"harding" poems
Umiibig akong matapat ang puso,
sa iyo, O Sintang pithaya ng mundo.
Dilag na bulaklak sa harding masamyo,
sinuyo’t pinita ng laksang paru-paro.
Tinataglay nila’y mararangyang pakpak,
subalit ang nasa’y tanging halimuyak.
Iba sa bagwis kong luksa ang nagtatak,
sa mata ng iba’y isa lamang hamak.
Ako’y dahop-palad, niring mundo’y aba,
sa utos ng puso, ikaw’y sinasamba.
O! ang saklap naman, umagos ang luha,
pagkat lumilihis ang ating tadhana.
At niring landas ta’y lalong pinaglayo,
nang ikaw’y nabihag ng hari ng mundo.
Buong taglay niya’y di tapat na puso,
tanging hangad lamang ang kagandahan mo.
Sinta ko ano pa ang aking magawa,
kung sa ngalan ng Diyos kayo’y tinali na?
Daloy ng tadhana’y mababago pa ba’t,
panaho’y balikang ikaw’y malaya pa?
Bihag ka na ngayong walang kalayaan,
hawak ang mundo mo ng lilong nilalang
Wari'y isang ibong ang lipad may hanggan,
at ang yamang pakpak, dustang tinalian.
Paano O! Sinta yaring abang buhay?
Ikaw’y tanging pintig nitong pusong malumbay.
Kung ikaw ang buhay ng buhay kong taglay,
Sa iyo mabigo’y sukat ng mamatay.
Subalit nasa kong lumawig sa mundo,
sapagkat buhay pa niring pag-ibig ko.
At ikaw O! Sintang namugad sa puso,
napanagimpan kong pinaghintay ako.
Sa harap ng hirap na di masawata,
tanging asam ko’y lalaya ka Sinta.
At itong pagtiis ay alay ko Mutya,
mula sa puso kong nagdadaralita.
Maghihintay ako sa pagkakahugnos,
sa tanikala **** higpit na gumapos,
sa kalayaan na lubhang nabusabos,
at mariing dulot, galak na di lubos.
Ang aking paghintay akay ng pag-asa,
lawig ng pag-asa’y kambal ang pagdusa.
At ang dukhang pusong batis ng dalita,
tila pinagyakap ang pag-asa’t luha.
O! aking minahal ako’y maghihintay,
kahit walang hanggang paglubog ng araw.
Magtitiis ako sa gabing mapanglaw,
hanggang sa pagsilang ng bukang liwayway.
Yaong sinag nito’y ganap na tatapos,
sa dilim na dulot ng dusa’t gipuspos.
Sinag na tutuyo sa luhang umagos,
niring mga matang namumugtong lubos.
Yaong pamimitak ng mithing umaga,
araw na mabihis ng mga ligaya,
ang buhay kong abang tinigmak ng luha,
mula sa kandungan niring Gabing luksa.
Maghihintay ako sa gitna ng dusa,
kapiling ang munting kislap ng pag-asa.
Magtitiis kahit sanlibong pagluha,
hanggang sa panahong muli kang lalaya.
Maghihintay akong di hadlang ang pagal,
kahit ang panaho’y lalakad ng bagal.
Magtitiis ako pagkat isang tunay
itong pag-ibig kong sa puso’y bumukal.
Maghihintay kahit dulong walang hanggan,
na pagdaralita’t mga kapanglawan
Kahit di tiyak kong muling sisilang,
ang bukang liwayway na tanging inasam.
©Raffy Love Canoy |May 2019|
May 28, 2019
May 28, 2019 at 6:21 AM UTC
Kaya Mo Ba Akong Panagutan?
Nilason mo ako ng iyong mapanlinlang na balat-kayo.
Pinaniwala sa mga mapanuksong katagang pagbabago.
Hinayaan ko ang labi **** puno ng kasinungalingan,
Na dungisan ang aking minamahal na bayan.
Naging biktima ako sa kulungan **** puno ng promiso,
Isang harding pinamamahayan ng mga bulaklak galing sa impyerno.
Ako’y bingi’t takip-mata sa reyalidad ng iyong tunay na pagkatao.
Mistulang manikang salat sa kasarinlan; kumukubli, nagtatago.
Ginawa mo akong biktima ng iyong kasakiman!
Mga anak ko’y ginamit mo para sa iyong makasariling kaligayahan.
**Isa kang malaking hipokrito sa sarili **** lipunan!**
Labis na Kinasusuklaman, Higit na Kinamumuhian.
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 9:13 AM UTC
With the start of the first inning
as the wind whistled through the tree's
Our short stop had his shoulder broke
and the fates blew in on the breeze
This team was a thorn in the side
of the Harding Presidents Club
It was on this night my son Tate
was scheduled to play as a sub
The kid pitching for North Union
hurled a cooking heater down field
You could hear that freight train coming
as it's hide was 'bout to be peeled
Their coach then rallied his talent
pressing their shoulders to the wheel
like natives dancing 'round a fire
driving devils who'd struck a deal
A death defying mid-air, catch
the bounding, ball tossed on the run
The Devil was in town this night
riding in on the setting sun
They dove and slid then nearly flew
as if the angels rode their backs
While running bases half possessed
plowing the field with cleated tracks
No one remembered the last time
that our team had beaten this bunch
That night they took the field in style
serving them all up for their lunch
,
The dice kept coming up seven
and oh prophetically so
When the sun had finally set
the score was seven to zero
Come ye father's follow your child
through the tough times every one
For the oft chance will someday come
when they will have finally won
Tate
© 2012 Tate Morgan
Written
April 12, 2014
Americans love the underdogs.
original
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/1342622/
Original video poem of the same
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/1354978/
Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 11:36 AM UTC
Naglalaro tayo,
Pero hindi parang biro.
Mayroong taya,
Pero hindi alam kung sino.
At walang tayo,
Pero sana’y parehas na manalo.
Sisilip ang pusong walang pagkukunwari.
At sa tikas at dunong ng iyong pananampalataya,
Pawang gabay sa nauuhaw na sandali.
Ang baryang sentimo’y itinabi nang kusa,
Pagkat umuusbong ang pagsinta
Sa para sanang taglagas na paghinga.
Nais kong siyasatin ang maamo **** mukha
At ang pagkukumbaba’y batid kong patas at di ulila.
Iyong mga kamay, yapos silang mga uhaw
At ang tula’y binalot ng pakikipaghimagsikan.
Dukha ang pag-ibig ko,
Bagkus hindi mamamalimos.
At sa mala-larong pag-iibigan,
Magwawagi rin tayo.
Sapat na ang nalalabing mga sandali’t
Armas nati’y ibibigkis pa rin sa Langit.
Pagkat hindi lilisanin ang Harding may bukal ng pag-ibig.
Tataya ako’t hindi ka muna gigisingin
Sa himbing ng paghikbi’y, ako’y gapos ng katotohanan.
Sinta, hintay lamang; pagkat matatapos din ang laro
Gigising tayong muli’t bibihisan ng pagsuyo.
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 10:28 AM UTC
"Still water runs deep." - Yiddish Proverb
To sail within a boat
never rocked or tucked within a sea.
Long grass kissing the bow.
Mosquito hum, siren stand-in.
Brother big, brother strong.
I, the groove of big brother's elbow.
Clothes on the line.
Canary yellow, A-line dress.
The spring girls swelling, rippling
from the bashful shore.
Big brother hold me over edge.
My arms, my oars.
Splashing pasture, blades receding.
Adults at birthday parties.
Brother big, brother mast.
Climb.
Not only sail, but zephyr, I.
Snake through Rusty Bike River,
the tributary.
Spill.
Into the wide, into the Harding Family Ocean.
Where dolls, hair frayed and faces smooshed,
lounge half-submerged and mostly forgotten.
Where sea dogs test chain, test spike.
Eye the confident chickens strolling dock.
And then Mother turns on porch lamp,
soft words, ebbing to lighthouse.
Brother big, big brother.
My arms, my arms.
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 4:56 AM UTC
Let’s start with a reminder:
President Harding,
President Woodrow Wilson,
President McKinley,
President Calvin Coolidge
& President Harry S. Truman--
Harry giving them hell in my lifetime,
In my time—
An ever so proximate reminder--
These were all Presidents of the U.S. of A.
Also, KKK Members.
Warren G. Harding, for Christ’s sake,
Was actually sworn into the Ku Klux ****
At a **** ceremony
Astonishingly conducted,
Inside the White House,
Presided over by Wizard Imperial of the Day,
The Honorable Colonel Simmons.
And I may as well throw in
Justice Hugo of the Supreme Court
Hugo Black in white robes,
While we’re on the subject of cultural memory,
To wit: the one Branch where Fairness
Is supposed to go with the territory.
You want to talk about race?
Hey, don’t get me started.
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 11:04 AM UTC
Manaka-naka kong binisita ang 'yong munting tahanan
Siniyasat kung may bagong kagamitan o panauhing pinaunlakan
Sinuri ang katibaya't karupukan ng dating kagamitan
Repasuhin ang pundasyong itinukod ng nakaraan
At sa muli kong pagbisita sa 'yong tahanan
May bago akong nadatnan– nag-iba ang 'yong kinahihiligan
Hindi na aso kundi pusa ang paborito **** alagaan
Pati pintura ng 'yong munting tahana'y sya ring pinalitan
Ang dating itim ay tuluyang naging luntian
Maging ang pader nito'y simentado na't hindi kawayan
Pagbabago nga ba? o isinaayos lang?
T'wing bibisita ako sa 'yong tahanan
Dati-rati'y umaabot pa sa 'yong pintuan
Datapwat ngayo'y hanggang tarangkahan na lamang
Nananatiling nakamasid sa 'yong bakuran
Sa harding dati'y mirasol pa ang namumukadkad at hindi rosas
Sa bagong panauhing pinapasok sa pintuan
Pinaunlaka't nilaanan ng oras
Sa mga larawan niyang nakasabit sa dingding na dati'y mukha ko ang nilalaman
Nakatanaw;
Sa tahanang minsan ako'y nanahan
Sa tahanang tuluyan ko nang nilisan
-SLE
Feb 12, 2020
Feb 12, 2020 at 9:25 AM UTC
Anger so deep
The journey so far
The pain so real
Pain so real that it makes time stands still
I am overwhelmed by my demons
I am forced to question the person am
I question why, just why I seemed to be far removed from this place
Dark cold and lonely pain is my new place.
By Oscar Harding
Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 8:54 AM UTC
on edges of swing set of summer of child
I grow -- a rust abloom while ghosts
of women once called "mother" do push
a wind a creak a falling leaf feathering
downward, candied sentiment traveling
forward
for hope for empty swing to fill to turn
the chronometer back to 12 noon, March 6, 1972
Dec 20, 2012
Dec 20, 2012 at 6:03 PM UTC
herman harding showed me his truck today
in the muggy high school parking lot
in the sweltering sun
that could easily set my still temperament ablaze.
"she calls it the **** wagon."
he told me.
"she calls mine the firestarter."
i told him; he gave me a look.
"surprised?" i asked.
"so what do you think?"
"it's a battered wife."
"what the hell does that mean?"
"all bruised and broken down,
probably only runs because
you give it gas."
"it's a hand-me-down, okay?
so am i giving you a ride home,
or what?"
i crawled in the **** wagon.
"i should be getting my license soon."
"that's nice."
herman seemed uneasy.
"yep, i'll be driving by next school year."
"that's nice."
the truck had green seats
and a yellow dashboard.
obviously replaced.
approaching the highway,
i opened the glove compartment-
insurance information.
"you're telling me you bought insurance
for this piece of ****
"why should you care?"
"i'm just wondering,
seems like a waste of money."
almost home,
i flip down the sun visor-
down flutter a couple of pictures of her
that shouldn't have been taken.
i flip the sun visor back up,
take a look at the photos,
and deposit them in the glovebox.
"tell me, herman:
do you like getting hand-me-downs?"
"get out of the truck."
Apr 8, 2011
Apr 8, 2011 at 1:17 PM UTC
Presidents
Washington, Adams and Jefferson,
had *** with slaves just for fun.
Madison, Monroe and Adams,
I'm sure had secret madams.
Jackson, Van Buren and Harrison,
not sure how they ever won.
Tyler, Polk and Taylor,
before elected lived in a trailer.
Fillmore, Pierce and Buchanan,
should have been shot from a cannon.
Lincoln, Johnson and Grant,
each once had a cotton plant.
Hayes, Garfield and Arthur,
sinking fast with no life preserver.
Cleveland, Harrison and again Cleveland,
both of them killed at least one Indian.
McKinley, Roosevelt and Taft,
all too fat to float on a raft.
Wilson, Harding and Coolidge,
should have jumped from a bridge.
Hoover, Roosevelt and Truman,
wondering if they were even human.
Eisenhower, Kennedy and Johnson,
neither of them can still run.
Nixon, Ford and Carter,
not sure which one was smarter.
Reagan, Bush and Clinton,
shot, stupid and a Monica.
Bush and now Obama,
one was dumb,
and the other looks like a black llama.
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 1:32 AM UTC
and at the end of this session, i'm going to gorge on homemade banana cake, and a glass of milk; hmm, so that's that.
hannah hallysem, chloe vevrier, rosalia verne, dakota skye, nadine jansen, milena d., katrina jade, alison tyler, sasha foxxx, noelle easton, shay fox, kourtney kane, aletta ocean, lexi belle, aria giovanni, maritza mendez, silvia loret, laura lion, ashley graham, latex lucy, alexis texas, dana dearmond, abella danger, karmen karma, jezebelle bond, keisha grey, karmen grey, jelena jensen, carmen croft, aneta buena, ines cudna, ewa sonnet, emma green, louisa marie, ivy nedkova, karolina pliskova, emma green, louisa marie, ivy nedkova, rooney mara, claire forlani, kelley scarlett, malina may, amirah adara, phoenix marie, foxy di., kenya lust, kiera winters, christy mack, paige delight, faith nelson, darya klishina, sand morris, alysha newman, silvia saint, adele stephens, deven davis, ewa wyrwal, tanya song, synn wagner, christina lucci, hunter leigh, lynda leigh, gemma atkinson, mulani rivera, sarah harding...
all those "expectations" mingling with a babuska...
gotta have a babuska after a list like that...
looks nice, doesn't it?
see how honest other people can become...
that's as honest as you're going to get:
i'm hardly an out-of-the-closet gay / intellectual...
and this is hardly the most desireds genetical "encyclopedia"
worth reciting...
but at least there's no closet,
and certainly no skeleton in it...
to be honest, i'd love to see a compendium of
a woman's favourite *****
oh sure, i can switch off...
i just start thinking about cow *******
and milk sacks; not that hard;
ugh... furr... itchy... stroking a cow is like
scratching your skin after the barbers...
milking a cow: ah... another subject
of investigation...
why do men not bother being
breast-fed, to out-compete the babe?
seems a shame to leave a vacuum for
capitalism to not investigate, don't you think?
Sep 2, 2017
Sep 2, 2017 at 10:01 PM UTC
There once was a
Grand Old Party
Formed against slavery
The Free Soil party
Defenders of the constitution
And the omnibus declaration
First to be President:
Abraham Lincoln
The 20s were the
Republican decade
Harding, Coolidge and Hoover
A decade sadly a century past
A temporal chasm loomed
Until conservative hero
Former democrat Reagan
Trickled up the elephant’s trunk
Take eye of Newt
And two from Bush
Alchemy trickery: viola kazam!
The great bamboozle began
It’s no longer conservatism
No longer less federalism
A horrible takeover
This GOP makeover
Fend for self
Wall off power
Distort report
All else enemy
Walk lock-step
Repeat refrain
Us not them
Say it again
My senator father
Is spinning in his grave
Fox in the henhouse
This Mitch debprave
Feb 12, 2020
Feb 12, 2020 at 10:14 PM UTC
“Nightmares with my eyes open wide”
I am smiling.
Wish you could see me cry.
If only you could have seen that dead limp body in my arms!
If only your ears coul…d hear that cry.
My ears cry.
My eyes cry.
My heart cried.
My soul dying.
I killed purity.
I killed innocents.
Mummy loved me.
Daddy loved me.
And I was killed just the same!
Others could see what needed to be done.
No one wanted to **** A dying soul!
A soul in pain.
A soul pleading with eyes that pierced to the bone.
I pretended to be blind as not to see, the pieces of what once was?
I pretended to be deaf as not wanting to here the cry’s of death!
No matter how I try.
No matter how hard I smile.
No matter how hard I laugh!
The sadness, the sadness.
Darkness still grows inside!
By Oscar Harding
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 8:14 PM UTC
sa isang harding puno ng rosas,
sumibol ang tila bagong bulaklak
talulot ma'y 'di paris ng bighani ng iba,
halimuyak na taglay ay waring mahika
ngunit salungat ito sa nais ng hardinero,
sapagkat pula lamang ang kanyang tanging ibig
may suklam sa mga mata niya itong minasdan,
pinitas nang walang pagdadalawang-isip
ipinagkait na para bang api,
ang pagkakataong mamukadkad nang ganap
damong itinuring, kapara ng salot sa tanim
kawawang sampaguita, ganda'y 'di napansin
Apr 23, 2020
Apr 23, 2020 at 1:24 AM UTC
i wrote this to tell you all the things you'll never get to know about me
you will never get to know what i taste like with all 90 days under my belt
you'll never get to know how i handle the anniversary of my mother's death
or what watching my father die does to me
you'll never get to see me bailing my little brother out of jail
or find out about how i don't smile the same way anymore after serving two years inside
you'll never see me on my wedding day
and you will never hear me tell you "i do" or that i love you
or hear me announce that my wife is pregnant
and you'll certainly never get to meet my baby girl and she'll have eyes just like her mama
you will never hear me come home from work when we're in our late thirties and i always have a good reason to bring flowers
you won't ever find out what my favorite song is when i'm mowing the lawn out back
and you won't be there when i decide to press charges on the man that hurt me
my point is
you're gone.
and honestly, you might not care. you might not ever even think of me again.
but you will never get to know me.
and for that i am thankful
Oct 3, 2017
Oct 3, 2017 at 6:02 AM UTC
“Family Drive”
you should of gone that way
Have you ever had one of those days
you won’t need a navigational system nor a GPS
just trust in your family , Family knows Best
No No Not that left
One wants you to go in one direction
and the other wants you to go in another.
Confused? You can get that way
No No Not that left
And now I gunna ignore them all
In fact, that is exactly what I had to do
No No Not that left
you should of gone that way
you won’t need a navigational system nor a GPS
just trust in your family , Family knows Best
By:Oscar Harding
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 9:15 PM UTC
The literal worst.
Some might say Nixon- the criminal in charge
Martin for the tear he let the native’s tread
Hoover for the shanty towns that rose
Fillmore who let the escaped and finally free be returned to captivity.
John Taylor the whig who wasn't a whig but manifested his Ideas in us going west.
Warren G Harding and the Affairs
James Buchanan who started the war.
But the worst were the ones who never got to be.
The literal worst because I got to see a world that will remain unknown to me.
And they are:
Jessie
Charlene
Victoria and Shirley
Belva
Elaine
Carol ‘n Patsy and
Cynthia McKinney
And who can forget Joan Jett Blakk the black Drag Queen
Because Despite what the winners want you to think WE do not look like James Buchanan!
Warren Harding!
John Taylor and all the other men who have persisted to reign.
And still, we sit here and watch as all other make strides in the field we claim to have created.
Brazil
Germany
India
Israel
Iceland
Ireland
Liberia
Norway
Pakistan
The Philippines
Sri Lanka
South Korea
And the UK
I hope I live long enough to see America rise to the silent challenge of its peers.
To see a woman at the podium
To see a woman at the desk.
To see
The black woman
The trans woman
The bisexual woman
The old woman
The unmarried, unmothered woman
The minority woman
The asexual woman
The not so average American woman woman.
The bleeding woman.
Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 11:32 AM UTC
Blades of grass
Slice like swords
Up the mountain towards
Divinity and
Portage Pass.
Ripples make
The water's mirror
Obscured but clearer
Is my mind at
Gold Cord Lake.
Sailing towards
The deepest blue
Where nature's hue
Harmonizes in
Kenai Fjords.
The mountains wield
Their crown with pride,
And skies abide
The reign of the
Harding Ice Field.
The sky is dark
But a giant looms
And light assumes
It's silhouette in
Denali Park.
Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 9:19 PM UTC
Man, don’t talk that shit--I ain’t but six-eleven, maybe,
But, pretend as he might, Reggie was seven-foot, legit,
And as bad a cat as ever took the court at Eastern High,
But bad off the court, too, took the neighborhood with him,
Wherever he went--man just couldn’t shake Mack Avenue,
And when the pros just decided
He wasn’t worth the trouble any more,
He had nowhere to go but back home, and nothin’ to work with
Save havin’ a big hand to pull a trigger with
(And that wasn’t getting him too far, like there wasn’t anyone
Who didn’t know who Reggie was),
And at some point you end up on the wrong end of the barrel,
Then nothin’ left to do
‘Cept try to wrestle what remained of the man
Into some huge-ass coffin
(Word was Mike Storen from the Pacers paid for it,
Even though Reggie had threatened to shoot his *** on live TV),
And word was when they got him to the graveyard
The coffin wouldn’t fit in the hole straight-in,
So they had to snap off a couple of the handles
And wedge him in all kitty-corner.
Man, I hope that story’s true,
Folks from the neighborhood used to say,
It wouldn’t be Reggie if he went straight.
Dec 6, 2017
Dec 6, 2017 at 7:30 PM UTC
You were there
Around 2009,
I sat on our favorite tree branch with the summer rays beaming down on my arms. It was the perfect picture for the missing spot in your scrapbook.
You had hoisted me up there.
Around 2013,
I walked into your farmhouse at Christmas ready for a night of food, and presents. I ran to living room to check out the tree, before saying hi.
You didn't even get a hug.
Around 2002,
My mom screamed out, while breaking my dad’s hand. The doctor opened the door, and let you in first. Your eyes filled with tears.
You loved me from the start.
Around 2015,
The shouts echoed throughout room and in my head. I sat crying on the coach as her shadow loomed over me. It was supposed to be a nice vacation.
You stood up for me.
Around 2006,
I ran down the hill and about tripped over my feet. I was the first one there, you were far behind. I jumped on the swing. I loved to fly.
You pushed me.
Around 2019,
I hugged you with cautiousness. Your frail arms wrapping around my body. My eyes turned to your water cup on the table, it was only half way gone. The tears started down my cheek but I wiped them away quickly.
You didn’t deserve it.
Around 2029,
I looked in the mirror all dressed in white. My mascara ran a bit. It was almost time to change my life. Hopefully for the better. I searched the aisle and saw every face staring at me. I felt yours too.
You were there…
Somewhere.
Inspired by Deborah Harding, "How I Knew Harold."
May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 10:41 AM UTC
The night is blank, like venison.
John Wesley Harding held my hand through the river.
The end is nigh.
Tomorrow things will be different, things will change.
I have so much passion, it's a curse.
I'm tired of tomorrows. I'm tired of being a fool.
I don't want to be a walking shadow.
I was born a walking shadow, so I was doomed from the start.
I find myself in love with everything and nothing but confusion to show for it.
I see myself and I am a small patch of existence. I question myself.
Why do I care about something so insignificant?
Why do I love her and hate him. I once despised strong emotion, but now I've learned to be rude and decisive.
Now, for the sake of heart, I must forget what I've learned.
I was born yesterday, it's a fact.
Running down the mountain is the green of the Earth, the metaphor of life. Pouring out itself is the wind, singing softly an echo of eternity. Rising from the sky a great pillar, and a message therein embedded presupposed perpetual motion.
There is good, and there is evil. There is life and there is death. There is creation and there is destruction.
Destruction has so much power, for everything is in constant decay, and yet, creation wins. Though people die, life wins in the end. Sure, it's optimistic, but I don't care!
I see you now...
Hair over your beautiful face, and you tell me,
without saying a word... you tell me....
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 6:02 PM UTC
As a disheveled Warren Harding once said:
“Because we’re insane!
There can’t be any other reason.”
Definitely to escape the cutthroat competition the contemporary circuit of born-for-the-role contenders creates on the court (or field, or stadium) –– ‘cause I can’t keep up
Definitely was seduced
By the ideas of hanging from cliffs with only tips
By the infinite approach, but ever distant mastery
By the hipster-esque go-with-the-flow-as-long-as-it’s-against-the-current lifestyle
Like a good song
The joy of the end
is the memory of the journey
Every movement, every stressed cord
The notes together form something unique
A landscape that only complete concentration can uncover
Also some of them are not as good
Which gives you a standard for excellence
Or maybe the endorphin high just makes me think these things
Maybe it’s slowly driving me insane
Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 4:23 PM UTC
I felt, your Funeral in my Brain!
My mind is going numb, numb with pain.
Numb with joy.
I’m “ Back “ to darkness and to peace of mind.
I looked inside to view the damage that was done.
"I am Forever lost without my soul.
My body is numb
I am alone
It’s never Quite
Anger ,Hatred ,Betrayal
I felt, your Funeral in my Brain!
Your now alone.
I feel joy and I am lost.
I felt, your Funeral in my Brain!
By Oscar Harding 11/2018
Nov 25, 2018
Nov 25, 2018 at 3:27 AM UTC