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"echoeing" poems
Take my hand hold on through the quicksand of my expressed agony for I’m trying to bring us past the vanity and the demonic hailings I paint can as swiftly change to angels sailing past the hate my words can take you from a pearless white night with only the moon in sight then twist that light back to the sun’s beaming might surround you in a blizzard with imagery so vivid it cuts through the snow like a rock in a rivers flow bring you from the crumbles of earthly ruins to the humble pearly white gates of heavenly viewings invoke you in anger & apathy a firery rage bellowing until you hear a fazed echoeing pulling you from the depths of mind to the paradise I envisioned for mankind corrupt you with illness of doubtful hate then present a panacea of a hopeful fate I know I’m just a man, but take my hand and I’ll show to your there’s more to us than a monotonous plan
0
Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 3:07 AM UTC
Vivid
i ran without looking back left all those i loved behind the last words i said still haunting and echoeing my ears and i know the further i go its going to be a long road home i never made them cry before but when i left i heared the weeps and the tears hitting the floor like a stampede of hoofs stomping my heart a mile away yet i continued on never looking back because i knew if i went back my world would be black thier hearts would be cold and the truth would remain untold i couldnt live a life like that i had to escape but my ties to this life remain in the object of my love the soul hier to my heart the one whom i never thought to leave she stands under an oak using the leaves as an umbrella for the rain has started covering her tears she now sheds as realization that i will not show sets in she sits at the beginning of a long road home i got a long road home but the troubles i faced will be worth it when i find what i've searched so hard for my sanity that was stripped at birth my soul that left a pair of hollow eys and i know this road will only get longer
0
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 10:43 AM UTC
A Long Road Home
I walk this dismal dark and damp dungeon   Long dark the phantom am i; Strolling I now take icy breaths;   Mystery lies within my realm; Far faint foot echoes announce my impending doom   I embark upon my midnight Echoeing chamber room   It's chains that puppeted victims that had Screamed for their end and at last,   I had giggled laughed and touched their quivering chest And felt their fading warmth   Then into oblivion casted they were by me This dark stone its chilling floor   Where rodents squeek and scurry about, My only pets and friends I know Suddenly I hear as HEAVY VOICES of my approaching DOOM   POUNDING FISTS and swinging logs against my dungeon door and room I curse the empending light by Their torches casting beams Bound from hell and its slithering horrid beam fingers   Under my dungeon door I curse my end by angered pounding fists   Hell bound to see my end to be What cursed blackened night just lies   A distant short, A breathless world my oblivian beckons me by hounds   Of DOOM, My parts be scattered h e l t e r  s k e l t e r   My inners thrown upon old wooden beams above Soon i will leave this loveless world i made,   i foretell and kiss only an empty space goodbye,   Waiting first ****** deep within my flesh to be
0
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 4:15 PM UTC
Dungeon
The girl with the tearless eyes, The girl that cannot cry, The girl thats always "Good", Always "fine" And you assume she is because She's not crying She's just smiling So she's fine, right? But she's putting on a face, Putting on a mask, Covering the truth, Covering the past. She'll cancel plans last minitue only to assure you she's fine just got caught up in some family ties. But she's got trust issues deeper than the cuts she tries to hide. More painful than the lies And trying to pretend everythings fine. And the names YOU called her? Still echoeing in her brain, Still imprinting, Still remaining. But she still tries to fake a smile, Lay low for a little while, Walk at a normal pace, Keep it together! The lie that you're living is bringing disgrace! You are a disgrace, everything you are is built around it. Till she can't even remember the lies from reality, Did i smile? Did i laugh? Or am i still pretending? She asks herself As she laughs at the reflection in front of herself. Will i ever be happy? She asks head bowed down low in front of herself. She's not okay, She's always a lie. Trying to fix her broken soul, But the ghosts of the past still haunt her. They torture her *******              *******                            ******* The life out of her And the happiness And the hope It's like the dementors are coming out into the night. And she's not fine But she can't cry For the tears that once flowed put like niagra falls, Have dried up like the sahara desert. And her head is still pounding As she tries to get some sleep Still stuck poundering on the everyday life she dreads Still poundering                             Searching                                             Searching For her silver saviour, Hoping to relief the pain she's been feeling in a river of red. But she puts on a mask and fakes a smile, a laugh. And you assume she's fine, But she's soulessly screaming Help me.               Help me.                              Help
0
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 11:25 PM UTC
The girl with the tearless eyes
The girl with the tearless eyes, The girl that cannot cry, The girl thats always "Good", Always "fine" And you assume she is because She's not crying She's just smiling So she's fine, right? But she's putting on a face, Putting on a mask, Covering the truth, Covering the past. She'll cancel plans last minitue only to assure you she's fine just got caught up in some family ties. But she's got trust issues deeper than the cuts she tries to hide. More painful than the lies And trying to pretend everythings fine. And the names YOU called her? Still echoeing in her brain, Still imprinting, Still remaining. But she still tries to fake a smile, Lay low for a little while, Walk at a normal pace, Keep it together! The lie that you're living is bringing disgrace! You are a disgrace, everything you are is built around it. Till she can't even remember the lies from reality, Did i smile? Did i laugh? Or am i still pretending? She asks herself As she laughs at the reflection in front of herself. Will i ever be happy? She asks head bowed down low in front of herself. She's not okay, She's always a lie. Trying to fix her broken soul, But the ghosts of the past still haunt her. They torture her *******              *******                            ******* The life out of her And the happiness And the hope It's like the dementors are coming out into the night. And she's not fine But she can't cry For the tears that once flowed put like niagra falls, Have dried up like the sahara desert. And her head is still pounding As she tries to get some sleep Still stuck poundering on the everyday life she dreads Still poundering                             Searching                                             Searching For her silver saviour, Hoping to relief the pain she's been feeling in a river of red. But she puts on a mask and fakes a smile, a laugh. And you assume she's fine, But she's soulessly screaming Help me.               Help me.                              Help
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68
Well, I'm up all night aching And I'm listening to the hum of the refrigerator; On the night watch- Marking the change of days. Water's dripping somewhere and the hollow empty sound echoes in my mind like thought. Oh I want to lay this heavy body down. Why fight the irresistible pull of gravity? But I fight the urge, Knowing, that to lie alone in the dark- listening to the hollow empty sound of thought, Echoeing in my mind like water, hearing the hum of my body, I'd be up all night aching.
0
May 24, 2010
May 24, 2010 at 2:55 PM UTC
Sentinel
darkness wraps around me inside a sonnet singing, echoeing across the lake i hear it ,too inside a moan, sweet and sad from eons ago primordial       communication we are one.
0
Jan 13, 2018
Jan 13, 2018 at 4:40 PM UTC
wings in the water
In the crisp of morning, does edge of rest approach. For in the tents of great men do the warriors awaken in preparation for battle. Sharpening their swords, fortifying their shields, girding their spears and dawning their armours - a crest for honour. Though amid the steadiness, do they await the word of their beloved monach. "Sar-Shalom!" be the cries heard, echoeing upon the voices of the wind. Reaching even beyond the battlefields. The name of the monach, adored by the great men, anticipating the words to come. Alas, wisdom comes on the voice of the wind: "In the vallies, will you victories come". Bewildered they stood, asking themselves "why?" But, their monach adorned in their love does their loyalty stand. So, to the vallies do they march. Upon the word do they stand, anticipation honoured by their trust. For a hard battle will they fight, yet a grand victory will they know - a relief from their beloved. From the peaks do they descend, and to the vallies do they arrive. The battlefield marked for honour by their seeing eyes; Unsheathing are they ready, for the accusers come - but unexpecting are they, for the assurance declared in the meeting of blades. The divines surrounding their accusers, is the battle endorsed for the victors. As they cut down even their final Goliaths. In the praises given up on the voices of the wind, does Sar-Shalom hear the chants - His great men, now the victories of Eden. Now the journey do they cherish, in returning to their home. The tents of great men, now victories on the heights. What more shall be done? But to sing in glee. For the enemies borders are lost in the restoring victory. Their wounds shall heal, and bruises shall fade, but the songs of glee shall ring out through time, eternal; Oh, the voices of the winds chant forever "Victory in the Vallies!"
0
Apr 20, 2019
Apr 20, 2019 at 8:36 PM UTC
In the Valley...
In the crisp of morning, does edge of rest approach. For in the tents of great men do the warriors awaken in preparation for battle. Sharpening their swords, fortifying their shields, girding their spears and dawning their armours - a crest for honour. Though amid the steadiness, do they await the word of their beloved monach. "Sar-Shalom!" be the cries heard, echoeing upon the voices of the wind. Reaching even beyond the battlefields. The name of the monach, adored by the great men, anticipating the words to come. Alas, wisdom comes on the voice of the wind: "In the vallies, will you victories come". Bewildered they stood, asking themselves "why?" But, their monach adorned in their love does their loyalty stand. So, to the vallies do they march. Upon the word do they stand, anticipation honoured by their trust. For a hard battle will they fight, yet a grand victory will they know - a relief from their beloved. From the peaks do they descend, and to the vallies do they arrive. The battlefield marked for honour by their seeing eyes; Unsheathing are they ready, for the accusers come - but unexpecting are they, for the assurance declared in the meeting of blades. The divines surrounding their accusers, is the battle endorsed for the victors. As they cut down even their final Goliaths. In the praises given up on the voices of the wind, does Sar-Shalom hear the chants - His great men, now the victories of Eden. Now the journey do they cherish, in returning to their home. The tents of great men, now victories on the heights. What more shall be done? But to sing in glee. For the enemies borders are lost in the restoring victory. Their wounds shall heal, and bruises shall fade, but the songs of glee shall ring out through time, eternal; Oh, the voices of the winds chant forever "Victory in the Vallies!"
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11
What kind of obscure analysis Implies What instantaneous retraction Denies Although I still believe The illuminated illustration Stands fast ... in resolute conviction That poets can be and often are... ... word butchers! And then... In... That hyper Inflated Monumental moment of Silence You can hear the discourse Running rampant through The metaphorically impaled Dignity... As it swallows In hardchecking defense Restraining those words Rising up... in roiling need to avenge This appalling offense Screaming eyes burning holes And every single letter as it streams past Resolved To the abrogated With a sudden conviction That None Shall be absolved Not a single a or double m Whit or whim Simply waiting with war raging Beneath this thin veneer Of social mores and polite adherence The smiling face and the calm appearance Of an understanding listener Knowing and aware Of the growing Self-affirming Sense of indignation That's such effrontery as to call Any poet Even if it is themself That they spoke of Just 30 seconds ago And now winding up and winding down Any point have this interdiction Sudden ponderous silence  echoeing with a question mark laden intensity  of the guantlets swing...... how can you call yourself a word butcher and be any kind of... of... of... A poet? With quizzical eyes. and mild surprise My face pops forward and up To gaze upon the springboard Of this questioning ... ... but obviously sincere Learned yet learning... lover of words So leaning in close And then in whispered tones Whispered in conspiratorial antipathy Because I treat them gently I weigh them Fair I carve just enough excess to leave them with value I wrap them in clean white parchment and tie them up with pride .... ....then pass them over to be ...unwrapped savored and enjoyed by...... I hope a recipient who enjoys what was related   Then With all the luck in the world ends up sated... by the words and the thoughts That I had created Then watching them walk away the army disbanded and the war horses went calm while the learned yet learning lover of words..... couldn't think of a single word to say.
0
Dec 8, 2017
Dec 8, 2017 at 9:31 AM UTC
Obscure analysis
What kind of obscure analysis Implies What instantaneous retraction Denies Although I still believe The illuminated illustration Stands fast ... in resolute conviction That poets can be and often are... ... word butchers! And then... In... That hyper Inflated Monumental moment of Silence You can hear the discourse Running rampant through The metaphorically impaled Dignity... As it swallows In hardchecking defense Restraining those words Rising up... in roiling need to avenge This appalling offense Screaming eyes burning holes And every single letter as it streams past Resolved To the abrogated With a sudden conviction That None Shall be absolved Not a single a or double m Whit or whim Simply waiting with war raging Beneath this thin veneer Of social mores and polite adherence The smiling face and the calm appearance Of an understanding listener Knowing and aware Of the growing Self-affirming Sense of indignation That's such effrontery as to call Any poet Even if it is themself That they spoke of Just 30 seconds ago And now winding up and winding down Any point have this interdiction Sudden ponderous silence  echoeing with a question mark laden intensity  of the guantlets swing...... how can you call yourself a word butcher and be any kind of... of... of... A poet? With quizzical eyes. and mild surprise My face pops forward and up To gaze upon the springboard Of this questioning ... ... but obviously sincere Learned yet learning... lover of words So leaning in close And then in whispered tones Whispered in conspiratorial antipathy Because I treat them gently I weigh them Fair I carve just enough excess to leave them with value I wrap them in clean white parchment and tie them up with pride .... ....then pass them over to be ...unwrapped savored and enjoyed by...... I hope a recipient who enjoys what was related   Then With all the luck in the world ends up sated... by the words and the thoughts That I had created Then watching them walk away the army disbanded and the war horses went calm while the learned yet learning lover of words..... couldn't think of a single word to say.
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71
Time has grown a little older since we were young losing tires in parking lots. Leaving out the front door to be together in the back seat. And I remember Spending the night feeling the sound of a summer storm. Your car echoeing the sounds of an ancient beat. And I remember how it moved me. But when I danced naked in the rain, you didn't care too much either way. You watched me, but I wondered how you could see me. And then I realized You were a storm yourself. One moment calm and controlled And the next cold and torrential. With no expression you stared as my movements slowed. Under their gaze I was disobedient. A child who should be in bed. I almost cared. I laughed as I spun away. And this time I danced for me. Not for you. You never had to see me. I was free. Finally, hip popped and panting, I glared over my shoulder to meet your eyes, Defiance radiating from every muscle. But the storm had already passed and you just smiled. Watching me. Really watching me. And that was better than any smell after any rain I could have ever danced naked for you in. I just danced in you instead. And watched you as you watched me.
0
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 6:43 PM UTC
I, Contact...
So I can not be in denial anymore. I wanted the memory of romance to come out to warm me with its warm cloak. Instead that which is the truth of hearts speak loud vibrating - echoeing - as a surrender to the air. my heart strings played - an outburst of the melody that holds our bodies as one. Live a strong way - a long way - a way of love that takes centuries to burn down. Maybe these are high ideals? I don't know. Most of the time I just try to Breathe - and let the wind        take me        as its sister - chasing me with its cool wave of magic.
0
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 8:01 AM UTC
I Surrender To the Air
... .. . what star bound that my reflection has returned to the run away look from me to the sky teardrop flies vultures life buzzards crows in nuendos come on lets make babies in the snow baby don't you know crueler winds have blown my teeth have chatter'd through them matters never heard an sound only questions echoeing echoes what star bound ?
0
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 7:47 AM UTC
what star bound
It will be okay comes a voice, A thought, something deep down Reaches out to me to comfort I hear it echoeing in my mind I push it back down in me Not believeing it can be true But the day goes by and Every step I take align itself With exactly the way things Unfold and then hindsight Takes place and it was okay And there was peace during The seconds of each hour of The day. Whatever Power that Is it's sure a beautiful feeling. Thank you.
0
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 10:49 AM UTC
It Was Okay