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Christian Ek Aug 2014
My pen is a wand. It can write a curse or a powerful charm. My pen is a mirror. It can show you a monster or a beautiful figure. My pen is a key. It can free you from a trapped door or it can lock you inside that door until the oxgen runs out and you can't breath. My pen is a weapon.  It will fight righteous battles or make a gruesome dissection. My pen is a balancing scale.
It is a balancing scale because it tilts when the yin & yang of my being begins to out weight one other.
Nothing is safe from my pen if i choose it not to be, my pen writes freely without filters or censorship.
My pen is a ship in the sea unable to maintain equilibrium set on a course to land. One day it will stay still, but on that day my pen will run out of ink.
ryn Oct 2014
It's a dance
It really is
Skip and prance
Lifelong practice

Loop of songs
Never ending
Of various genres
Life is playing

There's the spotlight
World is awaiting
Pressure of eyes
Silently watching

Take your place
Assume your position
Execute with finesse
And flawless precision

Spin your pirouettes
Don't get dizzy
Maintain your poise
In this revelry

Along comes a partner
Present as a duo
The game now altered
From when you were solo

Two bodies now
Move in unison
Reciprocate and reply
Through steps made in heaven

Flighty feet
Intertwined bodies limbre
Sweet little performance
Elapsing into forever

With grace of ballet
Each other you'd catch
Intimate display
Think you've found your match

There'll come such time
Both will not be in sync
Episodes of missteps
Push you to the brink

Alone again
Or switch of partners
Find solace in groups
Still dancing for answers

Dancing with others
Much you can learn
From hip hop to the waltz
Together or in turn

Try to adapt
To different styles
Soak up all you can
May take a while

I've danced all my life
Can't say that I've mastered
Fair share of jeers
And accolades I've garnered

Always clumsy
Exceedingly awkward
Tripping and falling
Barely proceeding forward

It's just this dance
One with syncopated beats
It's just this prance
That my gait can't meet
It's just this stance
I often use as retreat
I realised in a glance
That I have...but

**two left feet
Vierra Dec 2015
'When you look at me, what do you see?' She asked.
'I see truth beyond your years. I see youth that has no end.'  He replied calmly.
May I begin with a genuine smile and kiss? He thought.
He lent forward and began the breath of life, slowly aiming towards her half closed mouth. Her eyes closed, awaiting bliss.
'Please look at me and kiss me and only me.' He requested. 'I need you to be real because of your youth.' 'We cannot begin with a lie. You are of age but still so young.' He explained.
He was speaking of age requirements in respect to relationships with the opposite ***.
'Yes, my love.' 'This is my first in my ageless youth.' She said with a hint of melancholy.
'I am frightened.' She further explained.
Let's start again. He lent forward and began teasing her lips with his. He pressed his hot mouth over the top of her upper lip, then slowly and gently, released and continued with the lower. Attack and defense, attack and defense, until a slow, settled agreement with a warm breath and flick of her tongue. This small battle happened for fifteen minutes.
'I am moist and waiting.' She said in ******.
Let it begin, the dance, from ages before. A dance from lifetimes before us and one that will continue until there is nothing.
'Let it begin.' He stated.
Days later, she agreed to it again. Then he agreed to it again, days later.
A small hop to her step was noticed by neighbors and she smiled to herself often
Him, on the other hand, was already prepared for this.
Years later, they would reminisce of these small events gratefully  and with a fondness of their youthful experiences, at the alter.
They both smiled and agreed to private dances that they hope will produce sweat and blood.
i am shy but i manage
Marla Apr 27
Nineteen years ago,
I was born to a woman
I've yet to know.
She would holler and cuss me
Up and down,
Beating me into a mist
With an open fist
And her furrowed brow.

I tried to expose her vanity once.
She broke a mirror 
And slit my throat with the biggest shard.
As she did so,
I heard her say
"Toughen up, because this life is hard."

My tears drove the blood off the glass
As I sat flat on my ***,
Reflecting upon who I was
As the mirror foretold
Who I would not become:

A horrible woman
Destroying what she was meant to love.

Now, I sit abandoned in my car,
Low on gas and not going far.
My soul has gone
And passed me by.
O lord,
Am I misery's child?
I still remember what she last said,
Those violent words echo in my head:

”Apologies, but you're no longer our problem.
We held up our end by getting you in debt,
It's not our fault you don't know how to spend.
We at least try to pretend like we care,
But you're so inconsiderate and spoiled.

It's not so hard to get a high paying job,
I've had one here since at least '03.
Seems like you're just pretty lazy to me;
Go to unemployment if you're hungry. 

Don't complain or try to change it,
You shouldn't have been born
If you're not "man" enough to make it.
Millennials like you are all the same,
Getting in the way of my retirement. 

Your generation has really gotten lost,
Homosexuals now have their own **** cause.
They're protesting and lying
Saying that the world's dying,
I really don't have time for all their *******. 

Now I guess it's time for you to go,
Have fun being homeless and broke.
I wish I could see the look on your face
When your world crashes down
And your sanity faces extinction."

My existence is a heavy one,
But I simply can't resist
The burning temptation
To look back and reminisce 
On how much of my childhood I miss.
The toys were for playing,
Sick days for faking,
And holidays lushened my savings.
The world was full of wonder
As well as excitement,
Nothing could pull me under
Or tamper with every precious moment. 

Hindsight is 20/20,
But nostalgia is more a rosy haze.
That's why I know that with 
Every jolly laugh or hearty smile,
My parents beat me down
So that I'd forever stay mild. 

The scars in my psyche still mix
With what I want to believe
My past really is,
But time has taught me
That wishing for a better past
Won't help us save the future.

I read a poem many years ago,
It's message of hope and freedom
Seems to have gone the length it could go.
Feeling the author's ethereal dismay,
I adapted it to our modern age:

Not unlike the monster for which it was named,
With debaucherous whims that divide foreign lands;
Here at the briny, gilded portal to our home now stands
A hollow woman with a torch, whose warmth
Has become faded and disheartening, and her name
Mother of Philistines. From her once guiding hand
Emerges world-wide distaste; deranged eyes ransack
The smog-filled harbor that dystopias fame.
“Keep, other lands, your progressive pomp!” shrieks she
With welded lips. “Take our tired, our poor,
Our huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of our teeming shore.
Take these, the homeless, tempest-tost from me,
Lift your lamp as a guide and take them all!”

Heavy as it all may be,
I've witnessed this to be reality.
They drive around
In fanciful cars,
Acting profound
And giving us scars. 

Don't trust them for a minute,
our commanders in chief.
They'll leave you diminished-
Hollowed like Swiss cheese.

My routine now is so hollow and boring,
I've made a list and by god I deplore it:

Awaken
Rise
Walk
Empty
Clean
Kiss
Goodbye
Drink
Eat
Sleep
Aw­aken
Boredom
Silence/Music
Boredom
Loneliness
Sadness
Arrival
Hello
Kiss
Talk
Smoke
Lo­­ve
Eat
Watch
Goodbye
Watch
Smoke
Sleep
Awaken

(Repeat ad nauseam)

At least now that I have a new job
I can feel productive and not be a slob.
Rise and shine, time to cruise away;
Rushing out in the dollar's name
As my life is used in vane
For poor commerce's sake.
"It doesn't matter if your heart aches
Or if tragedy gives you a teary shake
You better not be late
Or you’ll eat from an empty plate
And starve until heaven's gate."

Arrrrgh! I can't bear the aching strain!
It seems I'm stumbling yet again!
My mind is slipping swift-like;
Kindly please step in this time.
Taking a bend distracting the pain;
Faking solace standing in rain.
Let’s sink a hearty round o’ drinks,
Glasses half full with a browned out tint.
Pipes smashed as stability abruptly shatters-
Life’s abashed daze subtly ceases to matter...

But then,
A calming voice
Guided my head
And decided my soul
It was to mend:

"Breathe deep
And digress painfully
As the slow burning march
Of time's progression
Takes your soul."

Then a message that came
From the ether one day
Did tear my soul sore
In a way I cannot explain:

"You can't stay young forever
___

Life will try to leave you behind anyways"

And so, I posed a question most should:
"Why live life if it's joys are no good?"

But ARRRRRRRRGH!,
THE AGONY, THE PAIN
I've suffered so much and it feels all in vane.
Fighting my demons within a cage
While this mounting plume of rage
Boils up throughout my veins.
If I could snap now,
You bet I would.

Learning to live with ancient pains
Scarring my feeble brain
As she soaks in her bloodstain.
If I could snap now,
You bet I would.

Standing out on the edge
Wishing I was dead
As the wind pushes my head.
If I could snap now,
You bet I would.

But my life ain't history
There's still plenty left to see
Like a day when I stand free.
I know I can't snap now,
I've got to see it through
So that one day this tale may reach you.

I'm much wiser now than I was long ago,
It's been 8 months that I've been taking it slow.
If I know anything now, it's that life isn't a trap;
It can be more of a trip if you learn to fight back.
But you have to love yourself first
Here, I'll let you see
The words I wrote for you to read:

"Be kind 
Every time
Your reflection
Meets the eye-

Who you see
May just be
The person
To set you free."

That's all she wrote about her life and journey,
So many times it could've ended with a gurney.
Now take my heed as a call to arms
For our armies are millions thick and much too strong.
Let us relay this message to our tormentors,
Who have ****** at our souls like feasting dementors:

We, The Progeny
Have toiled too long
&
Shouldered too much

For us to deserve
The moniker of
"Children"-

Henceforth,
Call us all "Atlas,"
For we carry your 
Trespasses against this world
Upon our bloodied shoulders.
The adapted poem is based off of "A New Colossus" by Emma Lazarus, which is immortalized on a plaque at the base of The Statue of Liberty.
All other poems and musings in this suite were written by me.
Carter Ginter Sep 2017
I cannot sleep
Or at least I choose not to
Until the sun breaks the horizon
I wake up to a typical ringtone
But sometimes my heart hurts
Like it used to when I smoked
And after 12 hours of rest
I can still barely open my eyes
I cannot convince myself that
There's a real reason to wake up
I am so alone aside from my love
That any social interaction crashes over my body with
guilt and embarrassment that have no purpose
I swallow a few conversations but they hurt
I miss the friends I used to have but I know
We changed so much it could never be the same

And through recent interaction
I realize how much I miss my community
Surrounding myself with those who understand
My fears
My pain
My experiences
Without me having to explain it
Validating my emotions and
Reminding me that I am allowed to feel the way I do
Simply because I do
Allison Feb 27
The toxic blood ran
Ran out of her
Like an animal
Running from a predator
She gasped for air
As she bled out
Weak and alone
She cried
She thought she was dead
Until
The bleeding stopped
The sun rose
And alas
A flower bloomed
Marla Apr 11
Lying helplessly
On a stranger's lawn
Somewhere in
American Suburbia,
Dosed to the ears in
party favors.

It's easy for one
To let go
And float into space
So long as they know Calm
itself by its full name.

Others though,
Their worries
And inhibitions
Shackle them to the ground
Until the Earth itself
Seems to swallow them
into her fiery depths.

Yes,
Living under the influence
Is only a jolly trip
When you become
The influencer
yourself.
Advent Oct 2014
coffees are my one-way ticket to contemplation–
to realizations and dramas
it shapes my eyes
to view life like a panorama

coffee makes me think
about the world,
the people
and both combined

coffee connects me to the crowd
to their lives,
mishaps
sometimes shared with mine

coffee gates to different events and realities
it awakens wishful thinking
and kicks curiosities

coffee, summed up
is a friend
of all those who've got their heads in their *****

it is a guru of life
love,
and other life experiences


                                                   ­       a.t.
DuBray Mar 2018
Faces upon faces
Going through me
Will there be linking traces
To see

A necklace of experiences?
I have grown old,
My hairs are all white,
And my eye-sight is failing rapidly;
I no longer trust my body.
I am now left
With the strength of my mind
And the will-to-live
Which make me think and reflect
In my past experiences.
The intimacy with myself is rent
And I have never cared to inquire
About the kind of world hidden within me;
I have never thought
About my final moorings
And I have never been informed
About the sweet nectar of true happiness
Available everywhere.
I have tried to wander on my own
And refused miracles,
But where ever I go
I swiftly follow me
As if I exist yet do not exist,
To remind me that I am always alone.
The Rogue Poet May 2016
On days like today

weary I lay,

The delicate flower
is how I am portrayed,

I pray & I pray the rain & wind does not ******* away

I brace myself as I sway with roots gripping the grains.

I grip & I fight in hope of a better tomorrow & today

As I feel as I am just along for the ride,

I start to lose faith through hours of the day.

the clusters of ghastly dark clouds begin to separate,

& The rays beaming through the clouds are breathtaking.

With light & warmth I begin to bloom,

& so do the emotions that were gloom.

When I was in doubt my feelings became frayed,

My experiences helped me blossom from The Delicate Flower I was portrayed.





{RP}
Kent Aug 1
I sat
between the city and the sea
On a sunny summer’s day
When an Italian dream
a rocker queen
decided to grace me

It feels so unreal
to see such an angel exist
Her braided raven hair
and icy seductive stare
keeps me in wondrous bliss

With crystal shades
of green and blue
Her lovely eyes
gazed into
my passion
And found
the soundtrack of our lives
to be the same
Yet different
in the world to which it played
Nevermind the language spoken
Our lives connect
In hybrid moments

Welcome to L.A
A place where Angels belong
Though you cannot stay
A connection is lifelong
So let’s dance while we can
singing rock and roll songs
Creating memories
that will never be gone
The experience
of meeting you
An Italian Deam come true
Inspired by a real-life experience where a drop-dead gorgeous Italian rocker girl introduced herself and befriended me out of nowhere.
Sharon Thomas Jun 2015
..life is full of life
like a magic land full of wonders,
like songs whose notes go high and low,
with lines which rhyme to make a flow!
and whole experiences in life goes just like a wind's blow:
soft yet swift, silent yet clear.
It begins,continues and may even end well only if you put forward a  virtuous life indeed.
All you need to be away from is the poison tree
which fed Adam and Eve.
Look away!
It may be placed in the center of your life too.
You may find it the most glossy and glittering today.
Bowing to this may keep your head held down forever.

Know this fact for a sinless life
All the tempting trees yield fruits sour & reel
you'll stumble,totter,wobble & falter!
Then'll you realize fasting away this fruit was better.
But by then you'll lose paradise forever and fetter!

So let us all not reach to this concluding our lives should have a better ending.
which is to be more certain,graceful & dutiful.
Cos we live only once but it should have the worth of tons
Life'll help you do that..As "life attracts life"
BEAUTIFULLY ,ENORMOUSLY & PERFECTLY!!
Chris Neilson Mar 2017
Raindrops keep falling in my life
pitter, patter, pitter patter, trouble and strife
unfamiliar experiences and reactions rife
a body like butter with pain the knife

Life went on 'til illness pressed pause
a reticent role of rebel with a cause
each day now a battle in wellness wars
poetic metaphors dig like devil's claws

An existential journey throwing curve *****
the game of life gives iffy line calls
barriers and hurdles provide plentiful falls
bad days find you climbing the walls

Hearing Carpenters songs wearing a frown
rainy days and Mondays always got me down
danna22081 Apr 12
It might be said:

They asked me to write with a free mind,
But a free mind impairs my ability to write.
It is merely the maze of rushing, running thoughts
Which guide my internal ideas to take flight.

A matrix of images, fluidity
Entranced through the whirl of shades
Much too vibrant to comprehend, to process,
And truly remind me of my own, estranged timidity.

For I am relatively grown, despite my
Simple inability to recognise the world of colours
Foreshadowing the guarded thoughts I secure
With much difficulty.

For my incompetence in containing rushed thoughts
Is consistently expressed
Through my most voluntary incentives,
To simply hold a pen and write down my mess.
She once said: "I need to really grab a hold of my thoughts more often; to hold a pen, and remove the uncoordinated trail of events embedded within my memory."
Luz Hanaii Jan 2014
Many think, I used to think this as well, that to be happy you must fill exalted and exited. When good things happen to us we naturally feel good and elated, it's a natural human response. Good things make us feel good and what we consider not good, make us feel bad.  A natural child and human response.

The sense of  happiness I'm describing here is not the mere result of a reaction to some happy event but is rather the state of being of our spirit, the acceptance that there will always be things that we have not control of, which we feel are bad and make us angry or sad.  True happiness in my estimation is being at peace, not letting our emotions, either good or bad determine our inner balance.

How many times those things I considered  bad, latter where the very things which help me learn and grow.  Experiences such as, illnesses, poverty, abuse, ignorance, depression, anxiety, fear... on and on, are nothing more than teachers, though we may see them as tormentors, when they first strike at us.

We are taught to live in this world using our five senses.  Therefore we estimate that happiness must be having good things and good feelings. We are thought to judge in order to survive in this world.  And that is fine up to a point, if we don't look before crossing the street, we take our chances at getting hit by a car.

We are taught that happiness is outside of us, we look for entertainment, material things,  and people to make us happy.  We look for support and words from others to value who we are, it is the normal thing a child does. It is the normal process of the primitive survival geared mind.

Some of us have not have the blessing of having parents that were happy within themselves, we've been verbally and physically abused, publicly ridiculed,  beaten, not validated/ignored, minimized and made to feel sick and disconnected etc... we've come from broken homes and broken people trying to raise us as best they knew how.  We are trying to heal and grow. We are all seeking to be happy.  We are all seeking support from an exterior world and from people, it's natural.  But as we mature and awake, we realize that no person, entertainment or thing can ever truly give you the happiness you need. We need to stop comparing ourselves with others or taking to heart their estimation of us. We need to revise and update the old programing in our minds given to us by our parents, school, the world. We have to learn to forgive others, love and accept our selves to find true happiness.  

I once heard a good example of what happiness is, which I had not considered.
Example below
*******
Look at your hand and observe how each finger is happy.  They don't ask for anything, they simply are.  Now if you were to hit one finger with a hammer the finger would stop being happy.  It would start to throb with pain and depending on the impact the pain would go away or stay longer.
True happiness is simply that, just being.

Revised @9/21/16
-Luz Hanaii
I revised this, for growth is not set in stone, my way of seeing things changes as I move on with time. There are different angles and ways to look at things. I understand that we don't all use the same eye prescriptions, my limited perceptions may not agree with yours.  Also that by me judging your way of observation as wrong, would only limit me and my growth.
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