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"encaged" poems
As we exchange gentle kisses; our bodies engage lips graze her ribcage her heart enclaves and her chest caves unto a soul encaged beating with passion and fueled by rage it's more than just lust it's the Passion we exchange.
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Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 6:09 PM UTC
Revenge
Allow me to steer you from this endless road of monotony to a luminous land where you will be bathed in an effervescent afterglow Created by a realm of invisible possibilities spun into the iridescent colorwheel of hope Ataxia Melt into my embracing arms as I lead you through a state of comatose I will guide you to the kaleidescape And you will Understand How encaged you have been by the life presented By the fearful and the small So enraptured by the mundane So afraid to rearrange I understand the temptation . Believe me I understand But allow me to explain how the ultimate risk you take Is when your fear of not knowing is why it all remains the same mp
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Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 2:00 PM UTC
A Psychedelic Walk of Life
*There are scars in places I haven't seen, There are nights you wish you couldn't dream There are things which were taken away, There are losses that will always stay There are moments you want to die, There are times you're too tired to cry There are feelings no one will understand, There are burdens that don't let you stand There are people that broke your faith, There are monsters that keep you encaged There are nights when you let yourself grieve, There are days that don't let the nights leave There are all these unhappy things and sorrow, But my love, there's also  tomorrow
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Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 1:56 AM UTC
Tomorrow
I used to fear what I could be some day How I was always locking emotions away My world view turning darker than gray Yet, while my heart was encaged My soul was enraged Revolted by the world I seen My spirit raged, fierce and mean Deserving of judgement, we the unclean I took everything I had not to Intervene
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Oct 5, 2021
Oct 5, 2021 at 2:40 AM UTC
Emotionlessly Passionate
I know that you look up to me; For one, because I'm six feet tall, But I think that I have done my best, To keep you safe -- away from all, The little things that ****** me up. For you are young: with scathing tongue, Opinions you cannot express, A lack of words, And fear of hurt, And are yet to fully comprehend The singing of your encaged thoughts. But listen to me little sister, I cannot be your wall forever, For, one day, you will draw your sword And embark upon your own endeavour, To quell the beasts that hide within. You will only ever need these words, And the gumption to unleash their rage, To part the seas of social norms, To dispute the words on any page, But I warn you; they bring trouble. For one day, little sister, I Will lie a living corpse in bed, Encroached upon by inner beasts, Of longing, love and loneliness, But I assure you, you are safe. For I was one who did not speak -- Until the world was tucked in bed; So when the world lends you its ear, Discard the lines that they want read -- And tell them what your brother said: **** YOU.
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May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 4:27 PM UTC
Sister.
I was encaged. at the filligree age of 13 I told my childhood friend I had fallen for the way freckles fell like sawdust on her teacup skin and the way her lips blushed around a cigarette that always burned too close to the filter In that town, with bleeding jaw town like funeral bells all were straight until proven otherwise. in that town ALL WERE SAFE UNTIL PROVEN OTHERWISE. In 1892 the word bisexual was first used for being sexually attracted to both women and men. Bisexuality does not explain falling in love with fire.
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Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 1:52 PM UTC
Wildfire.
a wave of air a stream of fire a world ablaze a person enranged a life encaged and eyes and a smile and everything and you.
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Sep 26, 2021
Sep 26, 2021 at 1:23 AM UTC
living
Along a narrow, vacant street at 2 a.m. Underneath the threatening lights of peril An act of ******** was taking place between A beautiful cigarette and the orifice of my lips Halloween had not yet dawned upon us Yet as I walk Jack-O-Lanterns smile at me Displaying minor quakes of bloodthirsty evil While a serum of scorn soaks my tongue With a heartless trick of ice, cold malice Summoning the entire town to its kneecaps Devils regurgitate lullabies resembling the sound Of nails ****** a chalkboard sparing no mercy Arousing the hopeless romantics To awaken a graveyard And **** the corpses until they're Resurrected from their comas As the nymphomaniacs ice Their frozen flesh with ***** Painting an ocean of abstract thoughts Across the edges of their frames of mind Do morticians make up the majority Of necrophilia related crimes? Maybe so but, I bet they had never felt A ****** so dry and so cold Yet still the thrill of chills tickle these criminal's spines While they measure their screams careful not to awaken The beautifully disgusting corpses that lie before them They turn their heads only to find a pair of scarlet eyes Gawking at them from within a cowardly shield of fear Darkness was it's home, Mother to all its desires In my opinion it was just a phase; A massacre encaged
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Aug 25, 2011
Aug 25, 2011 at 4:12 AM UTC
2 A.M.
‘twas the Hour of The Raven, Scolding at the Seven Seas, Humidity can’t be seen As the sun whirled Its final twirl. A flock of pigeons stand by Midnight’s Trolley Trail. I am my own eye, Staring at taught veils 'tween cotton gaits. The clouds are no more, Spirits remained encaged in rose sepultures, A transformation so chaotic, they cackle at their false fear. MY BLURRINESS SEEMS TO BURN STEADY. ready, For what to behold. I have left Universe to relay , As the subtle sun one did in its day. I am left To react. React to what? React to wee?            React, to relationships,        React, to their degree of nobility, So fruitful, so radical in concept indeed. Of all these perspectives I am one. One paper, one tree cut for endless possibilities. The treasure remains underneath, Where I weep In the deep, In the deep. There is nothing to find, And that made all the difference. 'twas the Hour of The Raven, Scolding at the Seven Seas.
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Jun 14, 2022
Jun 14, 2022 at 4:08 PM UTC
The Hour of The Raven
Wailing walls, howling fences Encaged and blocked by barriers All smashed, sorted in security fence Miles of humanity and flesh torn apart Why is it that we can’t live together? We bleed the same coagulating blood Lined up and humiliated in alleyways Paths of iron bars and imprisonment My veins wringed, intensive torment Mentally distracted, strained by grief Settlement, conflicts and border struggles Governance, religious trickles of disunion The biblical birthright verses human rights The unsighted straining peace settlement Shadows of the peace blueprint screams Ongoing reconciliation, milked in small doses Whose home is whose? Subdivided in areas Controls of disillusionment undisclosed Unmanned checkpoints evokes fears Revolving cameras tossed and turned Bansky slogan “make hummus not war” Smashes freedom to uproot  and merge Constitute and construct peaceful resorts All horns blowing to collapse duality
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Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 2:08 PM UTC
Bawling West-Bank Barrier
"You were born to do this." I reminded myself as I sat there feeling encaged in a flurry of endless thought and emotion. "Why do I have to feel every aspect of every event of life, so deep?" I thought as I fought myself once again to simply pick up the pen and drain the overflow of despondency onto paper. "Breathe." The words, letters, verbs and thoughts continued to swirl in my ever rampantly unsettled abyss of ideation. Once I surrendered to the raging of the erupting of the soul..there was calm. It's likened to the deaf..taken away their ability to sign..The dancer with both feet removed. Had I no other pleasure but to expel grief, fervor and elation and form them into words to heal the shattering so entrenched..they appear unreachable..I'd beg to be buried with just a writing utensil and endless reams of freshly pressed paper. "Theres Light." I mouth that..as I continue to jot as if I were stitching my heart back together with this pen. Even though I'm within this seemingly grave like cave of aching..I can write. The beauty is in the creation..The ability to construct, like a carpenter..all that your heart desires with your own two hands..to simply Heal the paragraphs of life that were written badly, write over them or erase and rewrite..if only it were that easy. I don't aim to undo..I cannot. Just to poetically fabricate from this point on..allow the stumbles to happen and Love greater than thought fathomable. Surrender. To the page. Scribble it out, empty it onto line after line..and crawl atop..until the words fill the fragments and the ink stains your fingertips..Keep climbing upon the proverbial stacks of paper until the towers reach the aperture of the pit. Creating the mending of affliction, soothing the misery of the choking of words you cannot utter, but you can scratch them onto tablets to deplete the churning of the mind. Write. Write badly. Write as if in a mad race to the finish line, then start over again..Until the trails of Letters stretch so long..you could dance upon them for days. Then Breathe. Soak every word into your skin as if attempting to heal the afflictions.. then Become it.
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Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 5:24 PM UTC
*The Voice of a Writer*
"You were born to do this." I reminded myself as I sat there feeling encaged in a flurry of endless thought and emotion. "Why do I have to feel every aspect of every event of life, so deep?" I thought as I fought myself once again to simply pick up the pen and drain the overflow of despondency onto paper. "Breathe." The words, letters, verbs and thoughts continued to swirl in my ever rampantly unsettled abyss of ideation. Once I surrendered to the raging of the erupting of the soul..there was calm. It's likened to the deaf..taken away their ability to sign..The dancer with both feet removed. Had I no other pleasure but to expel grief, fervor and elation and form them into words to heal the shattering so entrenched..they appear unreachable..I'd beg to be buried with just a writing utensil and endless reams of freshly pressed paper. "Theres Light." I mouth that..as I continue to jot as if I were stitching my heart back together with this pen. Even though I'm within this seemingly grave like cave of aching..I can write. The beauty is in the creation..The ability to construct, like a carpenter..all that your heart desires with your own two hands..to simply Heal the paragraphs of life that were written badly, write over them or erase and rewrite..if only it were that easy. I don't aim to undo..I cannot. Just to poetically fabricate from this point on..allow the stumbles to happen and Love greater than thought fathomable. Surrender. To the page. Scribble it out, empty it onto line after line..and crawl atop..until the words fill the fragments and the ink stains your fingertips..Keep climbing upon the proverbial stacks of paper until the towers reach the aperture of the pit. Creating the mending of affliction, soothing the misery of the choking of words you cannot utter, but you can scratch them onto tablets to deplete the churning of the mind. Write. Write badly. Write as if in a mad race to the finish line, then start over again..Until the trails of Letters stretch so long..you could dance upon them for days. Then Breathe. Soak every word into your skin as if attempting to heal the afflictions.. then Become it.
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23
Is not only ordinary in the most vile sense It also lacks the creative imbalance That which pulses through the blood of cryptic elders Although being encaged in a box has the comfort of rigidity It destroys the fetus of all that pretends to be beautiful Contemptuous moments ruined Because we are weak enough to ask, why? To pander For a something as feebly human as a definition Why must everything  be placed on the hand of the glockenspiel When the world has clearly indicated The presence of a divine anomaly The trees are freezing into crocked chapels The blackened oasis tearing slightly along the buttons Through this all the celestial ambiance awaits Its complexities weave each stroke unparalleled r The urge is to destroy That which makes our eyes sting And our brains blast through the unseen hallows Riding the coattails of a blastiod This gusto is blanketed over in our simple minds Forged into a hammer and sickle Of absolute and definite terror Destroy it all All of which can chemically mix and produce A new mystical pattern of deficiencies Naked spayed on the cutting room floor We must destroy it By forcefully coding its gnome Correcting what appears to be a hint of insurrection   When we already no the what already know the why but the current answers will make us their slave They will bind us in hopeless ecstasy So we form new words that don’t do it justice Outlandish plans for this invention Destroying its capability to be simple beautiful and without purpose
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Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 9:01 AM UTC
******* to this earth
Is not only ordinary in the most vile sense It also lacks the creative imbalance That which pulses through the blood of cryptic elders Although being encaged in a box has the comfort of rigidity It destroys the fetus of all that pretends to be beautiful Contemptuous moments ruined Because we are weak enough to ask, why? To pander For a something as feebly human as a definition Why must everything  be placed on the hand of the glockenspiel When the world has clearly indicated The presence of a divine anomaly The trees are freezing into crocked chapels The blackened oasis tearing slightly along the buttons Through this all the celestial ambiance awaits Its complexities weave each stroke unparalleled r The urge is to destroy That which makes our eyes sting And our brains blast through the unseen hallows Riding the coattails of a blastiod This gusto is blanketed over in our simple minds Forged into a hammer and sickle Of absolute and definite terror Destroy it all All of which can chemically mix and produce A new mystical pattern of deficiencies Naked spayed on the cutting room floor We must destroy it By forcefully coding its gnome Correcting what appears to be a hint of insurrection   When we already no the what already know the why but the current answers will make us their slave They will bind us in hopeless ecstasy So we form new words that don’t do it justice Outlandish plans for this invention Destroying its capability to be simple beautiful and without purpose
Continue reading...
44
I am living, fighting, some even say I am surviving, but inside I'm dying, inside it smells of death. Where are my flowers? Thorns now burst, I've lost count of the hours spent crying, wishing for death and being teased endlessly by it, only to be told death had no room for me. I've thought about scissors in non-artistic ways, I've discovered that paper is not the only thing you can cut, I've tried teaching my lungs to breathe Father, they give up on me and every breath stings, But you specialize in rebirth, so hand me a pair of new wings. I'm tired of fighting, I'm tired of this war, I'm tired of wondering what I am here for, I'm tired of existing this way, I'm tired of these chains I wear everyday. If I am a free temple, then why do I feel encaged? Encaged in my own mind where light you won't find, locked behind bars, wishing on stars, begging scars to disappear, hoping nobody witnesses my tears.
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Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 10:26 AM UTC
Internal Bleeding
Woke up early like I always do, no matter what I'm going through I sit and contemplate my present situation, like is this life worth living or am I wasting it, I got plans for myself but with what I know, I know there's a possibility of removing it from the shelf of possibilities, sometimes I can't control myself, so I get ****** off let some shots off and restock, my life is just a ramble that needs to be reshocked like defibrillators to your live stock, cause global warming turned to climate change and they make it seem it's not an issue by keeping your mind invisibly encaged and your nose in the tissue, I've been changing, so when it comes to blaming there's no one to blame but the cats who put our work to shame, **** the industry it's why I live in infamy like the US has for practically an entire century, continuing forensically but fail to catch their own trace of criminology, instead blaming you for your ideology passed down from generations along with theology, some things are more believable like the inconceivable evil that's injected inside the bloodstreams of my people, makin them turn from people to machines, **** that I'd rather be trapped in Saturn's rings but sometimes it's hard to stop some things - This world has been ruled, dominated, and conquered for thousands of years.. I think it's about time to let that **** lay to rest - Man I've been living for quite some time, and all I've seen is the world go from a bright shine to a darkened shrine, but I guess that's what will happen when you're born into a world that's already fastened their seatbelts for a global blastin, end the nukes end the fed end the ************* who will leave us for dead while they happily sit in bed waiting for their master Satan to come in faster, the worlds a disaster but it can be fixed if everyone pitches in to dethrone their "masters", mathematical factors plotting out disasters cause they're done on purpose like previous stories remastered, some will ridicule me but it won't matter when they realize the truth that's been hidden educationally generationally, you're serviceably useful to the machine aka the system, but the system needs you, you don't need to listen
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Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 7:48 PM UTC
Never Giving Up
Woke up early like I always do, no matter what I'm going through I sit and contemplate my present situation, like is this life worth living or am I wasting it, I got plans for myself but with what I know, I know there's a possibility of removing it from the shelf of possibilities, sometimes I can't control myself, so I get ****** off let some shots off and restock, my life is just a ramble that needs to be reshocked like defibrillators to your live stock, cause global warming turned to climate change and they make it seem it's not an issue by keeping your mind invisibly encaged and your nose in the tissue, I've been changing, so when it comes to blaming there's no one to blame but the cats who put our work to shame, **** the industry it's why I live in infamy like the US has for practically an entire century, continuing forensically but fail to catch their own trace of criminology, instead blaming you for your ideology passed down from generations along with theology, some things are more believable like the inconceivable evil that's injected inside the bloodstreams of my people, makin them turn from people to machines, **** that I'd rather be trapped in Saturn's rings but sometimes it's hard to stop some things - This world has been ruled, dominated, and conquered for thousands of years.. I think it's about time to let that **** lay to rest - Man I've been living for quite some time, and all I've seen is the world go from a bright shine to a darkened shrine, but I guess that's what will happen when you're born into a world that's already fastened their seatbelts for a global blastin, end the nukes end the fed end the ************* who will leave us for dead while they happily sit in bed waiting for their master Satan to come in faster, the worlds a disaster but it can be fixed if everyone pitches in to dethrone their "masters", mathematical factors plotting out disasters cause they're done on purpose like previous stories remastered, some will ridicule me but it won't matter when they realize the truth that's been hidden educationally generationally, you're serviceably useful to the machine aka the system, but the system needs you, you don't need to listen
Continue reading...
3
Rippling waves bursting through Encaged chests springing, smashing and smashing as all love is rolling over In the Love of the abandoned ocean Breaking shells and all packaging                   a packaging             Love never wanted            All love being free       Its depths to be accessed                  For all to see              Oh the great Sea         The abandoned ocean              No one can see     Whispering sweetly it tickles         Relaxing all our stresses           Soothing our shores         As it lovingly caresses             Enticing us all in    How the abandoned ocean       tries so hard to get us         All to just jump in       Foolishly men with their    backs to the ocean stare sadly   in dismay at empty rock faces    rigorously searching under    pebbles and hidden places With all the love of the abandoned       ocean sitting behind them   Lifting itself up and over       The ocean pours its         Love all over Giant Whales start calling    Comeback comeback     We are all waiting        In an eternal forever        rhythm no stalling       just keep on pouring    Waves smash and bash breaking our cliffs and edges     That push away the Love Of this vast abandoned ocean May the Love of this ocean find its way as it smashes through hard places seeping   through hidden spaces As it penetrates us all so very very deeply     Let us all return to the       LOVE OF THIS ABANDONED OCEAN
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Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC
LOVE OF THE ABANDONED OCEAN
Rippling waves bursting through Encaged chests springing, smashing and smashing as all love is rolling over In the Love of the abandoned ocean Breaking shells and all packaging                   a packaging             Love never wanted            All love being free       Its depths to be accessed                  For all to see              Oh the great Sea         The abandoned ocean              No one can see     Whispering sweetly it tickles         Relaxing all our stresses           Soothing our shores         As it lovingly caresses             Enticing us all in    How the abandoned ocean       tries so hard to get us         All to just jump in       Foolishly men with their    backs to the ocean stare sadly   in dismay at empty rock faces    rigorously searching under    pebbles and hidden places With all the love of the abandoned       ocean sitting behind them   Lifting itself up and over       The ocean pours its         Love all over Giant Whales start calling    Comeback comeback     We are all waiting        In an eternal forever        rhythm no stalling       just keep on pouring    Waves smash and bash breaking our cliffs and edges     That push away the Love Of this vast abandoned ocean May the Love of this ocean find its way as it smashes through hard places seeping   through hidden spaces As it penetrates us all so very very deeply     Let us all return to the       LOVE OF THIS ABANDONED OCEAN
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52
I am a glutton for your LOVE Not the pink pedals from a rose. But to engulf in chills of Feelings - risen from YOU. I yearn to be wrapped in YOUR affection - that is enough. To indulge in your passion poured - From gashes but fearlessly entrust. I yearn for you to give me all of YOU The you that "you" keep encaged Is the YOU that I long to love too. I'll take all of you, have no fear. Just let loose your baggage - And let me love all of it As I live to love you and ALL That comes with it.
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Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 6:13 PM UTC
Gluttonous Passion
tonight I faced my biggest fear of a dog charging at me and not letting it get hit by a car. Unlike how you grabbed my ankles and threw me head first into a semi-truck and watching as I combusted into dust and gray feathers on our 5th anniversary. Maybe you were hoping to see a plethora of colors. Just because I tended to inhale paint  and spew it onto a canvas means nothing.  Y'know, it's awfully rude to build a house on someone's spinal cord after only biting their lip. The blood didn't fill my mouth, so I guess it didn't mean anything. So until it does, I'll wait until summer thaws the hearts of dead bodies in every concrete cemetery  so I can hear the earths core sing my favorite song, you hitting your coffee cup on our ceiling like You've Had Enough. You used to play it with your pulse so loud the walls would shake and start to erode at each crevice your song made. That poor house never stood a chance  with the way our internal screams messed with the plumbing. But that's why you're hammering nails into my vertabrae,  and that's why you keep my coat  on the tip of your tongue. So I'll have a place to call home and you'll always remember what my  lips tasted like. Vanilla and saltwater. The taste of past lovers and sweet futures you always said. But now your house is gone burnt down by the fire that is my soul after you three gasoline into my intestines to get rid of the old letters my mind sent through my veins. never say you loved the hot waters of my skin. you changed the temperature every time you got the chance. which begs the question how does one turn the dial on a heart encaged like a bird?
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Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 1:27 AM UTC
Houses don't belong on spinal cords !!!
tonight I faced my biggest fear of a dog charging at me and not letting it get hit by a car. Unlike how you grabbed my ankles and threw me head first into a semi-truck and watching as I combusted into dust and gray feathers on our 5th anniversary. Maybe you were hoping to see a plethora of colors. Just because I tended to inhale paint  and spew it onto a canvas means nothing.  Y'know, it's awfully rude to build a house on someone's spinal cord after only biting their lip. The blood didn't fill my mouth, so I guess it didn't mean anything. So until it does, I'll wait until summer thaws the hearts of dead bodies in every concrete cemetery  so I can hear the earths core sing my favorite song, you hitting your coffee cup on our ceiling like You've Had Enough. You used to play it with your pulse so loud the walls would shake and start to erode at each crevice your song made. That poor house never stood a chance  with the way our internal screams messed with the plumbing. But that's why you're hammering nails into my vertabrae,  and that's why you keep my coat  on the tip of your tongue. So I'll have a place to call home and you'll always remember what my  lips tasted like. Vanilla and saltwater. The taste of past lovers and sweet futures you always said. But now your house is gone burnt down by the fire that is my soul after you three gasoline into my intestines to get rid of the old letters my mind sent through my veins. never say you loved the hot waters of my skin. you changed the temperature every time you got the chance. which begs the question how does one turn the dial on a heart encaged like a bird?
Continue reading...
49
I have a heart That in my chest Beats like a madman ’Gainst the bars Of the gaol cell That keeps it Like a bird encaged From its mate I wear a heart Right on my sleeve That beats towards you Like a bird That’s driven south When winter calls And knows no Other destination
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Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 7:09 AM UTC
Suspension
I never thought I would've locked away a flower. I never thought I would Trap such a beautiful creature of nature. The humongous red petals Stained with water, Attracting such a wide diversity of insects. I had always believed that Gorgeous things should be set free, So it could live to it's fullest. Spread out wide in the open. And so, I never thought I would've locked away a flower. Yet my marvelous mind encaged a Beautiful beast, An imperfectly perfect plant. Locked it away for years and Hid it so deep in captivity that I could never have found it And I would never have found it Until now. Years and years and years on, Since the flower did first bloom, It's scent has finally found me and So did Understanding. The pungent stench that Reeked from the Rafflesia, It slowly seeps into the present Drowning the pretty world with Pests meant to pollinate it's seed. The truly gorgeous flowers slowly Wilt away as Evil Ovethrows Everything. I once locked up a memory so tight I never ever found it, But in the recent days, It came slowly Then like a tidal wave: Crashed down on me. The shame just filling my heart. Killing the not even alive. I never thought I would've locked up a flower. But now I wish I'd locked it back up.
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Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 9:12 AM UTC
Why They Locked Up The Princess
The gift of love, Is encaged, In your heart. Its sister, Sits as a songbird, Tweeting with my Heartbeat. No matter to the future. To what distances our Bodies doth grow. They will sing in our hearts Eternally.
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Jan 31, 2010
Jan 31, 2010 at 8:29 AM UTC
Love Birds
The moonlight sways and swine It whispers on the illumination of the stars A mirage of the skies evens the pace The stroll in the silence of the woods A haste, the heat, a taste of the kiss Amiss in the mist of the dense pastures The evoke of passion, a poison What a mission? Dissolution A destitute encaged in iron bars Redeemed to breath again Expounded in light, bounded insight A knight of a night....What a might?
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Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 2:27 PM UTC
Poisoned Passion
Hate feeling.. skin peeling.. world of hurt.. pain so pure.. Scratching nails.. down the walls.. Disrespectful.. unresolved.. feeling scared & suspecting.. drowning ties.. imperfective.. lying vows.. stupid pictures.. pushing me.. a wayward drifter.. let me leave this fake abode.. broken pieces.. left alone run away.. my deepest yearning.. downward spiral.. slowly burning.. greater trials.. approaching me.. phony manic.. eloping me.. a broken bone.. an ugly scar.. hurting when it rains.. like a former fracture.. the limb will never be the same.. falling off a tree.. I'll run the hurt away.. although encaged in this dilemma.. I know I have to stay.. I recognize the ledge, but I'll always hold the rope.. For when your balance falters.. I'll be your only hope..
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Mar 30, 2012
Mar 30, 2012 at 7:06 AM UTC
Viva Las Ruin.
"I never knew it was toxic, until I tasted freedom with love. I never knew what it was like to be loved, without being encaged. But now I can take my decisions, I can roam free. I can be loved and be my own person. I chose what I do today and forever. It was love before, it is love now. But now he loves me into independence. I discover more about myself. I find myself healing.The stifling breath, and aching sobs in my chest are slowly fading. It was love before but the bad outweighed the good. Too weak and in love to leave. But I am not a possession, I am my own person." - excerpt from a monologue of breaking free from a possessive relationship
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Jul 25, 2019
Jul 25, 2019 at 4:09 AM UTC
Prose: Breaking Free From A Possessive Relationship
7. FOOL FREEDOM AND MARTYRDOM There was once a love I had found Greater than the spheres Of all knowledge For it held it in one hand A depth that troubled and excited A love that glittered in my heart And stirred me whole That rang the bell In my enlivened cells But a slave I was Watched by day And watched by night Every moment governed By this Roman rule The Romans saw me as this orphan boy Who traveled a chaotic path But in my happiness I whistled in the wind And traveled through peoples hearts The Romans rules me closely They could see my every hand Slipping closely into this moment When love was on my left I was forced and encaged And humiliated by this Roman rule A dangerous thought Occupied my mind With the enemies attention focused Dominating and controlling my future There legion circulating My golden city of future love Torn into by darkness As this was my last chance corral With much regret I tentatively Pursued my drastic course By blowing the bridge to my golden city And opening the gates to my freedom Much noise and many arrows Rained on me from the Roman rule But they were stranded in my golden city Blind and unable to navigate For I was truly free I danced and sparkled in my freedom But at what great cost As I looked over the great raven To my golden city of love My last chance corral Had my ego baffled and betrayed me For what great sacrifice What martyrdom is this Had my ego secretly tricked me Had I sacrificed myself Nailing myself to a cross Just that i placed on a hill And raised on a cross That I may look down on my oppressor Had I been a foolish martyr As I may blow an arrow Through every verse For there are many acts we play Penetrating deeply into every moment We can clear the debris of our life As I am folded layer upon layer of madness Forged into me by the insanity of the world To find my freedom I need to Unlock many gates to my center As I am plagued by many doubts Be careful of the games in this world As there is love and freedom And I fear i missed the two of them But one day I will catch them both
0
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 4:07 PM UTC
A FOOL FREEDOM AND MARTYRDOM
7. FOOL FREEDOM AND MARTYRDOM There was once a love I had found Greater than the spheres Of all knowledge For it held it in one hand A depth that troubled and excited A love that glittered in my heart And stirred me whole That rang the bell In my enlivened cells But a slave I was Watched by day And watched by night Every moment governed By this Roman rule The Romans saw me as this orphan boy Who traveled a chaotic path But in my happiness I whistled in the wind And traveled through peoples hearts The Romans rules me closely They could see my every hand Slipping closely into this moment When love was on my left I was forced and encaged And humiliated by this Roman rule A dangerous thought Occupied my mind With the enemies attention focused Dominating and controlling my future There legion circulating My golden city of future love Torn into by darkness As this was my last chance corral With much regret I tentatively Pursued my drastic course By blowing the bridge to my golden city And opening the gates to my freedom Much noise and many arrows Rained on me from the Roman rule But they were stranded in my golden city Blind and unable to navigate For I was truly free I danced and sparkled in my freedom But at what great cost As I looked over the great raven To my golden city of love My last chance corral Had my ego baffled and betrayed me For what great sacrifice What martyrdom is this Had my ego secretly tricked me Had I sacrificed myself Nailing myself to a cross Just that i placed on a hill And raised on a cross That I may look down on my oppressor Had I been a foolish martyr As I may blow an arrow Through every verse For there are many acts we play Penetrating deeply into every moment We can clear the debris of our life As I am folded layer upon layer of madness Forged into me by the insanity of the world To find my freedom I need to Unlock many gates to my center As I am plagued by many doubts Be careful of the games in this world As there is love and freedom And I fear i missed the two of them But one day I will catch them both
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