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"inconsiderately" poems
I was born in the spirited sixties, When t.v was there but, the channels were few, The skirts were super short, the boots rather ***** made in crinkly wrinkly patent plastic, The music was loud, so my mother moaned, as usual, The quality was better, The stones were ****** The Beatles were trippie, My mother so serious, was no freakin' hippy, She fed us malt extracted from teaspoons, Okay, from jars really, I remember it tasted pretty vile, But she'd smile, nagging inconsiderately, that we needed to take it, it would do us good! Yuk, I wonder if my brother felt the same, I will never know! (C) Livvi
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May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 2:00 PM UTC
Malt Extract
Yet another frigid November has found this place Inconsiderately crawls from the shadows In a perfect world autumn leaves would fall daily Instead...this shallow frost attacks that gentle sun And everywhere darkness chases out those remnants of life Every year those lonely, barren trees mock me... I'm a wasteland... Nothing can be frightening outside of the tundra The worst passes quickly enough but the good never comes back around Each frosty breath lingers; grows stale to remind us Growth is mere mythology in truth Seasons of change just bring back that despair I wish people could break free of their circles.. Their cyclical "growth"...that quest for relief It doesn't exist... Am I different than yesterday? The wounds within incessantly ache That derelict heart skipped those same beats Burdens of the past bind this soul to the grave Only the foolish allow the ******** Until a point...   I'll call this a dissertation although it's a poem. Days punctuate this essay of the world without meaning Trivial thoughts on humanity or lack thereof. The world's deceit is clear without an ignorant lens.
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Sep 23, 2011
Sep 23, 2011 at 9:48 PM UTC
dissertation...not really...
We are engulfed by loud noise, Perpetual loud noise, The inconsiderate drone of day to day existence, and equally as inconsiderate voices of the loud people, in the loud streets, with their loud lives, and loud schedules, concerned with their loud promises, and loud deadlines, who never stop to listen to the other voices in the loud streets, with their loud cars, and loud crossroads. The loud world in which we live can be tuned out, and it is because of these loud voices, in the loud streets, of this loud world that we are used to ignoring what noise there is. I still wish for silence. However, Within this bottled loud noise is a thunder, You, You being the quiet person you always have been, You are the loudest noise of all. You rip into my skull and rattle my ear drums, You tear needles through my nervous system, and weave through every fibre I possess until my thread comes undone, and I'm a loud, de-tangled, empty shell, in a loud de-tangled full up world. And before I know it, you're back again, You and your loud, loud quiet, and you melt me back together, and I still wish for silence, and you tangle your loudness within mine, and we fill up the bottled noise of this loud world, with it's loud streets, and it's loud people, with loud promises, and loud deadlines, and loud schedules, with their loud lives, with our inconsiderately loud quiet, and finally- It's silent.
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Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 7:38 AM UTC
Loud
i wonder why it's so hard to forget, when that's the one thing in the world i would give anything to do. i wonder what i did, to make you act as cold as you do. My heart no longer functions as it should, whatever pieces are left of it pump endless pain. it circulates it through every vein in my body; its driven me insane now that your gone i see it all, it does nothing but amplify it do you really think i deserve this? and if not, then why do u inconsiderately intensify it? i look back in regret, they all told me you were perfect and i made a mistake. i tried to fix it, but all you did was dangle your heart like bait. i want someone to hurt you, make you die the way i do. but my biggest mistake doesn't justify the hell you've put me through. is it possible to feel so weak, while you're supposedly growing stronger? i want this hurt to end i can't handle it much longer. you may be with her now and your personalities might click but we'll always be each other's first loves no matter where our feelings may sit someday you're gonna look back and have to live with the guilt of what you've done. but the only difference between ours will be, the weight on your conscience won't be able to be undone. and so i sit here and wait for this hurt filled nausea to subside yet even though i hate you, you've never left my mind. and so my biggest fear, now that you've pulled the trigger on the gun; is that if you call in the future, will i fall into your arms or run?
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Jan 27, 2012
Jan 27, 2012 at 12:24 PM UTC
the worry within hurt
Here we go again Or maybe it's just me this time I'm always so anxious Worried Nerve-stricken Constantly afraid of your next move I shouldn't be But I can't help myself "I'm sorry..." Spilling from my mouth Before I have time to think Like I inconsiderately bumped into you Maybe this was a mistake Maybe I am a mistake If that's the case You may as well leave ... Again
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Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 11:07 AM UTC
Again
It's tedious to care for someone as much as I care about you. And I hope that the tiny fragments you planted inside of me will never be so inconsiderately left inside of you too. For the indifference in the beat of my heart and the longing in the depths of my soul will leave a mark indelibly - in me, beyond me.
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Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 1:18 PM UTC
17. Fragments
Though her case was rather heavy, you'd never have guessed by looking at her carry it. Brown leather as I recall. I remember thinking that her maroonish poncho was chosen to complement the case. It was certainly not to cater for the weather. Rain. Something which hadn't been seen for at least four days by then. As you can imagine, she was not the only one who was fashionably unprepared. I myself was fortunate enough to have worn a hat. Men with makeshift newspaper umbrellas cursed as they rumbled by with a diagonal posture of urgency. I suspect they were displeased to say the least. She however,  seemed not to notice the rain. She stood on the platform as drop after drop it danced on her cheeks now red from the cold. She wore no make up from what I could tell. Perhaps a small amount. She was fantastically plain in appearance, not unattractive. But perfectly average. She seemed distracted. I briefly considered engaging in conversation with her but this idea was inconsiderately interrupted by the ever nearing whistle of the train that was due to cart us to Blackpool. Through the wet stripey air I could see the steam-cloud thin out and disappear to the heavens. As it approached she gave one last glance around at which point I made eye contact. She abliged me with a bashful smile and retreated her attention back to the train. Setting her case down by her ankle for the first time since arriving on the platform. She took two steps, larger than her regular gait. and a third that would she her land but inches from the nose of the slowing train. I didn't scream. Or shout. To be honest I didn't know I had seen anything until the police came. Her case was filled with clothes, a hairbrush and a small mirror. I got the next train with everyone else.
0
Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 10:35 PM UTC
Manchester Station 1958
Though her case was rather heavy, you'd never have guessed by looking at her carry it. Brown leather as I recall. I remember thinking that her maroonish poncho was chosen to complement the case. It was certainly not to cater for the weather. Rain. Something which hadn't been seen for at least four days by then. As you can imagine, she was not the only one who was fashionably unprepared. I myself was fortunate enough to have worn a hat. Men with makeshift newspaper umbrellas cursed as they rumbled by with a diagonal posture of urgency. I suspect they were displeased to say the least. She however,  seemed not to notice the rain. She stood on the platform as drop after drop it danced on her cheeks now red from the cold. She wore no make up from what I could tell. Perhaps a small amount. She was fantastically plain in appearance, not unattractive. But perfectly average. She seemed distracted. I briefly considered engaging in conversation with her but this idea was inconsiderately interrupted by the ever nearing whistle of the train that was due to cart us to Blackpool. Through the wet stripey air I could see the steam-cloud thin out and disappear to the heavens. As it approached she gave one last glance around at which point I made eye contact. She abliged me with a bashful smile and retreated her attention back to the train. Setting her case down by her ankle for the first time since arriving on the platform. She took two steps, larger than her regular gait. and a third that would she her land but inches from the nose of the slowing train. I didn't scream. Or shout. To be honest I didn't know I had seen anything until the police came. Her case was filled with clothes, a hairbrush and a small mirror. I got the next train with everyone else.
Continue reading...
4
I almost fell in love but I took it buried it with my pen. Tried to promise to not let it surface again. My brain forced my logic to creep in. I just dived back into paper with pen. I wanted to watch your beauty its like a rainbow. I reminded myself one day it would turn to winter cold ice and snow. You walked by me close enough for me to feel the warm beauty in your shadow. I told myself it wasn't what could comfort my tomorrow. You became my beautiful songful muse. I realized that began to leave me feeling a bit confused. Bubbles forced themselves out from my harmony they sparkled they did rise. To you it was no surprise. Those bubbles left colorful tears in my eyes. I begged mercy to keep away any kind of calamity. Fight away the passions that dazzle to drown me. Trying to break free.. stringed like kisses planted all over me. Trying to break free as you  decided to secrete from me. Advance from the tracks you left all over my body and its memory. Maybe it was all a state of my unnecessary reclines. Now seeing our lengthy messages and unsent replies. Dreaming about weird unsorted things. Recalling bells with no rings. Giving freely inconsiderately of me. Almost I almost walked away from me.. Things deserved that are best for me. I remembered I could cope. Wait on what's good for me, I remembered there's always Hope. By SelinaSharday S.A.M All Rights Reserved 2019
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Aug 14, 2019
Aug 14, 2019 at 11:59 AM UTC
"Cope_ Always keep Hope"
I want no more of these clues left inconsiderately to be found fastidiously like serendipity revealed... I want no more of my own thoughts clawing at me branches of a nightmarish tree from some sleepy-hollow invention due to my own insecurity's deluged reflection... I want no more evenings alone in wild wondering while you're on muscles, mouths a'plundering or if you will fall for someone's skillful *** asunder'ing, writhing like a whirlwind's hovering... I want no more of abscent mornings you leave to place upon my tears-painted face because this reality of our ****** space continues to break my heart's slowing pace. displaced... I want no more of my breath suffocating, clutching my lungs while you make the rounds of a good host lubricating the stiff to placate'ing liberating our ghosts... I want no more my skull confused, diffused with lies echoes of the past and how readily you made me cry yet always do i stay high... I want no more of playdates with internet boys rather be it held between us compose our own manly joys be firm and strong with the choice valiant of voice... I want no more of complicated wishes & words which we hinge on softly speaking like penniless lords retreating the richness of god's open door. seedlings. I want no more your scent on my tongue or your taste that I have sung, over time's widening waste diluting in my lungs... I want no more my soul's slow divorce... I'm effing done. Done with him, of course... 2. Now I will burn hot as the daylight first and only sun... I am here living by no one's rule all I wanted was a lovely word the truth, Now I want no more illusions or lies O how I will keep you and give you back the sky the world the truth is... love is alive just watch how it shines... every day and in these nights, looking toward the light...
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May 16, 2017
May 16, 2017 at 5:13 AM UTC
Want No More (2015)
I want no more of these clues left inconsiderately to be found fastidiously like serendipity revealed... I want no more of my own thoughts clawing at me branches of a nightmarish tree from some sleepy-hollow invention due to my own insecurity's deluged reflection... I want no more evenings alone in wild wondering while you're on muscles, mouths a'plundering or if you will fall for someone's skillful *** asunder'ing, writhing like a whirlwind's hovering... I want no more of abscent mornings you leave to place upon my tears-painted face because this reality of our ****** space continues to break my heart's slowing pace. displaced... I want no more of my breath suffocating, clutching my lungs while you make the rounds of a good host lubricating the stiff to placate'ing liberating our ghosts... I want no more my skull confused, diffused with lies echoes of the past and how readily you made me cry yet always do i stay high... I want no more of playdates with internet boys rather be it held between us compose our own manly joys be firm and strong with the choice valiant of voice... I want no more of complicated wishes & words which we hinge on softly speaking like penniless lords retreating the richness of god's open door. seedlings. I want no more your scent on my tongue or your taste that I have sung, over time's widening waste diluting in my lungs... I want no more my soul's slow divorce... I'm effing done. Done with him, of course... 2. Now I will burn hot as the daylight first and only sun... I am here living by no one's rule all I wanted was a lovely word the truth, Now I want no more illusions or lies O how I will keep you and give you back the sky the world the truth is... love is alive just watch how it shines... every day and in these nights, looking toward the light...
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78
Why don’t you wear your mask Like a proper human being in public Do you care about other people or just your self Why are you so idiotic To Inconsiderately spread your germs And cause more suffering for other people Is it because it doesn’t look good on you It does match your looks What the **** Tell me Why
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Mar 1, 2021
Mar 1, 2021 at 12:45 PM UTC
Why