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JayceeJellies Nov 2014
I'm sorry,
I've done it again.
I'm sorry,
It still hurts deep within.
I'm sorry,
I only do it to know that I'm alive.
I'm sorry,
I know how you feel inside.
I'm sorry,
I have a scar to hide.
I'm sorry,
I failed you that night.
Peter Balkus Aug 2018
Maybe
someone created us
and then
- having realized that we were imperfect -
abandoned, left.

Maybe we are nothing, but
a failed plan of a perfect world,
a faulty universe,
which nobody cares
about.
Purcy Flaherty Nov 2018
You came to me like a fairytale,
I held you close;
I looked into your eyes,
they were deep and full of soul; chancing fate.
I kissed your neck and shoulders,
your belly and your ***,
We took each others bodys and tasted freedom.
~
I couldn't help feeling this was:
"your one and only"
A secret that you'll keep to your self ~
"A happy thought!"
Secure in the knowledge that you were once utterly cherished;
And that you alone chose martyrdom; rather than embracing change.
choosing martyrdom and brutal familiarity rather than embracing change.
Alyssa Underwood Jul 2016
It is out of the heart’s cavernous longing and furious search
for love, significance, acceptance, approval, identity, security,
freedom, belonging, innocence, intimacy and transcendence—
out of its primordial memory of what was lost to us in the Garden—
that we begin to ***** idols for ourselves.

Unconsciously we hope they might restore to us a taste of paradise,
taking away our fear and shame and isolation.
We yearn to go back but, alas, we cannot get in from there.
We ache to connect to beauty, to be desired by it as much as we desire it,
and Jesus is the only door by which we may enter.
He is the Beauty, and all the rest are simply there like pealing bells
to arouse our hearts to Him and tell us that He is coming for us.

Still, as if we haven’t quite yet heard and believed the message, we keep
aimlessly trying to forge a false righteousness through our false gods.
When they are lost or the dreams of them unrealized we are devastated,
for the shadows, echoes and reflections we had supposed would finally
make us feel good about ourselves have been exposed as frauds,
and once again we are left to feel naked but without fig leaves to cover us.

It is at these precise moments, when the bottom of our false hope falls out,
that we are best prepared to encounter Christ in His intimate
fullness and most apt to recognize at last that He alone is
everything we have been so desperately wanting.
It is our boiling point, where the unbearable weight
of failed expectation so crashes in on us that we are finally
begging God to lift our idols off of us and deliver us from them,
pleading with Him to come and capture us,
crying out to Him to possess us fully.
~~~
fearfulpoet Jul 2018
“only” the lonely know (my special sign)

{=}

an incurable silence

the meaningless, wasted touch of a hand,
attached, directed by them from them
to them
a failed reassurance

a classroom, a stadium, cornfield or grove,
so many nutted fallen solitaries fallen to rot
midst a globe of trillions never noticed,
never missed

the silly conceptual that the lonely,
special unique, blessed with a curse,
a specialist status, “only” they afflicted;
with a ken that isolates and yet feels elevated -
oh! I am special

show me one, just one, human who doesn’t truly believe,
they are the onliest loneliest and you will vision
each and every
lonely person who
secret sighs and whose first thoughts are only:

god spare me one more day of being,
fearful of achieving
my very own knowing,
in the invisible place,
the incurable silence award,
reward of another purple heart,
“only” the lonely service ribbon,
my Cain marker

~my special sign~
WOW

what a wonderful reception to my first poem!

thank you,
less fearful!
MARGA Jun 2018
your precious smile,
that never failed to shine;
a heaven-sent beam,
that made my heart your realm.

2. your tenderness,
that gave me bliss;
how could someone be
like you, so dearly?

3. your good vibes,
that surpassed all tribes
in giving off the positivity
i need for my stubborn reality.

4. your talents,
that awakened everyone's hearts;
you are my significant inspiration,
you give life to my life's ambition.

5. your humility,
that's filled with sincerity.
while everyone else is toplofty,
you remained lowly.
not everyone as wonderful as you,
could show meekness too.

6. the happiness you shared,
at times when smiling is something
i never dared;
darling, it meant everything.

7. for your meaningful silence,
that gave me a better comprehension.
although your stillness was tense,
i knew in my heart it was never a rejection.

8. for your music,
that never halts to flourish.
music, your depiction of aesthetic;
through you, the melody will never tarnish.

9. for being your genuine self,
you gave me potency to do the same.
shamming is no longer something i'll play, for you taught me how to
end that witless game.

10. for bringing me daily sunshine,
for setting the moon & the stars aligned;
my everyday became better,
and i will treasure you forever.


there are way more reasons
on why i love you for real.
through the passing seasons
i could slowly & slowly reveal
and show you how i truly feel.
as time passes us by,
i would no longer hesitate
and keep my sentiments ensconced.
through the coming weeks, months and years,
as long as we have all the time
i would dauntlessly lay out to you
that the way i feel for you is true.
written with whole heart for my dearest .
//
let me tell you
that i am true
ㅡ and i always will be.
Johnny walker Nov 2018
My dream and wishes
outweigh my regrets
they are few, dreams
and wishes
plentiful
Wish you were here
right now, to be again
as we once were, you
my darling went
away
But not through choice
did you go away, that
was a decision made
without you
knowing
I admit It was I your
loving husband along
with your Doctor who
made the decision to set
you free of all your
suffering
It was with a heavy heart
I watched you go
nurse slowly turning your
breathing ventilator
down
Still fresh In my mind the
last time I saw Helen
alive I had just helped nurse
get her settled for
night
I waved said going outside
for cig back In a minute I
told, but the nurse took me aside
advised me to go for a
sleep
They awoke me, but too late
by the time I reached Helen
my darling had gone
something I can't live
down
So Is my biggest regret to that
I can't put right, 3 days and nights
I'd been at her side, nursed
her Helped with her pain never
left her side she should
been In my
arms

I AM THE UNFORGIVEN




.
Can't forgive myself no matter
what anyone tells me I should
been there for her
No excuse
CK Baker Mar 2017
fischers rap
on a hot tin roof
bristol creek pools
over rock and seed
english wolfhound (and the barkbuster)
stroll pine lane
vibrant colors
of a cool spring
in cob yellow and
forest green

field mice squander
in cotton wind
goats and ferret
hold seven hour trim
raven and ****
meddle and forage (on a splendid fiaker goulash!)
crickets and frogs
hidden
in swollen grey logs

creepers fill the
cut stone walls
coy wolf high
on a frayed white rope
eagles perched
at trudy’s bend
catamounts laze
on a snow base cedar
(pared arbutus bent  
through a failed ground rock)

brush spider spins
a timely web
brown bears fumble
at the spirit jamboree
quizzical squirrels
crack their nuts
as pillow clouds float
over telegraph trail

12 point dances
on talus and scree
hen hawks float
in a big hard sun
clydesdale and coach
trot copper smith road
(glancing down
on finch and the warbler
whistling through
colander row)

lavender fills
the peat soil box
mountain cats
guard the heavenly gates
black eyed ridge
is wide and open
the country squire hails
this fruitful land
Cindra Carr Jul 2011
She broke my heart again
It failed as she skipped out of reach
It’s okay
Little things can go unnoticed
How big can a heart really be?
She gave it a kick as she stumbled over it
That paled in comparison when she stepped on it
I gift wrapped my heart
I even sang a little tune as I tied the bow
She had that look though
A little moue of surprise and a stutter
My heart dropped and I leaned back
Bracing myself always feels like it should help
But, then she broke it
Kicked it
Stepped on it
Scuffed it for sure
It got a little blurry
I knew as soon as she said
“We can still be friends right?”

cc062911
September Roses May 2018
We are tied together by our stories, our history
Tales woven through our ancestry, when our parents talk of their younger days,
When their life was ahead of them,
the future was anything and everything,
they speak of their old friends with ache in their soul,
Of times when their hearts were filled with fire and passion,
running through fields growing memories  planted by the world around them
When they could sprint the wind in their hair,
adventure ahead,
hope in their heart.
They speak of the days behind with woe
Because essentially just their ideas of the future as a young mind, were more enticing than reality.
As dreams failed and hope faded
As their minds wear
and their treasured stories that made them who they are fog over
As threads begin to wear
As tales they once yelled to the world with pride fray at the ends
Your whole world slipping away as the thread unwinds
But they get the joy of passing down the tapestry to their pride and joy,
to the life they made,
Every moment we live with ease of no appreciation for every experience every laugh
Moments we take for granted
Moments we will pine for when they run out
Moments the elderly urge us with fire to cherish
Moments we'll wish we listened about
There is a vast tapestry of memories behind you and infinite thread panning out in front of you, connecting to other tapestries,
visiting at friends,
at enemies,
joining with soul-mates future.
Some cut away,
some ripped from the tapestries too soon before they could weave their own.
A loose thread cannot be fixed once more are made,
and the patterns will never be what you want them to be, savour each stitch
Take time on every thread
You don't want to be sitting there 50 years old thinking about the life you wasted
About the memories faded,
About how every slipping memory's never like the moment you made it.
Don't be sitting 90 filled with regret
Filled with hatred for every opportunity you left
Screaming into the void about how much you hate what your life become.
because they say time flys when your having fun truth is time only flies when you're young.
The clock Is already ticking on the countdown but will there be time enough for this planet to save  Itself from pollution and destruction we've had
caused
But Is It too late to stop the clock that's been ticking since the beginning of  time or Is
to late what we
have
done to these planets now sad life which was to be our children Inheritance but let's face It what are we leaving them If anything at
all
Man call It to progress I would call It progressing even quicker towards certain doom for us
all
We have gifted this planet to look after and we have completely failed In every aspect of Its care and Inevitably we have failed
with devastating effect on our environment and caused
the Green House
effect
on our climate we no longer have the four seasons It's whatever nature decides to throw at us and seems to be much worse
man will have a lot to answer to at the end days those days are closing
fast
Man has a lot to answer too
at the end of days for It lotal
lack of care of this world we
were left to care for we have failed with deverstating
effects on our planet
Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
It is out of the heart’s cavernous longing and furious search
for love, significance, acceptance, approval, identity, security,
freedom, belonging, innocence, intimacy and transcendence—
out of its primordial memory of what was lost to us in the Garden—
that we begin to ***** idols for ourselves.

Unconsciously we hope they might restore to us a taste of paradise,
taking away our fear and shame and isolation.
We yearn to go back but, alas, we cannot get in from there.
We ache to connect to beauty, to be desired by it as much as we desire it,
and Jesus is the only door by which we may enter.
He is the Beauty, and all the rest are simply there like pealing bells
to arouse our hearts to Him and tell us that He is coming for us.

Still, as if we haven’t quite yet heard and believed the message, we keep
aimlessly trying to forge a false righteousness through our false gods.
When they are lost or the dreams of them unrealized we are devastated,
for the shadows, echoes and reflections we had supposed would finally
make us feel good about ourselves have been exposed as frauds,
and once again we are left to feel naked but without fig leaves to cover us.

It is at these precise moments, when the bottom of our false hope falls out,
that we are best prepared to encounter Christ in His intimate fullness
and most apt to recognize at last that He alone is everything
we have been so desperately wanting.
It is our boiling point, where the unbearable weight
of failed expectation so crashes in on us that we are finally
begging God to lift our idols off of us and deliver us from them,
pleading with Him to come and capture us,
crying out to Him to possess us fully.
~~~
Johnny walker Nov 2018
My dream and wishes
outweigh my regrets
they are few, dreams
and wishes
plentiful
Wish you were here
right now, to be again
as we once were, you
my darling went
away
But not through choice
did you go away, that
was a decision made
without you
knowing
I admit It was I your
loving husband along
with your Doctor who
made the decision to set
you free of all your
suffering
It was with a heavy heart
I watched you go through
Shorting of breath
nurses slowly turning your
breathing ventilator
down
Still fresh In my mind the
the time I saw Helen last
alive I had just helped nurse
get Helen settled for
night
I waved said going outside
for cig back In a minute I
told her but the nurse took me aside
advised me to go for a
sleep
They awoke me, but too late
by the time I reached Helen
my darling had gone
something I can't live
down
So Is my biggest regret to that
I can't put right, 3 days and night
I'd been at her side, nursed
her Helped with her pain never
left her side, she should
died In my
arms

I AM THE UNFORGIVEN




.
Can't forgive myself no matter
what anyone tells me I should
been there for her
No excuse
midnight Aug 2018
"Envision yourself working on your own office."
"Envision yourself writing prescriptions for your patients."
"Envision yourself receiving a huge amount of money."
"Envision yours-"

She stopped mid-sentence and looked at me.

"I want you to dream high, my dear."

"Mom, I want to become a writer."
"No, being a doctor is better."
"But mom, I want to study literature, I want to publish b-"
"I said no."

Mom,
I know you wanted to become a doctor way back then  
but mom,
I have my own dreams too.

I can't imagine myself working inside hospitals
I can't imagine myself writing prescriptions
I can't imagine myself receiving a huge amount of money

but mom,

I can imagine myself working inside my own office,
I can imagine myself writing stories and not prescriptions
I can imagine myself starting with small amount of money
but most of all,

I can imagine myself smiling despite of these.

You told me to dream high,
and I'm sorry because
Mom, I failed.

I told myself not to dream high,
I told myself to dream deep.

I told myself to dream deep
and to plant my dream in the deepest part of my heart
make it grow
that even my heart can attest that my dream was all I ever wanted.

My dream grew deeper
And the roots grew stronger

and I can tell,
Mom, I failed to dream high.
marion Mar 2018
I keep my feelings on a leash,
locked in a cage like the perpetrators of crime.
Sometimes I take them out for walks
to test out their rarely used legs on the ground.
Only too reel them back in,
too scared to let them wander,
wander towards those who let theirs loose freely,
not caring where they step.
For I have learned that this only leads to hurt.
Stubbed toes on the curbsides called love.
Failed attempts at crossing the crosswalk,
into the depths of someones shallow, unforgiving arms.
Not paying attention to the Stop sign right next to them.
Over and over, I wish I would've noticed that sign sooner..
Before all the heartbreaks and fallen tears.
And that is why
the footwork of my heart, kept captive in the dark,
is sleeping in silence for perhaps eternity
this is the poem I used to apply for this community. not my best work, but still, I thought I should share.
One must pause but a second
Before the red curtain rises
My evocative story tells
Of innocent men women and children
Who perished screaming in bullets hail?

The perpetrators were sycophants who ravaged the earth
Slaughtering with cunning and stealth
Eliminating any who offered even the smallest resistance
For black liquid and gleaming metals

Openly touted
Their agenda was not hidden
None with valor impede their path
Fat and satisfied
The cowards dropped their dull heads
Rather than face the barbarians wrath

So continued was their brutish destruction
Though guilt their small conscience assail
Alas I disagree with Tolkien
The Courage of men has failed


Acknowledgement of “The Courage of men.”
The Return of the King…… by J.R.R. Tolkien
All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby. February 8, 2019.
the provocative dress i wore tonight

made you wonder if i wore it for you

i could feel your stare the whole night

watching as my body flowed

underneath the fluorescent lights

you noticed all my details

how i held my drink in my hand

how deep my curves were

how all the men in the club,

were doing the same as you

the one thing you all failed to notice

is what i hid underneath

you all failed to see the scar above my lip

and the fact that i chew my nails too often

and the purple galaxies that litter my skin,

under the confines of my dress
Kevin J Taylor Sep 2017
Reminding me
of my first trike

The poetry of
red and white

The poetry of
pedaled motion

Piston footed!
Vision frozen!

Head and hair
gone separate ways!

Freedom found
on Glory Days!

Down the sidewalk
runway riding!

Faster! Faster!
Out of hiding!

Faster! Faster!
Spirit! Gliding!

Faster! Faster!
Up! And free!

My body can’t
catch up with me!

Somewhere in
the days between

I left my trike in
rusty scenes

Traded life
for lesser stuff

Left the trike
and kept the rust

Until a friend
came to my door

With gamesy thoughts
that life is more

Than failed hopes
and rusty bits—

Pointing skyward!
Tag! You’re it!
.
Salto Angel dances an Aqua-Skirt
Such Fashion pleased the Tourists below
How else can the Latin earn your Fervour
But surpass your Record of height and snow?
Funny, how her Majesty can suppress
Even more when viewing up from this Point
Like a Crone who often tries to oppress
A Revolt which a Priest failed to Anoint
And lowering my Camera, I see
The many Prizes I did Hit-and-Miss
But she roared with showers raining gently
And, enough! They saw Rainbows turn to bliss.
So I sat on a Rock to watch and live
Hoping my Partner would rise to forgive.
Muse the Bobbie, Learned and Scrolling Mentor
For screening this Curtain to show our Task
Basic Words you exhume; Trust, a favour
Later allow us with some Sticks to bask
It takes much swallow to go back to School
And strip us bare with Her Majesty's Words
This how you Speak - With a Rod and a Fool
But then, who cares? Forgans are for the Birds
Now all it takes to supple your behalf
Modelled by the Mad Agent done and pleased
We empty our Fillers; and bid Avast!
Upon Graduation your Skills we take heed.
Thank you so much again, Mentor availed
Success is Reward; Laziness is Failed.
CT Wordz Feb 18
I tried not to love you,
Since the day first day we met,
I try not to love you,
I try, but forget.
I can't figure out,
If we will or if we won't.
I try not to love you,
I try to forget you,
I try to hate you,
But I know I don't.
I'm a hopeless romantic, pining a lover in my head
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