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petalsofhope Nov 2013
I remember you
from your beautiful smile
your cinnamon scented hair
your contagious laughter
your nail-biting addiction
your pointless insecurities
to our silly inside jokes
our dumb little fights
our peculiar bets
our goofy text messages

through tears and smiles
you were the only one who understood
my unspoken words
my concealed pain
my unexpressed happiness
my puzzled feelings

counting your days
we recalled our mischievous memories
when we danced in the rain
when we rang doorbells and ran away
when we pranked the gullible ones
when we stole Ikea pencils
when we fangirled over stunning guys
when we were together
everything turn into excitements
moments with you
I remember them all, Grace

it was a week before December twenty-fifth
when the monstrous cells stopped your heart
a glimpse of smile
appeared upon your face
as you're being taken
far away from us
skin turned pale
body stiffened
tears flooded my sight
there were wailing across the room

time flies like a bullet train without you
it's a rainy day today
you've always loved rainy days
sinking my knees in the dew-wet grass
raindrops whisper in my ears
as I brush off the gray snow from your stone
I still remember you, Grace
I still do
may the way that gives way to this accord of may be in awe of truth and not the fruits of disarray

I shall be meditating upon the roads travelled and many discoveries gather that I have unravelled

I shall curl my high excitements and misguided ambitions to unfurl what the calls of the wise unfurl and admonish

In the mist amidst the tricking twists of fits and false gists, may I hold up fists that will seize to desist and delete the disease of fallacy in curtailed wit

In the shadows dark, some pale
may I not fade into the tales of lies and manipulative games

In the guise of dames so modern and fabulously inclined to fame,
may I guage and carry my animosity into the mystery of my identity where only the genuine and real can relate

In the encounters with material and all that deters from the mystic and ethereal,
I hope to remember the real surreal to surmise the reels of fantasy thrills in graphic frills and euphonic trills

However the gigantic systems of the world in money, greed, vanity or lust, may doctor sickness into the souls of the lost and weak:
may my heart remain meek and my vision bright and led by the lens of the soul....

With or without I pray not as a religious pilgrim but a sage seeking neverending Light... ever the more grateful, harnessing the grapes of creation, worshiping a servant's code in humility.

hustling about this rash hassle of life overshadowed by pyramids and castles
remaining true to the cause even when temptation is endlessly bustling about
remember remember the hustle when you were down and out without
I pray
I meditate
I search
I question
I dreamed of thee again last night-so frustrating. I still miss thee. I have to admit that. I can no longer deny it. I still want thee back. I want thee back. My thee, o, my thee, Vladimir! In my mind I keep but playing those scenes over and over again; those scenes full of temptations-and breaths gasping more freshness under the sheets of our romantic air-which are no other than the beautiful, picturesque paintings of the days of our togetherness. Those rapturous paintings-sketched carefully by the jealous winds-outside of my bedchamber, wherein adjacent to the rolling fireside thou would caress my hair and smile at me with that serene blueness of thy eyes. And how as soon as those moments came, I would close my eyes, and lay my head against thy cleavage-and its steady, luminous heartbeat; and flew I through the wings of enthralled unconsciousness-as though I was floating in the sky; and then believe would I, that yon bubble of sophisticated happiness would never end. But thou! Thou ruined everything-and that idyllic, idyllic blue castle of mine as soon as thou walked away. Ah! And didst I cry back then, cry whenever I woke up and found that thou wert gone, and it was only thy scents that were left all over me. What a horrible memory! The remembrance of thy blissful eyes-o, a pair of majestic blue eyes!-and thy golden hair, flowing smoothly against mine on that tranquil night, is but a wealth of fondness too dear, yet unbearable-to me. Full of tears are my eyes, as I am writing t'is sorrowful passage, that might still mean nothing-nothing, to thee. But I doth need to be honest! It might just be too late to say this, but I need thee, Vladimir. I need thee! Thou art the only miracle that has ever happened to me, since I first heaved my steps onto this land: this foreign land with a stash of autumnal stars grinning at us from the sleepy eyes of the sky. The sky-o the sky, whose innocent blueness is just as handsome as thy eyes! Thou consoled my fear, and relieved my sarcastic anxiety-in those first, first days! How thou silently-yet joyfully, entered my heart! My prince, my soul. How I want us to be back together-embracing each other under the clouds' mesmerizing lullaby. I who can never love him-the one everyone dear to me so excitedly raves at. No-never, although from the same kin is he, as thou art, with that flash of wild black eyes running vivaciously at every appearance of my being. And those queries he always puts-yes, on my series of daily runabouts, and keen interests in which I immerse myself during my solitudes. A smile so charming then he shows-but still, unable is he to bring my heart to galloping excitements, nor shake my soul with adorable passion, like thou didst! And no! He is but no lover I wish for-as far as I'th ventured to recognise, as in my heart still hides thy name, dwelling so quietly with bursts of violent fascination. And the red blushes it sends to my cheeks-whenever I think of thee. Vladimir! The prince to my love-today and yesterday-for whom my affection shalt never fade; and the sole king to my being-all through the year, and the remaining hours of my night and day-for whom my soul was duly made. O Vladimir! I love thee, I love thee! Come back and cherish thy days here, wander back into my heart-and celebrate this innocent mirth of ours, just like we once had before-with our hands together, whilst thy heart in mine, amidst t'is silent afternoon-and ah, under tonight's marvelous moon.
hot chocolate fantasies
peppermint insanities
keep me warm when im cold
make me young when im old
sweet enticements
sugary excitements
make it real when i dream
stitch me up at the seam
joys and sorrows
yesterdays and tomorrows
this is all for you
ill prove its true
remember me
sweet memory
sheloveswords Oct 2013
You hear the vocals of my pores
Calling out for your ecstasy
Baby, will you answer me?
Annihilate my suspire
I'm craving for you to sojourn your lips unto my dermis
Floating in passion, your love takes me higher
With annimalism
Your death grip on my waistline severely quenches my skin*
I feel your thunder storming on my frame
Being pounded by my waves
Of this flash flood you made
I NEED YOU
To come and swim deeply into my ocean
Contain my legs from this uncontrollable wavely motion
Surf my waves at each convulsion
Your breath trickles down my spine
You haven't even reached your peak yet
And I have came here
And
Came
4
Times
This visit, I do not regret
I WANT YOU
To make love to me
Like there is a war outdoors
With nature and valley
A war between temptation and flesh
But wait
Not just yet
Because your cinnamon skin
***** my tongue passionately
Constantly
I melt, into a puddle
Full weight on the floor
That you lick up until  no more
I travel my lips up and down your masculine build
You feel my exhaustion
Invading your spine
Interrupting your concentration
At this hour, in this moment
You are mine
And I am yours
Finally tasting those lips I've always adored
My succulent tongues takes a moment and travel down your chest
Leaving my mist dwelling on your buff
Down to the strong man hood you possess...
You grab my neck
As you explore the soft walls
Of my saturating portal
Your head inclines back in full relieve
As I continually, savagely feast
You then explode in great fury
We collapse as if an earthquake violated our terrain
And then we lay....
But,
This is not the end
Welcome, to foreplay
With gratitude, your excitements hardens
And your eyes paint me, you feel extremely lucky
You begin to fill your lips with thanks
But  NO
Baby don't thank me
Just **** me...




                            Copy Right 2013
                                   ©Patty Ann
A pastel blue backdrop
behind three glass frames
not a cloud in the sky
not a plane flying by

Yet I cannot learn to love
the sky without the trails
smoky puffs of vapour
line a day with uncertainty

For a blue sky is bland
without the odd trace
of imperfection, even
birds in formation become
the aforementioned.

"I can't stand to sing
the same song the same way
two nights in succession"
Routine it seems is its
own imperfection.

Give me a grey sky in June
And thunder in peace
A stark croaking crow
Can be sheer bliss

All things aligned,
Excitements amiss
For the brain needs
A puzzle, a challenge...

Confrontation, **** your
Hollywood films and
Normalisation, your
predictable habits

And false gestation;

Astro-Turf fields
And palm tree islands,
Man-made beaches
And glacier skylines

Synthetic audio
and bastardisation
of the arts, your
contempt for nature

Shall be your Achilles
for the world we live in,
the forests and canopy's
are the very providers

Of human abilities,
rid us of them and face
extinction, this is the
nature of colonisation.

The earth which houses us
is not formulaic, It's a collision
of astronomic proportions
every detail as vital as another

Mankind can be primal, Oedipal
and graceless, but respecting your
home is not an optional gift, for
we cannot survive as a species adrift.
Mark Steigerwald Oct 2015
It drives me.

Colliding my heart and my soul.

A night of wondering.

A voice in the dark.

Memories come
memories go.

I lie awake all night.

Even counting sheep don't help me sleep.

Sweet insomnia
excitements symptom.

I close my eyes
and I come alive.

These are the days my friend,
before it all begins.

Revel in these days.

Sweet insomnia comes to me when I close my eyes
my mind drifts
my heart flutters.

My body never to rest.
Forever locked in her sweet sleepless embrace
I bend knee and let insomnia in
ever to wander the gloom.
Universal Thrum Nov 2013
Now Now Little Heart, don’t yearn
the tides of time will sweep you away
And you will go under

The manly spells are many here
What you must realize is this aching may never be filled
Hold that empty space in your hand
See it filled with delighted wonder
People, places, excitements and thrills
Like every other temporary form
We grasp
Clutching into the dark that lives inside of us
The wanting echoes in those labyrinthine halls
The light lives there too
It’s true, we are destined to want
The thrill of touching another, the safety of an embrace, the sweetness of a lover’s smile,
the comfort of companionship, the steady hand of shared fate,
as these things help us grow, serving our soul, as do all others.
But my Little Heart, beauty is here, the invitation remains open for us to see
these laws of attraction
Written by a greater mind,
Played out in the intricate web of human interaction
Where fate, destiny, serendipity are all foreign concepts until one steps back and realizes the magic surrounding our existence in every moment we breathe
The magic has found you, you are here in the now, if you are reading this,
you are alive, what a gift then, to laugh and sing and play!
Smile big, bigger than your sorrow, the delicious ambiguity of our own mystery will make you chuckle with notions of absurdity.
Stop looking, now all you do is find. What a joke! Cosmic humor sublime.
Inner will guides you, dropping breadcrumbs in the forest (Will it ever be a whole loaf?)
Listen for its clues amongst the chaotic chorus of the locust trill,
the beauty of your birdsong shines through, see its manifestations in the open doors,
feel the pull of your heart guiding you through with its initial surge of affirmation amongst the daily swirl of doubt,
read the natural signage, One, two, three.  
Oh my little heart, your family’s love is strong
Know that on the mortal plane you are never abandoned, you have a home here in my own humble host; you must never despair, although you will, for our human circumstance demands this anguish until it is vanquished by our own command
Embrace the whole of your emotional spectrum as you would a beloved brother,
the downs teach as well as the ups,
no longer associate negativity with your emotional make up,
sometimes your body demands rest and some mistake it for sadness,
be with it then and know this life as your time for discovery,
the bricks are laid with every new step forward and backwards upon the path into the unknown that is universally shared by all.
How wonderful that we found each other here, in this moment, does it not fill you with awe?
The predestined chance?
Transform the ennui surrounding the seeming tedium,
washing dishes,
sweeping floors,
these instead are understood as sacred movements,
realize the sheer weight of wonder in being, standing in an elevator with a stranger,
sonder
You will smile again in the sun,
you will feel its warmth on your face and be sure of God’s eternal love,
the clouds come and go, drifting as they please,
shade and snow sometimes invite the cold, but remember, always remember, your warmly worth
Now and always, Breathe deeply,
And if you ever feel like your ship may never come into port, 
sunsets are just as beautiful by land as by sea.
Nicole Nov 2017
These emotions swirl around my mind
Like the glowing leaves outside
Yellow anxieties, orange excitements, and red passions
All intermingling to create something divine
For those who don't understand
It appears disorganized and unnatural
But as sure as leaves return to trees in the spring
My feelings will continue to bloom for someone
More than one
And that's beautiful
Jafer Ali Khan Jul 2018
Living in a different time zone, still reeling from past decisions.

Fighting venemous events to no avail,
not letting go of lasting mass incisions.

Excision of life's excitements.
Removal of my livers, kidneys, colons,
but still, I shiver in the coldness
of the living.

Admitting to the voices in my head,
that the Lord's mercy still extends,
into heaven for the choices of the dead,
who did the devil's bidding.

A foolish folly for a younger self,
to fall afoot amongst a rotten hell,
hellish landscape brought into the realm,
of mortals and the bedroom shelves.

All my dreams upon a table,
and in the dusty drawers there lies the pain.
Honestly I'm never able,
to entrust another lover with my reigns.

To fly I must begin to build momentum,
but something's caught up on me and instead preventing.

And slowing my ascension,

Also did I mention,
that every other moment that I spend here in atonement
is a ticking to a redder deathly sentence.

Repentance, with a mix of learned and unearned lessons, accuses those who lied.
Impresses extra stress especially when the ghostly men attend and lean up on my bedside.

I use to shy away but now I stare them in the eyes.

Fear's been long gone since childhood,
when crazy layovers in hazy places
played a part of strongly breaking bonds with those I thought were good.

I've felt my death a million times and dreamed it millions more.
And yet I never let myself fall victim to the final tricks of it's afflictions.

Meaning it's a situation still remaining unexplored.

I know what I lived for, and I know exists a future still in store.

But god ******* ****** life is such a chore.

Lord,
Give me strength and give me more.
Arindam Barooah Dec 2020
uneasiness encore
tearing at the seams
all over me.

presence scruples
as your absence haunts
in the reality.

desire ignites
longing burns
bringing out passions deep within.

I feel
I strive to feel your
breath
whisper
touch
voice
essence
an undone trail you left
lingering every nook and corner.

the heart lies awake
flurry of excitements await
to quench the thirst of lustful longing.

you come to sew up
the undone you left
to enslave with your charms
to take my breath away.
Born Oct 2014
Am human who has fallen
This world is too big
my thoughts vanquished

Am too small
always deluded with it's little things
am chained as an admirer
forced to hang myself with it's excitements
and  enchanted into slavery

My heart 'spoke' it's truth
silently,but my actions remain dreadful
the deaf calls to my ancestors
bore no fruit.
Maybe I don't have a guardian angel.

I seek engagement in it's small
pleasures
and i  pay with my sanity
Still choking on the weight of my
existence
I woke up and swore never again
but am just a lung full of smoke gasping for more air
Tim Knight Aug 2013
For Clemmie.

Long sand roads lead
to excitements with buckets and worn spades
crafting barriers to keep the sea away.

With baskets and cotton swimwear
we’d look into the eyes of each other,
lie next to each other,
be with one another.


For men will never drop the need to protect,
nest in the trees and wait for the seas:
the seas that’ll sweep up and rise in your lifetime and,
when they begin, no sewn sort branches will
save you from the swell.

Picnics made from grocery store vegetables,
ripened peppers flown in from
the greater somewhere.


Take to the skies, you’ll ask those in the know,
but they’re out of ideas before an answer materialises and is known and
snow won’t fall no more, just ice for our sidewalk commutes,
lovely and unfilled;
it’ll take a large span of time for a man to build a sand barrier worthy of note and fame.

*You take me back 63 years
every time I look at you.
From CoffeeShopPoems.com
Sharina Saad Jun 2013
and again today he whispers to your ears
"You are never good enough"
but you have your eyes shut
while you pray to god
seeks his mercy and forgiveness
Its the work of the devil...
He wants you to give up,
He sweet talks and convinces you..
he wants you to think you're in adequate
incompetent, incomplete in the eyes of our god,
the devil tries to throw doubt in our hearts
He wants to despair of Allah's mercy.
The devil will sit on all man’s paths
Till you succumb and surrender
Till you doubt your faith.. and virtue
Keep on seducing you....
Lure you with all the excitements
Don't fall for this devilish trick.
The whispers are not songs...
But  a poisonous devil in disguise...
Regardless of how bad you've been as a person
How many mistakes you've made
How many lives you scarred and tortured
in your life
God the creator wants you to repent,
He wants you to try again,
He wants your sincere effort
no matter how many times you slip and fall,
so never despair of His Mercy and Forgiveness.

The devil whispers...
Get ready your weapon
take hold of some pebbles in your hand and throw
Allaah The Almighty Says about this (what means): {[Iblees] said, “By Your might, I will surely mislead them all. Except, among them, Your chosen servants.”} [Quran 38:82-83]
Edmund black Jun 2018
I’m
Sitting here On the
      mountain top
Watching the sunrise

           With
a cup of coffee in hand
           today’s
   paper on the other
   I’m reminded of the
   Life I ought to have
           And
  How blessed I am
      To  be alive

          Oh my
What a beautiful
         Scenery

Nature surely knows
           How
  To put on a show

The Trees are creaking
And moaning  in the
             wind
The snakes are  hissing
The Goats  are bleating
The bears are  growling
The bees are humming
And buzzing In a
          distance
Birds high on the trees
  Clapping for the rise
            I swear
Excitements had them
Singing all morning long
           Even had
the leaves dancing
            For joy
              And
      Luckily for me
         I was there
With my cup of coffee
   In hand and today’s
    Paper on the other
To capture the moment
              Of  a
Perfect performance
         By Nature
I am so thankful for the sunrise today, which encourages me to be still and reminds me to take in  the forever changing of nature .... Now Imagine That ;)
Mark Wanless Feb 2022
Divine your soul's degree        it is the sucker
Of rotting mind flesh off the bright light core
A red flashing neon exploding door
To heaven is causally over
Looked for excitements and anger little
Rubber hammers of perception tap mind
Tendons born formed or this life conditioned
And we **** **** **** our days away as chattel
To fault-full man-made process rationaled
Buy this! Get wet for this! Dream this! Consume your
HOLE LIFE CONSUME!!! and sigh the wish for more
Stoppage is not in time just now crafted
Body movements speak louder than words blow
Chunks!!!      there's a full heap of actions to go
Usque incorruptibiles aeternum vivet in aeternum
                                         (356-323 B.C.)

The Regressive Legend tells that this good piece of muscular meat and brain too, was born to write his entire story dying with the blood of Etruscan Steeds, each one had golden piercings on the internal hanging of their six paranasal sinuses, to seal life by this blood-tightness. Franciscan timeless swordsman, so that with his last four molars it would give way to amalgamated crystalline light and overflowing from the gums of the period that soaked blood in the equestrian fields. With which from the ventral turbinate he would be in the first row giving pendency to the Troops of the Great Darius, from where his Alikanto Horse, dressed in degrading dust, changed his Etruria marble saddles with his paranasal attributions, and his brain roots of the hypothalamus pillar who gave them super alchemical excitements and compulsions, super powerful attack to arrive at Tel Gomel 7 days before, supported by the elixir of the Fires of the reinforced steel legs of his Alikanto, with whose entity they came out in droves looking like when they ran at great speeds pretending to be more than a thousand equine Etruscans escaping from the Culture of the Vulture war in a rectilinear scourge of speed in an inordinate trajectory by the Gaugamela tapestries.

Vernath; in one of their lives he was aware of broker comments. Along the long avenues there were countless soldiers who had taken possession of their regression! Many spoke loudly through the pavilions of their stateless conscience. After putting their good feeling of great good sufficiency, they called to him to loud voice which with little will he could hear. Then he heard himself say saying ...; They talked about me? Sooner or later I will be with my therapist, she says that before going to her office she was already dictating to approach her great Christus Martial test in Gaugamela. From the six strings of his devotional he came, taken with both hands with great force, to bend from the eyelids of his intruding Sibyl, to travel through the minimum must of the Solstice to reach the point of apogee closest to his epic, which I rescued with Eternal Life an obese arm from wars won by the peaceful Death, in the Way of oblique perpetrated committed soldiers that from Mosul swept him swirling with high bravery mounted in his Alikanto, before arriving at the low meadow forest of the Lid.

If it was a boy ... it was a Man. If he was a Man ... he was an offender of the fortress. If he was leisurely unfolded he always carried his sword, he never left it. Even his reconciling dreamed would be damaged if he deported him from his daily Christian offices. Vernath, is a living survivor precedent to the resurrected Alexander the Great, after 323 BC .. But when they breathed the same glorious air, both looking at each other, brandished cutting the sharp rudeness that divided them with the 6 Golden swords, from 6 angles of strategic fords to die. several times to challenge the pain that surpasses all life the golden strings with blood "Hexachordia Caelestialis Mortuorum", From the musical scale of agony of the sheep plains that are prey to the melodies of the scythes strengthened by the fear of the trembling of the charismatic migrant .

Vernarth was raised as befits a Greek prince, with heroic tales from Joshua de Piedra's epic poetry. He was part of a culture that demanded that great men despise personal danger and take risks to gain experience. His genealogical ancestors came from Sudpichi, near the Talamitense / Chile reign.
He also received teachings from Kalavrita's Etrestles himself in philosophy and science (Kometerium Messolonghi / Editorial Palibrio - Bloomington USA). Since childhood he was a charming guest for the guests of the court. Etrestles was named their teacher, largely to control recklessness and aggressiveness by at least tempering them with more philosophical and civilized values, far from all insomniac excess.
In this he did not achieve complete success, because his obstinacy led him to run around the world barefoot and without clothes. Vernath, far from obeying his parents. He would go out at night and chase the Moon pregnant with pale Solar light on foot to attack it and tame its silver enclosure on its Etruscan steeds, exuding the naused locked in its loopholes.

He learned a great deal from his tutor and became a highly scholarly man watching for Messolonghi and a keeper of the confines of the Kalavrita macro heavens. But he remained essentially the brave boy who spat too blasphemous atomic alcohol on the Cyclops, who wanted to be Hercules surrounded by himself without parallel. Alexander's inspiration was Etrestles; Homer's accounts of his exploits inspired Vernath in his general attitude of putting his books beyond his memoirs and bibliographic insights.

It is likely that he was seen as a brand new version of the classic Greek heroes with divine blood in SudPichi ..., good piece of muscular meat and brain. To a large extent, this was true more than her own Sibyl lying in her lived regression in the decadent heights of Gaugamela's flushed proximity.

Vernath was an extremely aggressive commander who considered any type of defensive preparation as a sign of weakness, so he dared to speak out in opposition to Saint Augustine; The personality of Saint Augustine of Hippo was iron and it took very hard anvils to forge it, attributing to her apathy not to proceed with the courage of the great Maker, for her encyclopedic fervor and scientific rigor. Perhaps in cowardice, for not facing the mysteries of the word of the present Gods. He was therefore encouraged, rather than dismayed, when the Persian army rallied behind the Gránico river, forcing him to stun across it in front of his predicted opposition, like a sovereign crusader. It is the cross of the plain that in oblique route, can rescind the old word task of the ritual punishment of the sacrilegious Pharisee death that lacks.
Vernath with more than 180,000 faithful followers, declared that the ******* did not have confidence in the victory of the greatest affront, and they counted on the pronounced banks of the river to restrain the intensity of their attack enough so that the Persian cavalry defeated him by accumulating centimeters, to gain deadly meters. He launched his cavalry across the river at the point where the enemy seemed strongest brooding, degraded soldier, and after a fierce skirmish he succeeded in driving the Persian cavalry absent from twilight elixir value alongside the extermination of the voiceless I neither sing nor sing.
The second Persian line expired, the Greek mercenaries, held firm, but was slaughtered in less than five variations of the Sun as a declaring manifesto. Depleted of jubilant water resources, the Granicus established the moral dominance of Vernath's army over his enemies and forced Darius to adopt an even more attitude. Local populations Halicamaso, a nearby port moved their lines more than 5 kilometers in their retreat retreated, before the victorious siege since he was awarded by the natural immensities of the forests of Sudpichi, together with his beloved father Bernardolipo, after consonating suspicious corners from the Osho Tarot, when he drew his sword and upright lunge on the first card, on the instep of the undefeated and naive ignorant warrior, versed strenuous mercenary.
VERNARTH ETERNAL LIGHT
Chris Weallans May 2015
This wild being,
this State of flux,
this simmering smear
flooding the pure empty nothing.

This mess of splintering sparks
showering out of the deep dark
like dotted dice in awkward tumbles.

This misfit unfolding of stuff
with its difficult excitements,
dimensions and velocities,
describing laws of gravity
and the functions of our physics.

This formal structure of strictures
that fumbles at the hems of ghosts
now shocks the senses with corners
and the hard fabric of substance

This insignificant star dust
blustering in boiling eddies
disrupting the vague vacuum
with material surfaces
that jar against the ever present tense

This sprawling and reddening shift
of blue sky light brimming in domes
This semblance of solidity
This striving galactic ocean
beyond all forms of measurement

All this

and yet each night I sleep
in the disassembly of dreams
Y Rada May 2014
Here I am looking at you from afar,
With my heart that’s full of scars.
Here I am crying silently,
Hoping still that you will glance at me.

Simple dreams were shattered,
And life left me battered.
Another hope was torn apart,
And from this world I want to depart.

But I guess this is how life goes,
And this is how the river flows.
I can do nothing but let it pass,
For I am sure this encumbrance will last.

I asked myself why not fight for you,
I answered, “I will if you feel the same way too.”
It pains when I couldn’t fight for my loved one,
But how can I battle for you if I am not your special woman?

Dear I know you are perfectly happy,
And my heart is also trying to set you free.
If I love a man, I should let him go,
Even if my own self is my foe.

Please don’t look at me like that with your eyes,
Those eyes that made me hypnotized.
I don’t wish to dream and hope again,
And then leave my heart to breakin’.

All these years I kept my love for you,
But now I know that I have to let go.
The fact that you’re taken now dear,
Look at me, I still smile with my eyes full of tears.

I still laugh the way that I used to,
You never knew what I’ve gone through.
I still have my friends to be with,
But I wish it’s you I want to talk with.

I never regret to feel these emotions,
The excitements and depressions.
I know it’s part of life and I have to accept my fate,
I know also it’s not early to love and it’s not yet late.
Samm Marie Jul 2016
Astonishingly crass and
Brave in all situations
Comfortable in all quandaries
Daring beyond belief
Elegant and poised
Furious and feisty, fueled by anger
Grand individuality with a
Heart of ice and hate
Irreverent and haughty
Jester of pride, sarcasm, and sass
King of bluntness
Lively, rambunctious spirit
Mastermind of
Neuroticism, never in
Oblivion because
Pressure cannot persuade me
Quick to speak out against the wrong for the
Right reasons but truly
Selfish motives
Tainting the
Ubiquitous notion that every altruistic attitude springs from
Very bubbly and confident people
Wandering through life with the Greek concept
Xenia exhibited on the sleeve
Yelling boisterous excitements that could a game
Zoning in on all the end goals

These are the misperceptions
That create me
jeffrey conyers Apr 2013
We always gonna have people that wants the upper hand on you.
The blackmailer or back stabbers trying to get ahead of you.

They tries to manipulate you in many ways.
Only accomplishing it.
When you give them the power too.

The upper handers.
Who really are the insecure fools of society?
Oh, they come in many degrees.
From the rich to the poor.
They live for excitements that's not theirs.
But yours.

And when their world comes crashing down.
Then they pretend they didn't create any type ruckus.
From the politicians to the mobsters.
We have seen it all.
Once entrapped, they wants to tell it all.

After they found that the upper hand isn't all about power.
Sharina Saad Apr 2014
and he whispers close to your ears
" you are the most beautiful ...."
his lyrics lulled you to sleep
" heaven is here on earth"
The whispers are not songs...
The lyrics are ....But a poisonous venom
There is devil in disguise...
Who will sit on all man’s paths
Till you succumb and surrender
Till you doubt your faith.. and fall
into the hands of evils
The tireless whispers....
Keep on seducing you....
Lure you with all the excitements
and drown you within...

The devil whispers...
Get ready your weapon
take hold of some pebbles in your hand and throw
stay away from the devils...
Arcassin B Oct 2014
By Arcassin Burnham



As close to beauty as I'll get , serving extra excitements for a forbidden wonder of which not to cross ,
even in the demented plains that hunt me down, and take my mind on a trip to the Atlantic frost,
Brain freeze is all,
But i insist I got there for all the beaches,
Girls eye glued to you, stuck like leeches,
If you can't accept the basics,
And you lead all the frustration,
Then you ever being happy is out of the equation,
Come to Flagler beach we'll have a fun time,
Let's not get in to some altercations,
Please!!
♣♣♣♣♣♣♣
Luna Craft Nov 2017
I wonder if I ever truly loved someone
Or these memories of past fires are fraudulent
Tiny lies so I can talk to my friends about the mundane
Useless drama, useless talks, little excitements
Little spats.
I'm tired of these tiny lies I tell to myself
marvin m brato Oct 2014
A bard always inscribes...

A verse or two of innate sentiments,
that convey substantive expressions.

Like an ode that tells a story of love,
or a melancholic sonnet about solitude.

Quite an elegy of suspense depicting courage,
better yet a limerick of an adventurous quest.

And best couplet enthusing excitements
of an epic account of human endeavors
narrate explicit poetic phrases.
jeffrey conyers Jun 2012
I'm bored.
I often hear friends and others say.
But when asked why?
That's the question's they can't explain.

I'm tired.
I often hear many profess.
When asked why?
They have many reasons to confess.

When in general they was performing a job test.
Or didn't try to find enjoyment in things they like.
Boredom comes from being unwilling to do.
All the things that brings excitements to you.

I'm bored.
Many are quickly to say.
But when push for explanations.
You'll be surprised by the things folks say.

Life is about fulfillments.
Which many of us controls.
And boredom is a logic we accepts.
When we simply don't set goals.

Why be bored?
When life is a blessing.
Why be bored?
When life is a treasure.

Measure by the things we accomplish,
To know all its wonders.
Lonely Poet Jul 2017
"mommy please don't forget me"
words that come out of her mouth
with her shaking voice as she held her hand
at the hospital bed,
with the doctor's breath
every words a stabbing knife
pain is all she felt,
a tear that becomes a memory
then all of a sudden a blank space.


day by day worrying she'll forget,
her mind becomes this unwanted ghost
erasing every happiness;
throwing those excitements,
forgetting the most precious memories
the child she bears;
the boy she loved

losing it every day
like a money to be spent it's penny
gone , gone , gone
waiting for it to come
she's saying goodbye to her
with her crying eyes
as she said those words


"who are you?"
i know it's not good sorry
Emm Jan 2018
Bright and lovely
and exciting!
Then time passes
and the colours seemingly lose their excitements
all done and licked
tried and tempted
What's new?
Then some are darker than others,
all shadowing and dull
Then you'd wonder are they the true colours
But, they're not
Shine and polish
your mind
the colours are the same
Just pick up your stained glass from your pocket
and you'll see the colours you choose
Bright, colourful, ... and excited!
As they once were to you
As they have always been...
the colour of stars,
blue inks,
strange excitements,
beating wings,
a shadowy sea.
Faan Dec 2017
muddy roads thin and narrow,
reaching through the quiet streets,
the alley I once grew and cherished
but it does not remember me.

wild plants growing on the sides,
once a kid picked caterpillars here,
it brought him joy and excitements,
but they must be happy hes absent.

a child used to run through this place,
leaving trail of oval imprints.
trashing the earth mother below,
the ground must be happy the kid has vanished.

No one care that he has disappeared,
not the alley, nor the people living within,
he naively thought he was part of it
but when hes gone, no one cares,
no one remembers
When I am gone, no one will notice
when the day comes, no one will
Mark Wanless Nov 2017
"Sonnets From a Conversation With a Friend XXIV "


Divine your soul's degree        it is the sucker
Of rotting mind flesh off the bright light core
A red flashing neon exploding door
To heaven is causally over
Looked for excitements and anger little
Rubber hammers of perception tap mind
Tendons born formed or this life conditioned
And we **** **** **** our days away as chattel
To fault-full man-made process rationaled
Buy this! Get wet for this! Dream this! Consume your
HOLE LIFE CONSUME!!! and sigh the wish for more
Stoppage is not in time just now crafted
Body movements speak louder than words blow
Chunks!!!      there's a full heap of actions to go
Ayesha Oct 2021
steer then forward
moons slide by
hustling days on
talking go
unchanging I—
say, not really.
an uncovered death
slowly stirring
I await, await
the blooming, as
sounds of bees
fade and fly
however patient
gold-licked lakes my skins,
sweet grief is my food
dusk-dipped despair
my bed
steer then onwards—
laced my sleep
with seas' gentle excitements
27/10/2021

Lazy Ramblings - I
William Marr Oct 2016
the public square is scattered
with traces of wild excitements

hats thrown into the sky are trampled on the ground
shoes danced so fast that their feet couldn't keep up
a brown bear is held tightly in a little girl's hand
her other hand holding the string of a balloon now plucks
at her father's intestines
motionless eyeballs still flicker with last night's fireworks
blood streams out from open mouthes like a passionate song

and the roaring message from a distant festival
can no longer excite any heart to beat again
jeffrey conyers Oct 2012
We have seconds, minutes and hours within a week.
Instantly, we have seven days of love to enjoy it.
When Sunday arises start showing it inside.
When Monday comes enjoy it more than you did.

Take in all the excitements of being accepted and cherish.
Let no bad moods be accepted.
In your seven days of love.

When Tuesday hits.
Even surprise it with your charm.
As you welcome Wednesday with open arms.

Thursday can't be left out.
It's a day to hop and shout.
Then watch when Friday arrives.
The way you greet it with a smile.

Notice the weekend count down.
As Saturday morning comes to shine.
Be thankful for that giving time.

— The End —