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"expectedly" poems
I've been searching these deserts I've been rummaging through my closet I've been eating more than usual I've been spontaneously bursting into laughter I've been attentive I've been regularly missing taking my anti-depressants I've been crying hard all at once (expectedly) I've been very extremely me This is okay - this is okay Thank you life I'm okay. I'm at this airport and it's like a chorus The people go up the ramps Fly away for 3 days like Horus The returner's come home now Waiting families embrace them with love Jumbo jets zoom outside these giant windows Visitors, excitedly saunter Into this new and open place... And this is okay Thank you, thank you airport I'm okay.
0
Jul 13, 2012
Jul 13, 2012 at 10:36 PM UTC
Airport
Lights flash. Glowsticks twirl. rip   snap   glow rip snap glow ripssnapglow ripsnapglow rispnapskgoa thelkaljth the words blend the sounds smear the colors undulate and suddenly i heave i hurl i **** i puke my stomach caves my body shivers my brow sweats my knees quiver i lurch to the ground splashing in my warm milky surprise. and expectedly i puke i **** i hurl i heave the world twists the technicolor dream-coat of Donny Osmond happiness swells. it rips it pulls it tears it ***** and I'm a hostage to its psychedelic screams. Faces twist into positions they aren't meant to hold. gasps wheeze into my pores, burrowing like soft, comforting mole rats into my being. I'm dissected.
0
Aug 7, 2012
Aug 7, 2012 at 12:30 AM UTC
Tie Dye Dreams
May the birds of happiness Always sing your songs True friends stay together Have you ever bumped into a friend expectedly , You stop, you greet You exchange small talk, However, as they walk away for a moment you wish You wore a veil just to avoid that road block Without the willow sigh of... oh **** Suddenly the memories Of your friend resurface; You slowly looked back and wave goodbye With a pleasant smile upon your face Was that Betty or Mesha B? Memories are supposed to last forever True friends stay together However, it's so hard to remember the names of old friends from your past   Without losing that gap of time and place A loss or change, healing or new beginning When everything changes; it changes everything However, as the conversation end With “Oh isn’t it a lovely day” It was so good to see you my nameless friend despite the memory loss
0
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 1:40 AM UTC
Despite the Temporary Memory Loss
That 1 lengthy and detailed conversation we had as I fixed her a hot bubble bath, it was very necessary to figure out the pattern in which each of our souls orbited around one another's life. Life. It seems that in the seams of this biographical regime, we get lost in between 2 wings, steering without a true tale, leading with our beaks instead of our two feet. Finding elation through impatience. Determination to fly without defining our own matrix. At that particular time I just wanted to slowly sit your soft body down into that pool of lavender scented steamed water, but everything you had to say nearly drowned me. The invisible crown I continuously placed on your head suddenly vanished as my imagination panicked. I always thought that my mind was backed up by my heart which was backed up by your art. Oh how gentle you scribble. I have to erase line by line, direction by direction, affection by affection, disconnect on top off disconnection. Difficulties I'm having while looking at you lather but no longer seeing you in the picture. Watching you lave as you give me your take on how our relationship was shaped was a bit unfitting. In my mind "it's inevitable that she's open for bidding". I'm lounged against the sink in a bind. Bonded by your fondness, then detached by your honest responses. How blunt you are and how drunk I'm soon to be. Wasted vibrations, my mouth began to tremble. Somehow I find an idea to cause the both of us to tickle. Temporary bliss. Moreover all of my hard efforts that night turned out to be the worst shift. I went from pleased to please. Expectedly you never tried to appease by appealing to my needs. Draining water like my decaying heart. Drying off reminds me of my suffocated feelings. Lotion as I drink this 40% potion. Hoping of hydrated coping. Can you leave? So I can shower, attempting to rinse away the most beautifully devastating hour.
0
Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 12:34 AM UTC
What Baths Boil Down To
That 1 lengthy and detailed conversation we had as I fixed her a hot bubble bath, it was very necessary to figure out the pattern in which each of our souls orbited around one another's life. Life. It seems that in the seams of this biographical regime, we get lost in between 2 wings, steering without a true tale, leading with our beaks instead of our two feet. Finding elation through impatience. Determination to fly without defining our own matrix. At that particular time I just wanted to slowly sit your soft body down into that pool of lavender scented steamed water, but everything you had to say nearly drowned me. The invisible crown I continuously placed on your head suddenly vanished as my imagination panicked. I always thought that my mind was backed up by my heart which was backed up by your art. Oh how gentle you scribble. I have to erase line by line, direction by direction, affection by affection, disconnect on top off disconnection. Difficulties I'm having while looking at you lather but no longer seeing you in the picture. Watching you lave as you give me your take on how our relationship was shaped was a bit unfitting. In my mind "it's inevitable that she's open for bidding". I'm lounged against the sink in a bind. Bonded by your fondness, then detached by your honest responses. How blunt you are and how drunk I'm soon to be. Wasted vibrations, my mouth began to tremble. Somehow I find an idea to cause the both of us to tickle. Temporary bliss. Moreover all of my hard efforts that night turned out to be the worst shift. I went from pleased to please. Expectedly you never tried to appease by appealing to my needs. Draining water like my decaying heart. Drying off reminds me of my suffocated feelings. Lotion as I drink this 40% potion. Hoping of hydrated coping. Can you leave? So I can shower, attempting to rinse away the most beautifully devastating hour.
Continue reading...
1
Did you drop into existence, light as a feather, or did you make the world implode with your erupting presence? 300 million years ago, animal but human, human and needy, riding on backs of giants to travel to farwaway places, and then soaring... Extracting anger and desperation, tying yourself tight to an image of hope, to an image of transformation, so we humans can only desire to be worthy of your donation... Nothing flusters you, and even though your wings are both blue, there is nothing sad about you. You tuck away the empty chasms of a soul made to feel too old, made to feel that it should not aspire to be the sun, but merely its shadow... and you paint their switched off, tired eyes with ineffable hues of strength. Dragonfly, you show me that through your years, you've cried and you fought your battles and some old parts of you died... and you showed me that rebirth and imperfection aren't missing but whole, that mess isn't haunted or unwanted but needed for exploration... If every particle of ours, every chemical that went into a single thought could be stored away in its designed, picturesque room, how could we claim to be mysteries? Dragonfly, now it's my turn to give away my pieces of decay, let them burn. You are expectedly lingering at my window, you've always been, and I'll no longer keep you waiting.
0
Oct 26, 2016
Oct 26, 2016 at 9:59 PM UTC
Dragonfly
Ugly and disappointing colors are what they're revealing It's a challenge not to fall victim to the deceptive deceiving This world in which all are tirelessly scheming Corrupt messages intended to disillusion our modes of sensory The laws of this dishonesty are rarely discriminant The unlimited reach of the effects are constantly consistent Putting current views and outlooks in legitimate jeopardy Originality is one thing they've made a hobby of stealing Dark, ***** secrets require intelligent attempts at concealing This society in which all are tirelessly scheming Naivity is an automatic assumption of all that is innocent You can witness their successes expending minimal energy The fraud is hazardous; failure is certainly imminent One would desire that outcome sooner than later, as it leaves recipients feeling elderly With any form of luck, more will come to share this sentiment Endless efforts put toward developing façades generally appealing Aiming to have candor and valor on the knees, kneeling This reality in which all are tirelessly scheming Sturdy quilts to shield clarity are woven most expertly Time being tested passed slowly- increment by minute increment Blueprints to fool the majority will be, expectedly, intricate What was the original reality has been altered into a distant, doubted memory Any and all accomplished legitimitacy sends them all reeling There's always a "crisis" with which we should be dealing Our universe in which all are tirelessly scheming
0
Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 1:17 AM UTC
Tirelessly Scheming
Ugly and disappointing colors are what they're revealing It's a challenge not to fall victim to the deceptive deceiving This world in which all are tirelessly scheming Corrupt messages intended to disillusion our modes of sensory The laws of this dishonesty are rarely discriminant The unlimited reach of the effects are constantly consistent Putting current views and outlooks in legitimate jeopardy Originality is one thing they've made a hobby of stealing Dark, ***** secrets require intelligent attempts at concealing This society in which all are tirelessly scheming Naivity is an automatic assumption of all that is innocent You can witness their successes expending minimal energy The fraud is hazardous; failure is certainly imminent One would desire that outcome sooner than later, as it leaves recipients feeling elderly With any form of luck, more will come to share this sentiment Endless efforts put toward developing façades generally appealing Aiming to have candor and valor on the knees, kneeling This reality in which all are tirelessly scheming Sturdy quilts to shield clarity are woven most expertly Time being tested passed slowly- increment by minute increment Blueprints to fool the majority will be, expectedly, intricate What was the original reality has been altered into a distant, doubted memory Any and all accomplished legitimitacy sends them all reeling There's always a "crisis" with which we should be dealing Our universe in which all are tirelessly scheming
Continue reading...
25
the moment when you met was rather insignificant but then someone told you that she liked you and you realized that – hey – you suddenly liked her too. and so you expectedly courted her kissing her at moments that you did with previous girls telling her old sentences recycling plainly hidden stories from your childhood: one showing your good heartedness one about your embarrassing marching band days (without forgetting to mention your pop-punk band now) and, of course, the first girlfriend tale that makes you seem vulnerable. and through these, you reveal things to her that other girls, now decaying in your mind, have known for many many months. yes you hook up and the *** is up to par and there’s some appeal to the overall lack of trying involved. you date as obligation and you somehow convince yourself that you love her because feeling wanted feels so **** pleasant and her lack of intrusion on the rest of your life is pretty convenient overall. and out of complacency this love takes hold or at least solidifies like an algae bloom and you grow tired for settling and she gets exhausted from caring and everything stagnates to a perfect balance. your blood hardens to plastic so the your muscles can no longer fight against the unsettling comfort of the life you said you’d never lead.
0
Jul 12, 2010
Jul 12, 2010 at 11:23 PM UTC
plastic blood
It turns out, - like hands, like pages turning, - That I am more petrified of everything Than you could ever comprehend. I suppose it's the waves crashing in my lungs, Or baron wasteland kissing the tip of my nose, Even more, it could be the death touch Whispering its mermaid lures to me inside my heart. Expectedly it could be the curse of gangrene winding it's way around my toes As a result of standing stagnant in this town for far too many milliseconds. But the crippling hunch is I have many places to be, a heart to give, Myself to mend, myself to mend, Shard by thumb pricking shard I am rebuilding who I breathe to be And with a time span the size of a spec of dust On the geological time scale.
0
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 6:35 AM UTC
I'd rather you treat me like I wasn't there
Laying motionless on a riverbed, Drowning at rock bottom constantly I hate to admit it but That's where you'll most commonly find me No landmarks, no marked miles, Got lost on the back roads to recovery I finally pulled out of this nosedive of false certainty Just to expectedly fall back into the same trajectory Distractions follow closely, Waiting to complicate the wrong actions I already make consistently That's a disastrous recipe That's what has made my present day a fraction of what I think it oughta be This has to be far more than what I have coming to me Like what I've repaid triggers karma's selective memory ©2024
0
Mar 29, 2024
Mar 29, 2024 at 6:21 PM UTC
~•§•~ Selective Memory ~•§•~
You're pretty and you know it using those glassy eyes to tame - my heart's suckered 'n you know it, post-sex love purely (surely?) to blame my mind melts as I grow weak at the knees your gaze flitting from sultry to predatory - blood gushes, adrenalin flushes sweat dripping upon my skin lust-crazy, expectedly oh I'll burn these nervy butterflies with this blistering searing fury, argh, stop this Pretence girl 'cause it's just starting to bore me - *Mind Control to Inner Soul; "what's your status?" Inner Soul to Mind Control; "help! The guts are dead and the heart is fractured!!!"* my body slowly dying, polluted sick with the caustic affection you instil *"WARNING; cytoplasmic deterioration imminent - extreme psycho-bitch overkill!"* for now I know I must give up the chase the Neurones have received a final transmission (oh please no, it can't be); *"This is .. Inner Soul to Mind Control.. we're all so tired.. so tired .. so .. sleepy - - -"* CLICK
0
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 6:30 PM UTC
"This Is Mind Control To Inner Soul"
Deafening brazen censures, Putrid acts of "kindness", Bloodied heart of vanity, Painted to seem worthy, Clamored to seem wordy, A twist with words, A kiss of pain, Your words of rusted steel. Disguising disgust in compliments? Please, don't waste your breath! I know of your festering conscience; I know of your elusive plays. Cherish your words, my darling; Stop using them for naught; What use to cover a rotten figure, In terribly plastered shells? Enough with your mentality! Wake up to the truth of reality! It's not society that's broken; It's you who's horribly meek! You think I'm being harsh? Snap out of your fantasy! Stop sewing faux pas, If you can't cover the seams! Everything is darker than it seems, Yet, there is also a light to it; You intend to mold the truth out of Luma, When you know it's bare of pain, You already lost, expectedly; You may get your cravings, But you will never get what you are worth; You've soiled your own pride.
0
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 3:44 AM UTC
Juggling Words
Stop right now. You may be reading other poems or numbing your mind on facebook. But just stop, and think. How did you get here? Your parents met, they fell in love, and one day unexpectedly or expectedly (hooray for both) you came along, a new life, into this universe. Let's take it back a few...billion years. The earth formed, cells had begun their transformation from single organisms to multicellular organisms, and here came along the animals. Now you might be thinking, "What in God's name does this have to do with me?" Just wait. Mammals, reptiles, and all sorts of creatures now roam the earth. Soon, mammals start to evolve and here comes Man. Intelligent, willing, and curious. These are our ancestors. All of our ancestors. Now think, what would have happened (or rather not have happened) to us had our ancestors died, billions of years ago. What would have happened to you specifically had your ancestor not lived the amount of time they had? You most likely would not be here now would you? Your grandparents, somehow out of billions of people stumbled upon each other and fell and love. Then here come your parents, children, having no idea who they're going to grow up to be, or who they're going to marry. They just happened to marry each other, then here comes you. Whoever you may be. Everything, from the beginning of time has worked out precisely, perfectly for you to be living right here, right now. And that makes you the most significant person out there now doesn't it?
0
Feb 15, 2013
Feb 15, 2013 at 8:58 PM UTC
Perfect Timing
Stop right now. You may be reading other poems or numbing your mind on facebook. But just stop, and think. How did you get here? Your parents met, they fell in love, and one day unexpectedly or expectedly (hooray for both) you came along, a new life, into this universe. Let's take it back a few...billion years. The earth formed, cells had begun their transformation from single organisms to multicellular organisms, and here came along the animals. Now you might be thinking, "What in God's name does this have to do with me?" Just wait. Mammals, reptiles, and all sorts of creatures now roam the earth. Soon, mammals start to evolve and here comes Man. Intelligent, willing, and curious. These are our ancestors. All of our ancestors. Now think, what would have happened (or rather not have happened) to us had our ancestors died, billions of years ago. What would have happened to you specifically had your ancestor not lived the amount of time they had? You most likely would not be here now would you? Your grandparents, somehow out of billions of people stumbled upon each other and fell and love. Then here come your parents, children, having no idea who they're going to grow up to be, or who they're going to marry. They just happened to marry each other, then here comes you. Whoever you may be. Everything, from the beginning of time has worked out precisely, perfectly for you to be living right here, right now. And that makes you the most significant person out there now doesn't it?
Continue reading...
17
You're a funny a little thing Your mama tells you so When you're staring into darkness At what she'd like to know With no sound at all You slink into the room You sit there all wide-eyed For it's the witching hour soon Ears pricked and ready to fight Your claws already drawn You sit and wait expectedly But all that comes is dawn And when the sun appears Your guard is up no more You cuddle up to mama Whose love you can't ignore
0
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 3:09 PM UTC
Baobao
I see the light suddenly breath caught, I wait expectedly the sound comes and shakes the world for eternity
0
Mar 9, 2011
Mar 9, 2011 at 11:03 AM UTC
storms of thunder
Life is unexpectedly wild, or maybe it’s wild expectedly.
0
Nov 25, 2019
Nov 25, 2019 at 6:38 PM UTC
Vin Diagram
I'm blunt and outspoken, But easily heartbroken. So truthfully, it’s best to lie. Or perhaps I  should say, “hide.” It’s best to hide hesitance than to let it reside In every day conversational tides— Pushing and pulling erratically, yet expectedly Like my tug-of-war thoughts The ones that route me to rot Like my wrought iron that rusts Until the build up coerces me to combust At the worst possible times.   It’s best to delude that I’m fine, Or should I allude it’s easier to whine Online to anonymous shrines Like this one? It’s easier to remind myself What’s “for the best.” “Each obstacle is a test.” What I should do. What I shouldn’t. What I’d give and what you wouldn’t, couldn’t and that I needn’t care. “It’s best now to carry on,” To claim I don’t want what I want and That what I do want is wrong. Is it wrong to pursue our desires? Wasn't a forward girl required? Or are we simply left reticent liars? It's always the stagnancy of which I tire.
0
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 7:40 PM UTC
A forward girl with unbelievable insecurity.
god almighty, it really has become that, constipated writers inc., you can see them bargain hunt the next big word - big word among very simple narrative, stands out like a christmas tree in a forest of anorexic pine - they've started the conveyor belt of horse eye shutters so they can be reined in on the basis of some puppet voodoo via the hindu muses of brahman, it's a 'down the line' moment: a does what a can only do, and b does what b can only do, given c is the process by which a does what a does prior to not doing it, like b, which does what b does prior to not doing it; me? well i too wish i was an english literature or a journalism university drop out, the hard man, the one who left school at 16 without any qualifications, started a record company, signed mike oldfield believing that tubular bells would be the basis for the soundtrack to both halloween and the exorcist (1973, 1978 and 1974 respectively) - but they're just coming out of these institutions with institutional verse - they're bothered and conscious of techniques, they know why and when to use a metaphor, they care about saying a maxim about a similie, they do everything by the rubric as if poetry was a multiplication table worth memorising, they write about thirty words a piece in order that someone might write a 10,000 word essay playing surgeon on them, cutting them up to such a bare minimum that you could almost learn kabbalah inside-out - but i did graduate with a chemistry degree unfortunately, and that makes me no hard man, but i did masacre a bottle of absinthe at about ~96% in one night and got annoyed at not being drunk enough - yeah... hard as they come... nothing to be proud of in all honesty... yes all that sugar on spoon, bit of absinthe on sugar and inferno - then some water to dilute the absinthe and make it milky green (czech absinthe doesn't turn milky, some additive is missing, i can't remember) because i have this one point to make: over-analysing poetic expression, being conscious of poetic techniques, in general orthodoxy is so ****** tedious that you begin to put faith in free verse... that splendour of spontaneity like fireworks set off un-expectedly on guy fawkes night giving you a startle.
0
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 7:23 AM UTC
those with an MA in english
god almighty, it really has become that, constipated writers inc., you can see them bargain hunt the next big word - big word among very simple narrative, stands out like a christmas tree in a forest of anorexic pine - they've started the conveyor belt of horse eye shutters so they can be reined in on the basis of some puppet voodoo via the hindu muses of brahman, it's a 'down the line' moment: a does what a can only do, and b does what b can only do, given c is the process by which a does what a does prior to not doing it, like b, which does what b does prior to not doing it; me? well i too wish i was an english literature or a journalism university drop out, the hard man, the one who left school at 16 without any qualifications, started a record company, signed mike oldfield believing that tubular bells would be the basis for the soundtrack to both halloween and the exorcist (1973, 1978 and 1974 respectively) - but they're just coming out of these institutions with institutional verse - they're bothered and conscious of techniques, they know why and when to use a metaphor, they care about saying a maxim about a similie, they do everything by the rubric as if poetry was a multiplication table worth memorising, they write about thirty words a piece in order that someone might write a 10,000 word essay playing surgeon on them, cutting them up to such a bare minimum that you could almost learn kabbalah inside-out - but i did graduate with a chemistry degree unfortunately, and that makes me no hard man, but i did masacre a bottle of absinthe at about ~96% in one night and got annoyed at not being drunk enough - yeah... hard as they come... nothing to be proud of in all honesty... yes all that sugar on spoon, bit of absinthe on sugar and inferno - then some water to dilute the absinthe and make it milky green (czech absinthe doesn't turn milky, some additive is missing, i can't remember) because i have this one point to make: over-analysing poetic expression, being conscious of poetic techniques, in general orthodoxy is so ****** tedious that you begin to put faith in free verse... that splendour of spontaneity like fireworks set off un-expectedly on guy fawkes night giving you a startle.
Continue reading...
55
I had a friend... She would keep a smile on everywhere she went, always cheerful, always a glimmer in her eyes, full on happy. She helped everyone she saw, she was a friend to most, friendly, outgoing, kind. One day, she left. The flowers began to droop, the clouds darkened overhead, the tears falling. The sky began to cry and lament for her, the children she once greeted out on the streets, they too left, hidden away in little cupboards the smiles she used to give and receive, ripped off of faces and replaced with agony. Maybe it was because what we all thought was right, maybe it wasn't alright. We've been circling around ourselves and not others. Forgetting about her when she needed someone most. "Do unto others what you want someone to do unto you" A lie. She waited. She hoped. She smiled and hoped everyone, yearning for someone to help her back. No once came. No one cared to ask, "How are you really?" Even as she stood expectedly, waiting to burst in grief and tears, just wanting to be held. But the only one that matters most is you, right? Hah.
0
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 5:45 PM UTC
No one came.
It hits you like a bullet all of a sudden but so expectedly you think it funny you didn't figure it out sooner the extent of my love for you I only just realized I should have noticed when my sun moved from the sky to beside me entwining fingers with shining eyes that envelope me in a warmth penetrating my chest and lying dormant until I need it in your absence you've illuminated the darkness that once consumed me and now I just want to bask in the very essence of you and this epiphany
0
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 1:38 PM UTC
Epiphany
Henry gazed deep into Lizzie's eyes As he held her hands She waited expectedly "You're my forever girl" "You promise?" She asked sincerely "Please don't make me lie twice" he quietly whispered in his heart "Of course" he replied in a reassuring tone.
0
Sep 12, 2023
Sep 12, 2023 at 6:42 PM UTC
Henry the Rascal
How long could you observe water being boiled? To the point of evaporation-disappearing into the air in which you breathe? How much patience do you have, to watch crayons left on the sidewalk by children? Until they melt in to runny, colorful majesty that quickly fills the space of a concrete square? For how long could you watch aluminum cans be crushed, and crushed, and crushed, and crushed? After a while these things become tedious, watching things constantly be destroyed. There was a time when it could have been sad making, but like any constant, it desensitizes. But, what if it hurt these things, left to amount to nothing at the hands of forgetful cooks, careless children, and someone eager to exchange a pound of aluminum for 85 cents. What if they knew all along that even if they weren't necessarily meant to face destruction, that they were products that were expectedly more prone? What about people? What about, me?
0
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 2:21 PM UTC
•Wasted•
They wield the button as a weapon of their verse, throwing words like a glove. But it was limp like there inconsistent verse, like a lefty throwing, right handed but worse. Your momentary time of the month, I gave you an emoji tissue to wipe off the embarrassment of sweaty words you opened up on now behave. needing a little dignity, reverse on your disembarrassment. Either that or been known for your CAPSLOCK stutter, seeing you tripping over yourself amid ridiculed clutter. now see that light on the side, click it speak respectably. now calm your rage, and talk respect others expectedly.
0
Aug 30, 2017
Aug 30, 2017 at 3:00 PM UTC
Keyboard Warrior
It's just that I never tried Filling water to a barrel With a ******** Futility, I should say. That is quite true, expectedly true Before I met you.
0
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 5:28 PM UTC
Until my heart can carry me