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PEARL PSYNATCH Mar 2016
There's no mystery about the ******* ******.
Open up
insert instrument
rub it about until
sighs, screams, moans, groans, scratches, scents, and innocence escape.

Pretty simple, the ******* ******. Same with the ******* ****.
It should feel real good or something is going wrong and you'd better check with the someone within.

The resting ******? Well, that is a daily mystery of "how do I feel about this?"
'cause there's a whole bunch of weird nebulous crap going on in the daily world leaving you feeling ****** by the end of the day.

But solve that mystery with something to enlighten and entice the mood and you may just awaken

that ******* ****** again.

(The ******* ****? Well he just seems like a less introspective, more alert and easy up, easy come little fellow. Lucky chap.)
John F Pinto Dec 2013
Seriously? Positive? You’ve got to be joking me.
Optimism at it’s finest could only be realism at it’s worst.
Mesmerized by this thought, enchanted by it’s cold hard consistency
Enthralled was I to mock “positive”, and keep my lips pursed.
Then it hit me. No, it literally hit me.
If I just pound this podium a few times
Maybe I’ll channel some of doc’s “positivity”  pound podium
Ehh, guess that wasn’t a symptom; merely a sign
So what is this “battle plan”, and who really cares about mine?

I’ll tell you who, and it
Took until now for me to understand
Simply smiling is like positive quicksand

Little did I know, nor did I comprehend
Even the tiniest grin is a god-send
The mirror first, then a friend
Tomorrow is uncertain, so I recommend
Investing one in the nearest stranger
Never underestimate the smile, this game changer
Gets some through the day

Give the gift of smiles
Others need this Holiday.

Overall, there’s not even a word you need to say
For a smile is universal in every way.

This was the goal
Here was my contribution to this positive revolution:
Enlighten another soul.

The mirrors we look at every sunrise
Hair tangled, bags beneath the eyes
Internally determining how much this day is going to **** (sighs)
Now, hit rewind and you might be surprised
Getting off to a good start is simply devised:
Smile your warmest, stupidest, squintiest smile: regardless of its size

There is the secret ingredient in the positive pie
Having your hearty morning smile, with eggs on the sunny side
And this idea I vehemently used to deny
Thinking, “smile? In the morning? I’d rather die.”

Heath Ledger once said “Why. So. Serious?”
Ehh, he had a point!
Life can be a joke, especially when we’re delirious
Put the pout to the side, don’t be so furious

Unconditionally accept we all have ups and downs
Smile like an idiot, because aren’t the sounds

Involved with that deep, tear jerking laughter just
Ninety nine times better than a good morning grunt?

All I had to do was send a
Little smile in someone’s direction
Lift their spirits, make a connection

This is who cared about my “battle plan”
Hell, who knows? Maybe I even saved a man.
Ego aside, let’s do the best we can

With others, we can do our best to understand
Right from wrongs done, our own personal brand
Of happiness, that like flames needs to be fanned
Nothing is like that morning smile witnessed firsthand
Give that gift away, make it look easy and unplanned

Why? Because the unexpected gifts are the best
And to this I do attest
Yes, we have all been truly blessed:
Smile at each other and forget all the rest.

I smiled at those who passed, regardless of popular or outcast, and how I’ve seen a change. Doors have opened to relationships and thoughts I never conceived possible for a realist like me, I really was blind but now I see how powerful is this “positivity”. How much have we all grown? These seeds we’ve sown from you, to you, to you, to me, to that kid who sits by himself, to that girl who spilled her iced tea,: these are all the connections we’ve made, and there are more that would and could be if we only smile, say hello (or if we’re really brave) would you go out with me? The morning smile is the first step towards a “yes”, this is my guarantee. A smile is like a master key to all bliss (aaannnnddd maybe even a kiss ;)). Just like a great slam poet once said: “If you’ve got this (head), then you follow this (heart), and if someone ever tries to judge you, you give them this (smile)”.
Eddie Crochet Nov 2012
Just for the case you weren't aware, I did know one that always cared
With me about my woes and separate passions than just those of the
Elm and arts and bark and scream. What else could I need to be
Fixed of this world so bleak and blackened bludgeoned by the nature-
All order in the sky! - of the human race?

Yet this strange feeling does remain since that poor man's dying day;
It's since from others long forgot about their purpose pinning plots
Towards kindling spirits of the night to heights that rise into the lights
For only ostracism can enlighten the now young minds - Away, Requiem!
The rhyme for you, she's all I've known, other than your teachings, and all
I can offer until I sing with you - whence, falter on through.
Megan H Oct 2015
The way a candle dies amazes me
A strong tier of wax
Simple
With only a string within it
Dies slowly
As it gives off light
Melting wax
Drips and drips
Until all that's left is a puddle
It amazes me how
Something that gave off so much light
In times of darkness
Ended up finding itself
Sitting in the same darkness
It had tried so hard to enlighten.
Even the happiest people can find themselves in the darkness.
Larry McDonough Dec 2012
Everybody’s going nowhere and I am far gone
I can’t even see the ocean the motion was all wrong
Just a sea of broken bottles and cigarette models
On the floor, so high I had to clean the sky
Never been an existentialist, cynic, or a pessimist
Just another body on the edge of metamorphosis
Clinging to a rope I hope will not snap
Like my neck if I hit the ground, oh crap!
I’m apocalyptic fresh and I can’t say why
If I do it’s a lie, see the needle in my eye?
Meditation, preparation, or a conscious legislation
Couldn't help the fact my words are often littered with abrasions
As if shock rock poetry could save me from my death
It could possibly enlighten but I wouldn't hold my breath
Now I’m frightened by the notion of a new world order
But anarchy is hip if you’re on this side of the border
I digress, what a mess if you know what I mean
But I've burned out quicker than gasoline…
Robert Ronnow Aug 2015
Prose is unpretentious, that's its attraction. Avoids bombast of line breaks but forgoes -- what -- perfect rest. Anyway today, a November day in February, no chance getting rest with the poor clay I'm made from.

With my mother this weekend, her dementia proceeding according to what plan. Saturday the kind of day I never have. Actually read three stories by Updike. One extraordinary -- Tomorrow and Tomorrow and So Forth -- which I chose from his Complete through 1975 for the reference to Macbeth and in it he so humanely, sympathetically explains through the high school English teacher's thoughts Shakespeare's mid-life bitterness or disappointment realizing few men achieve their potential in the face of history, society and their personal flaws. Making for tragedy. Hard to be humorous about that although Updike finds in Shakespeare's late plays, especially The Tempest, a resolution amounting to wisdom that there can be contentment with imperfection and partial achievement. Updike took some of the starch out of my contention that all Shakespeare's plays are comedies, impossible to take Hamlet, Lear, Macbeth and Othello seriously. Certainly not Romeo and Juliet. It is a consolation that Updike's and even Shakespeare's achievements are imperfect although it would be wringing blood from a rock for me to achieve as much. The other two stories by Updike assured me that prose story-telling is as hit or miss as poetry. Bulgarian Poetess and How to Love America and Leave It At the Same Time made me think how fortunate I had been to find Tomorrow on the first try.

Not so much luck. I was attracted like a bee to a blossom to Shakespeare's lines in my personal anthology. No anthology and the poetry dependency it has created and I might have passed over the story. But now there is this conversation between me and all other writers. The anthology helps me know what I like but now I am tempted to try to articulate why I like what I like. Like the calendar, time and all else man lays his mind to it is a matter of bringing order from chaos by naming things according to our observations.

First, I like to understand what's going on in the poem. Not paraphrase it but describe the action. In Yeats' Lapis Lazuli, in the first paragraph, strophe or stanza, he talks about a community, a city or country, in which people, the women especially, high-toned maybe?, are upset about a political or wartime situation and are too hysterical for art or grace. Then he talks about actors playing Hamlet and Lear holding it together even though their characters die at the end of the play. No shouting, no crying. Then a paragraph or stanza about how whole civilizations are transitory too. Finally, in a reference to one of our oldest civilizations, two old Chinamen and their retainer are in the mountains. From their perspective, calm acceptance and longevity, perhaps some sadness, they look on all of history and non-history with something like gladness.

From there we can appreciate the artistry -- in Yeats' case the interesting rhymes and variable line lengths -- recognizing, however, that the artistry is not so much a demonstration of skill or a performance as the particular vehicle or discipline by which this artist discovered the content of his mind. It little matters whether verse is free, rhymed, blank, or formed as long as it is understandable and meaningful. Understandable to anyone, meaningful to someone.

The oldest formulation I have is Pound's -- the great themes of literature can be written on the back of a postage stamp. Until recently, I thought you could do it but you'd have to write very small. Now I know you can do it in your normal handwriting. I think they are Love (how we come into the world), Death (how we leave the world) and Governance (how we live in the world together). It may be possible to group Love and Death together, coming into and going out of life being similarly unknowable mysteries. The ways of talking about this one same mystery are apparently endless and endlessly fascinating. We cannot leave it alone. Almost all the greatest poems are about this mystery. Life is but a dream.

Then there is Governance -- how we live in the world together -- about which there are far fewer great poems. And usually they are about how our failure to live together leads back into the unknowable mystery through premature and sometimes mass death. Siamanto's The Dance comes to mind. I think the best poems of this type are written by so-called oppressed people.

Many poems treat both themes. But on the question of content, Pound is where I begin. My anthology -- Whole Wide World -- has a section which I'll call Double & Triple Features: Poems to Read Together, which pairs and groups poems according to my feeling that they share something -- theme, voice, structure -- in common. Subject matter is, I think, the commonest sharing. If I tried to name each pairing or grouping I might then have a hundred or more themes. Naming them adequately would be difficult to impossible. But why? And why not try? It would be a necessary start to talking about the poems: I read these poems together because....

Prose doesn't have to be beautiful, sometimes it's best when it's flat as Hemingway conclusively proved and one of its attractions is you can run on and on as long as the mind goes on following a thought without a stop sign for a whole page of books like Proust or Faulkner or Joyce.

Auden's is the second useful formulation that comes to mind (besides his chummy reverence for Shakespeare in naming him Top Bard). He classifies poems five ways:

            1. A good poem that's meaningful to him;
            2. A good poem that's not meaningful to him;
            3. A good poem that may someday become meaningful to him;
            4. A bad poem that's meaningful to him;
            5. A bad poem that's not meaningful to him.

I find I do about the same. But I discard all poems, good and bad, that are not meaningful to me. I have little taste for artistry for art's sake. The poem must speak to me or awaken me. Dickinson's formulation -- takes the top of your head off -- is the same as We can't define ******* but we know it when we see it.

A short aside: it feels inappropriate to answer the question What do you do? by saying I'm a poet. It would be like saying I'm a leader or I'm a prophet. You cannot anoint yourself a poet, a leader or a prophet -- others must do it for you. I wonder if I would be more comfortable if I had a larger audience (following) like Billy Collins for example. I think not. It would be like being a rock star, not a composer.

It's much more acceptable to say I'm a writer. Then when you answer the question Oh, what do you write? with Poetry, you are not self-aggrandizing, merely irrelevant, effete. Being a poet is viewed as being a flasher or nudist, exposing parts of yourself others would rather not see, at least not up close and personal, providing more information than others need or want to have. Maybe that's a good definition of a bad poet. Self-revelation dressed in verbal prowess is acceptable but naked, abject confession is unpardonable, tedious.

Although content is requisite for a poem to be meaningful, a poem is not really a communication like fiction or essay. It is more like an object, like a painting or sculpture, and perhaps like a musical score, sheet music. Yet I would still instruct students of poetry to first read each poem by the sentence, not the line, to derive its meaning, understand its argument, visualize its action. Then one might ask how and why is it sculpted, structured, with line breaks and strophes. Ultimately, the form of the poem is nothing more or less than the method by which the poet discovered his meaning. Although it is arbitrary -- it could have been said another way -- it is the only way it could be said by this person in this time and place. I have always liked the idea of a sculptor carving away stone or wood to reveal the form inside the block.

The poem lives on as an object, recognized by many or few or none. Like art or furniture, most are briefly useful then are moved to the attic or shed where they gather dust and mouse turds then break, dry and decay and find their way to the dump, the dust heap of history, only not even human history, just your personal history.

The anthology has made me an antiquarian -- one who cares as much for objects made by others as if I had made them myself.

So how can one talk about poems? The argument that any attempt to discuss or describe a poem is better served by simply reading the poem, perhaps memorizing it, has merit. Except in one respect -- the process can take you to undiscovered and half-discovered country within yourself. Always, first, you must understand the action otherwise we are just re-reading ourselves in our own tried and untrue ways. We must not mistake an old dog dying for a puppy being born. Misunderstanding the words is like constructing a science experiment with a flawed methodology and then using the results to shape or live in the world. It can be dangerous. Therefore reading poetry is a mental discipline worthy as the scientific method itself. It takes you out of yourself.

The fun of criticism comes in examining why and how the poem made you feel or think as you did. You can read closely for the chosen words, rhythms, lines and stanzas. You may admire the skill or wit of the poet. And you can refer to your own experience to understand your reaction. You can even disagree with the poet's thought or perception, or reject the sentiment. You can say that's him, not me.

Then there are Bloom's formulations of which I am wary, he being a critic not a poet. Yet here they are. Three sources of healthy complexity or difficulty in poems: 1) Sustained allusiveness -- cultural references that require the reader to be educated beyond the poem's content, for which he cites Milton as an example and could have Dante; 2) Cognitive originality -- leaps of perception and depths of understanding that startle, enlighten and take off the top of your head, for which he cites Shakespeare and Dickinson as examples and to which I would add much of what is memorable in modern poetry; and 3) Personal mythmaking -- whereby the poet constructs over time a system of images and personal (more than cultural) references that with familiarity become understandable and meaningful, citing Yeats and Blake as examples. How to make this formulation useful.

A second formulation by Bloom discusses poetic figures or the indirect means by which poetry uncovers truth, dancing with and romancing language rather than wrestling and pinning it down like philosophy tries. There are four: 1) Irony or saying one thing and meaning another, usually the opposite; 2) Symbol (synecdoche) or making one thing stand for another; 3) Contiguity (metonymy) or using an aspect or quality of something to represent the whole; and 4) Metaphor or transferring the qualities or associations of one thing to another.

Meanwhile, here's my **** poetica:

1) Poetry is an acquired taste, like golf or wine, with no obligation to appreciate it.

2) Poetry is divination; prose explains what we think we know but poetry discovers what we didn't know we thought.

3) Poetry is one of many man-made systems, like baseball or the scientific method, for producing knowledge, meaning and pleasure. Or are they all natural as ***?

4) Of all the other arts, poetry is most like sculpture; the word "poem" comes from the Indo- European root meaning "to make, to build."

5) It is impossible to write exactly what you mean or be accurately understood; poetry uses this to its advantage.

6) Line length -- enjambment -- is the single most important feature of poetry.

7) Poems are made from ideas; poetry is philosophy but where philosophy wrestles language down, poetry romances language.

8) Meaning is the most important product of poetry but it's completely personal; poems almost always say one thing and mean another but the poet often doesn't know what he meant.

9) It is almost impossible not to rhyme or write rhythmically in English or any other language.

10) The forms poets use are how the poet gets to his truth and are basically arbitrary choices.

11) Poems may be difficult and complex and irrational but they must be comprehensible.

12) Just describing the action of the poem will take you where you need to go.
www.ronnowpoetry.com
jeffrey conyers Aug 2012
Love enlighten me to the joy.
The joy of happiness.
Love impressed upon me.
It sincerity.

That the wonderful blessings that comes to you.
Is strictly in the way you want it too.
Remember, I'm talking about love.

You're the description of what love is?
It's the fake emotions that leaves.
It's the real form that stays.

Love takes away the pain.
After the one you thought you loved walked away.

Love impressed upon me.
That holding on to hurt.
Doesn't accomplish a single thing.

Hurt brings you down.
Turning your sweet smile into a frown.
Who needs that?

True love doesn't let you sleep.
It constantly keeps you awake.
Remember, I'm talking about love.
DM May 2013
Startoucher says things like 'thanks man',
Vic says 'roller-coasters are fun',
D.E offers wisdom and hope for us all,
Destiny speaks to us in rhythm and rhyme,
Donie could win the Triple Crown,
Unknown follows me,
Even if I'm not around,
Bala is the father I wish I had,
Vircapio Gale is a love unfound,
Shaqila incites a riot in me,
Francisco DH is a poet unbound,
Destiny scares me, so touches the heart,
P.G is awesome with opinions that smart,
Olga V. Is the first one I followed,
'I cannot hurt if I don't know
tomorrow',
If anyone is missed,
It is not by intent,
For all have provided,
My soul nourishment,
So I can say,
I grieve in that sorrow,
As all of you've said,
I don't lend,
I just borrow.
Andrew Rueter Jun 2018
Asleep alone
I got the light scare
Of a nightmare
With my plight there
Which wouldn't fight fair

Awake awaits
Chirping is all I hear
Dragging life into focus
Getting the lens clear
To see things are hopeless
My aches and pains
Are my body's refrain
To remind me of existence
Despite my mental resistance
I am lucid
I take my shoelace
And loop it
To run a new race

Timidly trembling
The violence in my dreams
Matches the silence and screams
That defile us and our team
Making the nightmares real
And the pain I can feel
So it's love I steal
A devil's deal
Hell unsealed
I can hear the vultures chirping
Or maybe they're just burping
Out the demons I ignored
My forgiveness they implored
To meet a silent scorn
Like a muted tribal horn
Banishing them to another realm
With my ostracism at the helm
Until the lonely are overwhelmed
And I see the error of my ways
Once I'm part of this chaotic haze

Practically paralyzed
I am lost
In this game
I've met the boss
He and I the same
He is a voice
Chirping in my ear
Saying I have no choice
I should give in to fear
And just drink beer
Until the end is here

Carelessly comatose
The birds that once sang beautifully
Now retreat dutifully
When they see my thoughtless anger
Turn me into a ruthless stranger
Creating danger
For those living righteously
They start fighting me
Trying to enlighten me
Which is only exciting me
Because I lack the sight to see
What the world could be
If we could harmonize
Like the birds
Not using argent lies
But soothing words
Yet there is no tax exemption
For my reluctant redemption
So my mind invented
No incentive

Soul slaughtered
The tear jerking
Birds chirping
Constantly remind me
Inside my sleep they find me
Thrusting me into a life unwinding
Through my window the sun is blinding
When I start to fear my brother
After seeing mirrors in others
Reflecting my attitude
Of ingratitude

I had a nasty nightmare
Of Camp Crystal Lake
Filled with misfit flakes
Paying for their mistakes
With pain and suffering
As deep as a submarine
Being torn apart
For every decision
Hiding their heart
To avoid incisions
And once all these losers are slain
The birds chirping start a new day
Can be found in my self published poetry book “Icy”.
https://www.amazon.com/Icy-Andrew-Rueter-ebook/dp/B07VDLZT9Y/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=Icy+Andrew+Rueter&qid=1572980151&sr=8-1
Lawrence Hall Feb 2019
“...you don’t have to be indoctrinated by these loser teachers
that are trying to sell you on socialism from birth.”

- Donald Trump, Junior

Have at it, little prince - I was called worse
When I came home from Viet-Nam; I’m sure
Your father could tell you about the pain

And now

A usage lesson follows my poor verse:


The relative pronoun following “teachers” should be “who,” not “that.”




I am at your service, your highness.
Jayanta Apr 2014
I was on the way to find out my destination,
It was a rugged terrain without shed of trees on the road side,
Burning Sun shine on the top of my head and
Stony patches below my foot,
On a junction of the two roads,
You came out!
With …..
“Generous green of forest in our face,
Deepest blue of ocean in your eyes,
Melodious wind of mountain valley on your hair and
Splendid light of the don on your smile”,
As if this new path after this junction
going to lead me to the nature’s own womb.
Conversely, when we face each other you asked
‘Who I am?’ and ‘where I am going to?’
I was surprised; no one poses such questions to me on this long walk,
But I have already comes a crossed the Security man with gun in their hand,
The Beggar with stony beggaring plate in their hand,
The Food vendors with hot food in their basket,
The Knowledge tycoon with bag of books on their shoulder,
The Political guardian with embryonic power in their muscle,
No one asked any thing!
Not even look at me!
Probably for them either ‘I was insignificant or invisible!’
But your questions,
Compel me to think about my identity,
I don’t have a search engine,
to take help  from  the world wide web of identity,
So, when observing you with sensors of Imagination, Emotion and Cognition,
I found my lost identity in you,
As your child everything rooted in you,
Than I started to walk with you
Just to get the aspiration of living planet and
To protect you from the spite of ownerships, rationality, consumerism,
and demonstrationist humanity.
But after a while,
Every one started to pose question,
“Who I am?”
“Why I am walking with you?”
“How I get the right to do so?”
Than I replied my scruples enlighten me to do so!
No one understands ‘what I replied?’
Now the Political guardian of the society starts a campaign,  
The knowledge baron prepared software for this operation,
The beggar and food vendor distributing the literature with illustrative interpretation,
That…..  
“People like me are threat to the society”!
“This is an evil force of our society”!
Tomorrow…..
The security man going to declare a ‘decree’ on
Emotion, Conscience, Humanity and Love.  □□
idk
enlighten me
somebody just told me to do that,but its hard to swallow.
Sam Temple Jun 2014
typewriter rhythm
clacking away new beats
tempo exchanges
computer lab concerto
fair-weather phonetics
hunt and peck symphony
symbolic of the system
poking at inmates
pecking at the enforcers
attempting to gain an education --
floating above the ruckus
offering research aid
I sit at the desk seeking only to enlighten
service work for those
suffering servitude
serfdom
post-modern slavery
complete with subsidies
scamming the con-men --
white house looks best
through prison barred windows
Cheyanne Lemons Feb 2015
Everytime we close our eyes,
Trying to remember our mother's lullabies
Warm tears, sparkling like diamonds
Running down our cheeks, hiding behind eyelids

When we look in the mirror and all we see is hate
There is no one to break our fall except fate

We judge our eyes, ear, and...oh did I mention that nose is fake
You people are fickle, you criticize until we break

They say "God" created us all equal and that beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
But how can you say that, you hypocrite, let that smolder

Because while you sit on a throne of discrimination
We scramble and hide to find our place in this nation

He can't even go home to his family because of his ****** domain
He loves his partner but his fathers inane

She breaks her back at work everyday, does more than any man will ever do in a decade
But still riding on her gender, her paycheck begins to fade

And when you see us crawling, fighting with need
You kick us down for the feeling of greed

He tries to get a job and because of the complexion of his pigment,
They don't hire him, nada, that's the end of this segment

She walks down the street covered from head to toe, with only her eyes to show
It's her beliefs but that doesn't make the ***** looks a lesser blow

We fee; the hurt and the pain everyday.
While you sit on your ***** in Tampa Bay

And when we can't be accepted in society,
We don't know any other way for prosperity

So we find a way to numb the pain
The drugs, the razor biting the skin, the *** with mysterious men
Anything with a gain

Please don't hurt us, please don't shut the door in our faces
Because we always seem to wake up in stranger places

Believe us, because this world should not be dog eat dog, it should be full of empathy
Way past the point of poetic sympathy

Break our bones, our courage, our love but inspite of it all
We fight on so that we're with the ones we love on the day that we fall

Drag us out and hang us like a beacon
Because we are not the ones who should be beaten

We are the kings of the world, no prejudice only love
Because love is love even when push comes to shove

Please enlighten us on how being different is bad
And we promise you, despite the real truth, we won't be mad

He's in love with his boyfriend. He asked him just last week to marry him
Never to break his vows until they bury him

She's a single mom of three kids, always making sure they have a good life
But in spite of it her bosses always cut her down with a knife

And he needs to pay for his wife's kemo
Every night he's struggling to ask from people at his mother's Bingo.

And when she walks down the street, she takes pride in what she believes
Always wondering why the man in the window is angry at what he sees

This is us in every way.
We know you wish this was just friendly foreplay

But we will bury you, smolder you with the ashes of our last exhumation
Without you this world would have a better function

Ok, maybe we're astray from the norm
But who says we won't be the end of this petty storm

Dose us with gasoline, light us a flame,
Watch us burn at the stake like it's a game.

But we'll shine so brightly you won't want to fuss
Because, in the end, you'll finally see US.
Arik Fletcher Feb 2010
Glittered gold, angelic light,
glimmers through the darkest night,
guiding those who feel its might,
down the path of hope and right.

Silver haze, a cloudy mist,
enclosed within a mortal kist,
confusing those who cannot see,
the ways of peace and destiny.

Warm embrace, a sacred hold,
encased against demonic cold,
saving those who know its name,
from that dark eternal shame.

Shadow cast, unholy cloud,
appears to all a deathly shroud,
calling those who must repent,
and save their souls from dark descent.
Nekatu Poetry © Arik Fletcher
MonkeyZazu Jul 2014
In my cloudy eyes,
blurred visions of sadness,
storms rage without fear.
In this furry, tears
spur out of the madness
and die.

Those, they who see it all
lost in the real,
struggling,
enlighten us to the
hard knock truths of life
while everyone else stumbles
in and out of fairytale dreams and illusions
of which have no meaning.

Dieing before their time
storms continue to rage
not only in my eyes
but in my heart.
Their words
etched into eternity
forever echoing
reassuring that
they don't die silent.
R.I.P suicide poets and writers.
I have fallen into the snare of love; whether or not I wish it, I must love; and strugglingly, whether or not my heart desires to taste it, I have to go through it. I have tried, certainly, with beads of weird sweat, to crawl along its muddy channel; a muddy channel adorned only with tears and grievousness, but still I have failed to pass it. I have failed to pass my heart onto it, my poor little heart; and relieve it with comfort love might just ever have.

How I once desired to call thee, hath now ceremoniously gone; my stomach flips and churns itself like a whirling streak of poor butter being invaded by endless chains of ***** charms. My heart is plain, bleak, and can only whisper to me the pain it feels; my heart has beats still, but neither air nor breath. Its air has been radiantly tossed away; and superseded by a chance of madness it had always averted--at least before the very incident took place. It is now, thus, pale and has no shimmer nor glitter on its surface; its tale is as bare as a thin wintry raspberry branch might be. Ah, Immortal, my Friday morning; my Saturday evening; my Sunday afternoon. Immortal; with his faded grey hat strolling comfortably alongside a smiling me; our love was growing mutually on a warm Saturday morning. I told thereof, some minuscule bits of anecdote-like poetry; and his laugh afterwards warmed up all the butterflies that had hitherto laid down lazily around the grounds on their coloured stomachs. Immortal with his arduous bag hoisted onto his sturdy shoulders; and greeted me softly, with a rough morning voice; as he padded down the stairs--smelling like honey and trees and a flying bumblebee. Immortal with his love settling onto his voice; his shaky lips as he uttered a verse he remembered from a novel he had (unsuccessfully) tried to read. Immortal with his reddish lips, and innocent brownish glances--as he walked down the stairs. Immortal with my love encircling every swing of his steps; Immortal with my little heart within him. Immortal my dearest darling; his treasures were always brown--at least twice a week, and the smell of his perfumed blossom-like shampoo clinging all too gently onto the way down his white neck, and waist.

Immortal in his black garments in last year's cold weather; and with a witty smile so meaningful that he was once like a candle to my darkened heart. Immortal and his bored face that always entertained my heart; and his anxiety about immaculate workloads that made everything but funnier than they already were. Ah, Immortal, Immortal, Immortal; my very own Immortal. Though thou might be Immortal no more, in thy mind; thou really art still my Immortal in every sense; and I can still but feel thy presence even from a very far distance. Immortal, thou art my blood; my jugular veins, and the definition of my very heartbeat! Immortal, how I am a fool to have confessed this; thou might remember me no more; but for thou knoweth--thou art my prince still, of whom I feel the humblest streak of pride; and for whom I shall still wipe my showering tears. Ah, Immortal! One day I had just emerged from my room with a jug of warm water, and a flavour of strange poetry in my literary mind; and my Immortal greeted me with a stamp of melancholy smile as he always does when he retreats from work. He looked tired but not submissive; he had a rain of spirit still--for the remaining ingress and egress of the raucous Monday evening. I was, indeed, explosively exhausted from my head all the way to my feet--and a lurid chat with him slowly melted my stern visage and restored its gleams. Ah, Immortal; my lover, my shiny petal; the missing wing of my eastern soul; my European moon. He is from Sofia; as how its chaotic--yet elaborative auras always danced around his face. The charms of Sofia were even better scented in his breath; he was always prophetic about the skies and the red-skinned suns of the summer. He thoughtfully suggested that I write of 'em; he breathed his relief and exhaustion only into my hands, how he trusted me and depended himself on me like a selfish little lad! On other occasions laughed with a pair of red cheeks--is aromatic and handsome my lover, indeed he is! My poor, poor lover; for the world hath now defined its triumph over him; and thus its terrifically evil proses his very regions. Ah, my darling, if only still-I could save, save, and save thee! Ah, 'em--doth thou, by any chance, hold any remembrance of 'em still? Our blessed, blessed offspring--and they but shall be nurtured and overjoyed and delightfully pampered, as the very special fruits of our love. The love that both of our souls enjoy; the love that our sides agree on. Your fatherliness is in our son; and just as how I am, our daughter shall enlighten our home with her poems; ah, dear, dear little giggles t'at would be ours, and verily ours only! Ah, Immortal, if only thou but knew--how panoramic my wifely love would be!

Immortal, my darling; my purplish sun; my picturesque sky; my starlet dream. Even the oceans across our splendid earth are not vacant, and innocent, as thy eyes; thy words are like a calming river whose odour once shrieked gently onto my ears. Every breath thou maketh is my poem; and thus in every single poem, or verse I write--there dwells a vast bulk of thy charms. Thou art alive still--in my lungs; in my humorous soul; thou art the eve to my nights; the leaf to my mornings. Even the only leaf that shall stay firm when autumn finally arrives. But unfortunately shall it arrives with dire terms; for shall it have revenge--due to its savagely desperate needs for reclaiming its once lost freedom. Ah, its freedom, that was consumed away by the compounded fires of the summer. Then, still there shall be no-one to replace thee, even about the adequate hills and valleys outside; I could find thee not this jubilant afternoon. Oh, how unceremonious! And how malicious my love is, for thee! And our song is, for thou knoweth, resembles the one echoing in yon marvelous Raphaelite painting; my hair sings of your love; just as my poetry speaks of thy bounteousness. Thou art not Him; but still--thou art more bountiful to my heart, than to all our frail counterparts may seem!

And by this I am still your little girl; I shall play with my bike and congratulate thee on crafting off the last bits of my poetry. Like in a nursery once, though I doth remember it thoroughly not; I played with my dolls and later created a bride and groom out of them; I shall perhaps play with them again and make the remembrance of our now astray marriage, this time, their illusionary sanctuary. Ah, Immortal, this love might be virtual--and thus not by any chance effectual; but do remember, in thy severed heart, that it was once real; and that it was, long ago, deeply heartfelt and actual. Immortal, the king of my moon; the very last spark of my charms, I hope thou wilt know one day--how I selflessly loved--and love thee still, purely and artistically, just as how I loveth His other creations and my beautiful poetry; and that I shall still supplicate that you be the first, and last mate in my arms-- for my love is sacred, humid, and eternal; and I want thee thus, to be my only immortal.

I love thee; and thee only, querida. Obicham te, obicham te, obicham te.
I went above the roof of my so-called humble home;
Don't think I'm feeling lonely just because I'm alone;
My older brother is present maybe he is fast asleep;
Even my friends and loved ones have dark secrets they hide and keep;

I don't mind I have done much worst than you can think of;
Honestly, it doesn't bother me, there are many crucial problems we need to solve;
If we keep our eyes closed then yes we can smile, laugh drowning ourselves in ecstasy with bliss;
That is fine with me if everyone can do it, but if we see what is truly happening around us and we have a beating heart, tears in our very eyes would not cease;

If I just want to do what I wanted I would love to be with the girl, the woman who saved me, maybe hopefully I honestly love;
But If horrible war and all the crazy things around the world are still going on, what's the sense of everything I'll do, please enlighten me those who hear me from above, all your blessings I'll grab;

If I'll inspire the younger generation will it work?
I have already made many unacceptable things I'm worst than a ****;
If I do good or bad in the standard of this world could it make everyone happy and smile?
I lived in the City of smiles, but can every people be truly happy in facing life's trials?

All the ugly, disgusting things I've done whatever they are I don't deny it;
Some of it makes me stupid, a good-for-nothing fool any word you're hungry to add, no good all bad,
and at times makes me lose hope and end the very life I have;
but no I'll embrace every experience I have and endure all the aftermath and still fight, I'll never quit;

Honestly, I'm tired of pleasing people, but deep inside I want to please that girl/woman who saved me;
And most of all the one who gave me my life the one who created me;
Other people call the Father I know God or whatever any other name for the source of all creation;
So if it's fine for you, whoever reading this let me call the one who created me, my Father the one I invoke if I need immense inspiration;

Forgive me if the words I use bother anyone of you;
Yes I know, I have trouble using them, if only you have a clue;
If I'll be true in everything I do and say;
Can every ear and heart handle it? If it's the answer to every problem will you follow each step of the way?

If I'll be a righteous pious zealous man with the grace of our Creator in just one snap overnight;
Would anybody follow me and do the same and leave all the wrongdoings which are unpleasing to every sensible rational being's sight?
Yes, I know every human being have their principles, ideologies whatever philosophy in living;
But in life and death situations you can truly see if what you are looking and standing for is worth dying;

Yes, it's easy to say words, sing songs, write poems, or whatever at this time and age;
But you can only know what is true if your very life is at risk and face your life's unpleasing page;
When I was younger I easily get into a rage and make a reckless decisions;
But now I can just act like I'm angry with good intentions;

Yes at times I get ****** when someone, anyone bothers me;
And at times I get so cold everything vanishes in my sight not a single soul worth for me to see;
At times I wish this world could be a paradise once more;
But at times when I get blinded I wish this world would tremble to its very core;

The things I say may appear so vicious and malicious;
Isn't we human beings capable of that, kindly answer that, and don't be pretentious;
In my experience it is true I could do the worst possible thing I can imagine;
I don't care if you list my name in every sin;

But no I still have hope and dreams for the future of our world and every living being staying in this place we are sharing;
Who the hell I am to make a change in this world, I know one thing in the vastness of creation I am nothing;
That is why I have nothing to gain or to lose;  
I could just do nothing and be safe and wait for my story to end or simply die but now I'll be reckless and say things I bottled up, forgive me if that is what I choose;

I say these things because I see and feel what is happening here and around;
Violence is just around the corner great or small even in our very selves it can be found;
I don't say these things to put anyone down or destroy people's hope;
I just say what is true, but we need to face it and hold on to that redemptive rope;

Many of us want solutions to the problems we encounter may they be great or small;
But when the answers to the problems are facing us, some of us run and roll;
Sorry, I'll say a ***** word influenced by a well-known country;
**** it I'll spend all day writing until I'll run out of words even If I will sound crazy;

Honesty I'm not comfortable using this English language;
I love to speak in my mother tongue or just be silent but I need to do what is needed in our time and age;
Writing this, whatever you may call this would not give me anything;
but who knows it can stir something, make bells ring;

The first concern that comes to my mind is the
extreme weather and war;
Let me think about what will I talk about first
cause both things can leave bitter scars;
Many of us are always in a hurry to go somewhere;
We use and ride vehicles or any transportation that pollutes the air just to mention a few and say yes we still care;

Oh! I want to say the ***** word! but can we be true to ourselves and swear to vanish into existence or simply die?
If we including you and me human beings with our endless activities are the cause of extreme weather conditions please to ourselves don't we lie;
Can we give up the things that contribute to the devastation of our planet our home?
Or settle for a half-*** lukewarm solution and wait for the worst then we all tremble to our very bones;

Let me ask, those who have homes or shelter you frankly love to spend your time staying in every day;
What will you do if a pest or anything is destroying it I ask this nicely anyway;
Likewise our common home our planet called earth do we honestly take care?
Or just open our eyes every time there is a calamity happening anywhere;

Then close our eyes once more when it seems peaceful and calm;
Knowing we're slowly gradually contributing to our world's injury, I don't express this to everyone but maybe some;
I don't know maybe I have already done unimaginable damage to our planet;
If so I'll face any consequences but please let us do the things needed to be done before we all fall and regret;

I don't forget I'm just passing by spending some time in this world of ours;
If I ask forgiveness and do nothing to solve the problems, It's better to die or stay behind bars;
Let's not play dumb, we know we human beings are so intelligent;
Isn't human beings invented things that could destroy our world does that sound excellent?

Let us learn and go back to history what occur to that country Japan;
If that emerges once more, I don't know if we could still have some fun;
Wait I'm not done, why do we follow leaders or rulers who lead us to a pit;
I don't know if I have a leader who is like that the hell with him/her I'll quit;

Why don't those leaders fight their war and leave others be;
Imagine you're peaceful and someone bothers you or me;
They want peace and want to talk it out but they are ready to ****;
What on earth is wrong with our heads, we need to check it out is that the first thing we need to heal?

I have heard enough of myself writing in a foreign language;
With all due respect I'll use another for the next page;
Bato bato sa langit ang ma igo please wag tayo always galit;
Pasensyahi lang ko kung kis-a syado ko ka kulit kag bua-ngit kis-a gani ako yagit;

Ang panit ko medyo nang ***-om sang sulay sa adlaw;
Pero ako man kis-a maka yuhom kag ginagmay maka kadlaw;
May ti-on sang una nga ako daw isa ka patay nga ga balang-balang;
Mayu lang damu nag salbar sa akon, kag ako na banhaw kag daw alang-alang na mag talang;

Pero samtang ga ginhawa pa ako hindi ko ka hambal sang tapos;
Ka nugon sang mga tinaga kung indi mapasaburan kag mapabay-an lang nga gaka pan-os;
Sa tuod lang ka tawhay diri sa gina tiniran ko na panimalay;
Simpli lang ang kabuhi ga biya biyahi e-bike ga dul-ong sang pasahero nga ga sakay;

Sinsilyo ginagmay, biskan ang balay gani indi mani akon;
Salamat sa akon amay kag iloy daw ara lng sila gihapon;
Buenas lang ko sa mga grasya na akon na baton;
biskan wala na gani si nanay ga sulod gyapon iya pensyon;

Para sa SSS kung may sala man ko na himo ari lang ko sa balay kung ako inyo dakpon;
Kay kung mag sulod pa gihapon sa atm pwede ko pana ma gamit sa amon galastuson;
Wala ko kabalo kung inyu na gina hungod;
Bangud gatingala man ko ang grasya wala ga untat sulod;

Kay kung sa inyu layi dibala dapat wala na nga grasya ma sulod tani;
Pero kung sigihon ninyu pasulod ay ka tahum kanami;
Pero ka balo man ako damo na may ma batikos kag ma hisa;
Pasensyahi lang ako batunon ko na ang ihambalon ninyu tuod man gina paguwa sang akon dila;

Daw ka bug-at abi kung ang isa ka tawo may gina tago tago;
Amo ina nga tanan ko nga sala bahala kamo mag sintensya kay ako kadali lang mag ako;
Dumduman ko sang gamay pa ako na mana ko kay tatay nakon and iya hapo;
Medyo hubin pa ko kabalo na man ako kung ma patay ako kung diin ako ma kadto;

Sang gina ataki ako sang asthma daw ma bugto ang ginhawa kag daw ma ubos akon pwersa;
Gina hulat ko ang akon nanay nga ga langoy sa lamesa pero okay lang na siya intindihan ko na;
Natun-an ko sa kabuhi hindi man permi permi ara aton mga abyan biskan pamilya;
Amu ina sang amu to nga ti-on nag tawag ako sa kung sin-o man sa akon nag hurma nag tuga;

Kung lantawon ko gani liwat ang na tabo; akon man to sala nga ako gina hapo;
Sa bisyo ko na sigarilyo kag pahubog na inom;
Na ani ko lang mga bagay na akon gin tanom;

Amu ina mga kabataan indi manami kung inyu ma agyan ang akon na agyan;
Kay kadamo nga dalan ang akon na laktan;
May ara man kasanag kag mga matahum;
May tyempo man nga kala-in kag ka dulom;

Pero salamat sa nag patilaw sang kabuhi sa nag tuga sa akon;
Ako ari paman gasulat buhi pa man sa giyapon;
Pero balik ta sa isturya sang tyempo kag klima;
Kag kung anu anu pa ang gaka tabo isa pagid na ang mga giyera;

Sa tuod lang matyag ko ang kabuhi ko daw ako na hampangan na tripan;
Wala ko kabalo kung tungod sa mga gina sulat sulat ko, ahay ewan;
Sang una mag sulat ko kung ano ano daw wala man may ga sapak;
Pero subong ambot hindi lang ko sure daw hindi ko ka giyo kag ka palak;

Wala ko gani ka balo ngaa amu ini ang na agyan ko na direksyon;
Wala man ko ga riklamo biskan anu subong akon ma dangpan na sitwasyon;
pasalamat lang ko ka tilaw man ko mabuhi nga isa ka tawo;
Nga maka dumdum sang mga memorya kag maka paminsar sang mga bagay-bagay sa
sulod sang akon ulo;

Intindihan ko man ang iban mahambal sagi ka sulat wala mana pulos usik lang na tyempo;
Pasensyahi lang ko kay gamay lang akon kalipayan amu lang ini mahatag ko sa inyu;
Labay man lang akon na pamangkot kung ikaw abi gaan chansa kag ti-on;
Himo-on ka isa ka lider, presidente, prime minister; okon hari na may mansyon anu una mo na obrahon?

Sa mga bagay bagay kag gaka tabo sa aton subong nga panahon;
Kung kis-a gaka lipat kita biskan sa kahoy may pulos man na iya mga dahon;
Biskan ano kapa ka gamay kung kita tanan ga binuligay indi ayhan ina matawhay?
Kung ikaw abi isa ka lider okon amay nami-an kabala nga kita mag inaway-away?

Hindi ko ka intindi ngaa ang mga tawo ga pinatyanay;
Kung amu man lang ni ang bwas damlag sang mga kabataan mayu pa mag tulog na ga tulo ang laway;
Katawhay tani galing kung amu sina daw tinamad na man na daw buhi nga patay;
Dibala sang una kita tanan basi gina kugos man lang sang aton nanay okon tatay kag kung kis-a man mga tupad balay;

Ngaa dapat kung ga dako nata dapat gid bala mag dako man aton mga ulo haw?
Pyerdihon man ta gihapon sang baka kag karabaw may dala pa na sungay ka luoy man galing kis-a sa ila kung sila gina ihaw;
Sabagay ga mahal na man mga balaklon pati mga pagkaon;
Medyo maayo mana siguro ang sustansya sang utan para sa aton;

Kis-a maka hambal kita bay-e dira ang mga gaka tabo wala man ta gaka epiktohan;
Te kung ikaw gaan isa ka blessing para maintindihan mo, ibutang ka sa ma-dulom kag pwerti ka teribli na dalan sang kabuhi para ma inat imo nga paminsaron kag balatyagon kag imo ma intindihan;
Gina pangabay ko lang na imo ma sarangan ang mga leksyon sang kabuhi na tani aton tanan ma tun-an;
Buenas lang mga tawo nga permi lang sa masanag kag manami na dalan ang gina agyan, indi man siguro tanan;

Sa kadamo sang kala-inan nga na himo ko Amay nga nag tuga sa akon pasensyahi kag sintensyahi na lang ako;
Kung may butig kag indi matuod sa akon gina sulat subong maayo pa kilatan mo na lang ako;
Ako nga nag sulat sini isa ka tawo na indi perpekto sa mata sang mga tawo;
Ginoo Amay ko nga nag tuga sang akon ulo, mata, paminsaron, corazon kag ini mga kamot gabayi lang ako;

Sa kada tinaga nga ma sulat ko diri subong tani makabulig hilway sa akon kaugalingon kag balatyagon;
Kay mag abot ang ti-on na kina-hanglan ko ini balikan kag basahon may gabay na ako sa akon distinasyon;
Sa isturya na man sa akon kabuhi ang pahina parti sa gugma romantiko kag relasyon;
Sa edad ko subong na traynta-uno sa gugma
romantiko na aspeto daw bata-bata pa ako wala kabalo kung ano akon himo-on;

May ara ako na luyagan sa isa ka malayo na lugar;
Sa pwerte ka luyag ko sa iya kung kis-a wala ko kabalo kung ano obrahon ko daw indi ako mag andar;
Wala ko kabalo kung ako lang na luyag sa iya kag siya wala man ya sa akon;
Biskan gusto ko na buy-an ang luyag na akon gina dala gabalik man ako sa iya giyapon;

Ka ilinit na balatyagon nga daw ga kurog na corazon kag dughan;
Daw mahibi kung kis-a akon nga mga mata nga daw gal-um kag ga tubod na bagyo kag ulan;
Nga-a amu ini kung ma luyag-luyag ko haw kung maayo ang relasyon grabi ma hatag nga inspirasyon;
Kag kung buy-an ko na kag indi pag ibato ang sa sulod sang akon balatyagon daw delubyo ang dala kag distraksyon;

Paano ko ayhan mapa luyag sa akon ang na luyagan ko;
Tudlo-i ninyu man abi ako ga ayo ako sang sinsiro;
Okon buy-an ko na lang kag indi pag i-pilit sa iya ang kaugalingon ko;
Palihog please prangkaha na lang ako kung wala na ako pag-asa sa imo;

Ka balo man ako damo man mas responsabli nga maka palangga sa imo;
Hambali lang ko kung ano obrahon ko kay indi na ako mag sinabad sa imo;
Pero dako na salamat sa ti-on na gin bangon mo ako sa pag ka dasma nga gapa luya;
Biskan ano akon napanghimo na mga sala ara kaman giyapon naga uyat kag wala nag buya;

Pasensyahi lang akon mga tinaga kung ako daw wala sing huya;
Sa bagay kung sa mata sang mga tawo indi man ta bagay kay ikaw prinsesa ako ya kabalan na dukha;
Mabalik na man ako sulat sa ling-gwahi na hapos para sa imo ma intindihan;
Para ini sa babayi binibini sa malayo na lugar na akon na luyagan;

Not all letters at a post office are meant for everyone to read;
Not everyone in this world can make my heart and head gradually bleed;
For the woman who captured my frozen flaming heart;
From far away you are may you read this with your heart this annoying art;

If I bother you before let me do it once more;
I can't wield this feeling deep inside my core;
A woman whose 1st name starts and ends with A;
This part of this letter is for you, I'm expressing today;

Forgive me if I've been reckless and will be in my actions and words, I write and say;
The way I am now and before can you accept me I ask you in a sincere polite way;
I write this not because I'm angry or happy just trying to keep in touch;
You have made me your slave a prisoner you made me crazy in many good ways I can't say
too much;

I have nothing great to offer you to make you truly happy;
I know millions of others can love you more and you can be;
Honestly, it makes me jealous if you'll be in the arms of someone;
But I have no right to do that for in your life maybe I'm just no one;

If it is God's plan for you and me to be apart in heart be far away;
It's not God's fault or yours but mine cause many times both of you I have dismayed and maybe betrayed;
I have played the game called life and I have no cheat code to win it;
I have times I'm on the straight road and at times fall to a pit but still, I never quit;

Even a writer just can edit and at times unnecessary messages he can delete;
And a witty singer can sing passionately so bitter and at times so deliciously sweet;
You made my heart beat truly beat in a romantic sense;
And at times in your presence I feel intensely tense;

We live in a dense world full of amazing people;
But I wonder in love and madness for you I fall;
I understand and know what I need to do or my Father's/Creator's/God's call my duty to do;
But if I pour my life and my heart into you I don't ask you to do the same I don't want to control you;

Forgive me if I'm madly obsessively falling in love with you;
Correct me if I'm wrong honestly this feeling I have for you I have no clue;
All I know now about me and you without you I'm so blue;
I want to please you in every way at times I can no longer be at ease and be true;

Please tell me what I need to do to capture your heart;
Or just even give me a place there to be a part of, just even a tiny part;
If you can make me your friend honestly for me it's enough;
But if you ask my heart what it truly wants for me it will be rough;

I dream of a future for you and me to be a happy family;
But who I am in your life now I don't know I'm lost I can't see;
Just tell me sincerely if in your life I don't have a chance;
If even a small there is I could leap for joy and madly dance;

But I don't want to manipulate or control you I want you to be free;
To say and do what you want and need truly even if it's not me;
Don't worry I can take it gracefully if you reject me I'll move on;
But the blessings you gave me the hope I'll treasure it and never be gone;

Please don't think if my heart will fall into pieces I'll become a monster;
Don't worry about that God is watching me our Creator the one I call Father;
If I accept the good things in life is it not fair to accept also the little trials;
Sometimes it's also good to shed some tears and cry not every time just laugh and smiles;

I'll do everything within my capability to make this world a paradise;
But without the grace of our creator God, our common Father I'm just a foolish man not wise;
So don't worry to reject me I just want us to be free;
If only I own all the things in this world or a castle for you to be;

If that will make you truly happy how I wish I would be a king;
And make every people our family and we could share a meal a home have fun and you can sing;
I know it may sound crazy and impossible but who I am now I'm happy, a life of simplicity is simple;
One thing I remember my mother wrote a note on a book she gave me, it says always be humble;

I'm afraid to be as powerful and rich as the kings;
It's not a joke to have all that and the possibilities it brings;
One thing I know is that everything I have is temporary;
The things I have, my mind my body, talents, and everything within me;

Only by the test of time, we would know;
If we'll be blessed with old age we can still live and grow;
Forgive me if I did not sound so romantic;
At distant seas we are apart I'm not sure the whereabouts maybe the Pacific and Atlantic;

But deep inside my heart I only wish the best for everyone especially you;
If we're not meant to be for each other I'll accept it but please let us be true;
I write this part of the letter for the woman whose name starts and ends with A;
I wish the best for you and in my heart, you already have a place to stay;

I'll just end here for now but I'm not yet done;
I hope I can hear from you even if in your life maybe you want me gone;
I have nothing to offer you to truly genuinely make you happy;
But if you are already truly happy with your life I will be happy too it resonates with me;

Now, this part of the story is for everyone for a human being who has an open heart;
Can we welcome someone anyone maybe a stranger in a time so dark;
Can we replenish what is missing from someone unknown to us what they lack;
Or just ignore an unpleasant stranger in our hearts we put a block, chain it and lock;

If someone needs something to eat just to survive and be alive are we willing to give;
If a homeless hopeless stranger knocks on our door will we accept them where we live;
If someone or anyone truly essentially needs something a matter of life and death that degree of importance;
Will we give or share and sacrifice what we have even if it hurts or put a lock into our hearts and do nothing but glance;

If every open-hearted people in our world who don't want and need war will unite;
And strive extremely to heal not only our heads but also our planet and disobey those who commands us to do violent actions and senseless fight;
Will we give time or a chance a shot for that matter;
Or just go with the flow and do our day-to-day routine to obtain our bread and butter;

Is it possible for all of us just for a day or a week to have a leave like a worldwide collective vacation;
To stop and cease anything which is harming any living creature/being and let the planet breathe, maybe mother earth is already in a state of suffocation;
Or can we just sit somewhere and be still whatever you may call it prayer or meditation;
I don't know I'm just giving an idea but maybe anyone there somewhere has a better answer for an open-hearted being who is willing in listening and doing the solutions;

We can be open-hearted to listen and do what is truly needed;
I'm no genius I need everyone willing to share their solutions and answers, for now, we are alive but what can we do if we're already dead?
I've become who I am because of my relationship with our creator God or our common Father;
But before I encounter our Creator I knew him through someone in some stories or letters;

I don't know for everyone but in my life experience it was the man called Jesus Christ;
Who let me have a glimpse of the source of all creation which is unexplainably nice;
I do some methods or ways trying hard to follow that man's footsteps and maybe accidentally;
  I have tasted and touched the one called infinite;
If I'll put into words what I've experienced it will be indefinite;

Everything pleasingly beautiful that I have made I can't make any of it just by using my wit;
But for the wrong ways and decisions, I have chosen it was my own will I will not deny it or disown it;
I don't know and will not assume anything about anyone practicing being still;
But one thing I know is we are all created by the same unfathomable Being for me that is real;

In this lifetime of mine I have experienced indescribable things I need not say;
But I thank you our common Father the Creator of all for the chance to live even this very moment and all the nights and days;
By the way, I know people are confused and fight because of what they believe or their religion;
If a person has a sincere conviction on what they know or believe they will have a clear vision;

So if it's the end times we are living in now will it change the way we are because of fear;
And if it is not will we just do anything that pleases us even if we hurt and harm others who are dear;
I won't stop anyone to be fearless but please can we human beings be harmless;
I have no right to say this I know in my life I have hurt and harmed someone I'm that careless;

If only we could open our hearts and not give them a lock;
And fill which have empty and shower them with what they lack;
May it be physically, emotionally, spiritually, or psychologically on any aspect of a human being;
I know things seem so hard but if we have an open mind and heart dark skies and times will be brightly shining;

I know whomever we believe or know the one who Created us all will not abandon us;
For the gifts, we have like talents, knowledge, wisdom, and many more given by our Creator I still have faith in humanity and especially in our common Father God I trust;
I always remind myself in the vastness of creation I'm just a speck of dust;
Even that man of steel in a children's story has a weakness like steel eaten by rust;

So if it's a must to open and stretch our minds and hearts then put away those locks;
For the time is ticking for all of us we better spend it wisely and set our clocks;
Set aside or sacrifice anything that blocks us to reach a common goal;
Then if possible we all communicate, and cooperate for the common good of all;

I wish and dream we can all have an open mind and heart to lift one another;
This is a wish coming from an ordinary child-man who already lost his biological father and mother;
Will it be beautiful before we end our life's stories this world will be so much better;
And the next generation will no longer need to read this lengthy letter;
ryn Sep 2014
I have come humble to seek your knowledge
With exhausted feet and weighing burden, I bear my heart
I have travelled far to arrive at the world's edge
Ready to receive what wisdom you will impart

I'll set myself cross-legged on the opposite of you
I see you peering, examining my physical entirety
With one good eye, you gaze right through
Makes me uncomfortable, if I may... But I'll hold steady

I notice you muttering but no words could be heard
Your hands hovering over a glassy globe with an ominous glow
You turn to the left, as if conversing with an invisible third
Whispering secrets that I will never learn to know

Shifting your gaze now into the crystal orb
What do you see, Wise One, in that ball of yours
You shudder upon it's touch as though it's power you absorb
Tell me, Soothsayer... What lies for me in this course?

You swiftly pull your hands behind your back
I flinch with a start at your sudden display
You bring back your hands revealing cards out of a stack
You tremble in spasms, dropping the rest leaving one for play

The card you place face down, right in front of me
You motion for me to pick it up and flip it round
I see the card bore inscriptions and ancient runes, quizzically
You ****** the card and begin chanting in odd sounds

Reciting your incantations, in a tongue I do not understand
They sound like curses rather than the answers I seek
It all ends almost as soon as it started... I can't comprehend
You then place your warm palms gently touching my cheeks

Your features softened as you stared into my sullen eyes
A connection like eternity trapped within seconds never going astray
Then you turn away to fetch a bundle roped in knots and ties
You hand it to me hastily before ushering me on my way

I am now perplexed much... What does it show?
What did you see, what does my future hold?
Please enlighten me what you've come to know
From all of that, what could you have foretold?

Bundle in hand I turn to leave your rundown shanty
As I leave, you speak in your voice, different from before
Soft yet raspy you say, "Do not open till the end of journey"
"Open only when in house, behind closed door"


Moon is up illuminating, as I make my way up north
Armed in hand a strange, scented, ******* bundle
Leaving with the same questions with no answers, I amble forth
Wondering if in the bundle I may find the missing pieces of the puzzle...
If you like this, check out 'Dear Seeker'
Tina Fish Sep 2012
I.  ****** Transient

Overnight takes on new meaning
when the sun never sets and will never rise.

This time i didn’t bring words, i brought lines.

And Esmeralda danced circles around my eyes.
You gypsy ***** You.
Leading me confused,
                  with knees low and back hunched,
                                    into a labyrinth of solitude.

Embarrassed of what exactly?
i’ve barred scars more deep than scars
like profound pools of black sticky tar
that almost suffocates with its gluttony
and still You wouldn’t look away.
And now i pay a price as images intertwine
                           creating zebra patterned designs
                                             on the alcoves of my mind.
         Black, White
They contrast in spite of the connection.
         and I wear this contrast like an emblem,
                  hanging from my throat,
                           heavy on my heart.
                                    yet with the delicate touch of some
                                             slippery silvery chain…
                                                      It almost rids me of the pain.


Back turned or give me the front,
i still want either way.
A petrifying carnival of desire,
making my eyes tire of this display
and my lips itching to play,
a lilac purple tongue,
and bronze arms on the way.

You feign revolution by shutting the door in my face.

A shuddering sigh and flutter of a heart,
                           as caged ribs start to part,
                                   liberated room for more,

i’ve become an emotional *****,
lips wet with anticipation,
pulsating with a passion,
that You defined as infatuation.

And that i just couldn’t define.

-or rather-

defined as a transition in time.

****** Transients* would abstractive-ly be the best,
         but the abstract, once put to the test,
floats past concrete lines,
and creates a world of its own where, even as a stranger,
                  i feel right at home.
                                    Lioness of the abstract dome.


Razor sharp You
        sliced a tingling into the souls of my feet,
        and week after week i did nothing but smile at my own loss
        of balance.

The feminine reemerging as the phallus,
and the phallus in comfort with its feminine home.

         i patiently wait for my Special Kinder Surprise,
                                    and meanwhile,
                                             satisfy myself with imagination,
                                                    ­           to which an interpretation,
         would require the use of a million scholarly texts,
                                    which still wouldn’t attest to this degree
Of Vulgarity,
         or this degree
Of Sexuality,
         or this degree
Of Spirituality.

Like the slaughter of fowl for mythological pride;
                           You hide behind an altar,
                                    and with all the holiness i posses,
I intend to pull through and impress with Determination.
                           --and the petrifying realization—
that You are Artemis and i soon to be set upon by the hound
                                                           - choking ego to the ground.


But ****, it was worth it.

worth the,
vulnerability
worth the,
audacity
worth the,
ecstasy,
-It naturally dissolved within me.

Only to be pushed down by an incessant flipping of the door,
an incessant call to reality.

is the overnight truly Over?
      —or pray mercy and tell me its begun.

The rising Sun seems determined to puncture the fun,
And the valiant battle with Apollo seems already to have been won.



II.  ****** Ensnared
  
I’m getting tired of this ****.

A tantrum fit as if we were kids of three.
Stomping on adult realized priorities.
We wear our hair like a mask,
                  we analyze our clothes,
                           personify the persona we wish to adapt,
         and commend that same personal persona
         complimenting its research studied aura.
                                                    
--I’d rather stay in this dream forever.
  (you judged me by my hair
   yet remained unaware
   to what it masked.)

Please don’t preach to me about consideration.

The obliteration of that term in action shocks me.
Truth be told?—I’m quite Angry, and I feel used,
Yes, believe it or not, Abused.
Infiltrated and Dominated.

And I am a Leo at heart.

So to part with my throne will only be met with roars of defense;
                                                        ­       to be direct, Aggressiveness.


My interlude is met with seclusion—
         isolation to the utmost degree—
and I see that the world agrees, as I’m met
with a phone with no tone
and a power-cut of electricity,
while the world contracts visibly
and the static in the air
ensnares my fiery wrath,
and storms overhead
are weighed down with
anxiety and dread
that express themselves
in raindrops, that I lovingly
call tears.


I fear this is me at my limit---
        And I exhibit nothing but ferocious gloom.

This room which contains me is not enough,
And I will huff
And I will puff
Until the walls come down.
                  And the only sound to be heard,
                           is the numbing effect of silence.

My Rifle stands ready to be shot and plunge through that stubborn heart
of yours until it is rejected or until the reflected opinion dominates. Is it
too much to ask for a change of heart?
Empathy? Understanding?
Basic societ-ical handling?
Apparently yes.
So I detest
having to put in.

The waterworks that I display
convey nothing but submission
to your inconsideration.
                  And the devil in me crosses her fingers
                  for experience by example,
                  as elephants trample over logic
                  and the symbolic is simply symbolic.
                                             That’s too much reason for my taste.
                                             And I see that it was a waste
                                             Trying to impress with determination.

****** Ensnared has denied a nation of people their feelings,
                  listening, with unappealing resolution
                  satisfying herself with this conclusion:
                  “Let them eat Cake.”


--It’s true.
You can’t have your cake and eat it too.



III. ****** Verbalize

On a park bench it took me quite by surprise,
my eyes met with scripture
recognizable though not to my hand,
the band on my finger tightened and
yet the anger seized.
         -- How could I not have surmised ****** Verbalize to enlighten me?--


“Your Majesty;
         I owe you My Apology-
                  And I couldn’t be sorrier for my selfish self
                  has decided to rest after this long period.

For She was too busy
trying to make you feel safe and home
--She was too busy trying to suppress her ****** up
whipped cream so that you can have you cake and eat it too—
But She failed.

        You believe ****** is selfish,
then I’m afraid you never knew ******.
                  --****** loved you with wide arms open and she
                  Was pleased to meet you.

She hopes it was a useful transition for You.

.THE END.
The ******”
So many chiefers and not enough Indians
There Yosef go with that ******* again fools can't comprehend
Cuz them weeds they choppin' put all thoughts to end
So come again like ya repeating the same thang
Ghetto Twain rhymes like boomerang leavin' welts on the back of the membrane
My topics ain't meant for population
So if you don't like change the **** station
So fools keep on puffin' and I'm.keep on stuffin'
My minds with nothing knowledge I learned nothing college
But to party and ******* shut and take a hit
Let the dogia explore your deepest mind terrains
Got ya hooked like a crane invoking much pain
Time is suffering people offering up sacrifices
And claiming they just being nice for the right price
They'll sell out they soul for few ounces of gold
So you see what's happening blasting like rocket
Coming for pockets of fake prophets once I'm set I'm a raging bull so ain't no stopppin' it
Then next thing ya know I stare at the floor and the window
My third eyes enlighten
Thinking to myself I gotta go
but I got buzz contact off that fake indo...
Shaking my head looking at these young studs
Laughing at em smokin'them fake budds
Jen Armendariz Feb 2019
Enlighten me darkness,
For you hold the key,
Unlock the chains that restrain me

Darkness my friend,
It’s now time to set me free
Tear down these walls and uncover me,
Let me crawl out of this hole
And uproar the cry of a free soul

Enlighten me darkness,
Let me go my friend
I will never return,
I won’t be blind again
decompoetry Mar 2011
Euphoria is a drug we know well
A short lasting high
But the greatest of them all
A quick fix here and there
Will never suffice
Nor will the whole supply
But it gets us through the day

Euphoria in our veins
Heated from the inside
Weak and stronger than ever
Grips tighten as souls enlighten
For the fifth or sixth time
Or some other number
We've lost count
We can't count
What are numbers?
Mathematics are of no concern
To a couple addicts

My euphoria
Stay with me
Bring me home
Sail me away
Euphoria

Fog in my head
Swimming like clouds
Nothing is wrong
When we're this high

So stay close
For a little while longer
Sweet euphoria

You'll ruin us all
Mary Ab Oct 2018
Close your eyes and open your heart,
Can you hear the silence!
Can you see the darkness!
Be grateful for the little things you have in life,
For all our lives are full of bounties and blessings..

Mingling with other people from different backgrounds and Ethnicities inspired me and made me wondering in the deepest meanings of life

Allah created us for one aim which is to worship Him alone..
He empowered us with all the tools that would help us to achieve life's goal
The holy Quran will heal your heart and the sunnah of our prophet Muhammed PBUH will enlighten your path..

A letter to one's self..

Thank you is the least word I can utter to express my gratitude for you my lord
You created me out of love before I was nothing,
You gave me everything..
From the beauty to the health and wealth
The eyes, ears, hands, legs and heart :")
A muslim family that helped me through,
The Arabic language that allows me to enjoy Quran,  
You made me walk through your path to discover your light
Thank you for the awakening moments you granted me
Thank you for the air I breath the beauty I see and the food I eat
Thank you for the birds and trees
For the water and leaves
For the seasons and planets
For the sun and the moon
The clouds and the sky
If I ever start I can never count all the blessings you granted me

It is really important to step back on your life and start thinking and Talking to your self
To give your soul the boost to continue this life
To empower your faith and renew your tawakul (reliance on Allah)

I felt the need to cry when I attended today's speech by one of the sisters
She spoke about how insan needs to always rely on his Lord
Yeah sometimes you really get confused in the realms of life and you forget all the bounties that you've been blessed with
Shaytan comes to you  and start whispering that you always need more..
It's okay to always need more because Allah loves when his servants
pray to him and asks from him,
But this doesn't mean to forget all what you've been blessed with

It's really important to specify an hour each morning to reflect upon your life and to thank Allah for every single moment you have

Allah has created you out of love,
You are a unique version of your self
Nobody is completely like you
You are you and you should love yourself because Allah wants you to be like that..

All praise is to Allah!
Humans should always thank Allah for all the blessings and bounties! you will certainly face difficult times in your life because this life is a test!
all you have to do is to rely on Allah and always seek his help and satisfaction <3
Some people have faith…
In a God that they can’t see.
They pray and beckon to this being.
That doesn’t make sense to me.

Some people seek out love…
They say it’s all they need.
A notion that can’t be defined.
That doesn’t make sense to me.

Some people seek the truth.
They claim it will set them free.
All too often it brings only pain.
That doesn’t make sense to me.

Some people claim to care.
And they do so unconditionally.
Expecting absolutely nothing in return.
That doesn’t make sense to me.

Some people refute predestination.
Yet believe in destiny.
Fate and free will intertwined.
That doesn’t make sense to me.

Some people outstretch their hands.
When the world leaves them to bleed.
Giving to a world that doesn’t care.
That doesn’t make sense to me.

Some people follow only logic.
Decisions made to a tolerable degree.
Yet logic turns our hearts so cold.
That doesn’t make sense to me.

Some people look for life’s purpose.
Proposing doctrines and various decrees.
That purpose varies from one to the next.
That doesn’t make sense to me.

The world is full of confounds and query.
And in that, I rarely find the answers I seek.
But still, I wonder every day.
That doesn’t make sense to me.

Perhaps we need not find an answer.
Perhaps, by nature, we are curious beings.
We need faith, wisdom, truth, and love.
At least, that much, I can see.

But I invite you to justify this world.
Elaborate on the answers I need.
Or maybe life just doesn’t make sense.
I invite you to enlighten me.
sheloveswords Dec 2013
You feel you're invincible
being that your sanity is uncontrollable
strolling around with your shoulders past the birds
past the planes
your ignorance succeeds in innumerable ways
your sight is weak
your mind is enable to capture
it's buried under life's adversities and Earth's pleasure
you don't know when to stop so you flood yourself
until you're lame at your ankles
and paralyzed in your emotions

you wend through life this way
well you try
stuck in misery
with no lane to merge
frustration is your best friend
a human is impossible and
incapable of the acceptance
your belittlement draws mankind away
no one wants to attend a pity party
unless their accompanied to your VIP
and to reserve
you are the one to RSVP

Enlighten heads will stray away
pessimism is a curse
rapidly spread by the weak
you have distress and frustration
suppressed
strangled screams
holds your eyelids open at night
deliberations controls your emotions
controls your feet
throughout the day
you are terrified of tangibility
so you indulge yourself excessively
burying your true identity
becoming irritable when bearing your sober mind

if only you knew how divine you are
you would grow to love yourself
in ways incompetent of how you could love so hard
look yourself in your eyes
find who you are
even if you have to savagely search
you'll see the soul people has grown to
love so much
you'll notice your beauty
that covers endless realms
or your strength that could hurl a boulder
No one can help you discover
your destiny
it's your journey you'll have to make alone
but during the expedition and constant footsteps
the process of elimination could be your guide

find your inner child
it can help your prevail that's
where you once had happiness
your joy was established there
because if you continue the silencing
of your heart's cries and
your soul's screams
you'll live a life analogous to hell
and that is

a nightmare's worst dream



                Copy Right 2014
                     ©Patty Ann
Nina Apr 2015
I act like i hurt terribly but deep inside,
trust me, i dont give a ****.
Point out my mistakes that i did unintentionally,
were really not fair.
Enlighten me if i did that,
and correct me if i'm wrong.
I should just shut the hell up after this,
and dont you dare to ask why.
*******.
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
Ah! how the memory of

those pretty green eyes

enlighten my senses

making them parallel to

round ***** of safety.



Ah! how those eyes

regurgitate and bounce

pupils widening whenever

my eyes meet their gaze

wavering and moving from

person to person in an intimate crowded group setting.



Ah! how those eyes

which resemble soft moss

or the slick flesh of kiwis

stare at mine catching like how

flypaper catches mosquitoes

accidentally but intentionally

awkwardly but inventively

and ultimately intentionally.



Ah! how the memory of

those pretty green eyes

throw me off balance

when they lock into mine

and for a good ten seconds

merging a little too long

unnoticed by the crowd.


Ah! how those eyes

are like ghosts in my

memories so valid and

plausible they seem to

drift yet knowing they

will be seen tonight

creates a fidgety hope

splintered and shaking

within this hubris heart.



Ah! how those eyes

are framed by the

curliest of lashes

so cute they bloom

ripe smiles within this

here empty chest cavity

which seems to be defeated

at the moment but somehow

waiting to witness

orbs of stegosaurus skin

shelled and shellacked and unbuckled am i

at just a smack.



Ah! how those eyes

are like a slap

to my psyche.

Every part a swirling mass

of unabridged uncertainty.

And no matter how it seems

those irises of gold and green

will always be downright dainty.
Josh Hall Dec 2013
ADP and ATP,
DNA calamity.
RNA provides ridicule and cruelty.
Death note delivery.

Blood laughs and screams as it pours from slit veins.
It doesn't care about the souls its owner has stained!
What have you feigned?
What selflessness remains?
None to be sure as parasitic reality you frame.

What are we then?
Surely not worth baiting.
An existential lion's den.
But does it matter if we're waiting?
The most important question is "When?"

We exist to cause our problems,
to eliminate the heretic race.
It's a race that know one wins when,
They always have their problems to chase.

So enlighten us with,
Your sacred soul's bliss,
Or grow up from this tantrum of toil and ****.

Science of religion,
An oxymoron to say the least.
It is one thing to take the message.
Another to let your mind waste.

Savor what you have to the nucleus of your soul.
Know what makes you righteous.
Know it well and full.
Know what you live life for.
We're abiotic to assume that we "know" things we won't search for.
petalsofhope Nov 2013
I love you on sunny days
when the radiant sun enlighten the earth
I love you on rainy days
when drops of drizzle pour from above
I love you in the morning
when the rays beam through the window
I love you at night time
when the moon sings lullaby for the stars

I love you in the summer
when waves crash feets on the beach
I love you in the spring
when birds greet the blooming tots
I love you in the autumn
when brown leaves gracefully touch the ground
I love you in the winter
when a cup of hot chocolate is bliss

no matter what season
nor what weather
without fear
without expectations
this feeling
my love,
is inevitable
Enlighten, encourage and empower
Let those words be uplifting
As you embark on your next adventure
Look for a deeper meaning
You have it all within
Just reach for the sky
Be the inspiration
Take flight and aim high
jeffrey conyers Oct 2018
If slacking in any area of us?
Enlighten me?
If communication is the key to happiness.
Then advise me.

Don't silently pout like I'm a mind reader.
Never been, and will never be.

If more romance required?
Enlighten me?
What I want?
What you seek?
Don't have to lead to various forms of disagreement.

Just enlighten me.
Himani Dhaka Jan 2021
I cry, I frown, I aggravate, I shout
She laughs, she smiles, she simplifies and rejoices aloud
She is totally different from me
Se lives in me but is always free

When I frighten, she enlighten
with every step she brighten
she is a child in me
full of glee

when I become quiet in sadness
she does all work in quite Madness
what I deceive, is her believe
This bond is what makes us unique

We take different trains from the same station
My every work is a subject to her allegation
our roads don't match, but our destinations do
I don't know why her clumsiness is better than my neatness to

We both are one unit
I am a misfit, she is a nit wit
But, I lack the charisma she has
yet I am learning the way she act as

So what, we take different paths
we reach the same parks
Hurry up, I need to end this poem
to stop her playing from a toy lion...
I hope you can connect...
Alyssa Nov 2013
i found myself alone in my living room at ungodly hours of the night watching tv shows about politics and listening to poetry at the same time and trying not to say the wrong thing to tip off my friends that i want to **** myself because hey if i tell them then i can't do it and that's my problem. but then i started wonder why they're called ungodly hours. is it because god doesn't save anyone during these times? or did he just never save in the first place?

i found myself when i did not need to find myself in a higher power to find peace. how can you love someone else if you can't love yourself first? i spent an entire year researching and experimenting ways to "enlighten" myself (and i use that word lightly) and i think i finally found the way but when i introduced the idea of Buddhist meditation and chanting mantras of self healing and finding peace to my parents, my father told me i was tearing this family apart and "why can't you be normal?" and "this is not what our family believes in." and "what's wrong with the catholic church?" What's wrong with the catholic church is that i feel like a lesbian drug addict who needs massive amounts of alcohol to keep from killing herself whenever the priest looks at me, as if he can smell the gay on me like a dog who can sniff out a cancerous disease. What's wrong with the catholic church is that i feel like i'm stepping inside a political headquarters rather than praying to a god to help me not feel guilty about doing bad things and perhaps hoping he'll send something good my way even though i don't deserve it and i'm probably not going to heaven anyway because the bible told me that if i make love to another woman then i'm going to find a gathering of NHL hockey goalies in front of the pearly gates to keep me out. but my question is why people are so concerned with the sexuality of people that they aren't sleeping with, this was not the technical form of *** so i wasn't breaking two rules in one stone but i just "chose" the wrong sin. but hey, the devil said he's down to hang out with me as long as i don't mind the heat.

i found myself in the bed of a girl who always smelled like coconuts and had no respect except for herself and for me. she made me feel like i was at home even though i was miles away and didn't speak the language that well. i wanted to carve poems into the bones of her spine, she would never be able to see them but she would have the knowledge that they existed because her skin did. her existence ultimately created a contradiction for me, do i fall in love with a girl who could never love me back or am i able to stick to what my parents believe in but they'll never be happy with me anyway? i had to pick the lesser evils of the two, and she could never be evil to me. she could grab me by the throat, tell me to beg for mercy and i could reach out to shake death's hand and i would still want to kiss the fingertips the were wrapped around my neck. she could throw me down the flight of stairs and i'd still stare at her all the way down because if i were to die i want her to be the last thing i see. she could rip off my fingers at the knuckles and tie them around the christmas tree like the lights we use every year and i would still find ways to trace her body even more gently than before. she cannot cause harm to me as long as she is still within plane distance. as long as i don't have to give my life to see her again then i will always find myself in her. and even when we are dead and buried in the ground, i will swim to you like a mermaid of the soil just to be next to your bones.

i found myself when i started to get into fist fights with a god who forgot about me. i found myself when i started to call out death's bluffs, and death talked a lot of **** for a guy who couldn't follow through with anything. i found myself in the drugs and alcohol and my sudden stoppage of my use. i found myself in my yearning for death and drugs and alcohol but i found myself in my ability to say no because they only worsen my state of mind. And you only worsen me.
this is one of my favourite poems i've ever written and it's currently 2 am on the dot
You can enlighten your world
Just give yourself a chance
Keep at it
Move your feet and do a happy dance
Never give up
Find your happiness
Just have a strong will
And stay blessed
Serena Lee Apr 2015
I'm winning and its feeling great
I'm sorry I pretended to be your mate
but I stay by my word
Im sure you heard
Well if you can't or don't remember I'll simply enlighten you
I always get revenge that fact is true
But what we had then is most definitely through
I've hit your weak spot, it was so easy to find
And getting rid of what you want the most? Well we both knew I wasn't going to be kind
I mean after all you did hurt me
Now I have power because of she
The last piece to my victory
I would feel bad and oh so sad
But just one simple fact
A beating heart is what I lack
So say what you will
But words don't ****
sheloveswords Aug 2013
Oh love.
Opposite of what I percieved
Convicted of knowing you
but I was decieved
I am ready to learn.

Now

Teach.*




Copy Right 2013
                                   Patty Ann
The Terry Tree Aug 2014
You stole the fire from the sun
Your winged manifest expressed
Brings purity to darkenedness

You bring with you a light loved one
To shine on earth in loveliness
You stole the fire from the sun
Your winged manifest expressed

Your feathers fork-like have become
You soar with ease and happiness
To free us from our loneliness
You stole the fire from the sun
Your winged manifest expressed
Brings purity to darkenedness

A swallow nesting on our home
Will teach us to be swiftly heard
By using wisdom with our words

In gracefulness you deeply roam
With eyes of every Angel bird
A swallow nesting on our home
Will teach us to be swiftly heard

To rise above is to be shown
That life can often be absurd
And if emotions should be stirred
A swallow nesting on our home
Will teach us to be swiftly heard
By using wisdom with our words

To be objective is the key
Perspective must not be mundane
The spirit cannot be constrained

Distance will help you see clearly
The answers that will soon explain
To be objective is the key
Perspective must not be mundane

Create a loving energy
That's easy for you to maintain
And you will reach a higher plane
To be objective is the key
Perspective must not be mundane
The spirit cannot be constrained

With knowledge of divinity
Guide us dear Swallow as we grow
Enlighten us to what we know

As days pass by forgetfully
We misplace insights we behold
With knowledge of divinity
Guide us dear Swallow as we grow

The song you sing of trinity
With holy magic you bestow
All Saints and Gurus overflow
With knowledge of divinity
Guide us dear Swallow as we grow
Enlighten us to what we know

© tHE tERRY tREE
Poem | Written in iambic pentameter | Comprised of three stanzas: a tercet, quatrain, and sestet
Michael L Jun 2016
You agitate, I soothe

I laugh, you cry

You procrastinate, I plan

I toil, you sleep

You mingle, I retreat

I reach, you blench

You deceive, I release

I purify, you violate

You mystify, I enlighten

I grow, You shrink

You ignore, I explore

I create, you destroy

You devour, I nibble

I give, you take

You walk, I run

I defend, you assault

You subtract, I add

*I love, you hate
Michael Lucio ©

— The End —