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"hinders" poems
I used to step on the solid ground The grey asphalt with li'l pebbles in black in it I used to walk with cemented pavement Where no one hinders me to enjoy the tack I'm in. You led me to the boat And together, we left the crowd My knees are shaking, as if I'm freezing You guided me to enter that narrow boat And I had nothing but myself to bring For it may sink with tons of extra things. We started sailing The curtained sky was the scene With lil stars painted on it And the depth of the ocean was present It bounces the crescent up there. I felt the wind brushed my hair He sounds so mad with the clouds supporting him My feet trembles with fear as my faith does. You are with me, oh Jesus And I asked you if you care For I may fall from where we are And you may not see it and forget I was there at all. Words come from your mouth And the wind listened with your sweet voice You brought peace and calmed my raging seas. I trust no one but You Even if I don't know how far but I'm ready though Oh held my hands indeed, Let my grip be frozen upon your hands. I'll sit and take a look at the vistas And move the boat as we sail You'll teach me how to act And wherever we'll go, You are with me. (6/4/2014 @xirlleelang)
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Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 10:50 PM UTC
The Boat is not Sinking
Why do you love the one you do? Arrogant as he lives Intriguing minds have not a clue. He cheats, he lies and receives your endless forgives Security he cannot propose Financially, spiritually, emotional or otherwise. Love unfaithfully he bestows Disguised as Christian he justifies. Smothered in the cocoon of his limited sphere, Hinders flight for the beautiful butterfly, Egotistically the coward oozes insincere. Sadly pondering, inquiring minds ask Why?
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Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 12:55 AM UTC
Why
[Dedicated to Austin Osman Spare] Have pity ! show no pity ! Those eyes that send such shivers Into my brain and spine : oh let them Flame like the ancient city Swallowed up by the sulphurous rivers When men let angels fret them ! Yea ! let the south wind blow, And the Turkish banner advance, And the word go out : No quarter ! But I shall hod thee -so ! While the boys and maidens dance About the shambles of slaughter ! I know thee who thou art, The inmost fiend that curlest Thy vampire tounge about Earth's corybantic heart, Hell's warrior that whirlest The darts of horror and doubt ! Thou knowest me who I am The inmost soul and saviour Of man ; what hieroglyph Of the dragon and the lamb Shall thou and I engrave here On Time's inscandescable cliff ? Look ! in the plished granite, Black as thy cartouche is with sins, I read the searing sentence That blasts the eyes that scan it : **** and SET be TWINS." A fico for repentance ! Ay ! O Son of my mother That snarled and clawed in her womb As now we rave in our rapture, I know thee, I love thee, brother ! Incestuous males that consumes The light and the life that we capture. Starve thou the soul of the world, Brother, as I the body ! Shall we not glut our lust On these wretches whom Fate hath hurled To a hell of jesus and shoddy, Dung and ethics and dust ? Thou as I art Fate. Coe then, conquer and kiss me ! Come ! what hinders? Believe me : This is the thought we await. The mark is fair ; can you miss me ? See, how subtly I writhe ! Strange runes and unknown sigils I trace in the trance that thrills us. Death ! how lithe, how blithe Are these male incestuous vigils ! Ah ! this is the spasm that kills us ! Wherefore I solemnly affirm This twofold Oneness at the term. Asar on Asi did beget Horus twin brother unto Set. Now Set and Horus kiss, to call The Soul of the Unnatural Forth from the dusk ; then nature slain Lets the Beyond be born again. This weird is of the tongue of Khem, The Conjuration used of them. Whoso shall speak it, let him die, His bowels rotting inwardly, Save he uncover and caress The God that lighteth his liesse.
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6k
The Twins
[Dedicated to Austin Osman Spare] Have pity ! show no pity ! Those eyes that send such shivers Into my brain and spine : oh let them Flame like the ancient city Swallowed up by the sulphurous rivers When men let angels fret them ! Yea ! let the south wind blow, And the Turkish banner advance, And the word go out : No quarter ! But I shall hod thee -so ! While the boys and maidens dance About the shambles of slaughter ! I know thee who thou art, The inmost fiend that curlest Thy vampire tounge about Earth's corybantic heart, Hell's warrior that whirlest The darts of horror and doubt ! Thou knowest me who I am The inmost soul and saviour Of man ; what hieroglyph Of the dragon and the lamb Shall thou and I engrave here On Time's inscandescable cliff ? Look ! in the plished granite, Black as thy cartouche is with sins, I read the searing sentence That blasts the eyes that scan it : **** and SET be TWINS." A fico for repentance ! Ay ! O Son of my mother That snarled and clawed in her womb As now we rave in our rapture, I know thee, I love thee, brother ! Incestuous males that consumes The light and the life that we capture. Starve thou the soul of the world, Brother, as I the body ! Shall we not glut our lust On these wretches whom Fate hath hurled To a hell of jesus and shoddy, Dung and ethics and dust ? Thou as I art Fate. Coe then, conquer and kiss me ! Come ! what hinders? Believe me : This is the thought we await. The mark is fair ; can you miss me ? See, how subtly I writhe ! Strange runes and unknown sigils I trace in the trance that thrills us. Death ! how lithe, how blithe Are these male incestuous vigils ! Ah ! this is the spasm that kills us ! Wherefore I solemnly affirm This twofold Oneness at the term. Asar on Asi did beget Horus twin brother unto Set. Now Set and Horus kiss, to call The Soul of the Unnatural Forth from the dusk ; then nature slain Lets the Beyond be born again. This weird is of the tongue of Khem, The Conjuration used of them. Whoso shall speak it, let him die, His bowels rotting inwardly, Save he uncover and caress The God that lighteth his liesse.
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68
Worthlessness: The state of feeling unimportant and useless. This type of feeling is one that hits you directly in the center of your core, picking at your soul. One that makes your stomach feel saggy and your eyes like craters of the sea that over flows and blurs your sight. Worthlessness is one that hinders the passing time as well your ability to move forward and it can come out of the void of extensive thinking. It can cause your words to errupt and crackle off your tongue, only to be washed away by the heavy rain into a puddle of regret and sorrow. All I see on the horizon is a dark blue hue that Cascades over the whole world. All I feel is the bitter, frozen winds and the soft snow that numbs my skin. All I can think of is black and grey clouds that wrap me up and block out any light that reaches out to me. All that I receive for my rescue is a big brown ship that says "I'm sorry, the weight you carry is too much for us", then sails away, leaving me to drown in the middle of the ocean.
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Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 3:31 PM UTC
Worthlessness
1. Love everything, and everyone. Thank the grass for being a soft place to fall, and those who own the arms of your safe place to crash. Love the girl who taunts you, love the boy who tries too hard. Love the woman who screams that you will never make it, love the man who stares a little too long. Do not waste too much time on loving yourself, for when you exude love you will receive it. You must love those who do not deserve it, and all the while you will receive love you do not deserve. For love is not a feeling, but an action. For love is not restraining, but freeing. 2. When you start to notice your reflection, remember that it does not matter. A soul needs a home, and your home is a fine home. Your body keeps your soul safe, and warm, and fed. So worry more about what you put into your mind than your mouth, and never forget that your soul cares not of the shape of it’s home. 3. When you see someone who is in need of help, they become your obligation. The only true way to understand a person is to love them, and the best way to love a person is to serve them. There is no man or woman who was born undeserved of love, and you ought to give more than you think your heart will allow. 4. When lost, know that you do not have one sole purpose. You have many facets, and many talents. Each day you may have a different purpose, and each day it may not be a grand one, but each day it is an important one. Be open to things you did not think of yourself capable, and know that nobody cares about your embarrassments more than yourself. 5. Every day of your life you will make mistakes, and if you think that you have to right to belittle others because of theirs then honey, I am here to tell you that you are wrong. Unfair judgment hinders understanding, which hinders the most important thing of all: love.   6. Forgive all, but do not trust all. Love all, but do not pleasure all. You are to lose yourself, to emerge yourself in the work and service of others. You are to overwhelm yourself with love and kindness, so much that it spills over. You are to give more than you have, and to take less than you need. 7. Do not worry about being happy. The search for happiness is never ending, and a path that has no destination. Lose yourself, and happiness will find you. Look for happiness, and you will lose it all.
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Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 4:28 AM UTC
7 Things I will tell my daughter
1. Love everything, and everyone. Thank the grass for being a soft place to fall, and those who own the arms of your safe place to crash. Love the girl who taunts you, love the boy who tries too hard. Love the woman who screams that you will never make it, love the man who stares a little too long. Do not waste too much time on loving yourself, for when you exude love you will receive it. You must love those who do not deserve it, and all the while you will receive love you do not deserve. For love is not a feeling, but an action. For love is not restraining, but freeing. 2. When you start to notice your reflection, remember that it does not matter. A soul needs a home, and your home is a fine home. Your body keeps your soul safe, and warm, and fed. So worry more about what you put into your mind than your mouth, and never forget that your soul cares not of the shape of it’s home. 3. When you see someone who is in need of help, they become your obligation. The only true way to understand a person is to love them, and the best way to love a person is to serve them. There is no man or woman who was born undeserved of love, and you ought to give more than you think your heart will allow. 4. When lost, know that you do not have one sole purpose. You have many facets, and many talents. Each day you may have a different purpose, and each day it may not be a grand one, but each day it is an important one. Be open to things you did not think of yourself capable, and know that nobody cares about your embarrassments more than yourself. 5. Every day of your life you will make mistakes, and if you think that you have to right to belittle others because of theirs then honey, I am here to tell you that you are wrong. Unfair judgment hinders understanding, which hinders the most important thing of all: love.   6. Forgive all, but do not trust all. Love all, but do not pleasure all. You are to lose yourself, to emerge yourself in the work and service of others. You are to overwhelm yourself with love and kindness, so much that it spills over. You are to give more than you have, and to take less than you need. 7. Do not worry about being happy. The search for happiness is never ending, and a path that has no destination. Lose yourself, and happiness will find you. Look for happiness, and you will lose it all.
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13
Saint Augustine! well hast thou said, That of our vices we can frame A ladder, if we will but tread Beneath our feet each deed of shame! All common things, each day’s events, That with the hour begin and end, Our pleasures and our discontents, Are rounds by which we may ascend. The low desire, the base design, That makes another’s virtues less; The revel of the ruddy wine, And all occasions of excess; The longing for ignoble things; The strife for triumph more than truth; The hardening of the heart, that brings Irreverence for the dreams of youth; All thoughts of ill; all evil deeds, That have their root in thoughts of ill; Whatever hinders or impedes The action of the nobler will;— All these must first be trampled down Beneath our feet, if we would gain In the bright fields of fair renown The right of eminent domain. We have not wings, we cannot soar; But we have feet to scale and climb By slow degrees, by more and more, The cloudy summits of our time. The mighty pyramids of stone That wedge-like cleave the desert airs, When nearer seen, and better known, Are but gigantic flights of stairs. The distant mountains, that uprear Their solid bastions to the skies, Are crossed by pathways, that appear As we to higher levels rise. The heights by great men reached and kept Were not attained by sudden flight, But they, while their companions slept, Were toiling upward in the night. Standing on what too long we bore With shoulders bent and downcast eyes, We may discern—unseen before— A path to higher destinies, Nor doom the irrevocable Past As wholly wasted, wholly vain, If, rising on its wrecks, at last To something nobler we attain.
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The Ladder Of St. Augustine
Saint Augustine! well hast thou said, That of our vices we can frame A ladder, if we will but tread Beneath our feet each deed of shame! All common things, each day’s events, That with the hour begin and end, Our pleasures and our discontents, Are rounds by which we may ascend. The low desire, the base design, That makes another’s virtues less; The revel of the ruddy wine, And all occasions of excess; The longing for ignoble things; The strife for triumph more than truth; The hardening of the heart, that brings Irreverence for the dreams of youth; All thoughts of ill; all evil deeds, That have their root in thoughts of ill; Whatever hinders or impedes The action of the nobler will;— All these must first be trampled down Beneath our feet, if we would gain In the bright fields of fair renown The right of eminent domain. We have not wings, we cannot soar; But we have feet to scale and climb By slow degrees, by more and more, The cloudy summits of our time. The mighty pyramids of stone That wedge-like cleave the desert airs, When nearer seen, and better known, Are but gigantic flights of stairs. The distant mountains, that uprear Their solid bastions to the skies, Are crossed by pathways, that appear As we to higher levels rise. The heights by great men reached and kept Were not attained by sudden flight, But they, while their companions slept, Were toiling upward in the night. Standing on what too long we bore With shoulders bent and downcast eyes, We may discern—unseen before— A path to higher destinies, Nor doom the irrevocable Past As wholly wasted, wholly vain, If, rising on its wrecks, at last To something nobler we attain.
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48
Poverty, a dagger of thousands years, shedding endlessly,the blood of beggars... Striving, suffering, crying, begging, Indeed,ready they,who you call Paupers,are to do anything, only to earn a living... On the edge of knives, poor ones lives their daily lives... The children,all set to walk towards education, but hunger hinders their concentration... Still they are ready to do anything, only to earn a living... Starvation and Malnutrition are mere words, compared to what they are really enduring... Like us, they have wishes, simple desires, wants to have: Proper water to drink, Proper food to eat, proper place to live... God we are not,but their small desires,we can satisfy.. Their fate,we can change, as their happiness,is still within range.. Together let's save the poor ones, because a simple act of caring can create an endless ripple... -Sharvish
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Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 1:06 PM UTC
Poverty
You feel like you want to run away, Every time you feel you want to take a flight But you still can't help it but to feel that fright Believe in yourself, taking not a sway You feel like you want to run away, Turning you gray and showing you what may Something hinders and tells you not Break free and untie that knot
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Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 10:47 PM UTC
Run Away
Life outlined by higher power Just few friends, without a lover Mind that doubts your every move Talent that's not self-doubt-proof Social anxiety that hinders your story A lust for approval and unattainable glory Afraid to talk, afraid to be seen A picture of future that's but a dream Nearing an asymptote of self-destruction Unable to perform basic human functions A coupe of rhymes, and just a "fine friend" a crater in heart that requires a mend What can you do? These are cards you were dealt But where is the fire that your mind will melt?
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Dec 8, 2021
Dec 8, 2021 at 4:32 PM UTC
Lamentations
She tells me of the loves she's found She tells of the loves she's lost And I linger to fix her broken wings At, I wonder, what cost So that she might go out with confidence To find heartbreak again It matters not, I've not forgot That I am still her friend That I am still her leaning post That I am her safety net Each night she goes whilst I stay And each day she pours her regrets Into my brain, Into my soul So I might empathize And I sit there stroking her hair And what she doesn't realize Is that I know her favorite color is yellow That her favorite song is "Almost Lover" That she went through a pregnancy scare And a fight with her dad from which she'll never recover That she giggles without fail whenever someone say "flabberghasted" And I know that she's had only five boyfriends None of which that have lasted I know she sings inside the shower Even though she may deny it I know she snores and drools on her pillow And that she prays someday Krispy Kreme doughnuts will come diet I know that she cries whenever she thinks too much That she looks forward to marriage The feeling of her husband's touch And someday a baby in a carriage And I know more than most about this girl The one with her head on my lap The one who's silent every time she cries Yet is snorting every time she laughs But here I sit with her alone Barred from going any farther than friend The girl whose afraid to lose me Who torments me without end The one who hinders my love for her And therefore invokes my selfishness Running on my brain in steel cletes While I feign happiness So pause time Because my words for her are unheard and few A chance is all I'd ask of her to show both my love and dedication are true And yet she stands in fear of not losing me But of getting in the deep end of the pool And thus lies the complex irony And why in life I play the fool For I am the love of her life that has been there And in heartbreak or joy, I'm all in Yet because of fear I stay a friend Ending where love should begin
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Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 9:38 AM UTC
Just Friends ******
She tells me of the loves she's found She tells of the loves she's lost And I linger to fix her broken wings At, I wonder, what cost So that she might go out with confidence To find heartbreak again It matters not, I've not forgot That I am still her friend That I am still her leaning post That I am her safety net Each night she goes whilst I stay And each day she pours her regrets Into my brain, Into my soul So I might empathize And I sit there stroking her hair And what she doesn't realize Is that I know her favorite color is yellow That her favorite song is "Almost Lover" That she went through a pregnancy scare And a fight with her dad from which she'll never recover That she giggles without fail whenever someone say "flabberghasted" And I know that she's had only five boyfriends None of which that have lasted I know she sings inside the shower Even though she may deny it I know she snores and drools on her pillow And that she prays someday Krispy Kreme doughnuts will come diet I know that she cries whenever she thinks too much That she looks forward to marriage The feeling of her husband's touch And someday a baby in a carriage And I know more than most about this girl The one with her head on my lap The one who's silent every time she cries Yet is snorting every time she laughs But here I sit with her alone Barred from going any farther than friend The girl whose afraid to lose me Who torments me without end The one who hinders my love for her And therefore invokes my selfishness Running on my brain in steel cletes While I feign happiness So pause time Because my words for her are unheard and few A chance is all I'd ask of her to show both my love and dedication are true And yet she stands in fear of not losing me But of getting in the deep end of the pool And thus lies the complex irony And why in life I play the fool For I am the love of her life that has been there And in heartbreak or joy, I'm all in Yet because of fear I stay a friend Ending where love should begin
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54
take some time to count, to verb some syllables for some wrecked page. a Lostman's book in **** tered thought; nature, and death, and sole body. then, when she talked about her better years as those of drug-induced past-life. younger than yesterday kinda years. that which finds metronome slowing, the Universe energy vibrating weaker while growth found in apathy, and solid death of purposeful movement.                          then a shot, that moment to break from wretched self- criticism -- that post-idyllic criticism -- that which hinders forward movement.            the shot, which finds contentedness thru some repetitious mentality . .                                                  [lost it]          . . repetitious fallacy?               [got it] let's leave some break for transmigration in thought to prelude of forward movement. understanding now is not enough; but agreement in hast. but dissolution to that self- efface hit rapid. brought back, her thought of the younger than yesterday years; now, now is the greatest point of any a count- less past-life. from them, no matter a sweating season, the Long Dark, or the cycle-seasons,              all is now. and never did she or i talk of the past again.                    our foci,         [one second] drawn to point of second and next second upon following and on for another. now, shivery wine-drunk, reminiscent of tiny furnace and woolen blanket apartment. that now, that was true striving of second successful ***** Den.         a great thought downfall; she's been long gone.             [next second now] she complained of the wind. her eyes were freezing, she said; her life has begun to bore her, she said. we moved to playground and climbed in the slide; a nice dampening. cold plastic barely felt for her. this Long Dark, and in it, an always fleeting warmth.                  [break                         to **** for concision in thought] now then, a diner, of course this face is known. they also know a companion vacant. asked of, pleasant enough; responded, well enough.        [disheartened, well enough] and then, wholly intrinsic with a blasphemous self- Oralee while passing time trying to think. unable, if only for sole point of trying. and epochs worth, thought and gone; now compulsive, now unres- ponsive, now chewing lips because they're part gum.
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Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 5:58 AM UTC
******* disgusting.
take some time to count, to verb some syllables for some wrecked page. a Lostman's book in **** tered thought; nature, and death, and sole body. then, when she talked about her better years as those of drug-induced past-life. younger than yesterday kinda years. that which finds metronome slowing, the Universe energy vibrating weaker while growth found in apathy, and solid death of purposeful movement.                          then a shot, that moment to break from wretched self- criticism -- that post-idyllic criticism -- that which hinders forward movement.            the shot, which finds contentedness thru some repetitious mentality . .                                                  [lost it]          . . repetitious fallacy?               [got it] let's leave some break for transmigration in thought to prelude of forward movement. understanding now is not enough; but agreement in hast. but dissolution to that self- efface hit rapid. brought back, her thought of the younger than yesterday years; now, now is the greatest point of any a count- less past-life. from them, no matter a sweating season, the Long Dark, or the cycle-seasons,              all is now. and never did she or i talk of the past again.                    our foci,         [one second] drawn to point of second and next second upon following and on for another. now, shivery wine-drunk, reminiscent of tiny furnace and woolen blanket apartment. that now, that was true striving of second successful ***** Den.         a great thought downfall; she's been long gone.             [next second now] she complained of the wind. her eyes were freezing, she said; her life has begun to bore her, she said. we moved to playground and climbed in the slide; a nice dampening. cold plastic barely felt for her. this Long Dark, and in it, an always fleeting warmth.                  [break                         to **** for concision in thought] now then, a diner, of course this face is known. they also know a companion vacant. asked of, pleasant enough; responded, well enough.        [disheartened, well enough] and then, wholly intrinsic with a blasphemous self- Oralee while passing time trying to think. unable, if only for sole point of trying. and epochs worth, thought and gone; now compulsive, now unres- ponsive, now chewing lips because they're part gum.
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57
Life is a continuous matter of common observation. It enables us to realize, that each one of us, is a vivid and complex mortal living an epic story. One that carries on and on invisibly around you, like an anthill sprawling deep underground with several elaborate passageways to thousands of lives that you won’t have the chance to know. As time passes us by, we can’t help the rushing flow of frightening responsibilities coming through our way. As a result, we tend to focus more on these perennially problematic things, instead of looking at the bigger picture, which hinders us from exploring the beautifully intricate world we live in. However, as human beings, even if we choose to neglect these duties and just start enjoying the moments we have to explore this diverse environment, we’d always be afraid of what’s going to happen next, or the consequences of our actions to the unknown future. It can’t be helped, as we are all fear mongering creatures, crippled by uncertainties that may never happen and not even affect us at all. Despite our poor condition as temporary mortals in this world, we must always keep in mind that we exist in this universe to see our world unfold on its own beyond our imagination. To be risky enough to find our own adventure to keep us sane from the struggles we face in life, to see beyond barriers that others find to be a simple dead end, to draw things you love close to empower you to do the best of what you can with your abilities, and to find your true purpose in this life to be able to feel alive with zeal and vigor. That, to me, that is the true meaning and quintessence of life.
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Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 6:39 PM UTC
The Quintessence of Life
Life is a continuous matter of common observation. It enables us to realize, that each one of us, is a vivid and complex mortal living an epic story. One that carries on and on invisibly around you, like an anthill sprawling deep underground with several elaborate passageways to thousands of lives that you won’t have the chance to know. As time passes us by, we can’t help the rushing flow of frightening responsibilities coming through our way. As a result, we tend to focus more on these perennially problematic things, instead of looking at the bigger picture, which hinders us from exploring the beautifully intricate world we live in. However, as human beings, even if we choose to neglect these duties and just start enjoying the moments we have to explore this diverse environment, we’d always be afraid of what’s going to happen next, or the consequences of our actions to the unknown future. It can’t be helped, as we are all fear mongering creatures, crippled by uncertainties that may never happen and not even affect us at all. Despite our poor condition as temporary mortals in this world, we must always keep in mind that we exist in this universe to see our world unfold on its own beyond our imagination. To be risky enough to find our own adventure to keep us sane from the struggles we face in life, to see beyond barriers that others find to be a simple dead end, to draw things you love close to empower you to do the best of what you can with your abilities, and to find your true purpose in this life to be able to feel alive with zeal and vigor. That, to me, that is the true meaning and quintessence of life.
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3
*It's been going on three years now, It gets worse and I talk about it less. Three years of swimming upstream In a river of cognitive stress. I don't recall what it's like To feel rested after a restful night. I don't remember not feeling high Simply because all of the lights are too bright. Friends presume that all is well But it hinders me every day. It is a dim room with stagnant air. Grey clouds that never change. I can't keep up anymore, It's far too much of a strain, Ever since the incident long ago That bludgeoned and blunted my brain. I trudge through every day Shoes weighted with lead. It feels like a dream Because it's all in my head.*
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Aug 12, 2016
Aug 12, 2016 at 6:58 PM UTC
Post Concussion Syndrome
Your soft voice Lifts my heavy heart Your sweet face Hinders my sour days Three words I say Are not just a phrase -JCM-
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Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 12:25 PM UTC
"Three words can change my life"
At the back of my mind, there are many thoughts, There's always that one voice, The voice convinced me of things, If not all the time, it will be some of the time. I never thought it could harm anyone, In particular, I never thought it could, But I underestimated the small voice, I misunderstood its determination. It takes control of me, feeding me, With thoughts that hinders me from living, Deters me from my path, Bind me from reality. I give in to it a couple of time, My weak self can't seem to win over it, Their determination overthrow my rationality, Controls my life and action. It tells me I'm not good enough, it tells me, I'm not worth it, it tells me things that hurts. It retreats sometime, and when it does,  I get so happy. I could be happy with no second thoughts,  I can respond. I can smile, I can laugh.   It felt liberating to do so. It felt as if everything are perfect;  my life is perfect. It made me forget. But then,  it didn't want me to forget. The chain that held them captive wasn't strong enough, So they broke free, they resurfaces. "I'm back" it claims. - ponder
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Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 10:32 PM UTC
Deepest Mind
An exit for expression An admittance with no fee A mind free from excluding An exhibition without end The centerpiece- an installation Ever moving within its frame Its contents constantly disappearing To reveal a blank canvas to be filled once more The artist turns out to be me, and me alone Leaving my post is an improbability As the gallery holding me hostage is my own mind Yet in truth, I find happiness in this prison cell Without sleep I find energy from passers by Who refuel my passion with their coins Thrown into my hat beside me Tokens of positivity that they cannot directly give The door is always open Even to those who find fault with the artist Who tease me in my chained feet And hurl their abuse with intent to delay completion Yet still, I welcome companionship of viewers Without noticing the deviants who scratch away at my painting My selflessness renders me unable to notice evils Blinding me with the future I paint before my eyes My piece is never mastered For I am distracted by evils constant approach Presenting me with gifts of seeds, that grow in my soils Only to blossom as weeds, and eat away at all goodness But my grounds are open, and my job demands time Rarely do I have the time to look upon works accomplished But I steal a moment as sun and moon change shifts Only to be met a view that gives no happiness as before My stubborn positivity keeps defences up Protecting myself from taunters and ghosts who take refuge in corners I am distracted by my own optimism, the joy of what I do But it hinders me, in ways I cannot defeat My ability to seek vengeance was never yielded nor encouraged So instinctively as always, I turn not to the voices behind me And paint upon the canvas once more The doors still open
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Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 4:33 PM UTC
Alice in Chains
An exit for expression An admittance with no fee A mind free from excluding An exhibition without end The centerpiece- an installation Ever moving within its frame Its contents constantly disappearing To reveal a blank canvas to be filled once more The artist turns out to be me, and me alone Leaving my post is an improbability As the gallery holding me hostage is my own mind Yet in truth, I find happiness in this prison cell Without sleep I find energy from passers by Who refuel my passion with their coins Thrown into my hat beside me Tokens of positivity that they cannot directly give The door is always open Even to those who find fault with the artist Who tease me in my chained feet And hurl their abuse with intent to delay completion Yet still, I welcome companionship of viewers Without noticing the deviants who scratch away at my painting My selflessness renders me unable to notice evils Blinding me with the future I paint before my eyes My piece is never mastered For I am distracted by evils constant approach Presenting me with gifts of seeds, that grow in my soils Only to blossom as weeds, and eat away at all goodness But my grounds are open, and my job demands time Rarely do I have the time to look upon works accomplished But I steal a moment as sun and moon change shifts Only to be met a view that gives no happiness as before My stubborn positivity keeps defences up Protecting myself from taunters and ghosts who take refuge in corners I am distracted by my own optimism, the joy of what I do But it hinders me, in ways I cannot defeat My ability to seek vengeance was never yielded nor encouraged So instinctively as always, I turn not to the voices behind me And paint upon the canvas once more The doors still open
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Just being together opens the avenue... surfing life to the fullest experiences are enriched put happiness into us heaven it becomes! Great love always a privilege rarely age gap hinders as love is free yes, it is ours to savor!
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Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 12:02 AM UTC
Lovebirds
Advocate of the nonexistant You are all bends encircling Circuts of truth verses lies is removed When diagram of entrails is eviscerated Attestation that hinders, lingers beyond Concealing, subsisting, not we Nothings are baseless, breathing is useless Repudiate this knowing at once Doctrines and concepts have derrived Theories are growing while eras moved on Delusions set in when axiom gone Delusions are not when one dies Attestation that hinders, lingers afar Concealing, subsisting, not I Everything's baseless, breathing is useless Repudiate this knowing at once Prostulate the higher is there We all crave desolate space Subside from afar a seperate reaps Subside from afar there is none
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Nov 3, 2010
Nov 3, 2010 at 12:51 PM UTC
Nihilism 2
* I have stopped looking at the clouds and start staring at cornered walls that surrounds me. The clear skies that I would dream, wondering the complexities of its heights… I often believed that the sky would make my dreams come true, but in reality, all it takes to journey your dream is creating a stepping stone. You can’t achieve anything without making any step. I always like to jump into conclusion, fear of failure. In this case, it hinders the optimism values we always have. Diving into your deepest thoughts is just like scuba diving without oxygen. We need to learn how to hold our breaths, to accept everything and process every obstacle in the depth of negativity. For far beyond its deepness, there is light, shiny as pearls. You’ll learn its wisdom, an insight that will guide you towards reaching any goal… Written - 09/16/2013 Updated – 04/21/2014 *
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May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 11:03 AM UTC
untitled
It's cool to just sit Here and deal with this **** But hey, its better Where the pudding is thick, Or so they tell me, Along with 'Don't fall for tricks,' They'll always get you If your mind is weak, Like the obliques In my side That've been hurting for weeks, They're so sore from The combination Of boredom And the conflagration Of all the Tinder inside my body That hinders my Lodi-Dodi Outlook On benders That have become Normality, Like you've become A malady, A mother-may-I Comedy That keeps me laughing, Keeps me guessing, Keeps me passing Up on Rafting Down that river, But didn't you know That ocean never comes? So I'll keep drifting And counting my ones, And try to blame The ones on the run Instead of the **** Doing the chasing And erasing my luck, While I deface my face And wait For this bronco To buck Me off Into the muck Of eternal loss. It already happened? You got it, boss.
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Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 12:43 AM UTC
--The Pony Expression--
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, insult salted the injury--- that was a bad day< maybe wounds are sold do you mean that insult can't salt injuries to a pathetic fault? warn the poor never the guilt as it wish the idiotic I put the limit stepped the humiliation right out silenced like a charity drought now lacked it is yet still manageable killed in the **** core when tangible warn foolish fingers an incoming the tremble syndrome now secrets are whispered blind devils shrink in hinders a car ride rains a billion on a thinker watch me tested as God demands lost in translation for what a paper does and I simply don't understand take the gesture I can't for a billion pays you see made me squirm more like a forsaken sun in 2018                                                                    ------ravenfeels
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Jun 19, 2021
Jun 19, 2021 at 3:54 PM UTC
A Pathetic Hand
My Facebook page is a cluster of Saturday nights drinking- And Gaza. The fusion of blood and alcohol Created a fierce dichotomy That shouldn’t exist; My bed is a crimson clover field, With big dreams Attached to every leaf, Hidden in pockets of brand new shirts That I bought Just to grab your attention. My mind is doing jumping jacks Over the thoughts Of rebellion And fighting for the dead youth As opposed to- Enjoying my own. My head grew muscles, As their feet Grew tired- Of running at night, When the dark hinders their sight Till they get confused between Rocks- And skulls; But they run, And dodge, And jump, And crack broken bones As long as they are still alive. In Gaza I die. Every day, Reading the reports , Calculating the number of deaths Over the number of minutes spent Surfing web pages Jumping from one link to the other Hoping that I would find Something to hang on to; In Gaza I die. When I see mothers Flustered and desperate, Trying to cheer up their children In a hopeless case; And nothing would cheer a child up Like a piece of cake, But they have nothing left- So they bake them a cake Out of their broken limbs, They gather the tears They’ve cried on white cloth To make them soup. They chip a piece of their heart off Every other night, Because that heart will hurt When they call their children And they seize to answer, Because that same heart will shatter Like rockets in a Palestinian sky When they prepare food for Five But there would be no one left to eat. In Gaza I die, I was once four years old; In Gaza I die, I married your mother when I was 16, I brought you and your sister Before I was 25 In Gaza I die, Yesterday he looked at me, In the shelter, I smiled But not the smile that shows that I’m infatuated But definitely interested! In Gaza I die, She is so into me But In Gaza I wish i could just Live.
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Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 9:38 PM UTC
Calligraphy of Death, Scripted on the Bones
My Facebook page is a cluster of Saturday nights drinking- And Gaza. The fusion of blood and alcohol Created a fierce dichotomy That shouldn’t exist; My bed is a crimson clover field, With big dreams Attached to every leaf, Hidden in pockets of brand new shirts That I bought Just to grab your attention. My mind is doing jumping jacks Over the thoughts Of rebellion And fighting for the dead youth As opposed to- Enjoying my own. My head grew muscles, As their feet Grew tired- Of running at night, When the dark hinders their sight Till they get confused between Rocks- And skulls; But they run, And dodge, And jump, And crack broken bones As long as they are still alive. In Gaza I die. Every day, Reading the reports , Calculating the number of deaths Over the number of minutes spent Surfing web pages Jumping from one link to the other Hoping that I would find Something to hang on to; In Gaza I die. When I see mothers Flustered and desperate, Trying to cheer up their children In a hopeless case; And nothing would cheer a child up Like a piece of cake, But they have nothing left- So they bake them a cake Out of their broken limbs, They gather the tears They’ve cried on white cloth To make them soup. They chip a piece of their heart off Every other night, Because that heart will hurt When they call their children And they seize to answer, Because that same heart will shatter Like rockets in a Palestinian sky When they prepare food for Five But there would be no one left to eat. In Gaza I die, I was once four years old; In Gaza I die, I married your mother when I was 16, I brought you and your sister Before I was 25 In Gaza I die, Yesterday he looked at me, In the shelter, I smiled But not the smile that shows that I’m infatuated But definitely interested! In Gaza I die, She is so into me But In Gaza I wish i could just Live.
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