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Isabella Sep 2013
If you haven’t fallen in love with someone yet,
And haven’t spent countless nights wondering how their voice saves you,
Or how their laugh is such a beautiful melody you cannot put into words,
Then you are lucky.

If you haven’t fallen in love with someone yet,
Then you haven’t felt the first love butterflies,
Or the quiet sound of eyelashes against each other’s cheek,
As you kiss them for the first time.
Then you are lucky.

If you haven’t fallen in love with someone yet,
You don’t understand the feeling when they hold you close,
As if gravity could never keep them down to Earth.
Then you are lucky.

If you haven’t fallen in love with someone yet,
You haven’t felt the exploding emotion of feelings,
And feeling like you heart and soul will combust into dust,
When they say they love you for the first time.
Then you are lucky.

If you haven’t fallen in love with someone yet,
You haven’t felt the red hot anger building in your throat,
And the tears coming down like waves from your eyes,
When the love suddenly goes away.
Then you are lucky.

If you haven’t fallen in love with someone yet,
Then you cannot understand the emotion,
Or the words you wish you could form,
When they say the same words to someone else.
And you feel like an old photograph that was lost in the attic.
Then you are lucky.

If you haven’t fallen in love with someone yet,
You do not know what it feels to watch your heart fall apart,
And crumble like soft rock dissolving in water,
Knowing you could never love someone as much you had loved them.

If you haven’t fallen in love with someone yet,
Then you are lucky.
Ricky Apr 2018
Intro: Anne-Marie]
Ooooh-oh, ooooh-woh
Ooooh-oh, ooooh-woh

[Verse 1: Anne-Marie]
You say you love me, I say you crazy
We're nothing more than friends
You're not my lover, more like a brother
I known you since we were like ten, yeah

[Refrain: Anne-Marie]
Don't mess it up, talking that ****
Only gonna push me away, that's it!
When you say you love me, that make me crazy
Here we go again

[Pre-Chorus: Anne-Marie]
Don't go look at me with that look in your eye
You really ain't going away without a fight
You can't be reasoned with, I'm done being polite
I've told you one, two, three, four, five, six thousand times

[Chorus: Anne-Marie]
Haven't I made it obvious?
Haven't I made it clear?
Want me to spell it out for you?
Haven't I made it obvious?
Haven't I made it clear?
Want me to spell it out for you?

[Verse 2: Anne-Marie]
Have you got no shame? You looking insane
Turning up at my door
It's two in the morning, the rain is pouring
Haven't we been here before?

[Refrain: Anne-Marie]
Don't mess it up, talking that ****
Only gonna push me away, that's it!
Have you got no shame? You looking insane
Here we go again

[Pre-Chorus: Anne-Marie]
So don't go look at me with that look in your eye
You really ain't going away without a fight
You can't be reasoned with, I'm done being polite
I've told you one, two, three, four, five, six thousand times

[Chorus: Anne-Marie]
Haven't I made it obvious? (Haven't I made it?)
Haven't I made it clear? (Haven't I made it clear?)
Want me to spell it out for you?
Haven't I made it obvious?
Haven't I made it clear? (Haven't I?)
Want me to spell it out for you? (to spell it out for you?)

[Bridge: Anne-Marie]
That's how you f** spell "friends"
Get that **** inside your head
No, no, yeah, uh, ahh
We're just friends

[Pre-Chorus: Anne-Marie]
So don't go look at me with that look in your eye
You really ain't going nowhere without a fight
You can't be reasoned with, I'm done being polite
I've told you one, two, three, four, five, six thousand times

[Chorus: Anne-Marie]
Haven't I made it obvious? (Have I not made it obvious?)
Haven't I made it clear? (Yeah, I made it very clear)
Want me to spell it out for you? (Yo)
F-R-I-E-N-D-S (I said F-R-I-E-N-D-S)
Haven't I made it obvious? (I made it very obvious)
Haven't I made it clear? (I made it very clear)
Want me to spell it out for you?

[Outro: Anne-Marie]
Mmm, ooh, ooh, ooh
Ah, ah-oh, ah-oh
Lorem Ipsum Dec 2017
We haven't talked in quite some time
I know
I haven't been the best
Of sons, hello, I've been traveling in the desert of my mind
And I
Haven't found a drop
Of life
I haven't found a drop
Of you, I haven't found a drop
I haven't found a drop
Of water
I try desperately to run through the sand
As I hold the water in the palm of my hand
'Cause it's all that I have and it's all that I need and
The waves of the water mean nothing to me
But I try my best and all that I can
To hold tightly onto what's left in my hand
But no matter how, how tightly I will strain
The sand will slow me down and the water will drain
I'm just being dramatic, in fact, I'm only at it again
As an addict with a pen, who's addicted to the wind
As it blows me back and forth, mindless, spineless, and pretend
Of course I'll be here again, see you tomorrow, but it's the end of today
End of my ways as a walking denial
My trial was filed as a crazy suicidal head case
But you specialize in dying, you hear me screaming "father"
And I'm lying here just crying, so wash me with your water
I haven't talked in quite some time
I know
I haven't been the best
Of sons, hello, I've been traveling in the desert of my mind
And I
I haven't found a drop
Of life
I haven't found a drop
Of you
I haven't found a drop
I haven't found a drop
Of water

Songwriters: Joseph Tyler Harris
Addict with a Pen lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc
Alyanne Cooper Jul 2010
For awhile now i’ve been trying to find some sense of solace
or some place of serenity in a haven that only i know of.
I’ve filled countless pages with the ideas and notions
that would shape and build those walls of my haven
to keep all the things that would render me broken
and hurt away from my world and sliver of sunshine.
It’s gone now. That haven i claimed.
pushed aside like an unwanted fly,
someone else claimed my haven.
My haven of words, of language, of prose and poetry.
The only escape i knew i not only loved but was good at.
The only thing i ever felt a sense of pride in doing.
The only place i ever felt i belonged. My haven.
it’s gone.
she took it. just like she’s taken so many other things from me.
my strength, my joy, my self-worth, my childhood, my soul.
without my haven, i’m an armadillo continuously rolled up
so as not to feel the sticks and stones raining down on me.
the armor thickens and the bones stiffen in place.
It’s not so easy for me to be gentle now.
It’s not so easy for me to unroll my armor.
All i know now is this life without the walls of my haven.
no sense of joy in words, in language, in prose or poetry.
outside the sunshine, outside the haven, there is only numbness…
Phoenix93 May 2013
Yeah, I'm still writing. It reminds me that I'm still alive.
That I haven't given up. I haven't surrendered to the knife..

Somehow, I'm still here. These sheets haven't been stained red.
I keep fighting. I keep struggling. I haven't surrendered to death.

And I haven't given in. I haven't tried to break my friends.
I haven't shared the pain. I haven't surrendered to the darkness.

I've given warnings, and a very small taste of what's yet to come.
I've retained my longest promise.. I haven't surrendered my love.

I'm keeping this fire burning. The monster continues his fight.
And though I'm right there with him.. I haven't surrendered my life.

I've thought up my revenge. I've contemplated all the many ways.
But I keep them all in my head. I haven't surrendered my faith.

Yeah, it breaks me to remember all of the times that I have cried.
But I still have strength left. Because the sweet surrender is denied.
Here is the Earth,
far from the Haven
where thee and my son
are sleeping soundly
I see but my son sleeps
still sleeps on my chest
I love him and he loves me too -

Here is the Earth
far from the Haven
where the lake and the hill
twist with each other  
hill lies but the lake
sleeps on her chest
lake devotes on
and hill cherishes too

Here is the Earth
far from the Haven
there the moon shimmers
on my old window
where moon laughs and
my dreams are rising slowly
moon kisses my dreams
and dream kisses her too

There is the Haven
far from the Earth
here Earth kisses the haven
but Haven never
Here Earth is lonely
but there Haven is full
Earth missed the Haven
but Haven never

@ Musfiq us shaleheen
Earth and Haven, though separate entity but both we feel within our hopes and loves.
forestfaith Jun 2018
Maybe I should just let go and let love show me the way.
Maybe I should start a conversation a friendship that would last throughout the ages.
Maybe I should do everything in love for the other. For the Love of God.
Maybe, I have been doing it all wrong.
That I haven't been loving.
That I haven't been kind.
That I haven't been compassionate.
That I haven't been there for them
That I haven't been caring.
That I haven't been speaking for those who have no voice.
That I have been too silent.
That I haven't been beside those who are sick.
That I haven't been the one to place my hand on another shoulder .
That I haven't been the one to comfort.
That I haven't been the one to sit with a lonely other.
That I haven't been the one to love.
To love another. No matter what.
To love the right places.
To love.
That I haven't been the one to love...
to love...
to love...
Ben May 2013
The Morning After Part I
What the hell have I done? It feels like my temples are about to explode and the early morning light burns my eyes. My shirt is missing and I’m curled up on my Lovesac. I glance to the left to see Alice is sprawled out on my air mattress. She looks drained, even while asleep, and I think that I probably look a lot worse. Last night… What happened last night? It’s all just a jumble, my memories out of order. It’s a flash of colors, sounds, feelings and sensations, a blur in my mind. It feels like a tilt-a-whirl of sensory overload and I kind of want to puke. Then, like a dam breaking, fragments of memories flood my mind in a sickening torrent, too much, too much. ****. It’s starting to come back and that’s not even remotely helping, just making it worse. I feel even more confused and all I can think is What Happened…?

Ok! Let’s Party!
a three am party a trip edge
a witching hour emprise time to begin
a black and white strip of paper so thin
it looked so harmless, inconspicuous, even then
five hits for me, four hits for you,
placed under our tongues, we expectantly raise
eyes round the dark room for a white rabbits maze
or floating cat ears and Cheshire grin
the seconds pass, then minutes do spin
nothing shifts or shapes, bends or breaks
we wander to seats, choose movie to play
Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World comes to life on screen in a blaze

Trip # Cats Everywhere
“WE ARE *** BOB-OMB 1 2 3 4 - !”
cats are crawling slinking stalking
their eyes are glowing growing pulsing
and bodies moving sinuously serpentine
flowing round the corners of my eyes
fleeing from sight like shadowy wraiths
insubstantial  sensory stimulation

Trip # ****** Coma
“WE ARE *** BOB-OMB 1 2 3 4!”
Haven’t I seen this before?...

ringing blue lightning flashes razor sharp quick
cutting my mind in jaw breaking half
gasping for air I lunge forward hard
and break into silence, stillness, calm.
you have to remember to breathe
when things get fuzzy or funny or anytime now
otherwise sanity slips like water through fingers
or like rabbits down tunnels
on time to lost minds and messy motor control
****** coma, giddy, ecstatic, inescapable, unrelenting

Trip # I’m Melting
“WE ARE *** BOB-OMB 1 2 3 4!”
Haven’t I seen this before?...

I have to **** but the whole world is breathing
standing and swaying every step an adventure
entranced by the swirly dripping dropping walls
i barely stay balanced though trousers do fall
relief, ahhh, glance down what the ****!?
maniacal laughter rings through the room
I’m melting I’m melting in big drops and small
being pulled ever downward but never disappearing
warm like candle wax, thick and viscous
I’m leaving a trail of me on the floor

Trip # Music
“WE ARE *** BOB-OMB 1 2 3 4!”
Haven’t I seen this before?...

complex strains of sounds by vibrations
subtly influence the mood in the room
emotions experienced changing by song
upbeat pulse lively down tempo drops dangerous
I can feel the sound envelope my soul
Alice enraptured marries the music
sitting on moment to swaying the next
pressed up against me, blink, appears on by wall
(don’t drink and drive, take acid and teleport)
this controlling cacophony swells then settles
an ocean unseen deciding the trip

Trip # Alone
“WE ARE *** BOB-OMB 1 2 3 4!”
Haven’t I seen this before?...

Alice embarks on adventure to leave
a trip to the restroom a momentous maze
breathe deep and hold, keep it together
I slip from this plane to a place so strange
the chair is moving and so is her hat
were they ever just objects or always alive
pink and white fur slithers up in answer
caressing my arms sensual depraved
the laughter returns ever occurring involuntary
in fast rolling eyes at madness do gaze
I cavort around with fluffy new friends
tumbling and squirming wiggly worming
the fun never ends the fun never ends
“are you ok?” – Alice inquires
back after minutes turned hours
“is this how it feels to know you’re insane”

Trip # ******
“WE ARE *** BOB-OMB 1 2 3 4!”
Haven’t I seen this before?...

the blurry lights shimmer in colorful haze
I swim towards the surface lost in a daze
“hush now hush now you’re ok”
“how long was I out for” a question…a phrase
“ten minutes this time” “it felt like days”
harder to come back, feels like I’m drowning in rain
blood mixes clear with needle in vein
and fading to black and fading to grey
the blurry lights shimmer in colorful haze
I swim towards the surface lost in a daze
“hush now hush now you’re ok”
“how long was I out for” a question…a phrase
“ten minutes this time” “it felt like days”
harder to come back, feels like I’m drowning in rain
blood mixes clear with needle in vein
and fading to black and fading to grey
the blurry lights shimmer in colorful haze
I swim towards the surface lost in a daze
“hush now hush now you’re ok”
“how long was I out for” a question…a phrase
“ten minutes this time” “it felt like days”
harder to come back, feels like I’m drowning in rain
blood mixes clear with needle in vein
and fading to black and fading to grey
“I haven’t slept in eight days”
a half muttered phrase
“what are you saying, it’s been 10 minutes”
alice mouths back with questioning gaze
fade to black

Trip # Telepathic
“WE ARE *** BOB-OMB 1 2 3 4!”
Haven’t I seen this before?...
“mhm yeah like what like yeah what”
“mhm like yeah like what oh what like yeah”
“mhm yeah like what oh **** like what huh oh what”
“mhm yeah like what oh yeah like what mhm ****”
mhm yeah **** like what oh mhm yeah what”
“wait what?”

Trip # Blue Gum Matrix
“WE ARE *** BOB-OMB 1 2 3 4!”
Haven’t I seen this before?...

bubbles bubbles popping in pink
filling my mouth with cotton clouds
sugary sweet deliciously soft
seducing my mind into boiling blue bliss
I don’t notice the binary program lurking through unconscious thought
uploading software for changing perception
the transition to fiction so seamless like silk
I’ve jacked into the system with every chew
it’s twothousandwhatever in metrohive Tokyo
the future is different yet still feels the same
Alice sits solitary in darkened apartment
with wires like web strung throughout the room
all tracing with tracers glowing in ambience a glistening path
to electrical heaven, a desktop computer
my visual sensors are booting and loading
with mechanical perfection clarity arrives
a robot, I robot, created as A.D.E.M.
(Artificially Developed Emotional eMulator)
or A **** Excellent Machine (self-titled)
I sit up and blink as synapses fire
electrical currents carried on nanobig wires
I go move towards alice and watch binary code scroll
plugged into the network a direct hacker helper
this job’s objectives flash ‘fore my face
“we’ve got a big heist, security’s tight”
the scene’s fading out, cameras pan to the night

Trip # In Which I See the Future
“WE ARE *** BOB-OMB 1 2 3 4!”
Haven’t I seen this before?...

Alice and I curl up as one
excessive I know on this excessive night
but excessively is as excessively done, the social norm
it’s experience together and not alone
that draws us closer to breathe in unison
a chance to express feeling in this
uncharted sensory undertaking
together hearts beat in arrhythmic understanding
a feeling of pleasure creeps down my spine
and spreads out in ripples turning to waves
crashing and breaking on the sweet shore of…
alone in the bathroom I reflect on actions
for minutes and hours and finally days
I watch myself age and age and go grey
tormented by thoughts of actions and actions
guilt like creeping mold consumes my visage
decrepit and wasted I stumble from chambers
to find five am clock arms right in my face…

The Morning After Part II**
lysergic acid diethylamide.... an adventure every time
Helios Alatza Oct 2017
i haven't been writing.
and i do
and don't
know why.

i haven't been writing
because you
don't deserve it.

you uncaring masses.

cruel souls.

i haven't been writing
because art;
both others And
my own
ceases to carry much weight.

i haven't been writing
because you
who would love me
are the Same
who hate others.

or myself, also,
once you dug deeper
than your questions
veiled in superficiality.

i haven't been writing
because too many
dogs are dying

i haven't been writing
because i fear
i am fraud;
unable to recognize
my influences.

i haven't been writing
and i don't Know
whether it should
bother me
or not.
Haley Jan 2013
I'll complain a lot
if you haven't noticed already.

I'll think too much
if you haven't noticed already.

I'll make myself crazy
if you haven't noticed already.

I'll try to give up
if you haven't noticed already.

I'll never know what to say
if you haven't noticed already.

I'll get jealous easily
if you haven't noticed already.

I'll change my mind quite a bit
if you haven't noticed already

I'll love you forever
if you haven't noticed already.
I haven’t done this in a while
Is it silly to be nervous?

My door bell rings
My heart speeds
Mother calls “Daisy!”
And I realize she means me

I haven’t done this in a while
Is it foolish to be restless?

I take the steps one by one
Being sure not to topple down
The door creaks open and
I can see him standing there now.

I haven’t done this in a while
Is it odd to jump into his arms?

He smiles at me and my mother
He answers questions from my father
Everything is perfect
But I can’t help but fidget.

I haven’t done this in a while
Is it wrong to want to run?

We leave the house and walk down
A path of many flowers
I’m unsure what to think
But I find myself counting the hours.

I haven’t done this in a while
Is it childish to hold his hand?

I get into his car
Smoothing my skirt and catching breaths
He pulls out something for me now
And my heart takes a rest.

I haven’t done this in a while
Is it alright to try to kiss him?

I smell the Daisies, white and lush
Loyally loving and so gentle
Does he know I cherish them such?

Not just for the name we share
Or the thorns they lack unlike roses
Not for the simplicity of their petals so fair
But for the meaning behind them

Loving, loyal; so gentle, so innocent

I haven’t done this in a while
But I think I can handle it now.
Shae May 2014
I wish I could say the words
That always seemed to be stuck
In my head or in my throat
Now, you’re a thousand miles away
And I still haven’t told you
We made tents and I thought that
Should have been fun
But you ruined tents for me too
You’re a thousand miles away
And I still haven’t told you
Ranch dressing on everything you ate
A common occurrence of yours
That I do not miss
You’re a thousand miles away
And I still haven’t told you
You showed me the music you liked – “Hollywood Undead”
I still think they ****
You’re a thousand miles away
And I still haven’t told you
Your excessive piercings and stupid tattoos
Have changed mom and dad’s views on teenagers
Thanks for taking that stage in life from me
Just another thing you took
Remember when I told on you
And you were mad
I never told again
You’re a thousand miles away
And I still haven’t told you
Sometimes when I think about that tent
I can’t breathe
And my mind takes me back to that place again
You’re a thousand miles away
And I still haven’t told you
I’m not happy with the person I am today
I’m not happy at all
I’m not happy that I can’t seem to forget
That ******* tent
It’s your fault
I was only little
I didn’t know
You’re a thousand miles away
And I still haven’t told you
I didn’t realize what I wanted
I didn’t realize that what I wanted was missing
I didn’t realize that what I wanted was missing because you took it
You’re a thousand miles away
And I have to tell you
I want my innocence back
- {ksf}
Jenni Littzi May 2018
I need you more than rainfall in deserts
Even more than shelter during a storm
And more than the sun provides Earth
I thrive in part from you, giving me life
Like oxygen keeps all us continuing on
To any flower, like a lily in growth
Longing for water and the rising sun
Like that, I also perk up when we talk

I need a safe place to hide and stay
Just for a little while to get away
I’m lucky that you are my Haven
Sheltering me from life’s evilness
On those days that I just need caring
You are my Haven, protecting me
With all there is, you’re all I need
Like a dose of medicine; my Haven

I love you like a wandering, lost soul
Whose finally found their answer
And can now rest, while peaceful
I love you more than I knew I could
Since I thought somebody like you
Was a myth, dream, and impossible
I love the butterflies, as we touch
To the comfort level we’ve accomplished

You’re my safe place to hide, to stay
Just for a little while to get away
I’m lucky that you are my Haven
Sheltering me from life’s evilness
On those days that I just need caring
You are my Haven, protecting me
With all there is, you’re all I need
Every breath I take is a moment

I am waiting for your embrace
Your kiss can cure any distress
I would be lost, I’d be such a mess
And still searching for my Prince
As without you here, by my side
I’d feel incomplete, but now I see
Only your existence within my eyes
I need a safe place to hide and stay

Just for a little while to get away
I’m lucky that you are my Haven
Sheltering me from life’s evilness
On those days that I just need caring
You are my Haven, protecting me
With all there is, you’re all I need
Sometimes I’ve given up on myself
But you greatly have reminded me

That there is hope for everybody
Even this girl at her absolute worse
I no longer feel mistaken or cursed
‘Cause when the bad comes my way…
I’m lucky that you are my Haven
Sheltering me from life’s evilness
With all there is, you’re all I need
Like a dose of medicine; my Haven
Love Jul 2015
I haven't been myself.
I haven't bled in two months.
I haven't wrote in over a month.
I haven't exercised in three weeks.
I haven't picked up a book in two weeks.
I haven't had a panic attack in five days.
I haven't slept in three days.
I haven't cried in two days.
I haven't missed you in...
Jude kyrie Nov 2016
Haven Lane
Jude Kyrie

The night brings dreams where specters host
Old memories coming alive like forgotten  ghost
I am looking to find  haven lane.
The place where i will be safe again.
Down the pathway
Along to the sea
I find the roads
but not for me.
In the fog the house lights glow
Blinking in air as white as snow

Where is my mother  she's here again
Cutting fruit for a pie at haven Lane
Her old  chair creaking in pain
As she carves apple skins at haven lane.

I know she's there at haven lane.
I must find haven lane again.
Grandmother cast a stitch of knitting
It's shapeless length the moments flitting.
growing stitch by stitch as she is sitting.
Clicking ceaselessly  in Haven Lane
Knit one purl one cast one
Clickity clicking again and again

Outside, In the fog, I feel the pain.
Cutting my flesh wide open again
Dreams  wash away in the morning rain
I am Lost and alone like haven lane
Dreamscapes and nightmares
thelemonpolice Jul 2018
I'm sitting
in my room
A million things I haven't done

I write a list
make me efficient
so I think I've won

But the list grows everyday
I find
Another thing that I'm

Not happy with
down to
My hips
unruly thoughts decline

I haven't learnt how to drive
I only drive you to insanity

I need to get a job
But I need more time to
make vanity

Or art is what I call it
Praising self love is important

Maybe self love is distorted
When it's me who's ill informed. With

everything I say I mean it
Is it even a perspective

To keep rhyming words
In hopes to turn
My self-doubt introspective

I haven't written any books
I haven't challenged any norms
I haven't discussed anything
With disgust
in any way that's formal

I haven't climbed a large mountain
Haven't volunteered abroad
I haven't found the one who'd love me
despite all my open flaws

Then again, I have done a lot
I wander round to stop the dust
I don't like settling, there's better things
if you want to leave, you must

It makes me sick, all of my past
I want to burn and recreate
As if my life is just an album
Can I re record this take?
Xyns Sep 2017
I could love you and hold you close
Make magic out of these memories
You wouldn't deny my offered dose
Or make a mess of my mental faculties

Dismay in the fact that you don't exist
Perhaps we haven't met yet
All these unfelt feelings that I've expressed
Perhaps we haven't met yet

I should put more merit behind youth
More merit behind these anomalies
To others in this world, we'd remain aloof
And to the stress that accompanies

It's out there; I know you exist
We probably haven't met yet
All the unfelt feelings that I've expressed
We probably haven't met yet

Past flames on which I've burnt myself
We're not fireproof or flame retardant
Flings condensed to pages idling on my shelves
Feelings like prisons from which we're pardoned

Wondering aimless; we both exist
We just haven't met yet
Unfelt feelings that'll be expressed
We just haven't met yet

Feeling less lonely when feeling together
Being held close and not by empty arms
Text me; call me doll whenever
I'll protect you from any harm

I think I'll love you; I know you exist
*We just haven't met yet
Alex Jensen Jan 2014
I am alone
Snow drifts to the dead earth
Floating in gentle waves of cold malice
It sweeps across the perished
Seeming to devour us,
Me, my Haven, and the death surrounding us
The wind whispers across my frozen land
Gently caressing my Haven
No longer bringing feeble death to all
As there is no longer the living
This Haven is mine
It protects, shields
But provides no safety
Only I am left, trapped
I am forever here
Forbidden of leaving
I am left here with the perished
The victims of my Haven
Left with nothing
No emotion or other thing
No other being but me
Only emptiness
As they silently fall
My tears freeze
They will forever stay there
Just the as the ripples surrounding me
The frozen earth that was once my home
And has now become my haven
Forever surrounding me
Keeping me for eternity,
Keeping me from myself
Keeping me from pain and happiness alike
This, is my Haven
Barbod Gif Jan 2015
I reached a conclusion the other day
when I was contemplating
the regret phenomenon :

You don't feel regret for the things you've done,
you feel regret for the things you haven't;
You don't feel regret for the words you've said,
you feel regret for the ones you haven't;
You don't feel regret for the love you've expressed,
you feel regret for the love you haven't;
You don't feel regret for the lips you've kissed,  
you feel regret for the ones you haven't;
You don't feel regret for the hands you've held,  
you feel regret for the hands you haven't;
You don't feel regret for the smiles you've thrown,  
you feel regret for the ones you haven't;
You don't feel regret for the things you've done,  
you feel regret for the things you haven't;
Richie Vincent Sep 2018
Stressed mother to overwhelmed son,
“You look really tired today”

Overwhelmed son to stressed mother,
“I just haven’t been able to sleep well lately, but I am okay”

Empty beer bottle to overwhelmed son’s mouth,
You will drink me until you cannot feel anything else,
Cigarette ad to overwhelmed son,
It would be so easy for you to love my smoke again,
Overwhelmed son,
“I will get through this, even if it kills me one day”

Overworked father to overwhelmed son,
“You haven’t left your bed besides work, and even when you come home, the first thing you do is go to bed, and I am worried about you”

Overwhelmed son to overworked father,
“I just haven’t been able to sleep well lately, but I am okay”

I just haven’t been able to sleep well lately,
But I am okay

Education to overwhelmed son,
Your debt is heavier than the world and you will be paying for the things you haven’t learned for the rest of your life,
Overwhelmed son,
Everything is as heavy as the world, and I will break and get crushed until my body is sand on the beaches of the oceans I’ll never get the chance to visit

When I was 5 years old I visited Disney World, and the fireworks there burned brighter than anything I had ever seen before,
When I was 16 years old, I was burning bridges and cigarettes until I could no longer cross relationships and friendships and no amount of nicotine could make my lungs happy enough

But I will slip, and I will still burn, and I will never learn how to swim, and my lungs stopped knowing happiness when I breathed in anxiety and exhaled depression,
When I stopped breathing in oxygen and replaced it with fire, when I stopped exhaling full breaths and started exhaling as little as I could,
I don’t want to pass out, I want to keep as much as I can because I know I will never get it back  

And I will be alone in this because I have forgotten how to trust,
And I will live like this until I can no longer trust myself

Overwhelmed son to worried mother and father,
“I just haven’t been able to sleep well lately, but I am okay”

*I just haven’t been able to sleep well lately, but I am okay
We haven't come too far
from those drunken nights
on the floor, eating gummy bears
infused with *****

or from stickering everything in the kitchen
so we know what names to call the appliances

         Not too far
         from those times spent
         lounging around the bedroom

         a dozen of us, head to foot
         and everyone toeing
         the border between
         honesty and vulgarity

Some hung like a tapestry on the wall
and some sat watching ****
in the corner

while the rest passed a bottle around
and smoked with the window
constantly open

         We haven't come too far
         from the late night
         liquor runs

or from smuggling bottles
out under our shirts

Or from smuggling flasks
in on free pool night
when we were too broke
for ***** or fun

We haven't come too far
from spilling drinks
by the jukebox

Or going out back for a smoke

      Not too far from
      cleaning up the house
      after a party

      and throwing another one
      to celebrate
Vladimir s Krebs Dec 2015
let the state of mind release into peace.
all the stress please leave me alone.
breath by breath all my life flashes behind me.
i'm not going insane but i have that dark heavy feeling that just sufficating.
all the darkness that has pushed me down slowly tearing me apart all around.
all the people in class have said wispers behind my back.
but my fight will never stop sun set to sun rise.
the weight of darkness runs wild like wild fire burning every thing that was beauty. but now lies.
every step i take one foot after the other. my impresion in the sand. will fade away and come back.

i leave to find my cozy safe haven that i can spread my new colorfull wings and warm them up spread them wide.
my safe haven is full of joy no one can find it cause youl just have a fight to get to me.
my breathes show when the cold weather go' next *** is a feild of roses that drip the new spring dew.

my life is filled with chaos and hectic things i don't under stand.
what is the reason you only just hold me down and drive me ******* crazy.

i have a safe haven where i just think pondering about my ideas that can change life and improve the blood shed to leave and go away.

my life has been stronger that any one who has try'd fail'd and lost the fight.

but i have a place that is filled with life that never dies i have a place to vent and ponder and let my thoughts out to think about what could change.


you could tear me appart by my wings will grow stronger and maybe ill sheil'd you from the bulletsthat will hit you.

i take breathes of air and clear m mind of the danger i will never escape.

but every breath i take makes a new place that i can go to to just release the anger/ that floods my vaines.

im a vary shy person but that never will change the way i see this world threw my eyes of this world that lies to me like paper that burns in the hand of the devil or demonic  ******* that just rip your (*******) (HEART) out.

my shyness lets me just watch this world an all its moves.

to me this world is like a vary vary big (CHESS GAMES) every peace is a pawn that moves to the place where you want to follow a path to lead the king or queen to fredmon.

every breath is seen when the winter starts to let heavy snow fall consume your mind.

the train tracks i walk my tracks stay the snow fall is so thick i will follow till you look ahead and just see me vanish in to the white.

my breath breath the fog on the cold dryry days.

i may be alive but deep down i am scared and beat but yet i still walk this world with no regrets only ideas that can change this corrupt world that only teaches lies that make people riot.

my life is nothing but one big scare.
but ill never just sit down and cry ill just walk this earth till i die.

if it aint black and white peck scratch and bit.

my eyes a vary blue as the kristal waters of of the gates to hell.

my breathes have nothing but ideas and people i want to leave my life.

every breath fills my lunges with energy that i can harn's and breath out fire that is nothing but my stress.

stress has riped my life apart but every new scare of wound ill manage.

my min d is strong as lifes demonic eliments.

ill never let this world leave me behind cause ill always be watching your every move.
every fight i  take in is all the night mars that will **** your soul away leaving nothing but a broken lie .

my safe haven has hid me well away from your ****** up lies that have twisted that ******* smile off your face. my save haven has my life to recover from the **** society  throws my way when darkness fills my lungs i want to go on a ram page that will drown all you out from me.

nothing is great noting is promising nothing is good or bad nothing is good nor evil. life has the rads and paths that you can make life.

i might be quiet by my eyes listen as so ears my words have nothing nice to say but that's only cause were alive.

day by day the weather changes so dose my mood.

but every one in my life is a lie.

my safe haven is my sheild that blockes the words the texts have no effect.

this life with lies have no effect. on me that only creates wounds not love or like.

my simple words words of HATE ANGER  back stabbing words that only dig your own grave that you have started when you were able to starting to talk. talking

life has led  me to insanity or insane but if you just followed a path maybe you can make your own safe haven that will not scare you.

if i tell you it only take one person to start a wave of love caring and compassion to start people to love and follow a way.

it only takes one person who's voice had been silenced in the shadows.

ill take every breath it to take to show you all a world from my point of how i see it to show how life can be made  to survive and maybe ill show you my one idea and path i want to show love.

only one person it takes to spread a world of love .

thank you my  breathing saved my anger now my breathes leave out the  harsh but ill never get knocked down ccause my safe haven has saved me from this world of fear anger hate lies societys tricks but all of tho  have

MADE ME GROW WISE WITH  answeres of life
i had anxiety
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2016
before i pull this one out of my *** (again - listen, these words are not coming from either head or heart, it's best to pull them from the bowels, a gut-wrenching-feeling is more potent than that "something" that "something" delusional pulled from a clenched heart... as far as i know, the brain is incapable of emotions, it doesn't understand them, and since it doesn't understand them: it ridicules them)... which brings me to point:

(a) perhaps the idea of a soul is out-dated... why wouldn't it be, 21g worth of breath does not equal a soul... hence the autopsy of man, each detail studied seperately, the cardiologist knows the heart, the neurologist the brain etc., but some items work in a solipsistic mode... the heart is robotic, automaton pump queen (and not the kind of pump you'd get from Shveeden) - thump thump thump! come to think of it, most of our bodies are robotic, automated... lucky for me: i don't have to think about the heart doing what it does, it just per se does it... i'm not even sure i'm gifted with the a.i. brain functions... but there's an underlying principle that governs all of these items... some call it the self... i prefer: the Σ ultimatum... some would call it soul... but there has to be something akin to the Σ ultimatum that allows me to become detached from this body, while at the same time be bound to it: high blood pressure, heart attack on the horizon... take the high blood pressure pills... ****... what was (b)? oh... yes...

(b) i'm sorry, virginity doesn't cut it for me, lucky me that it was isabella of grenoble that allowed me to move aside from: god, prior to losing my virginity.... roxette: do you feel excited, you're still the one (shanaia twain), fade to black - metallica... i was such a romantic before i lost this dreaded curse... i was a romantic... 19th century style romanticism... but you really can see past this sort of romanticism unless you haven't ******... these days the right complains about cultural marxism: plenty of things to complain about... it makes as much sense as a pickle in a dollop of custard... or cooking with pale indian ale to make a stew: bad idea... wine, brandy, cider? fine... beer? terrible idea to cook with... but unless you haven't lost your virginity, you can't see what cultural marxism chose as its opponent: cultural darwinism... you know how little you hear about darwinism outside of the english speaking world? zero to none, yes, it's an accepted fact, but this fact does not permeate outside of the fact per se, the fact contains itself and the whole subsequent narrative because subconsciously stored... no other people than the people who found it ensure there are subplot proof statements of a reconfirmation of the validity... the whole social science bogus trap of rating people on looks... contradicting the meritocracy of that old Socratic saying: let me be as beautiful on the inside as on the outside... if you haven't ******: you're still the same old romantic i was at puberty... once you ****... well... cultural marxism dwarfs... yes yes it's there... so? but at the same time you can at least appreciate seeing the antithesis: cultural darwinism... the romantic needs to die the most carnal death via experience... all my ideals were shattered, this perfection of woman... i very much liked the idea / not even the ideal of a woman... but when the idea fizzled out and there was no ideal to begin with... i saw cultural darwinism for the very first time and... it was as ugly as cultural marxism so heavily criticized by the conservative right of the west... so... i decided to walk the middle ground, ignoring both sides (of the argument).

(c) i wouldn't have come up with a point see, unless my favorite square schematic didn't pop into my mind, Kantian, as ever: the best philosophy is the antithesis of English pragmatism and overt-politicisation, so it has to be German, ergo? i will not explain these terms, i figured: if i nail a decent example to fit each category, that's enough: since you can then visualize the concept via the example:

analytical a priori                           synthetic a priori
there's a need to throw                   learning
a ball at                                                to throw a ball
a target                                                 at a target once
                                                            ­  the need has been
                                                            ­  established...

synthetic a posteriori                    analytical a posteriori
there's a  need to                           perfecting to throw
      throw a ball at                               a ball at a target
a target, in order
to perfect this need...

                                            baseball..­. cricket...
at least: that's how i define knowledge of something
simple without having to use mathematics
that Kant used to explain... 2 + 2 = 4...
mathematics isn't exactly a man's best friend
at explaining philosophy...
you write philosophy that alligns itself
to mathematics... no wonder: moths in books...
yawns, unfinished works...
i found that sports work just as well
as mathematics... and you have the already
primitive objects to work with...
rather than pseudo-objects: i.e. numbers...
the abstracts of perception: i'm actually 6ft2...
not 6ft1... karolína plíšková is 6ft1...
       as noted when watching her today...

  i'll admit, i'm always a bit shaky when it comes
to this sqaure, whether it's over-simplified,
notably the top left corner: analytical a priori,
i'm always of a mindset that wants to associated
this definition with: analytical a- priori...
  i.e. borrowing from atheism:
    to analyse something without there
being a prior to example...
               analysis without a prior example...
i guess that's the mojo of science... the driving force...
back to sports... bow and arrow...
   tools: target...
       whether a bow and arrow and a deer
to begin with...
or a hand and ball and a wicket to end with...

there's a need to throw                  
a ball at a target...

            and cricket was the precursor of
baseball, but prior to cricket?
   there was archery...
              and prior to archery...
   there was forever a fundamental need,
e.g. to go from point X to point Z...
   see... as much as Kant wanted...
   numbers don't really solve the "problem"
of explaining something: algebra would be
better suited... x + y = z...
                    with numbers either hovering
above, or below (in the instance of chemistry's

talking of squares... sūdoku...
well, if at any time the french were to receive a hard-on
in terms of inventing something,
the english: rugby, cricket, football, tennis...
the french really did read some of the hebrew
qabbalah literature, as i am doing...
magic squares...
       the secular version of this puzzle
first appeared on july 6, 1895 (the modern version)...

it came to us from India and China...
again... why do western cultural darwinists
always tell our genesis from
the perspective of: "out of Africa"?
aren't there elephants in India?
            i will not believe i originated in Africa,
i'm not an "out of Africa" sorry state of
incompetence... i place my origins in
the sub-continent... at least that's where my
current language originates from...
the great migration across the Siberian tundra,
rather than some African savannah...
after all the Bangladeshi and the Sri Lankans
(the tear of India) resemble burnt cinnamon
in tone, some even as dark skinned as
east africans...
   if the germanic people want to stick to
the "out of Africa" narrative (notably the English):
let them have it... i place my origins in

   never mind, now i'll write a name's dropping
history of how july 6th, 1895 happened...
the "magic" squares...

    from either India or China (chess from India)...
moschopulus of contantinople
  introduced them (the "magic" squares)
in the early 1400s... apparently ancient qabbalists
had knowledge of them
  (so... a trip well spent)...
                             rabbi joseph tzayah (1505 - 1573)
magnum opus: responsa...
             rabbi joseph castro: avkat rokhel...
tzayah in jerusalem wrote his major work
Evven HaShoham (the onyx stone) - 1538 -
   a year later the book: tzeror ha-chaim discussing
the Talmud: he never really bothered about
the Zohar...
               the hebrai word for "letters": otiot...
divided into two:
                         tav aleph (a line of aleph)
and tav yod (a line of yod)...
                   one is to never concentrate
upon the keter within the realm of the sefirot...
hence the matisyahu expression:
   king without a crown...
                         one example of a "magic" square
later dictated into a 9 x 9 newspaper puzzle?
      2     9     4
      7     5     3
      6     1     8     (up down across = 15...
my date of birth? 15th may 1986,
no coincidence, just stating an oblivion's
worth of a "point)... 15 x 3 = 45...
   and that's about as significant as any
                               insignificance can be...

album of choice?
    old horn tooth - from the ghost grey depths...

and without even associating the arabs
to the hebrai practice of gamatria,
i once inquired an old pakistani (who tried to convert me)
what: Alif, Lam, Meem
implied in the opening of the al-baqarah sutra
   he replied: god knew...
        so i thought, you don't know what
alif (letter) what lam (letter) and meem (also a letter)
means? you have to search for god
for the answers? good look making me into
a proselyte... mind you:
if the jews abhor proselytes,
while the muslims are so so oh so *******
welcoming... isn't that a tad bit suspicious?
how can a muslim convert me
when he can't explain to me what
alif lam and meem implies at the opening
of al-baqarah?!
            let's play some hijāʾī order game...
and the three letters...
       28 letters in total...
alif (28), lam (6), meem (5)...
    i'm not even going to go into the gamatria
mental gymnsastics related to any
   point was made upon the question being
asked... if a muslim tries to covert you...
and he can't explain to you
the significance of alif lam meem at the beginning
of al-baqarah... they're letters...
well... how is he going to explain to you
what's bothersome about those letters
to begin with? ALM... does that imply: zakat?!
to give alms? zakat being one of the pillars
of islam?
  **** me... i haven't even converted
and it would appear: i know more than the person
who tried to convert me!

.i. Yuri Gagarin and the yo-yo

if ever the potency of a "keyboard crusader"
existed, it's now -
   i can dangle a mouse above a bear-trap
and tell an elephant of a phobia concerning
mice any day of the week,
          when in fact i'm talking about
a mousetrap: nothing more.
     hence the exaggeration in the imagery
        or it begins with a story told in the 20th
             when women put down their mascara
brushes, men put down their swords:
never mind the voice in the wilderness:
       mind the voice in the crowd -
there's absolutely no reason to speculate
urbanity and tribal environments without
addressing, or regressing the crowd,
or as i like to call it: what Nietzsche said,
minus the Wake... but now inclusive of the wake
and the Bacchus cult of fun fun fun.
            the Wake in condor terms?
we congregate praying for something to die...
      i don't pretend to be whatever
that sachet of concrete-Cartesian labels entitles me
too:        for the most part
        people say 'i am' without a thought to
govern the rain shaman telling you what thought
is required to 'be', oh, a very old ontological
stipend: you need people to experience a collectivisation,
a herding, a "bound together" sort of mentality
before the critic arrives and says: well, that's not
what i'm really about.
                    a bit like the **** firs, mouth second
                but what heart they had, our predecessors!
what heart!
             they'd wage war over a woman,
a Helen,
                  would you wage a war against
the feminist version of Helen these days?
would you pluck a Scottish thistle over an English rose?
      true: you might be a bishop
and of lesser rank... but would you wage a war
over the women of these days?
my **** is in a pickle jar anyway! we have become
a *** of a species unburdened by an obligation...
             finally! we can become eternal bachelors
sort of ******* that we're here, and hear less and less
of sayings about the "things that matter".
            you know what vile? really really vile?
oh i know my contemporaries when i bother to
hear them talk, oddly enough never bother when they
think, i'm quiet content with a Godot stage of
a park bench and an old man as my company,
      i know Douglas Murray,
               i know the wild-eyed Icke,
but a thing that concerns me is why: the safety room
parallel to the leftist thesis of offensive speech
was put in play when a discussion took off
concerning feminism, between milo yiannopoulus
and julie bindel - that's like saying:
ask a pederast to talk for a heterosexual man
with a woman safe-space...
                                no one wants to hear
the heterosexual side of the argument....
  you'll sooner see heterosexual intellects have their
marriages come undone then get paired with either
side of the argument...
     little richard is in the pickle jar anyway,
and he's not coming out...
                it's a bit like ****** for dummies....
       hence i have to succumb to violence without
the glory, tongue waggling blah blah
when i'd gladly take a weapon and shove it into
a shattered cranium bone: had i the ****** chance to
do so!
           no heterosexual is taken seriously:
and won't be:
    of a woman to be like a rosy cushion on which
i can lay my head after the darkly toils of
    roofing, or laying bricks, or excavating the sewers...
no! let the Chinese do that:
the basic argument of slavery, although imported
therefore ****** ******* fine.
                         cryogenic fathers,
      pickled *****:      where's the middle in all of this?
     a coconut just fell from the Boddhi tree:
money!           and those that defend it,
don't know squat about the tribalism of squatters!
but hey! they have the ****** stage!
         i have a bench when someone approaches me
and talk, doing the best thing possible:
               knitting opinions -
i don't want the truth of opinions: i want a sweater,
or a pair of socks! that's metaphor for something
different altogether.
  keyboard crusader? really? can i ask you for
directions to the high street, in every single town
across the country? i can't find one!
         no one hears a heterosexual argument
on the various topics: because there isn't one -
                     as of the end of the 20th century,
working classes in the west striving to ensure
there is something mundane to do during the day
and kick back with the family in the evening
are the "inferior" neanderthals: who
haven't jacked into discovering a 3D reality
of what's otherwise a 2D computer screen and
aren't hooked on #crack;
honestly, so much debating ought to be opera,
and so much opera ought to be debating -
    ah: that famous tingle of utopian paradoxes
never in duality, but always in dichotomy.
   keyboard crusader?
really? i thought people were always moaning
about how many emails they receive:
   and never a single postcard from, say,
someplace like Venice?
           it's still early days,
                   and already we're brewing enough
cliches to replace all known nouns in
    the surrogate mother that's the dictionary
of our completed version of a soul -
if ever to be experienced upon meeting the omni-vocabulary;
jigsaws, i know my idiosyncratic version
of events, he says photosynthesis within parameters
                            of photon deconstruction of hydrogen;
'cos' it's sub; d'uh! i say god i say this perfected
version of nearing telepathy - you say god i hope you
don't mean satan's clause - great anagram to frighten
children with: the Babushka surprise of a Pumpkin head
laughing it's way toward: how easy life would be
if we had all that time to think it through as being hard,
rather than that mortal fleetingness in both thought
and body.

ii. Macbeth

it really dawned on me, when i was watching the film
Macbeth (2015) -
            there was an eeriness to it, a near perfection
of Shakespeare on screen...
           honestly? i'd rather read Kant early on in life
while i have the vigour, and leave old age to Shakespeare...
but it truly was eerie all over the place.
      i do recall seeing Romeo + Juliet
          and reading the script, and imagining the fallacy
of word for word translation from theatre to cinema
of the script: the narrator a news channel anchor,
and everything said, word, for, word.
that film with DiCaprio as Romeo and Claire Danes
as Juliet - it just felt itchy, uncomfortable -
                            Shakespeare, word for word, on screen?!
     (surprise, then astonishment, not !? or astonishment,
   then the surprise, because: it didn't really work);
and it didn't! you can't adapt Shakespeare to the screen
and put everything in! i noticed it at that ******
generous scene in Macbeth concerning the battle
of Ellon... so i was like like... this isn't typescript...
(and thank **** it isn't) -
you can't depict Shakespeare word for word,
to be honest, Macbeth (2015) is the only worthy
translation of Macbeth (the text) into Macbeth (the movie);
all this scientific exactness in previous examples
like Romeo + Juliet, the Merchant of Venice
and a Midsummer's Night Dream don't work,
it's their precision making,
     a theatre cast can take it, but a cinema going crowd,
with all these cutting and copying and repasting
    succinct moments? it doesn't work!
maybe because there's no actual narrator in the staged
examples? narrator as a necessary character understudy:
surely Puck and the news anchor are there:
don't know about the Shylock scenario...
           but these screen adaptations didn't work for me,
too rigid, too formal... in the case of Macbeth?
finally! the long awaited piquant version of Shakespeare:
all that matters, and the rest is thrown into
poetic technique: imagery, metaphor,
                everything that's necessary can be given grammar
as image and not word!
       want an example? from the text...
the Royal Shakespeare
  from the text of Professor Delius
  and introduction by f. j. Furnivall, ll.d.
         vol. v (special edition)
Cassell & Company, Ltd.

        sure, it feels like a Roman Polanski moment
akin to the 9th Gate scenic affair of a bibliophile
fetishist, and it is:

     ... (the only enemy of enso poetry
is the bladder) ...

well the screen play first:

banquo: what are these?
macbeth: live you? or are you aught
                          that man may question?
       speak if you can - what are you?
1st witch: macbeth! hail to thee
                    thane of Glamis!
2nd witch: macbeth... hail to thee,
       thane of Cawdor!
3rd witch: all hail Macbeth! that shalt be king in-after.

but such disparity, such **** as if once
of Lucretia, then of the authority,
for i have before me the original composition:
which is not worth cinema -
nonetheless, a **** takes place:
an assortment for the abdication of a king:
or as ever suggested: the wrong footed path:
never was tossing a coin in a gamble
that of tossing a crown into the air
for a court jester to appear less amusing
and more scolding.

act i, scene iii: post the battle of ellon...
  if ever the refusal to give up Greek myth,
then Macbeth's witches
      and Perseus' Graeae -
                            or naturalise a myth:
like you might not naturalise a strengthened
economy.... canonise the nation
with Elgin Marbles - Elgin: less than
what's said to be the exfoliation of the Aegean -
a municipality somewhere in Scotland:
west of Aberdeen, on the Northern Sea's
battering of the coast...
but word for word? or how to write Shakespeare
into cinema?
                 herr zensor must come into play -
you have to bypass imagery in poetic tongue
and relay it with actual images, a direly needed

just after the three witches arrive,
enter Macbeth and Bonquo...

   Macb. so foul and fair a day i have not seen.
Ban. how far is't call'd to Fores? - what are these,
     so wither'd and so wild in their attire,
that look not like th' inhabitants o' the earth,
   and yet are on 't?
             live you? or are you aught that man may

                  (how word for word, but the words
waggle from a different tongue, namely that of
Macbeth, and not that of Banquo, hence
       you seem to understand me,
by each at once her choppy finger laying upon her
skinny lips: - you should be women, and yet your
beards forbid me to interpret that you are so.
Macb. speak, if you can - what are you?
         the witches. all hail, Macbeth!
     hail to thee, thane of Glamis!
         all hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane
of Cawdor!
         all hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter.
so does he really belong on the psychoanalytic
couch? is he really that necessarily wonton of talk?
  Cawdor v. Gondor - it's an ongoing narrative.
but is he in need of a couch?
                 what sort of talk is talk when
in fact the only talk that's need to be said is the talk
of man's sexualised naturalisation for strife,
and here: as if knocking on a door:
you want to simply hear the onomatopoeia of
the Kabbalah in a woman gasping for breath
while puny Jewish boys under strict rabbinical
studies study?

                mama, take this badge from  me,
i can't use it, anymore,
            it's getting dark, too dark to see,
feels like i'm knockin' on heaven's door -
      my big mouth and man as a piston
                                               Ferrari acrobat

(even the soundtrack is a shrill, a strangulation
variant of higher pitch of the bagpipes -
not that braveheart ****** of whisking out
a song like for the love of a princess addition to:
  and can i have a madonna to boot too?
it's piercing, a whale sonar above refrigerator
white noise hum for the new age Buddha -
and that's because all the poetry has been excavated
  to suit cinema: not theatre).

and this is the first adaptation of Shakespeare i actually
could stomach...
     the genius was in how Macbeth spoke the lines
of Bonqua - so the character didn't start smacking
the narrative ****** in terms of solipsism:
even Shakespeare can be attacked on this front...
        if in the movie Banqua said all that was in
the typescript: the film wouldn't have worked...
i don't know what the big deal is with Lady Macbeth:
i thought that in the olden days
Macbeth suggested to King Duncan that:
can i leave the warring if you **** my wife?
i can go on the contract that you **** my wife
and i stop serving you?
      first impressions: strange English.
well, i'm sure she's important as it might be said:
within the programme of Orthodoxy,
            but never catholic (metadoxy) tradition of
saying: way hey! ensnare the mare in a funfair!
       and play the game: pin the tale on the donkey!
heads or tails?      it looks pretty damnable
     in the first place: as all honesty hogs to pout and
***** a hoggish sneeze out of the story.

iii. shaken, not stirred

and indeed, how many a times
did not a neon blossom sprout,
thinking it might rattle an oratory
with an oak in autumn, and behold
a swarm of leaves descend -
not out of passing ease,
but out of wishful thinking
that some indentation might be made:
with whom the hands of will reside,
and yet: to no gratifying effect,
to whatever atomic-centralisation
dream, be that ego or be it hydrogen
(lending hands: so too
electric or thus negative, neutral and
thus proto) - shake foundation
and give a revising repertoire of
              the covering dust humanity
that once made famous: never
again to learn the humility of the start;
        to whatever centric dream that
does not waver in demands of orientation,
be it father (sun), son (shadow)
  or the holy spirit (night) -
  make them earn! be obscure!
            or simply say: in the community
of the stated congregation:
  i find all to be as night,
   and safer that plague the father:
  i am not akin to the shadow:
                   but the shadow in mirror.
so, a centric dream that does not
waver in demands for orientation,
has ever or will be enthroned in man's
heart as the stability of Sabbath's demands
       for less, oh so much less to agitate with!
as too, when the ancient appliances
were adorned by countless demands of
mimic, so too our modern
fibbles are to stage a usurping of
such things demanded and their mimic;
for with such disclosure does all fate
of anewed become burdened in what
history could be: shaken,
rather than simply a stirring of the void,
nothing more than the unburdening
of sweetening a cup of coffee, of that and
the layers: or bitter at the top, drank
through toward the sedimented sweetness -
and all that: hoping i could have retained
that silver spoon lodged in my ***
          when i first met her and thought about
consolidating marriage: so fresh, eager prune
of the flesh embodiment as first
    watered ash, then entombed in marble
and the eternal... ah
               but it was all just the faintest of dreams;
so lumberjack sleep ensued,
                      as did a kindred worth ethic:
we are a long way from Eden...
      there is but the idyll of the absurd fruition of
albreit macht frei... or a redefinement of
such stakes as: what occupies our days?
                    if not war, if not disease,
if not the Chinese... what does, occupy our days?
"I haven't been myself lately."

And when I say that I mean

I've been spending Friday nights alone in my room chugging a 2L bottle of wine,
instead of hanging out with my best friend.
Because as much as I can't stand to be alone
My head is screaming at me that I deserve to be.

I mean that I can't wake up for work in the morning because I spent all night
worrying about everything that's going to go wrong,
And decided it wasn't worth it.

I mean that I haven't seen the sun in days all I see is darkness and Mom I don't know how to find the light again.

I mean I can't remember what it feels like to want to WANT to be alive.
But I can tell you all of the reasons I think I should just die.

I mean I lost my motivation to care about myself and maybe the voice in my head is lying,
But I feel like no one really cares anyways and why would they care?

I mean on Saturday night I sat in my bed for hours rocking back and forth,
crying uncontrollably with a bottle of pills in my hands
And I almost did it.
But I thought of you.

I mean that when I woke up in the morning I woke up with regret because I had the chance to end it that night
But I'm still here and I can't live with this pain any longer.

I mean that everything is still the same except I feel like i don't know who I am anymore
And I'm scared mom.
I'm terrified.

I mean that I am scared to live mom but I'm also terrified to die.

So when I tell you I haven't felt like myself lately

I really mean I need help mom.

I need it soon.

But I'm too afraid to ask you.

I'm too afraid that you're going to worry so much that you too will end up in this darkness
And it will be my fault.

I'm too afraid you'll roll your eyes and say "things aren't as bad as they seem sweetie. They will get better."

Because I know on paper everything looks fine.

But if you stepped inside my mind for just a minute you'd come back screaming "THINGS WILL GET BETTER BUT HOW DO I GET THERE?"

I'm afraid you won't believe me and I'm afraid you won't understand because mom I don't even understand.

And I'm sorry, that this is your child.

I'm sorry I can't control this and I'm sorry I have to put you through this again.

I just haven't been myself lately mom.

I hope now you understand.
Nick Burns Jul 2010
I can't say that I'll make it out;
truth be told I'm lost here.
But, if I can just keep trudging on;
I'm sure to make it somewhere.

I've been dead to me.
I've been dead to you.
I haven't seen clearly,
like you always do.
But, I'm seeing now.
I'm believing now.
At least I know where
I've been sleeping now.

I haven't breathed in air in so **** long.
I haven't seen the sun in so **** long.
I haven't walked on land in so **** long.
I've been sleeping with the fishes;
I've been singing this song.

God, I've made a mess of things;
conducted hate and suffering.
I don't take advice for anything.
I'm a humble pie that's blistering.

I've been dead to me.
I've been dead to you.
I haven't seen clearly
like you always do.
But, I'm seeing now.
I'm believing now.
At least I know where
I've been sleeping now.

I haven't breathed in air in so **** long.
I haven't seen the sun in so **** long.
I haven't walked on land in so **** long.
I've been sleeping with the fishes and singing this song.
Nomad Apr 2014
Haven't you heard
of a silly little word?
No, little bird,
it's not you at all,
how ever that was quite smart of you,
smart of you doll.

Haven't you heard,
that the world's out to get us?
They'll do what ever they can, and say what they want,
just to put you under the bus!

Haven't you heard,
there's a war going on,
we fight the good fight, but now we hold for dawn?
It's hard and brutal, but onward we do march to-day,
We march, for our friends and neighbors,
even for our enemies we say.

Haven't they heard,
that we're not perfect, but we don't try to be,
that one day we'll see the Promised Land,
the Promised land we'll see.

Haven't they heard,
that there's a word,
that we all know and love.
It's the word, that we use so lightly,
think they know what we're thinking of?

We've heard it all before,
how love conquers all, but shatters on the floor,
but how can I stand quietly by,
as I see the love all stand to die?

Hear, hear!
Hear this cry!
Beware thine heart and not shed not a tear from thine eye!

Keep your chin up,
chest flat,
always know, you can do better than that.
But you're perfect,
with all your little flaws,
so fight for yourself and the others, with skin, nails tooth,
And when this fight is over, I'll see you by the corner booth.

Or haven't you heard?
We're A-L-L just a bit disturbed?

Oh but don't you worry,
no don't you fret,
we'll may lose our battles,
but we'll win this war yet!
Gaby Comprés May 2015
there are stars you
haven't seen
and loves you haven't loved
there's light you haven't felt
and sunrises yet to dawn
there are dreams
you haven't dreamt
and days you haven't lived
and nights you won't forget
and flowers yet to grow
and there is more to you
that you have yet to
RJ Apr 2015
My name
It slides from the tongue with ease
So simplistic and overused
Will I ever hear you say it again?
You haven't known me in too long

My eyes
The emerald green orbs
That glisten in the light
Are they still beautiful?
You haven't seen me in too long

My hair*
Those long dark strands that flow
With your insistence of moving it out of the way
Do you still want to see my face?
You haven't answered me in too long

Your name
It seems so contradictory
To the half smile on your face
I wonder if you still feel yourself
I haven't known you in too long

Your eyes
The dull beads that sit steady
Trying to avoid the worried gaze
Only to look right through me anyway
I haven't seen you in too long

Your hair
Short with an angelic glisten
Just the way you hate it
Your curls have been taken away
Like the many other parts of you
I haven't recognized you in too long

**You haven't recognized me in too long
Visually see someone forget you, with no way of stopping it happen.
scared melody, the sacred surgery. the sacramental  discrepancies
will remind us of the finer things
like circuitry and hurried dreams

despite what i've been reading it seems like the world has taken to leaning
on its side or on its head, we're sent careening
well past the point of believing

come at me with all the aggression in your possession
deny no weapons and don't wait for second guesses
because you always gave me that first impression
oh me oh my Nov 2012
They ask me if I still love you.

I blush, grin and say;

of course.


Because your eyes are of the most utter ocean blue,

but other days they're the currents of the stormy grey sea.

I see a current of salty water, deep, once blue, but now a faded grey.

I see a bundle of darkened grey clouds in the distance,

and the thunder rumbles from your irises,

and I hear it pound in the back of my mind.

I wonder if you knew.

I see a spark of lightening flash, only once in a while,

while you look at her.

My throat corrodes with bile.

She says she sees green demons lurking in the depth of my own ocean currents,

and I shrug.

What am I supposed to say?

I know you think about her.

Night and day.

The hardest part,

is a generic, old saying.

If you love them,

you let them go.

If they love you enough to stay,

or to come back,

you never let go.

But you haven't come back.
EDIT: Wow. Never expected this to blow up as big as it did. I thank you all so much!
EDIT: 2/15/14
i would say i never loved you, but that is a lie.
they say that your *first* love makes *you realize*, your first *love* wasnt really your first.
i pray for the day this happens.
*getting over you was the best thing i ever did.
and i did it for myself.*
so, one last:
EDIT: 9/14/14
i still hate you.
and you don't deserve her.
EDIT:   12/01/14
im sorry. you still arent
the same person
and neither is she.
but we all grow up.
Ember Evanescent Jan 2015
Don’t text me when you’re drunk
Don’t even say my name when you’re high
Don’t think about me when you’re with her
Don’t reduce my worth to that

I haven't heard from you in a while
I haven't pulled out your picture and looked at it in ages
I haven't written poetry about you in a long time
I haven't been missing you

You used to be more interested in books than Ecstasy
You used to swear for no reason less
You used to be kinder
You used to be what you aren't anymore

I secretly hope you've looked at my picture once or twice
I secretly hope you'll text me again one day
I secretly hope you miss me just a little bit
I secretly hope that if you ever decide to "miss me" again I have the strength and courage to say "That's nice."

not "I miss you too"
I need a distraction, but I need that distraction to be something new, and something alive, and preferably something with a cellphone and no girlfriend.
I feel like that's the only way to forget him.
You asked me why I haven't left yet.
I haven't left because you are worth fighting for.
I haven't left because you mean the world to me.
You brought light into a world I thought was doomed to be dark forever.
I haven't left because you didn't give up on me.
I haven't left because I can honestly say,
I think I'm in love with you
For jack
Sometimes you open yourself up to a person because you feel and believe that they're different and maybe this time they won't break your heart and that your love will be requitted. So you go out on a limb and open up so much of yourself to this person. Things that you're afraid to tell others about because of fear of being judged or rejected. But there's just something about this person that allows you to tell them everything. You become so comfortable in the presence of that person that you openly admit your flaws, you don't hide it. You just completely lose yourself in love and in the thought and concept of being loved, of being in a relationship and of being with someone that you can be yourself with. The idea of that person just completely excites you and everything about them makes you happy. Seeing them and hearing their voice just helps you in an inexplicable manner and being with them is an emotion of complete comfortability on its  own. You learn to love this person and you accept their flaws and differences. You accept how they might not necessarily love eating McDonalds as much as you do or they are crazy about sci-fi movies where you can't even get yourself past watching a chick flick.
But that's just it, you don't mind.
You don't mind because love is about sacrifices.
Its about sacrificing your weekly episode of The Vampire Diaries to watch the most recent sports updates.

Because you'd rather lose the argument than to lose the person. You'd sacrifice a part of your daily routine all for love. The worst part is that nothing is guaranteed. You're not guaranteed how long you will be in a relationship with this person. You're not guaranteed complete happiness and you're not guaranteed that things are going to be perfect. You just have to trust this person and have faith. Believe the best and hope that everything will work out for the. Best. Believe that even if you break up with this person, that you're going to be ok. Everything is going to be ok, and that new beginnings are perfectly acceptable. Believe that you're going to overcome heartbreak of any kind. You just have to believe that someone out there is looking for someone like you.
What others see Wrong in you just might be the exact thing that will make someone else fall in love with you. And you need to be realistic. Not all relationships last forever. Some relationships are there for lessons and experiences. So that very person that you completely open yourself up to, can break your heart. It could be during or even after the relationship.

But its all part of life I guess. You'll never know how to love someone wholeheartedly if you haven't been hurt before. You just have to turn your heartbreak in to something positive, make the most out of your situation. See the light in the darkness. But learn to deal with things too. Find closure in what happened to you and don't leave a relationship with unfinished business. Because unfinished business will have to be finished sooner or later, and I think sooner is better. Allow yourself time to heal too. Opening yourself up to someone that much can hurt you a lot, and everything you had with that person will be completely lost in an instant. And you're gonna need to come to terms with that. Remember that what's meant to be , will be.

Love, is a complicated thing, and you're never quite sure how things could possibly turn out to be. You're just gonna go out on a limb each time hoping for the best and patiently waiting for your happily ever after with a special person.
david badgerow Oct 2011
we could hold hands and walk along the beach,
but i just haven't met you yet

we could bake a cake on a lazy sunday morning,
but i just haven't met you yet

we could have *** on every flat surface of the house,
but i just haven't met you yet

we could fool around in public,
but i just haven't met you yet

we could share a silence then burst into laughter,
but i just haven't met you yet
Jacob Sykes Feb 2013
I haven’t ever known a sight unseen a sound unuttered
I haven’t ever felt a sadness that washed over wave after wave
I haven’t experienced unending depression that only pain will take away
I have felt pain
I have felt sadness
I have seen the scenes and uttered the sounds
I guess I am just one of those normal people
A face caught in an unending sea of hyperbole
I haven’t ever known me
Noandy Mar 2015
My vessels
My veins
My vessels
My fiend

My pen I never strayed
My lungs I do disdained
My legs not rightly placed
My hands, beyond tangled

This is just some words about
The ethereal wandering spine:
Made of hard candled wood
To be laid cold on the lane

The ghost of it, I dare say, wandered around
Spoken of shame and of the nomads
And in silence, it sew the raging sea
Into yarns of distraught constellation
All in this ill world, not above

The spine was of rage and of distress
Wished forever to stop standing still
And forever more, laid to rest
As broken bones, as thousand glasses
To be unnoticed and blend as well

Fifteen years of shame
Haven’t eaten
Fifteen years of shame
Haven’t beaten
But bathe in dirt

To blend means to fade away
And to fade means to accept
Annihilation and memories that may
Dangle from the tip of your bones

Why would you
Or the spine
Take it for granted,
wish it to be true?

Truth be told;
a spine helps you to stand still
Aside from your legs and your partial heart

if it wander aimlessly
Where would you belong,
and where would you stand?

But still the spine wanders around
To reign upright on its own
Then decorate beauty of its own
Oh, and perhaps, again
Blend in as well as to fade away

From you


Fifteen years of shame
Haven’t eaten
Fifteen years of shame
Haven’t beaten
But bathe in dirt—
And could not stay

Look at your spine
Which you can’t see,
why are you so sure
That it is there?

Look at the spines
On your surrounding:
Electric poles

Look at the spines
That stand on their own
Just a single stick
And nothing more.

Believed to be incapable
Wished to be broken shards
Ended up standing still
For eternity, for darkness beyond

And what are you
Without them?
Just a lump of flesh
A fabricated skin
An empty will
And nothing more

Living in
Fifteen years of shame
Haven’t eaten,
haven’t beaten
But bathe in dirt.

And what are we,
without them?
Just dark vessels
And distraught veins.

My vessels
My veins
My vessels
My fiend.
Afrodita Nestor May 2017
If you haven’t existed I would have created you
Written you word after word
With blue eyes and red lips
Like the dream I had that day
When my heart started beating again
As the rain whispered you exist

If you haven’t existed I would have created you
Written you row after row
With curly hair and invisible wings
So we could fly together above the clouds
Embraced as now
Day after day waiting for the sunrise

If you haven’t existed I would have created you
Written you page after page
With smiling eyes and gentle soul
Painted you in the colors of the light
So I could find you when it’s dark
And you could kiss me when it’s hard

If you haven’t existed I would have created you
Written you poem after poem
Drawn you line after line
Until my mind went completely blank
For you have countless rainbows inside your soul
Without which the world would not exist
Copyright Afrodita Nestor

— The End —