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"dreadfulness" poems
Rest in peace willow of the nest My condolences for such dreadfulness I did not mean for the sun to neglect you I did not mean for your leaves to abandon you Forgive me, dear willow of the nest Forsaken by all the living ****** by such dreary darkness. Dear willow tree, No longer will I burden thee When your seeds begin to grow I hope that you know Your new life will intertwine with my death And with my last breath I’ll curse you with my sorrow You won’t see me tomorrow Past the pain of now’s goodbyes Please tell me why, oh why! Dear willow of the nest Do you think pondering such revenge is best? Trade your soul in for new branches instead of Sleeping in the maggots that fill your trunk bed Meanwhile, lingering upon the magic tops of neighboring trees are new seeds They shall bring with them bold opportunities, Their company shall bloom gardens They shall dance in the wind while summoning a thousand pardons For they shall not be the ones to fill your empty nest That once carried in it a hopeful wish, at best. Every last piece of me has dispersed into the universe Never again shall they come together Never again shall I be whole You can grow old with your new endeavor While I create art with my soul. Goodbye, my beloved willow tree of the nest You were a fantasy; a courter; a lover; A whimsical romance, at best.
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Mar 11, 2011
Mar 11, 2011 at 7:40 PM UTC
A Willow's Love is an Empty Nest
As of lately, I've been lost in translation in this transcended state of thought every thought running into one another Impeding on the clarity of my perception Leaving me in a state of panic Searching for something slightly out of reach As the needle threads the weave My mind entangles the threads into a mass insanity of run on sentences Leaving me nothing but breathless Left in a state of weak existence Wrapped within the roots of the stem of my thoughts and they grow into shadows of monsters trying to break free from the dark but they cannot reach the other side The light, it seems much too far to carry on. This train wreck of distortion is slowly seeping into my soul. Deafening the voices at my beck and call A tragic winding road of memories keeps bringing me right back to the same place I just left and now I'm right back where I started again A streaming flowing river of never-ending thoughts Always escaping me Just there long enough to hold on to a string of words that hardly make any sense Am I dreaming or is this death? I cannot recall ever lying down on that bed. Resting my head where all those demons dwell The lump in my throat fiercely swells and the smoke filled coughs mask my cries Repairs the dreadfulness of my daily life I cannot escape this restless mind It won't let me rest, it won't power down The switch is broken and I've lost my crown along with all the jewels I once possessively possessed My mind is wandering somewhere and I haven't a clue when It's due back © 2013 Christina Jackson
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Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 2:07 AM UTC
Flowing stream of thoughts
As of lately, I've been lost in translation in this transcended state of thought every thought running into one another Impeding on the clarity of my perception Leaving me in a state of panic Searching for something slightly out of reach As the needle threads the weave My mind entangles the threads into a mass insanity of run on sentences Leaving me nothing but breathless Left in a state of weak existence Wrapped within the roots of the stem of my thoughts and they grow into shadows of monsters trying to break free from the dark but they cannot reach the other side The light, it seems much too far to carry on. This train wreck of distortion is slowly seeping into my soul. Deafening the voices at my beck and call A tragic winding road of memories keeps bringing me right back to the same place I just left and now I'm right back where I started again A streaming flowing river of never-ending thoughts Always escaping me Just there long enough to hold on to a string of words that hardly make any sense Am I dreaming or is this death? I cannot recall ever lying down on that bed. Resting my head where all those demons dwell The lump in my throat fiercely swells and the smoke filled coughs mask my cries Repairs the dreadfulness of my daily life I cannot escape this restless mind It won't let me rest, it won't power down The switch is broken and I've lost my crown along with all the jewels I once possessively possessed My mind is wandering somewhere and I haven't a clue when It's due back © 2013 Christina Jackson
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46
You still make your own bread because it reminds you of your mother working hard to feed her 10 children during the dreadfulness of war, near the flaming stove It reminds you of a time when things were anything but easy When you had to save your meal for a scarcer time When you woke up before the rooster's call and prayed for your family's safety When you realized just how much burden and uncertainty your rib cage can carry When you learned what strength really is and how grief truly feels When dehydration turned your tears into dust When sleep was a luxury your worried eyes could not afford When every new breath felt like a responsibility and every water drop down your throat felt like blessing you couldn't afford You still make your own bread I think people wonder why you want to remember such a painful time But I understand you completely Pain is the bitter flavor your taste buds are used to It is the background music of your video The idea of remembering the painful past Is not to feel pain, it is to feel the joy within the pain The flour taste remaining on your lips after you voraciously devour the loaf of bread The weight your thin arms learned how to carry The look of appreciation your mother gave you The sense of responsibility that made you feel needed The sunrise that made you feel yet alive The 5 minute snooze that gave you energy The relief after tear-less cries The prosperous smiles And the loss of fears You still make your own bread It tastes terrible But I love it endlessly
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Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 1:22 PM UTC
The Dread & Bread of War
You still make your own bread because it reminds you of your mother working hard to feed her 10 children during the dreadfulness of war, near the flaming stove It reminds you of a time when things were anything but easy When you had to save your meal for a scarcer time When you woke up before the rooster's call and prayed for your family's safety When you realized just how much burden and uncertainty your rib cage can carry When you learned what strength really is and how grief truly feels When dehydration turned your tears into dust When sleep was a luxury your worried eyes could not afford When every new breath felt like a responsibility and every water drop down your throat felt like blessing you couldn't afford You still make your own bread I think people wonder why you want to remember such a painful time But I understand you completely Pain is the bitter flavor your taste buds are used to It is the background music of your video The idea of remembering the painful past Is not to feel pain, it is to feel the joy within the pain The flour taste remaining on your lips after you voraciously devour the loaf of bread The weight your thin arms learned how to carry The look of appreciation your mother gave you The sense of responsibility that made you feel needed The sunrise that made you feel yet alive The 5 minute snooze that gave you energy The relief after tear-less cries The prosperous smiles And the loss of fears You still make your own bread It tastes terrible But I love it endlessly
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37
when time starts to slumber foward a revealation too great to walk perseverance spirals into a void of confusion depression clocks tick backwards but your mind wanderes in the future a time in the future a moment in the past an hour of the present the channeling of fate sometimes everythings just perfect the music is sweet to the soul the body wants to move a tear of joy after winter is spring the trees dance and the flowers smile the spring sings songs of peace silence in the loudest of heights a time for dreadfulness a time for raving a time for serious thoughts a time for plurfect its good to not judge acceptance of time as it is peace is when you understand you don't need to understand a time for experiencing a time for understanding
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Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 5:10 AM UTC
minutes
Sitting semi-sola on the cornerstone, Next to unknown; destination: another home. And in a moment of a day not so dreary with cofidence to loan, I'd ask them to take me with them to not feel so alone. But I didn't have happiness to borrow or loan, So I sat still and quiet against the cornerstone. I watched them ride away, feeling completely alone, Watching them silently as they made their way home. And in another moment where I had something to loan Other than dreadfulness at the self-ignited idea of being alone I'd ask them to take me to another cornerstone, ***** and dusty, but nevertheless a true home.
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Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 9:41 PM UTC
Youth's Cornerstone
when time starts to slumber foward a revealation too great to walk perseverance spirals into a void of confusion depression clocks tick backwards but your mind wanderes in the future a time in the future a moment in the past an hour of the present the channeling of fate sometimes everythings just perfect the music is sweet to the soul the body wants to move a tear of joy after winter is spring the trees dance and the flowers smile the spring sings songs of peace silence in the loudest of heights a time for dreadfulness a time for raving a time for  serious thoughts a time for plurfect its good to not judge acceptance of time as it is peace is when you understand you don't need to understand a time for experiencing a time for understanding
0
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 5:09 AM UTC
minutes
**Keep holding on to the light. It never fully leaves when the moon rises. But be aware of the shadows. There’s a whole other world inside of them. They drag you down and down. Until you hit the bottom of your soul. It’s cold and dark, an unknown existence. You can never leave, it’s too late. Stay like the weak wreck you are. You’re not even trying to escape. Do you give up that easy? You’re a mess, an emotional mess. Stop crying, it won’t help. Stop shouting after your consciousness. Free your soul from the fear. Help, instead of being trapped inside of yourself. Purify the darkness, let the moon rise once again. Letting the light help you live. But there’s a risk, the shadows. They’re waiting, they’re hungry for a pathetic prey like you.** *Stop keeping the circle of time in your life. Leave it alone, before you fall into a pit of misery. It’s dark down there, just like your soul. It’s more lethal than ever; with walls painted with despair.* **Eyes straining in the dark, searching after something usable. Stay sane, if you can keep up with the twisted voices. Don’t let them drag you deeper down. Don’t let them manipulate you once again A million worlds in one. They’re all inside of me. Screams filling my lungs, it’s ringing in my ears. They’re controlling me from my blind side. Keep up with the running tears, The pain has gotten deeper. The hatred is using me. The fear is haunting me forever. There’s a hole in my heart. The moon’s shining through my emptiness. It’s making me sleepy, I see them. It’s the shadows, they’re gonna get me. I woke up by the river; mirroring the stars. The moon saved me once again on this summer night. The shadows dragged me here, they wanted to drown me in dreadfulness. They’re what I fear the most; my Summer Nightmares.**
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May 22, 2017
May 22, 2017 at 4:58 AM UTC
Summer Nightmares
**Keep holding on to the light. It never fully leaves when the moon rises. But be aware of the shadows. There’s a whole other world inside of them. They drag you down and down. Until you hit the bottom of your soul. It’s cold and dark, an unknown existence. You can never leave, it’s too late. Stay like the weak wreck you are. You’re not even trying to escape. Do you give up that easy? You’re a mess, an emotional mess. Stop crying, it won’t help. Stop shouting after your consciousness. Free your soul from the fear. Help, instead of being trapped inside of yourself. Purify the darkness, let the moon rise once again. Letting the light help you live. But there’s a risk, the shadows. They’re waiting, they’re hungry for a pathetic prey like you.** *Stop keeping the circle of time in your life. Leave it alone, before you fall into a pit of misery. It’s dark down there, just like your soul. It’s more lethal than ever; with walls painted with despair.* **Eyes straining in the dark, searching after something usable. Stay sane, if you can keep up with the twisted voices. Don’t let them drag you deeper down. Don’t let them manipulate you once again A million worlds in one. They’re all inside of me. Screams filling my lungs, it’s ringing in my ears. They’re controlling me from my blind side. Keep up with the running tears, The pain has gotten deeper. The hatred is using me. The fear is haunting me forever. There’s a hole in my heart. The moon’s shining through my emptiness. It’s making me sleepy, I see them. It’s the shadows, they’re gonna get me. I woke up by the river; mirroring the stars. The moon saved me once again on this summer night. The shadows dragged me here, they wanted to drown me in dreadfulness. They’re what I fear the most; my Summer Nightmares.**
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44
I glared Pandora in her sinful eyes And simply asked her, "Why?" Concerning all the dreadfulness unleashed upon the earth And only for a peek, for the sake of curiosity.  Serpents and plagues spewed past her decaying lips, Tears streamed and turned to blood  On contact with her ancient skin.  Her eyes pooled and screamed "I'm sorry," But faint and drowning, as if under oceans: Seas of anguish And centuries of bearing blame.
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Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 8:51 AM UTC
On Suffering / Pandora
i am in stasis, prisoner to the nightsky and all his dreadfulness laying, helpless - waiting for someone to steal my heart and end this senseless aching no more pain shall be felt in the name of a ****** angel the lord has no sympathy for those who speak with their eyes i am deaf to the silence and my ears bleed everyday tell me you were crying on the day i stopped loving you watch me as satan's hellboys laugh with glee while they pull apart my rib cage bone to bone watch me wonder if the pain is worse than the love i felt for you tell me that in the wake of all this destruction, i have been made stronger a black pearl waiting to be torn from its home some day i wont have to wait anymore
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Sep 4, 2016
Sep 4, 2016 at 11:32 PM UTC
dream man
I have uncovered that there is no word that holds more sorrow than potential. Fate lies as only an unwitting alibi, Malice only a valcher in its wake. Potential is the reaching, unavoidable canyon in the soul, So very tainted and saddened for things that never existed. It is a pitiful nostalgia for words never spilt to the floor. For the kisses that never stained the lips. For the fingers that never brushed the skin, With the electricity that was never felt. For the places that were empty of you. Potential, I have found, Is a human construction. Sinisterly designed to haunt you with who you are, Remind you of who you are not, And the vast, treacherous difference between the two. - (I mourn you in all the things we had not been, I mourn you in all the places we had not seen.)
0
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 8:52 AM UTC
The dreadfulness of things
What was that was "best" about my true feelings for you? Is it that you once knew I did? Was it because you had feelings before as well? What excatly do you know or see? Is it really ok if we were never meant to be? One day can we not be on with eachother in harmony? Is it not now but later? Even with an "I'm sorry" that can light up the sitution, To solve such a problem, Why can that be enough for me? I should be on top of the world but only a frown of unstabled expression lays on my face. Should tears fall down, like any other? Nothing but nothing is my answer, A piece of paper that glazes at me with dreadfulness and a woeful picture of precious memories of a one sided story. All over again. But Thank You, You really don't understand how much it can change the way someone view on everything. Again Thank You, May 2 , 2012 - May 3 , 2012
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May 3, 2012
May 3, 2012 at 3:26 PM UTC
It's best that I know now?
Maybe I'll exhibit an ounce of satisfaction When I see your heart fumbling on the floor, On account of all the pain and sorrow it caused No Your burden doesn't turn you into a Saint And no You will not cloak yourself on hope You'll not shade the bitterness that comes with hate you will long for and sail on dejection, Always looking on dreadfulness of your past tales Dry your eyes am talking to you As days bleed into years you'll soak up a great deal of agony your life will be on a constant loop of despair And then Only then You will remember this poem
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Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 11:29 AM UTC
Questa poesia II
"Perchance I was immune, Or just dictated to be. "Hearken," says the distant tune Of my heart's running beat." "Alone was I in this mini hideout, Isolated from anguish and pain. Strange how the dark comforts me, Compels me to believe I'm sane." "My old man seems present, But he is not there Does not seem to be himself But a monster from my nightmare." "Each time he tattoos a bruise on me, I hear him curse my name. Mothballs were my only comfort Hanged clothes were the very same." "The pattern repeats by itself, Bluster transcends the boundary. Even in my nicest, loveliest sleep, In deep quietude you barge in." "I desired to abruptly end it all Inside this fancy closet. Is life all solitude and dreadfulness, Or was my life just an accident?" "It breaks my heart to know I always seemed invisible. It were my last words. Bid farewell, wooden wall." It were my child's last words. Forgive me, wooden wall.
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Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 7:35 AM UTC
Wooden Wall
As much as I miss the London Tube, for its grandeur aesthetic, for its fast-paced movement; I fear of missing you, for the way your lips shape up your pretty smile, for the way your brevity articulates your erudite thoughts, for the dreadfulness of the warmth, and the heartbreaks that follow suit. As much as I fall in love with The City, for its vintage Victorian era buildings, for its chaotic hectic way of life; I fear of falling in love with you, for your deep meaningful eyes, for the firmness of your principles and values, for the dreadfulness of the warmth, and the heartbreaks that follow suit. But the fearfulness of life is what makes us humans, To be in fear, to be wishful, to be hopeful, To move forward in higher spirits and stronger heart.
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Oct 15, 2017
Oct 15, 2017 at 7:40 AM UTC
the dreadful warmth
they think, yet have they googled bullying. what is so wrong with being kind and gentle in approach. we have found here that softness works well. to escape the dreadfulness of life. prevent wars, even small ones. sbm.
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Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 1:51 AM UTC
. strong women .
She walks in beauty and with elegance. But I cannot seem to reach for her lips. She leaves to go on her annual trips. When she’s gone, I fill up with helplessness. I will never feel such a blessedness Until her restless green eyes come back here. Losing her is the only thing I fear. Just the mere thought fills me with dreadfulness. The baroness came to grant me a kiss. My heart skips a beat as she walks towards me. Her radiant smile burns into my soul. Spirits combined for a moment of bliss. Our love shall last, it was meant to be. To be joined at last, to become a whole.
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Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 3:57 PM UTC
The Baroness
Baptized in water, to wash afresh life They flipped a quarter to pay a wreck their stripes Too many strikes in the lines; I've done ill twice To prove a lesson I never seem to learn And by the next turn on an unfamiliar road As where the water drips off the bottom sink—filled in dirt I'll over think a wish that employers pay my worth Baptized in fire, of all those miscreants I'd like to burn Setting flame to burning evil intent of worldly incense As the idea of a heaven paradise, is the only call to repent To accept the mess you made—no sense or point to be afraid Tip the finger despite the good intent, but a middle finger in prayer Nowadays sinners aren't ashamed, to gain success out of his name Heathen, Atheist, Christian, Jew, Muslim, Buddhist; all the same Living the most lively of lives, but we'll all die in the end Baptized in Earth, saying goodbye to befores, family and friends It's the spoil of soil that buries my dreams with a fresh rose She smells of intentions, but I cannot smell good with a ****** nose Ironically all things are red, that of which we've read To share with the young, or not really care—we all die in the end Caught in this life's trap of the pleasure's unfair; a bear in a snare To rob you bare, with tears and a ripped bandage that you tear The ones you love aren't always there—in moment's phone call away _Ring, ring, beep, beep, sing, sing, sip, sip_; sorry I'm drinking today You're just throwing those hopes in the air, feeling down by gravity Baptized in winds, swinging carelessly in hopeful imaginings That you're the one to be the golden egg of your family An idea I had once till it cracked, so I sit back relax and laugh Mask my pains with a grin and jokingly demeanor to always pass Speaking smooth joy out of a tongue of jazz, and jazz hands Fingers splayed to play in quotation marks of having a good day And the line phrase of always saying, "yeah I'm definitely okay" All in these elements—restless, pretend excellence, dreadfulness In the endlessness of subtle pettiness, of my helplessness As of my gentleness elegance, in being my life as the evidence I've been baptized fully by the full of all these elements
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Sep 19, 2022
Sep 19, 2022 at 4:52 PM UTC
Baptism of elements
Baptized in water, to wash afresh life They flipped a quarter to pay a wreck their stripes Too many strikes in the lines; I've done ill twice To prove a lesson I never seem to learn And by the next turn on an unfamiliar road As where the water drips off the bottom sink—filled in dirt I'll over think a wish that employers pay my worth Baptized in fire, of all those miscreants I'd like to burn Setting flame to burning evil intent of worldly incense As the idea of a heaven paradise, is the only call to repent To accept the mess you made—no sense or point to be afraid Tip the finger despite the good intent, but a middle finger in prayer Nowadays sinners aren't ashamed, to gain success out of his name Heathen, Atheist, Christian, Jew, Muslim, Buddhist; all the same Living the most lively of lives, but we'll all die in the end Baptized in Earth, saying goodbye to befores, family and friends It's the spoil of soil that buries my dreams with a fresh rose She smells of intentions, but I cannot smell good with a ****** nose Ironically all things are red, that of which we've read To share with the young, or not really care—we all die in the end Caught in this life's trap of the pleasure's unfair; a bear in a snare To rob you bare, with tears and a ripped bandage that you tear The ones you love aren't always there—in moment's phone call away _Ring, ring, beep, beep, sing, sing, sip, sip_; sorry I'm drinking today You're just throwing those hopes in the air, feeling down by gravity Baptized in winds, swinging carelessly in hopeful imaginings That you're the one to be the golden egg of your family An idea I had once till it cracked, so I sit back relax and laugh Mask my pains with a grin and jokingly demeanor to always pass Speaking smooth joy out of a tongue of jazz, and jazz hands Fingers splayed to play in quotation marks of having a good day And the line phrase of always saying, "yeah I'm definitely okay" All in these elements—restless, pretend excellence, dreadfulness In the endlessness of subtle pettiness, of my helplessness As of my gentleness elegance, in being my life as the evidence I've been baptized fully by the full of all these elements
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36
Remember the last time we walk Also it was our last time to talk, It was the night of snowing December Freezing our bodies with its cold winter But there's no use crying again and again As memories flows of you leaving with a train, Together with our tears falls like rain Saying our last farewell caused pain Those vivid memories of you leaving for war Drowns me with anxiety and uncertainly, Waiting for you to go home feels like enternity But keeps me aiming far; And I've always known war is a game A game of life and death Which even a man without a name Would die in womb of his mother; Now death has prevailed, your life has ended Promises, shattered, broken instead; Your lifeless body was an evidence Of war's dreadfulness and cruelty at worst.
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Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 10:22 AM UTC
Symphony of Death