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gracie Mar 2018
Shake me

Til the sad falls away
Til my heart breaks so cleanly
That you can staple it together
With love or
Some kind of metal
That won't melt in the scorching
Heat.

Hold me

Til my hands stop
Quivering
Til warm clouds of
Breath escape my lips
And drift up into the
Smoking atmosphere
Between our
Chests.

Shatter me

Til glass scatters across the
Concrete
Til no amount of superglue or
Soft words
Can fix the wonderful
Damage you leave
Behind.
The uniVerse Apr 2018
How fragile the butterfly
as it dances in the sky
trying to find its way home
to a place not carved of stone
soon all this will be dust
so it asks what's all the fuss?
what is all the fighting for?
silly soldiers and their wars
silly man and his laws
the only law is mother nature
for no man can escape her
she who birthed us all
she who waits when we fall
for how the mighty will crumble
as the fools they do stumble
upon the stolen hands of time
each of them suffering for their crimes
and yet the butterfly it worries not
for all that it is, is all that it's got
beauty set upon wings
it's beauty that truly sings.
https://www.instagram.com/p/Bk1RtKqFrqu/
Caroline Apr 11

“i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it.”

-E.E Cummings

What a talent to hold a heart within a heart;
To find that deeper resting place so
Two hearts must never truly
Part,
But I don’t have it.

I watch pieces of my heart stroll away,
Leaving slivers of my strongest bones
Out there in the fickle sun,
Exposed.
I wish I had a whistle to call them back;
To draw them through my ribs and whisper, “stay,”
But instead, I feel the throbbing of my own veins in
Heart fragments walking out on other plains,
Like galaxies of stars expanding.

Children are like this,
Born as tiny aching magnets.
The pull to keep them safe
Floods through distance like blood displaced;
It makes us fragile.
I want to call the pieces back inside and reassemble my heart along
The fault lines where each birth caused it to divide.

They are portions of my heart outside my skin,
And as with them,
You are my heart beyond my edges.

I put my faith in the universe to protect us.
Cambria Andersen Oct 2018
Time is burning like a candle, the flame dancing next to my bed.
And, somewhere in my mind I am searching, 'round the many corners in my head.
And, somewhere in my mind I'm seeing, lovers, ghosts of who we used to be.
And, somewhere in the night I smile, as I rescue moments from my memory.
Somewhere in the night I'm racing, reaching out to catch your falling star.
Grasping at it with eager hands, only to drop my own fragile heart.
This poem still haunts me. Every time that I read it.
It all happened. every bit of it.
It was good that it did. I am better for it.
Kurt Carman Sep 2018
It’s something I think about often,
Do we fully understand the fragility of this life we possess?

And suddenly a loved one is taken …it inflames you to think.
Every consciousness is a precious and fragile gift.

These lives of ours are fleeting, gone in a minute.
When you suddenly understand this, everything fades into the background.

Pushing 70 now… I choose to soar out of bed joyfully rejoicing each morning,
That life has granted me another day above the dirt.

Life is strong and weak…it’s a paradox.
Keep your mind strong my friends, don’t hide behind your fears.

This life of yours is an amazing gift….live it with a smile!
I often think about my ancestry. In my living room hangs a picture of my Great Grandfather Isaac. And each time I walk past it I tell him how much I love him. I look forward to meeting him one day. But until then I refuse to let my death consume me and I hope you don't either.
Jen Nov 2018
No one really knows,
Where we go.
No matter how strong,
Together,
And reinforced 
We try to be;
There is 
A force we can't control:
Fragility. 

So,
Let's not 
Think so much.

Our nature
Eludes true 
Vulnerability.
Jason Drury Feb 15
If I gave you my soul,
would you read each page?
Scribble notes of interest
and know me.
Would you take the time,
to help tape the seams?
Would you mend,
the fragility of my soul?
It tears and rips,
easily, emotionally.
Marília Galvão Jan 2018
He came as he was
And she, as he wouldn't have imagined
Cracks of her artistic nature
Overwhelming every cell of her palm
The fragility of an inviting craziness
Captivating his instinct for drowning
her impetuous gaze
Shouting a child's malice
The absurdity of her coherence
Killing him of laughs

He read her silently, she was the book that turns off the light
of the room
And
The reader's, drenched in the revealed chapters

Torn between the doctrine of his sense of justice
And
The torment of smiles caged in 'if'

Oppressed by an unfamiliar circumstance
And
unpronounceable desires

Ripped between her disarming perfume
And
His non-existent suicidal vocation
August 2017
Tolani Aug 2018
We were both love. I was a sunflower and you were a snowflake. Both beautiful and gentle but unable to coexist effectively because flowers can’t blossom in the cold.

Yet when it ended, the truth became misconstrued.
Suddenly I was a rose thorn that pricked you till you bled.
And you were a greedy bee that ****** the life out of me and left me empty.

We created false portrayals of each other to make this all a bit easier to deal with.

But the truth will always stay.

We were both beauty, purity, fragility, love.
We just weren’t meant to give our love to each other.

And now we both bleed, because the hardest part is accepting we were never meant to be.
We were never meant for each other..
Harsh Jul 2015
I roar with a bravado
that echoes throughout
the deepest caverns
of brave souls

yet with every time
there lies a risk
of my own reverberations
shattering my heart

I am fragile glass
fashioned into
the fearsome form
of a lion

I have been chiseled at by
Father Time and Mother Earth,
carved away by my pains
and my worries.

I am no façade;
there is nothing ornate
about me designed to
hide something heinous

I can shatter
just as easily
as my mother’s
prized china set

But I roar on
even as I chip away;
my joints creaking
and my body scorched.

Do not mistake my
scratches and cracks
for weakness,
I have demons of my own.

I walk this ground
with the hope
that my roars,
in spite of my fragility,

will instill a sense of hope
into all of you
with glass hearts
such as mine.
This piece was inspired by this -> http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1110481/paper-lion/ which doesn't seem to be working, but the piece was entitled "Paper Lion"
sophia Aug 2018
and to you do i deem another one of these elongated rambles of words bowed down to us by gorgeous sundancers. dear true love, is it painful— that you fell from heaven carrying a satin piece of you coating me in your tempting warmth? i wish it weren’t; your response to pain is not what lavishes you to a perfect sunbeam but rather an all-knowing traveller. countless of letters have been shipped down from the bounty to your lost paradise; missing you, as if the clouds have taken you in the fastest they possibly could. now i would never understand how it feels to be held in close proximity again; with tenderness adjacent to a fairy’s whisper. but this open letter allows you to realise of the poetry living within your bones. that no matter how sturdy it takes for the fragility to break through, there will always be love residing. from me, in you. i’ll be waiting in mornings, holding the moon on my hand, standing on the wild grand on the universe that we’ll never compare to. but trust me, that’s what you are to me. you’re on top of everything else that comes to live and breathe.
Rakib Dec 2018
What good is a masculinity so fragile,
That it harbors misery and shatters souls?

What good is an alliance so toxic,
That it tweaks tears as opposed to laughter?

So speak up and break free,
Live life merry as long as your body does plea.
Empiricprotagon Apr 2017
along with this life steps
my past life was a mess
i was lifeless

i lived with fighting thoughts
to obey or being rebellious

if i found out,
that my main persons
is all supportless,
i would never told my goals

but there's no way back

i grown with taunts,
in rude vicinities

but it's all changed me
now i'm a strong unity
i left my fragility
to fully conquer this body.
For everyone who had unhappy past.
Harry Jul 2014
She traded love for a deluded opportunity.
Chased 'the dream' without a thought or care for me;
A total lack of empathy,
I try to have some sympathy
'Cause apathy's the death of everything I claim to be.
She threw away our chemistry,
And left me in captivity,
Holding on to overwhelming senses of antipathy.
I'm tired of your delinquency,
I'm tired of this exigency,
I'm tired of constantly being at the epitome of emotional fragility.
So I've reluctantly accepted fate's futility.
I trusted you implicitly,
And loved you unconditionally.

I struggle to believe you did this straight deliberately,
But initially, your quest for self-sufficiency
Was never meant to go beyond a gaining of responsibility.
Connor Aug 2018
Pleasing each other in the perfect
black night
(wretched forest)

Hands gripped tight against your waist,
on my knees, the dirt below digs into my skin
which is okay
We can hardly be heard midst the lively pandemonium
surrounding our loveliness

Drop-down
like a Luciferean Prima Donna
in silk /
walk on flowers of both Hemispheres
telling me how much you adore me & you

As equals in our posture-possession
unable to stand straight/shrouded by holy creamy
doves closing-in
muffling our mutual shrieks (as to be private and without gathering too much a crowd)

O Autumn Calypso
keeper of the scales, of the riddle
& the promise simultaneous -
- I am your victim and your master, trafficking our fragility
into a glorious Unknown, shade & essence of leaves wavers in the quieting hour,
seduced - transfixed & ravished in a wondrous spectacle
with Enchanter's nightshade laurel endowed on high

****, close and
hot - unrehearsed arias told by tongues  -
while we seep further in a hallowed guise/harp misplaced -
excommunicated from the Stead we traversed
before on ideal grounds – too late to remember or
repent – dabbling in magic with our double identity - now one insoluble drapery of illuminations
being shepherded into a ferocious
intoxication of its own fluid magnificence – a Narcissus gazing back, decaying with vehemence
giving thanks
can be a very existential thing
as the legendary settlers in New England learned
when they arrived
   as illegal immigrants
and the natives
   though wary of their guns and swords
taught them to plant
   corn together with fish
and shared their harvest with them
   late in the year

giving thanks may be a very personal thing
whenever we travel far away
are given a friendly welcome
are fed and housed by the natives
and accepted into their families

giving thanks is a very human thing

it shows that we are aware
of the fragility of our life

that it always depends
on the kindness of strangers
who help us to survive
in their world

after all

we are aliens
in most parts of our globe

          * *
Kris Aug 2015
I am gravely aware that the astral illuminations
bespeckling the depths of darkness above
are not mine to have, to claim sovereignty over;

but may I borrow their magnificent boundlessness–
these celestial beings that are the closest things to
spatial-temporal eternity that I can perceive–just for tonight?

So that I may share something vast and seemingly lasting
in a moment that we both know to be bittersweetly fleeting,
bound to the mortal fragility of terrestrial life.
Lewis Hyden Nov 2018
Where do you see yourself in a year?

Still living here -
A tactile skyline atop pillars of smoke
Heavy with guilt
And the craftsmanship of a generation of men
To whom Earth is a rock, immortal
Untouched by the bouts of the smog which ascend
To hold up their forges?

Where that which is green must also be man-made
And an old plant-***
On an old window-sill
Is the closest to what was here before? Is it a facsimile?
Where your throat hurts,
Chemicals an ersatz flowing stream
Of purest water -
And why is rainfall the freshest you can drink?

You haven’t always been here.
Where were you before? Was it green
Or blue, or any other colour
Besides this abiding grey? Perhaps
There were rainbows and colours
And sunlight, unfiltered by smog
Or dust. Warm, purposeful.
Her fragility charmed you.

Because our Earth is not immortal. A wanderer
In space, motherly, who are we to defile her?
A species of smoke and tar turning her soft hues sour
Colours unknown to nature
Like a drop of arsenic in a stream flowing through rocks?
Do you see yourself living
In a fortress, tumultuous to its steel bones
Each day burrowing deeper into her body,
Claiming her for its own, and ruining her at the same time?

So you think about your opportunity.
This life which fills her air, pulsing and vibrant,
To restore the purity we are missing -

Because Human and Nature are as one,
Invention is necessary but we are losing our time,
Virescent leaves brushing in the wind,
Our friends are loving, laughing, living
And we realise now that we are able to do so much better.

Or does none of that matter, somehow?
We make money to spend on plastic.
We are born, we work, we breathe, we die,
But we are still yet to run out of time

So where do you see yourself in a year?
This is a spoken word poem I wrote for the short film, 'Human Nature', produced by Ethan Church. It was a semi-finalist in the Gottlieb Native Garden Green Earth Film Festival in Los Angeles and was also shown in the Arica Nativa Film Festival in Spain. The poem was read by the fantastic Gabriela Vivas, whose talents turned a semi-decent poem into a fabulous display of passion and integrity.
The film is available for free on YouTube for anybody who is interested.

© Lewis Hyden, 2018
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