"iand" poems - Hello Poetry

at its own axiomatic level we begin a dance a dance a dance and there are shades ― fly off from the other? a spindle a a fly ― difference we make ourselves a difference a complexity an intricate form that spills over and everywhere and is alive apart from itself as if this difference making were for itself, for our own ego rather than to pull the other the other’s difference pointlessly intricate motionful machines that well up beyond their own depths and but the content ― a meaningful making and on and on and drives ― turns on it urns iand urns un n uwuw uwuw uwuuwu wuuwuwuwuwuuwuw ― the measure of a drop is in ― everyone dances in their own light ― what if satire is all you see! ― everything ive ever wanted to say 12 yr old has already fallen out a tree ― everybody hold themselves so high and precious but their own being is only meagre pitiful one space arrow e there is a being that we strive for but only ourselves feel and only others know yet so many want the other to feel what they can only know come grieff and grief and grif ― i dont get why anyone cares we do what we do and it stupid why you wanna let the other in ? only reason u think they smart is they aint let u in so i says let em be . ― everyone all love precarity cant love themselves sothey strike out when the other they want to love them for themselves dont love them for themselves thats an impossibility ! ― FRAGILE PEOPLE PRETENDING THEY’RE NOT BaM BAM! whys all the positivity make all lie and die why do you care so much about yourself that you desire the other to see? you are meagre you are petty and that’s all you are. resentment is thinking otherwise. nobody cares about your drives!!!!!!!!!! and the more you think they should the more they wont!!!!!!!!!!!silly!!!!!!!!! the togetherness of not- let people sweep and slide then drift n loop! ― everoy ! neurotic big weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee ― then why are peopplr loenly? ― cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light ― its own singular yearning pulls back the body of marx and the whole black moon ― black moon! black moon! howls the end howls the night simpering spat spat spat spatchooey! cross yarn and tip a spews the thunder and the back back back of no where curses like a shut down whine ― are you perfectly everywhere not this is the only series of questions in philosophy senpai desu desu bakkkooou!!

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Aug 4, 2019

Aug 4, 2019 at 10:54 PM UTC

mitakiharashi

03-08-2019 | 3:40AM-5:04AM

at its own axiomatic level we begin a dance a dance a dance and there are shades ― fly off from the other? a spindle a a fly ― difference we make ourselves a difference a complexity an intricate form that spills over and everywhere and is alive apart from itself as if this difference making were for itself, for our own ego rather than to pull the other the other’s difference pointlessly intricate motionful machines that well up beyond their own depths and but the content ― a meaningful making and on and on and drives ― turns on it urns iand urns un n uwuw uwuw uwuuwu wuuwuwuwuwuuwuw ― the measure of a drop is in ― everyone dances in their own light ― what if satire is all you see! ― everything ive ever wanted to say 12 yr old has already fallen out a tree ― everybody hold themselves so high and precious but their own being is only meagre pitiful one space arrow e there is a being that we strive for but only ourselves feel and only others know yet so many want the other to feel what they can only know come grieff and grief and grif ― i dont get why anyone cares we do what we do and it stupid why you wanna let the other in ? only reason u think they smart is they aint let u in so i says let em be . ― everyone all love precarity cant love themselves sothey strike out when the other they want to love them for themselves dont love them for themselves thats an impossibility ! ― FRAGILE PEOPLE PRETENDING THEY’RE NOT BaM BAM! whys all the positivity make all lie and die why do you care so much about yourself that you desire the other to see? you are meagre you are petty and that’s all you are. resentment is thinking otherwise. nobody cares about your drives!!!!!!!!!! and the more you think they should the more they wont!!!!!!!!!!!silly!!!!!!!!! the togetherness of not- let people sweep and slide then drift n loop! ― everoy ! neurotic big weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee ― then why are peopplr loenly? ― cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light cherished being in a bridge of light ― its own singular yearning pulls back the body of marx and the whole black moon ― black moon! black moon! howls the end howls the night simpering spat spat spat spatchooey! cross yarn and tip a spews the thunder and the back back back of no where curses like a shut down whine ― are you perfectly everywhere not this is the only series of questions in philosophy senpai desu desu bakkkooou!!

136

I'm so tiredI can't sleepSlipping deepInto that holeMy socks have holesIn all the heelsIt really feelsLike I'm floatingOn a boatOn the seaSail with meInto the sunWon't it be fun?Just you and IAnd the big blue skyClouds scudding byAcross the blueJust me and youUntil we're throughWith being usDon't make a fussIt won't be longUntil we're goneAnd this one songIs all that's leftOf you and IAnd that big blue sky

0

Jan 30, 2010

Jan 30, 2010 at 10:50 PM UTC

vivien-rivera

At An Impasse

I'm so tiredI can't sleepSlipping deepInto that holeMy socks have holesIn all the heelsIt really feelsLike I'm floatingOn a boatOn the seaSail with meInto the sunWon't it be fun?Just you and IAnd the big blue skyClouds scudding byAcross the blueJust me and youUntil we're throughWith being usDon't make a fussIt won't be longUntil we're goneAnd this one songIs all that's leftOf you and IAnd that big blue sky

1

.It was mid-winter, 1927. Cold isn't even one of the wordsI would have used to describethat winter.It was more bone chillingthan I really care to remember. We were both young,Davie and I. November,before momma and daddydied was the last time we had heard from the man at the bank.Foreclosure was the wordthat formed icicles in my heart. We were downto our last can of beans.We were frightened, to say the least. We had no way to heat them,the wood was all burned.I swept away the old ashin hopes there would besome kindling there.There was not. Then I got an idea.When granddad was a boy,he collected chunks of coalthat fell from the trainsrunning from the mountain minesto the cities far away. The unused stall in the barnhad six large burlap bags full.I told Davie to stay put.The snow was so deepthat it took me over an hour to reach the barn.I filled up an old Diamond's potatoes sack plumb to the top.I retraced my stepsback through the snow,almost tasting the warm beanssliding down my throat. Davie's eyes danced upon my return, his tears dried the instant I opened the half frozen door. I quickly assembled a small pyramid of coalin the stove and set themablaze. They glowed like molten steel,as we warmed our hands. Iwarmed our last can of beansand exchanged worried glanceswith Davie.I told Davie to say the prayer,then we ate. The beans were good. Oh,Lord were they good!We chewed each one as if theywere made of gold.I woke with a yawn the next morningand the sun was shining. Davie had risenearlier than Iand he had even done his choreswithout being asked. I told him that I was proud of himand patted him on the backlike daddy used to. Suddenly Davie looked at me funny andhe handed me backthat same Diamond's Potatoes sackI had just emptied the coal from last night. He told me he was cleaning the ashfrom the stove and he found this pileof glass stones.I looked closer...

0

Jan 27, 2010

Jan 27, 2010 at 10:59 AM UTC

redbarchettadrive

~The Story You Won't Soon Forget ♥♥

.It was mid-winter, 1927. Cold isn't even one of the wordsI would have used to describethat winter.It was more bone chillingthan I really care to remember. We were both young,Davie and I. November,before momma and daddydied was the last time we had heard from the man at the bank.Foreclosure was the wordthat formed icicles in my heart. We were downto our last can of beans.We were frightened, to say the least. We had no way to heat them,the wood was all burned.I swept away the old ashin hopes there would besome kindling there.There was not. Then I got an idea.When granddad was a boy,he collected chunks of coalthat fell from the trainsrunning from the mountain minesto the cities far away. The unused stall in the barnhad six large burlap bags full.I told Davie to stay put.The snow was so deepthat it took me over an hour to reach the barn.I filled up an old Diamond's potatoes sack plumb to the top.I retraced my stepsback through the snow,almost tasting the warm beanssliding down my throat. Davie's eyes danced upon my return, his tears dried the instant I opened the half frozen door. I quickly assembled a small pyramid of coalin the stove and set themablaze. They glowed like molten steel,as we warmed our hands. Iwarmed our last can of beansand exchanged worried glanceswith Davie.I told Davie to say the prayer,then we ate. The beans were good. Oh,Lord were they good!We chewed each one as if theywere made of gold.I woke with a yawn the next morningand the sun was shining. Davie had risenearlier than Iand he had even done his choreswithout being asked. I told him that I was proud of himand patted him on the backlike daddy used to. Suddenly Davie looked at me funny andhe handed me backthat same Diamond's Potatoes sackI had just emptied the coal from last night. He told me he was cleaning the ashfrom the stove and he found this pileof glass stones.I looked closer...

1