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Titanic-Lover Aug 2013
"Olympic,what was my sister like?
Did the people make her grand?"
"Yes,my darling,she was fine,
The finest in the land.
No one else was like her,
No one had her creed,
I knew within my very heart
The life that she could lead!
I sent my best of wishes to her
On a tenth of April day
She sailed away into the sun,
Nothing stood in her way.
Oh,Brittanic,my darling,
I wish that you did know
The spark of pride she sent in the air
Where'er she did go.
The air around her seemed electrically charged
With her undeniable glory
I watched from afar,
Knowing she'd make a front page story!
I felt pride within my soul
When people would stop to gaze
My sister was so beautiful and bound for happy days!"
"Olympic,why did my sister die?
Why couldn't I see her face?
We wait among happy people,
She's in a somber place."
"Brittanic,my dearest baby,
I cannot tell a lie
You must put up with this old girl,
And know that I shall cry.
I cannot think of my sister
Without my vision clouding with tears
I have been without her for so very long,
So many pain-filled years.
The day I heard that horrible truth
Will be etched forever in my heart.
The day I lost my beloved sister
With which I never wished to part.
When I received news of her sinking
I raced across the waves
Hoping I'd be able to say 'good-bye'
On her very last of days.
Oh,but I didn't get there quick enough!
I didn't have enough speed!
The Captain ordered me to give up hope,
An order I didn't want to heed!
I had raced across the blackened surf
Pressing to see how fast I could go,
Now the Captain ordered me to stop,
I hope you'll know the love I did know.
I wanted to go to that very spot
Where my sister's life did end,
A glorious lady with a glorious heart,
All ended by a word called 'sin'.
He hurt me with his ruthless order
Ceasing my propellers purpose-driven churn
My anger at him burned in my soul
I didn't want to obey a command
He was forcing me to learn!!
But,he forced me to learn
Forced me to turn away
Forced me to live without saying
"Farewell"
Forced me to return to work that day.

"Olympic,are you mad at yourself?
Upset you never could say goodbye?
Upset you left her all alone?
All alone to die?"

"Oh,Brittanic,why must you ask such things?!
Such things that tear my heart in two!
But,answer you,I will,my darling,
Answer you,I shall do.
I have tried so vainly to forgive myself,
Yet,half my heart is plunged in grief,
It wraps around my very core
Like a strangling ivy wreath.
No one gave me a kindly look,
A sympathetic word they did not say,
Such as "Fair Olympic,you did all you could
To save your dear sister that day."
But I tried! Don't they know?
I tried to save her as across that ocean I ran!
I would of said good-bye
If not halted by a foolish man!
Yet,I never got to say 'good-bye'
Never let her know,
Titanic! My treasured sister!
How I love you so!!"

"Olympic,I hope you know I love you,
E'en though your heart is sad,
Forgive yourself,my dear mother,
You did not commit any bad.
Titanic knows you love her,
She knows you tried with all of your might
When love drove you across dangerous waves
On that perilous night.
You mustn't keep hurting a heart
That has dealt with so much bad,
Forgive yourself,Olympic,
And then you may not feel so sad.
I'm sure she is not mad
At the efforts you did make
You avoided danger the best you could,
Though your life was still at stake.
You acted with such bravery
On a night devoid of moon
You did all you could in hopes
To get to her so soon.
I love you,old Olympic,
I'm not angered at your ways
Concern for one you did love
Has lasted for years and days.
I'm sure you were the perfect sister
As you are the wonderful mother to me
I feel so proud when I see you come in
From a long,weary week at sea.
When I am old and wizened  like you,
I'll remember the pleasures I have known
From a grand lady named Olympic
Who hid a heart so alone.
I love you,my beautiful friend
And I'll recall a story behind the tears
Of perservering adoration for one
That you won't see for the rest of your years.
And,I'm sure,Fair Olympic,
When it comes time you too shall die,
You will be reunited with your sister,
For your kindness never did falter,nor lie."

"Brittanic,my dearest one,
It is a reassuring thought,
I will be so glad to see her,
For love will perish not.
But,for now,I am nothing more than
For men to hurt and command
But I shall dream now
Of a far-off and distant land.
A land where my sister resides
Where she,perhaps,waits for me
On a big eternal expanse,
A grand,forever sea.
I am sure my time is coming up,
I am over 20 years old!
The humans will not want me much longer,
I am no longer eye-catching and bold.
Twenty years old and over is not a lot,
For me,my life did really now just begin
But the humans will not want me much longer
They will make my life end.
I am no longer the fashionable steamer
That people clamor to take
I am 50,000 tons of steel
One day that the ship-yard shall break.
That is our future,my darling,
No matter the life we had,
It has happened to a good many ship,
It is so brutal and bad.
Do not think false wishes
That I shall escape this fate.
No,my baby,I shan't,
It will be either early or late."

"Oh,Olympic! They cannot **** you!
You have such a life ahead!
How could they be so cruel
And with their blows,make you dead?"

"Brittanic,my darling daughter,
To them,we are naught more than machines
We have no life,no hopes,
They don't even think we have dreams.
I could tell you so much more,dearest,
There is so much more I can say,
But the humans want me to go somewhere,
So,I shall come back one day.
Be true,my darling,while I'm gone,
Make me proud of your ways
Strike out over life,
Rejoice in the sun's rays
I shall come back again,
Don't you doubt that twice,
I have much more to tell you
And your company is so nice!"

I watched her as she sailed away
Into the slowly setting sun
Thinking of all she had told me
And the life that she had run.
The first thing she had done in life
Were joyful sails o'er the ocean blue
Then,drafted into war she was,
And cared for the soldiers too.
I loved her so very dearly,
And dreaded when we had to part,
But thoughts of meeting once again
Gradually settled my heart.
Her Captain took her one way,
Mine took me the other,
I remembered everything I saw
So I could later tell my dear mother.
Not everything was exciting
In those future trips I took,
Months were passing,but I recalled
Everything like a reference book.
So much time was passing,
Now the time was nigh,
When I 'd wait for dear Mother to come in
From the waves she did ply.
I waited and waited that first day
Sought out on the open sea,
It would be a wonderful time
When it was just her and me.
She would tell of her trip,
I would tell of mine
How proud she was to carry the flag
Of the White Star Line.
I waited and waited to see the tugs
That would pull her back to shore,
Just her and I together,
Sharing stories once more.
She didn't come in that day,
Perhaps that she was late
Taking a little longer that
The time the humans did slate.
She didn't come in that next day either
And I started to fret!
Did she come into a different dock
Than what she'd normally get?
The next day came,and far way,
I saw quite a sight.
Something that looked like a ship,
Though didn't appear quite right.
I watched the tugs pull it closer,
Yes,'twas a ship indeed.
But,what in heavens happened
To give it this somber lead?
I could tell it was grand at one time,
Yet,that seemed so long ago,
Curiousity wracked my mind,
And I wanted to know.
This somber shell came closer,
Devoid of deck and stack,
I looked toward the starboard bow
And the name
OLYMPIC
stared
back.

I couldn't think at all that moment!
My heart welled up with pain!
Olympic! My treasured mother!
I shall never see you again!
You were right about the ship-breakers!
They ruthlessly tore you apart!
Not paying any heed to your
Loving,kindly heart!
How shall I survive,
Without your beauty and your truth?!
Those ignorant men killed you
In your 25 years of youth!
Oh,I hope they be cursed
For doing something so bad,
Now I am without you
And so terribly lonely and sad!
Olympic! Olympic!
I shall say your name over and over again,
Hoping it shall bring you back
From hard-hearted sin!
I watched as they pulled you away,
My vision has clouded with tears
Yet,I keep on watching
You endured such fears.
Melancholy feelings grip my heart
I no longer have interest in life!
I have seen the meaning full and complete
Of a word you did call 'strife'.
No more stories to be shared
On a night glowing with moon,
No longer shall I see you,
Gleaming in the sun of noon!
The men have done their worst,
I shall no longer hear your horn,
Such a proud note it had
That I've remembered since I was born!!
Olympic,Olympic,I love you,
I'm so happy you got to hear those words
I'll wait and watch and listen
As the lament is echoed by sea-birds.
Those tug boats are pulling away
Taking you to the last of your fate.
I love you so much,dearest mother,
But,the ship-breakers I hate!!
You pass so slowly before me
I gaze for the last time at your sleek steel,
So strong,once you were,
But that doesn't now seem real.
With barely a ripple the water glides
Across your red and black coat
The humans are so uncaring
Thinking you are only a boat.
Good-bye,my mother dearest,
Farewell and aurevoir too,
I hope so much you are with your sister,
In the heavenly,eternal blue.
I wish you the best of happiness
For you loved your sister so,
As soon as the ship-breakers broke your heart,
I know that's where you did go.
I am so glad I heard the stories of
The life that you did live.
I am so glad I knew the love
The heart of you could give.
I hear the echo of your voice,
The tales that you could bring
The truths of your soul,
And the love that you could sing........

"Brittanic,my darling dearest,
When I was torn into by a collision with the Hawke,
It wasn't exactly pleasant,
And I had to return to dock.
The gentle men,they repaired my ****
Made me as good as new,
Then I sailed out again
Into the ocean blue.
Then,I threw a propeller blade,
Humans called me an accident-prone sort,
But,back again I went,
To be repaired at Belfast port.
That was the last time,dear daughter,
Titanic and I would be side by side
I wished it would last longer,
Yet time did not forever bide.
People took a photo
That immortalized that day
The very last time we'd be together,
Forever together,they'd say.
I hold that glorious memory
In the chambers of my heart.
Under 'lock-and-key',
Never,ever to part.
My sister and I together
Upon the ocean's crest
Glowing in the sunlight
At our next-to-best.
Oh,that moment was so long ago
Our moment side by side.
The last time we'd be together,
Before she sadly died.
The Captain thought me foolish
To plough through icy sin,
Yet,if it meant to save my sister,
I would do it all over again......"

My mother's words echoed
As she drifted away from sight.
Now she was with the one she loved
And tried to save on a 15th of April night.
I said my last good-bye to her
When the tug boats pulled her away.
This memory emblazoned fiercly
On this unforgettable day.
I watched a little longer
Wondered if there was sadness in the sea,
The Olympic-Class was over,
Now there was only me.
My mother was a masterpiece
When she was under steam.
Like a picture-postcard,
A reigning Ocean Queen.
People once loved my mother,
They sailed on only her,
But then,there came a change,
And she became a bothersome burr.
No one sought to save her
From the scrappers filth and grime,
She was wanted no longer,
Her age and fashion,her crime.
The people remembered her little
After her scrapping day
No flowers were strewn
In her solemn way.
Did any one else say 'good-bye',
Or,was I the only one?
Bading farewell to her grandeur,
And those crimes she hadn't done.
No monuments were erected
In her grand memory.
She was the daughter of Belfast,
And her second love was me.
She filled 25 years with her riches,
And also with her pride.
Filling them with love,
The love that never lied.
I always thought my mother to be
An invincible sort.
Who had no fears,or,if she did,
She left them back at port.
Her haunting words echoed
Her fortelling of her fate:

"I am nothing more than 50,000 tons of steel
For the scrappers to break...."

She said it with a certain sadness
For that was her future path,
She didn't deny  it with falsehoods
That they would tear her heart in half.
I shudder at the thought
Of the scrappers fire and tools
Who looked at my mother so eagerly
With eyes bespeaking cruel.
The company wanted her no longer,
No matter the life she had had,

"Scrapping happens to a good many ship,"
she said,
"And it is so brutal and sad."

What had she endured
In the breakers waterless dock?
Did she think of me?
Was I her final thought?
I love you,dearest mother,
There shall never be another like you
Think of you often,I will,
Upon the bounteous blue.

I am always the daughter of Olympic,
Always shall be Brittanic,
Always shall remember the love of my mother,
And the bravery of one named Titanic.
I  will always miss my mother,
And our days together in dock,
The stories she lovingly told me,
Be also under lock.
I will probably not share my stories
With many others,true,
But if the time does arise,
Share them I shall do.

"Brittanic,what was Lady Olympic like?
Did the people make her grand?"

"Yes,dear friend,she was fine,
One of the finest in the land...."
Though I am very learned in the subjects of Olympic,Titanic and Brittanic,any one who knows the story will realize many details have been left out. The reason for this is because I made it more of a 'human-interest' poem,to show the three sisters in a different light other than engine-driven steel leviathan vessels. Placing Olympic as the mother of Brittanic makes it easier,in my opinion,to gain feelings towards the matter. Yes,Brittanic was sunk in war ages before Olympic was sold to the T.W Ward shipyard,but to mix the details around makes it more interesting. I aim this prose to  spark interest in RMS Olympic,a grand lady who is remembered little.  Put yourself in the position of Brittanic and imagine the fright at seeing the demolished and scrapped vessel as her mother. When all is said and done though,I dedicate this poem to RMS  OLYMPIC. Rest In Peace,dear lady.
One Winged Angel


Dec 10, 2011, 7:39:29 PM by ~OmegaWolfOfWinter
Journals / Personal




It was very late, and Lucian had just gotten back from his assignment. he unlocked the door to his house and set his things down on the bed. he removed his shirt and removed the bandages on his chest. that demon put up quite a fight... he put on a robe and decided to get some rest. he set his things down on the floor next to him and hung his sword by the bed. he exhaled deeply and relaxed, finally back in the comfort of his own home. sleep quickly enveloped him and he began to dream.
******
Lucian was woken from a deep sleep by the sound of his door breaking down. Two massive angels shrouded in black cloaks stepped inside his room as Lucian scrambled to his feet, feeling a sudden chill beneath his simple white robe. One of the angels spoke, "Lucian, Elite Angel number 373-14, you are under arrest for high treason, grand theft, and ******."
Lucian was dumbfounded at the accusation. "What on heaven are you talking about?!"
the guard-angels grabbed the warrior-angel and dragged him out of his house and onto the streets where a small crowd had gathered. They escorted him to the capitol, which wasn't far away. Lucian gazed up at the massive black monolith before him.
He was immediately sent to the rooftop, where the Punisher was waiting.
Lucian desperately tried to explain. "I've been set up!! Please let me go! I've done nothing wrong!!"
The angel to his left looked at Lucian in disgust. "Quiet, you."
He reached to Lucian's throat and he felt a massive bolt of electricity course through his body. He collapsed in their arms and blacked out for a moment.
He couldn't say anything; he had a sign of silence on his throat. He blacked out again and when he woke he was on his knees in front of the punisher. His hands were bound behind his back and he was held by a multitude of chains and braces. The guard-angel touched his throat and the seal of silence was removed. "elite angel Lucian, number 373-14, you are charged with high treason against the holy city, grand theft of a holy artifact and the murders of 7 holy officials, as punishment-"
"I didn't do any of those things!!!"
"SILENCE!! There is evidence that places you at the scene."
"What-"
"your punishment, you will lose your wings," Lucian gasped and tears formed in his eyes. "...and will be given the Mark of Eternal torture."
"No! Not the Mark!! Please no!!"
The punisher stepped forward and drew his slender sword. As he stepped forward, Lucian squirmed and fought against his bindings but to no avail. "God help me!"
"How dare you speak the lord's name, criminal!" the punisher slashed at Lucian's throat, grazing it and leaving a long, bleeding cut. Lucian groaned and said, "No... No... Please..."
the punisher stepped to Lucian's side and raised the sword. Lucian's tears came and began hyperventilating. "No, NO, NOO!!!"
The punisher brought the sword down and Lucian screamed in agony as one of his wings fell to the ground. Lucian was in so much pain, he wished he could die right then, right there. He was crying now, tears of sorrow and pain. "No, please, I beg you! Have mercy!"
For some reason the punisher then sheathed his sword. "Fine, you may keep your remaining wing."
"th-thank-" he was cut off as the punisher knelt down and grabbed Lucian's throat. He screamed again as he felt an intense burning. He continued to cry out as the punisher released him but the burning remained, slowly spreading over his entire body with such intensity that he lost consciousness multiple times. after an excruciatingly long torture, the burning ceased, and Lucian saw that it had etched runes and twisting lines over his whole body, almost his whole body, it had left his head and hands untouched. His voice had turned into a hiss and he tried to speak. he was unbound and he reached back to touch where his left wing had been, there was only a stump left.
"Lucian, you are hereby renounced of your warrior status. Get him out of my sight." Lucian was escorted outside, where the guardians left him stranded in the street. He blacked out and felt himself being picked up and carried somewhere else.
************
"he's heavy" thought the angel. He carried the limp body off the streets and through alleys, to an abandoned complex not far away. "Melinda!" he called. A slender young angeless came from the shadows.
"Who on heaven is this, Ven?!"
Ven looked around and said, "not here... Let's get inside."
he carried the angel inside and set him down on the dimly lit bed. He was still out cold. Ven sighed and said, "Remember that trip I took to the holy city?"
"Yes of course."
"Things happened there... the Network had me do some things..."
she narrowed her eyes. "What type of things?"
"i-i had to steal some artifacts...and some officials got killed."
"WHAT?!?!"
"i didn't get caught! But... i-i panicked, i blamed it on... On him..."
melinda was speechless," i-i cant..."
"melinda... Please..."
"no, i cant deal with this anymore, i'm leaving."
"wait!"
"no, ven. Figure this out on your own." and she disappeared.
Ven sighed and looked over at the one-winged angel.
"i'm sorry"
the angel stirred slightly but didnt wake. Ven looked at the stump where the angel's wing should have been, and the scars that lined his body.
"i need to take him to the Network... Maybe, maybe then i can finish what i started... And give this angel what i stole from him... I have to take him to the Holy One..."
he closed his eyes for a moment, then,"i promise, you will get your wing back." and he fell asleep.
**********
Lucian woke up as parts of his body burned fiercly. He cried out and writhed in pain. Soon the burning became a simmer, but it still hurt. lucians heart was beating rapidly and he was exhausted. He replayed last night's adventure. He glanced over his shoulder and as expected, he didnt see his wing. he could feel the blood caked on his back and he felt weak when he tried to get up. He fell and caught himself on the table. "wait a moment... Where am i?!" he frantically looked at his surroundings. He saw another angel asleep in a chair and a doorway behind him. The door looked weak but lucian wasnt sure he could do anything in his weakened state. "i have to try..." he ran, or rather stumbled toward the door and managed to break it down. He fell down outside and was temporarily blinded by the sunlight. He managed his way into the street, where the angels looked on in confusion. "i'm... this
is my street..." he hobbled over to his house and stepped inside. nothing had been touched since last night. "i'm not going to be able to find work... I'm not going to be able buy food.. agh! What am i going to do!" he sat on the bed, his head in his hands. he looked over to the wall, where he had his warrior blade hanging just in case. He grabbed his bag and packed some clothes. He changed into his finer dress clothes that he used on formal occasions. He grabbed his bag and put the sword on his belt. "i wish it didnt have to come to this..." he pushed on a spot on the wall and it slid away. Inside the compartment were his warrior armor and weapons. He took off the suit jacket and grabbed his vest. he put various weapons in their spots and shut the wall. He put the suit-jacket back on and buttoned it to conceal the vest. He felt energized and ready for anything. That was until he turned and saw the angel from the complex.
"where do you think You're going?"
"who are you?"
the angel looked amused and said, "you can call me Ven."
"well, Ven, i'm going to find the one who set me up, and i'm going to do what he did to me."
ven looked frightened. "why dont you come with me."
lucian didnt trust this ven. "i'm not going with anyone." and he dove through the window. He sprinted down the street, the bag and his sword held firmly in his hands. "i need money, i need food... I need to find him."
***********
after all these years of loyal service, after all he'd done, he'd been thrown out without trial, revoked his warrior status, and now Lucian was going to find whoever had done this to him, and he was going to make him pay. he was a fallen angel, and he had nothing to lose.
lucian was perched on the top of the church spire, contemplating where to start his search. *the evidence.. what evidence...?

"i'll start with the judges chambers..."
lucian looked to the north, where the monolith towered over the city. he jumped from roof to roof as he neared the building. i'll do whatever i have to... anything to clear my name. different parts of his body started to burn, and the others began to cool off.
the mark... its burning, it's going to keep burning...
he cried out and fell from the roof he was on. he hit the alley hard enough to break bone, but he happened to land on his wing, cushioning his fall, only a little bit though.
this mark is going to **** me someday... he checked his wing and brushed off the dirt. he folded the wing flat against his back and sat up. he got back on his feet and continued to the monolith.
will i have to live with this mark forever?
*************
(one day later)
"GET BACK HERE!!! STOP THAT MAN!!!" lucian was on the run. he found exactly what he was looking for, now he needed to find more information concerning the artifacts and the theif. but first he had to get away. he was turning corners and sprinting like a madman, but he couldnt escape the Detainers. then he heard a voice, "One Wing! over here!"
lucian looked towards where he heard the voice and saw an Angeless beckoning for him to come. "follow me!"
lucian reluctantly followed, winding through abandoned buildings and finally ducking behind an old counter. after a few minutes of silence, the woman said, "okay, we're clear. i'm Elora."
"lucian."
"oh... you're THE One-wing-angel..."
lucian looked down at the ground. "yeah... that's me."
"you were an elite, a warrior angel, weren't you?"
"yeah, but then i was set up and now i'm an outcast..."
"you were set up?"
"yeah, i was. i had everything i ever wanted, why would i need to commit those crimes? i was loyal, and trusted by everyone. and i swear that i will find whoever set me up..."
"and then what?" elora seemed to be waiting for something.
"i'm going to do to him what he did to me."
"what did he-" elora was cut off by lucian as he cried out. "what's wrong?!"
"the mark.... of eternal torture..."
"oh my gosh... i didnt know..."
"its nothing... i'm used to it..."
he took off his suit jacket and elora gasped when she saw his scars. she didn't seem to notice the vest of weapons or the sword at his side. "this is..."
"...the Mark..."
she grimaced as she saw them and said, "i'm sorry..."
"but why?"
"because, i was going to turn you in..."
lucian was on his feet immediately. "what?!"
"wait!! i'm not going to... not after seeing what they did to you..."
"how can i be sure i can trust you?!"
elora looked down at her feet and said, "you cant... but i can get you out of the city..."
"you can?"
************
Lucian was still finding it hard to trust Elora, but he stuck with her anyway. She took him away from the city and was about to turn back. Something inside Lucian wanted her to stay. "Wait! Don't leave. Come with me to the holy city."
She seemed hesitant but willing, "i-ive never been to the holy city...."
"It's an amazing place, quite a sight to see."
She took a moment to think and nodded, "I'll go with you."
Lucian smiled and walked forward. After long hours of relentless walking, Elora asked," how far do we have to travel?"
"A few more hours of walking..."
Elora sighed and said, "Alright..."
Lucian glanced over at her and saw that she was tired. "We should rest."
Elora and Lucian got off of the path ad took shelter beneath some gild-trees. "Elora, go ahead and rest up."
she reluctantly slept, but she was glad to, they had been traveling all day.
Lucian sharpened his blades and meditated while she slept.
Lucian prayed, like he had always done every morning. He had vowed not to let his becoming an outcast interfere with his routine. After he was finished, he sighed and glanced over at Elora; she was fast asleep. He then glanced at the sky and saw dark clouds quickly closing in. Lucian didn't want to wake Elora but he wanted to get her out of the rain. He set his suit jacket and weapons vest next to her and he extended his wing over her just as the rain began to fall. he was pleased to see that the rain would not touch the sleeping angel. On the other hand, Lucian was vulnerable, but he didn't mind. He would rather shelter Elora than himself. Lucian ignored the rain and decided to doze for a while.
***********
Elora woke up as a cold wind blew. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and saw the millions of raindrops in front of her. it took her a moment to realize that she was dry. she glanced over and saw that Lucian was soaking wet and had his wing extended over her. "You should have woken me, Lucian." she extended one of her wings over him as he shivered.
"th-thanks, e-elora." she could tell he was freezing because even the feather's  above her were shivering. she decided to do something to repay his kindness.
"come closer, we can share body heat." suddenly the feathers stopped shivering, they became rigid, as if lucian was surprised... apparently he was.
"really?"
"yeah, its the least i can do." she sat closer to him and put an arm around him. his skin was cool to the touch and his muscles were tense, but they soon relaxed, as did the feathers above her. he soon stopped shivering and the rain stopped falling.
jeffrey robin Dec 2010
poisoned love
subliminal

images that enslave

ah!

there you are

----------

watching ***** children
dance with celebs
instead of stars!

-----

beyonce the beyonce!

----------

sasha fiercly free!

--------

are we
really only

stupid twits?

----------

poisoned country

beyond the beyouncing
booberoos

poisoned minds

(speaking

subliminally)
Logan Smith Dec 2014
There's two doors.
Behind one,
Is someone you love and adore,
And he'll love you fiercly.
He'd die for you.
He'll tell you everyday how beautiful you are,
And how much he loves you.
He'll forever take care of you,
He's safe
And he will never hurt you.
But part of you knows,
You can never love him the way he loves you.

Behind the second,
Is someone you'll love fiercly,
Passionately,
When he kisses you the world will seem to light up in flames.
Seeing him is like seeing him for the first time,
Everytime.
His very existence makes the world seem bright again.
When he's gone,
You feel almost empty.
He's dangerous,
Amazing,
And your souls are intertwined.
But he'll never love you the way you love him.

Now open a door.
Seán Mac Falls Jul 2015
( Sonnet )*

Poppies, wild in a quarry,
Orange, brighter than sun,
Thrusting thoroughly gravel,
Bold as soul crossing sticks
Into ****** pagan heydays,
A crop of colours branding
The loose stipend of stones,
One windy trail-flare shock,
A bulwark of stars, so laden
On landed, maiden shores,
The first batillion breaking,
By mighty petal, prim hands
Fiercly alive atop the lifeless,
Gravely low, defeated soot.
Sofia Aug 2010
He breathes this life into me.

I come from far aways and swim in his ocean of Light but still I stray
from time
to time.

I seep filth and despair and wallow in the blackest of waves as I forsake the real Redeemer.
Where is my joy? Where is my belief in a hope that destroys all senselessness and brutality? All self deprecating and apathetic waste that I contain?

A heart differs so greatly than the other in each man and woman who has ever been alive. Prayer steadfast brings talents to the surface, and glorified by His hands we walk in a blinding outpouring of Light. Because we bear His name instead of a lie.

I tried in vain night after night, month after month, year after year to convince myself of the rightness of each word I say. Of each thought I think, **** everyone else, I was the wiser! I was the superior! I was the true victor of these broken homes we call hearts!

AND YET THERE HE WAS TO BREAK ME DOWN IN THE KINDEST AND MOST LOVING OF WAYS WHEN I DESERVE HELL!

Try believing that you were once on top of everyone elses’ brains and yet there He was to steer your so-called mighty ship away from a sheer drop in the waters— turns out you captain a pathetic dinghy.

Now breathing slowly. I close my worthless eyes and see the speck of a fraction of His glory. I walk among a pasture where tranquility and serenity reign, and I? I am a fool. I am a wandering Pharisee with a lost mind and two empty hands. I feel a heart beat fiercly within me when I think of You, I feel my soul stir to a great storm of love and awe when I see You move in the earth and in lives so closely connected with mine. I love to see You work, Father, your craft will never be challenged in all of eternity. I would trade all I’ve gained in the world to become the best daughter in You.

I am a daughter of the Most High.

He knows how I dream. He knows how passionately I desire the richest life i was called to serve for the Kingdom. I was a blessed soul. He knows. He knows how I dream. He knows what I dream of and what I cannot begin to.

So I walk onward and can only gaze at the sky, as if the blue atmospheric sea is teaching me lessons on its own. I beg for an answer, the prayer i have uttered hoarsely for so many nights: “Where am i? Where am I on this map of Yours?! I am getting crushed by the world and these walls are closing in on me. I writhe in my own agony and succumb to so much pride. I am killing me. Where am I? O Father, where am I in You?!”

And He listens. And He knows. I know He knows, and carries me ‘cross chasms and whirlpools, even when I do not feel His embrace. Soon i know these times will come. I challenged the sky no more, and take a moulding hammer to my own heart, to shape for You. I will make You proud someday, I swear.I will make this life worth something… I then ask him if I was planned for anything great at all. Was my soul charted out to someday hold and deliver power and integrity in You?

And as I listen close, every fiber of my eardrums heightened, my soul stills as I hear one thing..
He breathes. And He breathes this life in me.
06/20/2010
Seán Mac Falls May 2014
Poppies, wild in a quarry,
Orange, brighter than sun,
Thrusting thoroughly gravel,
Bold as soul crossing sticks
Into ****** pagan heydays,
A crop of colours branding
The loose stipend of stones,
One windy trail-flare shock,
A bulwark of stars, so laden
On landed, maiden shores,
The first batillion breaking,
By mighty petal, prim hands
Fiercly alive atop the lifeless,
Gravely low, defeated soot.
LJ Eaddy Jun 2014
There is rumbling in the sky.
There is rumbling on the ground.
One day there was a blue sky,
And the next a foggy, gray cloud.
She left out of hate, out of pride
Trying to break down her mother who fiercly cried.
He knows what is happening,
For a sprout, he has an old soul.
The soul of a dancing woman;
Who now cries as she looks to see
What her family has become.
And hopes that her love filled tears
Cleans all the hate away.
Seán Mac Falls Dec 2014
Poppies, wild in a quarry,
Orange, brighter than sun,
Thrusting thoroughly gravel,
Bold as soul crossing sticks
Into ****** pagan heydays,
A crop of colours branding
The loose stipend of stones,
One windy trail-flare shock,
A bulwark of stars, so laden
On landed, maiden shores,
The first batillion breaking,
By mighty petal, prim hands
Fiercly alive atop the lifeless,
Gravely low, defeated soot.
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2017
( Sonnet )*

Poppies, wild in a quarry,
Orange, brighter than sun,
Thrusting thoroughly gravel,
Bold as soul crossing sticks
Into ****** pagan heydays,
A crop of colours branding
The loose stipend of stones,
One windy trail-flare shock,
A bulwark of stars, so laden
On landed, maiden shores,
The first batillion breaking,
By mighty petal, prim hands
Fiercly alive atop the lifeless,
Gravely low, defeated soot.
jeremy wyatt Jan 2011
Ate so much it has to come out
belly ache makes me whinge and shout
try to be quiet, bite my tongue
like I closed my *** up with a ****.
I've Got to get rid of this pain
so I can eat some more again
strain as fiercly as I can
spladoosh! I bust the ****** pan!
A tidal wave is swirling round
knocking buildings to the ground
gossips whisper"have you heard?"
Jeremy did that with his ****!
Seán Mac Falls Jul 2016
( Sonnet )*

Poppies, wild in a quarry,
Orange, brighter than sun,
Thrusting thoroughly gravel,
Bold as soul crossing sticks
Into ****** pagan heydays,
A crop of colours branding
The loose stipend of stones,
One windy trail-flare shock,
A bulwark of stars, so laden
On landed, maiden shores,
The first batillion breaking,
By mighty petal, prim hands
Fiercly alive atop the lifeless,
Gravely low, defeated soot.
E A Bookish Mar 2016
Desire is a small bird in your palm

You want to pet it, but you also want to crush it

You are the adult who wants to *** in the swimming pool
Who wants to eat the whole cake
Who never wants to wake up from a dream about flying

Desire is a small bird with the sharpest of beaks and claws

It's telling you you'll never be innocent
You'll never get over it
You'll want everything too fiercly
And you're not fooling anyone

Desire is a bird in your palm, who dares you

To crush it
To stuff it in the back of the closet
To bury it in the yard
It dares you to say that
You do not contain desire
It dares you to do something about it
Sharp of beak and soft of feather
Whisper-sings coercion until you
Are nothing but a conduit for sensation

Desire is a small bird in your palm
That will not fly away
And if you strangle it between your fingers
You will find that
Desire is not a small bird in your palm
It is a haggard vulture in your chest.
Heather Moon Jan 2015
"Animals Share with Us the Privilege of Having a Soul"      
                                           -Pythagoras-


I've got a sonoran soul,
a wild cat soul,
a soul that lives for sunsets.
That runs with jagged teeth,
Until one corner of the Earth meets the next.

I've got a feirce soul,
A passionate soul,
A soul that howls,
until everyones been fed.

A red, red, red, orange, amber soul that Rips and Bites and loves so fiercly that often it hides away,

Just like Ernest Hemingway said:
" The best people possess a feeling for beauty, the courage to take risks, the discipline to tell the truth, the capacity for sacrifice. Ironically, their virtues make them vulnerable; they are often wounded, sometimes destroyed."

But destroyed I am NoT,
I've got a soul that rOcks me, quAkes me, and shaKes me from my sleepy grave.
I've got a soul that doesn't give up,
I've got a strong soul,
a tigress, a sassy *****, a roaring stormin fire sista!!



And I've got a spirit...



A spirit that hums like a soft love bird, a spirit that loves to lie in backs of hippie vans and watch the sweet dangle of ornaments.
A spirit that listens, that wraps my arms around my chest,  a spirit that calmly braids my hair,
a spirit that washes me like the oceans tides that roll over vast sands to cleanse the gentle earth.

A spirit that caresses, soothes and nurtures. A spirit that lives for the sunrise, a spirit that coos as the day lifts over mama cedar.


So the soul lives for sunsets, the spirit for sunrise,
and I,

At the stillness of my core,

I live for the darkness
that happens between the two worlds.
Satsih Verma Apr 2017
Becoming fiercly personal
with no physical contact,
the crescent moon
ultimately occults the Venus.

The grazer now turns into
fugitive. Was not the knower,
was not the known.

No past, no future, you
move with your eyes down
to deny the assault, the flirtation.

Your silence was
unthinkable. I will bring home
the dead. Light is gone. The
slapper sleeps.

In emotional agony I
start prowling for the body.
Seán Mac Falls Dec 2015
( Sonnet )*

Poppies, wild in a quarry,
Orange, brighter than sun,
Thrusting thoroughly gravel,
Bold as soul crossing sticks
Into ****** pagan heydays,
A crop of colours branding
The loose stipend of stones,
One windy trail-flare shock,
A bulwark of stars, so laden
On landed, maiden shores,
The first batillion breaking,
By mighty petal, prim hands
Fiercly alive atop the lifeless,
Gravely low, defeated soot.
Seán Mac Falls May 2015
.
*Gusts swirl under moist sun sinking,

Leaves loft and fall into garden pond,

Fiercly, first colours assemble to brink,

Red maple burns throughout autumn.
Seán Mac Falls Mar 2016
( Sonnet )*

Poppies, wild in a quarry,
Orange, brighter than sun,
Thrusting thoroughly gravel,
Bold as soul crossing sticks
Into ****** pagan heydays,
A crop of colours branding
The loose stipend of stones,
One windy trail-flare shock,
A bulwark of stars, so laden
On landed, maiden shores,
The first batillion breaking,
By mighty petal, prim hands
Fiercly alive atop the lifeless,
Gravely low, defeated soot.
Seán Mac Falls Dec 2014
Gusts swirl under moist sun sinking,

Leaves loft and fall into garden pond,

Fiercly, first colours assemble to brink,

Red maple burns throughout autumn.
Seán Mac Falls May 2014
Gusts swirl under moist sun sinking,

Leaves loft and fall into garden pond,

Fiercly, first colours assemble to brink,

Red maple burns throughout autumn.
KandiLynnnn Oct 2013
Watching you being there,
tasting the smell on your mouth,
makes me uneasy.

Yet in your absence I wait for you with nervous hands,
for I tell myself that only
you being there
can make me whole.

I loathe the way you caress me with mahogany eyes
as if there is more inside of my heart than coal.

The constant battle between my-selfs become tiring
paired with the
war against your
fathomless,
ordinary,
spiritless,
love.

Achilles never fought as fiercly against Hector
as I do against my brutish thoughts.

The silence gets so loud sometimes
and my hands won't stop trembling
with the fear that I might be right.

I whisper to myself to wait another night.
Senor Negativo Apr 2017
You are so dynamic, darling
I fear your flames
might be raging too fiercly.
You are a fireworks display.
The light and noise
can astound, and dazzle
but you spread yourself too thin.
I would rather you focused
on the blindingly beautiful bursts
you show me every so often,
than burn your fuse at both ends
and bury your gorgeous sky flowers
under barrages of bottle rockets.
I understand that your displays
are not crafted for me alone.
But, I know the spark
 buried inside you
and it is that fire than ignites my desire,
but the packs of jumping jacks
you toss at my feet
only serve to distract me
from your far more brilliant offerings.
I know I cant afford the ticket,
but either way, I will watch the show
from the other side of the tracks.
And launch one of my mortars
like a sympathetic shout
whenever I can do so,
without sacrificing my own sound.
Sorry for the pun title, and lame extended metaphor. But, I can only work with what I have.
Monique Jun 2015
Filled with power and love.
Similing and laughing so fiercly,
Thinking of all the positivity,
It feels so good to be happy!

That beautiful smirk lighting up the room,
That sweet heart blossiming flowers.
Singing cheers of joy,
Loving everythibg being enjoyed.

Like a trance full of confidence and emotion,
Twinkling stars dancing in motion.
Melodically talent filling the spirit,
Only thinking about each lyric.

Why can't it be like this all the time?
Tricked into thinking i'm happy, knowing its all a lie.

-dpk
DarrianaXo Feb 2014
Everybody keeps telling me that you never fall in love as deeply as you did the first time.
that the fiery passion will never burn as (fiercly) with number 3 as it did with number one.
That the butterflies in my stomach will no longer take flight at the sight of him
My cheeks will no longer blush that rose pink pigment that he tells me he loves

They say that no one compares to your first love.
That no other hands will hold you quite as right.
Quite as tight.

Your first love, despite what you may think, owns you.

The first person to kiss you inch by inch.
The first person to make you feel like the woman you are.
The first person who touched you with hands like magic,
Leaving your body doing tricks that you didn’t know possible.

They say that after him, the others will only dull in comparison.
They say your first love is the most intense love you’ll ever experience.
That you’ll no longer fall in love, you’ll only stumble in like.

And if you can only really fall in love once, then I plan to do it right the first time.
Maya Sep 2018
all we are:
lonely hearts
looking for anything
to bridge the gap.

oh, medusaesque
****** blade with a diamond hilt
clean cut house with padded walls
storm hidden in the cloudy valley.

red-laced bottle of pride
running fast as your legs can go to keep away the
terrors.

busy is a lifestyle to
fiercly avoid the memories.
you can keep them one step behind
as long as you don't ever stop.

sometimes i think you're eight out of nine lives away from dying on the front step.

but
this cat
always lands on its feet.
'rev the ignition
straight on to oblivion
into a void
as pure as they come'
- pat the bunny
Benjamin Reed Nov 2019
i do not Love you any more.

although i did once.

fiercly.

and, i find it humorous
that this is how things
should be.

i do not Love you any more.
and, this will be the last
that i will ever Write
about you.

i do not Love you any more,
because i cannot
remember
what loving you was like.

i do not Care what
odd number of
other men come to
visit your doorstep.

or love you
or you them.

i do not Love you any more,
because where once was
Chopin
and his etudes
now
there is Prokofiev.

i do not Love you any more,
because i am in love with
another;
and she portends
a future.

i do not Love you any more,
because before now
i am not sure i knew
what love was.

not really.

and maybe that's
all the more sad.
Seán Mac Falls Jul 2020
(Sonnet)

Poppies, wild in a quarry,
Orange, brighter than sun,
Thrusting thoroughly gravel,
Bold as soul crossing sticks
Into ****** pagan heydays,
A crop of colours branding
The loose stipend of stones,
One windy trail-flare shock,
A bulwark of stars, so laden
On landed, maiden shores,
The first batillion breaking,
By mighty petal, prim hands
Fiercly alive atop the lifeless,
Gravely low, defeated soot.
.
bluevelvet May 2017
Strolling down the walk
under the blistering sun,
would I have been
good enough?

Showing me your
favorite spots,
eating late lunches
on the dock.
Would you have
held my hand?

Late night talking
in the cooling summer breeze,
how is it that I
still find reason
to daydream all these
pointless dreams?

You look
fiercly new and ultimately
something akin to
worthwhile,
like you could have been
the best place
to have called
home.
Just staling time,
I don't even cross your mind.
Will you still see it
in my eye
the next time you pass by?
If you ever do again.
Ford Prefect Dec 2017
they always say to me
"you get attached too quickly,
and always,
always,
to the wrong people"
and i tell them

you'd hang on to
the smallest
hints of hope, too,
if you've been left,
been forgotten,
been as faded into
the crowd as i
have


and they don't
get it
they can't fathom
walking up to a crowd
and not finding that person
whose soul meshes with
their own
and going days and weeks and months
******* years
like that
without ties
and without empty lungs

and they say to me
"you just have to be more welcoming"
and i tell them

i have had my home unlocked for years,
windows wide open
and a front door so
tired of never
welcoming
someone new
i have only ever been
a beacon
and you all have only ever been
blind mice
senseless gusts of wind
on a dark night


and they never understand
but the people
i hold onto
so tightly
love so fiercly
after minutes
seconds
of meeting them
they know the same fear
the same
devotion without
apology

and they say to me
"we can be so very wrong and so very stupid
together"
and i tell them

*i am home
don't you dare
leave
don't you dare
rob me and
throw me to the
birds
unless it's
with you
sinking just as quickly
into this
muted crowd
Andrew Gomez Nov 2023
Lets be honest, it has its' up's and down's
Irrate people all around
Fighting fiercly against time
End all suffering for a dime

— The End —