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"fortification" poems
The alarm woke me up Constant beeping by my head It just wont shut up But I think I'll stay in bed There's a snooze button for a reason and that reason today is me I'll try to be gentle nextime Mr Snooze And not hit you so forcefully. My bed is my kingdom the scorching sun seiges My curtains' my fortification's already breached I admit my defeat and go see whats in the fridge
0
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 6:44 PM UTC
My kingdom for a sandwich
Conflicted, conflicted My mind so encrypted There is no escape, my memories inflicted Pouring through thoughts as my emotions drifted Searching for absolution, through sands of sorrow I've sifted Conflicted, conflicted My spirit isn't lifted Entombed from mistakes wondering what I did Errors and consequences and a farewell I do bid Conflicted, conflicted Thoughts and emotions contradicted Standing here hollowed, my heart evicted Still is the world, not much to be gifted Error, error Fear and terror Time to shut down or be lost all over Again and again with my soul torn asunder Error, error Shut down or be caught by despair To late, it's here, it caught me unaware The damage is absolute with no way to repair Error, error It will never be better Not a shred of care Caught in Medusa's stare Begin rebooting sequence Letting shutdown commence Countdown has begun Five, four, three, two, one Nothing but darkness Soul as a black screen filled with emptiness Clearing all of my thoughts, my whole head If I didn't reboot, I'd be as good as dead Startup commence Beginning with mental defense Fortification complete Open emotional files, hit delete Blank canvas and nothing more An empty shell of what I was before It will happen again and again It will stop, but nobody knows when I am a blank slate but in the depths of my mind Are the thoughts and feelings I wish I could leave behind
0
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 2:45 PM UTC
Conflicted
Water take no cleansing action to his detention That has felt no remorse for the notion of vindication Foolish mentality, child without maturity Lead by impulse, and lulled by a narcissist Sitting there like gravity has given you control Ignorant individual entrapped with your own soul Take one moment, talk, not to her but for her Exactly what was your discourse, are you her Did you act on juvenile inclination or fortification Subconsciously lost to wicked temptation Sincerely do you have a mental hindrance I’m subjecting to name-calling because of this dance Who are you following what are you allowing Your letting the past mold your thinking Don’t get defensive you made the offensive Your know the history, yet you let lust be submissive “Go back” that is what you lack, the thought to review And guide your way through and accept you’re flawed
0
Jan 31, 2010
Jan 31, 2010 at 11:37 AM UTC
an evitable purging
Succubus why Torment and Torture me, is it Savvy to get your Immoral ****** satisfaction from Incubus, am Human with Blood in my Veins, my Zing isn't akin to your Zeal succubus, Your Presence is Subtle, would you Deign to Leave me Alone, God's Succor and Fortification is all it Takes, and no Day will I ever Fret about you, Though you're Fractitious Opposite of me Frail, But through the Struggle, I stand to Gain, De Jure am supposed to be FREE not a *** slave, Self assured with Fortitude I'll Reach my Zenith...... @miamizoliver
0
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 8:56 AM UTC
"DOOMS DAY SUCCUBUS"
from the eye wall thoughts of imminent rain banked clouds assemble black and ominous with saturated breath will not be denied their time to rage against the numbness of each little death barometers fall coastal fortification futile sandbagging forlorn gestures against the flood a tropical depression jet-streaming blue wild moon tide to desolate shore precipitation gray accomplice faithful torrent stratified walls erode sodden wood, bone unbalanced homes collapse gracelessly no match for gravity or the merciless sea
0
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 12:43 PM UTC
Pressure
Christmas, Christmas, Christmas Urggg yrgggg yrgggg urggg, the songs are like a clogged bell streaming depressive used sounds Hymns of abused commercialisation As an excuse of mixed celebrations Christmas, Christmas, Christmas Urggg yrgggg yrgggg urggg, you remain dead for long time ago when my heart changed into stone and my dance a faded fortification in opened doors of the unreached Christmas, Christmas,Christmas Urggg yrgggg yrgggg urggg, a season where enemies embrace with a tint of lost meshed generosity That flavoured distasteful laughter Coated with silvery decorations Christmas, Christmas, Christmas Urggg, yrgggg yrgggg urggg, a shaw of the dying tower blocks Overlooking hunger and troubled war that height of starry driven nights Casting shadows to the chilled earth Christmas, Christmas, Christmas Urgg, yrgggg yrgggg urggg, The trees are felled to make cards with anthems of a failed system the tide of the recycled messages of happy tidings, fill the bellies ehhh
0
Dec 24, 2016
Dec 24, 2016 at 1:17 AM UTC
Urgggh Christmas! (The Scrooge Version)
He is the Colosseum, With high walls built up that have withstood centuries of harsh winds and violent storms. He is looked upon with such admiration, this looming citadel of aestheticism, and is unmatched in any respect. All who pass pay reverence to this fortress of great strength. At first, navigating the Colosseum is a daunting task, But as I started to wander down his narrow hallways and stroll past his looming arches, I began to learn my way around and figure out just what it was that made him so magnificent. And then, Thank the Deities, I wandered upon the brilliant stadium of his heart. But sadly I came to realize that behind his stable facade was a decaying sight, for his walls were crumbling on the inside. The stones that were built to protect his fragile insides served a different purpose, to mock him of the storms that have hurt him in the past. He was hidden behind this fortification and writhed in the cold darkness, alone and scared. He was afraid to go out and fight, convinced that the violent storms outside that have battered him so, will surely come again. I pity his soul, for having to take the time to put up each monstrous pillar, put down every concrete block, and fill every crack with cement. He felt that this was necessary in order to be sure that no evil forces could hurt him ever again; He was filled with hatred for the world because of what it had done to him. But as a dedicated warrior, I musn't let him be scared any longer. He has been gracious enough to let me into his life, into his amphitheater of a soul. He is my Apollo, and I want to show him how beautiful the cosmos can be. So I will be his gladiator, and fight for his name.
0
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 8:34 PM UTC
Apollo
He is the Colosseum, With high walls built up that have withstood centuries of harsh winds and violent storms. He is looked upon with such admiration, this looming citadel of aestheticism, and is unmatched in any respect. All who pass pay reverence to this fortress of great strength. At first, navigating the Colosseum is a daunting task, But as I started to wander down his narrow hallways and stroll past his looming arches, I began to learn my way around and figure out just what it was that made him so magnificent. And then, Thank the Deities, I wandered upon the brilliant stadium of his heart. But sadly I came to realize that behind his stable facade was a decaying sight, for his walls were crumbling on the inside. The stones that were built to protect his fragile insides served a different purpose, to mock him of the storms that have hurt him in the past. He was hidden behind this fortification and writhed in the cold darkness, alone and scared. He was afraid to go out and fight, convinced that the violent storms outside that have battered him so, will surely come again. I pity his soul, for having to take the time to put up each monstrous pillar, put down every concrete block, and fill every crack with cement. He felt that this was necessary in order to be sure that no evil forces could hurt him ever again; He was filled with hatred for the world because of what it had done to him. But as a dedicated warrior, I musn't let him be scared any longer. He has been gracious enough to let me into his life, into his amphitheater of a soul. He is my Apollo, and I want to show him how beautiful the cosmos can be. So I will be his gladiator, and fight for his name.
Continue reading...
20
I was Dreaming of You My Lover The Anticipaticipation of Our Intimacy I was wishing for Your Strong Arms to hold Me Lips so soft and Wet Anticipating being Taken Wonton for your touch Giving back and Forth Forth and Back Till completely Spent I believed we were Connected Dreamt of Moments Ahead Looking forward to Mutual Gratification Was Dreaming the Best Dream Yet Soft, Cool, Clean, Crisp Sheets Pillows upon pillows To rest my Head Leaving the Weariness Of My Body Melting softly into Bed The Anticipation   Even if just for a Day Experiencing your Presence Exploring each other in every way Relaxation, Contemplatinion, Re- Fortification Time Suspended Melding together Exquisite Wonder of Each Other The Oneness of Us Under A Canopy of Stars         Copyright © 2014 Christi Michaels. All Rights Reserved
0
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 12:07 PM UTC
Under A Canopy of Stars
*fortification through vulnerability strength's dichotomy*
0
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 10:54 PM UTC
A Personal Keep
I am sick of wasting my energy Convincing people that I am deserving of their affection That I am deserving of love from those who I want it most. All they've done is take and demand more. Slightest afflictions would send me profusely apologizing. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. When I owe nothing of the sorts. You say I betrayed you, but you stopped talking first. You say I left you behind but I don't recall your footprints by mine. You're life has changed and you hate that. I'm just a reminder of what your life used to be like. I am not responsible for your happiness, yet you mar mine. You didn't want to hurt alone, so you ensured I'd hurt too. I let the numbness wash over calluses form on my heart, roughly applied. The first time hurts, but eventually it hurts a little less. Blisters form until that thick patch of skin builds up and my patience wears down, and now my empathy can be short-lived. We swapped roses, unaware yours had thorns. I pricked my finger and now the yellow is stained with red and skin will need to be cleaned and bandaged and the heart continues to be broken despite increased fortification. I thought what doesn't **** you makes you stronger, that it creates perseverance. And it does, but it hardens the soft in spirit and my patience is no longer there for you. And leaving gets easier. Saying goodbye gets easier And it hurts a little less. I care a little less. And I don't know if that is a good thing or a bad thing.
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Mar 7, 2023
Mar 7, 2023 at 7:19 PM UTC
Betrayed
i caught the plague every second hazy every minute vague so well balanced this tribulation that it affects every nation worthless is the medication unless taken with fortification drunken reeling useless feeling pitiless luck...ummm... fruitless duck? ahhhh **** no wait, wait... i got it now adenoidal cow? hormonal sow? the far back reaches of the here and now... the stern of the boat but now the bow.. free blow jobs for Chairman Mao i'm trying to finish this **** but how? rhyming is fun until its not sorry for this ****** poem but no one will read it anyway... sincerely, Marge Schott
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Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 12:37 AM UTC
i'm a mindless idiot...
The statuesque stones were once placed in a circle so grand Safely surrounding the secrets hidden within Perchance as protection from the distribution of inequity That raged from the inner recesses of man An infinite hedge of fortification so majestic in its defense Still stands proudly holding all the secrets within Perhaps of the cycles of life or passing of time Heatedly debated for ages by man So many have come to observe this mystical circle To meditate upon its original plan Oblivious to the fact that what could be so simple Can often be perplexing to man These statuesque stones still bravely defend the secrets While the mystified onlookers stare Believing if the reason were simple for their existence It would be such a sad and distressing affair
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Jun 19, 2010
Jun 19, 2010 at 9:34 PM UTC
Simplicity
Take my love as a shield: To protect you in times of strife From the rages of war, From the sands of time. Take my love as a shield: Bulwark of the ages, Stalwart of the weak, Aegis of support. This shield does not break: Unyielding fortification, Knight of the rose, Knight against night. This shield does not shatter: Impenetrable fortress, Sight of safety, Home of hearth and heart. Take my love as a shield: For you I live, For you I protect, For you I adore. Take my love as a shield For it’s all I can give. It’s worth fighting for; It’s worth dying for. Even if I break and shatter, My fortifications crumble And my fortress is overcome Take my love as a shield To protect you from my night For I am a weak knight; I am at war with myself- Take my love as a shield.
0
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 5:40 AM UTC
Take my love as a shield
Just Days Before XMAS I’m up on a Sunday morning so early that only the church goers are out on Spruce St. But I do not believe. I’m not singing along with my favorite songs. I don’t know that they are still my favorites. I’m ************ onto faces that aren’t there. Don’t remember throwing that desk through that wall. Don’t remember being that strong. Ever. I do remember wanting to see you **** her last night. I’m sorry. I see people chiseling off the glaze of morning-ice from their shiny, leathery luxuries. Mine’s from my ***** hair I napped too long outside. I ask them if they would like my help. “Excuse me sir, my mind’s not right (I’m in a bad place [right now]).” I get home to sleep in a fortification that I don’t know. Surrounded by people that I’m even less familiar with. And I wonder why I didn’t crash my car going 400mph. into the back of that electric trolley that looked more like a nostalgic toy than something to ride upon. Look at me: I drive a V6. I sleep until I am ***** again. Not hungry, ***** I **** myself with a grip that borderline feels like yours I wake up so late on a Sunday afternoon that I couldn’t possibly call myself a football fan. I love the Dolphins.
0
Jun 17, 2010
Jun 17, 2010 at 7:18 PM UTC
Just Days Before X-Mas
Ochre scrubbed ebony skin Wooden jewelery here and there Picture perfect beauty in simplicity She walked in moral fortification - fashioned in decency Hardwork and wisdom was her charm Barefeet and weighted with firewood on her head Pots and baskets she juggled in hands and through scorching heat she focussed ahead the dessert sand burning her feet Not once did she say it was a plight She was proud to be a woman The keeper of men and children Through rain through sunshine cooperating with her man's other woman She worked for survival of all Getting up in the first light of day Submitting and respecting Raising her children in acceptable ways She was the unglorified worrior A war hero could not fit her shoe But she didnt have that shoe So she smiled and made her man happy, and her children
0
Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 7:28 AM UTC
The African Woman
Let's runaway You and me. Just you and me. Just like how we dreamt, Just the way we always wanted. In one of those long trains, That takes us to destiny. Along with the other bunch of curious eyes, Ours being the brightest, Hand in hand, lovey dovey, Blending with stardust, Let's get lost in our dreams. Come, Lets runaway From all these planned chaos, Organised crimes, so called selfless responsibilities. Let's free ourselves from this cage. This cage, locked by the society. We've gotta escape it. Not like those dewdrops slipping through the leaf, But like the warriors breaking through the fortification. Come, Lets runaway, I don't know where Let's just run till we find our destination. Inevitably this will be a long run, But this will never be tiring Because we are together. We will be tormented with storms Don't be scared, we are together. We will survive the storm. When the journey gets harder Don't be flustered, never step back. Hold my hand tight, we'll be fine. Trust me, this is what our every single heartbeat wished for. Every breath out of our lungs went in search of this quest. Lets get it and feed our souls. Come, Lets run away.
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Jul 22, 2019
Jul 22, 2019 at 2:31 PM UTC
Let's runaway
I am going in for another round or two Come February I will be romancing giant textbooks I am going to have my ***** deep in academia again There's a new postgraduate student in town! In a way this is part of my master plan to defer the reality of being ****** into the hideous job market My relentless fruitless search for employment has left me disheartened and somewhat regretful Though at the very end of the day I am proud of my accomplishment I did it for me What isn't immediately forthcoming is no reason for me to forget why I embarked on this quest for education And why I held on It is something no one can take away from me The satisfaction of feeding your brain with knowledge is some kind of high This is of course debatable Perhaps I hide behind these books As if they offer me fortification Not letting anyone in An ice queen of note but you can't cuddle 2 degrees And you cannot share a meal with either For things to fall into place I am going to be needing a rather potent antidote for my general lameness.
0
Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 6:57 PM UTC
Of Academia
Suffocating in this state of mind Like a grain of soil On the wall of a perpetually filling Bottomless pit. All stale and collapsing mud. I can’t breathe And it is dark in here In this silence In this wet and stifling ***** blanket Of thin smiles That veil filth and dirt. Gritty, I can taste discontent ( restlessness stirred, agitated, weeping) Like a thorn in the side Of this torn and invisibly stitched mouth. My fingers bleed And doubt seeds Vicious weeds inside An already sick and nauseated mind. There is hurt in here And pain And the bittersweet unspoken refrain Of one lost in their Own directionless Domain. These walls I built, alone. That stare back careless And greet me daily with their Cold embrace. In this darkness, alone, I, us, we, cry. Small children, Whimpering in this feeling of self chafed friction. Whining, each whine followed by Gutteral, viscous, primal mutterings These madman Me, myself and i Locked in a tunnel Without light It is cold and we want so badly To relight the fire I claw at the fortification I have erected Around myself Then bleed some more Until the walls in front of me turn from la mort noire to rouge de sang Sitting here In this Abyss. Blinded by the inability to see The incapacity to feel Anything but the feeling of failure. This powerlessness to heal, All sealed up and drowning in my private pool of mud. Still it is dark in here, And wet, And bloodied And brooding. The cold walls are soothing And the veil still acts To conceal The extent of filth Scourging up the walls Of this inaudible and bidding cave.
0
Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 7:38 PM UTC
rouge de sang
Suffocating in this state of mind Like a grain of soil On the wall of a perpetually filling Bottomless pit. All stale and collapsing mud. I can’t breathe And it is dark in here In this silence In this wet and stifling ***** blanket Of thin smiles That veil filth and dirt. Gritty, I can taste discontent ( restlessness stirred, agitated, weeping) Like a thorn in the side Of this torn and invisibly stitched mouth. My fingers bleed And doubt seeds Vicious weeds inside An already sick and nauseated mind. There is hurt in here And pain And the bittersweet unspoken refrain Of one lost in their Own directionless Domain. These walls I built, alone. That stare back careless And greet me daily with their Cold embrace. In this darkness, alone, I, us, we, cry. Small children, Whimpering in this feeling of self chafed friction. Whining, each whine followed by Gutteral, viscous, primal mutterings These madman Me, myself and i Locked in a tunnel Without light It is cold and we want so badly To relight the fire I claw at the fortification I have erected Around myself Then bleed some more Until the walls in front of me turn from la mort noire to rouge de sang Sitting here In this Abyss. Blinded by the inability to see The incapacity to feel Anything but the feeling of failure. This powerlessness to heal, All sealed up and drowning in my private pool of mud. Still it is dark in here, And wet, And bloodied And brooding. The cold walls are soothing And the veil still acts To conceal The extent of filth Scourging up the walls Of this inaudible and bidding cave.
Continue reading...
77
Auburn introversion Will by its arm hold on Stationary sanction A constant fissure line Coming insurrection Feathered scavengers intrude For complete cessation Between the vein and valve Cutlass complication Devised the elements Defiled justification Wilt into a hardened blame Fuller indentation Wreak an engulfed compliance Its gestation A bitter control Chipping fortification Nails its own mimic Boweled duplication Inflicts compounding mirrors Slowed decimation From flesh unwilling Adorn fancification A scream its teeth Separation Impending with haste The nullification By removing all proof Divination Demand nothing less By holy vindication Come clean and silenced One simplification As fall essence from claw Heavy by degradation Left behind lessons A home desperation Cleansed opened to breathe Now that implication Is taken in the wind
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Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 2:50 AM UTC
Final Hold
this place where peace of mind is a material device where its tangible depth can be measured in more than words this fortification of stout heart and decided mind i fall back to reside here for a moments reprise from the clash of the seeming armed conflict that must rage about this place you cannot have dark without light peace without war isn't peace of mind measured by the conflict around it isn't the measure of a mans serenity in the struggles he must endure to achieve i fall back to this segue between dark of ignorant bliss and the blinding incandescence of misinterpretation of that so called enlightenment peace of mind is a state difficult to discover because it cannot be truly achieved it is the illusion of sophistry peace can be found in small amounts in the laughter and love of friends and family in the arms of a lover in the warm sun of summer's day in the grandeur of summer night
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Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 1:30 PM UTC
amounts of peace
At least there is consistency in emotional recidivism. Criminality you can depend on. Vacant words. Hollow *** Empty eyes. At the very least there is stability in the pattern. You can sense the hand of dismissal as it cuts through the tension to lay its mark upon your cheek. Delivering the degradation of being hit with the indifferent truth. Nothing more than a pillowed and silken chaise that cleans cooks and allows you to lay your every waking trouble upon her breast, upholstered in thin sinewy tatters, longing for mutual fortification.
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Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 1:01 PM UTC
Better than Nothing?
Diving into your reflection An unknown depth The last moment above the surface A chill overcomes my being My freshly shaven legs Now spike from premature stubble Goosebumps run up arms I shiver Tingling behind my neck Tickling my spine I squeeze my shoulders forward My muscles tense My mind is playing ping pong Between fear and overwhelming confusion For a brief moment excitement rides over and plays against uncertainly How I know I shouldn't think Cause once I start I cannot stop And on and on I go Just jump Surrender I close my eyes My heart beats faster My body tightens I picture the worst scenario It's dark and uncontrollable I know it's just a thought I also know it's real I remind myself to breathe So I breathe Like the day I was born And everyday since Out and in And in and out I practice my rhythm Beat on Beat off I feel my whole body thump Moving with my breathe Becoming my focus I breathe in once more On my release I let myself fall I fly Shattering my expectations Breaking every barrier I built Fracturing my thick walls My mental cement fortification Exploding Weightless nothing Disappearing And I fall I twirl on your reflection Dance in your eyes our universes colliding When will I wake up When will I resurface
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Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 7:25 PM UTC
Walk the plank
You bury yourself Beneath a veneer of apathy As though it offers fortification Then slowly without realising The wind blows Through your quietude Unraveling your every thought The shift Reminding you of how Your bones crackle and ache The way your irises sting To alarm you of hurt Your heart is yet to feel In high lonesomeness Silence sounds like water Running in a dark cave And you are falling down Into nothing
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Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 2:21 AM UTC
Bones
fear is useless. or at least, it should be. it isn't. fear stands on the edge of hope and teeters until it falls, it tumbles, it drops to its death and your stomach goes with it. fear leaves your mouth dry and your lips chapped and a vile taste on your tongue, but maybe those are just excuses. there's a possibility that all your deliberate shortcomings and bewildered apprehensions are just rocks in the landslide, simply supports for the growing fortification that is your inescapable fear. maybe it all adds up. maybe fear is what keeps us safe. can you tell I've begun to make friends with her? I'm finally letting her in. she tells me things, she whispers in my ear: "you are correct, your misgivings are confirmed." she's like a fortune teller that way; she reads my shaking palms and listens for the wind, my psalms sung softly in the darkness. she knows she can convince me that I'm right. I'm tired of waiting for the fear to break. spiraling downwards through the void somewhere between dread and senseless anxiety; I've been here before. there's still a hole in the floor. I'm keeping myself awake. I'm crashing to the ground and resurrecting with a cold sweat and broken arms. tell me it's not going to be all right. I only want the satisfaction of knowing, finally, that my fear is rational. I'm terrified. so let me know.
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Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 1:43 PM UTC
loom
on the stone parapet the small troop stood guard to keep any interlopers out of their hallowed yard they didn't want others setting up a permanent camp for that kind of turf gain there'd be no rubber stamp whomever contemplated taking over at the location were issued with a not so nice get lost explanation the place was theirs it would be held by only them a special title awarded unto this company's stem being aware of who's in control on the castle's fortification will serve those invaders a very well timed notification upon the gates was seen the following post's discretion to not heed it will be viewed as a mistaken perception
0
Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 8:18 PM UTC
Mistaken Perception