"exsists" poems
There exsists people
who live on the bread of
Inequality
Injustice
Hypocracy
Prejudice
Dear those people
I must say
you are really poor
A girl is borned
tangled in so many boundations
and these restrictions
are right from where
their lifecycle begins
to their deaths
Belive me these chains
which grab them
weigh them more than
anything
Some die
Some struggle
Some protest
These activities
are all variant
but why only girls
need to do all of that
why they have to beg for their
FREEDOM
why they are so desperate
for education
There is only one life
to live in this
beautiful world
let us not waste that
lets unleash those chains
lets break those cages
lets remove that handcuffs
and make this world more beautiful
Aug 6, 2020
Aug 6, 2020 at 5:45 AM UTC
hollow pointed flowers
litter,
the war torn fields,
watered,
by the blood from human
carcass's
left,
after the battle.
now,
become mulch and food
to toxic soil's greed
the children
play
among the dry, white
bones
building clacking, castles
high
and scavenging the metal petals and kahki cloth
for with which,
they haggle, for food to buy.
their world of
decrepit decay,
exsists.....
under a cloud of grey
and with only the
memory of parents,
they make their own way...
what once was green
is now brown
and what was was steel
is now rust, upon
the ground.
but not the hollow flowers,
somehow,
they retain their gleam
and they glitter,
like diamonds,
in the harsh daylight.
they, the children,
the keepers of this world,
know not how
to smile or cry.
they live to survive
to them simple things,
like joy and laughter
are myths.
they have no time
to ask why...
but they love,
the little flowers,
that sit upon the sands.
the hollow pointed flowers
that feel right, within small hands.
and the songs
they sing, are murky
as to the prayers
they say,
before bedtime....
just, undefined mantras.
taken from the before.
when the gods,
were advertisements
and everybody suceeded.
everybody was needed,
everybody was blind,
to creed and colour
and the world was
fine and dandy.
and mothers loved
their children,
fathers walked beside.
this, before the sundering
before the parents,
fought and fought
and died.
leaving just dusty bones
in toxic fields
and bullet blossomed
flowers
to mark the loss
of life...
to mark the loss
of living...
to mark the end of
fighting....
to mark the end of
destruction...
after the dying was done
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 6:57 PM UTC
there is a medium of loneliness
where I find you on sulken days
damp like thin paper
subdued in hues
your eyes run down my paintings
like a oil spill engraved on the face of the universe
morbidly beautiful I cast you on my bewildered
kite
I stare up at you
with shattered eyes
I reach for you like barren agony
and you come down to me
we meet in our empty land
we prance it like skipping heart beats
we cut it open like red meat
while the rest of the world is beneath our feet
we retreat
into forelorn seclusion
the place we loved after all the defeat
and to myself I repeat
and I repeat
how are you so stunning
that you casted my fixed gaze from the stars
brung my world to a standstill and everything
I held onto now falls
when I hear the beckoning of your gazes call
and I know that love though dark and endless
beautiful and agless
exsists after all
Oct 30, 2010
Oct 30, 2010 at 10:42 PM UTC
Waking up is the hardest part.
Opening my eyes, only to realize that you're not here.
To realize you probably wont be again.
Knowing as I open my eyes, you're opening yours, looking over to your signifigant other.
I lay here, praying that maybe, you just might be here again.
But what is the use of praying to something I dont even know exsists? I lay here, knowing that at some point, I have to get up.
For what?
I have no reasoning anymore.
Infact, I have no reasoning for anything anymore.
I find it quite useless to even breathe.
I dont know what im doing.
Jun 9, 2011
Jun 9, 2011 at 7:18 AM UTC
When we're tired we sleep
And when we sleep we dream
And lately i keep seeing this dog
Can someone tell me what it means?
He's a little Akita hound
Pointed ears and scrunchy nose
I named him Tanuki
Because he looks like an undersized fox
With no weasels to hold
He's little, tiny and loyal
But only exsists in my head
He loves snuggling by me, apparently
He's loves nodding his head
So why do i keep seeing this adorable dog
As i hover over the cliff of sleep?
So can someone please tell me,
What do my dreams mean?
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 8:31 AM UTC
pulsating and deep
dripping sweat,
and nothing but heat.
hips pointed high,
and eyes to the sky.
In a rocking motion,
thigh against thigh.
while you just lay there,
with your eyes open wide
... never knowing,
you're tearing from inside.
Until you're moving,
moving all about.
And you're bleeding,
so you shout!
And friends come running,
while the boy once full of motion -
just continues lying there.
With no concern at all,
except for himself,
and his hair.
Soon the hours start to pass,
the catheters, the doctors, the glass.
The blood flows, but the heart just stops.
Maybe from the morphine drip,
maybe from the tear,
maybe from the Mother,
whose now standing there.
The one who will stroke your filthy palm,
the one who you'll tell:
you raised a little girl, ma,
who can't choose men real well.
But if luck still exsists,
she'll hold you without a care.
And she'll help to mend the tear
that left you lying there.
Eventually you'll drift to sleep,
maybe out of weakness,
maybe after a good weep.
The suture will come out,
and the blood will cease.
But you, sweet darling,
will awake nowhere near peace.
Know you can clean up the mess, girl,
and you can hide that scar.
But the truth is, it's there,
wherever you are.
And he's not alone.
There's plenty of him.
But maybe next time sweet girl,
you won't just seek a lover,
but a friend.
Jan 9, 2013
Jan 9, 2013 at 9:26 PM UTC
this patron
no longer exsists
well this is news
to me
i just returned some
overdue books
and wish to borrow more
but nope, not me
I no longer exsist
that must mean
I need not buy
those lambshanks
for tea
Not pay those bills
teeter tottering on
the verge of overedue
no need to be pleasent
to any one, especially
not you
Rude lady, new
to the system
who has coldly
informed me
of my demise
Who states with
disinterest and haught
in her spectacled eyes
You must not have
borrowed for
the past three years
You no longer exsist
this she did insist
even as I pointed out
I had returned books
only three days overdue
Even as other librarians
stopped to chat, knowing
my name, recommending
new books, telling me gossip
about this and that....
This patron does not exsist
it cannot be true, it is not a glitch
this patron is a patron
through and through
I left them to figure out
the mystery, I did not pout
or get out of sorts and a little blue
I said I would come back Monday
that is if over the weekend
I do not simply fade away
May 27, 2017
May 27, 2017 at 8:57 AM UTC
When the world crumbles and erodes
there are few witnesses who make a call
they wait to recieve a ring
desperately
carrying on restlessly
and like a tree that has fallen in the
middle of nowhere their lack of a voice
makes us question the damage
or if the events have even happend
but internally we are all left shaken
waiting on a hero who only exsists in legend
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 12:50 AM UTC
Love wrapped me up
Into silky veil
And spinned me around
So gently
I forgot the world around me
Exsists
It made me dizzy
So much
That the only thing
I still have on my
Mind
Is his lovely face
May 31, 2019
May 31, 2019 at 2:35 AM UTC
is better than going to a fancy restaurant, or a party of people we don’t know
it’s better than commutes on the train with you,
or walking in the rain with you
partly because when your eyes are closed you look so at peace
partly because of your even breathing,
partly because of your love for big sweatshirts
partly because of our intertwined hands passing warmth between us.
It is hard to believe when I’m with you that time exsists at all
that the planet is spinning, and the whole universe is expanding,
and the stars twinkle on the other side of the earth
leaving us so small and weak, laying in the rays of the warm sun
that come streaming through my window
and your chest rising and falling, and you hair spread out on the pillow,
and the dust around us falling more slowly than usual
and
the tick of the clock, and the sound of still air, and the occasional creak
of the wooden floor doesn’t seem real, and in this house,
in this room, I share with you my sanctuary of silence,
for you are my only grasp on reality, yet you pull me
into the unknown
at the very
same
time
I look
at you, and I would rather look at you than all the rock stars in the world
except for maybe The 1975, because their concerts are incredible
but if we went to see them together, I’d have both to enjoy
if I went alone, I’d have fun dancing and singing along,
but I’d rather us be together,
and we’d kiss to the intro of fallingforyou.
I’d rather us be together, I’d rather watch you jump to the beat of the music
and in the comfort of my house, I’d rather watch you twirl around
in my living room to the music in our heads.
or we can just nap together
because taking a nap with you is peaceful, and quiet and soft
and better than everything else
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 7:24 PM UTC
I never was that girl that wanted to marry
After only two months I was already weary
Commitment for me was was too steep
I was known as the girl never to leap
The chances I've taken never really counted
I would rip out their hearts and on my wall they are mounted
I would cheat all the time, then be honest with them
With every new guy, out the door my soul went
Deep down inside I was really just scared
What if I found it, that feeling, that flair?
Open up and get hurt? It's a thought I couldn't bare
In a thousand little pieces my whole heart would tare
So I dated in double digits, never just one
If my daddy didn't love me, love was no fun
Until one day, in the room walked a man
Now that day is known as the day my life began
Could it be true. love at first sight really exsists?
Two days went by, we had our first kiss
I couldn't believe it, he made my heart beat so fast
And then before I knew it, my two months had past
It was now time for me to let go
Before any feelings could start to show
I didn't want to do it, I was his new biggest fan
But if my daddy couldn't love me, how could this man?
What changed my life happened the very next day
He caught me surprised, off gaurd and amazed
In a bathroom at a party, he told his feelings to me
What he did next I couldn't believe
Just by holding my hand he set my heart free
I thought, what could he do with a kiss on the cheak?
Now it has been one year and a half
I remember my past lovers as I sit and look back
The longer I'm with him, I appreciate them more
Because they were the path that led me straight to his door
For the first time in my life, I hold nothing back
I give it my all. I want it to last
You've heard the saying, a dozen a dime
This man is priceless. He is one of a kind
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 9:14 PM UTC
The waves fold over one another, they foam at the mouths of every blue cascading tide.
The shallow sand bar curling their tips
At every rhythmic heartbeat,
swelling, to reach the shore
beneath my bare feet.
Is there anything more beautiful
then standing at the edge of the world?
I doubt that theory, as my eyes
are undoubtebly lost within
each of her watery curls.
I remind myself to let go
this is the only thing on the planet that
exsists right now.
I try my hardest to break free
of all the racing thoughts that
always unforgivingly burden me.
Down my legs they run like
raindrops, through my veins over my feet
I cast them out with light conscience
may they sink with haste
in the deepest realms of the sea.
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 11:32 PM UTC
Sinful howls echo from lost scripts written in stone
History has kept breathe into your memory for centuries
Quite mysterious you were, scaling your way across flatlands, leaping through the shadows of deaf eyes
Strong heart equipped for battle, a lover, not a fighter
Searching desperately for misplaced roots of which you came, a place to call home
The pieces never found, although the script still exsists
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 2:03 AM UTC
*Something like a Fairy Tale flying with pixes, dust following behind gallantly sprinkling upon a magical land
Filled with creatures who hold powers to every childs dream, granting great permissions of the imagination of those who believe
Conversations with wise old tree's that have such tales to tell, holding the hand of a grand wizard who casts spells
Traveling on roads made of the purest of gold, passing by beautiful gardens of humming flowers
Vibrant colors all around, impeccable beauty bestowed with-in this land of great and powerful things
Make a wish and it shall be granted by magic of the highest mountain, accompanied by a wise owl with the most powerful wings
It is he who keeps this magical place alive and vibrant, watching over all that enter, his guidance is in our hearts.
Gordon is his name...
He is hundreds of years old and his feathers are young and bright, he sees all and never forgets
Such a place exsists in a Fairy Tale*
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 7:48 PM UTC
I do have a dream
like the good Dr. King
I know that with time
New trials life brings
I dream of a day
where kids can go out and play
and won't have to worry about
waking up in the hospital later that day
I dreamt of a place that is filled with beautiful things
and maybe, just maybe I can make a living with six strings
my mind wandered onto a plane where it's not considered insane,
to love everything and everyone, regardless of color, creed, or even their last name
Maybe this dream will be fulfilled,
maybe while I'm alive,
but I know that place exsists
it's in front of God's Eyes
I dream of that place
with a halo and that long white robe,
that place many call heaven
where the streets are paved with gold,
The buildings made of priceless jewels,
all our hurts and pain brought to the final curtain call
I dream of this wondrous place
where hopefully, once again I'll see you all.
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 3:05 PM UTC
I like your ink on paper perminance
The hard line of intensity
In your hand writen notes
Around the house
Even the grocery lists
And the way your hands shook
When you zipped my dress
I take it you are not shaken often
And the way you hang out
around the kitchen
While i sit on the counter
And look at you
I watch your lips when you speak
Wondering if that passion exsists
In your kiss
And wondering how often
I can sit on your bed
Without you laying me down
I wonder if you can read my eyes
Like story books.
I wonder if you know
I wonder if you know
I see you too...
And the way you look at me.
Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 4:15 PM UTC
The promise to stay
is just a lie
that uh wanna delay
the promise to love
is something above
Reality is not just not him
and him not being real
all I fear
is being him with her
and her doesn't exsists
what exsists in him is me
that would soon flee
That separation would be easy
my heart wouldn't ache
and these illusions are all
my heart make
Our love can't be viewed
as there aren't any hands craving
but heart pounding is amazing
that could be felt dude
But these feelings can't overcome
the ****** and ***
that he is responsible for
and he got no score
Sep 27, 2020
Sep 27, 2020 at 3:40 AM UTC
Insanity exsists, in an individual and in humanity. You can get it rare,
medium, or well done. Right now, it seems humanity is ready to order.
Humanity most recently ordered WW I, WW II, The Korean War, The VietNam War, The Iraq Wars (Papa Bush and W), The Afghanistan War
(ditto), Syria, Yemen. ad nauseum. Insanity often results in killings, but
I would argue that it is self-induced, that had there been benevolent,
professional intervention, we could have prevented these mass muder-
fests. But hey, wars, especially big world wars, are money-makers,
and the money-makers are not the ones being killed. And then there are
variations on this theme: catasphrophic climate change and the imminent
threat of nuclear holocaust. One can get carried away with this killing
stuff, you know. And, what would you like for desert?
Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks
Apr 6, 2020
Apr 6, 2020 at 12:53 PM UTC
If threw love i can not speak
Then put me on mute
I have spoken word
Elegance of poetic imperfection
Intermingled with my voice
My voice
What does it sound like.
I think I have a deep voice
One that can boom across a stage
One that can make a whisper well heard
I learnt that in grade school
I say a lot of things in a day
My friends tell me quite blatantly
"Dude, you talk a lot"
So what do my words boil down to?
Are they not more than stationary constructs of pointless interaction
Will not in a year nobody, even me, remember what has been said!
Well
No.
People have a hard time forgetting what people say
In the 21st century we get the curse of picking what we hear is all.
We hear how ******* up our world is on the news all the time
Do we hear about kindness love or compassion?
Not really.
So I am going to speak in love.
There's nothing you can do about it either
Love is why the world still exsists.
Lack thereof is what's causing us to self-destruct
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 12:39 AM UTC