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"gloc" poems
there will come a day when father time will grow jealous of us and the fireflies will turn off their glow when the diamonds wont seem so precious and all the joys of this world will seem foolish and low and i will have to let you go dear mama sometimes i make you laugh just to hear the joys youve stopped showing on your face to breath your attempts to cough up your worries and drown in my love to watch you unfold at the ends and sease to be held in at your seams there will come a day when everything i have ever said to you will flutter off like a thousand butterflies in a storm and my actions will weigh heavier than the 98 pounds they've made of me dear mama i know i wont be able to hold your stare for as long youve held my hand but im hoping the seconds i've been given havent already carved a gourge in your daylight since you recieved me in place of a son instead of building a doll house of regrets i vow to keep the reality of your name true wont glorify the time you tried to spill yourself in the wind with the barrel of a police issued gloc because the shock of your babies moving away too much of a trigger bet i let the ringing of unfired suicide rounds bounce off every new york city sidewalk slab i've chased in an attempt to run from myself when i left you know that i held the crotchet needles you made my baby blanket with in my chest had the day of your second stroke in my heart and the only way i could release them was to shed my skin under the chin of a brooklyn boarding house so dont frown at the anatomy of a new york city skyline just know it offered the shoulders i needed at that moment when father time grew jealous of us and the fireflies turned off their glow i grew a light of my own dear mama something happened between me watching you relearn how to walk around the same time i learned to double knot my tennis shoes when everyone assumed my ignorance was bliss and let the brilliance in your bones become as black as night without ever noticing i was afraid of the dark what have these years done to us? to make me bloom in the bright of day while baking the stalk that is you i cant stand to watch you wither wont you shine too dear mama
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Sep 2, 2012
Sep 2, 2012 at 5:42 PM UTC
Dear Mama
there will come a day when father time will grow jealous of us and the fireflies will turn off their glow when the diamonds wont seem so precious and all the joys of this world will seem foolish and low and i will have to let you go dear mama sometimes i make you laugh just to hear the joys youve stopped showing on your face to breath your attempts to cough up your worries and drown in my love to watch you unfold at the ends and sease to be held in at your seams there will come a day when everything i have ever said to you will flutter off like a thousand butterflies in a storm and my actions will weigh heavier than the 98 pounds they've made of me dear mama i know i wont be able to hold your stare for as long youve held my hand but im hoping the seconds i've been given havent already carved a gourge in your daylight since you recieved me in place of a son instead of building a doll house of regrets i vow to keep the reality of your name true wont glorify the time you tried to spill yourself in the wind with the barrel of a police issued gloc because the shock of your babies moving away too much of a trigger bet i let the ringing of unfired suicide rounds bounce off every new york city sidewalk slab i've chased in an attempt to run from myself when i left you know that i held the crotchet needles you made my baby blanket with in my chest had the day of your second stroke in my heart and the only way i could release them was to shed my skin under the chin of a brooklyn boarding house so dont frown at the anatomy of a new york city skyline just know it offered the shoulders i needed at that moment when father time grew jealous of us and the fireflies turned off their glow i grew a light of my own dear mama something happened between me watching you relearn how to walk around the same time i learned to double knot my tennis shoes when everyone assumed my ignorance was bliss and let the brilliance in your bones become as black as night without ever noticing i was afraid of the dark what have these years done to us? to make me bloom in the bright of day while baking the stalk that is you i cant stand to watch you wither wont you shine too dear mama
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108
“I’ve become lost in the cross hairs of love and lust.” His line of thought became stagnant with no one to watch, spellbound by her snare looking for someone to care, her words would trimmer proving to much to bare— “it’s just not the same, in the way that i love you, something doesn’t remain.” A sword breeched his heart that day, vessel went off course filling with black waters of spite, lines became blurred, compass askew, naive conceptions of a roadmap wouldn’t do. “Rain washed away our chalk, it’s not all lost” this thought’s become seared, simmering in his mind until the time would come. I can’t talk of the grilling in our prince’s kingdom, except that the tyrannical king, made hell his home. Acidity was palpable, yet still he continued, never ceasing words kept him through— “but I do love you” until the fat lady’s tune, sulking in the nostalgia of her swoons. He continued to praise her more than the moon thanks the sun, for illuminating it’s room, in the sky, and the stars scream out cries, for the mangled prince lays waiting only for her shine; however the lyrics must stop, at some point, the fat ladies pitch will drop, until the nightingales love song stops. Scared to be hurt once again, a vow has been made that no more friends will be lost, or bring pain, but this came at a cost. Drowned by sorrow he knew only one way to manage, cut everyone out because they can do damage. Reclusive, seclusive, he shut out all, friends’ unaware, the ball couldn’t have dropped further; ashamed, self-disdained the thought feels like ****** What of the piper that doesn’t pipe?—As grim as tales come, stuck between a gloc and a hard bane. “Baring may be impossible” he said to cold steel, heavier than expected, ice-like to his lips, sitting against the wall, with a cumbersome grip. Last text sent “Take care of everyone for me, you’re now the guardian.” Panic set in friends, but it was all to late to heed. Until the end comes, he looks into the cosmos of his mind, and lastly to her shrine; final thoughts unknown, except to the wall and rug bellow but here I’ve presumed— “I will love you forever” trigger pulled, death concludes. RIP- Clay
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Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 2:39 PM UTC
Tragedy Struck
“I’ve become lost in the cross hairs of love and lust.” His line of thought became stagnant with no one to watch, spellbound by her snare looking for someone to care, her words would trimmer proving to much to bare— “it’s just not the same, in the way that i love you, something doesn’t remain.” A sword breeched his heart that day, vessel went off course filling with black waters of spite, lines became blurred, compass askew, naive conceptions of a roadmap wouldn’t do. “Rain washed away our chalk, it’s not all lost” this thought’s become seared, simmering in his mind until the time would come. I can’t talk of the grilling in our prince’s kingdom, except that the tyrannical king, made hell his home. Acidity was palpable, yet still he continued, never ceasing words kept him through— “but I do love you” until the fat lady’s tune, sulking in the nostalgia of her swoons. He continued to praise her more than the moon thanks the sun, for illuminating it’s room, in the sky, and the stars scream out cries, for the mangled prince lays waiting only for her shine; however the lyrics must stop, at some point, the fat ladies pitch will drop, until the nightingales love song stops. Scared to be hurt once again, a vow has been made that no more friends will be lost, or bring pain, but this came at a cost. Drowned by sorrow he knew only one way to manage, cut everyone out because they can do damage. Reclusive, seclusive, he shut out all, friends’ unaware, the ball couldn’t have dropped further; ashamed, self-disdained the thought feels like ****** What of the piper that doesn’t pipe?—As grim as tales come, stuck between a gloc and a hard bane. “Baring may be impossible” he said to cold steel, heavier than expected, ice-like to his lips, sitting against the wall, with a cumbersome grip. Last text sent “Take care of everyone for me, you’re now the guardian.” Panic set in friends, but it was all to late to heed. Until the end comes, he looks into the cosmos of his mind, and lastly to her shrine; final thoughts unknown, except to the wall and rug bellow but here I’ve presumed— “I will love you forever” trigger pulled, death concludes. RIP- Clay
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prove to me.... prove it to me! because.. words are just words, show it to me! don't let me stay sick, be the cure! Be there for me, stay by my side. Love could be there, just don't cover it with lies! Love me, don't let this chance slip. Having me is better than having a wrist slit. Scared to commit?? Why would you? You stayed a loyal friend all these years, now why wouldnt you? Step up and  be the person the to shut it down. Uplift me, save me me from this deep blues, and deep scars before I drown. protect me! Be the love and armor that's shines beyond distance of sound. Be the air that I breath,be the path i walk. Each step with on you can be real and not just talk. Is what I feel, put my heart on lock. prove it to me.... times in life are late rough. Not you,the clock... tic without the tock, zip without the lock hip without hop click without the clip and gloc.. is you without me,and I know if you need me,its will never stop.. real talk,or walk lies, step up,is forever hear my misery in the friendzone,not ties. By: Emmanuel jv Hernandez 7/7/12
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May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 10:06 PM UTC
Prove To Me..