his neighbors But nobody can tell whether he is almost dead Or almost alive Just scarred enough to seem as both
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Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 11:56 PM UTC
Soulfire
The cool breeze tickles my face, The sun plays hide and seek. There is peace in the air, A quietness that precedes the sunset. Most of the young baseball teams Have already left or, are winding up. The young basket ball players are still busy Running around the hoop and throwing the ball. Walkers and runners, people with strollers Are all there going around that mile long track, Surrounded by the tall Eucalyptus trees and Curious squirrels and the dogs that chase them. The usual Latino picnickers are less in number. Some are still barbecuing and eating on the benches. But there is one group under some tents, Singing with an all female mariachi band. The same dog walkers that I see every weekend, With dogs on strollers, in their backpacks, and walking on their sides, Are having an impromptu meeting with a bunch of their tribe, With their dogs eagerly expressing their opinions. There is a Dance 1 show from Redondo, With the young kids showing off their just acquired talent, Dancing asynchronously, but trying their best though, Sometimes, stopping and watching others. Batting cage is still active, the clunk clunk sound Adding background music to the park. People are still sitting around the pond, Ducks walking eagerly around them asking for food. There is a group of people busy eating, Perhaps members of the "Bigger than the Big” club. I watched curiously about their transition From standing to the sitting position. Shadows get longer, sun is bidding farewell, Dance team dismantles its stage, Young dancers with wild hopes, All start walking towards their cars. ©Bharathi Devi
0
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 9:22 PM UTC
A weekend walk in Wilson Park
The cool breeze tickles my face, The sun plays hide and seek. There is peace in the air, A quietness that precedes the sunset. Most of the young baseball teams Have already left or, are winding up. The young basket ball players are still busy Running around the hoop and throwing the ball. Walkers and runners, people with strollers Are all there going around that mile long track, Surrounded by the tall Eucalyptus trees and Curious squirrels and the dogs that chase them. The usual Latino picnickers are less in number. Some are still barbecuing and eating on the benches. But there is one group under some tents, Singing with an all female mariachi band. The same dog walkers that I see every weekend, With dogs on strollers, in their backpacks, and walking on their sides, Are having an impromptu meeting with a bunch of their tribe, With their dogs eagerly expressing their opinions. There is a Dance 1 show from Redondo, With the young kids showing off their just acquired talent, Dancing asynchronously, but trying their best though, Sometimes, stopping and watching others. Batting cage is still active, the clunk clunk sound Adding background music to the park. People are still sitting around the pond, Ducks walking eagerly around them asking for food. There is a group of people busy eating, Perhaps members of the "Bigger than the Big” club. I watched curiously about their transition From standing to the sitting position. Shadows get longer, sun is bidding farewell, Dance team dismantles its stage, Young dancers with wild hopes, All start walking towards their cars. ©Bharathi Devi
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37
cohesive depiction of fictional visions happily ready after nearly every collision dismantles your vision an array of another chances set a fort on my other nonos you go back to your tank I crawl back to my flag you say good bye I go solo
0
Mar 3, 2017
Mar 3, 2017 at 10:41 AM UTC
Exit Music
Battleground Dismantles Rusted Amor, Weakened Bones I Stand Alone, In This Wicked Zone Tearing Me Apart, Agonized Past Will I Last, The Last Of My Breed My Aztec Pride, Genetically Collide The Scorpion King, A Tragic Possession My Lands Under Recession A Sickness Depression, My Roots Under Attack, History Takes Us Back In A Time A Moment A Life Where My Ancesters Heritage No Claims, No Greed, The Land Of The Free Torn Ligaments In My Knee A Survivor Accomodated Provider Heavy Weight On My Shoulders A Soldier Ready To Go Anyday Anytime Inflicted In Crime Concrete Methods Abstract Ideology A Form Of Impartial Expressions Served Cold So Behold Stories Unfold Analytical Observations I infuse Careful I Never Lose In Combat Feeding Off The Weak Strains Crippled Dribbled Brains Like Jack In The Box Confined Blind In The Mind Behind Enemy Lines I Refuse To Submit It's Evident I'm The One Of My Kind Virtually Impossible To Define
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Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 9:23 PM UTC
Soiled, Soaked, Scarz
I am often afraid of the way my heart dismantles empty war zones. The way it forms artilleries, lines up its soldiers And decides to plan attacks on everything it falls in love with. The way it breeches the soil below it, Holds dear to it the sergeants of loss, Creates dissembling amongst individual cavalry's And plants land mines in itself that only my thoughts can ever walk over. The way it's destined to stop beating, and still transmits a blood That I already wish was killing me slowly. The way all the arteries around of it Never cease to stop the crave to ascend away from it. The way they Pull and pull, as their tugging increases the heaviness of every external Touch. The way the memory of intimacy cascades in its battlefield, and Is only implemented when love is destroyed in its clarity. The way the solidity Of 'happiness' is created by its blindness and movements. The way a hand Could reach upon it and violently caress it's edges without allowing It's substance to feel a thing. The way an empty transgression could induce Hell-fire in its perceived paradise and still allow it to exist in the flames. The way Hundreds upon thousands of men could lie with it in a pit of oblivion, And still be cautious of the way it still beats even after it's life is over. It is petrifying to think that my heart is an atomic bomb set to Possibly detonate over and over again And, I am often afraid that it never will... It may one day surrender, ... But I am often afraid, that it never will.
0
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 3:47 PM UTC
Untitled.
I am often afraid of the way my heart dismantles empty war zones. The way it forms artilleries, lines up its soldiers And decides to plan attacks on everything it falls in love with. The way it breeches the soil below it, Holds dear to it the sergeants of loss, Creates dissembling amongst individual cavalry's And plants land mines in itself that only my thoughts can ever walk over. The way it's destined to stop beating, and still transmits a blood That I already wish was killing me slowly. The way all the arteries around of it Never cease to stop the crave to ascend away from it. The way they Pull and pull, as their tugging increases the heaviness of every external Touch. The way the memory of intimacy cascades in its battlefield, and Is only implemented when love is destroyed in its clarity. The way the solidity Of 'happiness' is created by its blindness and movements. The way a hand Could reach upon it and violently caress it's edges without allowing It's substance to feel a thing. The way an empty transgression could induce Hell-fire in its perceived paradise and still allow it to exist in the flames. The way Hundreds upon thousands of men could lie with it in a pit of oblivion, And still be cautious of the way it still beats even after it's life is over. It is petrifying to think that my heart is an atomic bomb set to Possibly detonate over and over again And, I am often afraid that it never will... It may one day surrender, ... But I am often afraid, that it never will.
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Sometimes it's gentle and at times a hurricane sometimes it dismantles or a breeze in the plain... You just feel it and can hardly explain... Like Wind
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Jun 5, 2019
Jun 5, 2019 at 3:46 AM UTC
Love