"gulit" poems
Wind blowing, Birds humming.
Trees growing, Flowers blooming.
Treasure these in heart,
For the soul needs to feel the art of nature.
Smell the morning grass, wind in hair,
The song of nature be so tearfully blessed.
Water crashing against the shore,
The sand beneath our feet we adore.
Wind lifting my worries away,
While the rain clears my mind away.
Laying on the grassy hill,
Staring upon the sunlit sky be thrilling.
Nature be the spiritual healer I see,
Nature becomingly strong within me.
One needith not look for angels,
One just needs to open their eyes.
To see nature is the angel,
To feel that nature has the light.
Like an angel nature is beautiful,
Like an angel nature heals the soul.
Stare upon it's roots to believe
Stare upon the land to be relieved.
Nature can be your angel you just need to see, rain washes your doubt sorrows gulit the wind lifts you up the sky shows you that dreams can be real. One just needs to see the potential within thy self.
So when down remember you can awalys walk in nature's embrace to heal your soul and know that everything is not bad.
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 2:14 PM UTC
I'm losing it.
Anger, Ease, Relief, Gulit, Pain, Numbness;
It's just a cycle.
It's just me.
It always has been.
She's just a stereotype.
Childhood:
Daddy didn't love her,
or Mommy apparently...
blamed herself,
for years...
Teenager:
Lost, without showing it.
Great actress, especially with those closest to her.
Yet, she found a way out...
And she almost took it to far.
Couple years later:
Naive to men,
they took advantage of her innocence,
her childhood complex to trust.
Made her believe herself again;
how people truly were beautiful underneath.
Fooled again.
and again. and again. and again.
. . .
Now:
She sees her reflection,
and tries to see beyond it once more.
To see that woman that once trusted,
once believed in blind faith,
was once clumsy with uncertainty,
instead of clumsy from drink...
She is just confused;
Lost,
within herself.
Afraid,
of breaking down.
Guilty,
from hurting him.
Angry,
for letting this continue.
Exhausted.
Exhausted from her own punishment.
Why did I write this, you ask?
I don't know;
maybe I wanted to organize my thoughts.
Maybe I wanted someone to actually listen.
Maybe I just wanted help.
I don't know.
Thank you though,
for listening;
to the deranged odes,
of a sad, and silly soul.
. . .
Jun 3, 2012
Jun 3, 2012 at 7:08 PM UTC
Give me your dark and decadently delicious desires,
the things you would never share with anyone you love;
those things in which you invest huge regret and gulit and shame...
yet secretly treasure because they make something in you ***
All of your unspeakable let it be spoken. embrace it, indulge it... feel the hardness of your pen, how it throbs and pulses as your long slender fingers curl around it, working their way to the tip, teasing it to a wild frenzy. Make every stroke of your pen spurt its steamy threads across the vulnerable nakedness of the ****** page and leave your passion dripping from its needy *******
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 10:38 AM UTC
how can I make a translation
of these never before felt feelings
if their language I don’t possess
one of which mine ears
have never had a previliage
of previous precous encounter
and one which overwhelms so powerfully
mine eyes; and my tongue but in realisaton
is powerless to pronounce
yet can do nothing else than confront them
these feelings, these feelings, oh these feelings
a painted mosiac of plasure and gulit
that leaves me in such a quandadry as I don’t know why
yet has me beliebve that the only thing I trust
any longer is this very moment; the moment with him
where pure and untainted feeelings break upon me
as foamed waves upon a pebbled beach
where convention does disintigarte
in splintering bursts of Vulacn light
oh to be yet disintangled in my mind
to be detached, feeling each succeeeding thought
as it seperates itself from the centreal core of my mind
to examine them in the srange sub-lit detachement
where I find myelf now floating
there is no known languange for its expression
these feelings, these felings, these feelings
only Raleigh, only Raleigh, I hope
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 11:12 PM UTC
Words stated without proof,
Can create stress?
And gulit for the parties involved.
Without a proof of evidence.
You're spreading strictly fiction.
Without facts.
Still rumors.
Just keep on rollin' from the tip of their tonques.
Strange stares.
Those odd looks.
Have you ponderin' if they might be true.
Or , least if those spreadin' them is jealous of you.
Still rumors.
Keep on rollin' from the tip of their tonques.
Its been stated.
You shouldn't accuse.
If you aware it's not true.
Because they might react to confirm it.
Still rumors kept on a comin'.
Others states to et it go.
But that to some is confirmation.
You got somethin' goin' on.
Then , there a few.
Who treated it as good news?
That those spreadin' them.
Must be jealous of you.
Besides, rumors just kept on comin'.
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 7:54 AM UTC
Words stated without proof,
Can create stress?
And gulit for the parties involved.
Without a proof of evidence.
You're spreading strictly fiction.
Without facts.
Still rumors.
Just keep on rollin' from the tip of their tonques.
Strange stares.
Those odd looks.
Have you ponderin' if they might be true.
Or , least if those spreadin' them is jealous of you.
Still rumors.
Keep on rollin' from the tip of their tonques.
Its been stated.
You shouldn't accuse.
If you aware it's not true.
Because they might react to confirm it.
Still rumors kept on a comin'.
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 7:54 AM UTC
Sometimes, we all have them.
Sometimes, we fail to act accordingly.
In the world of regrets.
A abusive lover attack the one they claim to love.
Did you step up?
Or claim it's none of my business.
You're in a world of regrets.
When a child is in harm.
A sign of an alarm.
Did you step us?
Or join others in a world of regrets.
When you see any wrong in operation.
Was you afraid to address the situation.
When you see a woman in danger.
Did you report it appropiately.
Or acted like we usually do.
By saying.
We wish we would have intervene.
But do you mean it?
Or you're happy in the world of rerets.
We see it constantly.
Only speaking when it seems gulit might affect us.
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 9:53 AM UTC
The evidence was notice by many.
The clues was just apparent.
Cause I left plenty.
From the note of a pen.
From the flowers she received.
And the many lovely cards I gave.
In other words.
I convicted myself.
By the evidence of love.
She was guilty too.
Not just me in this solved mystery.
She had the card.
She had my heart.
She had the note.
That I knew I wrote.
In truth of recognition.
I was gulit as charged.
With this evidence of love.
I seen the jury.
And they stared back at me.
I avoided the stare of the judge.
I simply thought he was mean.
From the first word he spoke.
He thought this case was a joke.
Cause, he saw the truth.
And the evidence of love.
I never denied the proof.
I stood up to the truth.
Why run when it's true.
That I truly do love you.
Aug 5, 2012
Aug 5, 2012 at 10:06 AM UTC