Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"entrenched" poems
I, dip my fingers in your honey sweet sap. Steering your emotions with sensations of passion. Loathing the moments in between, with the patience of a feind; for the instant our flesh meet; then going far in between -- filling your blossom with seed, releasing you of your need. Embraced by your fragrance, entranced by the scent, of your bitter sweet, sweetness, both heaven sent -- dripping from my tip, the essence of your tenderness. entrenched by your loveliness.
0
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 8:40 PM UTC
Ambrosia.
The Buddha slept under the night sky on His back eyes open; fearless love looked up. humbling the majesty of the Void's gift. eyes fixed... both peerless. first among equals. but transcendent. The Buddha, wearing grass-stained robes chose a blank spot for a blank stare " Nowhere Girls are EveryWHERE " He thought, astonished. a moment after where once He stood there Was No spoon. [ PART ii ] NOT THE KOAN BUT THE KOAN THAT YOU GOT on the X-ray zen splints were clearly spidered webs in ghost bone... how should I feel that my sensei saw the X-ray first? life is where the answer to this question is a real thing draped in ominous clarity like a town fool, the beggar foreclosing on your house of cards, the winged swine and some guy named Patrick having a smoke in your face; the mailman, who always looks so serious about your trivia in a blue hat... who always trips over your precious dying very potted plants! yes, all that, or maybe not. saute some fresh green kale in olive oil with fresh garlic [ give it to me ] and i'll tell you that was very thoughtful, and right then; it would also be true. for a minute there... you and i were typing you reading this part. these are the diamonds. my exposure to the radiation is everlasting in the middle of it's brief long duration my ghost bones wear new flesh like iPod headphones, don't hate the player [ better yet ] make a macaroni necklace. go wild. be reckless. it'll cost you an ounce of real kimchi from the motherland with the ugly sister. i wouldn't put it pass you. cause that would be clairvoyance, and you already know! a loose tooth entrenched in candy apple can't taste your stupidity but has bad dreams! some people will always look at you the wrong way and appreciate how you sat perfectly still for hours; you only took a break to suggest a better room with southern exposure to eastern thought. when you threw in a Tripod, they knew you were somekinda somethin'. and they knew it all along but juuust wasn't sure. and kumquats are quantumly eaten.
0
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 2:22 PM UTC
NOWHERE GIRLS ARE EVERYWHERE
The Buddha slept under the night sky on His back eyes open; fearless love looked up. humbling the majesty of the Void's gift. eyes fixed... both peerless. first among equals. but transcendent. The Buddha, wearing grass-stained robes chose a blank spot for a blank stare " Nowhere Girls are EveryWHERE " He thought, astonished. a moment after where once He stood there Was No spoon. [ PART ii ] NOT THE KOAN BUT THE KOAN THAT YOU GOT on the X-ray zen splints were clearly spidered webs in ghost bone... how should I feel that my sensei saw the X-ray first? life is where the answer to this question is a real thing draped in ominous clarity like a town fool, the beggar foreclosing on your house of cards, the winged swine and some guy named Patrick having a smoke in your face; the mailman, who always looks so serious about your trivia in a blue hat... who always trips over your precious dying very potted plants! yes, all that, or maybe not. saute some fresh green kale in olive oil with fresh garlic [ give it to me ] and i'll tell you that was very thoughtful, and right then; it would also be true. for a minute there... you and i were typing you reading this part. these are the diamonds. my exposure to the radiation is everlasting in the middle of it's brief long duration my ghost bones wear new flesh like iPod headphones, don't hate the player [ better yet ] make a macaroni necklace. go wild. be reckless. it'll cost you an ounce of real kimchi from the motherland with the ugly sister. i wouldn't put it pass you. cause that would be clairvoyance, and you already know! a loose tooth entrenched in candy apple can't taste your stupidity but has bad dreams! some people will always look at you the wrong way and appreciate how you sat perfectly still for hours; you only took a break to suggest a better room with southern exposure to eastern thought. when you threw in a Tripod, they knew you were somekinda somethin'. and they knew it all along but juuust wasn't sure. and kumquats are quantumly eaten.
Continue reading...
45
Caste in India is a dense forest Ambedkar wanted to make it a plain And tried his best to abolish it in right earnest But he knew full well that he was in vain If one wants to cut a poisonous plant The other shouts like a maddening giant The environmentalist feels deforestation is dangerous So the re-forestation makes him curious The wise believe deforestation is a myth The roots are so entrenched in earth The trees will continue to branching out and out And grow and grow to a greater height
0
Jan 29, 2011
Jan 29, 2011 at 7:16 AM UTC
DE-FORESTATION OR RE-FORESTATION?
The teacher stands before her detained class And from behind her authoritative podium She equates abortion to the holocaust A dangerous comparison in an educational garrison But the other children nodded their heads in agreement A benefit of having the ear of youth Is being able to infect it with your own toxic ideology What bacteria did this ear infection consist of? Conservatism? Religiosity? Chastity? The answer was depressingly simple I was the only one there unaware of Fox News I was a casualty of the confusion The confusion engendered By venom thoughts placing politic-colored glasses on the entrenched masses Entertainment Used to convey anger and hate Emotions worth conveying But not living in The intents and desires of their vulnerable receivers become an incongruous disaster What could I have done? Minds as still as the pharaohs heart We live in a society where we're all infantilized by one myth Good and evil Looking back on what I did do I didn't do much But I did do something I didn't nod my head like a ******** sycophant
0
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 12:34 PM UTC
Fox News
1737 Rearrange a “Wife’s” affection! When they dislocate my Brain! Amputate my freckled ***** Make me bearded like a man! Blush, my spirit, in thy Fastness— Blush, my unacknowledged clay— Seven years of troth have taught thee More than Wifehood every may! Love that never leaped its socket— Trust entrenched in narrow pain— Constancy thro’ fire—awarded— Anguish—bare of anodyne! Burden—borne so far triumphant— None suspect me of the crown, For I wear the “Thorns” till Sunset— Then—my Diadem put on. Big my Secret but it’s bandaged— It will never get away Till the Day its Weary Keeper Leads it through the Grave to thee.
0
8.2k
Rearrange a “Wife’s” affection!
. The waves spilled the rising tide back into the scattered footprints  in the sand deeply entrenched in life’s mystery, receding into every breaking wave A stiff sea breeze put back every grain of sand, elements of a larger object gathers, gravity firmed, into the silent shoreline chasms— a beheld essence washed out to sea by the fugitive tides and retreating sea-foam Soon all trodden traces visibly vanish; unmarked mileposts on a metaphysical pathway slip away back to a windswept shoreline and elapsing summer tide Seabirds glide in slow-motion, held sway into the shapeless gusts — as if feathered puppets hovering, hanging from the rafters of the burgeoning orange sky There's an uncommon peace in the renaissance; effervescent crisp ocean air filling the indefinable emptiness marooned within each heartbeat’s echo Each new breath inhaled,  disappearing within the unhealed hollow of every thing once believed; fully aware this life is unholdable as time, yet feeling many things deeply retained     in each passing moment— slipping away like a handful of sand sifting through all these hands once held Presence becoming wreathed in a miasma of stillness, space that levitates like an unpredictable fog that seeps into the gnawing voids of an unsated hunger harlon rivers  ...  August 1st,  2018
0
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 8:34 PM UTC
a fistful of sand
*Nature has engulfed the Earth with Love The roots firmly entrenched on terra firma Sometimes nature’s fury uproots it all Bringing with it, devastation galore Yet, nature heals over time, lush green with life Kissed with Life, by the eternal rays of the Sun Water nurtures with the juice of Love Breathing Life onto this planet For Nature is Life, and we keep on strangling it As Nature’s comeuppance may uproot us all Our fate firmly bound to Nature; do we have a choice at all?* © Amitav (Radiance)
0
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 1:00 PM UTC
Nature’s Way
Twilight silhouettes. An evening cigarette, up on deck. The sun sets - on the far side of the cliff - While the boat Dips and lift, dips and lifts. Golden brown all around legs returning A golden sun is burning out Turning down the volume on the sky Now the whiteness of the day seeps through Our sand-entrenched shoes and is swallowed By the vastness of the wine-dark sea. Our salt-encrusted shoulders have rolled no boulders To touch the sun at noon Long afternoons through hazy pastel views Till the day’s foaming sea breaks Upon the hilly hooves of Spanish rocks. Meanwhile, the spine of a sleeping giant Lies in a hazy snooze, Its camel back runs grey to black Across the flat horizon. Pupils widen As the semi circle of gold is swallowed whole The velvet sea rolls gently for Poseidon.
0
Feb 20, 2011
Feb 20, 2011 at 5:33 PM UTC
Poseidon
*Rains lashing down The thunderous clouds Applauding every drop The clouds have opened up Their hearts to bring hope To the parched souls on Earth The seeds have been lying dormant It’s time for them to germinate Covering our garden with greenery For it will find roots in the soul Deeply entrenched with belief That every shower does not wreak havoc It also ushers new life and hope* © Amitav (Radiance)
0
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 2:03 PM UTC
Rainfall
I tore the fabric of space Interrupting my affectionate stalking Spurts of longing, interspersed with spasms of premature ***** In vain, hankering to attain that next level rush *Oh you're a ***** girl aren't you* That's when I was discovered... Her shrieks royally flushing my cheeks with shock -Superseded by pallid chagrin I fumble to bail, Pants entrenched around my ankles Premeditative, Of absent-mind, in haste Prime directive a method of escape Evasion failing Detection: Imminent Reflecting a grim lack of circumspection, accursed ********** Trying to conceal my turgid ******** Her father particularly beyond reason And not fond of my indecency for his daughter Proceeds pummeling me to death with my beloved binoculars Devoid of clairvoyance; I am coincidentally sent outward toward oblivion Bon voyage through the portal Falling facefirst into an abysmal wormhole Its then I voyaged backward through time To the moment of Creation And witnessed the universe **** itself from naught to existence Spewing forth such cataclysmic splendor
0
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 10:48 PM UTC
A ******
You are the book written by the mystic eternal, in sub atomic particles of each and everything after transcending the limits of time, on the wings of the thought in the primordial core, that witnessed the seeds being sowed in the beginning. I am entrenched in the inner urge of the spread of everything, the surge of cosmic mind, all the five elements the Brahman, most sublime, omnipresent, at once, inert and omnipotent, a feat one of a kind the waves of music, the subtle "ÄUM" containing all, even when the symphony begins, and climbs to the crescendo when self and the Master, my cosmic significant other, merge in YOGA, the ocean, the confluence of consciousness.
0
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 3:07 PM UTC
Imagining Yoga: I and my cosmic, significant other
I hate this place I hate it so much It makes me want to leave I hate this place I hate it so much I want to sit and cry I can't leave this place This is my hell This is my prison without bars Sometimes I can grin and bear And take the daily routine But mainly I just want to die And take this place down with me You know the place of which I speak It's in your heart too We all go there sometimes Maybe a lot, or just a few I hate it when I'm here This prison with no walls This cell that has no boundaries This cage for my mind My soul is entrenched By the constraints of my brain So I take leave in a rush And hope that you will too This place is not long for us But maybe it'll be good for you.
0
Apr 26, 2010
Apr 26, 2010 at 9:00 PM UTC
Hell
ponces! nancies! veritable egrets of men! people pleasing anti-charismatic animals philistines, every one of them, everyone else a curse upon their forebears and a curse upon their goings-on terrible business, that the world should be filled with boundary pushing eccentrics, that is progress! a plague upon normalcy, a plague upon stagnancy uninteresting, dying off, done ugh! greatness can not be expected of all but at least an attempt should be made how else will we overcome, will we build our utopia? what use is MY struggle when others are defeated in making a move past the remote television is for swine rots your brain and morals I've swell morals, just look at them my morals reach to the moon my morals are so swell I should run the country my morals aren't two millenia old scriptures written by the seers of goat-tenders my morals are modern, they are sleek and well dictated, they represent the future my morals defy the past, my morals create new paradigms why, you could say my morals defy all of traditionalism and a curse upon tradition! who ever learned from the past history is rife with naught but sufferance forwards is the only direction forwards is revealed only to me my ideals aglow with the lumine of the future they are entrenched in idealism me and mine, we are ideal
0
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 1:30 AM UTC
XIII
A handy Mole who plied no shovel To excavate his vaulted hovel, While hard at work met in mid-furrow An Earthworm boring out his burrow. Our Mole had dined and must grow thinner Before he gulped a second dinner, And on no other terms cared he To meet a worm of low degree. The Mole turned on his blindest eye Passing that base mechanic by; The Worm entrenched in actual blindness Ignored or kindness or unkindness; Each wrought his own exclusive tunnel To reach his own exclusive funnel. A plough its flawless track pursuing Involved them in one common ruin. Where now the mine and countermine, The dined-on and the one to dine? The impartial ploughshare of extinction Annulled them all without distinction.
0
5k
A Handy Mole
Entrenched in a red lotus, I find a blue one, mysterious blooming  in my heart, a white lotus eternal, rules my skies; **golden lotus dissolves thoughts,                                  gifts wings to transcend.**
0
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 11:51 PM UTC
Lotus sutra
Through grain fields with bayonets fixed, from Belleau Woods the Germans came. The sixth Marines in shallow pits unleashed a deadly metal rain. The French collapsed upon the left Their flank exposed by craven fear The Marines held fast when urged to flee: "Retreat?, Monsieur? We just got here." By June the sixth, it fell to them to take a Hill to save the French. A German company with machine guns waited for them, well entrenched. Their tactics from another war, Audacious yes, but not too clever "Come on, you ******** Dan Daly roared, "Do you really want to live forever?" With casualties high, so many dead The Marine Corps held the hill by night. Counter attacks were fended off some times with fists and K bar knife. Now the cannon of both sides rained steel where the combatants stood: A once beautiful preserve of princes was turned into a shattered wood. Through mustard gas and cannon fire The Marines advanced into the Wood. Silenced machine guns and cut bared wire till the enemy fled, this time for good. Before the flag at Iwo flew, Before the Canal's jungle squalor Marines were nicknamed "Devil Dogs" by the Germans who admired valor.
0
Jan 14, 2012
Jan 14, 2012 at 3:37 PM UTC
belleau woods
• grape gatorade • baby powder engraved earrings • glow sticks • the smell of old holy pages • peach cobbler • complement circles • heterochromia • crazy hair • wet clothes • dr pepper • cold rain against the humid air • glances people steal (j.a.r.)
0
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 10:43 PM UTC
Entrenched Aesthetics;
A futile battle enmeshed Overpowering emotions struggle to stay afloat Heaving a deep breath I sink in Isolated in my despair Sliced through bone and marrow Pain wrenches my soul, vice in its hold A fragrance wafts in Electrifying my soul Reverberating memories explode Bursting to surface Tender moments, the story of a heaped up soul In every cell of my being I feel you Emanating exuding your deep truth Your touch like butterflies Transcendental your love Rewinding reel by reel The story of an unsaid love I see you close, though I bear you not My heart lost inside your soul Irreplaceable the magic Weaved by those deep emerald embers Wants each moment to unfold I ease back and surrender once again To the assurance of this bliss Entrenched deeply in this moment Serenity shrouds a warm blanket Intense emotions lay calm, spent My soul in glorious serenity elevates You are undeniably a part of me My paragon, my serenity Issue forth bright light, vibrant colors Adorn the deep dark night sky Your love a painting a million hues Panoramic and divine. I LOVE YOU....
0
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 1:06 AM UTC
Your love...my serenity!
A determined existence is Just mental slavery, And you have been forced Into accepting by the Inhumane ********** of A world run by profit. Your god is the same As the monsters with Dollar signs in their eyes. Pay your taxes, Pray to your god, And follow the Golden Rule. Your parents always said that Those were the ingredients For a happy life, right? But they never told you That God and Country We're looking out for Corporate greed and they Won't spare a penny To help you survive. So you have been Blinded to the truth, Corruption so deep, You can't trust anyone. Question everything. Blind faith brought The Two Towers to the ground, And bombed Pearl Harbor. The cross killed millions After Jesus bled for Your right to be a blind bigot, Preaching love and Practicing ruin, Hate because of love and Protection for criminals. When the Catholic Churches Sold out the Star of David, ****** capitalized on the hate To leap to power and Force millions of men to ****** and die over beliefs, And choice in imaginary friends. All you know is fear Of the different and unknown, Taught to you by Your family, church, and country. A mental slavery based On submission, ignorance, Hate and fear. All of this was Carefully constructed To keep you buying, And to keep the same Outdated beliefs, divisions, And people well established. It's all so entrenched in Our society that you Already have misconstrued My message to be an attack On your existence   But you are my comrade, Without arms to fight against The corrupted establishment. So here I am, An arms dealer, Delivering to you Truth and sparks For you to pick up the fight When my rebellion is silenced.
0
Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 3:59 PM UTC
Mental Slavery
A determined existence is Just mental slavery, And you have been forced Into accepting by the Inhumane ********** of A world run by profit. Your god is the same As the monsters with Dollar signs in their eyes. Pay your taxes, Pray to your god, And follow the Golden Rule. Your parents always said that Those were the ingredients For a happy life, right? But they never told you That God and Country We're looking out for Corporate greed and they Won't spare a penny To help you survive. So you have been Blinded to the truth, Corruption so deep, You can't trust anyone. Question everything. Blind faith brought The Two Towers to the ground, And bombed Pearl Harbor. The cross killed millions After Jesus bled for Your right to be a blind bigot, Preaching love and Practicing ruin, Hate because of love and Protection for criminals. When the Catholic Churches Sold out the Star of David, ****** capitalized on the hate To leap to power and Force millions of men to ****** and die over beliefs, And choice in imaginary friends. All you know is fear Of the different and unknown, Taught to you by Your family, church, and country. A mental slavery based On submission, ignorance, Hate and fear. All of this was Carefully constructed To keep you buying, And to keep the same Outdated beliefs, divisions, And people well established. It's all so entrenched in Our society that you Already have misconstrued My message to be an attack On your existence   But you are my comrade, Without arms to fight against The corrupted establishment. So here I am, An arms dealer, Delivering to you Truth and sparks For you to pick up the fight When my rebellion is silenced.
Continue reading...
70
by rgpage In this quiet time of night, I lie alone and prey to the bitter pain of joy's absence. Lost in my mind's shallow thoughts the sharp fragments of happy memories since shattered ***** at the sensitive fringes of my sleep. Sleep: Nature's sanctuary A quiet haven, an island set apart from the daily consciousness of life where my thoughts may at last run free. An island with white sandy shores as far as the eye can see. Blemished only by my solitary figure walking the blue water's edge. And the forests of my paradise, their deep green density gives substance to my world. Often I stop to ponder their far reaching greenness. The warm subtle breeze carrying the fragrance of this foliage across my face, fills my nostrils with the pleasures of nature. And occasionally a gull overhead, drifting unchallenged on the soft warm currents of the azure, as free in his world as I in mine; lends companionship. All of the sudden in the beat of a heart, from no where a large black cloud appears to smother the sun's warm light, turning the blue sky and green foliage black and the white sand that I once walked upon a cold gray. And just ahead of me lying there in death's humiliation, my winged companion; soaked and scorned at the dark water's edge. I awaken: This cold room and bed the greatest part of my conscious moment, and the sound of a distant train bell mocking the destruction of my comfort; its havoc upon my sleep done it now moves on. Saddened I once again wade through the shallow bogs of my loneliness, and the pains of memories of the love and life i'd wasted return. This painful sleepless night a most cruel retribution for my past. So firmly entrenched it seems I may never return to my paradise; yet remain in this cold room to suffer the long night's tortures. Returning: The warm sunlight, and gentle caress of the water's pulse upon the white sand. And overhead my pure white friend again drifts on the warm currents of air, heralding not my return but praising my presence.... ...for my presence alone, gives life to this warm yet oh so precariously balanced paradise. The white beach with its warm sand leads me on my journey to the morning, as I walk the blue water’s edge.
0
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 12:22 PM UTC
The Blue Water's Edge
by rgpage In this quiet time of night, I lie alone and prey to the bitter pain of joy's absence. Lost in my mind's shallow thoughts the sharp fragments of happy memories since shattered ***** at the sensitive fringes of my sleep. Sleep: Nature's sanctuary A quiet haven, an island set apart from the daily consciousness of life where my thoughts may at last run free. An island with white sandy shores as far as the eye can see. Blemished only by my solitary figure walking the blue water's edge. And the forests of my paradise, their deep green density gives substance to my world. Often I stop to ponder their far reaching greenness. The warm subtle breeze carrying the fragrance of this foliage across my face, fills my nostrils with the pleasures of nature. And occasionally a gull overhead, drifting unchallenged on the soft warm currents of the azure, as free in his world as I in mine; lends companionship. All of the sudden in the beat of a heart, from no where a large black cloud appears to smother the sun's warm light, turning the blue sky and green foliage black and the white sand that I once walked upon a cold gray. And just ahead of me lying there in death's humiliation, my winged companion; soaked and scorned at the dark water's edge. I awaken: This cold room and bed the greatest part of my conscious moment, and the sound of a distant train bell mocking the destruction of my comfort; its havoc upon my sleep done it now moves on. Saddened I once again wade through the shallow bogs of my loneliness, and the pains of memories of the love and life i'd wasted return. This painful sleepless night a most cruel retribution for my past. So firmly entrenched it seems I may never return to my paradise; yet remain in this cold room to suffer the long night's tortures. Returning: The warm sunlight, and gentle caress of the water's pulse upon the white sand. And overhead my pure white friend again drifts on the warm currents of air, heralding not my return but praising my presence.... ...for my presence alone, gives life to this warm yet oh so precariously balanced paradise. The white beach with its warm sand leads me on my journey to the morning, as I walk the blue water’s edge.
Continue reading...
51
the Hail Mary transgression: falling in love with me when it crosses over the line *guilty of the same, so even when I condemn the errant woman, with an ice block from a Northeastern pond of no soft forgiveness, which is still and yet, the only cutoff ending appropriate but you woman, deserve to learn that emboldened fantasy that crosses broken bold lines, is a jagged rot that doesn’t cure the dreamy unreality of the-cannot-be, it’s pouring hot water on scalding burns entrenched guess time to share that your fantasy is the number one commandment that this boy also violates routinely so he has a phd of experience, and the burn proofs when he thot he too could be, Cervantes, the knight errant, lover of the impossible woman I, guilty as charged by “The Duke,” am an idealist and bad poet, so many poet-women here I secret cherish at levels that are nonsensical, absurd, ludicrous and hold the fantastical fantasty of them dear, so close and so near, so mine wrote them each love poems, and they know it, now, here, in my confessional booth, my priestly punishment always the same, ten thousand Hail Mary’s, but I cheat the cohen priest, and just write another poem,* this one is about the line that never can  could  will be crossed, hail mary!
0
Feb 11, 2019
Feb 11, 2019 at 11:48 AM UTC
Hail Mary transgression: falling in love when it crosses over the line
Nine months after I was born, the Twentieth Century began to collapse. East Berlin,graffiti-mural concrete, a jutted enigma scratched on ordinance maps, the sort found landscaping westernized Primary School walls. Where within, labored in real time, the television told my parents (and everyone else given to social conservation in 1989) that a wall falling down would bring an end to the gap between the working and the working poor. Freedom waited for many on the other side. But of course, History draws up different plans. Never content to just go out with a bash, or to fleetingly drift by leaving in its absence an underwhelmed lull The bloodiest century yet left the new world entrenched in an odyssey of hatreds handed down from the past right about the time human suffering became a bit dull and the peaceful countries were too busy tripling their money instead. What does History really teach us and what are the real benefits of being free, or freer than you were before? Human ambition, which burns it way out of any oasis of calm, which calls children out of sleeping in the night Always seeks out the exhaustible An inveterate Black sheep leading astray the ever susceptible ****** lamb Delusion’s strange bedfellows are the worthiest adversaries to run away from, to reserve contrition for. Unlike the inevitability of uprooted animal migration during a monsoon swell Can a people with an invested addiction to the pursuit of happiness Ever truly be prepared for the inevitability of rapid change?
0
Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 6:00 PM UTC
Maps, Mythologies.
Nine months after I was born, the Twentieth Century began to collapse. East Berlin,graffiti-mural concrete, a jutted enigma scratched on ordinance maps, the sort found landscaping westernized Primary School walls. Where within, labored in real time, the television told my parents (and everyone else given to social conservation in 1989) that a wall falling down would bring an end to the gap between the working and the working poor. Freedom waited for many on the other side. But of course, History draws up different plans. Never content to just go out with a bash, or to fleetingly drift by leaving in its absence an underwhelmed lull The bloodiest century yet left the new world entrenched in an odyssey of hatreds handed down from the past right about the time human suffering became a bit dull and the peaceful countries were too busy tripling their money instead. What does History really teach us and what are the real benefits of being free, or freer than you were before? Human ambition, which burns it way out of any oasis of calm, which calls children out of sleeping in the night Always seeks out the exhaustible An inveterate Black sheep leading astray the ever susceptible ****** lamb Delusion’s strange bedfellows are the worthiest adversaries to run away from, to reserve contrition for. Unlike the inevitability of uprooted animal migration during a monsoon swell Can a people with an invested addiction to the pursuit of happiness Ever truly be prepared for the inevitability of rapid change?
Continue reading...
34
You've done it again! Time and again First hook and then reel Then hurt and release Lay the blame squarely on me You take me for a fool A gullible idiot! Who'll swallow your lies And buy your story each time I am not part of your life anymore but  I need to get on with mine So be sure to burn the bridges Cause I am not turning back anytime. You will always do what it takes To hold my heart ransom Cause that's such a causal approach It doesn't take much to strategize I struggled each day and night To swallow my pain and get on But depression sunk its deadly hooks My flesh was skinned and bare My groaning heard none Cause outwardly I appeared just fine. But you conveniently forgot what u had done And walked back without a care For a doormat you take me So can you step on my despair You think I am waiting around For you to do the same things again Forgive you, for your wrongs and get back from where we left? Change your thinking! Cause that's never gonna happen I have forgiven, but forgotten not I cannot forget or let go For your lessons are deeply entrenched And well learn't One that has a lasting impression My mind wont let it go. Subconsciously I know your capacity to hurt me time and again Cause you feed on my feelings To supplement the ones you lack Grow up, own up, about time u realized. You can't play me and think its fine!
0
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 5:02 AM UTC
Do you think you can play me?
As the mind wanders. It does so with the promise it will take you along Along rolling hills layed under crimson sun set Whispering soft promises entangled in the crisp breeze For certain you are the companion In this endless search Where the road bends sharp rock juts Violently from the ****** ground Now the cold light of the moon breaks Your silhouette against the mighty stone Your search continues But what part do you play in this search Walking along side each other The ever changing landscape Entrenched in mystery Joy, love, sorrow, and at times peril, Is there virtue in your search for truth? Or is there burden in the truth that the wandering mind Was well travelled and you were along for the ride
0
Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 12:49 PM UTC
The wandering mind
Entrenched for the longest time The weeks and months and years flew. Although the winters have gone I will always be rooting for you. Searched within that field For a single speck to turn to. Although we are already withering I will always be rooting for you. Ingrained for the longest time The soil, with petals, is blanketed anew. Although we are already drifting I will always be rooting for you. Swept clean from the storm Into where I know is true; Although I am at the edges I will always be rooting for you.
0
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 9:28 AM UTC
now grow