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"forfeiting" poems
Birthed by altruism or selfishness, Motivated by personal gain Or the forfeiting of a nation; It's the betrayal of friends, Country, cause and trust. Cassius, Judas, Benedict Arnold, The traitor has many personas. Traitors are hated by those they prefer. (Tacitus) *I forgive those who ****** and steal, but a traitor, never.* (Zapata) *A nation cannot survive treason from within... He rots the soul of a nation... No wise man ever thought a traitor should be trusted.* (Cicero) Softness to traitors will destroy us all. (Robespierre) An open enemy, however criminal, is no traitor. (Spooner) To have a traitor as an ally is to have an enemy in waiting. (Carey) *It is the just decree of heaven that a traitor never sees his danger till his ruin is at hand.* (Metastasia) There are but two parties now... traitors and patriots. (U.S. Grant) *If I had one bullet and I was faced by both enemy and traitor, I would let the traitor have it.* (Codreanue) There is a special place in hell reserved for traitors. (J. Trudeau) *Every man must be for the U.S. or against it. There can be no neutrals... only patriots or traitors.* (S. Douglas) Et tu, POTUS. (F. Lynch)
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Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 8:16 AM UTC
Traitor
June 1st, 1998. A child born, A boy, With a mop of brown hair, And complications. Pulse weak, Not getting enough oxygen... But the complications? They were handled. June 1st, 2003. Blowing out your candles, Looking forward to things to come. Like being the ring bearer in your parents' wedding. June 1st, 2005. Forfeiting your birthday wish, Because your wish is coming true. Your brother is born July 26th. June 1st, 2012. Looking back on middle school, And ahead on the monster known as high school. June 1st, 2013. Looking back on freshman year, And celebrating 6 months with the first girl you ever loved. You're positive she's the one. June 1st, 2014. Looking back on sophomore year, Relishing the thought of being an  upperclassman, Yet still mourning the loss of your first love almost a year before, on June 26th. June 1st, 2016. Going to the meeting and signing the paperwork. Feeling more pride than ever in your life. You leave for basic training in August. Little do you know, you will be medically discharged in November of the next year. June 1st, 2018. I will look back on all I have done. My failures most of all. Because they're all I have.
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Feb 5, 2017
Feb 5, 2017 at 10:45 AM UTC
June 1st, ----
To laugh Is to risk appearing the fool. To weep Is to risk appearing weak. To reach for another Is to risk commitment. To expose your beliefs and dreams Is to risk judgement. To love Is to risk not being loved in return. To live Is to risk dying. But risks must be taken. The greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing. The people who risk nothing Do nothing, have nothing, are nothing. They may avoid suffering and sorrow But they cannot learn, feel, grow, Live. Chained by their fear, they are slaves Forfeiting their own freedom. Only those who risk losing Can win the most in life
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Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 9:35 AM UTC
Take A Risk
I dream of you And the deep tonality you echo The sincerity etched to my bone So that I will never forget the fact I dream of you And the pudgy child that came running Always in the background, always full of wonder Laughing at things I will never forget I dream of you And the sweet nothings you whisper on the dial The excitement that takes over when I read your letters The constant reminder of the words I will never forget I dream of you And the verbal abuses we bicker back and forth dripped with regret A cat and mouse chase waiting to fight for the death until one surrenders Forfeiting the chase I will never forget I dream of you And the insecurity of your constant necessity of reassurance Temporary amnesia you always had towards my own honesty Forgetting to tell you the words I will never forget I dream of you And the opportunities I will never use to convince you Never will I be able to touch your skin or kiss your lips I will never forget the last time you said “I love you”.
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Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 6:07 AM UTC
I Dream of You
At the end of my name follow three letters right now they spell "mop". folks say it ain't the way it used to be jobs- like there's even such a thing as "beneath me". I'm a clever little phoenix I have my flight plan not an android, nor academia didn't make me Galatea I can wait and remember I can serve you an ice cream without forfeiting intellect in a flurry of sugar cones I pick my battles gracefully so I remember what I was taught. Curl up. Pay rent. Rebirth, then-   pounce.
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May 16, 2012
May 16, 2012 at 10:15 PM UTC
Blackbelt Bachelor
She's key to the prison isolating my heart. She's purest of joy one can ever know,  Angels dance at the edges of her heart, allergic to lies honesty is her pride. Suffocated by ropes of sorrows, she untied them and climb to lands of jubilation. Her smile awakens the smell of roses, Clearing the fog of uncertainty. A treasure worth forfeiting life for. Enticing,alluring, comely, serene and mesmeric lady. She's a lover, the light in the dark, a kind gentle heart sordid hands cannot reach. The mind floods with memories shared —the heart, dried by old tears and scarred by past lovers, yearns again for her touch.
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Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 10:41 PM UTC
The flickering velleity for renewing love
I’ve been questioned on my late night walks, why do I do it? the repetitive cracks sing hedonist soliloquies at every avoidance, the streetlights eat away at forfeiting darkness, vomiting garbage cans spew synthetic carrion and winking storefronts ****** nightfallers, trash kissing curbs pushing away affection cry out for help, cigarette butts cloud sandy sidewalks and hug dragging soles, passing cars and mindless youth spewing timeless nothings out car windows, cop cars and crisis topped middle-agers stumbling their way to fast food and regretful forenoons, I’ve been questioned on where I’m walking to, but never what I’m walking from, no matter where I go, I find myself burning my throat with coffee at 2am
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May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 1:36 AM UTC
The Liveliness Of Night, Helps Me Forget The Inertia Of Day
Like a butterfly who misses the many legs it once had Back then when it could only crawl and climb Like a flower that misses itself at its shortest stem When it was just a seedling right before its prime There are moments when nostalgia hits Too much that it makes me unaligned I ponder if I should regress to who I once was Only to go against my evolutionary design Or perhaps I just miss knowing I was loved So I question whether again, I would find Acceptance and belonging with fond memories With the current identity I now reside I could go back and make things simple again Go along with what I’ve been assigned It's been done before, a path predetermined With the name I was given at the starting line When I consider such a thought I feel much resistance As though I am forfeiting without much of a fight I feel caged, suffocated with helplessness If I had to persist in a life limited to foresight Know where I've been so I know where I’m going Where is the bridge where these two paths combine? To keep treading forward as I shed all that is unbecoming Becoming a way of being I can personally identify
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Aug 19, 2022
Aug 19, 2022 at 6:07 AM UTC
Sentimental
If you say I love you, you're signing a contract A document that you acknowledge the sharp pains that keep you from sleeping won't cease. You're forfeiting the feeling of being loved in order to show someone love. You're saying: "I know this will happen again and it is worth it."
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Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 7:45 PM UTC
permission granted
Visions in the breeze A tree on a broken horizon Each wave a shout From the past to the future A call heard only by The one's truly listening Tipping point mathematics Love has and always will be Trial and unforgivable error Hearing the door open as Echoing empty steps chime Like the first poets to ever write a rhyme Or an innocent man put to death Falsely accused of another one's crime Each order put into bolts and gears Wear me thin and rattle me to the bone I've made a mistake, I'm no longer here My feet are crooked and I feel queer Each note I hear is out of tune as the saloon Has started to bend backward The light under the fan spins Chopping my sight clean in two The blue creole sky enlivens my senses As youth dances and gyrates restless And effortless like one's first fall into love A case for the weak As the strong get along No dust in their fingertips Their stomachs always full As the poor feel the pull Into the road to the grave Put the ear to the snowy hills of Eastern Europe Make sure your boots are tied And your pen hand is steady, unwilling to lie Afraid of consequences is to be human But to be afraid of a life without them Is to tie the stitch to tight around the hem There is choice And then There is responsibility The routine Of our lives rely On the choices we made Due to responsibility Guilt and learned' reason Forget reason Forget thy' guilt Forfeit the old For the new You know truth More than I
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Dec 12, 2012
Dec 12, 2012 at 6:04 PM UTC
Forfeiting the Old
what texture did the skin take on before it gave up and swallowed you? did you ever for a second think that you could be safe when your fingers never stop twitching every time you examine your neck in the mirror there was a time before your hands were reasons to hold on tight to anything that could breathe don’t tell me they’ve always been this hungry you must have known a night before you had to bury them beneath pillows to keep them from biting at your ribcage fenced in by notions you put in your own head they weren’t always this restless there are ways to think about dying without burning it into your skin and there are nights that crackle like pyres when you slip and let the embers sink in and you think what is a body but a vessel for sacrifice but living on sharpened stakes never felt so good stop convincing yourself it feels good this depression is overgrown you’ve never weeded the garden didn’t water the flowers and then turned away from your withering too ashamed to call it your own don’t you wonder when this self-hate became the only trait that stayed hidden and safe take those itching fingers to the shovel and dig fresh beds to lay in stop lying in the excuses and uproot this grave how does one climb out of a life when every day is the same when did you get so forfeiting that you stopped attempting to pull your body out of this? i know it’s hard to convince yourself this woman is not the sum of her parts don’t believe the man who spits at you when you don’t agree to be the object of his rage is sane he will stay the same but it’s up to you to stop believing him right and seeing yourself through his eyes you are not a statistic or a receptacle for pain stop blaming your ribs for holding on so tightly to your heart for all the ways that you hate them your organs are still smarter than you are because they hold on like deadbolts and locks when you manifest the world’s sickness in your brain stop blaming yourself and take the reigns get a grip that isn’t cataclysmic learn to live instead of picking at scabs just to feel a pulse you have gotten in too deep and you are above this
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Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 9:36 AM UTC
you are better than this
what texture did the skin take on before it gave up and swallowed you? did you ever for a second think that you could be safe when your fingers never stop twitching every time you examine your neck in the mirror there was a time before your hands were reasons to hold on tight to anything that could breathe don’t tell me they’ve always been this hungry you must have known a night before you had to bury them beneath pillows to keep them from biting at your ribcage fenced in by notions you put in your own head they weren’t always this restless there are ways to think about dying without burning it into your skin and there are nights that crackle like pyres when you slip and let the embers sink in and you think what is a body but a vessel for sacrifice but living on sharpened stakes never felt so good stop convincing yourself it feels good this depression is overgrown you’ve never weeded the garden didn’t water the flowers and then turned away from your withering too ashamed to call it your own don’t you wonder when this self-hate became the only trait that stayed hidden and safe take those itching fingers to the shovel and dig fresh beds to lay in stop lying in the excuses and uproot this grave how does one climb out of a life when every day is the same when did you get so forfeiting that you stopped attempting to pull your body out of this? i know it’s hard to convince yourself this woman is not the sum of her parts don’t believe the man who spits at you when you don’t agree to be the object of his rage is sane he will stay the same but it’s up to you to stop believing him right and seeing yourself through his eyes you are not a statistic or a receptacle for pain stop blaming your ribs for holding on so tightly to your heart for all the ways that you hate them your organs are still smarter than you are because they hold on like deadbolts and locks when you manifest the world’s sickness in your brain stop blaming yourself and take the reigns get a grip that isn’t cataclysmic learn to live instead of picking at scabs just to feel a pulse you have gotten in too deep and you are above this
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Like human drones, They trailed the messiah From Frisco to Guyana, In search of Eden Among anacondas, tapirs, Diminutive Wai Wais, And Purple-heart giants.... Where torrential rain Blasted the ****** soil Like B-24 bombers Over Normandy... And piranhas Shredded human flesh To naked bone In black-water creeks Coursing through the Amazon... And a fledging nation Of less than 1 million Navigated the treacherous canefields Of independence... Why....? The question lingers Like maggots on 900 rotting corpses... Why....? The answers wither Like 900 minds mesmerized By Jim the messiah... Forfeiting lavish luxuries of freedom For the Temple's tickets To a worry-free ride... To Heaven. ~ Pablo (#JimTheMessiah) 3/1/2014
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Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 9:51 AM UTC
Jim the Messiah
We symbolize the mind as an art of power the art we include must mystify souls when our lips transcend out of our passion time seems harder to live without that fire the emplacement of what we hold so dear to us is it as everlasting as the source or just as fleeting as the energy we are so quick to obtain only to move mountains. If one thing is true it is that lightning will crack it's deadly whip revealing what we truly have inside. What we thought was peace becomes another piece of life's jigsaw pulling out jenga blocks from our mouths. Tranced in confusion, and desire the most skillful of men will dedicate work so much as to not drop a bead of sweat upon their tunic. Mysteries and artifacts are our true treasure when we full understand their meaning does that message mean immortality among mortals with the skills of a god. Light beaming on our faces soaking the sun's energy is bliss in it's purest form. Destruction could not conquer for even it's dread knows better to ****** a paradox of the omniscient. So we remain patient, we court ourselves with divine art of tracing auras back to our infinite soul glazing in eternity admiring the flares when there is no danger. forfeiting is no option there is always plenty to fight for but none to dance with when the fresh rain sings songs of sweet cherubic children flying to the melody god has truly blessed them with.
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Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 12:14 AM UTC
The Doctrine
See little in the breath of life Despair and strife shadow their hearts   Cruelly and without mercy command their minds Darkness touch is ever so blindingly sweet The light of the living never meet In the murmurings of a quivering night Those who worship the God of Death Seek no glimpses into a heart Long ago they decreed All love depart Forfeiting that which made them human Sacrificed on the altar of their cold demanding god Those who worship the God of Death Wander in silence and stealth Caring not for influence, lineage or social plight It is inconsequential In a world where emanates no light For them darkness touch is ever so blindingly sweet The light of the living never meet In the murmurings of a quivering night When the world becomes silent and emanates no light Those who worship the God of Death delight. All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Feb. 2, 2018.
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Feb 2, 2018
Feb 2, 2018 at 11:30 AM UTC
Those who worship the God of Death
The dragons of Eden Are forking their tongues Along the silver edge of acetone rain, Foreclosing yesterday’s shop-fronts In favour of a clean white page. They smoke in tailored suits, Blackening their lungs And toasting freedom with afternoon champagne. They took man to the moon, they say, And gave light to the modern age. They tweak offshore accounts With battery farms Of the hardly living, and hardly human. Forfeiting progress for profit, They scandalise the streets in debt. The dragons of Eden Are flexing their arms, They’re setting their minds from union, to fusion. They’re alighting our memories, But it is our choice to forget.
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May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 8:25 PM UTC
The Dragons of Eden
A cigarette hangs from her chapped lips Nails painted **** yellow, now chipping as she clacks them on the table Her wrist watch is broken so she has to count in her head One onethousand Two onethousand Forget it It's been about an hour now She pretends to read a book but instead she stares at one word on the page Patience Her lips pucker over the cigarette and she takes a deep drag With a disgusted sigh she exhales smoke like a dragon forfeiting a battle One onethousand Two onethousand **** patience," She gets up, throws the book in the trash, and leaves
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Jan 2, 2011
Jan 2, 2011 at 12:56 PM UTC
Sitting in a Coffee Shop 2
Every evening sky, an invitation, To trace the patterned stars, And early in July, a celebration, For freedom that is ours, And I notice You, In children's games, In those who watch them from the shade, Every drop of sun is full of fun and wonder, You are summer... And even when the trees have just surrendered, To the harvest time, Forfeiting their leaves in late September, And sending us inside, Still I notice You when change begins, And I am braced for colder winds, I will offer thanks for what has been and was to come, You are autumn... And everything in time and under heaven, Finally falls asleep, Wrapped in blankets white, all creation, Shivers underneath, And still I notice you, When branches crack, And in my breath on frosted glass, Even now in death, You open doors for life to enter, You are winter... And everything that's new has bravely surfaced, Teaching us to breathe, What was frozen through is newly purposed, Turning all things green. So it is with You, And how You make me new, With every season's change, And so it will be, As You are re-creating me: Summer, autumn, winter, spring.
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Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 9:23 AM UTC
Every Season
Being this powerful is a plague A mask of sorts, shielding us from reality Whether or not we wish to remember being Normal Normal? A rather self centered term For those decaying minds Trying to grab a hold of any Last inkling of humanity they once had The futility of it all Vain attempts to regain lost face Or a sold soul But the price is too high Because the most valuable thing you retain After forfeiting your innocence Is your willingness to fight for it back And if you sold that too... There are far too many people Scrambling Pushing to be perfect Or rather To be labeled perfect We say You are only as perfect As those around you perceive you to be And if you play a good game Then you eventually end up winning But winning Is a small reward In return for an overpowering Hubris Your eventual downfall So here we stand Apotheosized because We are perceived as immortal No We are just dead Dead to all popular culture And fashions So we appear Placid as water on a clear day Stoic And so they wonder Why do we not strive to be at the top? The reason is That the top is so small Finite And if we tried We could get there But the top Was not Made For Two
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Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 12:04 AM UTC
Apotheosis
Listen to me, My love, listen to me. The urgent call of your name rings through the air, Like a warning bell being sound off. Loathe the way you wash over my body, Consuming the dark corners of self indulgence, As if you know the culling sways my every move. If you knew the damage, The turmoil, The rot in my brain, That spreads the more I touch you, The more I breathe you in, Poison in the warning bells. I sink lower into these depths, How I will rise, I do not know. But it begins with engaging with my pain As motive. I begin here, Forfeiting my life to the self indulgence I've denied myself.
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Sep 29, 2020
Sep 29, 2020 at 10:27 PM UTC
Engage with Pain as a Motive
I shun you not, You shun me twice. My life for your life, Is becoming more A sacrifice. You greet me not. I greet you twice. I'm the one who's exiled, beguiled, Into forfeiting the price. Become that which you want, I imagine whats gifts I  could bestow, Yet not even bribery can entice me to your soul. I've noted you, AR. In your eyes Ive always seen a star. Ablaze with anger, shining with beauty, I can see them shining even from afar. Little one grown so big, I pray you are well, and blessed, and loved and happy, I love you still, I wonder who and how you are.
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Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 12:51 AM UTC
A R
As she found him She lost herself Everything given Was also taken All these years Devoted to nothing Wasted on promises Drenched in lies When he leaves As he often does What does she have Without him She is connected By words And ideas And ******** Attached With thoughts And strings Leading nowhere Forfeiting happiness To feel alive For one single night As he feels success Devoting her life To someone sick And twisted Who doesn’t give a **** She can only help herself And find herself Rid herself Of this unfair lifestyle
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Aug 10, 2016
Aug 10, 2016 at 12:03 AM UTC
losing him to find yourself
As my Dad used to say. The Truth. Thee. So I made you Lies you cannot be so can Not long stand. Who is great is not mortal. Pretense will fall . A brutal crash but is yet A kindness not least to him who made of his Self a fraud forfeiting his soul for vanity, A Child of God no more that could not long be,
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Jan 3, 2021
Jan 3, 2021 at 3:43 PM UTC
Don't Get too Big for your Britches
I spend my hours lonely Staring at a phone that doesn't ring Lying to myself Pretending not to feel the sting Around my room in laps I pace Because it is hard to stay standing still Restless and anxious I can't concentrate Distress is too strong to **** A tiny part of me is relieved To see you haven't changed at all It makes it easier to stand nt ground When back to you I want to crawl You must be a magician Putting me under a spell With one wave of your wand enchanted Conjuring heaven We're really in hell You keep my adoration in your pocket Instead of in your heart It's obvious I am the only half affected When our lives are forced apart It feels as though I inhabit a cage Only when you disappear Your absence holds me captive Then am freed when you get near Dancing on a narrow line Seperating sense and satiety If I succumb to my shameful desires That means forfeiting my sanity Trapped behind bars inside my brain Cannot escape my expectations Disappointment is inevitable Yet I still surrender to sweet temptation Shades of blue inside and out Mixed with the occasional grey or black All other colors vanished with my trust I'm pretty sure they're not coming back Cloaked in heavy misery Weighs down my overwhelmed soul You don't even have the decency To return all the time that you stole You placed stars directly in my eyes Just so you could watch them burn out Ignorance was comfortable Til you showed me what I now live without Silence chokes with an icy grip Solitude freezes spirit right through my skin No matter how many games you play with my emotions I still participate although it's impossible to win
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Apr 6, 2021
Apr 6, 2021 at 2:10 PM UTC
Lonely Hours
I spend my hours lonely Staring at a phone that doesn't ring Lying to myself Pretending not to feel the sting Around my room in laps I pace Because it is hard to stay standing still Restless and anxious I can't concentrate Distress is too strong to **** A tiny part of me is relieved To see you haven't changed at all It makes it easier to stand nt ground When back to you I want to crawl You must be a magician Putting me under a spell With one wave of your wand enchanted Conjuring heaven We're really in hell You keep my adoration in your pocket Instead of in your heart It's obvious I am the only half affected When our lives are forced apart It feels as though I inhabit a cage Only when you disappear Your absence holds me captive Then am freed when you get near Dancing on a narrow line Seperating sense and satiety If I succumb to my shameful desires That means forfeiting my sanity Trapped behind bars inside my brain Cannot escape my expectations Disappointment is inevitable Yet I still surrender to sweet temptation Shades of blue inside and out Mixed with the occasional grey or black All other colors vanished with my trust I'm pretty sure they're not coming back Cloaked in heavy misery Weighs down my overwhelmed soul You don't even have the decency To return all the time that you stole You placed stars directly in my eyes Just so you could watch them burn out Ignorance was comfortable Til you showed me what I now live without Silence chokes with an icy grip Solitude freezes spirit right through my skin No matter how many games you play with my emotions I still participate although it's impossible to win
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