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"impervious" poems
I am warmhearted and icy cold, with a pretty face that's getting old. I am fragile yet tough as a man, struggle thru life with no real plan. I am petite and cuss like a trucker, slightly naive, but I'm no sucker. I am a sinner with a halo of gold, an open book with secrets untold. I am a hypocrite but always play fair, a bleeding heart and I don't care. I am a mother who acts like a child, crazy, impatient and easily riled. I am spontaneous and I am a bore, forever forgiving, I still keep score. I am unstable and wonderfully wise, a ****** deviant in sweet disguise. I am creative and self-destructive naturally skilled and unproductive. I am shy and I am outspoken with a heart of stone, easily broken. I am awkward and well refined, lost, insightful and a little love-blind. I am respected and I am addicted shamed by burdens, self inflicted. I am a perfectionist and I am a slob, unbiased and shallow, an inept snob. I am nocturnal, a creature of night, blissfully ignorant, typically right. I am cautious and I have no fear, a loser and quitter, still I persevere. I am brilliant and easily amused, over-zealous and under-enthused. I am impervious with wounds to heal, an occasional liar just keepin' it real. I am weird and lovely and mean- I am what I am.......100 Aileen.
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Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 3:50 PM UTC
I Am...
I was a caterpillar , before I became a butterfly . The pain I had to endure in order to transform into the beauty I am today . This is my tale . In the forest there was, My cocoon wrapped in the finest silk, With a power to live in a colorful world. To dream and conquer goals. A Vivacious soul spinning in the purest silk Growing and maturing as I spun. Wishing for freedom with my beautiful wings, Counting the days to be free and soar as a lively butterfly until You winded into my community Lured my queen and her uneven monarch. Tempted to sabotage my purity. For that you, Lured yourself into my vulernable cocoon with that trust, you decided to disrupt my process. How can one man ruin my nesting site? And I had faith in you , to be a figure I never had. I wanted. My heart ached for it. I needed it. To be loved . To be nurtured. To never be like those stray dogs looking for a home. This was the moment . Where.... Innocence stripped, heart captured. My Freedom gone. You were naive to comprehend On what you were doing... You would stab my cocoon with your sickening poison . Over and over you stabbed . Ruptured the veins of my innocence . To break my finest silk . Purity banished. Stabbing your poison was Making my cocoon useless , worthless , unwanted, colorless, I tried to run and I tried to scream but I was devoured by this poison It was the love I deserve. Couldn't escape , numb to the pain For every poison injected, I began to Question God? Where was he ? when I shed out a tear of help. Where was he? when my cocoon was destroyed. Was I loved God? when I muffled help in your name. I hated myself , I stay in my cocoon afraid to see my future. I wasn't going to be a beautiful butterfly Battered Butterfly My life seemed to be colorless No one wants a battered butterfly My life.... It seemed it had ended when poison sunk onto my helpless body . No one wants a battered butterfly Imprisoned to these chains. Being poisoned every night by different Predators. Oh God.... Those predators ... Battered lifeless little butterfly Was I ever loved in my nesting site? But then again nobody loves a battered butterfly How can I reach to heaven when I was worthless. Believed I was a vile ***** Tricked into a poison of hell. Battered Ugly Butterfly ***** Little butterfly*. There was no light in tunnel There was no holes in my silk To escape this poisonous nest. Why? Because I believe nobody wants save a battered butterfly How can the man I trusted ruined me. I thought you could be the one to complete my lovely monarch . To complete the missing piece. But you continued to misuse me. To haunt me. To barricade my heart To own my soul But one thing I can truly say You never once won over me. You never imprinted my change. I endured your pain That was a sign of God To show me what strength I am capable of. That was the light that I found, You had no control to inflict pain anymore. Because I became impervious to your pain. I am a beautiful butterfly reigning over my monarch with no thought of you. That is my freedom
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May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 2:25 AM UTC
Battered Butterfly
I was a caterpillar , before I became a butterfly . The pain I had to endure in order to transform into the beauty I am today . This is my tale . In the forest there was, My cocoon wrapped in the finest silk, With a power to live in a colorful world. To dream and conquer goals. A Vivacious soul spinning in the purest silk Growing and maturing as I spun. Wishing for freedom with my beautiful wings, Counting the days to be free and soar as a lively butterfly until You winded into my community Lured my queen and her uneven monarch. Tempted to sabotage my purity. For that you, Lured yourself into my vulernable cocoon with that trust, you decided to disrupt my process. How can one man ruin my nesting site? And I had faith in you , to be a figure I never had. I wanted. My heart ached for it. I needed it. To be loved . To be nurtured. To never be like those stray dogs looking for a home. This was the moment . Where.... Innocence stripped, heart captured. My Freedom gone. You were naive to comprehend On what you were doing... You would stab my cocoon with your sickening poison . Over and over you stabbed . Ruptured the veins of my innocence . To break my finest silk . Purity banished. Stabbing your poison was Making my cocoon useless , worthless , unwanted, colorless, I tried to run and I tried to scream but I was devoured by this poison It was the love I deserve. Couldn't escape , numb to the pain For every poison injected, I began to Question God? Where was he ? when I shed out a tear of help. Where was he? when my cocoon was destroyed. Was I loved God? when I muffled help in your name. I hated myself , I stay in my cocoon afraid to see my future. I wasn't going to be a beautiful butterfly Battered Butterfly My life seemed to be colorless No one wants a battered butterfly My life.... It seemed it had ended when poison sunk onto my helpless body . No one wants a battered butterfly Imprisoned to these chains. Being poisoned every night by different Predators. Oh God.... Those predators ... Battered lifeless little butterfly Was I ever loved in my nesting site? But then again nobody loves a battered butterfly How can I reach to heaven when I was worthless. Believed I was a vile ***** Tricked into a poison of hell. Battered Ugly Butterfly ***** Little butterfly*. There was no light in tunnel There was no holes in my silk To escape this poisonous nest. Why? Because I believe nobody wants save a battered butterfly How can the man I trusted ruined me. I thought you could be the one to complete my lovely monarch . To complete the missing piece. But you continued to misuse me. To haunt me. To barricade my heart To own my soul But one thing I can truly say You never once won over me. You never imprinted my change. I endured your pain That was a sign of God To show me what strength I am capable of. That was the light that I found, You had no control to inflict pain anymore. Because I became impervious to your pain. I am a beautiful butterfly reigning over my monarch with no thought of you. That is my freedom
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112
Softly seductive, some solvent serenity Under unbelievable umbrella unlimited Basking baked, both bonafide believers Making music more meaningful, memory's made Intellectual, introspective, incalculably impervious So **** said sits salted, suspecting supplantation Soon silly slips said summarize serendipitous Indefinitely inplosive, internalized into intangible inflagrante Viciousness voided, vague variables vital Eroticism enduring, end erit empathy
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Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 9:46 AM UTC
Submissive
She comes to me every night... When all is asleep with stars lit yonder. Comes to me with subtle might Peeking fiendishly from darkness's cover Await such time she'd choose to show Await the chance to finally take. Ready to pounce like a well tensioned bow Arrow-like talons, ever honed to stake. Awake or asleep, she would come without fail. Creep is her gait; this shadow clad figure. Always a ***** in my impervious mail. Claiming her wants with ferocious fervour. Deemed to be strong, easier to succumb. Don't fight...don't struggle... Don't call for aid... Just wait and will yourself numb She'd come regardless of prayers that's said. She was here with me last night In bed, I stared at a being that's faceless... And my heart wrenched tight. Gripping and feeding me senseless... Soon as she came, she left but not before Siphoning the good and replacing with dread... Stole was what she did; left me wanting more... Once deed is done, into the dark she fled. I know her all too well, Nocturnal guest that I unknowingly invite Her intentions to incite, not quell Send me spiralling through emotional blight. Day will recede, making room for dark She'll come; swift and without sound. She'll arrive majestic; inflicting her mark I'll wait for her, ready and unbound. Looking forward to her return This silent foe whom I find familiar. With every touch I cringe and burn Oh secret friend whom I'm beginning to savour... She is synonymous with various names Each would bear the likeness of semblance Let fly her cloak of not dissimilar aims Endearingly I call her..., Despondence...
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Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 12:23 AM UTC
Familiar F(r)iend
She comes to me every night... When all is asleep with stars lit yonder. Comes to me with subtle might Peeking fiendishly from darkness's cover Await such time she'd choose to show Await the chance to finally take. Ready to pounce like a well tensioned bow Arrow-like talons, ever honed to stake. Awake or asleep, she would come without fail. Creep is her gait; this shadow clad figure. Always a ***** in my impervious mail. Claiming her wants with ferocious fervour. Deemed to be strong, easier to succumb. Don't fight...don't struggle... Don't call for aid... Just wait and will yourself numb She'd come regardless of prayers that's said. She was here with me last night In bed, I stared at a being that's faceless... And my heart wrenched tight. Gripping and feeding me senseless... Soon as she came, she left but not before Siphoning the good and replacing with dread... Stole was what she did; left me wanting more... Once deed is done, into the dark she fled. I know her all too well, Nocturnal guest that I unknowingly invite Her intentions to incite, not quell Send me spiralling through emotional blight. Day will recede, making room for dark She'll come; swift and without sound. She'll arrive majestic; inflicting her mark I'll wait for her, ready and unbound. Looking forward to her return This silent foe whom I find familiar. With every touch I cringe and burn Oh secret friend whom I'm beginning to savour... She is synonymous with various names Each would bear the likeness of semblance Let fly her cloak of not dissimilar aims Endearingly I call her..., Despondence...
Continue reading...
41
Perhaps I'm encased in a box made out of two-way glass. A biased one-way mirror... Mutual vision doesn't meet nor pass. When you look at me, you only see, yourself for all that you care... Me? Just a faint suggestion that I'm even there.    Maybe that's why...       you ask about my life,       about my strife.       When I'm about to unload my       head,       I end up having to hear about yours       instead. Perhaps at times I travel around in a bubble of frosted glass. Only a blurred version of me... Clumsily ploughing through the mass. Incoherent, misunderstood and unclear. Unintelligible muffles of hopes and fear.    Maybe that's why...       My words are just perceived as       playful rhymes.       Never keeping up with the times.       Words regurgitated but no one       realises what's coming undone... Perhaps what I need is an armour of bulletproof glass. One of unique quality... One ahead of its class. You can do and say what you want. A shell that would bear most of the brunt.      *I'll be impervious.           I'll be protected.                I can be indifferent.                     I can be jaded.*    Maybe that's all I need...            *A shocking stunt.                  A fresh perspective.                       A new plan.                            Revised objectives.*    Maybe a different name to start all    over...       To tie the binds and thoughts that       scatter...       Hoping of holding everything       together... Come morning, all will be       forgotten... Maybe I'd still be beaten.    So for a chance that's,      fat as hell            or      thin just a sliver... Truth is of the three, I have neither... So...     what I've said doesn't really matter.
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Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 1:36 PM UTC
Maybe
Perhaps I'm encased in a box made out of two-way glass. A biased one-way mirror... Mutual vision doesn't meet nor pass. When you look at me, you only see, yourself for all that you care... Me? Just a faint suggestion that I'm even there.    Maybe that's why...       you ask about my life,       about my strife.       When I'm about to unload my       head,       I end up having to hear about yours       instead. Perhaps at times I travel around in a bubble of frosted glass. Only a blurred version of me... Clumsily ploughing through the mass. Incoherent, misunderstood and unclear. Unintelligible muffles of hopes and fear.    Maybe that's why...       My words are just perceived as       playful rhymes.       Never keeping up with the times.       Words regurgitated but no one       realises what's coming undone... Perhaps what I need is an armour of bulletproof glass. One of unique quality... One ahead of its class. You can do and say what you want. A shell that would bear most of the brunt.      *I'll be impervious.           I'll be protected.                I can be indifferent.                     I can be jaded.*    Maybe that's all I need...            *A shocking stunt.                  A fresh perspective.                       A new plan.                            Revised objectives.*    Maybe a different name to start all    over...       To tie the binds and thoughts that       scatter...       Hoping of holding everything       together... Come morning, all will be       forgotten... Maybe I'd still be beaten.    So for a chance that's,      fat as hell            or      thin just a sliver... Truth is of the three, I have neither... So...     what I've said doesn't really matter.
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58
It is only in the state of galvanization, do I realize what it means to be impervious in youth. I have a father who stresses to me this: "Happiness is elusive." This is the kind of statement that must be swished around in the mouth, only to be spat back out. "Happiness is elusive." It is cause for concern, really. I will do my best in order to refuse to believe it, to believe him. Happiness is achieved through discovery. I think that I may have once had a sister (in my recollection she was very pretty). I was around her whenever it was deemed possible to do so -- it honestly wasn't too often that I could. In the very nooks and crannies of my childhood, if I could fall back unto the natural sublimity of it all; I do recall that I had a sister. Her features must have been youthful, from what I remember she was no more than inexplicable. If it were not so ambiguous, I might feel more inclined to speak with her again some day. The past is a scary thing. I feel pain in thinking of the lengths behind me, for what I have cultivated is sour. Recently a good friend accused me of this: "Being a recluse, spiteful, selfish person." Her notion both confused and throttled me, and only afterward did she speak in such a fervently aural tone: "That is o.k., you're only human after all." This is the very comment that sliced my being into a duality, leaving me to write poetry in order to attempt to find higher acceptance. Wisdom is a well, funny euphemism for delusion; And in my youth I am impervious.
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Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 8:26 PM UTC
Wisdom is a well, funny euphemism for delusion
It is only in the state of galvanization, do I realize what it means to be impervious in youth. I have a father who stresses to me this: "Happiness is elusive." This is the kind of statement that must be swished around in the mouth, only to be spat back out. "Happiness is elusive." It is cause for concern, really. I will do my best in order to refuse to believe it, to believe him. Happiness is achieved through discovery. I think that I may have once had a sister (in my recollection she was very pretty). I was around her whenever it was deemed possible to do so -- it honestly wasn't too often that I could. In the very nooks and crannies of my childhood, if I could fall back unto the natural sublimity of it all; I do recall that I had a sister. Her features must have been youthful, from what I remember she was no more than inexplicable. If it were not so ambiguous, I might feel more inclined to speak with her again some day. The past is a scary thing. I feel pain in thinking of the lengths behind me, for what I have cultivated is sour. Recently a good friend accused me of this: "Being a recluse, spiteful, selfish person." Her notion both confused and throttled me, and only afterward did she speak in such a fervently aural tone: "That is o.k., you're only human after all." This is the very comment that sliced my being into a duality, leaving me to write poetry in order to attempt to find higher acceptance. Wisdom is a well, funny euphemism for delusion; And in my youth I am impervious.
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33
I.      the smell of sad odorless colorless like ***** similar familiar sidewinder effects, musty invasive, it has no specificity, no locale centrale, well closeted, saddling sadding, in place, plain sighted better to toy our lives, pervades persists, worse lingers, impervious to sprays and even everyone’s good literature (even Will S’s), good wishes good intentions and mood prayers to the nearest lay god on duty at the spiritual emergency room on weekends, still stink don’t think that this poem is for you; solely for the writer, your doppelgänger ****** your mirror’s inside hiding out place, I, who has your sadness smell into my skin cells creepily crept waft woof and warp wet weft-woven into the sad receptacles hidden in my head’s cubbies and the palms of my tree hands-covering face there are cures so wonderful and inexpensive but unavailable at the local Rite Aid, though they are the right aid recoverable, so closer than close, so close that the internist cannot prescribe them because he must inject himself first because the live bacteria in the antidote can **** all this odor lays down bamboo-strong roots; to eradicate you must dig down deep, six feet perhaps more, with heavy earth moving equipment, uproot at the source, follow sad always all-the-way down and the root great god gone, but the saddest truth stench odor yet present***
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Dec 1, 2018
Dec 1, 2018 at 10:54 AM UTC
I. the smell of sad
I don't ask your permission to make a fool of myself, tell you publicly what my near, dear ones have almost no clue my mental torment, headache-constant, imperial and impervious poetry, pills, therapy, caring words don't pay my kind of bills a man has a job. Feed you family. Protect and serve. do  it well, there is no acceptable excuse. none. was supposed to be easing on down, slipping under. come so far, my soul is old. my tired is w/o definition. the legs, knotted shoulders, body aging faster than I can write. the doctors only give me if's and unless's, contingencies in order to die a little slower warped, reversal of causality, the older I get, the more mouths to feed. tough, this unexpected situation, a nine lives time survivor, do it again? defraud myself, living like I can afford to write, with courageous reckless abandon, when earnest is deadly and Lady Luck gave me the finger. simply amazing. eyes, constantly tearing, nobody notices. Do not ! Like this poem, don't. hate weak, been strong so long. this well, just got dregs left, drudgery ain't potable, or even worth drinking. need nothing, for myself, need nothing. not one object on this planet want to posses or be possessed by. Monday wrestle with strife, star in my reality show once again. now, deny reality. Do not! Like this poem, don't. hate weak, been strong so long. my voice is stilled, it's poverty exposed, ashamed of every word I ever wrote. hush me not, for tis true, write on for an audience of one, on but one subject, a life, mine, yet, still unmastered, after decades of trying. poverty exposed, a life unmasked for what it is worth, or not.
0
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 12:38 PM UTC
Do Not! Like This Poem
I don't ask your permission to make a fool of myself, tell you publicly what my near, dear ones have almost no clue my mental torment, headache-constant, imperial and impervious poetry, pills, therapy, caring words don't pay my kind of bills a man has a job. Feed you family. Protect and serve. do  it well, there is no acceptable excuse. none. was supposed to be easing on down, slipping under. come so far, my soul is old. my tired is w/o definition. the legs, knotted shoulders, body aging faster than I can write. the doctors only give me if's and unless's, contingencies in order to die a little slower warped, reversal of causality, the older I get, the more mouths to feed. tough, this unexpected situation, a nine lives time survivor, do it again? defraud myself, living like I can afford to write, with courageous reckless abandon, when earnest is deadly and Lady Luck gave me the finger. simply amazing. eyes, constantly tearing, nobody notices. Do not ! Like this poem, don't. hate weak, been strong so long. this well, just got dregs left, drudgery ain't potable, or even worth drinking. need nothing, for myself, need nothing. not one object on this planet want to posses or be possessed by. Monday wrestle with strife, star in my reality show once again. now, deny reality. Do not! Like this poem, don't. hate weak, been strong so long. my voice is stilled, it's poverty exposed, ashamed of every word I ever wrote. hush me not, for tis true, write on for an audience of one, on but one subject, a life, mine, yet, still unmastered, after decades of trying. poverty exposed, a life unmasked for what it is worth, or not.
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74
Your teeth gnaw on my bones The sound of grinding is the only thing that fills my ears But it fills them from the inside out Like a white noise I am disconnected I am impervious Yet not immune to the sun My skin bakes and cracks And it gets filled with oil and grease and dirt and honey from the bees that I crushed with my feet because their wings made too much wind and it almost blew me off my feet but I stayed grounded I am the bark on the oak tree that the insects burrow into They gnaw from the inside out and they make their homes and bear their children I’ve raised a whole family inside of me They’ve hollowed me into an empty vessel The kind you leave under the kitchen sink that you pour grease and fat into but when you want to use me as a vase for your roses The soap cannot remove the oils and I slowly fill your flowers I **** them from the inside out That is my revenge
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Mar 2, 2012
Mar 2, 2012 at 4:15 AM UTC
Revenge
*A kiss from the night Drunk from all that pain Struggles to breath Can't remember her name Lost his eyes Love made him blind Hate made him see Scars remind A story that'll fade away Pages eaten by time Memories don't go away Weather is not kind Storms bash the home Walls ripped of from the bones All his secrets in the open Strangers are gone Who will love him now Caress and hold him now Wipe away all the blood stained tears Who will bring him down From the skies he wanders at nights Searching for a lost cause A moon that glows in anger A sun that's faux A wolf howls at a distance A dog barks nearby Night shows resistance Ghosts never pass-by A bleak view from a window And a madness from outside A letter of hatred Enough to hurt his pride He cannot see but whisper There's a tale hidden in the stones He warns once again About the rage hidden in his bones No one listens World won't skip a beat It Dosent matter Even if with blood he repeats They'll only see red Not what's in his head They look right through him Like staring at something dead He's afraid of the demons That guide him to scars Gently takes his hand Makes him draw on his arms Death , he mused Life had refused Where to walk now He is so confused And lies that destroyed lust Ashened black lies in dirt Forgiven but not forgotten In dark prisons they lurk Prisoners of darkness They weep solitude Embracing their fate Another sunrise they refute And to feed them love A mistake of the holy Wise seeks hurt Impervious of the story But a mother does worry If her child lives or not Thirteen cents For which he was bought She loved him and fed him hate Watched silently and smiled While he ate His mouth blood stained From the flesh of the saints Imploding the verses he preached Every rule he ever bleached Hands of god from heaven All hell broke loose when they reached And strangled his very neck Coldness in his eyes Staring at the mirrors that don't reflect*
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Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 1:08 PM UTC
Mirrors dont reflect
*A kiss from the night Drunk from all that pain Struggles to breath Can't remember her name Lost his eyes Love made him blind Hate made him see Scars remind A story that'll fade away Pages eaten by time Memories don't go away Weather is not kind Storms bash the home Walls ripped of from the bones All his secrets in the open Strangers are gone Who will love him now Caress and hold him now Wipe away all the blood stained tears Who will bring him down From the skies he wanders at nights Searching for a lost cause A moon that glows in anger A sun that's faux A wolf howls at a distance A dog barks nearby Night shows resistance Ghosts never pass-by A bleak view from a window And a madness from outside A letter of hatred Enough to hurt his pride He cannot see but whisper There's a tale hidden in the stones He warns once again About the rage hidden in his bones No one listens World won't skip a beat It Dosent matter Even if with blood he repeats They'll only see red Not what's in his head They look right through him Like staring at something dead He's afraid of the demons That guide him to scars Gently takes his hand Makes him draw on his arms Death , he mused Life had refused Where to walk now He is so confused And lies that destroyed lust Ashened black lies in dirt Forgiven but not forgotten In dark prisons they lurk Prisoners of darkness They weep solitude Embracing their fate Another sunrise they refute And to feed them love A mistake of the holy Wise seeks hurt Impervious of the story But a mother does worry If her child lives or not Thirteen cents For which he was bought She loved him and fed him hate Watched silently and smiled While he ate His mouth blood stained From the flesh of the saints Imploding the verses he preached Every rule he ever bleached Hands of god from heaven All hell broke loose when they reached And strangled his very neck Coldness in his eyes Staring at the mirrors that don't reflect*
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80
If I knew you were a super-villain i wouldn't have cared. I would have a rationale. A flower behind my back to tempt you from your weakness for black licorice and white lies. I would find an excuse to love you. If I had known you were a super-villain I would have spiked your drink with Love Potion No.9 and finding you impervious; consider my options and hope for the best. IF i had known this would never work out, you and me, you being a total ***** me being a fool; i would have stayed the course and seduced you to make you mine my very own special pain in the *** that has bewitched me.... I would have thrown myself under the bus; sipping a dry martini with a rye smile i would have succumbed to what i knew you could be; if only... I'd let us happen anyway.
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Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 11:58 AM UTC
Super-villain
Who else in this inhumane edifice can dance while the suspecting eyes stare at his moistened armpit? Pathetically unknowing music uplifts not just the soul but the intellect. Who else got the fire in imparting? or … did theirs even start a single spark since then? Who else brings out the best in these hopefuls? It’s all the worse and worst that they see. And you think San Pedro would be pleased when you gloat you made all the priests, doctors, and engineers? Woe to you who humiliate the chair by your indolent butts while uttering kindergartenous blabbers you claim to be education! Then you get all you want while tabula rasa remains tabula rasa. And you You seated on the higher chairs! Why don’t you trample down awhile and put your cataracting sight to use before it even brings you to the death of light. Has anyone of you even heard what your god told to Pontius Pilate? Ha! The you-have-no-power-over-me’s have always been impervious to you bigots! And you say to your kin let me handle it. When it is delayed and their impatience grows you see they’ll leave. Did you ever fret about deadlines of bills, of matriculas, of debts? What do you feed to your clan? Feeds? Get Ripley’s here! Oh how divine to utter all the Fs! ©Glenn L. Sentes February 20, 2013
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Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 5:41 AM UTC
The Gospel According to Mentor
. Cloak of invisibility... *Render me unseen. As I tremble with the fury of a thousand downfalls and untimely disappointments. Let the complacent eye merely skim the surface of my masquerade... Without learning of what seethes underneath.* Cloak of invincibility... *Render me impervious... To the callous digits that know only to point. To the disastrous effect of heated words. To the unforgiving nature of my wayward thoughts and emotions. Grant me strength and resilience through hardened skin that promises not, of betrayal.* Cloak of infallibility... *Render me trustworthy and honest. So that I can rest with the knowledge that what I feel is true... What I feel is me. That this isn't the result of the faint murmur of errant gossip... But instead the genuine exchanges between the heart and mind.* Cloak of myth... *Render me a believer. Aid me in finding my footing in the blasted dark. For... I have been siphoned dry, during these unsure times that have drawn much... Too much.* .
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Jun 27, 2016
Jun 27, 2016 at 6:30 PM UTC
Cloak
Sometimes I think myself clever, a genius in horticulture, harvesting perpetual fleeting moments. A muted gardener. Watering without promise or sentiment. When the air grows stale I can disappear (I always have), like so many ghosts or smoke A nomadic farmer. But today I want to be old and knotted roots. stationary and permanent, nourishing and timeless, impervious to elements so that she might flourish. I want to lean hard into the wind, sway with it and bend while holding my only purchase. And when she opens up it will be enough and maybe for the first time neither of us will be murderers of perennials.
0
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 10:13 AM UTC
Leaves
The Stripper When time is of the essence, I await your overdue presence. When you're not here, I'm so alone, ***** how could you lose your phone. I hate not knowing where you are, tonight I'm gonna make your ***** purr. You borrow my car and I get scared, I've already had it twice repaired. Your beauty is unmatched, no other couple is more attached. When you moved in, I was nervous, to any kind of pain, we are impervious. All massages have a happy ending, on Twitter, our love is now trending. You love to cook, I love to clean, I'm always nice, you're always mean. You were a stripper when we first met, I was very rich and you were in debt. I bailed you out from your jam, now I'm in trouble with Uncle Sam. We are broke, but we have each other, soon we'll be out from this cloud cover. Maybe it's time to go back stripping, even though my eyes will be dripping. For a second job, I'll sell drugs, I know plenty of **** and thugs. Now our life is back on track, we will always have each others back. Now you got a new phone and a car, then you ran off with an upcoming rock star. That's the story of my life, so I stabbed that ***** with my knife.
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Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 9:33 PM UTC
The Stripper
Before you check your phone Before you wash your face Before you eat your breakfast Before you resume your sleep Draw open the curtains Embrace each light ray and Run your fingers through the sea Leaking through your windows Stretch open your arms Feel each light ray and Watch it glow as it hits you Drenching you with white Breathe in, breathe out well-- Hoping to inhale one light ray and Engulf your blood with it Running through your veins. When that is done, you are complete. You are brand new, fearless, impervious. For twenty-four hours, when you are cut You will not bleed-- You will shine.
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Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 8:08 AM UTC
Morning Sunshine
People will often say That those who have trouble Letting others in Are "guarded". And maybe that's true In most cases. They wear an emotional Suit of armor And build imaginary walls Around their hearts. I also have trouble Letting people get close. But I would not, In any circumstances, Say that I am "guarded". To call someone "guarded" Insists that they are protected, Safe from harm. That's where the word loses its Relevance to me. I am not protected. Not in the slightest. I wear no suit of armor And have no walls Around my heart. I'm as vulnerable as a baby deer Who's lost it's mother And broke it's leg. I am susceptible To any and all types of injury. I am not safe from harm Or impervious to heartbreak. In fact, I'm fragile. My heart is brittle And will break as easily as glass. I have trouble letting people in, But I am by no means "guarded". I have trouble letting people in Because I am extremely unguarded. I am not protected or safe, But I am evasive. Which is probably The smartest thing to be, For people like me. I run from danger And emotional intimacy Because I know I'm too frail To handle being mistreated Or left alone. After letting myself fall Over and over again, I've learned that love Is not worth the pain It inevitably causes. I am done risking My delicate soul To feel close to someone. At least for now, I don't want to love Or be loved by anyone. For now, I'm still recovering. I'm still learning how to live With myself and without the Infatuation of someone Who will most likely end up Being nothing but a memory. I won't correct you If you call me "guarded". But those who do not wish To be emotionally close Are not always so hardened. Sometimes they're soft And scared of the world around them.
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Jun 10, 2016
Jun 10, 2016 at 11:27 PM UTC
En Garde
People will often say That those who have trouble Letting others in Are "guarded". And maybe that's true In most cases. They wear an emotional Suit of armor And build imaginary walls Around their hearts. I also have trouble Letting people get close. But I would not, In any circumstances, Say that I am "guarded". To call someone "guarded" Insists that they are protected, Safe from harm. That's where the word loses its Relevance to me. I am not protected. Not in the slightest. I wear no suit of armor And have no walls Around my heart. I'm as vulnerable as a baby deer Who's lost it's mother And broke it's leg. I am susceptible To any and all types of injury. I am not safe from harm Or impervious to heartbreak. In fact, I'm fragile. My heart is brittle And will break as easily as glass. I have trouble letting people in, But I am by no means "guarded". I have trouble letting people in Because I am extremely unguarded. I am not protected or safe, But I am evasive. Which is probably The smartest thing to be, For people like me. I run from danger And emotional intimacy Because I know I'm too frail To handle being mistreated Or left alone. After letting myself fall Over and over again, I've learned that love Is not worth the pain It inevitably causes. I am done risking My delicate soul To feel close to someone. At least for now, I don't want to love Or be loved by anyone. For now, I'm still recovering. I'm still learning how to live With myself and without the Infatuation of someone Who will most likely end up Being nothing but a memory. I won't correct you If you call me "guarded". But those who do not wish To be emotionally close Are not always so hardened. Sometimes they're soft And scared of the world around them.
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The cornstalks vanished overnight Shaven fields once flowing, green and gold Like Dad’s evening whisker stubble Ghost limbs of the cornfield Flocks of nomadic Ravens Feast on the invisible And scowl with those empty black eyes Impervious to man’s judgment And I think, There is nothing as beautiful Than the first snow on a barren field Shadows playing with the evening light And dance among the vacant mounds
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Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 6:33 AM UTC
The Cornfield
allow me to breathe in your presence to take in your glory and intellect to swallow whole your allure and charm in this i'll take with me a little piece of you and my sinful lust will be satisfied so i can go a few more hours before i need my self-defeating fix i smoke three packs a day of just your eyes and drink a case solely of your taste your name trickles off my desperate tongue ad nauseam in its crave for your warm broth of love and my heart pumps to the beats of the angelic song that echoes with your glow the streams and rivers of my blood flood collectively into the delta of my mind that can only make out thoughts of where you are when you're not here as they tell my legs to walk and walk until my feet bruise and blister to wherever that may be because that is the place i feel impervious to death and despair the place where the once hollow well that is my soul fills with your crystal clear drips of freedom the place where i feel immortal and i count the seconds as they pass to know that paradise is real
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Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 2:57 PM UTC
You, My Paradise
Grim monarch! see, depriv’d of vital breath, A young physician in the dust of death: Dost thou go on incessant to destroy, Our griefs to double, and lay waste our joy? Enough thou never yet wast known to say, Though millions die, the vassals of thy sway: Nor youth, nor science, not the ties of love, Nor ought on earth thy flinty heart can move. The friend, the spouse from his dire dart to save, In vain we ask the sovereign of the grave. Fair mourner, there see thy lov’d Leonard laid, And o’er him spread the deep impervious shade. Clos’d are his eyes, and heavy fetters keep His senses bound in never-waking sleep, Till time shall cease, till many a starry world Shall fall from heav’n, in dire confusion hurl’d Till nature in her final wreck shall lie, And her last groan shall rend the azure sky: Not, not till then his active soul shall claim His body, a divine immortal frame. But see the softly-stealing tears apace Pursue each other down the mourner’s face; But cease thy tears, bid ev’ry sigh depart, And cast the load of anguish from thine heart: From the cold shell of his great soul arise, And look beyond, thou native of the skies; There fix thy view, where fleeter than the wind Thy Leonard mounts, and leaves the earth behind. Thyself prepare to pass the vale of night To join for ever on the hills of light: To thine embrace this joyful spirit moves To thee, the partner of his earthly loves; He welcomes thee to pleasures more refin’d, And better suited to th’ immortal mind.
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2.2k
To A Lady On The Death Of Her Husband
Grim monarch! see, depriv’d of vital breath, A young physician in the dust of death: Dost thou go on incessant to destroy, Our griefs to double, and lay waste our joy? Enough thou never yet wast known to say, Though millions die, the vassals of thy sway: Nor youth, nor science, not the ties of love, Nor ought on earth thy flinty heart can move. The friend, the spouse from his dire dart to save, In vain we ask the sovereign of the grave. Fair mourner, there see thy lov’d Leonard laid, And o’er him spread the deep impervious shade. Clos’d are his eyes, and heavy fetters keep His senses bound in never-waking sleep, Till time shall cease, till many a starry world Shall fall from heav’n, in dire confusion hurl’d Till nature in her final wreck shall lie, And her last groan shall rend the azure sky: Not, not till then his active soul shall claim His body, a divine immortal frame. But see the softly-stealing tears apace Pursue each other down the mourner’s face; But cease thy tears, bid ev’ry sigh depart, And cast the load of anguish from thine heart: From the cold shell of his great soul arise, And look beyond, thou native of the skies; There fix thy view, where fleeter than the wind Thy Leonard mounts, and leaves the earth behind. Thyself prepare to pass the vale of night To join for ever on the hills of light: To thine embrace this joyful spirit moves To thee, the partner of his earthly loves; He welcomes thee to pleasures more refin’d, And better suited to th’ immortal mind.
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What once was stoic and only showed strength, now slowly sinks and melts... Like a castle of sand on the shore, fending off the teases from the playful waves of the rising tide - but failed. What once was rock... Now submits to forces that meant to erode and break. Pounding, battering and eating into the outer carapace I’ve prided for years. What once was armour I thought impervious and would deflect, now threatens to collapse into itself. Like a weak submersible made for the shallows yet dove too deep, anticipating the impending crush at the end.
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Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 9:49 AM UTC
Crush
Our Love together's awesome in its power, All obstacles must bend before it's might. Our peaceful joy fills our hearts hour by hour, And solves all our misgivings ere they strike. My Love for you's reflected back to me, Your mirror shines heart's brightness to my eyes. We gaze and feed each other's deepest need, Falling in Love more deeply every time. So let the world assault us with its worst, Our partnerships impervious to strife. Together we surrender all that hurts, And in return we radiate Love's light. So come with me my darling butterfly, Let both of us serenely flutter by.
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Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 3:03 PM UTC
Our Love
I tossed and turned my options in the palm of my hand, already knowing the answer I wanted before fate had chosen for me. I over analyzed every word and every gesture like a crazed 13 year old girl. I couldn't help but get worked up over you. It's been awhile since I was ready to open my heart again. I am still so afraid of heartbreak because the pieces are still lying on the floor from six months ago. I've never had to endure rejection before and maybe it's about **** time I wake up and realize that it will happen to me eventually, I am not impervious to love's bittersweet rejection although I'd like to believe I am. All the times we've had have been reeling in my mind, my dreams, my every thought, like a motion picture film. moments we shared that I've never thought twice about until now. Times like the night I sat in your bed and told you all my greatest fears and secrets. You said, "I just don't want him to hurt you." You gave me a crying shoulder and let me fall asleep feeling safe. Times like when we used to joke about getting married and we would laugh because we were best friends but deep down I hoped that someday you might be serious. Sophomore year you found her and I already had him but inside I was jealous. I buried my jealousy and let it go. Times like the past three weeks... I had laid my head on your pillow just like all the nights before but this time you said, "Is it weird if I want to kiss you?" We kissed... A lot. Times like the past three weeks... you kissed me in front of all our friends, or when we were in your car singing some boy band song and you kissed me at the stop sign, we kissed all night. Times like two days ago... I gave it all up, I gave myself to you. You said I was beautiful, you were drunk and you also said you loved my **** Times like last night... you treated me like I was your worst enemy. You flaunted her around me, you held her perfect body just like you had held mine the night before. She left, I was hurt, you were drunk again. I tried to help you and you told me to get the **** out. That was the coldest goodbye as you slammed the door in my face. Times like these past three weeks... I've been sitting here, troubled by your actions. Dreaming about you, terrified of losing you. I haven't heard a word from you since I came home to a different reality two hours away but it feels like decades. Tonight, I tossed and turned the options in the palm of my hand. Should I go for it? Or should I just let it go? Sunday, I'll be trembling, heart pounding when I see your face. I chose what I had hoped fate would tell me to do. Sunday I may face rejection but at least I tried.
0
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 3:47 PM UTC
June 2011
I tossed and turned my options in the palm of my hand, already knowing the answer I wanted before fate had chosen for me. I over analyzed every word and every gesture like a crazed 13 year old girl. I couldn't help but get worked up over you. It's been awhile since I was ready to open my heart again. I am still so afraid of heartbreak because the pieces are still lying on the floor from six months ago. I've never had to endure rejection before and maybe it's about **** time I wake up and realize that it will happen to me eventually, I am not impervious to love's bittersweet rejection although I'd like to believe I am. All the times we've had have been reeling in my mind, my dreams, my every thought, like a motion picture film. moments we shared that I've never thought twice about until now. Times like the night I sat in your bed and told you all my greatest fears and secrets. You said, "I just don't want him to hurt you." You gave me a crying shoulder and let me fall asleep feeling safe. Times like when we used to joke about getting married and we would laugh because we were best friends but deep down I hoped that someday you might be serious. Sophomore year you found her and I already had him but inside I was jealous. I buried my jealousy and let it go. Times like the past three weeks... I had laid my head on your pillow just like all the nights before but this time you said, "Is it weird if I want to kiss you?" We kissed... A lot. Times like the past three weeks... you kissed me in front of all our friends, or when we were in your car singing some boy band song and you kissed me at the stop sign, we kissed all night. Times like two days ago... I gave it all up, I gave myself to you. You said I was beautiful, you were drunk and you also said you loved my **** Times like last night... you treated me like I was your worst enemy. You flaunted her around me, you held her perfect body just like you had held mine the night before. She left, I was hurt, you were drunk again. I tried to help you and you told me to get the **** out. That was the coldest goodbye as you slammed the door in my face. Times like these past three weeks... I've been sitting here, troubled by your actions. Dreaming about you, terrified of losing you. I haven't heard a word from you since I came home to a different reality two hours away but it feels like decades. Tonight, I tossed and turned the options in the palm of my hand. Should I go for it? Or should I just let it go? Sunday, I'll be trembling, heart pounding when I see your face. I chose what I had hoped fate would tell me to do. Sunday I may face rejection but at least I tried.
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