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"impeding" poems
He pulled and parked the supply red wagon, then climbed the mast to the captain's cabin. Captain Red is ready for adventure. A quest to collect the world's best treasure. His pirate crew is renowned far and wide. They're rough and tough and they don't ever cry. But none of them boys has the captain's stuff. So don't mess with him, man, cause he don't bluff. This motley crew has achieved many feats, has never suffered a single defeat, and has seen the most incredible things: whales, whirlpools, storms, mermaids, krakens and kings. "Set sail," squaws the boss as he munches lunch and the Ocean Destroyer leaves port Wunche. These rolling green hills are now ocean waves. That blue sky, however, remains the same. ... "Hey Benjamin!" beams the first mate Susanne. Impeding the journey that just began. "We already played this game. It's my turn!" The first mate trumps the captain, Ben will learn. ... Her spacesuit crew is renowned far and wide. They're smart and nice and they don't ever lie. But none of these girls has commander's stuff. So don't mess with her, girl, cause she don't bluff. This brainy crew has achieved many feats, has never suffered a single defeat, and has seen the most incredible things: aliens, black holes, stars, and martian springs. "Lift off!" beams the boss as she munches lunch and the Star Chasing Rocket leaves base Wunche. These rural backyards are now rocky space. That blue sky, however, remains the same. ... "Hey Susanne!" beams the pilot Benjamin. Impeding the flight before it begins. "We already played this game. It's my turn!" The pilot trumps commander, Sue will learn. ... Boys and girls grow up and out the front door. Those children’s games evolve to adult chores; those kiddy lawns to grandparent’s domain. That blue sky, however, remains the same.
0
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 5:58 PM UTC
Captain Red Wunche and Commander Sue
He pulled and parked the supply red wagon, then climbed the mast to the captain's cabin. Captain Red is ready for adventure. A quest to collect the world's best treasure. His pirate crew is renowned far and wide. They're rough and tough and they don't ever cry. But none of them boys has the captain's stuff. So don't mess with him, man, cause he don't bluff. This motley crew has achieved many feats, has never suffered a single defeat, and has seen the most incredible things: whales, whirlpools, storms, mermaids, krakens and kings. "Set sail," squaws the boss as he munches lunch and the Ocean Destroyer leaves port Wunche. These rolling green hills are now ocean waves. That blue sky, however, remains the same. ... "Hey Benjamin!" beams the first mate Susanne. Impeding the journey that just began. "We already played this game. It's my turn!" The first mate trumps the captain, Ben will learn. ... Her spacesuit crew is renowned far and wide. They're smart and nice and they don't ever lie. But none of these girls has commander's stuff. So don't mess with her, girl, cause she don't bluff. This brainy crew has achieved many feats, has never suffered a single defeat, and has seen the most incredible things: aliens, black holes, stars, and martian springs. "Lift off!" beams the boss as she munches lunch and the Star Chasing Rocket leaves base Wunche. These rural backyards are now rocky space. That blue sky, however, remains the same. ... "Hey Susanne!" beams the pilot Benjamin. Impeding the flight before it begins. "We already played this game. It's my turn!" The pilot trumps commander, Sue will learn. ... Boys and girls grow up and out the front door. Those children’s games evolve to adult chores; those kiddy lawns to grandparent’s domain. That blue sky, however, remains the same.
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44
The stereotype of the female type/ packing more than you give yourself credit for/ Spineless, backstabbing ******* in backless dresses fronting to impress dogs who are/ Barking at ******* that are easy to prey on/ hoping to get a good **** to sniff/ While your tail is out there waggin/ makin’ their tongues turn stiff/ There are many who live in that dog eat dog world/ And boy it can get pretty rough out there/ catch that innuendo? You see, effing around is simple and it works like this; you F what you see/ Sometimes you find what you think to be ‘the one’ only to be deceived/ Because you believed what you saw and didn’t take the time to dig deep/ Next thing you know, your heart has been sunk in the pool of tears you weep/ You resort to a resolution to that’s easy to keep/ rectify to the erectified/ Yes, maybe some of this is harsh/ but if you cant handle the truth/ You wont know the difference between what’s right and wrong to do/ There’s a difference between a princess and a queen/ A princess who’s prince-less will settle for the frog/ While a queen knows how to stand on her own two feet/ Royalty is respected and they stand tough even when they’re rejected/ It’s hard to see something beautiful be used by a tool who’ll/ Only add her to the collection of his tool box/ then look for a new one/ But the reality of realism is/ reality can be pretty unreal sometimes/ And Miss Congeniality secretly believes the fallacy/ she wasn’t born to shine/ Selling herself at a price her mom would hate to see/ Giving out discounts because she can’t even count on herself/ The worst part is, it’s all manipulating her moral health/ And it’s demeaning her demeanor, being treated like Miss Demeanor/ But she didn’t mean for/ her life to turn to this/ She made three-left turns/ only to find the fourth right doesn’t exist/ Maybe a forthright person is all it takes to set her straight/ Boost her confidence/ make her feel great/ and tell her it’s never too late/ To find a new place to start over/ and get your mind in a better state/ That’s why this poem is called Tulip Teaser/ your own two lips are teasing you/ Impeding you from being you/ misleading you through your own garden/ But you’re better than that/ and there’s more to your garden than you think/ Just stick to your roots and let yourself grow to be the beautiful flower everyone likes to see/
0
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 2:11 PM UTC
Tulip Teaser
The stereotype of the female type/ packing more than you give yourself credit for/ Spineless, backstabbing ******* in backless dresses fronting to impress dogs who are/ Barking at ******* that are easy to prey on/ hoping to get a good **** to sniff/ While your tail is out there waggin/ makin’ their tongues turn stiff/ There are many who live in that dog eat dog world/ And boy it can get pretty rough out there/ catch that innuendo? You see, effing around is simple and it works like this; you F what you see/ Sometimes you find what you think to be ‘the one’ only to be deceived/ Because you believed what you saw and didn’t take the time to dig deep/ Next thing you know, your heart has been sunk in the pool of tears you weep/ You resort to a resolution to that’s easy to keep/ rectify to the erectified/ Yes, maybe some of this is harsh/ but if you cant handle the truth/ You wont know the difference between what’s right and wrong to do/ There’s a difference between a princess and a queen/ A princess who’s prince-less will settle for the frog/ While a queen knows how to stand on her own two feet/ Royalty is respected and they stand tough even when they’re rejected/ It’s hard to see something beautiful be used by a tool who’ll/ Only add her to the collection of his tool box/ then look for a new one/ But the reality of realism is/ reality can be pretty unreal sometimes/ And Miss Congeniality secretly believes the fallacy/ she wasn’t born to shine/ Selling herself at a price her mom would hate to see/ Giving out discounts because she can’t even count on herself/ The worst part is, it’s all manipulating her moral health/ And it’s demeaning her demeanor, being treated like Miss Demeanor/ But she didn’t mean for/ her life to turn to this/ She made three-left turns/ only to find the fourth right doesn’t exist/ Maybe a forthright person is all it takes to set her straight/ Boost her confidence/ make her feel great/ and tell her it’s never too late/ To find a new place to start over/ and get your mind in a better state/ That’s why this poem is called Tulip Teaser/ your own two lips are teasing you/ Impeding you from being you/ misleading you through your own garden/ But you’re better than that/ and there’s more to your garden than you think/ Just stick to your roots and let yourself grow to be the beautiful flower everyone likes to see/
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33
Hey, past me from so close yet seeming long ago... A knot from my sweater's bow I regret tying despite how unkempt the ribbons look hanging by my sides because now it's digging into my back The hair I can't decide if I want out where it's pretty and makes me look less like a generic nerd yet gets in my face and food and life The jeans I insist upon wearing without a belt even though their slipping down my **** may actually outweigh the pain of loosening the belt The tennis shoes I'm too attached to give up that emit a constant squeak, squeak, squeaking through the hallways whether it's caused by residual rain from outside or not The glasses, fond of slipping down my nose at frequent intervals, covered in smudges I rarely notice till they get out of hand The phone whose screen happened to crack at the most inopportune moment and takes forever to read my finger print The jacket that should be a highlighter blue but rather presents itself as a canvas of the week's tomato stains The face covered in acne- The stomach with fat instead of muscle- The arms lacking muscle- The legs with too much hair- I've always acknowledged that perfection is not possible, yet I have to at least try to strive I think, as I sit at my desk, fingers typing fragmented sentences, attempting to convey thoughts speeding too fast to grasp Yet, just a simple poem of reflection brings to light these numerous deficiencies, many of which I COULD fix were it not the invisible fiend upon whom I stamp the label-laziness These deficiencies, many of which aren't even noticed by those around me, some of whom are better some are worse But it's not as simple as that, I've known I can't just be "one of the people", I need to find something, some identity, some way out of my seemingly impossible to escape label of "just above average" In academics, in extracurricular activities, EVERYTHING, I seem to be at a stagnant I've done bad, I've done "just above average", but never above. What is the point if you get plenty of losses and plenty of "fine" but no victories? It's something about me though, somehow I believe, subconsciously, I'm impeding myself. I'm holding myself back. ... Why?
0
Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 3:50 PM UTC
Holding Myself Back
Hey, past me from so close yet seeming long ago... A knot from my sweater's bow I regret tying despite how unkempt the ribbons look hanging by my sides because now it's digging into my back The hair I can't decide if I want out where it's pretty and makes me look less like a generic nerd yet gets in my face and food and life The jeans I insist upon wearing without a belt even though their slipping down my **** may actually outweigh the pain of loosening the belt The tennis shoes I'm too attached to give up that emit a constant squeak, squeak, squeaking through the hallways whether it's caused by residual rain from outside or not The glasses, fond of slipping down my nose at frequent intervals, covered in smudges I rarely notice till they get out of hand The phone whose screen happened to crack at the most inopportune moment and takes forever to read my finger print The jacket that should be a highlighter blue but rather presents itself as a canvas of the week's tomato stains The face covered in acne- The stomach with fat instead of muscle- The arms lacking muscle- The legs with too much hair- I've always acknowledged that perfection is not possible, yet I have to at least try to strive I think, as I sit at my desk, fingers typing fragmented sentences, attempting to convey thoughts speeding too fast to grasp Yet, just a simple poem of reflection brings to light these numerous deficiencies, many of which I COULD fix were it not the invisible fiend upon whom I stamp the label-laziness These deficiencies, many of which aren't even noticed by those around me, some of whom are better some are worse But it's not as simple as that, I've known I can't just be "one of the people", I need to find something, some identity, some way out of my seemingly impossible to escape label of "just above average" In academics, in extracurricular activities, EVERYTHING, I seem to be at a stagnant I've done bad, I've done "just above average", but never above. What is the point if you get plenty of losses and plenty of "fine" but no victories? It's something about me though, somehow I believe, subconsciously, I'm impeding myself. I'm holding myself back. ... Why?
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22
Thank you, tourists For pausing. For capturing Every moment. Your cameras draped, Quivering below your necks Your necks rosy with sun. Sunscreen scents Swarm the air But the air bursts Diverse Dialects, Dogmas, and Dreams. Thank you From a resident, A student, A visitor, A wanderer. Thank you For immobilizing Glorious minutes For impeding time Just for a moment. For acknowledging- So that those who neglect to notice, Once again realize their riches. Thank you For your quiet grins As you regard The world. Thank you, travelers.
0
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 6:08 AM UTC
Ode to Tourists
Of recent stories, i’m told our moon was the largest. i denied fact as truth, as is so often used. i wrote a report filled with errors only a universe could make and killed time for old time’s sake. but the buried limousines have somehow grown into trees where crows drink wine, and talk of future times where their only worry will be which way to glide to empty their minds. but talking to the doctor today, he was convinced of impeding biological holocaust - where bodies pile up as your vision is lost - and all along you were the fastest crook, spending money like time, and quicker than you took it. my vagrancy knows of great discord, the kind my mind mutates into a reward but the last vision of a dead knights sword is the exterior of the universe after all our inner wars. vapors collide in one last goodbye of both our love and time. i breathe your lips for one last eclipse and forget all the reasons why. we’ll meet again, on the run - towards the sun, but not with everyone. my mind goes blank with every breath of mine that you take
0
Jan 9, 2012
Jan 9, 2012 at 11:09 PM UTC
drawing
Yes, mechanical leaf mover, create the shrillest sounds known to man. See if it doesn't just slowly make the world a ******** place by taking away the joy of crunchy leafs, which gradually become moist, squishy leafs, then, after a long period, emerging from a snow covering thaw and lie there, fully exposed, recumbent, depriving the dormant seed of grass its sunlight, preventing grass, freeing up water for infrastructure needs more urgent and rational than supporting the most boring of decorative plants encompassing our lives. I guess what I'm saying is that, not only are your sounds annoying, they're just another of the short-sighted endeavors our present society insists on. You are the "circumcision-for-hygiene-purposes" of our urban planning. **** you, leaf blower. **** you and the excruciating environmental ignorance you represent. I SAID **** YOU, LEAF BLOWER, YET YOU PERSIST! You need to let that leafy-foreskin grow, covering the shaft of ground. Rid it of the pleasure-impeding growth of grass! Let the earth cry out for the sensation of tiny points of pressure moving delicately along its surface. Let the ground erupt with wild flowers, or at the very least, the trampled exuberance of plodded soil and the desperate levels of human debris that would collect upon it. Or are you trying to hide our wastefulness from us by removing something which is nothing, a nothing, invisible barrier? You've already succeeded in giving my apartment complex the ambience of an industrial production complex which I suppose it always was. Maybe your attempt at concealment has been a revelation. Or maybe I just can't think straight, because there's been a ******* leaf blower circling below my window all morning and now a heavy, riding lawn mower is coming to cut the grass that hasn't grown since September but has been watered every day even though it froze last night and it's almost November.
0
Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 12:45 PM UTC
For fuck's sake with the leaf blowers!?
Yes, mechanical leaf mover, create the shrillest sounds known to man. See if it doesn't just slowly make the world a ******** place by taking away the joy of crunchy leafs, which gradually become moist, squishy leafs, then, after a long period, emerging from a snow covering thaw and lie there, fully exposed, recumbent, depriving the dormant seed of grass its sunlight, preventing grass, freeing up water for infrastructure needs more urgent and rational than supporting the most boring of decorative plants encompassing our lives. I guess what I'm saying is that, not only are your sounds annoying, they're just another of the short-sighted endeavors our present society insists on. You are the "circumcision-for-hygiene-purposes" of our urban planning. **** you, leaf blower. **** you and the excruciating environmental ignorance you represent. I SAID **** YOU, LEAF BLOWER, YET YOU PERSIST! You need to let that leafy-foreskin grow, covering the shaft of ground. Rid it of the pleasure-impeding growth of grass! Let the earth cry out for the sensation of tiny points of pressure moving delicately along its surface. Let the ground erupt with wild flowers, or at the very least, the trampled exuberance of plodded soil and the desperate levels of human debris that would collect upon it. Or are you trying to hide our wastefulness from us by removing something which is nothing, a nothing, invisible barrier? You've already succeeded in giving my apartment complex the ambience of an industrial production complex which I suppose it always was. Maybe your attempt at concealment has been a revelation. Or maybe I just can't think straight, because there's been a ******* leaf blower circling below my window all morning and now a heavy, riding lawn mower is coming to cut the grass that hasn't grown since September but has been watered every day even though it froze last night and it's almost November.
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38
Stepping into the pristine, gentle atmosphere; truth hanging from the intricate crystal chandelier full of endless glow and luster - mischievously placed structure conspicuously elevating wonder Full of flashing, coruscating shimmer enthusiastically engaging the convivial space; evoking a spontaneous internal unfolding mirroring the perpetual suffering connected to the chosen impeding of spirit’s copious interweaving.
0
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 11:23 AM UTC
Crystal Chandelier
Our world was built to control us impeding our ability to thrive, induced into a system designed for wealth, power, and lies. Most of us end up broken enslaved for what little we have, the enemy divides our family as we follow another false flag. A price is paid for not conceding to an affirmation worth repeating, as our minds are all but defeated our souls are lost in a hidden war. History repeats itself as we are kept under control, when we accept defeat, we allow the enemy to grow. I was a victim just like you as degenerates overtook my home, life in the wake of calamity, cast on a pile of innocent bones. I am not the one you want to convene because I question everything, I am just a voice of honesty who was finally set free. Who finally broke through the construct of lies, the lies we were taught to believe in the construct of humanity.
0
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 7:21 AM UTC
The Construct
Barrels of oil painted smooth in acryllic fill up the cracks with a feeling spit out the money to feed the machine Fair if it's toiling kids draped along spoiled villians immersed to serve the version of a billionaire's dream eat the rich Try me after I've been taught I could've bought my chain I would've lost my name I should've dropped my shame facade to play the game We grew the youthful breath of heaven from the clay beneath our bones imbued and innervated aided you and drew the oath to play within the zone circle reverie treasury burdens bury the feathery, herding squarely to fame - put on a show eat the rich dare me you and yours invaded bated breath had sung belated effort, whistle "death has reared it's head at our expense so grab a sword. We can war this **** straight out of this ole ditch and fix whatever ***** gone wrong with it with grit and sense and build a fence" Forget the soil your roots are grown in, if you want to. bask in shadow of the weight of trust and decency impeding our advances to your winner's table fabled robin hoods with internets guess who's deft enough let you know through every filter left for us we may upset your dinner guests let em know what's on the menu eat the rich let em know The irony in learning how to burn the fuel that kills you after all the warning signs were there sound familiar? it's a slog burnin up, they'll crawl around and find a meal on common ground try the light show one more time maybe that'll work "The serfs are like a herd you see they can't be riled along without a sermon Burden them with silks and styles worry them toward money piles" Remind them of the fire they've been turning Analogies aside I must abide by me and mine but I've still got my eye on anything ...concerning eat the rich with discretion I guess.
0
May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 7:35 AM UTC
Billionaire Pie.
Barrels of oil painted smooth in acryllic fill up the cracks with a feeling spit out the money to feed the machine Fair if it's toiling kids draped along spoiled villians immersed to serve the version of a billionaire's dream eat the rich Try me after I've been taught I could've bought my chain I would've lost my name I should've dropped my shame facade to play the game We grew the youthful breath of heaven from the clay beneath our bones imbued and innervated aided you and drew the oath to play within the zone circle reverie treasury burdens bury the feathery, herding squarely to fame - put on a show eat the rich dare me you and yours invaded bated breath had sung belated effort, whistle "death has reared it's head at our expense so grab a sword. We can war this **** straight out of this ole ditch and fix whatever ***** gone wrong with it with grit and sense and build a fence" Forget the soil your roots are grown in, if you want to. bask in shadow of the weight of trust and decency impeding our advances to your winner's table fabled robin hoods with internets guess who's deft enough let you know through every filter left for us we may upset your dinner guests let em know what's on the menu eat the rich let em know The irony in learning how to burn the fuel that kills you after all the warning signs were there sound familiar? it's a slog burnin up, they'll crawl around and find a meal on common ground try the light show one more time maybe that'll work "The serfs are like a herd you see they can't be riled along without a sermon Burden them with silks and styles worry them toward money piles" Remind them of the fire they've been turning Analogies aside I must abide by me and mine but I've still got my eye on anything ...concerning eat the rich with discretion I guess.
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56
We are not the voice to elect a king We are anonymous I am not the one you want to convene because I question everything I am just a voice of honesty as degenerates overtake my home Life in the wake of calamity cast on a pile of bones It’s the new order of the ages, welcome to the end of days The beast controls our lives impeding our ability to thrive induced into a system designed for wealth, power, and lies A price is paid for not conceding to an affirmation worth repeating as I join the enlightened ones and wage a massive war A circularity that deviates from its path is not a circle anymore They will invoke internal and external threats then establish many secret prisons Slowly restricting the freedom of the Press while surveying ordinary citizens Chem-trails from government jets will be dismissed as urban legends Mandatory vaccinations designed to lower urban intelligence Radio-frequency identification chips mandatory for men, women, and children Man-made global pandemics separated for segregated sterilization Espionage becomes the new word for criticism And dissent will be the new word for treason In the name of self-preservation they will subvert the rule of law We are broken beyond repair, slaves for all we have As they divide our families, we ignore another false flag As history repeats, we are kept under control But we are not the voices to elect a king because we are anonymous
0
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 4:07 AM UTC
We Are Anonymous
mothers of                "β"-males; and the whole world, and all the world,                         ⠃⠇⠊⠝⠙           a civilised world...                                          without a chance to think!                i just think of: mothers of the beta-males...          how sooner i am to relinquish the act of                         impeding death! i die: but also make a relief of having had a mother! as man... loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser... the one word mantra starts bugging... loser with that sort of quiff?! twitter addict?! president of the united states of h'america?! now you're ******* joking... you aren't?! no comment. no comment. and? no comment. i like thinking about β-males... in terms of feminism, and in terms of β-males having mothers... by beta, i mean you don't / didn't have a mother... o.k.? now you know the answer my father would give... the d.n.a. ******** ends here! now! you have your little existential tirade about: holding a car-boot boutique in an essex field... you're fine... have it: i'm happy as ego becoming extinct... ******* snow fairies.
0
Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 10:01 PM UTC
mothers of "β"-males: "mothers"
I wake up in the morning, defeated by my dreams. You pull my heart apart, you rip me at the seams. I try so hard to be happy, I try not to care. But loneliness seeps in, all alone, no ones there. I put on my mask and continue with my day, Pretending that I'm happy, it's easier this way. I try to clear my mind, push out all despair, Yet loneliness seeps in, all alone, no ones there. Shuffle through the motions, don't pay attention to what I do, I cannot force mind to stop thinking about you. Yes I know that you don't want me, of this I am aware. So loneliness seeps in, all alone, no ones there. I lay in bed, to rest for the night, Tear sting my eyes, impeding my sight. A hallowed soul, into the darkness I stare, As loneliness seeps in, all alone, no ones there.
0
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 10:26 PM UTC
Loneliness Seeps In
Four feet, impeding on the sun, yet only two of them are mine. Time is rugged against the grain of questions falling on white sand. How come no one consciously believes in anything except fractured light and filtered water? He walks on broken heels and birttle bones, but somehow always steps in time. My only memory of Jesus is in the aftermath of a forest fire. We danced throughout destruction, and her hollow laughter brought the rain. She was the beginning of the rapture, sometimes I think of her and pray. I got lost six years ago, on the way to change my name. I wonder, how could I go missing if I never locked the door? Did anything really happen, or does nothing ever change? Four feet, impeding on the sun, yet none of them are mine.
0
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 9:08 PM UTC
Unopened Mail
my god, you embody admirable beauty you replenish all the good when my world is crashing with waves so persistent these rocks must remember the importance they leave when the tide begins to fall i'm dying to know, has this sand always been so white? i find peace in the piles my car is collecting i beam at the worlds these rocks are collecting communal homes, no fighting; just beauty my pale limbs get lost in sand so white shortly revealing themselves as waves come crashing sometimes i stand on that rugged pier and i fall awaiting the swallow of the sea, forgetting what i shouldn't remember here, the wind is always changing, it will never remember these impeding worries I've been collecting it may not be strong enough to catch my fall but it floods my lungs with beauty for a moment i feel this high is crashing a seagull grooms his messy feathers, searching for the white i tell the gull he's beautiful, despite his lack of white he distracts me from what i shouldn't remember in taking flight, i envy his crashing colliding with the water at such height, i grasp the shells I've been collecting i notice the tide receding from its path, revealing more beauty tripping over sand, i race to the pier for one last fall i attempt to leave but the oceans current begs for another fall the powdery sand on shore grabs me by the ankles and i'm glowing white i am flattered by this playful behavior, i'm grateful for its beauty with you, my dear, my peace of mind is all you must remember rest assured i will never abandon the memories we are collecting for it is you, i run to when my world is crashing i swiftly dodge the sudden rain so violently crashing in a dreamy state, i observe the drops as they fall still, my shoes are soaked from where water insisted on collecting in my rear view i see the sand converts to mud and is no longer white it doesn't matter though, its not the way i'll remember a storm could never retract genuine beauty recounting the days moments, drenched in beauty, i feel my body crashing time is limited when trying to remember as my eyelids fall white sand is all i see and i'm buried beneath the pillows I've been collecting
0
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 1:36 AM UTC
safe place
my god, you embody admirable beauty you replenish all the good when my world is crashing with waves so persistent these rocks must remember the importance they leave when the tide begins to fall i'm dying to know, has this sand always been so white? i find peace in the piles my car is collecting i beam at the worlds these rocks are collecting communal homes, no fighting; just beauty my pale limbs get lost in sand so white shortly revealing themselves as waves come crashing sometimes i stand on that rugged pier and i fall awaiting the swallow of the sea, forgetting what i shouldn't remember here, the wind is always changing, it will never remember these impeding worries I've been collecting it may not be strong enough to catch my fall but it floods my lungs with beauty for a moment i feel this high is crashing a seagull grooms his messy feathers, searching for the white i tell the gull he's beautiful, despite his lack of white he distracts me from what i shouldn't remember in taking flight, i envy his crashing colliding with the water at such height, i grasp the shells I've been collecting i notice the tide receding from its path, revealing more beauty tripping over sand, i race to the pier for one last fall i attempt to leave but the oceans current begs for another fall the powdery sand on shore grabs me by the ankles and i'm glowing white i am flattered by this playful behavior, i'm grateful for its beauty with you, my dear, my peace of mind is all you must remember rest assured i will never abandon the memories we are collecting for it is you, i run to when my world is crashing i swiftly dodge the sudden rain so violently crashing in a dreamy state, i observe the drops as they fall still, my shoes are soaked from where water insisted on collecting in my rear view i see the sand converts to mud and is no longer white it doesn't matter though, its not the way i'll remember a storm could never retract genuine beauty recounting the days moments, drenched in beauty, i feel my body crashing time is limited when trying to remember as my eyelids fall white sand is all i see and i'm buried beneath the pillows I've been collecting
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39
I wrote I love you in the sand at the beach Tide swallowed the words and drowned them But the waves were not the reason for impeding speech My awkward asocial character is the one to condemn   Now the words are gone like the tearstains on my sheets that I have just  bleached.
0
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 6:30 PM UTC
My Voice Was Lost.
Don’t you just feel like something is missing Like a breath of fresh air that leads to reminiscing About that time where you were kissing The one wondering if there was something missing From him from her from you, not sure, and it leads to some hissing From rattle shakes to rattle snakes playing games to laying blame The venom quakes through it mistakes you for them You can’t take truth, but it breaks you and your heart too, you pretend “No, there’s nothing missing” shifting from the kiss thing to not even being your own friend Reality reflects that fact back at-you like a sneeze but a metafive couldn’t even bless you, please So you just go on with the metaphors missing a piece to the puzzle As you tussle with the metamorphoseasons Your metamorphoseizing with abundance of reasons to struggle life is like a stagnant puddle life is like a box of chocolate truffles without a picture key to tell me what’s inside as I workout my faith like a muscle Playing with similes hoping that if I poke an eye out it would at-least make you smile, or simle Atleast if I leave the left "I" out of simile, it makes a smile but it simultaneously left "I" out from We So humanity would be without me really being me so smile! Please! Wow, so that means I am insisting that dismissing my being would’ve been freeing if only my simileing would bring smiling but with my being goes my meaning thinking that pretending would be freeing when its only impeding leading you to realize that nothing was ever missing from anything at all But its up to you to make the call Noone can convince you of the truth, but you Noone can do what excites you like you No two can be you, you know its true Use the earth as your womb to begin anew Because the world needs more of you being you its okay to be you Thank you for being you
0
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 5:49 PM UTC
there is something missing
Don’t you just feel like something is missing Like a breath of fresh air that leads to reminiscing About that time where you were kissing The one wondering if there was something missing From him from her from you, not sure, and it leads to some hissing From rattle shakes to rattle snakes playing games to laying blame The venom quakes through it mistakes you for them You can’t take truth, but it breaks you and your heart too, you pretend “No, there’s nothing missing” shifting from the kiss thing to not even being your own friend Reality reflects that fact back at-you like a sneeze but a metafive couldn’t even bless you, please So you just go on with the metaphors missing a piece to the puzzle As you tussle with the metamorphoseasons Your metamorphoseizing with abundance of reasons to struggle life is like a stagnant puddle life is like a box of chocolate truffles without a picture key to tell me what’s inside as I workout my faith like a muscle Playing with similes hoping that if I poke an eye out it would at-least make you smile, or simle Atleast if I leave the left "I" out of simile, it makes a smile but it simultaneously left "I" out from We So humanity would be without me really being me so smile! Please! Wow, so that means I am insisting that dismissing my being would’ve been freeing if only my simileing would bring smiling but with my being goes my meaning thinking that pretending would be freeing when its only impeding leading you to realize that nothing was ever missing from anything at all But its up to you to make the call Noone can convince you of the truth, but you Noone can do what excites you like you No two can be you, you know its true Use the earth as your womb to begin anew Because the world needs more of you being you its okay to be you Thank you for being you
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43
Perhaps the most positively uninteresting tragedy Is the story of flawed, impeded love. For whenever I venture, strive, endeavor— To exit my haven of solitary isolation I’m devoid of any bravery. Though I wish I could say “People scare me! I don’t want to be judged For things I cannot control, For transgressions and loves Methods, impairment, systems and failures Despicable lies and harrowing truths Cringeworthy trances and malicious propositions— That’s the reason I tragically fear you!" But such would be blatant lies. For I am not a reticent sheep, Not afraid of human, futile words It’s not any judgement or hate I despise It’s just that I can’t ever compromise I’m so terrified of judging Even in my mind The people of the world Precious brethren of my kind— I don’t wish to hurt a weakling Or a disgraceful abomination Thus, I’ll isolate from anyone For fear of impeding my love Of all alive, of everyone.
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Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 12:09 PM UTC
Impeded Love
The cursed clouds decide to stay Through this blacked out phase So I proceed to play During darkened days Swirling black In a sky of flak The courage I lack To counterattack Bombs explode Smoke blocks the sun Now that I know Dying can be fun To the finish line I run After I feel I am done The sky gets darker By permanent markers The sun hides The dude abides I am under a curse Of things getting worse I look for a nurse Out the back of my hearse Love can be found And unwound No one is bound So they leave town The days used to be bright Until I found reasons to fight And the grass died When my *** lied I can't retrieve the light When I am blinded I'm unable to use sight So I cannot find it Darkened days Block the sun's rays I can't see through the haze Of these darkened days Time passes Like lightning flashes And depleting drug stashes Impeding love's crashes When I'm burnt to ashes I don't know if I'm romantic Or in an existential crisis But as I become tantric I feel I must fight this So I wield a sword Of tears that poured For those I adored Until they brought darkness Despite my praise When they act heartless I live darkened days
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Dec 24, 2017
Dec 24, 2017 at 5:43 AM UTC
Darkened Days
I wear the scars of our love like the tattoos of a lost warrior. On my heart; their weight impeding my decisions. My mind; clouded with visions in the future we envisioned. My skin; crawling with emotions That tear at my flesh. Solely we'll be missing you. My soul; split into two pieces for its whole life me the prisoner of true love held captive in my own prison.
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Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 2:38 PM UTC
Unruly Love
Clouds go through my flesh, As I feel my mind elevate high into the atmosphere Steering clear of rain clouds All the negative energy gets me down, This smoke is thick and its loud Inspires laughs like a clown I can feel the vibration of life When I’m on the ground. In the air there’s not a care in a world for me No untimely emergences impeding on my life Like a burglary, stealing my time and my essence At times my presence is a blessing When I get with Mary Jane the game changes She’s no regular Dame she invades my body And promotes changes Can even make me forget my name Insignificant is my pain in her eyes When she blows my mind My problems whisk away in the wind She heals my mental and physical ill’s Without me popping a pill filled with poison She is part of the Earth so for what it worth I try to preserve the dirt, that’s where I will go And that’s where she will be So one day in her seeds I’ll be And maybe someone will get high off me.
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Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 10:45 PM UTC
Smoking On A Cloud
As of lately, I've been lost in translation in this transcended state of thought every thought running into one another Impeding on the clarity of my perception Leaving me in a state of panic Searching for something slightly out of reach As the needle threads the weave My mind entangles the threads into a mass insanity of run on sentences Leaving me nothing but breathless Left in a state of weak existence Wrapped within the roots of the stem of my thoughts and they grow into shadows of monsters trying to break free from the dark but they cannot reach the other side The light, it seems much too far to carry on. This train wreck of distortion is slowly seeping into my soul. Deafening the voices at my beck and call A tragic winding road of memories keeps bringing me right back to the same place I just left and now I'm right back where I started again A streaming flowing river of never-ending thoughts Always escaping me Just there long enough to hold on to a string of words that hardly make any sense Am I dreaming or is this death? I cannot recall ever lying down on that bed. Resting my head where all those demons dwell The lump in my throat fiercely swells and the smoke filled coughs mask my cries Repairs the dreadfulness of my daily life I cannot escape this restless mind It won't let me rest, it won't power down The switch is broken and I've lost my crown along with all the jewels I once possessively possessed My mind is wandering somewhere and I haven't a clue when It's due back © 2013 Christina Jackson
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Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 2:07 AM UTC
Flowing stream of thoughts
As of lately, I've been lost in translation in this transcended state of thought every thought running into one another Impeding on the clarity of my perception Leaving me in a state of panic Searching for something slightly out of reach As the needle threads the weave My mind entangles the threads into a mass insanity of run on sentences Leaving me nothing but breathless Left in a state of weak existence Wrapped within the roots of the stem of my thoughts and they grow into shadows of monsters trying to break free from the dark but they cannot reach the other side The light, it seems much too far to carry on. This train wreck of distortion is slowly seeping into my soul. Deafening the voices at my beck and call A tragic winding road of memories keeps bringing me right back to the same place I just left and now I'm right back where I started again A streaming flowing river of never-ending thoughts Always escaping me Just there long enough to hold on to a string of words that hardly make any sense Am I dreaming or is this death? I cannot recall ever lying down on that bed. Resting my head where all those demons dwell The lump in my throat fiercely swells and the smoke filled coughs mask my cries Repairs the dreadfulness of my daily life I cannot escape this restless mind It won't let me rest, it won't power down The switch is broken and I've lost my crown along with all the jewels I once possessively possessed My mind is wandering somewhere and I haven't a clue when It's due back © 2013 Christina Jackson
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46
The clock stands still- the battery does not live any longer. A man looks at me and asks "Will you go?" Fear is struck within me, and I cannot move. My esophagus betrays me, allowing only choking sounds to be released. I slowly close my eyes trying to dream this mess away. "No" My voice quivers- shaking just as my heart does. I hear footsteps walking away from me- heads shaking in disgust. I can feel the ice freezing my soul impeding my movement forward. My life is frostbitten and I have lost the warmth. A fire will never be sparked. The clock fills me up- it is the broken avatar of my spirit.
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Feb 9, 2011
Feb 9, 2011 at 4:18 PM UTC
Timekeeper
And it waited a moment longer than a moment’s pause It was rain resisting its temper, attempting tenderness Each drop the poignant pain in a patient bladder when you hold to hear the end of a song in a play or a whisper behind you despite your body insisting you must leave Then, it drowned the saplings in the gutter a violent politeness an apology for impeding a housewarming gift
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Jan 31, 2021
Jan 31, 2021 at 3:27 PM UTC
rain on another day the landlord didn't clear the gutters