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"dreadfully" poems
even a pencil has fear to do the posed body luckily made a pen is dreadfully afraid of her of this of the smile’s two eyes….too, since the world’s but a piece of eminent fragility. Well and when—Does susceptibility imply perspicuity,or? shut up. Seeing seeing her is not to something or to nothing as much as being by her seen, which has got nothing on something as i think ,did you ever hear a jazz Band? or unnoise men don’t make soup who drink.
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31.3k
Even A Pencil Has Fear To
I A playing raging guitar Of a kid with taboo thoughts The first cigar Who fired shots of dots... Don’t care and The revolt of caring Be scared and Be the scare! The acquaint of survival The wrath of revival Is everywhere Anywhere, not visible too The wrath is the root of trouble But the root of solution is not wrath II A desire so Excessive, Rapacious and Overweening Of wealth A pursuit so Excessive, Rapacious and Overweening Of status A need so Excessive, Rapacious and Overweening Of power A greed so greedy III Slaves of virtual reality To whom dictatorship is not real To whom liberality, brutality and unreality Is not real But the ticking clock is not sloth Tick-tock, Tick-tock Men who walk toward sloth Tick-tock, Tick-tock 'till old growth Tick-tock Loath Tock IV Sit idly-by low self-esteem Caused by lack of ****** Translated to scheme And unfortunate dream For achieving an alleged excellency Or a lengthy and empty possession What frenzy And all for envy V Advertising On bus stops On train stops On metro stops On everything that stops To make you stop And start Over-consumption Over-indulgence Over everything Obesity! Wealthy Withholding from the needy From what they really need Advertising gluttony VI A feature of abstinence Leads to a lack of extravagance But there are no angels Only fallen angels Or angels about to fall A feature of desire Leads to an higher feature Noisy or hushed It can't be crushed It's just fuel swallowed A tool for lust VII Pride is divergent A dreadfully enemy Or an inside allied Pride is divergent
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Mar 25, 2012
Mar 25, 2012 at 2:40 PM UTC
The Sevens
I A playing raging guitar Of a kid with taboo thoughts The first cigar Who fired shots of dots... Don’t care and The revolt of caring Be scared and Be the scare! The acquaint of survival The wrath of revival Is everywhere Anywhere, not visible too The wrath is the root of trouble But the root of solution is not wrath II A desire so Excessive, Rapacious and Overweening Of wealth A pursuit so Excessive, Rapacious and Overweening Of status A need so Excessive, Rapacious and Overweening Of power A greed so greedy III Slaves of virtual reality To whom dictatorship is not real To whom liberality, brutality and unreality Is not real But the ticking clock is not sloth Tick-tock, Tick-tock Men who walk toward sloth Tick-tock, Tick-tock 'till old growth Tick-tock Loath Tock IV Sit idly-by low self-esteem Caused by lack of ****** Translated to scheme And unfortunate dream For achieving an alleged excellency Or a lengthy and empty possession What frenzy And all for envy V Advertising On bus stops On train stops On metro stops On everything that stops To make you stop And start Over-consumption Over-indulgence Over everything Obesity! Wealthy Withholding from the needy From what they really need Advertising gluttony VI A feature of abstinence Leads to a lack of extravagance But there are no angels Only fallen angels Or angels about to fall A feature of desire Leads to an higher feature Noisy or hushed It can't be crushed It's just fuel swallowed A tool for lust VII Pride is divergent A dreadfully enemy Or an inside allied Pride is divergent
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87
Sometimes I wish that I wasn’t born with a tall, magnificent, towering horn Because I might be killed soon while my horn were torn. Every 8 hours, one of us is dreadfully killed, Only to make their dream fulfilled? If I were to say we’re nothing special, we’re just like you it’s just not fair. And if I say our horns are made like your nails and your hair. Would people still **** us or let us be free? Maybe they’ll laugh, as you can see. We’re neither for sale, nor for medicine or as your house souvenirs. I don’t want to be a display and stay there for years! How can it be a work that they’re so proud of? Then does that mean we’re just “stuff”? There are not many of us now, only 5 species left and yes it is true. White, Black, Greater one- horned, Sumatran and Javan too. However, I’m afraid that one day we’ll be gone, And by then whom will they look upon? I know by far that many of you had protected us, and gave us support. Though is it not enough to reach the hunter’s heart? Don’t you think that we’ve had enough? We have to stay strong and tough. This is why we need your help, to spread the word and show us you care. Help us make a difference, since we are considered as rare. I want us to all get together and to be a part of this. For a happy future that you’ll never miss!
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Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 8:39 AM UTC
Get Together! (Protect the Rhino)
A self confessed dreamer One that knew no bounds Can't keep his mind in tether It's always fleeing from the grounds He'd always been the dreamer Picking the shackles of reality Always hopeful of finding another A safe haven, an escape, a sanctuary Madness is thought of this silly little dreamer Forever bartering reality for a life of fantasy "He's moonstruck", said one to the other Obstinate still he chooses to wander free Alas one day, he stumbled upon a jewel Glistening, deceivingly within arm's reach But a beautiful game was played so cruel Fate wouldn't give easily what it could teach Glimpses of undefined beauty Himself drawn closer to this beacon He craves for this gem so madly Didn't care for what's to happen He descended to the surface One thing he just did realise That the jewel wasn't in its place But a reflection of another in the skies He looked up, he spun and he squinted Attempting this search he had just begun For a moment he found himself to be blinded For the jewel is indeed the sun He marvels at her beauty Till his eyes turned red and sore But he doesn't stop even briefly For she's the object of his adore He gazes at his newfound muse Till the day grew dim and late When she sets he would hesitate and refuse To return willingly to his ****** state Through promise he returns daily To catch his sun as she would rise For she fills him with aplenty And she listens to his forlorn cries He loves her much as she did him In each other's magic the two would bask As time flits by, the day grows dreadfully dim Too short a time from dawn till dusk The dreamer waits patiently As dusk turns to dawn The dreamer waits painfully For she will come then she'll be gone This rise is somewhat special For his love he had made known She admits the love is reciprocal For him her love had also grown But the dreamer will soon come to realise Out of reach his sun he can never kiss Her bountiful love will be the ultimate prize The prize he can never claim to be fully his *"Silly little dreamer feeding your childish dreams" "Silly little dreamer what fanciful notions you make" "Silly little dreamer you'll be ripped at the seams" "Silly little dreamer not every heart you just can take"* He pays no heed to what the others say He knows his chances run exceedingly slim He's walking on tightrope that's doomed to fray But what happens today is what really matters to him I am that silly little dreamer Whose feet is never on the ground I have chosen to live part of my life in wonder For it is you that I have found
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Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 5:59 PM UTC
Dreamer (I)
A self confessed dreamer One that knew no bounds Can't keep his mind in tether It's always fleeing from the grounds He'd always been the dreamer Picking the shackles of reality Always hopeful of finding another A safe haven, an escape, a sanctuary Madness is thought of this silly little dreamer Forever bartering reality for a life of fantasy "He's moonstruck", said one to the other Obstinate still he chooses to wander free Alas one day, he stumbled upon a jewel Glistening, deceivingly within arm's reach But a beautiful game was played so cruel Fate wouldn't give easily what it could teach Glimpses of undefined beauty Himself drawn closer to this beacon He craves for this gem so madly Didn't care for what's to happen He descended to the surface One thing he just did realise That the jewel wasn't in its place But a reflection of another in the skies He looked up, he spun and he squinted Attempting this search he had just begun For a moment he found himself to be blinded For the jewel is indeed the sun He marvels at her beauty Till his eyes turned red and sore But he doesn't stop even briefly For she's the object of his adore He gazes at his newfound muse Till the day grew dim and late When she sets he would hesitate and refuse To return willingly to his ****** state Through promise he returns daily To catch his sun as she would rise For she fills him with aplenty And she listens to his forlorn cries He loves her much as she did him In each other's magic the two would bask As time flits by, the day grows dreadfully dim Too short a time from dawn till dusk The dreamer waits patiently As dusk turns to dawn The dreamer waits painfully For she will come then she'll be gone This rise is somewhat special For his love he had made known She admits the love is reciprocal For him her love had also grown But the dreamer will soon come to realise Out of reach his sun he can never kiss Her bountiful love will be the ultimate prize The prize he can never claim to be fully his *"Silly little dreamer feeding your childish dreams" "Silly little dreamer what fanciful notions you make" "Silly little dreamer you'll be ripped at the seams" "Silly little dreamer not every heart you just can take"* He pays no heed to what the others say He knows his chances run exceedingly slim He's walking on tightrope that's doomed to fray But what happens today is what really matters to him I am that silly little dreamer Whose feet is never on the ground I have chosen to live part of my life in wonder For it is you that I have found
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68
Dim down the lights This way you won't have to see me cry Turn my body around My eyes will tell you stories you can't bear to hear And do ignore me in the morning I am so dreadfully loud But am I okay? Are you alright? Never again did those words fall Dripping with honey Sticky with longing Down from your lips To kiss my porcelain skin Never again did you care I remember so vividly The turning of the tides It came flooding, that Autumn rainfall And all that was left for us to do All we did All we managed Was drown.
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Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 1:26 PM UTC
Will You Leave The Lights On When You Leave Me?
I come from a dysfunctional family right from the very start, I come from a dysfunctional family, because not one of them had a warm heart, I witnessed sister against sister, brother against brother, two parent's that always drank ***** when they weren't arguing it is because they were a fast a sleep in their bed room. I was born into a dysfunctional family, where no love was ever shown to me, I saw my parent's send their oldest son out into the cold world at 23. When my oldest sister turned 17, she left my parent's house because she could not take it see each other tearing each other apart, The youngest sister what can I say, she started to live in sin with a man twice her age, but at least they made marriage work, than what I would like to say, is she happy this I don't know, she says she is but I don't know, they were separated for some time, because all they did was argue just like our parent's did all the time. I stayed in my parent's apartment until I was 18 year old, so I could legally leave, I did the first of two mistakes I married a man who really did not love me. The only good thing I could say about him he let me see the world, but he was dreadfully cruel to me and I had leave him for my own good. Now both my mother and father are dead, so is oldest brother and sister, I don't know which way they were judged and nor if they went to heaven. I live my life in a quiet way, no one do I bother I am this way for a reason because I all alone, because all of those men I have loved have already been called home.
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Oct 6, 2011
Oct 6, 2011 at 6:57 PM UTC
I COME FROM A DYSFUNCTIONAL FAMILY
I come from a dysfunctional family right from the very start, I come from a dysfunctional family, because not one of them had a warm heart, I witnessed sister against sister, brother against brother, two parent's that always drank ***** when they weren't arguing it is because they were a fast a sleep in their bed room. I was born into a dysfunctional family, where no love was ever shown to me, I saw my parent's send their oldest son out into the cold world at 23. When my oldest sister turned 17, she left my parent's house because she could not take it see each other tearing each other apart, The youngest sister what can I say, she started to live in sin with a man twice her age, but at least they made marriage work, than what I would like to say, is she happy this I don't know, she says she is but I don't know, they were separated for some time, because all they did was argue just like our parent's did all the time. I stayed in my parent's apartment until I was 18 year old, so I could legally leave, I did the first of two mistakes I married a man who really did not love me. The only good thing I could say about him he let me see the world, but he was dreadfully cruel to me and I had leave him for my own good. Now both my mother and father are dead, so is oldest brother and sister, I don't know which way they were judged and nor if they went to heaven. I live my life in a quiet way, no one do I bother I am this way for a reason because I all alone, because all of those men I have loved have already been called home.
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32
going to the horror films at ten years old i wanted to be bitten by the vampire ladies you know the ones red brides from the netherworlds with heaving ******* divinities of evil with that dah look in silky white gowns a little messy from sleeping in the dirt culture vulture goth girls with upside down crosses slags all gauzy bats in the belfry deranged but after all they where dead and dreadfully appealing and I'm pretty fussy so what the hell they walked like floats in marshy air never touching the ground above frozen dark crypt terrains with twinkly bare feet and black high glossed toenails staring out of blood spilled eyes drooling cloudy mouth hollows and a yearning hungry countenance encouraging me to get closer to bite me all over pierce me with needly fangs puncturing little holes in tender me making me leak like bad plumbing until i sloped into the bog below of course, i was panicked all trembly but i had a big one for these evil shadowy ******* too so i thought yes no yes no yes no are you gonna **** me? i asked they drooled ooow okay, i thought is it gonna hurt? they shook there heads yes! and drooled real bad? i inquired further ah ha they lingered glaring drooling i guess, waiting for me to make up my mind oh okay anything for you you dark dreamy girls dilapidated queens of hell with ballet derrières "down and down I go round and round I go in a spin, lovin' the spin I'm in under the old black magic called love" after all at ten years old, i already knew i was a horror ***** and just a little turned on
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Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 11:58 AM UTC
HORROR ***** ...IM JUST A LITTLE TURNED ON
going to the horror films at ten years old i wanted to be bitten by the vampire ladies you know the ones red brides from the netherworlds with heaving ******* divinities of evil with that dah look in silky white gowns a little messy from sleeping in the dirt culture vulture goth girls with upside down crosses slags all gauzy bats in the belfry deranged but after all they where dead and dreadfully appealing and I'm pretty fussy so what the hell they walked like floats in marshy air never touching the ground above frozen dark crypt terrains with twinkly bare feet and black high glossed toenails staring out of blood spilled eyes drooling cloudy mouth hollows and a yearning hungry countenance encouraging me to get closer to bite me all over pierce me with needly fangs puncturing little holes in tender me making me leak like bad plumbing until i sloped into the bog below of course, i was panicked all trembly but i had a big one for these evil shadowy ******* too so i thought yes no yes no yes no are you gonna **** me? i asked they drooled ooow okay, i thought is it gonna hurt? they shook there heads yes! and drooled real bad? i inquired further ah ha they lingered glaring drooling i guess, waiting for me to make up my mind oh okay anything for you you dark dreamy girls dilapidated queens of hell with ballet derrières "down and down I go round and round I go in a spin, lovin' the spin I'm in under the old black magic called love" after all at ten years old, i already knew i was a horror ***** and just a little turned on
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71
Collectively dismal Dreadfully sinful Covered in tinsel Was a sunken dimple A quick nibble Elongated ****** Playfully twiddle Covered in spittle Quick to belittle Before her acquittal It seemed so brittle Quite noncommittal
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Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 4:01 PM UTC
Honeymoon Is Over
Dostoyevsky said, “your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing.” I've felt rage seething in my chest for as long as I can remember. I've felt as his talons ripped open my sternum, digging for a place to call home. this rage has nestled deep into my ribcage, devouring my will to survive while carelessly residing within my nightmares. I've surrendered to this forsaken depression fury has vacated deep in the confines of my irises - despite witnessing myself across grey-tinted glasses; a smoldering storm rippling miasma throughout my body, manipulating my hands into a devout pyromaniac; suffocating every chance to heal. I've known nothing but bitterness congesting my heart. My dreams were burdened dreadfully with the stench of wrath. it mutilated my arms; burrowing into capillaries, and asphyxiating my habit to vanish. This incessant sin I've endured has brought me to my knees, existing only to ***** out my ability to be a mortal in an unforgiving universe. I am not a cosmic metaphor, the iron residing underneath my skin has become impenetrable. I am adorned with stillness while this betrayal has bloomed into a supernova. the things in which I lack have ignited into an endlessly violent explosion - Atomizing my bones, swirling stardust into a forlorn emptiness. A world that was held by the unfaltering resistance I persevered against, it has ravaged my memories, my moribund existence trembled; shivering from the growl of the recoil - the remnants of creation kissed abysmal lips within the faraway distance of a boundless abyss, raining tears for the last time as the destruction leaves a life void of meaning. The last words ever heard in this universe spoke softly as if to lull the existential bereft into a long hiatus - "This was all for nothing, just as destitute as this vacant nothingness, human life is ill-fated to be star-crossed and powerless."
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Sep 25, 2024
Sep 25, 2024 at 6:51 PM UTC
Cosmic Metaphor
Dostoyevsky said, “your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing.” I've felt rage seething in my chest for as long as I can remember. I've felt as his talons ripped open my sternum, digging for a place to call home. this rage has nestled deep into my ribcage, devouring my will to survive while carelessly residing within my nightmares. I've surrendered to this forsaken depression fury has vacated deep in the confines of my irises - despite witnessing myself across grey-tinted glasses; a smoldering storm rippling miasma throughout my body, manipulating my hands into a devout pyromaniac; suffocating every chance to heal. I've known nothing but bitterness congesting my heart. My dreams were burdened dreadfully with the stench of wrath. it mutilated my arms; burrowing into capillaries, and asphyxiating my habit to vanish. This incessant sin I've endured has brought me to my knees, existing only to ***** out my ability to be a mortal in an unforgiving universe. I am not a cosmic metaphor, the iron residing underneath my skin has become impenetrable. I am adorned with stillness while this betrayal has bloomed into a supernova. the things in which I lack have ignited into an endlessly violent explosion - Atomizing my bones, swirling stardust into a forlorn emptiness. A world that was held by the unfaltering resistance I persevered against, it has ravaged my memories, my moribund existence trembled; shivering from the growl of the recoil - the remnants of creation kissed abysmal lips within the faraway distance of a boundless abyss, raining tears for the last time as the destruction leaves a life void of meaning. The last words ever heard in this universe spoke softly as if to lull the existential bereft into a long hiatus - "This was all for nothing, just as destitute as this vacant nothingness, human life is ill-fated to be star-crossed and powerless."
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10
When words fail and the song dies in your soul The soft cushion weighs heavy, threadbare, when Dust invites the attic attack to the last memory stroll A fretful protest march accompanying the wood grained heart You noticed the space in short supply, with tight breath, the Expert bargaining skills have begun, bypassing The weak hearts, those that are still journeying Their healing held up in tight palms of moistoned skin And the slide into another day begins, dreadfully With arched pain barriers drumming their morning Beat. Occupational hazard was on the rampage Cracking skull caps from their skinned residence I shone a light into the acute grey tone of those Hearts, those whose shapes lost conviction as the light Shot arrowed tongues from the deaf interiors of wise men Out on the town of feeble failings, they held nothing as their companion
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Mar 2, 2013
Mar 2, 2013 at 7:15 AM UTC
The Lost
I’ve got an urgent appointment I’m absolutely all of a rush I have to get there quickly And I'm starting to feel a hot flush. Hunting around with my shirt hanging out It’s missing! It’s missing! I let out a shout. Whenever I have to dress for a date If ever I get there I'm dreadfully late It’s not punctuality that comes as a shock It’s that I always manage to lose a sock. ©JRW2014
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Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 3:00 PM UTC
The Errant Hose
Tainted by the blood moon, I lay awake Night air swept through my window and I escaped What’s over the hill and behind the shadow? Dreadfully that answer I already know Nothing worth seeing, the adventures over Some cattle fields and a lonesome hollow But if only for a moment or so I could remember the wonder of my childlike soul I tossed my cold feet to the floor Placed upon my shoulders that afghan, never worn Set out to the hills off in the distance That feeling of adrenaline, an adventures mistress The old 2 lane route 302 Had became an untraveled pave way at quarter to 2 She spoke my name and the trees listened Walnuts fell on the old tin roof of Mr.  Simmons *“Look beyond Alone, There’s more to this road than what you think you know Keep walking now you’re almost there No longer will you be afraid whence you’re spared.”* What was the night saying to me? I wasn’t sure because it was then that I couldn’t see So travelling the road I did proceed Looked to the finish it wasn’t far to be My pace was in scurry like atop was gold But I found soon out this wasn’t so Nothing was there waiting I need Another lonely place as silent as she The rolling meadows done nothing for me Like a blind man being amongst the sea But in the distance it came crashing on me And my eyes were opened immediately My house was burning that I could see And everyone else’s on the street Dying alone snuggled in bed Smoke inhalation now they're dead I watched the night turn to red **Like the blood moon had tainted my soul Fire roamed the street that once was home** All the neighbors that wouldn’t speak to me Charred to death and forever they sleep I guess it was intuition to leave It seems like maybe the night had saved me And here I sit alone again Thinking of that autumn dark, I remembered my sin Crystal **** on a wild weekend I killed them all and no one knows The blood moons curse on my soul
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Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 9:33 AM UTC
The Blood Moon's Curse On My Childlike Soul
Tainted by the blood moon, I lay awake Night air swept through my window and I escaped What’s over the hill and behind the shadow? Dreadfully that answer I already know Nothing worth seeing, the adventures over Some cattle fields and a lonesome hollow But if only for a moment or so I could remember the wonder of my childlike soul I tossed my cold feet to the floor Placed upon my shoulders that afghan, never worn Set out to the hills off in the distance That feeling of adrenaline, an adventures mistress The old 2 lane route 302 Had became an untraveled pave way at quarter to 2 She spoke my name and the trees listened Walnuts fell on the old tin roof of Mr.  Simmons *“Look beyond Alone, There’s more to this road than what you think you know Keep walking now you’re almost there No longer will you be afraid whence you’re spared.”* What was the night saying to me? I wasn’t sure because it was then that I couldn’t see So travelling the road I did proceed Looked to the finish it wasn’t far to be My pace was in scurry like atop was gold But I found soon out this wasn’t so Nothing was there waiting I need Another lonely place as silent as she The rolling meadows done nothing for me Like a blind man being amongst the sea But in the distance it came crashing on me And my eyes were opened immediately My house was burning that I could see And everyone else’s on the street Dying alone snuggled in bed Smoke inhalation now they're dead I watched the night turn to red **Like the blood moon had tainted my soul Fire roamed the street that once was home** All the neighbors that wouldn’t speak to me Charred to death and forever they sleep I guess it was intuition to leave It seems like maybe the night had saved me And here I sit alone again Thinking of that autumn dark, I remembered my sin Crystal **** on a wild weekend I killed them all and no one knows The blood moons curse on my soul
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48
In a locked up abandoned room, stands dead people, all worn and torn, all helpless and scarcely unknown. They weep trickles of tears from their eyes, soaking down to their cheeks, innocent faces and scarred bodies, invisible to the world and their minds dreadfully drilled, with thoughts of insanity, as they rot inhumanely. Open wounds and jars of acid, the key lays in one of them, torturous and hardly discredited It's deadly, and extremely rapid. Trapped and held back, suppressed and feelings of soul lack, where the crows die at 3:00am, it's satanic, dark, dull and dim. Hands burn and screams cry, the jar is black, so they hadn't know in which the key lie. The secrets within, dark, deadly and too hard to ****** swim. Weak and demolished, some people collapse in pain and satanic craze, the haze, the daze, thoust peculiar trickles of red rain drops from the ceiling above, rose wine red, depth is dark and foul like jin It's ****** up... Our ghosts keep all kinds of secrets, with their hands behind their back and face hidden and covered in black, suppression creates a place of torturous days and weeping eyes of display... Isolation makes it worse, it creates a lonesome curse... Treat your ghost well, then the dark won't take over, and make it dreaded and unwell... Tell... All your secrets within
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Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 3:31 AM UTC
The secrets within
Something in us shivers Slides up our throat Slick Tasting like metal, crushed rain-bugs we can almost smell Cascading along our nerves They are so dreadfully taut They feel like a stranger's body In the dark pub, in the corner with few couples dancing to a jukebox.
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Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 3:48 PM UTC
Jukebox
I don't know what it is about bringing god into the most intimate times of your life, but I couldn't ignore the bible that was spread open on your nightstand that night. During the space between whenever you rolled off of me and rolled back on, I was granted time to think about how I ended up in this dreadfully exposed position (literally, you told me not to put my clothes back on). So I thought about how I had convinced myself that you were as religious as you claimed to be, and that this would be nothing more than a simple movie date with a little cuddling. But whenever you removed your arm from around me and stood from the couch beside me, I knew this was going to be far from it. So I crawled into bed beside you and felt your hands search my body in the dark as though you were in a temple on a quest to find a golden cross. And you found it, radiating warmth between two stone pillars that you couldn't resist digging your nails into. And soon enough, the walls came crumbling down and you begged me not to make a sound as you sank your teeth into my neck as though you were taking a bite of the forbidden fruit for the very first time. And I must have tasted sweet because your tongue shortly followed to lap up all the salty juices. But you were determined to tear the temple down because you knew how sacrilegious it would be to leave it standing, so you asserted your strength to the already crumbling pillars and walls and heard and watched them fall around you in all their holy glory. But it wasn't until I was lying beneath you in a pile of dust that the bible beside me spoke. The pages parted like the red sea and the letters lept from the page like the egyptians and I was shaking as though Moses himself was standing before me. But you didn't notice when you returned, because your goal wasn't to build the temple walls. So you climbed back on top of me, rolled over, and went to sleep.
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Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 12:23 AM UTC
Sacrilegious
I don't know what it is about bringing god into the most intimate times of your life, but I couldn't ignore the bible that was spread open on your nightstand that night. During the space between whenever you rolled off of me and rolled back on, I was granted time to think about how I ended up in this dreadfully exposed position (literally, you told me not to put my clothes back on). So I thought about how I had convinced myself that you were as religious as you claimed to be, and that this would be nothing more than a simple movie date with a little cuddling. But whenever you removed your arm from around me and stood from the couch beside me, I knew this was going to be far from it. So I crawled into bed beside you and felt your hands search my body in the dark as though you were in a temple on a quest to find a golden cross. And you found it, radiating warmth between two stone pillars that you couldn't resist digging your nails into. And soon enough, the walls came crumbling down and you begged me not to make a sound as you sank your teeth into my neck as though you were taking a bite of the forbidden fruit for the very first time. And I must have tasted sweet because your tongue shortly followed to lap up all the salty juices. But you were determined to tear the temple down because you knew how sacrilegious it would be to leave it standing, so you asserted your strength to the already crumbling pillars and walls and heard and watched them fall around you in all their holy glory. But it wasn't until I was lying beneath you in a pile of dust that the bible beside me spoke. The pages parted like the red sea and the letters lept from the page like the egyptians and I was shaking as though Moses himself was standing before me. But you didn't notice when you returned, because your goal wasn't to build the temple walls. So you climbed back on top of me, rolled over, and went to sleep.
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49
..And I probably shouldn't have used my real name But that's the fool inside of me I walk home at three in the morning In a white fedora, black suit, and winged tipped shoes with a pointed toe Accompanied by a lone trumpet Shrieking a wailing lonesome tune As I walk slyly, cigarette in hand In a strange off beat step Through dark alleys, side streets, And ***** parks I give a *** a fifty dollar bill And wait, Stop there! A scumbag is assaulting a woman And I of course save the day Suddenly I come to, crawling to my toilet A horrifying sting of mace I dreadfully check my messages And in ***** covered disgrace.. I despise, My big dumb tequila poisoned face
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Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 3:00 AM UTC
My Big Dumb Tequila Poisoned Face..
I'm dreadfully afraid of silence, so I play the music loud in my stereo-- falling asleep with the ringing in my ears, like the distant echo of heaven.
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Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 12:20 AM UTC
Ears Ringing
Out in the West Texas town of El Paso I fell in love with a Mexican girl. Night-time would find me in Rosa's cantina Music would play and Felina would whirl. Blacker than night were the eyes of Felina Wicked and evil while casting a spell. My love was deep for this Mexican maiden I was in love but in vain, I could tell. One night a wild young cowboy came in Wild as the West Texas wind. Dashing and daring A drink he was sharing with wicked Felina The girl that I loved. So in anger I Challenged his right for the love of this maiden down went his hand for the gun that he wore. My challenge was answered in less than a heart-beat, the handsome young stranger lay dead on the floor. Just for a moment I stood there in silence, shocked by the foul evil deed I had done. Many thoughts raced through my mind as I stood there I had but one chance and that was to run. Out through the back door of Rosa's I ran Out where the horses were tied. I caught a good one It looked like it could run Up on its back And away I did ride just as fast as I Could from the West Texas town of El Paso Out to the bad-lands of New Mexico. Back in El Paso my life would be worthless Everything's gone in life, nothing is left. It's been so long since I've seen the young maiden My love is stronger than my fear of death. I saddled up and away I did go Riding alone in the dark. Maybe tomorrow A bullet may find me Tonight nothing's worse than this Pain in my heart. And at last here I Am on the hill overlooking El Paso I can see Rosa's cantina below My love is strong and it pushes me onward Down off the hill to Felina I go. Off to my right I see five mounted cowboys, off to my left ride a dozen or more. Shouting and shooting I can't let them catch me, I have to make it to Rosa's back door. Something is dreadfully wrong for I feel A deep burning pain in my side. Though I am trying To stay in the saddle I'm getting weary Unable to ride But my love for Felina is strong and I rise where I've fallen Though I am weary I can't stop to rest I see the white puff of smoke from the rifle I feel the bullet go deep in my chest From out of nowhere Felina has found me Kissing my cheek as she kneels by my side Cradled by two loving arms that I'll die for One little kiss and Felina, good-bye
0
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 1:35 AM UTC
El Paso (By Marty Robbins DROP WHAT YOU ARE DOING AND LISTEN TO THIS SONG)
Out in the West Texas town of El Paso I fell in love with a Mexican girl. Night-time would find me in Rosa's cantina Music would play and Felina would whirl. Blacker than night were the eyes of Felina Wicked and evil while casting a spell. My love was deep for this Mexican maiden I was in love but in vain, I could tell. One night a wild young cowboy came in Wild as the West Texas wind. Dashing and daring A drink he was sharing with wicked Felina The girl that I loved. So in anger I Challenged his right for the love of this maiden down went his hand for the gun that he wore. My challenge was answered in less than a heart-beat, the handsome young stranger lay dead on the floor. Just for a moment I stood there in silence, shocked by the foul evil deed I had done. Many thoughts raced through my mind as I stood there I had but one chance and that was to run. Out through the back door of Rosa's I ran Out where the horses were tied. I caught a good one It looked like it could run Up on its back And away I did ride just as fast as I Could from the West Texas town of El Paso Out to the bad-lands of New Mexico. Back in El Paso my life would be worthless Everything's gone in life, nothing is left. It's been so long since I've seen the young maiden My love is stronger than my fear of death. I saddled up and away I did go Riding alone in the dark. Maybe tomorrow A bullet may find me Tonight nothing's worse than this Pain in my heart. And at last here I Am on the hill overlooking El Paso I can see Rosa's cantina below My love is strong and it pushes me onward Down off the hill to Felina I go. Off to my right I see five mounted cowboys, off to my left ride a dozen or more. Shouting and shooting I can't let them catch me, I have to make it to Rosa's back door. Something is dreadfully wrong for I feel A deep burning pain in my side. Though I am trying To stay in the saddle I'm getting weary Unable to ride But my love for Felina is strong and I rise where I've fallen Though I am weary I can't stop to rest I see the white puff of smoke from the rifle I feel the bullet go deep in my chest From out of nowhere Felina has found me Kissing my cheek as she kneels by my side Cradled by two loving arms that I'll die for One little kiss and Felina, good-bye
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12
hollow o my soul, lost them down the hole. chanting with them wall, i wish time could stall. hallucination at its best, yet my mind did not rest. recreating some scenes, hysterical but dreadfully keen.
0
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 6:39 AM UTC
hallucination
Entering a world composed of surreal images My mind must twist itself into difficult yoga poses Attempting comprehension of the madness Black aprons meander in rhythmic gyrations Under harsh soul stealing luminescence Lubricated with coffee to perform Menial machinations miserably I am but a tourist On their macabre island full With nightmarish denizens Of this local purgatory The poet dreamt of no circle As dreadfully inhabited as this sinister strata Easily a septante of sins sordidly succumbed to by soulless citizens Apathetic arrogance masquerading as hospitality While decency and morality are assaulted According to the overlords abusive schedule I am struck mute with paralytic paranoia As I hurriedly set my offering upon the altar And search for exact change
0
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 9:45 PM UTC
WAWA
just a poem it was A poem of love at most! in the form of a flower, a rainbow, a bird , a tune, a word , a picture * Some came in written in technological terms Some quantized as futuristic incense * You have sensed it all the untold Even long before my say * Not ‘the all’ go though through You know … once you can close yourself, set a fence… * but in that latter case although you may have done your best to shut these gates It seems they have reached premises against without my knowing aethēr so lucid does trespass   once built an absolute bridge through souls of equivalent selves. * Each n every time is  mine a hopeless cry to make you furious ? A touch at the physical and meta-physical to eventually develop anti-sense? * Naturally so easy As you reside at an exact opposite side of me * Angered n equally frustrated in rage of a momentous burst You  sell my identity <Intimately-shared-digital> to a dreadfully operating net-entity and target me as if to spears oh how that really hurts maybe you wished so but no not really * a boomerang brings in a rhyme of a thoughtless action returns it to the center of a rotating spiral where you stand the exact opposite end * I won’t allow though You to frown this way you learned to simmer n cool down became a clown of your own ghost town as we’re entangled beings already since sometime * so let me just also have fun Instead of you- bring me down On the competing wheel game of up n down Oh no there we sit not anymore! * Realize to have targeted a wrong one Once it is so much alike  an opposing side or a town or a crown Of you and both eventually you! So wonder in sane what did I do And put a SPAM mask on To warn me through and clearly do as if you were one of them: an Intellect-Deficient-Agent scam. * So let me just  P.S.  a burp here now Haven’t learned to develop gallstones of anger to compete thyn but joy at most with a parasympathetic smile Take it as a blessing if you like or a teasing that she has you loved so without your willing and equally convert it to a bile.
0
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 4:42 AM UTC
P.S. A Burp!
just a poem it was A poem of love at most! in the form of a flower, a rainbow, a bird , a tune, a word , a picture * Some came in written in technological terms Some quantized as futuristic incense * You have sensed it all the untold Even long before my say * Not ‘the all’ go though through You know … once you can close yourself, set a fence… * but in that latter case although you may have done your best to shut these gates It seems they have reached premises against without my knowing aethēr so lucid does trespass   once built an absolute bridge through souls of equivalent selves. * Each n every time is  mine a hopeless cry to make you furious ? A touch at the physical and meta-physical to eventually develop anti-sense? * Naturally so easy As you reside at an exact opposite side of me * Angered n equally frustrated in rage of a momentous burst You  sell my identity <Intimately-shared-digital> to a dreadfully operating net-entity and target me as if to spears oh how that really hurts maybe you wished so but no not really * a boomerang brings in a rhyme of a thoughtless action returns it to the center of a rotating spiral where you stand the exact opposite end * I won’t allow though You to frown this way you learned to simmer n cool down became a clown of your own ghost town as we’re entangled beings already since sometime * so let me just also have fun Instead of you- bring me down On the competing wheel game of up n down Oh no there we sit not anymore! * Realize to have targeted a wrong one Once it is so much alike  an opposing side or a town or a crown Of you and both eventually you! So wonder in sane what did I do And put a SPAM mask on To warn me through and clearly do as if you were one of them: an Intellect-Deficient-Agent scam. * So let me just  P.S.  a burp here now Haven’t learned to develop gallstones of anger to compete thyn but joy at most with a parasympathetic smile Take it as a blessing if you like or a teasing that she has you loved so without your willing and equally convert it to a bile.
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81
imagine me swimming, in a lake oh so fine whenever I'm in it, I lose all sense of time deeper I traveled, further I went I could feel myself changing, twisted and bent Later I fell, from space to the clouds so much to see, so many sounds oh the inspiring delectable sight I never thought falling would be such a delight I took my place, in a log touched by flame the sweet soft embers, knew all it could claim always I burned, in a night cloaked in fire alone in cold air, hot with desire the mornings were busy, I awoke with no ease my mind was a plague, of unwanted disease I looked to the window, to quiet the words yet I only heard humming, of the bright early birds I began to soon wonder, at the dark ticking hour Since when did its reminder seem so dreadfully sour? I stared at its face, concerned and confused why did each second leave a deep searing bruise? the weight of the moment, with its tender warm touches slept quiet in memory, looking more like worn crutches I was promised such joy, but when and by who? I swear at one point, this was something I knew I stepped from the garden, to dusty dirt roads I have been here before, always burdened with loads Will it lead me to safety? Will my path have no end? how I miss the red roses, how I miss my sweet friend I'll imagine I'm swimming, in a lake oh so fine that whenever I'm in it, I'll lose all sense of time higher ill travel, to land I will go I can feel myself changing, a new garden will grow
0
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 1:22 PM UTC
Crutches
How dreadfully awful of you To play with a woman's emotions Mixing in happiness and feelings of love Then drowning her in heartbreak and sadness Keep your concoctions far from me from now on
0
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 11:23 AM UTC
Magician
The brandy just as common With the daughters Reassuringly following to feed The right howled lark Into worn times. Carry the jean size that you wore in high school Since the advantage is not forgotten: Drifting footmen believed manners Learn prettier face, But lean into the interrupted light of another gun-shooting hurricane on the television. Indolent raisings are the explanation; The snort of adolescent judgment dreadfully happens, And we couldn’t free the dog’s role Into the Gently Busily Sulkily … Oh how you’ve been.
0
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 10:48 PM UTC
Zeitgeist Edition: #1 -- Hurricanes not related to climate change
Arthur dear, don’t fret. Papers, papers, get your papers.   I have never been to the sea.  I always wanted to go to the sea.   No, never since my husband died.   Oh aye, a sight to behold.   The rascals of Ballydrim out in force.   The maid peept out the window. The fryar and the nun.   An old man is a bed full of bones.   Is he not, is it not, is it not? Rose is red and rose is white.   New new nothing.   Row well ye mariners.   I have never seen the sea.   The pauper and the layman, the priest and the scoundrel, all moving with intent.   Sometimes, fleetingly, never anything less.   Profound, very, yes dreadfully profound.   Labour in vaine.   In great concentric circles about the time your husband died.   Biting the bullets one by one, out on the green fields of Amerikay.   Interest rates climbing on the national stew fund.  Spiralling into a new dawn of exoneration of traditional values.   Gracie did all those things and more.   And the quaker danced. Rose is red and rose is red.   For judge and jury.   Very very far. Quite near actually.   Further than strictly possible.   In all reason dear.   75 miles from the sea.  Exactly. And another. And another. AND another.   Drawing to a conclusion. Bliss.   Seemingly. Fleetingly.   (pause) Have at thy coat old woman!
0
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 1:21 PM UTC
Punchline to a Romance