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"impairing" poems
Like a grain trapped under the eyelid Impairing the vision, in heart and mind Flush it out with rivers, woeful and turbid This grain still there; rendering us blind Tiny and inconspicuous; No one sees the grains Everyone's 'gifted' with their own to nurse Doubling over we see each others' pains Hidden and embedded within the poetry laden verse
0
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 2:35 AM UTC
Grain of Sand
I had to disassemble it Our world Take it apart Bit by bit Word by word Those words Letters Full of meaning Could no longer exist Anywhere My friend, my lover And my refuge Suddenly turned Traitor Turned foul Deceptive Dangerous My friend, my lover My language So I began the demolition Of clandestine concepts Tearing apart nouns And adversary adjectives violently, I separated verbs And adverbs Thus impairing indecent interjections Until our grammar Finally collapsed Now there is only silence Safety in signs like Minuscule monuments All bereft of meaning And I am in mourning For I have no words To throw into the void Only memories Of distant dialogues Dreams
0
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 12:06 PM UTC
Taking Apart Language
Again life cycles to a clutter, ideas thought through don't anymore seem as though, even when expressed aloud and not within. Maybe they're right, my ignorance is only withholding wonders I struggle to actually see. Hypocritically, I find importance in self enrichment and observing from afar. and yet even from a distance you feel so close. Is this an evolution or is it just another mutation. Obscure out of any cultural norm, I resonate impairing those who hear my words. This constant metamorphosis has left me staring in the mirror for hours, searching for the presence of my subjected form. Yet, while I peer into the interworkings of my reflection to observe what I actually see... With all truth, it holds a boy, an awkwardly timid boy. Insecurely gazing back into the pupils of his reality. He's bellowing inside his submerged mind. Subconsciously Blurting: "Do not turn back, their are cyclones that await. And all that is required to overcome this task is to go forth without pondering times long gone... So here I am, engaulphed in tidal winds. I must break loose; grow, starting from below.
0
Jul 18, 2011
Jul 18, 2011 at 10:55 PM UTC
Reflections of a Cyclone.
Fred occupies his chair, innocently enough. Occupying his time by Solving the crossword puzzle, racking his brain for the answers. So all of the letters fit together. So every space is filled. The beauty of solved Enigmas. Ten across. Opposite of faithfulness. The fire consumes the logs. Contained Chaos. The room is illuminated in frantic light Emanating from the fireplace. Flames prevented from yielding to their Natural Yearning to Disseminate to whatever matter Will accept them. Fred sits on his chair, Innocently enough, But if you look in those Eyes of his, you will witness the Beauty of Pain, la Douleur exquise d'amour. Loving Someone he will, invariably, love and forgive. A woman Whose love has changed patterns. Changed Directions. Altered. There is a string That hitches his heart to that of his infidel. His wife. He feels foreign blood impairing Them. He knows her. Without her telling Him anything, he knows the Lies in those Eyes of her. Confirming his knowledge. Ten across. Infidelity. Means unfaithful. She walked in moments ago, sat on the Usual chair in front of him. Fred’s Heart aches now with the immensity of the Heartache within his wife. He feels her heart has been broken By the same man who usurped her from Him every Thursday. She would return [not quite yet] Home on those days, Disjointed, Distracted. He Knew this was what Falling in Love looked like. But today, his wife's Heart feels different. Her Lover is Absent from their blood. Fred no Longer is Obligated to pump the blood of his Wife’s flame throughout his own body. and yet, he feels sorry for her. feels her suffering. feels her pain more than his own. He watches her face, the Sorrow in Her eyes drinks the flames of the Fire. Fred can tell she wishes she were In the flames. Better yet, the Blaze itself, free from her despondency, The places her mind must be traveling to. Fred is fully aware that she is contemplating Unloading her triste to him. Not for His own Benefit, to be Honest with him. Only to assuage her Guilt, to empty her conscience of Bad Blood. She is a sinner. She will sin Again. No doubt about that. But. His Infidel. He cannot stand to see her... His love...his life... If someone is spread out before you Seeking to surrender to Death, You do not Simply let them die. Especially if they share half your blood. Especially if your Happiness is Contingent upon their survival. Fred’s wife has a ghostly look on her Face and he cannot help but save her from Her caustic thoughts, from the Consuming pain in her very Core. and so he guides her back to him. just her wide eyes. he knows all. And He forgives her.
0
Dec 10, 2012
Dec 10, 2012 at 12:50 AM UTC
Bad Religion
Fred occupies his chair, innocently enough. Occupying his time by Solving the crossword puzzle, racking his brain for the answers. So all of the letters fit together. So every space is filled. The beauty of solved Enigmas. Ten across. Opposite of faithfulness. The fire consumes the logs. Contained Chaos. The room is illuminated in frantic light Emanating from the fireplace. Flames prevented from yielding to their Natural Yearning to Disseminate to whatever matter Will accept them. Fred sits on his chair, Innocently enough, But if you look in those Eyes of his, you will witness the Beauty of Pain, la Douleur exquise d'amour. Loving Someone he will, invariably, love and forgive. A woman Whose love has changed patterns. Changed Directions. Altered. There is a string That hitches his heart to that of his infidel. His wife. He feels foreign blood impairing Them. He knows her. Without her telling Him anything, he knows the Lies in those Eyes of her. Confirming his knowledge. Ten across. Infidelity. Means unfaithful. She walked in moments ago, sat on the Usual chair in front of him. Fred’s Heart aches now with the immensity of the Heartache within his wife. He feels her heart has been broken By the same man who usurped her from Him every Thursday. She would return [not quite yet] Home on those days, Disjointed, Distracted. He Knew this was what Falling in Love looked like. But today, his wife's Heart feels different. Her Lover is Absent from their blood. Fred no Longer is Obligated to pump the blood of his Wife’s flame throughout his own body. and yet, he feels sorry for her. feels her suffering. feels her pain more than his own. He watches her face, the Sorrow in Her eyes drinks the flames of the Fire. Fred can tell she wishes she were In the flames. Better yet, the Blaze itself, free from her despondency, The places her mind must be traveling to. Fred is fully aware that she is contemplating Unloading her triste to him. Not for His own Benefit, to be Honest with him. Only to assuage her Guilt, to empty her conscience of Bad Blood. She is a sinner. She will sin Again. No doubt about that. But. His Infidel. He cannot stand to see her... His love...his life... If someone is spread out before you Seeking to surrender to Death, You do not Simply let them die. Especially if they share half your blood. Especially if your Happiness is Contingent upon their survival. Fred’s wife has a ghostly look on her Face and he cannot help but save her from Her caustic thoughts, from the Consuming pain in her very Core. and so he guides her back to him. just her wide eyes. he knows all. And He forgives her.
Continue reading...
79
O LOVE! O LOVE! WHY ARE YOU EVER DEVOID OF LOGIC? Alexander K Opicho (Eldoret, Kenya; [email protected]) Mankind in its pathetic folly entice you in a dint of stupor Knowing not your true colour and texture Endeavoring to achieve glory in your mastery With the so limited human capacity In grey faith that you are a cradle of bliss But O love! Why are you ever crooked? Young men and women in strength of their sinews Toil day and night in ******* of humanity Praying and whining incantations with the hope for optimal love Ornamenting their bodies with diamond and bronze Fibre and silk ornamented to helm of providence In the foolish quest for love equillibria But in full stretch of your vice, you impish love You catapult all away to the shifted goal posts O love! O love! Why are you ever ruthless? You hate the learned but you favour the strong You hate professors but you favour the soldiers You hate the rich but you favour the agile You hate the lawyers but you favour the footballers You hate the pastors but you favour the ruffian You hate the whites but you favour the Negroes You hate the groomed but you love the ragamuffin You hate the chaste but you favour the mistress O love! O love! Why are you ever illogical? Love, I revere you for wickedness and irrationality In all of your history you scored sum *** laude In the duo as blend of your domain, Look; You never dwell in a genuine companionship You like where the couth will interject; Amidst fornication between married and single ones Amidst adultery in the triangle of foul compassion Amidst miscegenation between black and white Amidst infatuation between the whole and the lame Amidst conjugal appetite between the old and the young Amidst concupiscence between house master and houshelp Amidst immorality of married master over the wallowing servant Amidst libidos between literate teacher unto the peasant pupil Amidst disordered passion among the sly lesbians Amidst impious ********** among the suave gays O love! O love! You are the most wicked force! Love I am told; your colour is red You may be red or you may not be red But all in all, you deserve poetical veneration For your herculean ability to bend the most wise; In your force you made sagacious Shakespeare to bend In your force you made Princes Diana to bend and bend Bending downwardly stooping for Afawoyed the moor, In your stupefying dint you made Napoleon de Bonaparte To bend and bend downwardly stooping for Josephine Josephine a famed she-Casanova in the gone Paris Among the then humanity and the then animality, In your impairing machinery you set sons on their fathers In the roman empire of Antony and Ceaser In the scramble for Cleopatra, the Egyptian queen Beauty of her aquiline nose heavily hovered perhaps In the eyes of the Roman beholders The father and the son only to sent the empire To the love forlorn smithereens!
0
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 5:08 AM UTC
O love ! O love ! why are you ever devoid of logic ?
O LOVE! O LOVE! WHY ARE YOU EVER DEVOID OF LOGIC? Alexander K Opicho (Eldoret, Kenya; [email protected]) Mankind in its pathetic folly entice you in a dint of stupor Knowing not your true colour and texture Endeavoring to achieve glory in your mastery With the so limited human capacity In grey faith that you are a cradle of bliss But O love! Why are you ever crooked? Young men and women in strength of their sinews Toil day and night in ******* of humanity Praying and whining incantations with the hope for optimal love Ornamenting their bodies with diamond and bronze Fibre and silk ornamented to helm of providence In the foolish quest for love equillibria But in full stretch of your vice, you impish love You catapult all away to the shifted goal posts O love! O love! Why are you ever ruthless? You hate the learned but you favour the strong You hate professors but you favour the soldiers You hate the rich but you favour the agile You hate the lawyers but you favour the footballers You hate the pastors but you favour the ruffian You hate the whites but you favour the Negroes You hate the groomed but you love the ragamuffin You hate the chaste but you favour the mistress O love! O love! Why are you ever illogical? Love, I revere you for wickedness and irrationality In all of your history you scored sum *** laude In the duo as blend of your domain, Look; You never dwell in a genuine companionship You like where the couth will interject; Amidst fornication between married and single ones Amidst adultery in the triangle of foul compassion Amidst miscegenation between black and white Amidst infatuation between the whole and the lame Amidst conjugal appetite between the old and the young Amidst concupiscence between house master and houshelp Amidst immorality of married master over the wallowing servant Amidst libidos between literate teacher unto the peasant pupil Amidst disordered passion among the sly lesbians Amidst impious ********** among the suave gays O love! O love! You are the most wicked force! Love I am told; your colour is red You may be red or you may not be red But all in all, you deserve poetical veneration For your herculean ability to bend the most wise; In your force you made sagacious Shakespeare to bend In your force you made Princes Diana to bend and bend Bending downwardly stooping for Afawoyed the moor, In your stupefying dint you made Napoleon de Bonaparte To bend and bend downwardly stooping for Josephine Josephine a famed she-Casanova in the gone Paris Among the then humanity and the then animality, In your impairing machinery you set sons on their fathers In the roman empire of Antony and Ceaser In the scramble for Cleopatra, the Egyptian queen Beauty of her aquiline nose heavily hovered perhaps In the eyes of the Roman beholders The father and the son only to sent the empire To the love forlorn smithereens!
Continue reading...
61
it’s 12 degrees outside excluding the breeze, I hide behind the rising smoke of the cigarette just lit, my fingers are falling off, nails ripping to the marrow a ****** stutter impairing speech, a seizured grab to the fleeced pocket leaves only the other hand to freeze, such a sacrifice to something old-me said I didn’t need, I kick around snow as my leather boots wear a coat of white as I shiver and inspire, throwing a black coat over my lungs “hey do you have a lighter?” “yeah” the ash sails down and kisses the filter and a flick collides the ember to exhale it’s final breath to the frozen floor, I step inside and suddenly, I’m cold again. MJB
0
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 2:33 AM UTC
Fumus (Discontent) Pt.2°
*When he looked,he saw with an eagle's eye To tell dirt from clean, truth from the lie When he knew, he wanted every detail Of information in wholesale, not retail When he loved, he did it with a passion For whom he fell was special, not just any person Whom he treasured,he did like the gold And when he promised, he promised a world His embrace was a magical thing of wonder Which made hearts beat as loud as thunder In his absence, his mistress' heart grew fonder And she was the only thing he loved as he did Uganda When he kissed, he stole her pain and worries And from the first kiss realized he'd be the one she marries So much so that in the night like fountains in the stream He was the constant variation in her every dream   When he spoke, he whispered probably in fear Of the world or probably because he was always close to her ear Yet when he laughed, he gave romance meaning Besides a strong shoulder worthy of trusting and leaning He was a thing every lady in the universe wanted A thought that saved her from being haunted By the monster of a lifetime of impairing loneliness A gorgeous illusion which gave her some happiness*
0
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 9:00 PM UTC
COMFORTING
We live in a house, simple and nice With a garden lined with crotons in rows Not so neatly trimmed or pruned as before And a lawn not always well manicured But abounding in plants with blooms of varied hue From shady corners, orchids peep They bring forth flowers in bunches and mass Only on certain seasons, not the year round. Then a visual treat to the eyes, indeed! Trees big and small border our land Mango trees and jack fruit trees Coconut palms and guava trees Twining creepers with globular passion fruits Bushy plants of sweet and sour berries Rose apples, papayas and Chinese limes An epitome of country abundance! In front of the house was once a stretch of fields Lush and fresh with paddy plants in June And in autumn, bent with arching sheaves of corn Green parakeets used to come from far To eat the grains ready to be reaped Having their fill they would fly westward in flocks Such scenes were a source of instant delight But sad enough, those fields were gradually filled In place of paddy and other seasonal crops Industrial units, big and small have emerged By degrees, the quiet and coolness of the place That once soothed our frayed nerves are gone Now an exodus of men have landed here Laborers who have come from Northern states To eke out a living in a better clime Speaking languages, Bengali, Hindi and Tamil Leaving the area noisy with incessant chatter Along the road that runs parallel to our house Now speeds past, motors in unbroken row Honking horns and raising a screen of smoky dust Spoiling the ambiance of our verdant setting And badly impairing the neat surroundings But with every change of scene and setting We, like nomads cannot change our stay or dwelling Well acclimatized to all noise and commotion We now stick to our home, our humble haven And strive to create within an inner landscape Not polluted by the ravages of time or clime Home is the sanctuary where we roost and rest A sweet dwelling, more than all mansions blest And it should be an abode of love where hearts embrace Every turn of life, grim or merry with no fuss but with grace How sweet it is to dwell beneath this roof Our wedded life’s enduring love’s living proof!
0
Jul 29, 2017
Jul 29, 2017 at 9:35 AM UTC
My Home
We live in a house, simple and nice With a garden lined with crotons in rows Not so neatly trimmed or pruned as before And a lawn not always well manicured But abounding in plants with blooms of varied hue From shady corners, orchids peep They bring forth flowers in bunches and mass Only on certain seasons, not the year round. Then a visual treat to the eyes, indeed! Trees big and small border our land Mango trees and jack fruit trees Coconut palms and guava trees Twining creepers with globular passion fruits Bushy plants of sweet and sour berries Rose apples, papayas and Chinese limes An epitome of country abundance! In front of the house was once a stretch of fields Lush and fresh with paddy plants in June And in autumn, bent with arching sheaves of corn Green parakeets used to come from far To eat the grains ready to be reaped Having their fill they would fly westward in flocks Such scenes were a source of instant delight But sad enough, those fields were gradually filled In place of paddy and other seasonal crops Industrial units, big and small have emerged By degrees, the quiet and coolness of the place That once soothed our frayed nerves are gone Now an exodus of men have landed here Laborers who have come from Northern states To eke out a living in a better clime Speaking languages, Bengali, Hindi and Tamil Leaving the area noisy with incessant chatter Along the road that runs parallel to our house Now speeds past, motors in unbroken row Honking horns and raising a screen of smoky dust Spoiling the ambiance of our verdant setting And badly impairing the neat surroundings But with every change of scene and setting We, like nomads cannot change our stay or dwelling Well acclimatized to all noise and commotion We now stick to our home, our humble haven And strive to create within an inner landscape Not polluted by the ravages of time or clime Home is the sanctuary where we roost and rest A sweet dwelling, more than all mansions blest And it should be an abode of love where hearts embrace Every turn of life, grim or merry with no fuss but with grace How sweet it is to dwell beneath this roof Our wedded life’s enduring love’s living proof!
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50
I won't take back the path I took And I can't change the ground it shook To face the earthquake of tough decisions And the natural disaster of life revisions. Nothing takes the earth apart like looking to the past To remember the different kinds of love that wouldn't last. I'd tell you ours was different, but the rubble begs to differ, Each night I rest in the freezing makes my bones grow stiffer. We're a dying race. God is showing us our place. We aren't all we think we are, We won't survive without a scar, But maybe we can climb out of this abyss, If as a species we remember this: We respect the rain, as she falls by design, But neglect the lightning and pretend extinction's fine. We stand in awe as snow falls asleep on the ground, Everything's peaceful until we're frozen like the snow all around. Desensitized to tragedy, Immune to life and gravity, Death becomes the living And apathy keeps giving. Will we step up, get up, and prove the flesh is wrong, Or lay down and stay down, to admit that we're not strong? How could we let hope die in vain, And, without a fight, return to the dust where we belong? Life seems well composed, happy and satisfied, Until we face the wind that blows, and scramble so much to strategize Just to protect the house we've built, That stands so proud until the lilies wilt And prove that all along, there was nothing we could do To keep the hurricane from killing the righteous few. Myself not included, there are honest men, Though we wonder where all our leadership has been. Now's the time to step up and do what's right, Our lives may flood, but we won't drown without a fight. We respect the rain, as she falls by design, But neglect the lightning and pretend extinction's fine. We stand in awe as snow falls asleep on the ground, Everything's peaceful until we're frozen like the snow all around. Desensitized to tragedy, Immune to life and gravity, Death becomes the living And apathy keeps giving. Will we step up, get up, and prove the flesh is wrong, Or lay down and stay down, to admit that we're not strong? How could we let hope die in vain, And, without a fight, return to the dust where we belong? We fight pain and constant pressure until the top explodes, But we won't give up until we've exhausted all the roads, Looking for a way out, preferably the best, But if that fails, we'll make do with any of the rest. It's hard to see with the ash impairing our sight, But even in darkness, through fire, we strive for what is right. The only way to keep the magma from burning through the earth, Is to show the nature around us what righteousness is worth. We respect the rain, as she falls by design, But neglect the lightning and pretend extinction's fine. We stand in awe as snow falls asleep on the ground, Everything's peaceful until we're frozen like the snow all around. Desensitized to tragedy, Immune to life and gravity, Death becomes the living And apathy keeps giving. Will we step up, get up, and prove the flesh is wrong, Or lay down and stay down, to admit that we're not strong? How could we let hope die in vain, And, without a fight, return to the dust where we belong? Maybe nature is the trees and all the flowers Or maybe it's the sum or lack there of of human powers. You decide what you defend and what you think is true, Because it's passion and conviction that truly define you. We respect the rain, as she falls by design, But neglect the lightning and pretend extinction's fine. Death becomes the living And apathy keeps giving. Will we step up, get up, and prove the flesh is wrong, Lay down and stay down, to admit that we're not strong? Or will we, so soon, return to the dust where we belong? --Emily Rutledge
0
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 2:45 AM UTC
Soul Searching at the End of the Earth
I won't take back the path I took And I can't change the ground it shook To face the earthquake of tough decisions And the natural disaster of life revisions. Nothing takes the earth apart like looking to the past To remember the different kinds of love that wouldn't last. I'd tell you ours was different, but the rubble begs to differ, Each night I rest in the freezing makes my bones grow stiffer. We're a dying race. God is showing us our place. We aren't all we think we are, We won't survive without a scar, But maybe we can climb out of this abyss, If as a species we remember this: We respect the rain, as she falls by design, But neglect the lightning and pretend extinction's fine. We stand in awe as snow falls asleep on the ground, Everything's peaceful until we're frozen like the snow all around. Desensitized to tragedy, Immune to life and gravity, Death becomes the living And apathy keeps giving. Will we step up, get up, and prove the flesh is wrong, Or lay down and stay down, to admit that we're not strong? How could we let hope die in vain, And, without a fight, return to the dust where we belong? Life seems well composed, happy and satisfied, Until we face the wind that blows, and scramble so much to strategize Just to protect the house we've built, That stands so proud until the lilies wilt And prove that all along, there was nothing we could do To keep the hurricane from killing the righteous few. Myself not included, there are honest men, Though we wonder where all our leadership has been. Now's the time to step up and do what's right, Our lives may flood, but we won't drown without a fight. We respect the rain, as she falls by design, But neglect the lightning and pretend extinction's fine. We stand in awe as snow falls asleep on the ground, Everything's peaceful until we're frozen like the snow all around. Desensitized to tragedy, Immune to life and gravity, Death becomes the living And apathy keeps giving. Will we step up, get up, and prove the flesh is wrong, Or lay down and stay down, to admit that we're not strong? How could we let hope die in vain, And, without a fight, return to the dust where we belong? We fight pain and constant pressure until the top explodes, But we won't give up until we've exhausted all the roads, Looking for a way out, preferably the best, But if that fails, we'll make do with any of the rest. It's hard to see with the ash impairing our sight, But even in darkness, through fire, we strive for what is right. The only way to keep the magma from burning through the earth, Is to show the nature around us what righteousness is worth. We respect the rain, as she falls by design, But neglect the lightning and pretend extinction's fine. We stand in awe as snow falls asleep on the ground, Everything's peaceful until we're frozen like the snow all around. Desensitized to tragedy, Immune to life and gravity, Death becomes the living And apathy keeps giving. Will we step up, get up, and prove the flesh is wrong, Or lay down and stay down, to admit that we're not strong? How could we let hope die in vain, And, without a fight, return to the dust where we belong? Maybe nature is the trees and all the flowers Or maybe it's the sum or lack there of of human powers. You decide what you defend and what you think is true, Because it's passion and conviction that truly define you. We respect the rain, as she falls by design, But neglect the lightning and pretend extinction's fine. Death becomes the living And apathy keeps giving. Will we step up, get up, and prove the flesh is wrong, Lay down and stay down, to admit that we're not strong? Or will we, so soon, return to the dust where we belong? --Emily Rutledge
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80
With strangest precision I made the incision Inherent decision Impairing my vision My search was defined The day I went blind It somehow aligned For me not to find Fictitious revision Brought will to submission A juxtaposition Arranged inquisition So speak from your mind And tick with the time Awaiting reply You tarry, you die
0
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 7:56 PM UTC
Because you're manic
Eyes I'm sorry for forcing you to endure such demanding labor For flooding your irrigation gates with salty tides of woeful cries For impairing your vision as loneliness takes human form and riverwalks across your irises Please, forgive me Mind I'm sorry for causing you to overthink constantly For saturating your fields of knowledge with dangerous negative thoughts For bullying you with these words and questioning your sanity Please, forgive me Heart I'm sorry for bruising and blackening your core For halting the flow of electric passion between your chambers and preventing your ability to attach with the strings of another For fueling your disappointment over and over again, yet you still exhaustingly pump and beat for me Please, forgive me Soul I'm sorry for draining the waters from your wells of hope For leaving you hollow, I can hear your echoes of misery For dehydrating you of joy and penetrating your walls with shards of dejection, I can feel you slowly dying inside of me Please, forgive me You You've created a villain of despair Who forges anger and depression upon himself You've given me the tools to destroy my body from the inside out Yet, my body is still running on the reserves of our recycled love So just come to me, and tell me you're sorry Please, I want to forgive you
0
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 7:11 PM UTC
Forgiveness
There she was, staggering down the evenly-paved road-- passers-by wrote her off as drunk, but really the tears were impairing her vision-- clad in Ugg moccasins that barely covered her heels anymore, that embarrassing pair of heart-covered pajama pants from middle school, and the ever-too-big softball sweatshirt. Tears cascaded down her face in a waterfall, while her chestnut-colored hair shrouded this natural phenomenon as if it were sacred. Her shadow stretched far taller than the girl's actual height, adding those always-sought-after inches to her petite frame. Ironically, her thoughts overshadowed her own shadow; those pesky, ferocious demons causing the salty tears of frustration to stubbornly leak from her green eyes. A young girl shouldn't be tortured by her own thoughts, the worries of her elders, carelessly blown in her face like secondhand smoke. She needed to get away, escape the smoke-worries that weigh her down in her own home-- but it was too late. The damage is already done...
0
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 10:56 PM UTC
Small Town Girl
I did not know the men from far. each holding a clear mask as I was driven down the now common road. I knew the habits of souls like these. impairing the land. blameless in its lushness, these boys, I learn now, were hired to consume. properly; with all items & inhabitance spawned in desolation, there are no mistakes made. there could never be flared tempers, or indignant stares, whispers of mutiny or treason. & a lack of profits are concepts hoarded by other lands. their tasks became habits & tolerance replaces my strength as an infection settled. one stretching my jaw, piercing my tongue & erecting fences inside my skull. I learned to love the sloth & loathe my confidence. quickly beauty sets & confusion fades. the road held nothing as did the scars, laid down by special souls ages or seconds ago.
0
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 10:37 AM UTC
32 (missing)
They say love is blindness No, I don't want to see I'll dive head first into the unbeknownst depths The cataracts impairing me They say love is patient I've never been good at biding time I am ever restless I'd wait eons for a love of this kind They say love last forever It's hard to think of anything That can somehow compare To that treasure. White, silver, platinum, gold These all fade away They get chipped, lost, They become worn and old I fall in love with you differently Everyday, for the same old things It's so much more to me you see Than any mortal, metal ring Still, it's nice to think... That miracales can happen So I can hear my angel sing
0
Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 11:42 PM UTC
I'm Blind, Deaf, Dumb & in Love
Darkness creeps up in the crimson Dyed room in shades of blue black I still hear his sultry voice Echoing in the back of my mind "Well, No" was deafening And my heart sunk at the sound Of those two simple words Perhaps the torrential rain Will erode the predicaments that have Accumulated in the Depths of my internal A flash of lightning lightens The room and the pungent odor Of history lingers like stale potatoes A happy, but blurry past Buried under a thick foliage of Tears re-surfaces and my heart Sinks even more deeper My night full of confusion, The whirlwind of thoughts Impairing my mind, Words that escaped his lips Are the eye of Tropical Cyclones Cascading down on me. An indecent dream flares out like Petals of wild flower, And eyes once starry Now bleed black ink tears. Fear remains, as it always does When lightning bolts blend in With the wails of a broken heart And my walls are crumbling down
0
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 7:44 PM UTC
"Well, No"
How do you react But with utter sadness And sorrow when You're given a time frame? When there's a time stamp On your life as you know it, How do you act around Your family and friends? Do you spend the six weeks That you've got left, Moping and sulking, Or making the most of every moment? It's hard to focus on success When you know the ultimate reality That you're being faced with, And quite frankly, it ***** Your life went from whatever Normal may be for you, To living every moment On a severely impairing time crunch. Six weeks, seven at best, But regardless, it's not enough time. You need time to cope, Time to heal mentally. You need time, But that's the one thing you don't have.
0
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 9:54 AM UTC
Time Crunch
Shouldn't be liking you I'm afraid of your smile, I'm afraid of that look in your eye when you speak to me, I'm even afraid of that look on your face when you walk past me and pretend as if I'm not there, I'm afraid to say it out loud that I'm starting to like you, because I shouldn't... Your hand shakes turned to hugs and as I held your body close to mine breathing in that beautiful intoxicating aroma impairing my logic, daring my lips to press against yours When you kissed me when you shouldn't have, the way your heart raced, the way your tongue tastes, mischief and mayhem but it was all we wanted at the time and the outside world had no meaning for us When you invited me over to visit and the minutes grew to hours and as the hours past the midnight stroke tolling in a new day the seduction deepened You might as well be named forbidden fruit, and as I gaze at you upon that limb my appetite for desire continues to grow When all the ethical foundation and moralities cry out warning me that this wrong I still can't help wanting you You who keeps me up at night with littles fantasies dancing in my head, got me tossing in my bed trying to rush the night into sun rise just for my eyes to be blessed by the sight of you As I let myself wallow in the thrill of your presence I can't help but think that she's at home waiting for me She ...who has my heart my loyalty my love But you have my curiosity my attention and you excite my sensual interests I am ashamed that this kind of happiness is from such an unlikely source and now that I like you what am i to do, I know I shouldn't but I only want you to like me as much as I like you, could I be asking for too much...
0
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 6:49 PM UTC
Lol
Shouldn't be liking you I'm afraid of your smile, I'm afraid of that look in your eye when you speak to me, I'm even afraid of that look on your face when you walk past me and pretend as if I'm not there, I'm afraid to say it out loud that I'm starting to like you, because I shouldn't... Your hand shakes turned to hugs and as I held your body close to mine breathing in that beautiful intoxicating aroma impairing my logic, daring my lips to press against yours When you kissed me when you shouldn't have, the way your heart raced, the way your tongue tastes, mischief and mayhem but it was all we wanted at the time and the outside world had no meaning for us When you invited me over to visit and the minutes grew to hours and as the hours past the midnight stroke tolling in a new day the seduction deepened You might as well be named forbidden fruit, and as I gaze at you upon that limb my appetite for desire continues to grow When all the ethical foundation and moralities cry out warning me that this wrong I still can't help wanting you You who keeps me up at night with littles fantasies dancing in my head, got me tossing in my bed trying to rush the night into sun rise just for my eyes to be blessed by the sight of you As I let myself wallow in the thrill of your presence I can't help but think that she's at home waiting for me She ...who has my heart my loyalty my love But you have my curiosity my attention and you excite my sensual interests I am ashamed that this kind of happiness is from such an unlikely source and now that I like you what am i to do, I know I shouldn't but I only want you to like me as much as I like you, could I be asking for too much...
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12
Liar, Liar One I desire Cast me in brimstone Light me with fire Second chances are Self-impairing with a lance Limbs and bones, dead hand of the past. I am remnants.
0
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 9:25 PM UTC
Ember
I just don't subscribe to your logic Unless it makes sense to me, too I'm not going to do what you say Unless you provide a valid reason It's not that I want to disobey It's that I was never given a reason to obey I have no incentive to listen to you Nothing to make me think you're right I'm not a fan of wasting my time Which you seem to love to do Which makes sense because it's my time, Not your own that you're wasting away I want to get out of this hamster wheel But you're busy super gluing my feet to the spokes Not only trapping me here, But impairing my efficiency too
0
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 2:05 PM UTC
I'm not a rebel
it drips down the strands of hair that populate my scalp seeping in the pores penetrating the folds and fissures of my brain it lodges itself in my cerebral cortex impairing my thinking, judgement and reasoning it reigns it never ceases continuously present
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May 3, 2013
May 3, 2013 at 2:02 PM UTC
impairment
Dirt roads wind with hours’ distance And a green canopy stretches, Suspended above the bare core of trees. Pine nettles rest year long, Settled into their collective bed. Still water fingers the shore, Smoothing out its stress lines, Imbedded in the granite lake floor. Here, towering mountains with impairing storms, Wild wind, and impetuous fog Stands in the crystal clarity Given by reality. When night comes, bringing with it A dark unimpeded with polluting lights, The stars outnumber their dark counterparts, Leaving no expansion of space Without a twinkle Or a holy glowing light.
0
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 8:11 AM UTC
New Hampshire
I fell in love with the boy your words made you out to be but the truth laid behind your poetry The bitter-sweet chill of November air reminds me of the moment my eyes met yours and something inside me whirled brighter than the fall leaves masking the chilly air the warning a snowstorm would soon approach and hit me harder than your words ever could But how was I to know I would one day memorize the curve of your lips, as they smiled so delicately against mine and the way your hands pulled me closer into your embrace, engulfing me like the lap of the ocean's waves right before the tsunami hit How am I supposed to forget the way your strong hands felt running through my hair, desperately trying to finish the race, frantically scrambling to cross that finish line strands of chestnut hair impairing your vision to the sparkling blue eyes wanting and the burning in your thighs aching, growing stronger, until you finished that race How am I supposed to erase the feeling of your lips, one with mine the taste of Listerine, and wanting more, on your tongue I remember the way you looked at me with those haunting eyes and award winning smile as if you were Brad Pitt and I was Angelina Jolie as if you were The Green River Killer and I was your next victim as if you actually gave a **** about me I remember your touch, soft curious desperate venturing places no one had ventured before exploring my boundaries, in more ways than you could ever comprehend I remember your letters filled with those words I fell so hard for But now the pen is in my hands the fall leaves have turned into winter snow my lips no longer belong with yours and the race is long lost I have lived months absent of your lips your stares your touch and now? the truth lies behind my poetry
0
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 9:19 PM UTC
One of those nights
I fell in love with the boy your words made you out to be but the truth laid behind your poetry The bitter-sweet chill of November air reminds me of the moment my eyes met yours and something inside me whirled brighter than the fall leaves masking the chilly air the warning a snowstorm would soon approach and hit me harder than your words ever could But how was I to know I would one day memorize the curve of your lips, as they smiled so delicately against mine and the way your hands pulled me closer into your embrace, engulfing me like the lap of the ocean's waves right before the tsunami hit How am I supposed to forget the way your strong hands felt running through my hair, desperately trying to finish the race, frantically scrambling to cross that finish line strands of chestnut hair impairing your vision to the sparkling blue eyes wanting and the burning in your thighs aching, growing stronger, until you finished that race How am I supposed to erase the feeling of your lips, one with mine the taste of Listerine, and wanting more, on your tongue I remember the way you looked at me with those haunting eyes and award winning smile as if you were Brad Pitt and I was Angelina Jolie as if you were The Green River Killer and I was your next victim as if you actually gave a **** about me I remember your touch, soft curious desperate venturing places no one had ventured before exploring my boundaries, in more ways than you could ever comprehend I remember your letters filled with those words I fell so hard for But now the pen is in my hands the fall leaves have turned into winter snow my lips no longer belong with yours and the race is long lost I have lived months absent of your lips your stares your touch and now? the truth lies behind my poetry
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52
THE past claims me in the most selfish way. the visions impairing my soul. Visions of you wrapped with me. your skin smelling of you, going deep. The gasoline ignited with a simple thought. the fire blazing high. the burning out of control and not stopping until I am gone. engulfed, willingly.
0
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 2:21 PM UTC
Thoughts of you.
*Fall in the Ocean, don't fall in love you may forget how drowning felt like but you simply can't ignore the ache of a cracked heart or its shards decorating the floor sharp pieces that you'll step on and wounds reopen pieces which will clatter from deep within to echo the despair especially when you're beyond repair jump off a cliff and fracture, broken bones heal fractured Hearts seldom truly find healing,it's chilling when you place support about it but nothing changes and the more you organise your splintered heart the further apart it crumbles and breaks apart fall in Hell, the devils and monsters can be exorcised but the monsters of a dead romance never leave they taunt and haunt with voices whispering in your head and drug you through a living Hell that's eternal fall in acid, not a single piece of you'll be left behind love'll rip and have your pieces wandering blind fall in an abyss or the darkest deepest pit someone might find you,you'll wash off the **** but Love'll rob your sanity for it's mind impairing it'll take away your radars, disorient your bearing fall from the sky, your entire existence will splatter falling in love will deny you your esteem and have you stutter fall off a bicycle, you'll get up,dust yourself and ride in love you'll live your life like you've died climb one and jump, there's less pain falling off a tree unlike the fantasy of love that chains and never sets you free fall in the Sea, the sharks'll leave nothing for the world to see love will bewilder you through an endless cyclonic ecstasy it's worse compared to being once and for all torn by jaws which takes you to oblivion where lives no feeling of loss fall for anything else, fall for drugs and addiction love is a blade that'll never cease making its incision fall for wines and whiskeys,or any adulterated concoction my broken heart thinks all but falling in love a far better decision when you're out there searching for whatever you deserve embrace all else your heart desires, all else but love*
0
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 3:31 AM UTC
All Else But Love
*Fall in the Ocean, don't fall in love you may forget how drowning felt like but you simply can't ignore the ache of a cracked heart or its shards decorating the floor sharp pieces that you'll step on and wounds reopen pieces which will clatter from deep within to echo the despair especially when you're beyond repair jump off a cliff and fracture, broken bones heal fractured Hearts seldom truly find healing,it's chilling when you place support about it but nothing changes and the more you organise your splintered heart the further apart it crumbles and breaks apart fall in Hell, the devils and monsters can be exorcised but the monsters of a dead romance never leave they taunt and haunt with voices whispering in your head and drug you through a living Hell that's eternal fall in acid, not a single piece of you'll be left behind love'll rip and have your pieces wandering blind fall in an abyss or the darkest deepest pit someone might find you,you'll wash off the **** but Love'll rob your sanity for it's mind impairing it'll take away your radars, disorient your bearing fall from the sky, your entire existence will splatter falling in love will deny you your esteem and have you stutter fall off a bicycle, you'll get up,dust yourself and ride in love you'll live your life like you've died climb one and jump, there's less pain falling off a tree unlike the fantasy of love that chains and never sets you free fall in the Sea, the sharks'll leave nothing for the world to see love will bewilder you through an endless cyclonic ecstasy it's worse compared to being once and for all torn by jaws which takes you to oblivion where lives no feeling of loss fall for anything else, fall for drugs and addiction love is a blade that'll never cease making its incision fall for wines and whiskeys,or any adulterated concoction my broken heart thinks all but falling in love a far better decision when you're out there searching for whatever you deserve embrace all else your heart desires, all else but love*
Continue reading...
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