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mvvenkataraman Sep 2012
Dream high always
Then only you can win
All great ambitions
Can be by faith realized

Hard-work lays the foundation
Hope builds the upper structure
Wishes do lovely decoration
Then life is strongly built

We must make movement
In a constructive fashion
Our mission must be success
That helps realize all our goals

In case we wait for just luck
We will never at all progress
Laziness will surely dominate
Our future is then doomed

We must work non-stop
With a golden motto
If our deeds are supreme
Our desires turn fruitful.

mvvenkataraman
Only by aiming ambitiously, We do acts very gloriously, By attempting seriously, We live on earth prosperously. Efforts do magic, Due to sheer logic, Idleness makes life tragic, So to hard-work, better to stick.
Andrew Saromines Nov 2017
Through a red stained window
I watched a friend lose their head
And coupled with regret I was filled with a hope
That maybe the blade would fail to descend on the neck of the soul in turmoil and end the berating.
The scent of fear finally fading
A sense of complacency
Come to a place that half matches decency
But it's deceit.
The blade calls and falls
Claws and hungers
Hands unbound, hold yourself still
Commence the sentence given in a voice of the same pitch and tone of the one coming from your throat
A traitor to your own
A blade buried home
A mind on the run
Forever doomed to roam
Part if me feels as if it is unfinished but the other part feels that is how it was meant to be.
Sully Nov 2014
The restaurant where I often eat has a raw cinderblock shell to show the world
It was painted a long time ago, when a new owner bought it out
It was meant to beautify, it didn't work
But I guess it's the thought that counts.


On the East wall, near one corner, is a rectangle of thick white paint
in a field of grime. Always fresh, always clean.

It is marred by a series of looping black slashes.
Stare at them for long enough, relax the muscles behind your eyes, let them slip out of focus
And you'll start to see letters
In the dipping and diving bands of black.
It's writing
An alien calligraphy
People as woefully uncool as you or I weren't meant to decode it

There is energy in the strokes though.
It's a performance frozen at it's moment of completion
You can see velocity, grace, excitement, a little fear, and a deft, darting contempt.
All of these things in the broad and narrow ribbons of paint.

When I'm in the right sort of mood, with a full stomach and a lazily sunfried imagination, with the heat from the asphalt making things in the middle distance quaver,
I can make out the dim shape of the artist.
See where they stood, the sweep of their arm
the turn of their head, wary of witnesses.
Days in and out, it goes on.
Bare white one day,
blackened, besmirched, beautiful the next.

The snowy rectangle grows thicker.

Why the owner never stakes out his restaurant one night, I'll never know.
Why the artist doesn't venture beyond that one little pen, or choose a new wall entirely
will remain a mystery, probably for all my breaths to come.

It's like some mad story penned by a poor, gibbering lunatic.
Each is doomed to a war neither can win, and neither can lose.
I bend double I'm laughing so hard

They take it so seriously.
But then, don't we all have our petty conflicts?
Mercurychyld Aug 2014
Demagogues of our society; daftly delivering
disarming delusions of decrepit delights.
Dealing in powder, rock and liquid death,
demurely doled out in droves to the
willing unconscious, dysfunctional deviants
of the land.

Blindly offering devotions, flaccid devotions
to plastic, white collar deities; giving new
definition to internal deformity, through
decelerated dejection.

Desperate and emotionally dismembered,
defrauded by quick, cheap decadence,
debauchery, and mental decay in many
deliriously delicious forms...pick a flavor,
name your poison!

Delegate your defect, as those with
doctoral degrees in defunct traditions
do deviously delineate their demented
designs...for our future.

DejaVu?
Perhaps, but in fact, it is we
who sniff, inject and drink up their drivel,
decidedly and dutifully depleted of
intellect by way of dubious data.

Duplicitous dullards...sanitize and
deodorize their fiendish lies...as we,
WE do nothing!

Not enough of us dumbfounded or
dumbstruck by their deceitful smiles.
Full of dread and deep dismay, by
the statutes of the day...I, for one,
will dream of better days, when we
shall defeat these diabolical demons.

But for now, down beaten, downtrodden;
we will continue to be denigrated for
the duration.
Clever dissection; dumb as they want you
to be,
disparity of all creativity...individuality...
and all of your rights...controversially.
Our disgruntled displeasure doomed...to
fall on dormant hearts...and we,
debilitated and daunted, lives dismantled,
are now forever haunted, by our freedoms
demise...by days we could question
their smiling lies.

Demagogues; Big Brother...such delinquents
dosing up the masses with a deluge of powder,
rock sedation and liquid elation...pick your flavor,
name your poison.

At the end of the day WE are ONE...duped,
defaced, defeated...and to continue on this
road, our final denouement will come
disturbingly disguised...as DEATH!



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights
Inspired by a movie I once saw.
CK Marrow Dec 2016
Muted color
On darkest day                                          
There was a light
to show the way

In dreary towns
My eyes were bound
To the misty lights
Up on the cloud

What is that phenomenon?
Where did it go?
The place we are seeking
We shall never know.

As our eyes droop down
And our smiles go flat,
It is easy to see
That we shall never go back

To that muted color
On that darkest day
Where that light to guide us
Showed the way

Immortality is over
We are now doomed
To succumb to our future
As our destinies loomed.

As we were shot down
To the pits of Tartarus
My fate was no longer
Ambiguous

We were forgone
Forever to roam
The pitch black world
Always to moan

That muted color
On darkest day
Was unfortunately one
To never stay
J B Moore Dec 2015
It's that time of year
So I guess I should confess,
Twelve months ago my greatest fear
Put me under great duress.

I started living my worst nightmare
In every single way
And learned to cope instead of hope
In waking up someday.

Still I've overcome the outcome 
Of being too depressed
By holding on to being wrong,
It wasn't love I guess.

But it's that time of year again
To curse my memories and dreams,
For a year ago I lost my friend
Who has yet to be seen.

I couldn't live without her,
But I haven't died yet,
I've come so far; as to what we are,
well, it's best if I just forget.

For I've overcome the outcome
Of being friends at best,
By holding on to being wrong,
 We were doomed to end, I guess.

So happy anniversary
For the worst day of my world
A time of great adversity
When I lost that perfect girl.

I thought my life was over
I thought that hope was gone
It blew my mind, I couldn't find
A reason to move on.

Still I've overcome the outcome 
Of losing too much rest
By holding on to being wrong,
Well, at least I try my best.

10/10/14
Isha Kumar Apr 2017
I don’t know where to begin,
where to start,
or where to end
and where to stop.

I don’t know how to tell you what’s on my mind.
There are so many words missing, words I can’t find.
Because my mind is a warzone, it is a battlefield.
And my shield is broken and my weapons are blunt.
There’s nothing and no one to protect me in a war against myself.

I scream and I scream, and my skin, my voice bleed and I hope I wake up and it’ll all just be a dream. But it’s not, it seems.
I feel shunned though I have been told I’m loved, and that those who’re around me, who surround me love me.

But I find it hard to believe it now.

Time flies so fast for me
or does it stand still, I don’t know.
Minutes to hours, hours to days.
And it’s getting difficult for me to see
beyond the fog that clouds my thoughts, my eyes.
So I put on a mask
And do the impossible task
Of waking up every day
as I struggle to put on the play.

But the problem never goes away.

I slowly start shutting myself out from people,
stop going to places that are crowded
all the while enjoying being shrouded in the dark of my room.

I feel doomed.

I don’t like to cook,
I don’t feel like reading a book.
All satisfaction is gone and
I don’t know what’s wrong.

I don’t enjoy the things I used to.

There’s no purpose for me,
I feel.
No motivation.
Everything is just white noise.
Everything is static.

So I stand here now,
tired and weary,
at a path
so dark and dreary
leading to different directions,
all the while thinking

**I don’t want to exist anymore.
Whiskurz Mar 2013
I wonder if the wind can hear
The cries from unmarked graves
People taken before their time
Doomed to be death's slaves

Those who've all gone missing
The stolen voices that remain
Trying their best to let us know
The purpose of their pain

They're buried in an barren field
Or under a giant oak tree
The places we pass everyday
With death we cannot see

Voices crying out hidden away
From deep within the ground
Hoping someone finally hears
Hoping they'll soon be found

Stolen voices are every where
The people that time forgot
A few are found and rest in peace
But most of them are not
JR Weiss Sep 2010
i wish i were drunk.
it's hot as hell and you dropped
another hint that it stopped
being fun for you weeks ago.

i did what i could
but what i could do
wasn't enough and
you suddenly decided
i'm not what you're looking for.
the used car in the lot
you just had to test drive.
yes, it's the right price
but god look at those dents...

i'm sick of the ****
the windows are painted shut
it's just me and the heat
trapped in this **** house...

i pour myself a glass
jack over ice
and sit staring out the window
wishing it bothered me more that you left.
lack of tears just prove it
doomed from the start

i knew this time would come
i knew it
hell
i caused it.
being happy too long is for suckers anyway.

the ***** helps my head
and the heat
sweaty and
suddenly bored with
brooding over your
tantrum

i find a cig in the couch
light it
and blow choking clouds
maybe my luck is starting to turn...
Emily Williams Mar 2014
Now you’re gone I see love is a garden
Naturally tender, it needs help to grow
Without constant care, soil will harden
A love needs to bask in the sun’s sweet glow.
Feed your garden daily. Water it, too.
It takes time and care, but soon it will bloom
The fruits of hard labor, laid out for you
A ripe beauty with the sweetest perfume.  

But be wary of the weeds that break through
And turn your sweet soil into a tomb
******* the life from your tender garden.
My garden dried up, there’s nothing to do
But melt in this desert, forever doomed
To grieve a love that’s lifeless and hardened.
I tend to focus on the dread, the darkness,
On Death, the dead, the daring, the dauntless,
The doomed, the ******, the sad and depressing,
The dim, the duped, the drones and distressing.
When it's overwhelming and I feel the world will eat me,
That's when I realize that I wasn't seeing clearly,
The world is pretty messed up,
Sure, that part is true,
But there's lots of positivity and amazing things to do.
You can crack a joke, then a smile, pass it along,
You can share some stories, share some forties and a song,
Make some memories, make new friends and live with purpose.
You need to find a goal in life, and devote to living for this,
Whether it's start a family or change a life or change the world.
you can start today by spreading love through joy and words.

Live to the fullest every day
And every day will be your truest.
David Nelson Mar 2010
Manhattan Lady

Strolling aimlessly through the streets of the city,
feeling sad and alone, looking for some pity,
thinking tomorrow will be, just another waste of my time,
going through the motions, another huge mountain to climb,            
running in circles, I keep falling for that same old trick,
and I continuously punish myself, with that same old stick,
I need to find something to inspire me, someone I can trust,
the city bus driving by splashes me, and immediately gets cussed,
why can't I find that someone, someone who really cares,
someone who will listen, not constantly changing chairs,
it seems as though I'm doomed, to feel love nevermore,
then walking along W165th street, someone is struggling with a door,  
I see this enchanting lady, her key not working right,  
across from Hilltop Park, the Audubon Ballroom said the flashing light,
I asked if I could be of help to her, she smiled and nodded slightly,
She said she came to dance here, she came here almost nightly,
I pushed and shoved and grunted, made sounds of all my might ,
finally it opened, it was dark inside, no dancing here tonight,
she smiled at me once again, and thanked me for helping out.
I told her I could sing for her, we could dance and shout,
I sang as loud as I could sing, we danced in circles like a carousel,
we laughed and we talked, and that night I fell,
madly in love with this lady, sent to me in a spell,
That night my life changed, no longer was my future shady,
that was the night I fell in love, with this Manhattan lady

Gomer LePoet...
Bean Feb 2015
It is funny what man has now become
Afraid and alone frightful and numb
Doomed to follow only one path
Just hold the trigger and fire
Easy when they're evil
No right or wrong
Devil and me
Painted red
Bang
I see
Blood under
My finger nails
I can see their eyes
Hollow and starved hope
Stare back at me from the mirror
Echos of gunshots pound my head
I think I could have done more dead
Because in the end our souls meet with fate
JP Goss Oct 2014
Sayest timshel from leaf and vine
You keep yours and I’ll keep mine

I vow not to be a shoulder to cry on
A balm to that Sartrean dis-ease

At which even he would shake his head.
Can you choose when things are weighted

By our stones a lapis and gold?
Of truncations of freedom to you

Even seem old? You, you step back
From the depths, from your behest

For know you are learned, deserved, and
White, your struggles aren’t so lead

Lament, can I, at no progress
Being the same in thought, though

Practice, marked indifference. We are
Not free, nor are we doomed

Rail against thyself and bear
And bite your teeth at the cord.
Rebel Heart Oct 2017
You built me up
Just to shoot me down
Breaking me past shattered
Shattering me beyond broke

Like Humpty Dumpty
Doomed to never recover.
Except the walls were my own
And you gave me the push

You made me feel
Like I was the Queen
But I was nothing more
Than a pawn
In your sick games.

How naive I must've been
To believe in the illusion of love
Your poisonous words
Like honey on my skin

Now I cut off the poison
And distanced myself from you
The feeling of losing a limb
Along with my mind

My heart aching,
My body shaking,
My lips yearning for you
Yet there's nothing left
For anything
Or anyone
So I scream
And scream
And scream
And scream

Till there's nothing left
But the lost tears of my childhood,
Your tainted things crashed against the wall,
A Shadow,
My demons,
And **I
Something stuck between the lost memories of first heartbreaks and losing innocence... Leave your thoughts, especially on how you interpret the last stanza I'm curious... ~BM
SøułSurvivør Nov 2015
though the mills of God grind slowly
yet they grind exceeding small
though with patience
he stands waiting
with exactness grinds he all.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


for the wicked there's comeuppance
yes, for plagiarist and troll
it may not be in present tense
but evil has its toll

for the greedy human tyrant
for the fat politico
the rich are as a vagrant
trudging through the snow

******, Pol ***, Stalin
Napoleon's Waterloo
in disgrace and fallen
into hell's external stew

the world is a millstone
it grinds fine, or so it's said
born here crying and alone
finally we're dead

don't envy the deceiver
or those who perpetrate
they'll be the receiver
meet poetic Fate

God has a sense of humor
those who blot society
may end up with a tumor
in the end will not be free

those who think they're "first"?
pity the poor fools
they're actually cursed
to be the *devil's
tools

there's no skating through this life
they will all be doomed
the scepter is a poison knife
the coffer is a TOMB.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 11/23/2015
"Vengence is mine, sayeth the Lord.
I will repay."

---
Christina Smith May 2013
KC
I just thought it would work...
that somehow despite the baggage,
we could still make it through...
but i was wrong...
like most often...
my arms just got so tired, my feet so sore, my back so numb
and I had to lay the baggage down
and you with it...
because you were never perfect and neither was I.
i tried to convince myself, but i fooled everyone

What do we do when this thing was doomed from the start, when both participants were always intended to leave?  It still hurts the same...but can i be blamed...
Doom,
We walk towards thy gate,
side by side, with Destiny,
and despair...

Doom, your benevolence is great,
to let the children outside play;
Yet the Sun
must surely go.

Doom,
more than Death,
am I not doomed merry dreams?
or Merry Times?

Doom,
are you so bad,
as to rupture the rose
that sprouts on sacred soil?

I think not,
for as I look to thee,
you are speculated as a tangled knot,
and just simplified as a misery to be..

But who are we to change fate?
Less war and evil rage on with hate?
Then god might come lessened and late
and spiral us into an perpetual state?

Who are we to change the Earth
that is ever more patient and disputable
than our clustered minds
like musicals?

Who are we to undo hell
to unleash the thieves and liars fell
upon the sacred land of God
whence fair and innocence mindlessly trod?

Who are we to shape the Sun
so that it exists and is never undone?
To breathe the open-aired light of day
to fool our minds, to celebrate and sway?

We are but peasants, mindless, and few
that from which a starry void did send us through,
and so we were, and so we are, from dust to dust,
doom is then, doom is there, and alone it cannot rust!
Judgson blessing Feb 2015
I can be anything except such a humbug .but the likeness of life made me the nut im .in fact i cant help vanishing and mumming such as clam or sap headed or something .when i come to look at  the ***** of it ,im up with terms: SOCIODREAMOLOGY and DREAMECONOMY .two words that i laid mine that it impart me ,as my quality of poor Socioanalist to jabber about, a deep perusal i meant.Sociodreamology:our actual trend of life and pregnanted, or our cast of mind or our virtue in fact constitute in sort;  the "common heritage" of all of us or our "common-social ".now we hang up to this 'common-social' up the whip of new "social-consciousness" drops along and shows in a new trend of thing.such a trend are the fact of some genius well bestowed gifted thoughtful minds .that from their dream conscious; anyway, in practice :teach or indulge us by act of behaving or writing or speaking {lecturing or social communication stereotype }the venue of new trend or tide ...altogether it heaves around by logic tact new world that bans down the old fastidious one we were up till then : philosopher,a novelist ,poet ,painter,journalist ,editorialist, nonfiction writer ,fiction writer,hack writer, song writer,script writer,movie,actor,fashion designer,cartoonist,lecturer,...and or sometimes pastor ;hold the searching log-fire of the social consciousness-awakening ;the real deepest buried aspiration of human-being.all human being or maybe some only have in our deep ***** what can shape the concrete meaning of our glory.but nevertheless the glory that lays in gloom ,faltered by our unawake .so the SOCIODREAMOLOGUE or people may lecture ,behave ,or write about new things ;but the element cast constitutes the sleeping vision that lays dangle down our unawake .but them are social awaker.whereas such new fact hit upon the seizure of humanity soon as uttered forwards ,hereto unknown .like and an ability of whirlwind dispatch we grab it frenziedly at its size and tame it as mellow as we were on know of it for life long .the sociodreamlogue seems discharge of of his duty then and will be up for the more of it .they are what makes our system of things grow more reasonably and more factual .nothing more except that is within our grasp escape their conduct. they give command the nature-culture ...for more that can not have the revelatory bowl  of savant .all things drive in but they are the lengthening shadow of only some thoughtful minds .more significantly as the perceive deemed to ****** ,some sociodreamlogues cast of mind is quite far beyond the grasp of understanding of most of their fellow citizens ,sometimes more than thousand years are  needed to catch with their mind .sinister fact ;some of them were grieved by some maso-sadonist or maniac in the fresh triumph of their oeuvre .some so may paddle in phantasm or ridicules ...it cant be anyway without a precedent of conflict of nerve ;the somehow game of casting a well intent erroneous appreciation on one other art .but if you are sociodreamlogue make sure your dream no alter our life such into doomed commitment, although drive us into green expenditure ......catch up with me for the second term:DREAMECONOMY
mikey Sep 2024
i confess you like a sin
my friends are getting sick of it
and i'm quoting you like Byron
and i’m just getting sick
like a song in my head
if god existed
like a bruise on my neck
we would have discussed it
so I just quote you again
and it's still obsolete
cause Byron's got nothing
and I'm doomed to repeat it
torrey Mar 2015
Does death have to be a tragedy?
Or is everyone just scared of the inevitable?
It's something we're all destined for, irrevocable
Forced to face the reality
That everything you see,
Everything you feel
Will one day be gone
All your friends, all your lovers
All you sisters, all your brothers
Will one day meet they're fate
Nobody knows when it's their date
But there's a beauty in saying goodbye
There's an elegance in the way we all
Leave this earth
Since the day of our birth
Our fate has always been sealed
Someday day never to be healed
Doomed to this impending mystique
Each way different, each way unique
Some see it coming, some never had a clue
Death has always been such a flirt
We'll all become fertilizer for the dirt
Just bones and some loose hairs
So count your blessings and say your prayers
Because death will never leave you
It doesn't forget about anyone
Believe me it never does
Death doesn't judge or discriminate
We'll all soon disintegrate
It's something we all have in common
Shouldn't that be comforting,
To end all the suffering?
We all will face it
But only few welcome it
We're all lost in this
Mad, mad, mad world
Wishing we were somewhere else
Wishing we had something else
So when we take our last breath
When we say our final words
We're forced to realize
We spent our whole life
*Wishing we were someone else
On a deadly day
Air-locked lungs
Severed air-links
By tyranny of time

Yester beauty lost in pesters
In the travail travel of life
Deeds, deals are doomed
Solo soul slipped out sad
Of static veins, bones and blood
Body is now nobody to anybody

Unlocked fast food counter;
The paradise of parasites
The stray dogs’ dish delight
The flying hawk’s eye-catch
Wholesome diet for the day

Stinking corpse threatened
Endangered epidemics
World worried and buried
The Esquire in a square
Of engraved box in a grave

Soul in hunt of sprouting seeds
Of vibrant hygienic genes
For long sustained body’s succor
Of its own make – sane or sin,
Of heaven’s choicest justice
Caitlin Fisher Oct 2014
Wise angels only hum and hide their wings
Watching silently from heaven of the trivial human things

They see us and they groan
Because we are doomed: everything is set in stone

Twisting an turning fate keeps us ever outside their hands
They stand on the shore of Rubicon but on the opposite side of the sands

They seek not a chisel or a knife to carve out our names
To erase us from the universe; to bathe us in flames

But they never seek to glorify the lives we live
They will watch us die

And though their cheeks be bathed with tears
For a little boy lost before his years

The threads of fate they dare not touch
The woven power is far too much

But instead they hum their soft sweet songs
Wondering if maybe the Fates were wrong

They feel remorse for the living but they care for the shades
Because each and every one of them have fought their own crusades

Wise angels’ eyes glisten with pent up grief
Because they can do nothing but shape our belief
Matt Jul 2015
A highly unmotivated
Individual

I think I'll go down
To Marshall's

To buy
2 pairs of shorts

And some socks

Perhaps some boxers  
Too

Maybe then I'll go read
The Bible in the nature park

America is doomed
Nazi Neyz Jun 2014
Sometimes you crawl
Sometimes you drool
Sometimes you cry
Sometimes you lie

When I repair my heart
I find you in a secret room
Like a ghost I see in gloom
Stop hunting me,

*You were just another love that's doomed
Jeremy Betts Sep 2022
I catch myself sulkin' in a dangerous headspace far to often
Hope fadin' to nothin' as I witness this slowly becomin' a trend
Does life's chokehold ever loosen?
Possibly but probably only after recordin' just one more win
Does the fall from grace to then through the bottom of my rock bottom ever soften?
How many of life's knockout blows to the chin can I take before smelling salts are no longer an option
They completely stop workin', then, try as you might I can no longer be woken but I'm not dreamin'
I hate to think it but is my inner peace destin to be found in a cheap coffin from some morbid discount bin
Only then activatin' when they set me in and my body begins the process of decomposin'
I'm not that lucky, I already know how it'll end
Only leads to a destination for those with the designation of unforgiven
Seems like I was made pre-broken but more often than not the why is an overpriced question, so it's rarely spoken
How is any of this benefital to my survival and progression towards a vaguely promised fairy tail endin'
Feels like regression made it it's mission to win the tug o war competition and it's lookin' like it did while barely tryin'
There's only so far I can bend, destined to give in, I'm sayin' when with a voice through a digital pen
Regardless who's payin' attention, wether anybody likes it or not there's no stoppin' or dodgin' what's comin'
If history's taught me anythin' it's that there's no way this isn't happenin', it's both out of my hands and out of the question
I won't beg you to listen, the dead end repetition has caused me to bail on even the lowest bar of expectation
I'm not strong enough to keep goin', I can no longer pretend, can't count on myself to treat myself like a friend
I've never known or at least have forgotten how to mend, now I'm the firey wreckage of a doomed hydrogen Zeppelin
A bad idea tried over and over again, full send, hand your beer to a friend, yeah, we all know that definition
I'm a multi fasited paradox, like water and oil mixin', or a Christian followin' what Jesus was actually teachin'
Good and evil coexistin' under the same skin so there's a constant battle ragin' within
Given advice but don't listen, cost of hate skyrocketin' but I'm buyin' in without even researchin'
Ignorin' every critical warnin' while needlessly explorin' the landmine riddled mess I'm in
My own reflection is a poor representation, I begin witnessin' the facade crackin' revealin' a twisted perfection
But perfection was never the requirement, but still a required lesson
I couldn't begin to tell you how many times I was a dollar short of payin' attention
Realization sets in mid tail spin, lost all sense of direction, my guidance system way overdue for an inspection
But once again no one gets in even though I'm desperately needin' a licensed technician
My problems baffle the best of list of repair men to the point they go searchin' out a new profession
I'm an occupational hazard, a coward, findin' the bad in every good situation, a magnet for confrontation
Then I start thinkin', maybe my malfunction is beyond repairin' so I focus in on my masks restoration
The projection of a sane person is important as to not draw attention to this infection of darkness that's spreadin'
An infestation of my past, present and future anxieties manafestin', fear on every station, runnin' into problems at every elevation
A hate hate relation, both comin' from and directed at the same person
Cursin' my own existence as every action taken to better this god forsaken life adaptation only sees the situation worsen
What's the solution? Where do I even begin lookin'? Is there a guide I could or should be followin'?
If I told you hope was taken all the way back before my creation I'm sure it'll have you thinkin' I must be mistaken
But I have no stake in or reason to lie, no exaggeration needed when the truth alone is so friggin frightenin'
Don't come a knockin', you wouldn't want me to invite you in, the den is set up like a ***** dungeon
Horrendous ***** happenin' within these walls, under my skin, you couldn't and shouldn't try to imagine
It'll break you down like a fraction, plus, I can't say that I can see the attraction
You're gonna have to come up with an explanation for that one again, start from the beginnin'
'Cause I thought I made the warnin' clear, extra bold between each quotation, reiderated in every caption
Let me give you some life changin' advice son, run, don't look back till you see kingdom come on the horizon
I'm not one to bet on, a hopeless lost cause, it'd do you well to move on

©2022
Daniel Regan Dec 2012
We as humans define our fears by that which we can’t control. Those things that stand just outside our physical grip but lay within the range of our persuasive comprehension. For control translates to security in whatever realm of life we seek, and many hold to that security as a lifeline for social and personal survival. The same survival techniques that have dictated our every move since the dawning of our time, but now finds reformed salvation in the egocentric world that we humans have so maliciously conquered. And though the means by which control is obtained changes from era to era, the quest for it still holds the same aggression and ferocity by which we have pursue it since before mans evolution. Holding complete disregard to everything in our path if only for the pursuit of this so called happiness. Perpetuated happiness that has been malevolently twisted and manufactured to fit the fantasies of those who deem it worthy. Regardless of the overt subconscious damage being done to those who adopt these practices. Regardless of our fellow man who gets forgotten and dismembered in the dust. Regardless of the destruction that is then committed upon the earth itself. All in the name of perceived happiness and an unwillingness to accept change into our lives. And though this phobia of what we cant control dictates the steps we take and mistakes we make, there is still hope. Hope for free thought and disconnect from the need of control. An acceptance of a blind destiny. Not a destiny for those unwilling to take the reins of life and influence it as they see fit, but rather one who understands that the reins are not theirs to control. And though control might be had from time to time, there is the awareness that it is fleeting. That it is always in flux and though the heavens might smile in your favor today, tomorrow they might turn their back to you all together. So rather then embracing that which we can control and discarding that which we cant, shouldn’t we be accepting that by which we cant control and forgiving ourselves for clinging onto the momentary continuity within our lives that is control? Or are we doomed to always put out mental, physical, and spiritual wellbeing on the line in order to obtain that transitory sedative that quells our animalistic needs?
Megan Parson Feb 2018
With a letter to my love,
Flies away my pet dove,
Unbiased by what it contains,
Or by the ink blots and stains,
Concerned only of her kin,
Lest she be doomed to a bin.

So is my lover and I,
As we stare up at the night sky,
No wall nor vault can keep us apart,
Live only to love, until you depart.

Live for me, you may say,
But not one day will I lay,
Alone sans your sweet embrace,
I, your steps shall retrace,
And live and love you till eternity,
Ends its days of bliss serenity.
Envisaging lovers in the 18th Century. Hope we all find true love, Happy Valentine's Day !!
diivandt Jun 2014
Stare
and
Stare
and
Stare
my eyes are dry and heavy

Wait
and
Wait
and
Wait
for something to breach the levy

but
Nothing
Nothing
Nothing
will ever set me free

I'm doomed to stay inside my mind
for all Eternity
this piece of writing in particular brings back a swell of emotions, profound and otherwise. it was written about my first psychedelic experience, a memory i hold very close to my heart for many reasons.
Peeka Jul 2014
I bowled three games tonight.
Possible paths to victory skipped rocks in my mind,
Until the ball dropped.
I won and lost.
My face flushed.
My skills wavered,
Such a tragic player.
A strike, a ball doomed to the gutter.
What did it matter?
When the lanes burst with laughter?
Friends, arcades, night bowling.
Fingers contorting.
Strange shoes and watching feet behind the line.
No passing it, no crime.
All win in the end.
Bowling alleys- hidden gems.
Jeremy Betts Nov 2024
{Political}

Just look around you and you'll notice that every day there's another suucker born
Another mother fuucker trying to pick around the thorn
But there'll never be breath blown through the victory horn and there won't be one to worn
Cause the new norm is news meant to deform not to inform
Leaving only torn fragments of real mixed with lies, a new truth is born
And it's one that defies the meaning of truth so it's armor for our thoughts and soul that must be worn

Cause it's forced upon every sense, attached to ignorance, illegal for an opinion to be drawn
It's a new dawn where rational thinking is gone, new laws signed in crayon
And it doesn't matter what paawn gets passed the baton when an election comes along
Cause it was years ago that this corruption spawn with a freedom slogan button on
And it's the divide that's grown from a line to a deep chasm of a wide canyon
That'll be our legacy, the legend we pass on till we feel defeat and meet the same demise that fell upon Krypton

It's crazy how we as a society love to single out one to staple blame on, makes it simple
But every man that's held an oval as his office might as well have been a floating carcass, dead in the water from the get go
Don't just agree cause I said so, that's half the problem yo, go do your own research bro
And know that they fear intelligence so go gather up a couple library's full
And don't jump in half cockeed like you only got one teesticle
Give it your all, fuuck being humble, we keep this shiit up we're all in fuuckin trouble
So burst this bubble, let it trasnform to rubble, forget being subtle
It's time to break huddle and be a factor in this much needed rebuttal
Screamed in the face paced on this ancient government scandal

But fuuck it. I'm only one person and not the one to change it cause I'm not perfect
But my imperfectly perfect plan sits perched in dust, never to be touched like it's deadly sick
Like a dripping diick, you pretend you don't have it 'til the graphic turns horrific
Then they say it's fake news but you're looking at the problem, starring derectly at it
But it's me that's ignorant and insignificant? I see it different you one percenter priick

I have a thought, just a notion, top of my head, tell me what you think
How long can we survive on the brink? On a doomed vessel destined to sink?
Holding the knowledge of where the boat is weak
Have known about the leak but putting off repairs till a metaphorical next week
We can see the old, rusty chain of command, it's obvious who's the weakest link
But if we the people aren't in sync (bye bye bye) we're all gonna drown in the drink
The spiked flavor-aid is laid out just waiting for evil to speak then give a sly wink
The nod to give the go-ahead once we're in to deep, swerling round the bottom of the sink

But there's more of us then them so I say we push back
Take the power that we hold off the rack, grow a pair of metaphorical baalls in a metaphorical nuut sack and attack
Put on Hatebreed as the soundtrack and dish out some payback
This is a call to all who can't just lay back like seats in a Maybach and watch the train skip off track
You don't need an almanac to predict this fact, the shiit storm is here, lead by a maniac
And if we don't take our country back then it's our fault, not theirs, that the future seems bleak and black
Let that neat little fact sink in and fill the crack like plaque stacked from years of no contact
Then get back to me when you see clearly that the peace tready that was eagerly signed so freely is actually a death contact

You can't dispute that once you've read the small print on the back of this sinister, sell your soul type contract
Gotta realize we've given to much slack but we do hold the rains, we must pull back
But mustn't hold back, can't afford to hoard the ball and record a sac
It's already fourth down and forever, standing in our own in zone taking the snap
A hail Mary is our only hope, but it might be crazy enough to be the key to the exact play we need to get the lead back
We lose this game and that's it, no respawn, no next season to fall back on, blap, extinction just like that
But fuuck that shiit Jack, I'll fight till my last breath escapes me, I ain't going out like that
Can't give up with my back turned to a population under attack
Cowering in a ransacked bomb shelter resembling the shrieking shack
Can't do it, no matter our differences no one deserves that
But I'm going to need all the help I can get to keep this flaming wreckage off the tarmac

So please, as soon as the Kodak filters been lifted and you see the mess that we've been gifted
You'll come join the million other kindred spirits that have enlisted
No longer tainted by politicians political poison, no longer frightened
Instead, an ability to sift through the ******* has been heightened
No blinders, just enlightened, a vision readjusted, a true path brightened
Natural senses sharpened like a tack then augmented, now you look frightened
All ready to attack and take our lives back, combat tested
And mother approved, well connected, you've been vetted
And we've all come to the conclusion that it's time this reign of terror ended
Way past time for this regime to be upended
Quickly removed and  permanently suspended
Only then can we drop the act, no longer a need to pretend we're not wounded
Only then can we be on the mend and begin the healin'

©2018
Here we go again. I've never reposted my own work but it felt appropriate...
Dry ,  gnarled arms and hands , dandruff in this old mans beard would be akin to wind carved mountain rocks . Our physicality doomed , slowly disappearing one grain at a time , to be wiped off the furniture a hundred years from now by a meticulous housekeeper ..
Copyright January 8 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved

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