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"extremes" poems
i. not bad, i commented to myself as i watched you do your thing for the first time ever ; not bad was my way to say extraordinary still is today i have standards, you see and — well... they were met when i heard you say, "that's only half what i can do." let's get this straight: i was the best at what i do until you came around ; it's not like i'm mad though — quite the opposite  in fact. ii. here's something else: i have always liked the way your eyes shot daggers even when you were smiling ; a death stare, they named it and, you know, i won't call them wrong — i'm rather fluent with the concepts of death and staring myself, after all. ah, do you remember? when we spoke to each other — it was always a sparring of eyes rather than words. iii. a fact: you have been called cold more often than you have been called pleasant ; i know  — it's not like you'd disagree not like you'd be stupid enough to deny ; cold is a comfortable shadow to hide in, something people like us wear as a coat or a scarf from july to june. now, there's this saying that the addition of two negative objects turns them a positive result ; i'm not much of a scholar so, honey, what's on your mind? iv. i get it now, if i'm propellers you are wings — rather than a mirror, we're distorted reflects a thing evolution knows a great deal about ; this yearning is the aspect of you i'd wish to keep bottled up ; "what for?" you'd ask. no, yearning is not a thing i'm a stranger to ; i've yearned for many things including strength sleep serotonin and you — i've been struggling to make them mine, though perhaps because i'm never really trying. v. that's how you do it: you take what you want with clawed hands accomplish miracles with thunderous silence — an entity of cruel fairness, icy anger but — what you want is a complicated thing with definite shape to your eyes but blurry to those of others. okay, i'm neither believer nor seer but here's a little prediction : the day you are satisfied is the day hellmouth shuts down upon us all and half of me prays for it. vi. about extremes — some will say grey is a better shade and though i confess it does have its charms, it still has to paint me a picture more striking than a soul with adamentine purpose. see — i stare as you pass by, terrific in beauty beautiful in hardness and off — goes my heart, sanity, ego and shirt.
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Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 6:04 PM UTC
digressions on polarity
i. not bad, i commented to myself as i watched you do your thing for the first time ever ; not bad was my way to say extraordinary still is today i have standards, you see and — well... they were met when i heard you say, "that's only half what i can do." let's get this straight: i was the best at what i do until you came around ; it's not like i'm mad though — quite the opposite  in fact. ii. here's something else: i have always liked the way your eyes shot daggers even when you were smiling ; a death stare, they named it and, you know, i won't call them wrong — i'm rather fluent with the concepts of death and staring myself, after all. ah, do you remember? when we spoke to each other — it was always a sparring of eyes rather than words. iii. a fact: you have been called cold more often than you have been called pleasant ; i know  — it's not like you'd disagree not like you'd be stupid enough to deny ; cold is a comfortable shadow to hide in, something people like us wear as a coat or a scarf from july to june. now, there's this saying that the addition of two negative objects turns them a positive result ; i'm not much of a scholar so, honey, what's on your mind? iv. i get it now, if i'm propellers you are wings — rather than a mirror, we're distorted reflects a thing evolution knows a great deal about ; this yearning is the aspect of you i'd wish to keep bottled up ; "what for?" you'd ask. no, yearning is not a thing i'm a stranger to ; i've yearned for many things including strength sleep serotonin and you — i've been struggling to make them mine, though perhaps because i'm never really trying. v. that's how you do it: you take what you want with clawed hands accomplish miracles with thunderous silence — an entity of cruel fairness, icy anger but — what you want is a complicated thing with definite shape to your eyes but blurry to those of others. okay, i'm neither believer nor seer but here's a little prediction : the day you are satisfied is the day hellmouth shuts down upon us all and half of me prays for it. vi. about extremes — some will say grey is a better shade and though i confess it does have its charms, it still has to paint me a picture more striking than a soul with adamentine purpose. see — i stare as you pass by, terrific in beauty beautiful in hardness and off — goes my heart, sanity, ego and shirt.
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116
I. The colours drain out, What stayed behind was black and white Nothing in between, the two extremes, Purity of white, darkness of black, The two pure shades. Of all the things I saw in their vision, Nothing perfectly seemed right in place. I forgot that nothing here was so extreme, No one or thing was a whole of black or white, That the world is but a shade of grey. II. Those people brought in a sense of belonging to me, And in them I see colour again, The reds of love and hate, The blues of peace and sadness, The greens of pleasantness and riches, The yellows of brightness and smiles. The white and the black influenced now my perception of it, With the pleasant mixes of the colours themselves, And under the blue sky and the brown earth, I see the world as an ever evolving piece of art.
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Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 8:02 PM UTC
In Between (Part. 1 & Part. 2)
To my beloved father who's no longer with us; I wish you were here to see me now. I'm the little girl in a grown up body who grew up to be a woman you can be proud of. I miss you dearly my beloved father who gets half of the credit for my being on this earth. I've a great appreciation of your patient and learned words; I followed in your foot steps. Feel blue at times because you left before I had the chance to tell you how much I love you. We both know you're looking down and rooting for me as I experience parenting first hand. I know your job wasn't easy and I understood when you said no; it was with good reason. But that little girl in me often wishes you were still here for that occasional heart to heart. Miss you and always be grateful and never forget what you taught through great example. Never "ever" saying, "Do as I say kid, but turn blind eyes away from Dad's bad actions". I'll always be thankful for you showing me integrity in words that mirrored your actions. I'm grateful you allowed me to make mistakes and gently guided me with your wisdom. From you I learned; No matter how much life pushes you to extremes, you keep fighting. From you I learned; Love and respect of life even when faced with hate born from illogic. From you I learned; Love self enough to set free all that damages physically & emotionally. From you I learned; To proudly stand alone when necessary, never to cower; face my fears. Though your life on this planet was cut short, what you taught will last infinite life times. You were the kind of dad everyone loved and admired; you brought joy by your presence. There are so many things I vividly remember about you and shared with my own children You worked extremely hard to provide for us and showed Nothing worthwhile is ever easy Happy Father's Day 2013 to my beloved father and all dads every where!
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Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 8:39 AM UTC
To My Beloved Dad
To my beloved father who's no longer with us; I wish you were here to see me now. I'm the little girl in a grown up body who grew up to be a woman you can be proud of. I miss you dearly my beloved father who gets half of the credit for my being on this earth. I've a great appreciation of your patient and learned words; I followed in your foot steps. Feel blue at times because you left before I had the chance to tell you how much I love you. We both know you're looking down and rooting for me as I experience parenting first hand. I know your job wasn't easy and I understood when you said no; it was with good reason. But that little girl in me often wishes you were still here for that occasional heart to heart. Miss you and always be grateful and never forget what you taught through great example. Never "ever" saying, "Do as I say kid, but turn blind eyes away from Dad's bad actions". I'll always be thankful for you showing me integrity in words that mirrored your actions. I'm grateful you allowed me to make mistakes and gently guided me with your wisdom. From you I learned; No matter how much life pushes you to extremes, you keep fighting. From you I learned; Love and respect of life even when faced with hate born from illogic. From you I learned; Love self enough to set free all that damages physically & emotionally. From you I learned; To proudly stand alone when necessary, never to cower; face my fears. Though your life on this planet was cut short, what you taught will last infinite life times. You were the kind of dad everyone loved and admired; you brought joy by your presence. There are so many things I vividly remember about you and shared with my own children You worked extremely hard to provide for us and showed Nothing worthwhile is ever easy Happy Father's Day 2013 to my beloved father and all dads every where!
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22
You pose and pout, Seduction by superficial sauciness. You tell me of your day With that simpering voice, Raising each last word Long and loud. You show me your flash cars, Your sumptuous wardrobe And who knows what else? You and your kin call yourselves “Influencers” – A great word, But all you do is make people: People who have grafted long and hard For a little spare cash, Go buy things they Do not really need. Right Said Fred was Right: The global catwalk Is a sham. I too would love to be an “Influencer”, Such a fine word, But I would be one to encourage folk To Love others, Stop all this Conflict Between polar opposites and extremes, Fight only for the Common Good, And make the world a better place For All. Paul Butters © PB 15\1\2021.
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Jan 15, 2021
Jan 15, 2021 at 5:21 PM UTC
Influencer
*Oh lustrous orb of silver light how we have missed thy glow. Cloudy skies for weeks have veiled thy brilliance from below. But tonight I see thy face.   Once more as in the past I bask in moonlight watching shadows play upon the grass. We welcome thee with open hearts and offer thy our praise. How strange that you've returned to us in this., thy fullest phase. Tonight, we sleep neath magic light within the lunar womb, Without the thunder shaking window panes in every room. The first days of the month is fair and Luna is as well. Let us pray extremes are gone and have a "magical" spell.*
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Sep 5, 2017
Sep 5, 2017 at 8:16 AM UTC
Oh Lustrous Orb
I love in extremes, And I love you too much. There is all of me, And then there is all of me. I love you with all that I am, And with all that I have, And I love you too much, But I'd rather love you too much, Than not at all. Because I either love and care With every part of me, Or I don't seem to care for caring At all. I love you too much, But I love you so much, That too much is okay. And you're the light That makes my heart so bright, And maybe I love you too much, But if I give you all of me, Will you gladly accept? It's a risk I am more Than willing To take. Settle roots Inside my heart, And call it home. I love you too much, Can we watch our roots grow? Your smile and care Planted a seed within me, And now I sit among the branches Of the tree it has become, Swinging my legs, Smiling at you from afar. And we've come so far, And I love you too much.
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Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 12:44 PM UTC
I love you too much
I've seen you in striped white, I've seen you in black wrap-around tops, I've seen you in stilettos, I've seen you in Fitflops. I've seen you in the bluest of days, I've seen you in the rainiest of nights, I've seen you in the face of the sun, I've seen you in the wind-full of kites. I've seen you in the trajectory of life, I've seen you stare at me with care, I've seen you in the droplets of water, I've seen you in every castle in the air. I've seen you dreaming, I've seen you back in reality, I've seen you physically Earthy, I've seen you  emotionally Mars-y, I've seen you sad and jubilant, I've seen you troubled, but kept a smile, I've seen you doubled - in poker, I've seen you gone crazily wild. I've seen you in green-blinking nails, I've seen you return my stutters, I've seen you stand tall - confident, I've seen you slouch - don't matter. I've seen you looking into empty spaces, I've seen you looking into a tasty plate, I've seen you doubt yourself, I've seen you believing in fate. I've seen you in the bakery, I've seen you in a factory, I've seen you in your beauty, I've seen you in your most ball-sy. I've seen you in the bus, I've seen you read, I've seen you pick up a microphone, I've seen you speaking with speed. I've seen you with a newspaper, I've seen you with an iPad, I've seen you with a t-shirt, I've seen you stylishly clad. I've seen you work hard, I've seen you studied irresponsibly, I've seen you proud, I've seen you flicker embarrassingly. I've seen you here, I've seen you there, I've seen you near, I've seen you everywhere. I've seen enough, I've seen you in extremes, I've seen you thorough, I've seen you in teams. I've seen you verily, I've seen you truly, I've seen so much inspiration, I've seen you guilty. I've seen "I've seen" 58 times, I've seen you more than that few. But I would've seen nothing more, If I've seen none of you.
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Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 4:56 AM UTC
I've seen you in the 60s
I've seen you in striped white, I've seen you in black wrap-around tops, I've seen you in stilettos, I've seen you in Fitflops. I've seen you in the bluest of days, I've seen you in the rainiest of nights, I've seen you in the face of the sun, I've seen you in the wind-full of kites. I've seen you in the trajectory of life, I've seen you stare at me with care, I've seen you in the droplets of water, I've seen you in every castle in the air. I've seen you dreaming, I've seen you back in reality, I've seen you physically Earthy, I've seen you  emotionally Mars-y, I've seen you sad and jubilant, I've seen you troubled, but kept a smile, I've seen you doubled - in poker, I've seen you gone crazily wild. I've seen you in green-blinking nails, I've seen you return my stutters, I've seen you stand tall - confident, I've seen you slouch - don't matter. I've seen you looking into empty spaces, I've seen you looking into a tasty plate, I've seen you doubt yourself, I've seen you believing in fate. I've seen you in the bakery, I've seen you in a factory, I've seen you in your beauty, I've seen you in your most ball-sy. I've seen you in the bus, I've seen you read, I've seen you pick up a microphone, I've seen you speaking with speed. I've seen you with a newspaper, I've seen you with an iPad, I've seen you with a t-shirt, I've seen you stylishly clad. I've seen you work hard, I've seen you studied irresponsibly, I've seen you proud, I've seen you flicker embarrassingly. I've seen you here, I've seen you there, I've seen you near, I've seen you everywhere. I've seen enough, I've seen you in extremes, I've seen you thorough, I've seen you in teams. I've seen you verily, I've seen you truly, I've seen so much inspiration, I've seen you guilty. I've seen "I've seen" 58 times, I've seen you more than that few. But I would've seen nothing more, If I've seen none of you.
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60
i guess it was sort of ironic as it's a place where people to go to be treated that they couldn't properly take care of a plant. it may not have been their fault, but it was odd to see shriveled up leaves on top of the *** full of dirt, and a bamboo stick pointing up to give direction to what was no longer there. the *** itself was colorful, adorned in hues of red and blue to give hints toward the life that was once there, and maybe that's what i do for myself. i adorn myself in hues of purple, green, blue to imply a liveliness that i no longer feel deep within. to cover up an emptiness that once held some form of life, some form of happiness and innocence. it's not like i've had it hard, i mean, things haven't been absolutely bright and sunny but i haven't experienced great loss but somehow i have lost myself. it's an odd feeling, because i know i will be okay and that everything will turn out just fine but i can't believe that in my heart and i just can't feel okay. and maybe that's fine. it's healthier to express an emotion than to cover it up and hide it, because it will build upon itself until you can no longer withstand the weight and oh, god, i know how it feels to tremble and crumble underneath the weight of unfelt emotions. but is this better? i look to extremes to cure the numbness in my chest and i can't care if it's good for me or not.
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Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 9:27 PM UTC
a dying plant in the doctor's office
*One must admit the soul searches high and wide for others to see as sorrow weeps, small happiness creeps remorse is afloat, in our silk coat emptiness appears, silence leers fading shadow, is falling far below Begging forgiveness, with lots of emptiness, it seems............ Cemented dreams, gone to extremes Song of despair, not knowing who cares Tears grabbing, hands jabbing Wisps of cries, light up the sky.... Soul searches but disappearing cries please help, Holding lifeless, so breathless Sobs of redemption, seize upon preemption Full fledged devastation, marks no exemption Temptress aching, no remaking...... Soul Searching Indeed!* Debbie Brooks 2014
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Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 10:22 AM UTC
Soul Searching
If only we could begin again and slow down the pernicious pace We ruin our oceans, the land, our air even outer space. If only we avoided such precarious paths that may lead to disparity If only we knew what action is needed now, to deal with the reality. Ecologists warned, yet still observe with ever-growing anxiety the growth of harmful long-term effects on Earth's biodiversity. If only the air wasn't gravely polluted, so the atmosphere begins to fail, so wreathed by carbon dioxide layers, extremes to climate may prevail. If only Earth's lungs cease being shrunk by profits heedless exploitation, existing relationships are considered scarcely in these aberrations. If only a solution for discarded synthetics which float in ugly hordes on oceans global drifts, disaster occurs wherever it reaches landfall. If only we can do something, a belated but resounding universal call, If only we can safeguard the future before there are no options at all. If only we could begin again and slow the ruinous pace... if only If Only M C Crowder @scorsby 19th November 2018
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Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 12:00 PM UTC
If Only
OLD HOUSE They retain precious memories, intimate feelings of inhabitants passing through its sagging doors. Romantic are seekers of forgotten times memories encased in hard wood floors; as lath plastered walls ooze remnants of a history while we; when inclined listen. We don't go very often, to abandon houses, perhaps on a dare, or at Halloween. Are we passed enjoying extremes into this another world, musty energy a curious child. That was the yesterday which now waits behind musty, dusty, derelict halls. I stand I stand at paint chipped banister, a faded worn carpet once carried dancing feet, children playing before they sleep. The broken coat tree on the floor. From the third floor murmuring, a wind storm jars loose fears, of time once lost to dreams. Echos billow from each room, curtains hanging yellowed by a sun where dancing light through holes in damask lace. Mice gremlin's artful droppings, tracks of nature on dirt strewn floor. Broken shards from window panes, confetti after New Years day. Branches scratched etched paths, tracks like graffiti on sill its unread words, a glif eerily cast shadows trigger echos from the past. Jagged memories protrude from every corner mixing with new, enriching our fantasies bringing us closer renewed; these musty memories long forgotten. Like waves rushing back; flooding a mind like broken dikes they crash into our world, Rembrandt's paintings on canvas fading. Silent footsteps outside a door, we hear laughter from bedroom walls; a smell a whiff of hot butter *** silent conversation coming our way. Old Doc Masters listened at my chest, as I read all by candle light, Sherlock detective stories or the Tell Tale Heart of Poe or Othello; all masters in the past. A Grandfather clock stands silent, keeping time, lost its tick yet still striking, it stands tall, upon a clueless floor. Knowledge lost to a past in a house so worn, births, deaths, wars, wrapped forgotten, encased by neglect, I visited a house besotted, neglected waiting to be remodeled into another century moving it to present times. Ajerry Archival Jan 5, 2011
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Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 2:46 PM UTC
Memories of an Old Houses
OLD HOUSE They retain precious memories, intimate feelings of inhabitants passing through its sagging doors. Romantic are seekers of forgotten times memories encased in hard wood floors; as lath plastered walls ooze remnants of a history while we; when inclined listen. We don't go very often, to abandon houses, perhaps on a dare, or at Halloween. Are we passed enjoying extremes into this another world, musty energy a curious child. That was the yesterday which now waits behind musty, dusty, derelict halls. I stand I stand at paint chipped banister, a faded worn carpet once carried dancing feet, children playing before they sleep. The broken coat tree on the floor. From the third floor murmuring, a wind storm jars loose fears, of time once lost to dreams. Echos billow from each room, curtains hanging yellowed by a sun where dancing light through holes in damask lace. Mice gremlin's artful droppings, tracks of nature on dirt strewn floor. Broken shards from window panes, confetti after New Years day. Branches scratched etched paths, tracks like graffiti on sill its unread words, a glif eerily cast shadows trigger echos from the past. Jagged memories protrude from every corner mixing with new, enriching our fantasies bringing us closer renewed; these musty memories long forgotten. Like waves rushing back; flooding a mind like broken dikes they crash into our world, Rembrandt's paintings on canvas fading. Silent footsteps outside a door, we hear laughter from bedroom walls; a smell a whiff of hot butter *** silent conversation coming our way. Old Doc Masters listened at my chest, as I read all by candle light, Sherlock detective stories or the Tell Tale Heart of Poe or Othello; all masters in the past. A Grandfather clock stands silent, keeping time, lost its tick yet still striking, it stands tall, upon a clueless floor. Knowledge lost to a past in a house so worn, births, deaths, wars, wrapped forgotten, encased by neglect, I visited a house besotted, neglected waiting to be remodeled into another century moving it to present times. Ajerry Archival Jan 5, 2011
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65
It's hard to extol the merits of mankind and to lavish excessive praise is insane; recognize the gamut of vain emotion and treatment of our brothers that's inhumane. The natural nature of man is hardly good - Proof is found in our vocabulary; despite incredible accomplishments of this world, poor relationships of man to extremes are still carried. Our literature and news is littered with ugly views of crime and hate. For brief review of the damage perpetuated, let's take time to reiterate. There's slavery, ****** ****** torture, greed, **** hatred, genocide, racism, bigotry, fear, starvation, thievery, lasciviousness and terrorism. Uncaring predators have always existed, unable to overcome the evil within. Such conditions show our need for a loving God, to triumph over the presence and affects of sin. Author Note: From my book: Reaching Towards His Unbounded Glory The ISBN is: 1-4196-5051-3 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
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May 17, 2012
May 17, 2012 at 11:32 AM UTC
Poem: Human Behavior
6/16 it could be good feeling in extremes when positive emotions surface. unfortunately, my intense emotion is easily influenced and on this planet everything good dies quickly i wish i was good
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Aug 7, 2017
Aug 7, 2017 at 7:11 PM UTC
bpd pt. 2
The truth is, I’m not really sure who I am. She told us to draw ourselves and then to draw our souls; so I drew my face scratched and uneven, just as I’ve always seen it, and frowned at the result both in the mirror and on the paper. The only soul I’ve ever really known was the one that shone through the strokes of the keys I punched, the scrawling of ink on paper in mismatched arrays of awkward thoughts, disorientated and unorganized, shaded different spews of emotion and rearranged through the lens of ever last viewer’s eye. Even so, this soul that is composed of words that defined me painted a picture vivid in its contrast, though blurry from both afar and close enough to squint, no details able to be made out. These words that have wrapped around my soul rubbed raw from the time my skin first flinched at the cool March air cannot be deciphered by their author, though I know somehow that their letters flowing into one another say more than any curve of my face ever could. These words are black and white, two extremes crafted in the pallet of the Universe’s toolshed, and perhaps that’s exactly what I am. Black or white. I’m dark and lost and scrounging for some rusting wall or tree branch to cling to as to ensure the shimmering waves, onyx and charcoal in their nature with the flow of blood in its spine, do not flood into my mouth at a rate in which is too quick to balance myself upon them, or, I’m white, drifting snow from a cloud scraping the vast expanse of brilliant blue gazing as a sky above all the world, pure, innocent, unscathed with the potential for creation in vibrancies yet unknown, or to be ripped to bits, scattered amongst piles of cream and autumn leaves drained of their color beneath months of shivering frost. And so, perhaps any physical representation of my being would be all wrong, because that’s not what I am. Myself, my soul, it resides in the murky depths of heights I’ve yet to discover, tethered endlessly and uncertain among the caverns of my inners, pink and mushy, stirred and ****** untouched from the harsh light of a world encased in brevity.
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Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 8:20 PM UTC
I'll Glue This To The Drawing Of My Face
The truth is, I’m not really sure who I am. She told us to draw ourselves and then to draw our souls; so I drew my face scratched and uneven, just as I’ve always seen it, and frowned at the result both in the mirror and on the paper. The only soul I’ve ever really known was the one that shone through the strokes of the keys I punched, the scrawling of ink on paper in mismatched arrays of awkward thoughts, disorientated and unorganized, shaded different spews of emotion and rearranged through the lens of ever last viewer’s eye. Even so, this soul that is composed of words that defined me painted a picture vivid in its contrast, though blurry from both afar and close enough to squint, no details able to be made out. These words that have wrapped around my soul rubbed raw from the time my skin first flinched at the cool March air cannot be deciphered by their author, though I know somehow that their letters flowing into one another say more than any curve of my face ever could. These words are black and white, two extremes crafted in the pallet of the Universe’s toolshed, and perhaps that’s exactly what I am. Black or white. I’m dark and lost and scrounging for some rusting wall or tree branch to cling to as to ensure the shimmering waves, onyx and charcoal in their nature with the flow of blood in its spine, do not flood into my mouth at a rate in which is too quick to balance myself upon them, or, I’m white, drifting snow from a cloud scraping the vast expanse of brilliant blue gazing as a sky above all the world, pure, innocent, unscathed with the potential for creation in vibrancies yet unknown, or to be ripped to bits, scattered amongst piles of cream and autumn leaves drained of their color beneath months of shivering frost. And so, perhaps any physical representation of my being would be all wrong, because that’s not what I am. Myself, my soul, it resides in the murky depths of heights I’ve yet to discover, tethered endlessly and uncertain among the caverns of my inners, pink and mushy, stirred and ****** untouched from the harsh light of a world encased in brevity.
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1
If only you could understand the power of your dreams - or the strength you truly have cause life's sorrows are mere extremes. Reach for the sky, chase the wind, fly away - be free don't let yourself end. Here you are a beautiful soul you can hold all that you could ever want or need just don't be so blue. Dry those tears, smile a lot, you'll be O.K. give life a shot. For if you don't open your eyes you'll never know all things must come to an end, if they don't you're the dream to Bust. Pop! ....Pop! ..........POP! There go another poor soul's hopes dreams, and wishes... Hold on to yourself -don't end up ............like that...........
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Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 5:50 PM UTC
Bubbles of All Things Beautiful
You are no longer young, Nor are you very old. There are homes where those belong. You know you do not fit When you observe the cold Stares of those who sit In bath-chairs or the park (A stick, then, at their side) Or find yourself in the dark And see the lovers who, In love and in their stride, Don't even notice you. This is a time to begin Your life. It could be new. The sheer not fitting in With the old who envy you And the young who want to win, Not knowing false from true, Means you have liberty Denied to their extremes. At last now you can be What the old cannot recall And the young long for in dreams, Yet still include them all.
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3.9k
Accepted
Maybe my writing Will improve When strewn over Blue lined graph paper, Tiny boxes, Coaxing out order, Perhaps even Clarifying boundaries Between crazed truth, And detrimental lies. The grid putting Poem in context, Poem like graph, Displaying Levels of THC Depression Number of Kisses Tears Cried Outliers of secrets uttered. Box and whisker plot Displaying anxiety, Skewed data toward extremes. No. Linear writing would Reveal the chaos inside. I can't fit the poems To the squares. A graph can't really cry The way a person can. There's a losing feeling Etched in pen On a harshly graded Parcel of mathematical quizzing That a poem has no place to Instill in me. And no one would Be able to read my work The way they tell you to show it. My poems have no color coding. Definition between data Becomes hazy as Layers of black are added In empty, All encompassing anger. And I smoke while I write tonight, Haze growing, Lines wobbled, And I may have put a poem On a piece of graph paper But it's nothing like the math homework That stays in my backpack.
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Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 12:10 PM UTC
On Graph Paper
I only ask of you to aim for balance. No one, not even yourself, is expecting you to fall into another category of extremes. In life we have more than the black and white. I don’t just want you to see the grey, but the kaleidoscope of colors this beautiful world has to offer.
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Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 1:26 PM UTC
Kaleidoscope
Put 'Goodness' of a good man on test. In moderate clime it might appear best. Examine the 'Goodness' in extremes. It will be different from what it seems. Leave 'Goodness' under the desert sun. To help 'Goodness' there should be none. With magnifying glass check its sphere. Cracks and fissures are sure to appear. Now place 'Goodness' on mountaintop. Keep it in position with the help of prop. Leave it in Bone-chilling cold and depart. Within days it will crumble and fall apart.
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Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 10:45 PM UTC
Test Of 'Goodness'
darling let us fill our lungs with corruptive smoke and descend into delirium so we may appreciate the moments when our breaths consist of purely air let us drown our stomachs with poison so we may savor the potent mix of acid and alcohol searing our throats and numbing our skin let us sink our teeth into the ripe flesh of the forbidden fruit and swallow the pit while we´re at it let us drink to forget and kiss like careless strangers as we bury ourselves under bodies so we may feel something other than the weight of the world let us dance beneath a storm not of rain but of blood spilling out of open wrists with mouths gaping and hearts shattered let us relish these blurred eyes and hazy memories as our hands touch but do not meet let us hold each other too tight skin bleeding into skin nail marks freckling your back i can no longer hear the music so let us sing our beautiful lies take my hand and let us run through grayed streets with reckless abandon and as we go we can pick the roses allowing their thorns to imprint new scars between our fingertips let us tear the feathers from a white dove so we may weave ourselves wings to fly to touch the sun and steal icarus´ name let us ignore our ambitions and explore extremes together let us shatter our expectations and as two beings collide let us breathe each other in and indulge as if it were our last moment on earth darling let us taste death together x.
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Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 2:53 AM UTC
lust for life, taste death
Bakit ang umaga'y salaming nagniningning At ang aking gabi'y sineng walang tabing? Bakit ang magdamag ay tila araw mandin Na kung di masilip ay tila kulang pa rin? Sa oras na laging kita'y maalala Balintataw manding anyo mo'y makita; Ngiti ng puso ko'y anghel ang kapara Dala ng pagsuyong ikaw ang may likha. Di man naglalayag ang anyo kong lugod Naglalakbay naman sa aking pagtulog; Diwa at puso ko'y nawalan ng takot Laging ako't ikaw yaong nasasangkot. Saang mundo kayang di ka mamamasdan? Wala nga sapagkat tanging ikaw lamang; Takbo ng panaho'y di namamalayan Basta't laging ikaw itong kaulayaw. Daigdig mang ito'y tuksong kumakaway Kung tayong dalawa'y landas na makulay; Musika ng puso ay aalingawngaw Mundo'y paraisong doo'y laging ikaw! English Version: You Will Always Be There Oh, why each morning is like a bright looking glass And my night's like a theater without a curtain? Tell me why an overnight seems like a new day That when I can't see you, life seems so uncertain? Each moment that I cannot see you, my dearest Even your shadow is always enough for me My heart always smile like that of an angel's beam Brought by this precious love only I could see. Though I couldn't reach you with these frail arms and hands I can still touch you, my dear, in my cherished dreams My mind and my heart, they were strong, I'm not afraid Only you and I, we can get through the extremes. In what kind of world does this heart couldn't see you If there's only one image in these eyes of mine? Our time is running fast and yet we cannot feel When you're here beside me, I will always be fine. If this world of ours is a waving temptation It would still be a bright path when we truly care Rhythm of our hearts will echo and resonate A place is paradise where you'll always be there!
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May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 11:39 AM UTC
DOO'Y LAGING IKAW (You Will Always Be There)
Bakit ang umaga'y salaming nagniningning At ang aking gabi'y sineng walang tabing? Bakit ang magdamag ay tila araw mandin Na kung di masilip ay tila kulang pa rin? Sa oras na laging kita'y maalala Balintataw manding anyo mo'y makita; Ngiti ng puso ko'y anghel ang kapara Dala ng pagsuyong ikaw ang may likha. Di man naglalayag ang anyo kong lugod Naglalakbay naman sa aking pagtulog; Diwa at puso ko'y nawalan ng takot Laging ako't ikaw yaong nasasangkot. Saang mundo kayang di ka mamamasdan? Wala nga sapagkat tanging ikaw lamang; Takbo ng panaho'y di namamalayan Basta't laging ikaw itong kaulayaw. Daigdig mang ito'y tuksong kumakaway Kung tayong dalawa'y landas na makulay; Musika ng puso ay aalingawngaw Mundo'y paraisong doo'y laging ikaw! English Version: You Will Always Be There Oh, why each morning is like a bright looking glass And my night's like a theater without a curtain? Tell me why an overnight seems like a new day That when I can't see you, life seems so uncertain? Each moment that I cannot see you, my dearest Even your shadow is always enough for me My heart always smile like that of an angel's beam Brought by this precious love only I could see. Though I couldn't reach you with these frail arms and hands I can still touch you, my dear, in my cherished dreams My mind and my heart, they were strong, I'm not afraid Only you and I, we can get through the extremes. In what kind of world does this heart couldn't see you If there's only one image in these eyes of mine? Our time is running fast and yet we cannot feel When you're here beside me, I will always be fine. If this world of ours is a waving temptation It would still be a bright path when we truly care Rhythm of our hearts will echo and resonate A place is paradise where you'll always be there!
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