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"hatreds" poems
If there was one word One word, isolated by itself That I cannot stand above all others It would have to be "Okay" I despise "Okay" "Okay" Is how your millionth day at work went "Okay" Is off-brand raisin bran "Okay" Is how you say life is going When you don't want to admit you spend Every second of it Wanting to die "Okay" Is packed to the brim with Hidden implications Like a treasure chest Filled with bottles With little subliminal hatreds Written on tiny slips of paper Passively aggressively pushed inside To discover later As I pull out a treasure map And try to decipher Where I went wrong "Okay" Is a one word dismissal That feels like an essay a thousand pages long "Okay" Is a poison dripping with disinterest When I dared to share with you Something I thought might make you smile "Okay" Is like trying to talk to a wall While watching the paint on it dry "Okay" Takes two seconds to write Yet I waited days For that dreaded word To grace my notifications "Okay" Should be used sparingly As if each time you send it You **** the receiver just a little bit "Okay" Should not be said so often that I know what you're about to say Like I saw it in a crystal ball "Okay" Is not looking up from your phone When I tell you about my day "Okay" Is not the proper response To "I love you" They say that the opposite of love isn't hatred It's indifference And I can't think of a response More indifferent to pouring out My heart into your hands Than "Okay" At least the last thing you said to me Before we parted ways Showed that you cared At least a little bit "I hate you" Stung less Than the thousands of times Over our countless conversations You responded "Okay" Okay?
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Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 12:09 PM UTC
Okay
If there was one word One word, isolated by itself That I cannot stand above all others It would have to be "Okay" I despise "Okay" "Okay" Is how your millionth day at work went "Okay" Is off-brand raisin bran "Okay" Is how you say life is going When you don't want to admit you spend Every second of it Wanting to die "Okay" Is packed to the brim with Hidden implications Like a treasure chest Filled with bottles With little subliminal hatreds Written on tiny slips of paper Passively aggressively pushed inside To discover later As I pull out a treasure map And try to decipher Where I went wrong "Okay" Is a one word dismissal That feels like an essay a thousand pages long "Okay" Is a poison dripping with disinterest When I dared to share with you Something I thought might make you smile "Okay" Is like trying to talk to a wall While watching the paint on it dry "Okay" Takes two seconds to write Yet I waited days For that dreaded word To grace my notifications "Okay" Should be used sparingly As if each time you send it You **** the receiver just a little bit "Okay" Should not be said so often that I know what you're about to say Like I saw it in a crystal ball "Okay" Is not looking up from your phone When I tell you about my day "Okay" Is not the proper response To "I love you" They say that the opposite of love isn't hatred It's indifference And I can't think of a response More indifferent to pouring out My heart into your hands Than "Okay" At least the last thing you said to me Before we parted ways Showed that you cared At least a little bit "I hate you" Stung less Than the thousands of times Over our countless conversations You responded "Okay" Okay?
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72
People often ask me what love is And I seriously don't know what it means All I can think about is you Your eyes, those brown eyes Those eyes which saw me naked You saw every scar on my body Yet the only thing you said was “You are beautiful” Love, I am not beautiful Scars, stretch marks, blood, wounds Doesn't mean beautiful I am not an art Yet your lips kissed me The way the sun kissed my skin every morning Without a fail, without any doubt You smiled. And the only words that came to my mind was **** this is trouble" My love, your words hold me like a hostage Trapped inside an empty box, finding a way out. A way I can never ever get a glimpse of. I knew that this love Our love would last a lifetime Or so I thought We were torn apart by hatreds, insecurities, confusions Maybe if it wasn't for distance We would be still together, we could have worked it out But maybe, no matter what decisions we'll make We will still come to an end Confused about the future Insecure about other people Hating each other You, giving up And me, craving for more Craving for something that can fill up the hole inside my chest I wanted you to stay forever, here beside me But every time I would ask about it You always said "You deserve so much more" You were once my everything My other half My partner in crime You were someone so freaking important to me You were the kind of mistake, I wouldn't mind repeating I fell so hard for you And guess what happened? Love, I am broken How many days, months, years For me, to forget That once upon a time You were here I was there Hands holding tighter Eyes locked to each other Hearts that beat in a synchronizing manner How much would it cost? For the pain to stop For the memories to abandon For the feelings to fade My love, I did not expect any of this I didn't know that love can be deadly A love that can force someone to commit suicide That loving someone means tearing every part of yourself Now, do you think I'm suicidal? Love, do not be afraid I'm not going to die Being suicidal doesn’t mean killing yourself Suicidal means I wouldn't mind dying I kept on dying anyway I kept on dying at the same place I thought was giving life to me Because the day, you decided to give up on me I already gave up on myself.
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Oct 3, 2017
Oct 3, 2017 at 10:56 AM UTC
A suicide note from my love letter
People often ask me what love is And I seriously don't know what it means All I can think about is you Your eyes, those brown eyes Those eyes which saw me naked You saw every scar on my body Yet the only thing you said was “You are beautiful” Love, I am not beautiful Scars, stretch marks, blood, wounds Doesn't mean beautiful I am not an art Yet your lips kissed me The way the sun kissed my skin every morning Without a fail, without any doubt You smiled. And the only words that came to my mind was **** this is trouble" My love, your words hold me like a hostage Trapped inside an empty box, finding a way out. A way I can never ever get a glimpse of. I knew that this love Our love would last a lifetime Or so I thought We were torn apart by hatreds, insecurities, confusions Maybe if it wasn't for distance We would be still together, we could have worked it out But maybe, no matter what decisions we'll make We will still come to an end Confused about the future Insecure about other people Hating each other You, giving up And me, craving for more Craving for something that can fill up the hole inside my chest I wanted you to stay forever, here beside me But every time I would ask about it You always said "You deserve so much more" You were once my everything My other half My partner in crime You were someone so freaking important to me You were the kind of mistake, I wouldn't mind repeating I fell so hard for you And guess what happened? Love, I am broken How many days, months, years For me, to forget That once upon a time You were here I was there Hands holding tighter Eyes locked to each other Hearts that beat in a synchronizing manner How much would it cost? For the pain to stop For the memories to abandon For the feelings to fade My love, I did not expect any of this I didn't know that love can be deadly A love that can force someone to commit suicide That loving someone means tearing every part of yourself Now, do you think I'm suicidal? Love, do not be afraid I'm not going to die Being suicidal doesn’t mean killing yourself Suicidal means I wouldn't mind dying I kept on dying anyway I kept on dying at the same place I thought was giving life to me Because the day, you decided to give up on me I already gave up on myself.
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72
Exquisite Unique Become what you seek What is complete? How deep is your deep? Experience each moment You've earned it own it Fractal Vibrations one component Love comes from the soul Penetrate fills hatreds holes Twisting time with rhythmic rhyme Reading signs put in these lines Witness all the mental smoke Instigator stab and poke Give it all till I'm broke Passion hitting in one big stroke Time to come alive Elevate each other we'll thrive More than survive Unknown we can dive Vibrate till I turn to dust Never taste the center eat my crust In rhymes I trust..so full I bust Flow so fluid I'll never rust Now I can be flashy..tell a tale Not a one hundred percent sometimes I fail Pierce my heart with a rusty nail Darkness takes over but love prevails Imagination stretch..memorize every turn Set fire to your mind feel the burn Knowledge from pain is how we learn Balance will reward you with what you earn Wisdom doesn't flow from all that speak Truths are hidden which is why we seek We all must climb to reach your peak Creates who we are..Exquisite...Unique!!
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Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 5:48 PM UTC
Exquisite..Unique
Nine months after I was born, the Twentieth Century began to collapse. East Berlin,graffiti-mural concrete, a jutted enigma scratched on ordinance maps, the sort found landscaping westernized Primary School walls. Where within, labored in real time, the television told my parents (and everyone else given to social conservation in 1989) that a wall falling down would bring an end to the gap between the working and the working poor. Freedom waited for many on the other side. But of course, History draws up different plans. Never content to just go out with a bash, or to fleetingly drift by leaving in its absence an underwhelmed lull The bloodiest century yet left the new world entrenched in an odyssey of hatreds handed down from the past right about the time human suffering became a bit dull and the peaceful countries were too busy tripling their money instead. What does History really teach us and what are the real benefits of being free, or freer than you were before? Human ambition, which burns it way out of any oasis of calm, which calls children out of sleeping in the night Always seeks out the exhaustible An inveterate Black sheep leading astray the ever susceptible ****** lamb Delusion’s strange bedfellows are the worthiest adversaries to run away from, to reserve contrition for. Unlike the inevitability of uprooted animal migration during a monsoon swell Can a people with an invested addiction to the pursuit of happiness Ever truly be prepared for the inevitability of rapid change?
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Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 6:00 PM UTC
Maps, Mythologies.
Nine months after I was born, the Twentieth Century began to collapse. East Berlin,graffiti-mural concrete, a jutted enigma scratched on ordinance maps, the sort found landscaping westernized Primary School walls. Where within, labored in real time, the television told my parents (and everyone else given to social conservation in 1989) that a wall falling down would bring an end to the gap between the working and the working poor. Freedom waited for many on the other side. But of course, History draws up different plans. Never content to just go out with a bash, or to fleetingly drift by leaving in its absence an underwhelmed lull The bloodiest century yet left the new world entrenched in an odyssey of hatreds handed down from the past right about the time human suffering became a bit dull and the peaceful countries were too busy tripling their money instead. What does History really teach us and what are the real benefits of being free, or freer than you were before? Human ambition, which burns it way out of any oasis of calm, which calls children out of sleeping in the night Always seeks out the exhaustible An inveterate Black sheep leading astray the ever susceptible ****** lamb Delusion’s strange bedfellows are the worthiest adversaries to run away from, to reserve contrition for. Unlike the inevitability of uprooted animal migration during a monsoon swell Can a people with an invested addiction to the pursuit of happiness Ever truly be prepared for the inevitability of rapid change?
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34
a single momentary lapse of memory in a noisy skull, just bones, flesh and a shaky consciousness. slipping awareness and slowly swimming bloodshot eyes. you're the teenager, the sleepy head that angrily paces the room. agitated and stressed out - to the maximum. tightly balled fists, ready to fight the oncoming storm. *'so long and good night. but before i go you should know that if you carry on like this, you'll surely do yourself damage.'* 'what of it?' taunts the little voice within the closed in, confined walls of the skull. **'it's too late. you're too stressed. forget it.'** and then there's the shouting now, not taunting, **'for the love of god, bite your tongue and SHUT UP!'** and again, from within. whispering, but maliciously forceful... **'you're desperate and pathetic. stop crying, you idiot. you're being so ridiculous. no one wants to hear your ridiculous whining. choke those words back down, they don't matter'** the violence that racks through your bones makes you stressed and scared as hell, your eyes bloodshot and makes your chest so painful that even breathing hurts. unable to stand anything, at all. wanting it all to STOP. it's not enough, screams the voice. that's another sleepless night. another night lying awake, tormented and ridiculed by a voice telling you *you'll fail, you're **** give up now before it gets so much worse* scream at the top of your lungs, tear yourself apart, if the voice inside hasn't already stripped you bare of confidence and everything that once made you, you. it's nearly too late. and the voice still spits hatred at you. always. selfish.
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Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 1:46 PM UTC
morbid hatreds
a single momentary lapse of memory in a noisy skull, just bones, flesh and a shaky consciousness. slipping awareness and slowly swimming bloodshot eyes. you're the teenager, the sleepy head that angrily paces the room. agitated and stressed out - to the maximum. tightly balled fists, ready to fight the oncoming storm. *'so long and good night. but before i go you should know that if you carry on like this, you'll surely do yourself damage.'* 'what of it?' taunts the little voice within the closed in, confined walls of the skull. **'it's too late. you're too stressed. forget it.'** and then there's the shouting now, not taunting, **'for the love of god, bite your tongue and SHUT UP!'** and again, from within. whispering, but maliciously forceful... **'you're desperate and pathetic. stop crying, you idiot. you're being so ridiculous. no one wants to hear your ridiculous whining. choke those words back down, they don't matter'** the violence that racks through your bones makes you stressed and scared as hell, your eyes bloodshot and makes your chest so painful that even breathing hurts. unable to stand anything, at all. wanting it all to STOP. it's not enough, screams the voice. that's another sleepless night. another night lying awake, tormented and ridiculed by a voice telling you *you'll fail, you're **** give up now before it gets so much worse* scream at the top of your lungs, tear yourself apart, if the voice inside hasn't already stripped you bare of confidence and everything that once made you, you. it's nearly too late. and the voice still spits hatred at you. always. selfish.
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33
Where was I, when you were alive? Was I sleeping, dreaming, kicking, screaming, Staring in wonder at the bright stars a-gleaming? Where was I when you were crying? Was I thinking of life after dying, Seeing as it was, or blind and sighing, Where was I when you were crying? When you were born, what was I doing? Was I speaking, walking, peeking, stalking, Dancing, singing, laughing, mingling, Looking, lying, toking, trying? Where was I when you were on the beach, Staring out towards the sea? Perhaps I was taking a *** Or sipping my hot cup of tea? Where was I when you were sleeping? Perhaps I was in mid-air, leaping, Or watching as MTV was bleeping swearwords. Where was I when you fell ill? Was I parked up on a hill, Waiting for life to arrive With a plan it did contrive? When you were driving, Or tidying, Perhaps on a snowboard somewhere, sliding, Was I alone at home and hiding? Or on the bike somewhere, and riding? Maybe I was wide-awake, Or laughing with my friends, while baked, Or greasing a pan to bake a cake, Contemplating what makes a lake. Or perhaps I was asleep and dreaming, and lost in my subconscious readings, With avatars of all my friends, Buying a Mercedes Benz. Where was I when you were wasted? Was I laughing at old hatreds, Staring at a crawling aphid, Or in the shower, and stark naked? Where were you while I was thinking? Perhaps you were awake and blinking, All the sleep out of your eyes, After dreaming of cute Albanian guys? Where is everyone this second? I mean, this specific second, As I write or read this poem, Perform it for a crowd so wholesome, Where am I as you read this? Up on a stage and fighting fears false lisp, To make sure all of these words are crisp, Or eating bread with ham and swiss? Are you dead, or are you living? A minion to society's bidding, Or policing streets and finally ridding Pavement of the hobos twitching out of crystal **** Perhaps you're firing a gun, Or you've found the only 'one,' To love through thick and thin, till death; Or thinking, "Wow, poor old MacBeth." In this moment, is it all; So listen to the moments call, And cancel all your texting plans, And use those thumbs to grasp the hand, Of a loved one next to you; "The day before" was never true, So there's no better time for you, To look for some more love to brew. So get up, and go do. Go do it.
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Apr 27, 2011
Apr 27, 2011 at 12:10 PM UTC
The Moment, Or, Go Do.
Where was I, when you were alive? Was I sleeping, dreaming, kicking, screaming, Staring in wonder at the bright stars a-gleaming? Where was I when you were crying? Was I thinking of life after dying, Seeing as it was, or blind and sighing, Where was I when you were crying? When you were born, what was I doing? Was I speaking, walking, peeking, stalking, Dancing, singing, laughing, mingling, Looking, lying, toking, trying? Where was I when you were on the beach, Staring out towards the sea? Perhaps I was taking a *** Or sipping my hot cup of tea? Where was I when you were sleeping? Perhaps I was in mid-air, leaping, Or watching as MTV was bleeping swearwords. Where was I when you fell ill? Was I parked up on a hill, Waiting for life to arrive With a plan it did contrive? When you were driving, Or tidying, Perhaps on a snowboard somewhere, sliding, Was I alone at home and hiding? Or on the bike somewhere, and riding? Maybe I was wide-awake, Or laughing with my friends, while baked, Or greasing a pan to bake a cake, Contemplating what makes a lake. Or perhaps I was asleep and dreaming, and lost in my subconscious readings, With avatars of all my friends, Buying a Mercedes Benz. Where was I when you were wasted? Was I laughing at old hatreds, Staring at a crawling aphid, Or in the shower, and stark naked? Where were you while I was thinking? Perhaps you were awake and blinking, All the sleep out of your eyes, After dreaming of cute Albanian guys? Where is everyone this second? I mean, this specific second, As I write or read this poem, Perform it for a crowd so wholesome, Where am I as you read this? Up on a stage and fighting fears false lisp, To make sure all of these words are crisp, Or eating bread with ham and swiss? Are you dead, or are you living? A minion to society's bidding, Or policing streets and finally ridding Pavement of the hobos twitching out of crystal **** Perhaps you're firing a gun, Or you've found the only 'one,' To love through thick and thin, till death; Or thinking, "Wow, poor old MacBeth." In this moment, is it all; So listen to the moments call, And cancel all your texting plans, And use those thumbs to grasp the hand, Of a loved one next to you; "The day before" was never true, So there's no better time for you, To look for some more love to brew. So get up, and go do. Go do it.
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69
CHRISTIAN DISCIPLE Ayad Gharbawi 1995 Silent Martyr! How can I hear you, then If all the Tears You speak of Burn My Face Etching Their Hatreds All over My brain?
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Dec 23, 2009
Dec 23, 2009 at 6:49 AM UTC
CHRISTIAN DISCIPLE - Ayad Gharbawi
Gymnasiums Modern battlegrounds,, Those days... Blood on the floor, And spittle. Rival towns, White - Red. Sitting Bull long gone, Custer long dead. Native sons, Sons of pioneers Still locked in enmities, Remembrances of treaties broken, Lying words, Hatreds long unspoken. So much of fear So little trust, Braggarts claiming coup, Braggarts thinking war Through basketball. So it was one night I slipped and fell In a reservation gym, Heard the hiss and laughter, Felt the rush of fear... Anger came. Before my racist pride Could grow, I felt a hand, Heard a voice, "You okay?' Spike Bighorn Pulled me to my feet Before a silent crowd. A quiet act of bravery That spoke aloud Made me see the way Through hate, Set me on a path To lead me forty years.... An act of kindness In a place of fear Defuses tension, Ends the wars, Shames the cowards, Fills the void With hope. -------------------
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Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 1:14 PM UTC
Spike Bighorn: A Hero
The foundation of selfishness Has much to do with wanting and desiring And places a heavy focus on Thoughts of obtaining and acquiring. The instinctive ego takes control And motivations become self-centered. We're often heedless and unaware Of the shadowy place that we have entered. Naturally, self-centeredness Colors what we think and do; But NOT wanting and NOT desiring, On the other hand, can be selfish, too. Wanting: selfish? Not wanting: selfish? How--we might ask--does that make sense? NOT wanting may substantiate Our way of life at others' expense: Not wanting others to share the same freedoms; Not wanting others to have the same rights; Being silent when seeing injustice; Ignoring people's struggles and plights; Not acknowledging the efforts of others; Not desiring to work toward peace; Not wanting to know oneself; Not caring if hatreds cease; Being indifferent to the happiness of others; Not allowing others to progress; Not wanting to know how to fix Our planet once we've made a huge mess. NOT wanting in many ways Speaks as loudly as word or deed, And we become helpless victims Of our sad and varying levels of greed. What motivates us really? Do we know, or do we care? Is it safer NOT to know? It might seem so, but beware. - by Bob B
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Oct 31, 2016
Oct 31, 2016 at 5:18 PM UTC
(Not) Wanting and (Not) Desiring
If I ruled the world The air would be gray So each day We could sit and watch The colors blow away If I ruled the world The whole globe would be gay Happiness abundant In a joyous Kind of way If I ruled the world Races would be gateways To walk into the life Of another culture each day. If I ruled the world Boundaries would be no more I'd step on racism And knock down hatreds door
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Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 7:37 PM UTC
If I Ruled The World
She comes to me bleeding inside from a thousand individual scars with pleading eyes self contained She speaks in gentle refrains "I don't know where I'm going I don't know who I've become I go through the motions deaf, blind and dumb I dance on cue I stand in line I've tried to be so good. I've left behind the darkness I've forgiven the past I'm far too aware of time It doesn't matter really I don't mind I wish I could tell you what I find The struggle between my internal world condemnation irritability judgement fears heartaches there, vile rages, petty hatreds *** dancing on the head of a pin exquisite laughter it's all there. While my behavior is quite the opposite accommodating, loving, compassionate flirtatious, curious connection is my goal When I'm alone I'm lonely when together suffocated the best distance is from here to there I wish I could tell you that I mind The storms still come and go luck rides the tides each day the sunrise This human stuff is all too real it creeps up on you so you don't know how you feel Which is why I've come to you to speak my mind they say you are the complaint department the garbage collector I'm bleeding inside from a thousand scars that's not to say I really mind." They say the healer must heal themselves so of course I ask "How can I help you?"
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Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 9:25 AM UTC
Not to say I really mind
I am stronger A jungle grows inside of me, filled with hope and love A mystery's inside of me, that flows in sky above and branches reach for sun, but bound by dirt and earth and roots all tangle deep with in, fighting for whats good Beauty springing out from every new blooming flower a hatred came to beat it down, to steal the dirt from the ground frowns all placed on hatreds face, guilt its new grin it beat me down, I bow my chin shoulders fall in sadness, tear fogged vision in this crazy madness trees tortured by blazing winds, breaking under pressure sky's cloud up, gloom is a screaming disaster Birds don't fill the air, there sweet song not heard anywhere but sun beams break through the daze forcing all hateful thoughts to hide away this new faze, this new place grows with satisfaction I am stronger I am stronger I built a world just for me, filled with happy serenity A confidence filled the walls, that had been made so tall bliss built the roads i walked along, free from signs I knew the rules and towers pierced the sky, and aimed for the stars and fences ran around, to force me to stay in what I'd found a angry shadow ripped it down, and in fear I looked around outside this world I know not of, but to stay around unheard of forced to venture, pushed from home at first I felt so alone cold ran for me, but I found I was saved by my own breath my warmth was beating inside my chest I didn't need my strong built stone I just needed to me, and to not be alone so I ventured into the unknown. I stumbled on a new type of stome I built, with no fences I built a home not a prison I am stronger I am stronger laughter it ran from me,and confusion struck mixed with inner conflict I became a mixing *** set down and forgot,boiling with emotions I set on fire, burned a liar, stuck in a endless cycle More then society puts on me, more then other battles I've been through this one stopped me in my steps, I don't want this forever dread rip this darkness from my head, blood a simple sacrifice but there hurt is not right. I would never stop. but what a thought. I fell. i hurt so bad, but there is nothing better, I'm glad i had with the burn of pain follows with the wave of appreciation of happy recognition, of simple smiles, content feeling time to feel in a place of healing I found laughter,i got up I am stronger.
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Feb 3, 2012
Feb 3, 2012 at 5:00 PM UTC
I am Stronger
I am stronger A jungle grows inside of me, filled with hope and love A mystery's inside of me, that flows in sky above and branches reach for sun, but bound by dirt and earth and roots all tangle deep with in, fighting for whats good Beauty springing out from every new blooming flower a hatred came to beat it down, to steal the dirt from the ground frowns all placed on hatreds face, guilt its new grin it beat me down, I bow my chin shoulders fall in sadness, tear fogged vision in this crazy madness trees tortured by blazing winds, breaking under pressure sky's cloud up, gloom is a screaming disaster Birds don't fill the air, there sweet song not heard anywhere but sun beams break through the daze forcing all hateful thoughts to hide away this new faze, this new place grows with satisfaction I am stronger I am stronger I built a world just for me, filled with happy serenity A confidence filled the walls, that had been made so tall bliss built the roads i walked along, free from signs I knew the rules and towers pierced the sky, and aimed for the stars and fences ran around, to force me to stay in what I'd found a angry shadow ripped it down, and in fear I looked around outside this world I know not of, but to stay around unheard of forced to venture, pushed from home at first I felt so alone cold ran for me, but I found I was saved by my own breath my warmth was beating inside my chest I didn't need my strong built stone I just needed to me, and to not be alone so I ventured into the unknown. I stumbled on a new type of stome I built, with no fences I built a home not a prison I am stronger I am stronger laughter it ran from me,and confusion struck mixed with inner conflict I became a mixing *** set down and forgot,boiling with emotions I set on fire, burned a liar, stuck in a endless cycle More then society puts on me, more then other battles I've been through this one stopped me in my steps, I don't want this forever dread rip this darkness from my head, blood a simple sacrifice but there hurt is not right. I would never stop. but what a thought. I fell. i hurt so bad, but there is nothing better, I'm glad i had with the burn of pain follows with the wave of appreciation of happy recognition, of simple smiles, content feeling time to feel in a place of healing I found laughter,i got up I am stronger.
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50
LIVING IN A WILDERNESS October 2, 2009 – Damascus, Syria Ayad Gharbawi I see my eyes Reverting Bulging inwards Yet, speaking outside Of shrill fears Feeling hues and nuances indefinable Lovely contrasts Jagged emotions, Acres of mutilated humans Serrated teeth Severing carotid veins Jugular explosions Blood frothing inside Mine mind That throws itself Weeping far too low On this strangled ground Near my skin Far too many times I’ve felt, seen, experienced blazing humiliations Searing slicing fear That I can never ever Describe to you And so I’m writing for no one I know Listen to these skeletal notes Being played out Manic piano loving my drunk guitar Producing acoustic screams Hurling within My hatreds That need to prop my reason of d‘etre Isn’t that language Being expressed Spouted out Created forth frothing from these experiences That are harrowing?
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Jan 28, 2010
Jan 28, 2010 at 8:06 AM UTC
Living In A Wilderness
Set your aim well narrow your eyes to see where hatreds dwell. It's everywhere in the land with guns in our hand we are fighting a war brother against brother a battle without cessation nation against nation settle with the bullet more right is which faith decide with gunfire which race is placed higher for centuries the same story battles make bulk history. Races raged cities burned but we never learn to build one world city one humanity only aim further well narrow our eyes to see where differences dwell.
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Feb 10, 2017
Feb 10, 2017 at 5:09 PM UTC
A Gun in my Hand
Humans are truly pitiful things We are born weak We are born with nothing Yet we desire everything Especially those things that we can not have But we do not have a care for one another The happiness of those that surround us is never given a second thought Yet there are some who break the mold Who utterly shatter any precepts of what a human being is And should be And ever could become There are those of us that say **** the rules There are those of that have forever heard the phrase "life isn't fair" and are sick and god **** tired of it, those of us who are working to make that statement a relic of history Those of use who place others happiness on the forefront of our mind before even our own Those of us who forget ourselves in order to keep another from losing them self. There are those of us that say ***** the rules and live by our own motto Those of us who kick hatreds *** in an attempt to give every single person in the world the one thing that everyone deserves The one thing that everyone is entitled to: Happiness.
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Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 5:45 PM UTC
Humans are Pitiful
Have you noticed how the music screams, How children in the mall confront, How anchormen are filled with glee When TV news disaster's front? Noticed how the colours fade When iridescent seas are fouled Or skies turn turgid grey from blue And football crowds scream hatred loud? And why is it that every time An ethnic immigrant complains, He points the finger square at us, The fools, whose benefits he claims? And Asiatic hatreds brew Between the Indian brother’s, brown, Over Kashmir’s shaky border fight And Pakistan’s deep, angry frown. There’s trouble in the Middle East Kalashnikovs shoot up the town, Somebody soon, should tell those boys When slugs go up, they must come down. And what about the filthy beasts Who scatter needles in the sand To leave the fickle fall of dice To innocents with tender hand. Have you noticed how the wealthy keep The good stuff for their selfish self? The rest of WE are left to fight Amongst ourselves for lowest shelf And how about Ghaddafi’s end So brutal at the sandy drain Where wild eyed Arabs shot him dead And TV watchers, fat, complained? And listen to the moaning Greeks Who’ve clearly lived beyond their means, Complain about austerity And pauperize their Europeans. And witness now the howling Yanks Who stand to point recession’s claws Directing blame at anyone, But themselves, whom problems cause. And finally an Arabesque, Macabre in its grotesque call, Of skeletal, Ethiopian forlorn Whose starving end, ignored by all. There’s beauty in this bounteous world, There’s Godly, good, and quiet serene, But just beneath the surface lies The human filth, deserved, obscene. Marshalg Observing my world in turmoil. Auckland N.Z. 22 October 2011
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Oct 21, 2011
Oct 21, 2011 at 3:48 PM UTC
Have You noticed How the Music Screams?
Have you noticed how the music screams, How children in the mall confront, How anchormen are filled with glee When TV news disaster's front? Noticed how the colours fade When iridescent seas are fouled Or skies turn turgid grey from blue And football crowds scream hatred loud? And why is it that every time An ethnic immigrant complains, He points the finger square at us, The fools, whose benefits he claims? And Asiatic hatreds brew Between the Indian brother’s, brown, Over Kashmir’s shaky border fight And Pakistan’s deep, angry frown. There’s trouble in the Middle East Kalashnikovs shoot up the town, Somebody soon, should tell those boys When slugs go up, they must come down. And what about the filthy beasts Who scatter needles in the sand To leave the fickle fall of dice To innocents with tender hand. Have you noticed how the wealthy keep The good stuff for their selfish self? The rest of WE are left to fight Amongst ourselves for lowest shelf And how about Ghaddafi’s end So brutal at the sandy drain Where wild eyed Arabs shot him dead And TV watchers, fat, complained? And listen to the moaning Greeks Who’ve clearly lived beyond their means, Complain about austerity And pauperize their Europeans. And witness now the howling Yanks Who stand to point recession’s claws Directing blame at anyone, But themselves, whom problems cause. And finally an Arabesque, Macabre in its grotesque call, Of skeletal, Ethiopian forlorn Whose starving end, ignored by all. There’s beauty in this bounteous world, There’s Godly, good, and quiet serene, But just beneath the surface lies The human filth, deserved, obscene. Marshalg Observing my world in turmoil. Auckland N.Z. 22 October 2011
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52
catch a person, of African/Asian/European/Amerikan/Antipodean extraction, by the prejudices. When she/he files a fatuous complaint at the Court of Human Responsibilities let him/her board a Plane back to where she/he came from clutching a Louis Vuiton goody bag full of strings of meaningless associated but fine sounding politicians speeches, and as much moolah as he can carry and several contracts to appear on reality TV. Food for the journey will be a Cup of bitter gall and a rapidly melting Vanilla Ice-Cream containing at least 20 chemicals that will destroy his/her ability to synthesise Testosterone. Inflight entertainment will consist of the oft repeated lies of all major "religions"spoken in oh so sincere voices, by old paedophiles wearing bedsheets, consumed with stupidity and hatreds that are thousands of years old ******* stewardesses and bottomless stewards will hand out suicide tablets with cheery smiles and hearty cries of "Bon Voyage!!
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Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 3:41 PM UTC
Eenie meenie minie mo
Okay, it's time to sail. So what's stopping you? Now, if you a minority? You have heard this from them. Why? Don't you go back from where you come from? And if black you have heard this the most, why don't you go back to Africa? Now, wait? The boat is waiting for all these whites hatreds folks to sail. England, Scotland, Ireland strange all three end with the word "land". So what stopping you? You upset. You enraged. You mad for what? Cause you can't control the directive of a changing society. Strangest thing, many never visit England sent the troublemakers from their country to the new land to become America. So the boat is waiting Your choice to depart. We have planes to get you to any country outside of America. And I forgot there is Germany. Then don't live in Oz. Many of you might not be accepted back.
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Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 9:50 AM UTC
The Boat Is Waiting
Am I in Love? At night, laying sleepless, I bemoan the treacheries of life with my love and appreciation.... And though, in my dark, and cavernous foundations; Roar the pillars of stone, and shake them. Waked, by curiosity, and interest, I stare intently at you, and though I cannot see, You are there. Tangible, by my creativity, and invisible, by my negativity. And through the secret game that to many, has forbidden name we speak. Fear, and pride, my greatest hatreds, now run through me, though the game of Predator, and Prey. I am the prey, of myself, in the black vapors of my confusion, you two rought me with confusion elaborate, and woe, despicable. My thoughts now strand off into many divisions, all joining together, to reveal my fear, of disappointing you. The thing we connect through bings, and so we remain in contact, it seems. But ever, we thought beautiful I am marred, and proved untruthful. You do not deserve me, but somehow in this void-feeling heart of mine, I sense you care. I care. Am i in love? My Mind craves you, and I put much emphasis on that, for that, might, just might, be my undoing. Should I look to the East, to find you, riding, in shining, and metallic armor, And see only dust clouds roam aimlessly from North to South. But I hear banners, in the West, all risen high, as high hopes, and high spirits, to guide them. This, is what I've waited for, for years, as do we all. But my misinterpretations, now lead the banners, with silver swords, bearing the name of hate. with this, I deserve only to lay my head down, lamely, for you to hew it from me, and call it, Victory. This, I forsee, this unsensible and crazed sight, that passes through me, and guides me to all darker paths of light. So that I may be dimmed, and in a cycle refrained, I should, as a doomsayer, say my doom, and I, as a fool, should subconciously make that true. This is what I see. I fear, for you, and fear, for me. I burden all, though a child and my will is heavy, upon you, and wild, is my desires and should you penetrate my curtains, you should see, the cold bitterness, of my truth. But all the while, mind and soul crave you, and body revives, slowly, but surely. I sense love, and my stomach churns, knowing I shall hang my head in Guilt. Am I In Love?
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Jul 10, 2010
Jul 10, 2010 at 3:26 PM UTC
Am I In Love?
Am I in Love? At night, laying sleepless, I bemoan the treacheries of life with my love and appreciation.... And though, in my dark, and cavernous foundations; Roar the pillars of stone, and shake them. Waked, by curiosity, and interest, I stare intently at you, and though I cannot see, You are there. Tangible, by my creativity, and invisible, by my negativity. And through the secret game that to many, has forbidden name we speak. Fear, and pride, my greatest hatreds, now run through me, though the game of Predator, and Prey. I am the prey, of myself, in the black vapors of my confusion, you two rought me with confusion elaborate, and woe, despicable. My thoughts now strand off into many divisions, all joining together, to reveal my fear, of disappointing you. The thing we connect through bings, and so we remain in contact, it seems. But ever, we thought beautiful I am marred, and proved untruthful. You do not deserve me, but somehow in this void-feeling heart of mine, I sense you care. I care. Am i in love? My Mind craves you, and I put much emphasis on that, for that, might, just might, be my undoing. Should I look to the East, to find you, riding, in shining, and metallic armor, And see only dust clouds roam aimlessly from North to South. But I hear banners, in the West, all risen high, as high hopes, and high spirits, to guide them. This, is what I've waited for, for years, as do we all. But my misinterpretations, now lead the banners, with silver swords, bearing the name of hate. with this, I deserve only to lay my head down, lamely, for you to hew it from me, and call it, Victory. This, I forsee, this unsensible and crazed sight, that passes through me, and guides me to all darker paths of light. So that I may be dimmed, and in a cycle refrained, I should, as a doomsayer, say my doom, and I, as a fool, should subconciously make that true. This is what I see. I fear, for you, and fear, for me. I burden all, though a child and my will is heavy, upon you, and wild, is my desires and should you penetrate my curtains, you should see, the cold bitterness, of my truth. But all the while, mind and soul crave you, and body revives, slowly, but surely. I sense love, and my stomach churns, knowing I shall hang my head in Guilt. Am I In Love?
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114
My anger is a gift. My anger is a gift And for, that you will not acquit me. So judge me. I get it, You wanna stick up for the little man But what are the terms and conditions you got written on your hand? Is that freedom? Determined to rid the vermin Hatreds poisonous venom Annihilation of oppression By concreting a standard that fits your balance? Fascism Disguised by liberal ways. Cause the left won the culture war And we must fulfill the agenda to save the day. Or is it about the money? With a buck in my right hand And my left fist full of pills grasping in half prayer for rehab They say I need help. My mental status is high on bad health I'm caged in my brain, All 9 circles of hell With no guiding light, I'm always told to tread light My heart beats questions, my words start fights. I am the snow storm of Capricorn Loose chains around my neck Pentacles Cups Wands Swords Astro-Tarot cross burns with no exhaust At the bottom of the gate, You can see my bones in Lucifer's mouth. So why do I feel angelic? My anger is prolific Biblical scriptures leave me destined for heathen obsessions. I am the division No balance without permission My air fuels fires and creates unison. I am destruction But rebirth in the same phase. Cycling the celestial waives Swearing in God's name. I can't be the only one Who feels that condescending thumb We must create a stage to fit the population who wants to express their pain to his son. But its crowded, About to cave. The weight of the world will be best defined in mass graves. And here comes my gift. My anger is my bliss. I can't come to grips on why the world is the way it is. I respect this age for hands raised in rage. But I will be quick to slap down others who think they are center stage. I'll break anyone's four walls and follow Shakespeare in a Socratic annoyance. This is a moment of clairvoyance Repeat these words with me and find a voice; Solve Coagula Solve Coagula Dissolve the paradigm To form a new life Solve Coagula Solve Coagula My gift to the world Is written on my arms.
0
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 12:56 PM UTC
3/14/18
My anger is a gift. My anger is a gift And for, that you will not acquit me. So judge me. I get it, You wanna stick up for the little man But what are the terms and conditions you got written on your hand? Is that freedom? Determined to rid the vermin Hatreds poisonous venom Annihilation of oppression By concreting a standard that fits your balance? Fascism Disguised by liberal ways. Cause the left won the culture war And we must fulfill the agenda to save the day. Or is it about the money? With a buck in my right hand And my left fist full of pills grasping in half prayer for rehab They say I need help. My mental status is high on bad health I'm caged in my brain, All 9 circles of hell With no guiding light, I'm always told to tread light My heart beats questions, my words start fights. I am the snow storm of Capricorn Loose chains around my neck Pentacles Cups Wands Swords Astro-Tarot cross burns with no exhaust At the bottom of the gate, You can see my bones in Lucifer's mouth. So why do I feel angelic? My anger is prolific Biblical scriptures leave me destined for heathen obsessions. I am the division No balance without permission My air fuels fires and creates unison. I am destruction But rebirth in the same phase. Cycling the celestial waives Swearing in God's name. I can't be the only one Who feels that condescending thumb We must create a stage to fit the population who wants to express their pain to his son. But its crowded, About to cave. The weight of the world will be best defined in mass graves. And here comes my gift. My anger is my bliss. I can't come to grips on why the world is the way it is. I respect this age for hands raised in rage. But I will be quick to slap down others who think they are center stage. I'll break anyone's four walls and follow Shakespeare in a Socratic annoyance. This is a moment of clairvoyance Repeat these words with me and find a voice; Solve Coagula Solve Coagula Dissolve the paradigm To form a new life Solve Coagula Solve Coagula My gift to the world Is written on my arms.
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74
The day starts off bitter and dark Splattered and splotched with watermarks From tears of us forced to watch Battle cause against battle cause Shoulders flaked in hatreds frost Rolling rocks collect no moss Foes and friends this war has cost Who could have thunk who would have thought A world like this would take top billing A time like this would come of age Raising fists in fits of rage Here's the pauper where's the sage Keeping truth locked in a cage Same old look different name Nothing's changed it's all the same Unknown ghosts make us afraid Set the date cut the cake A world like this is quite revealing Unless you find you like the lies Being spewed out on all sides From the upper left to the lower right As we feed the hand that bites It's a case of do or die Whatever it takes to win the fight Sign of the times I  me mine Raise your hand and close your eyes In this world of truth concealing They're keeping score behind closed doors Where they have mine and they have yours Where the disease thinks it's the cure And only peace can come through war If that's not enough there's more in store Times are rotten to the core Days like these are hard to ignore Once we've opened Pandora's door A world like this is hard in its dealings A world like this is primed for stealing A world like this has lost all meaning A world like this is in it's keeping A world like this...
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Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 11:14 AM UTC
A World Like This...
I just want to write Until there are... No words left unwritten, No feelings left unhidden, No voices left unspoken, No hatreds left unforgiven. Because this is my avenue to express... hope and despair, happiness and sadness, loyalty and betrayal, fantasy and mystery, And everything in between. All in one poetry
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Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 1:22 PM UTC
My Kind of Drug
They say opposites attract, But I can't say the same for me and you, We are completely the same which makes our hatreds Grow stronger. Why? Why do we still remain merged, Once we came to that realization, That we were never meant to be, We struggle to keep the relationship going, We destroy ourselves, To create the facade of happiness.
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Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 4:47 PM UTC
Diabolic Lovers
Black and shiny Sleek and gray Pure white Gorgeous Bay Flaring nostrils Wild eyes Thundering hooves The spirit never dies Free to roam wherever's chosen Free of hatreds awful poison A soul of freedom, a heart so pure and true Beautiful beasts galloping silently in the dew. ©Crystal Erickson
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Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 11:20 PM UTC
Wild Horses