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Imagination forged a man worthy of a goddess' heart
But man is man, and man is flawed and so his sin tore her apart
Spenser Bennett Jun 2016
And that man swung like
the tire we rode into the
golden sunset of my youth
a stranger to beauty

I can still hear them
Calling out an empty name
Once you're gone do
you keep your truth

In quiet moments of
Crystal reflection
I often wonder if
I could be him

A soul so lost
Forgone the waiting
Choose my last and
Step away into nothing

But I remember
Those empty smiling eyes
That shrill wailing proves
Nothing beautiful may stay
Rob Rutledge May 2015
What words would Winter whisper,
When the last warm rays
Of sweet Summer sister
Have shone beyond forgone horizons?
His hands clasp blistered,
Embraced by the rhythm of fate.
Love conquers all but his envy is great,

And it grows,

And it blows,

And the Winds are rising,

Giving voice to once silent trees.
Through the maelstrom
Winter watches.
A feeble man on bended knees
Cradles the embers of fire.
Winter froze with desire
While stunned by despair,
That even man could find warmth
While his sky lay frozen and bare.
BJ Donovan Sep 25
7th wedding anniversary and we eat dinner
     at our fave. Filet Mignon and trimmings.

     I meet the most beautiful woman ever.
     Biology freaks out and I'm alive again.

     Torrid love affair and kid's birthday party
     and never fooling anyone I break in two.

     I'm gallant and break it off and come home.
     No going back I'm alone. Forgone conclusion.
How can you ever trust a broken promise of love again?
A fueling, flashing fulgent, furnace, fulgurous, frothy, fumes and feathery flakes,

I do not speak of waves of snow, hoary frost, or ice, a cold gelare or even frozen lakes!

Formidable, furrows, fructifying, functioning fruition to foremost fondly found a flaming,

I revel not in such destruction but choices for my naming!

For flowers flow fields forever, forswearing funneling fjords finitely, fire fray’s forests furthermost,

Instructing in the arts of language, for I am your gracious host!

Fakir formulates factious forms fading flummoxed into fury, a fugacious fusible and furtive fleeting feigning furiosity,

A deep ditch dug, tight as pug, wrapped blanket snub though not a flub, all perspicacity!

Finds frosty frore a frozen freezing faction for fusty flaming feasance,

Fomorian fantasy of formidable faggoting, facient up to fancying, fancying, furnaced flesh fluidity finds itself factitivity, facets for fabulists from the faint familiarity,

Relating cold to heat as such, requires but a human touch, apologize I do you see for all my clueless severity!

Fans of all the falconry, who fallow fields of family, falter for a fallacy, falling into infamy as forgone flame frontogenesis, fatigues a Faustian felony, for which fate finds is fastigiated foolery, febrile features featly and yet furiously, favonian fear of fellowship fiendishly, figures foal to fatherly, finally fiddle flinchingly, although not so too furtively;

I finagle in my filigree!
This contains nearly every word under 'F' in the dictionary. I would have used them all but I could not get a consistent story with all the words so I used the most possible. Wauhermes in Toto means, "The totality of thought about F."
CK Marrow Dec 2016
Muted color
On darkest day                                          
There was a light
to show the way

In dreary towns
My eyes were bound
To the misty lights
Up on the cloud

What is that phenomenon?
Where did it go?
The place we are seeking
We shall never know.

As our eyes droop down
And our smiles go flat,
It is easy to see
That we shall never go back

To that muted color
On that darkest day
Where that light to guide us
Showed the way

Immortality is over
We are now doomed
To succumb to our future
As our destinies loomed.

As we were shot down
To the pits of Tartarus
My fate was no longer

We were forgone
Forever to roam
The pitch black world
Always to moan

That muted color
On darkest day
Was unfortunately one
To never stay
Fidel Nov 2018
I’ve been losing sleep,
You say you need to lose weight,
But all this running through my mind should have worked just fine,
Our friends tell me we can’t be good for each other,
But all I can see is how great your smile makes me feel I wonder
Will I ever live to see you?
See you hold my hand by the beach in Australia,
You know how much I love koalas
But for your love I’d give up a thousand just to call you mine for a second in my life,
Your love as a friend is the best, the best, the best I’ve ever had,
For that alone I want to call you mine,
Even if that includes another bruise in my mind, just another to the side,
Maybe for you,
But for me number 60 seems great, great so so great,
Because I know if with you I make love,
It would all be different,
For once and first I would love you til the end of time,

I would, I would **** my vibe,
Would quit the drinking just to see you sober,
Drunk you seem the greatest but only sober do I know who you are,
My one and only, forever mine but only sober will I know you aren’t mine,
I’ve killed to live, killed the other guy who smoked and cried to be the man you deserved but you don’t see the angel that I love,
You got the perfect smile,
Most perfect set of eyes,
Tell me what you like and I’ll write a poem to make you and live the fortune of seeing you smile,
Hugging you felt like drinking *****,
So cold but burnt me because ****, I love you.
I’ve looked from every point and perspective, but I can’t see you as the villain,
So did she tell me, you would steal me and I would never call her again,
This is all Deja Vu, because I love you but you tell me this could never work,
Platonic solemnly, not to raise my hopes and play my feelings like that ***,
Just please tell me honey, would you love me,
If all the rest was lost and forgotten?
Because even if so I would still be there, to hold you after another one played your heart,
Just because my love is real and forgone,
All because you been hurt and forgone by many that came to go and leave your life with a scar but I’m here to stay until you make me go,
Then I’ll forever be gone but just until you call me back to ask for help of which I will with all my mighty fight to succeed at making you happy,
But this is all it,
This is all Deja Vu, I feel like I’ve said this before because I would give you all that’s nothing just to make you smile and see you work it,
Doesn’t matter how hard to be and how long it might take me to do it,
I might finish after your wish is gone but even then I’ll restart just to make sure you are still wishing,
Wish all the wishes just make sure none of them include me leaving your life,
Because I brought my bags and from here I don’t wanna move,
I’ll go on a trip to take some pics,
Write a cute couple lines,
Just to see that smile of yours,
That for so long I’ve been staring through a screen and don’t check the analysis because its all a cover for you not to question.
Adele Sep 2018
Years had passed
I see yonder,
Withered leaves on the ground
And dyed coffee envelopes
With an old Paris stamp that marks the date of 1934
It sits beside a dismal brown bitten apple
In a small abode
In the mammoth province of Branderburg Prussia
The rickety Tudor house cries in silence
The ghost of the past beseeched to be free
Cobwebs stifled my hands
In opening the forgone mail
Bundles that haven’t received by the receiver
“Let’s ride the rails”, he said
The young deep voice echoed in my head
My weak knees quivered
“We should get going” the two ladies in white scrubs held my arms
One step at time, we went in the wheels
That would take me back to this new place
I could never call home
The declination of the economy and the war broke us
But the memory didn’t die, it never did
derailed-trains Nov 2018
the amnesia lane to my heart is littered with derailed trains and debris from car collisions/ the stop signs now read tried and tired/ i'm struggling to go on every time i am reminded that things have gone awry/ but i really tried, you know?/ because i had high hopes in the beginning that we could make this work/ i went to the cemetery to mourn for all the time i wasted/ and all the chances i forgone where i could've treated myself better/ these self-loathing sessions keep coming in waves like how downpours go on for days/ sometimes it holds me hostage indoors/ but some days i dance in the rain
so how's failing at life going?
BJ Donovan Jan 4
I was a forgone conclusion.
    I always am. I'll blow through
    her life like thunder and wind
    and wild downpours. She'll awaken
    glad the storm has passed but
    missing the chaos of feeling alive.
    I was an afterthought,
    misbegotten, ill advised,
    rounding error, fly in ointment,
    broken guitar string, square peg,
    beautiful rose with thorny stem
    impossible to hold onto. Mistake.
Her folks breathe a sigh glad
    for the quiet but for her soft sobs.
Mark Aug 2018
Forgone into the nether realms of grief
with piths embalming loves' corrosive drear.
Bemused; for worldly plush negates relief,
If woes be - known; how differed earths veneer?

Verdure would tinge a molten shade of lime
the oaks will mourn their leaves, and cease the Spring's
with wilting plumes adrift the songbirds prime
and dimmed the sun as dark as lovelorn brings.

For pebbled hues of grey will shroud the skies
and cursive lacquer; etch this sickly mold,
the winds will howl forebodes of vows and lies,
no more shall grace nurture upon this wold.

This suffered love cascades and dwells as deep
if even touched by Gods - would thunder weep.
Ten's and thousand's of feeling's some too deep ,
Some so superficial they don't seep .
What you sow so
shall you reap !

Feeling's stuffed in the mind pressuring the heart , be a little kind .
Get not fooled by the emotions , they create only commotions .
why pine for a heart to weep?
What you sow so shall you reap!

A sensitive heart is a unhappy possession on this shaken earth,
Make no mistake for it has little worth.
Drift not from being strong in doing so there is no harm .
Feeling's create a puzzling leap.
What you sow so shall you reap!

Pick your choices with care,
Feeling's bring a emotional flair.
First you are hurt and then you dare , a vicious cycle made bare.
Count your blessings and a promise forgone I speak,
what you sow so shall you reap!

Misty eyes and a heavy heart
Feeling's are life's integral part.
With twists and bends leading to dead ends.
Through the tales of time as one would want to sleep
What you sow so shall you reap!

© Mrunalini .D. Nimbalkar
Feeling's create your life's story for what you think and act ,will return back in the same manner.
Repetition verse
ana Jan 13
a faded moon in the sky
the meteor showers cry
alone in the dark cold night
an emblem fire so cold yet bright
a bright star alone
forgotten and forgone
still, yet wavering
undeciding and cowering
a dreadful heartache felt to the bottom
everyone expects her to be strong
but she is not strong
like every, she falls
in the dark corner of the sky
there she lay,
the moon goddess in slumber
pretty as an ember
no one understands
yet she craves warmth
in the deepest depths of the earth
she wanders
longing for the same touch
longing for another phase of the moon
her cries fills the ocean
whails of agony creates storm
her tears twinkle amongst the horizon
with this she realizes
those who are near her are close yet so far
so close but yet so different
with every difference hurts
with every insult hurts
every put downs hurt
she laments in her own sorrows for no one understands
for she herself doesnt understand
what is the world when no one cares for her
she has no porpuse
no will
what are the richest and all the pearls in the sea when there are no one to share it with
she can only express her sorrows to those she feels safe to, yet those she feels safe towards doesnt understand
she longs her family but they deny her the warmth and love
like the sun they crave adventure and fun
like the wildfire they cut down woods and trees she planted
the sun mocks her gardens yet nourishes her flowers
with every delight comes a price
with every laughter comes cries
she fills herself with these emotions just to be taken away
with no foundation she struggles to find ground
she longs for bueaty and peace
they long for destruction and power
she longs for things to go smoothly like the river
they long for things to burn out in smoke
just like that, she burned in fire
she lacks warmth
she lacks vitality and soul
yet she needs these things but it burns her
the close she gets to the sun the more burnt she gets
she pretends not to care
she feels great pressure from a dam that cannot let go
she feels it from her mother whos holding by a knife
she finds her way,
but whichever way she turns she doesn't belong
she only truly feels safe by herself
she cannot fathom the day that she will no longer need or want her family
her family is all she has
she loves them
yet her family is bringing her down
she feels trapped and confused
with nowhere to go
the moon goddess cries in the dark
her whails echoes throughout the night
waking the wolf and the owls
all howling and hooting
she cries for help but no one comes
Spiralize Oct 2018
Nostalgic dreams are here to stay
Longer than expected,they will be
Rain triggers the dreams within
Peaceful is the silence after the rain.

Long drives with radio playing along
All those days are long forgone
Wandering the mountains for serenity
Surviving the odds for an eternity.

Stuck in between two doors
This room is all that is left
Warm is the air but a cold floor
Get out of the chaos. To find more.

Destination was never a priority
What's life without surprises
The Eagle might be ruling the skies
But the Phoenix rises from the ashes.

Rise up again after its death
Looking for a slight breath
Wind calls you by your name
Life is nothing but a game.

Rain is beautiful when thoughtless
Autumn is when we find solace
Inbetween all the innumerable thoughts
Staying awake connected to the roots.

Don't be shy to cry out loud
But never among the crowd
There is a boundary with a spiked fence
Remain serene amidst of turbulence.
As silence calmed and evening reigned
she ceased to note the hour of day.

She fell as guest to natures arms
with crowns of apprehension flown
she entered her Elysium.

In sleep her garlands of reserve
with transient petulance forgone.

In innocence of pride and wealth
and faculty of thought regained
she woke in festal light.
Harsha Sep 2018
I confessed my adoration declaring my undying affection along with my true intentions
You declined most gracefully (clear and concise)
Narrating you do not share the same sentiments, (it was a forgone conclusion)
Letting me down eventually yet elevating my spirits every time you smile;  
If you reciprocated even a decimal point of devotion or a fraction of affinity I hold for you
Metaphorically speaking it would acquire the vast space that now occupy all the stars in the known cosmos
For my affection towards you ran across time through galaxies extending throughout the infinite interstellar, finally resonating to the heavens unsettling angels and almighty god  

In space time is redundant; direction hold no relevance and gravity is absent
Similar to the romantic intentions you have for me – literally none existent
You will always occupy that pedestal you once accused me I have erroneously placed you on
I will always hold the candle for you, step off a bridge if you asked me to

I would rather deserve medals and not have them; than to have medals and not deserve them
Very much like you – case and point
Maybe you are like the sunset I only have the privilege of admiring its magnificence from a far
But never to retain it for myself I have to let go once the dusk disappear giving way to the stars

But I like to still envision; let my imagination run rampant; then contemplate in accordance to the   “Many Worlds Theory” that somewhere in the unknown multiverse, vibrating in a different frequency, we co-exist ecstatically ; now living & sharing an apartment in New York city; enjoying Chinese takeaway drinking cheap wine while listening to all your favourite songs from the nineties.  (Specially the Goo Goo Dolls, The Verve and Matchbox Twenty)
Seriously doubting my creativity questioning my writing skills due to the outcome and final print of this ballad i fear it got too personal, hence look forward to some constructive criticism from my usual suspects: 0
J R Cramer Dec 2018
Had I known I’d make it this far,

Would I have taken better care?

Would I have walked by one bar?

Passed on one affair?

Declined a chemical adjustment?

Favored good sense over whim?

Deferred to my better judgement?

Forgone ribeye for kale so grim?

Of course not.

Assuming only survival had confirmation

And the aftermath of each decision

Were still open to speculation,

There would be no need for revision.
Suspending loss or gain,

And ignoring others’ wrath,

The fact that I remain

Confirms the virtue of my path.

Well, that may be going too far,

But, unrepentant, I’m already there.

Strange faith in fate served me well, so far

And pulled me through without a care.

Yet my waywardness in both fact and fame

Was no less reckless, no less wild

Than of friends fallen in this game

Some so young - less man, more child.

I’ve indeed fared better

Than friends of long ago

Who broke through every fetter

Unwilling the prized cheese to forego

And in a headlong rush

Lunged,  heedless of the twang and snap

And fell to the deadly crush

0f fate’s cold steel trap.

Spring-loaded, compelling,

The trap holds undeniable sway,

But upon that I won’t be dwelling

While I have cheese enough for today.

Was I lucky?  Doubtless so.

Was I canny in avoiding fate?

I guess, but how much, who could know?

So there are no values to equate,

And no formula for a survivor’s guide

To having one’s cake and eating it, too.

Such book would be hailed far and wide

A bestseller!  But patently untrue.

The truth is that I have no idea

Why I’m now facing longevity,

Why, against all odds, I’m still here

In defiance of expected brevity.

So maybe I’m just the Second Mouse,

Distracted, wandering o’er the map,

Drifting from room to room, house to house

Appearing just after some unlucky sprung the trap.

At that point, what for me remains

But to show respect, doff my hat

And set to the work that pertains

To cheese management and growing fat.

My fate will arrive, neither too soon nor too late

An unknowable appointment’s been set,

‘Til then the whys and hows prove pointless debate

While I have good company and cheese enough yet.
Rain is refreshing in a strange, backward way. It shocks you out of a deep, prolific lapse of participation in reality and reminds you that you’re still here. You’re still corporeal, tangible, you can feel and you can decide. But rain is still rain. It can be cold and unpleasant to be faced with, or it can be warm and welcoming. Beconing you forth to splash and smile in the reality you forgot still applied to you.
    I left behind the idea of full, around the clock consciousness during my last frigid thunderstorm. I realized, during a session already dedicated to realizations, how exhausting it was trying to live my reality to its current extent. How frustrating and soul-crushing it is to have the ambition you truly believed in and planned to embark upon, forgone by the limits of a situation you have no control over. I kept a small jar of ideas and plans in the very back corner of my closet. They were safe, they couldn’t be taken out back and shot nor could they be taunted and destroyed from the inside out. When I was cornered in my intruded closet, when I was taken by the collar and shaken for my truth, they were found. Both above-mentioned circumstances played out shortly but in the opposite order. That’s when it began to rain.
    I decided on an alternative: selective awareness. I keep myself alive only feeling and participating when the rain is tepid and pleasant. When I feel the temperature beginning to drop, I fall back asleep, floating through lull and lash, until the sun comes to change the course of my simulation. For days, all I will see is fog. I’m lost and isolated, but that lack of direction comes with an onset of contentedness. There is no one who can see me wandering through a deluded course I have set for myself. I don’t know where I’m walking, I don’t know what’s in front of me, so the warm rain will give me a pleasant surprise as it melts away the fog and gives me hope for sustainable warmth.
    The cloudiness that lingers in my head, even when I’m experiencing kindness and sensitivity, reminds me that my effort to make my reality more livable is as viable as staying completely shrouded in fog until I wander off the edge of a cliff. Eventually, as I age out of my simulation, I’ll have skin thick enough to withstand the hailstorm I’ll be forced to reckon with. Resilience is necessary, but hope exists. I often forget it does while I’m wondering, but serenity and light remind me that fog isn’t all I’ve devolved into. Rain will come, and so will spring.
sandra wyllie Apr 18
Drinking the poison to **** someone else
Going around dazed in circles
Hooked on the past
Hate is cast

Truths you didn’t share
Shrouded fear
Injustice and broken trust
Playing the victim, a must

Never allowing acceptance
or forgiveness
Oscillating between an angered past
and a fearful future
What these wounds need is a suture

Feeling strong about being wronged
Trying to take back power
All you do is sour
any light that could be shed upon it

Slamming into your own stone walls
because you won’t forgone it
Being imprisoned by imagined beliefs
Here it comes - the happiness thief
No one will ever do this to me again!
Giving up the Zen
syncopation Jul 10
There are days I wish
My feet could firmly plant into the grounds of time
And furnish roots into its fertile soil of blessings eternally mine

And close my eyes and will away its current and its tide
That propels my physical body forward while my soul stays rooted inside

Closing the mind, turning it to stone
While basking in an abyss of yesteryears and days forgone

Until the day you open your eyes and see the blinding truth
There’s no winning time for it will always rob your youth

You may have fooled yourself briefly resisting time’s wordly charms  
But immortalizing moments past will only do you harm

For when you awake from your stupor filled slumber
You will awake to days outnumbered

But by then it’s too late
Are you ready to step out on to your plank of fate?

— The End —