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Rick Warr Oct 2018
i am gloriously indulgent
when left to my own devices
lashings of stylish fulfillment
in a mix of virtues and vices

i have my sense of order
though i am craven to desire
drunk with a sense of beauty
to torch blandness with fire

poor dear mediocrity
your time is not with me
you are my sworn enemy
find others for company

i burn for what is art
and those, who do it for love
they are my choice of company
together, we'll rise above

This is just how I feel.
Tyler Feb 8
The stars' reflections flicker within daring eyes,
The poetics of nature linger within my fleeting guise.

Cigarette lips making me feel like I'm alright,
Begging out the best version of me tonight.

Proudly bringing this moment to it's crisis',
Free in the grasp of golden irises.

Torching the remnants of my minds manuscripts,
Warmer than the feeling I find between your hips.

Forgetting time and just thinking of you and me,
Because by morning I don't know who I'll be.

When I become a prisoner of my own indecision,
And confidence becomes subject to a hundred private derisions.

I'll pry and **** upon words that mean something,
Analyze until they're reduced to sweet nothings.

Meekly **** all traces of nerve and boldness,
Leaving only memory of a temporary indulgence.

That for you will soon hastily forget;
But I will hold as a lovely regret.
Still workshopping this one, any feedback is appreciated!
Hollow Steve Jul 2015
Catapault me into chaos,
I wish to get a little closer.
Your tainted eyes speak to me.
I wish to get to know you,
just a little bit better.

If I can handle it,
I'll stick around and play.
Too much pain is a killjoy.
If it burns too much,
I'll blow out the fire someday.

I'm seduced into your submission.
My identity remains in shambles,
I'll see you on the otherside,
as I walk through this transition.

A possible phase,
or a permanent reside?
I am lost in mindless self indulgence.
If I dance in the rain,
I'll no longer have to hide.

An eternal blue flame,
made of youth and spirit.
Love could only feed the madness.
To remain the same,
is something my mind could never inhabit.

So dance, and dance,
and sing the tunes of duality.
I experiment with composure.
And once I find balance,
my dream will be that much closer
CK Baker Aug 2017
the banners are blowing steady
(fully extended in the hot august wind)
contemporary in style
tightly trimmed
and all gloriously dressed
in the latest colors and hues
it’s a fleeting distraction though
as the caskets
and children
and grieving widows
are rolled steadily across
the burning tarmac

it’s the beginning
of that inevitable
two part proceeding
a skotoma for the ages
delusionary in nature
rich in grays
and eerily reminiscent
of that foreign reign
clipped in silence
with dark roots of fear
set deep in the bowels
of a chapter
of unimaginable sin

indifference as pronounced
as the accompanying salutes
haphazard sentiments that are
cloaked in the horror
of endless
aborted days
forgotten buggies
and bunkers
and rat packs
how could the switch
be set so wrong?

it’s truly an illusion
(this way of the world)
simple indulgence can grow
so beastly and consuming
try telling the tale to the
tibetan monks
or broad peak sherpas
(those boys know how to get it done!)
how to bask in
the ice cold waters
how to savor
the lava hot falls
couldn’t the others
have figured this one out?

the flags have settled
at half mass
and are tinted
in a charred yellow brown
the lifeless dreams
and inspirations now
in the rear view
leif running solo
(exempt of his trusted gunners)
ready for the numbered lines
his eyes open
to the ever changing
enemy at hand
Stephen E Yocum Aug 2018
The older we grow
the faster life goes,
priorities change
quality of living
and loving takes
precedent, over
and material things.
Nothing as important
as family and friends.

It is racing now,
these fleeting days
and years, reflected
most in my grandsons
growing too soon from
children to young men.

Along with Steller parents
our little farm provides
a learning ground for the
kids, teaching life lessons
that inspire character and
self discipline, with Cows
and pigs to show at fairs,
pride earned with accomplishments
and Blue Ribbons to share.

I am so lucky having a ringside
seat, watching yet another
family generation ascend.
Football and basket ball
games to attend, Christmas
morns of excited children
clamoring down the stairs,  
many birthday celebrations
with ever more candles aglow.
Memories all, retained and shared.

Perhaps the best part is,
these grandsons of mine,
still are up for hugs and
good night kisses, genuine
affection received and given.

Families are a true blessing
and a privilege, the only
real reason we are here.

All these things, remain the
sweet frosting on my aging
Grandfather's cake of life.
I sometimes wonder where
I would be without all these,  
my reasons for being?
Dougie Simps Oct 2016
Dear insecure, emotional, overthinking young man

you've came a long way from way back then

you've lost a lot - but had to realize "who hasn't?"

your strong will seemed to be mistaken a lot from your passion

you've missed out on a lot of love by second guessing & never unmasking

why weren't you truly ever satisfied... nah, that's the question that I'm asking...

your abandonment issues pushed away the potential of something ever lasting

constantly fighting the man in the mirror

hopefully with your new life - you see things clearer

no one ever knew, with you...who they were gonna get

you've missed out on a lot of good times wanting to talk

instead of just letting it go and enjoying the time you had left.

Your favorite pills were self pity, self indulgence, ignorance and regret

you never stopped to listen - stopped talking - hopefully now you allow others words to be said

no woman stood a chance... you purposely acted a certain way to avoid the possibility of true love

discretely pushing them away until they saw nothing and had enough.

don't get me started on your lack of living

missed out on a lot of trips, chances and opportunities

I hope now you've filled that void that is missing

you swore happiness was wealth... power...a line of respect

little did you know it was the little things; the calm, the moments
the people and things in life worth it and willing to invest.

you gave up on a few dreams... figured why fight?

countless times your mind would just run... keep you up all night

you were so afraid of success... honestly, I never knew why

you never freed that little boy trapped - stuck in his father's grasp

he was begging for freedom, you left him struck inside

everyday was another day you thought was your time.

I hope you live now

I hope you see the beauty life truly is

I hope you found love

I hope you found this

I needed to write this letter to you - so you can see how far you have come

you can see that change is real

you can see all that you have become

Bland Douglas Simpkins,

that's the man you should be proud to be

no matter what challenges you were faced with

those obstacles were needed, needed to make it to this me

thank those who've came into your life - not all were meant to last

some forced you left - others showed you right

no matter what, some were needed in your past.


Dear future self,

please understand - I'm sorry. For all that I put you through

the truth remains - that without me - just know...

there would be no you.
to the future
Sara Sep 2018
Mac Miller died yesterday
That’s the third artist to die under the age of 27 in the last 12 months.
What good is learning the ways of the world if you’re going to die at any minute?

Each artist had a way about them.
They all spoke something of intellectual awareness.
It worries me that these people who reached a level of artistic and human understanding,
Destinations that I aspire to reach,
**** themselves by indulgence of drugs.

Why do we still indulge in drugs when we’ve reached a point regarded as a peak?
Kris Apr 2015
Tip one: everyone has problems, exploit that.
The main ones are money, love, death, and existential crisis;
it’s better to write about the former two because the other two…
well, they are the things that people are trying to forget
when they read about the trivial parts of their lives
in the cleverly-phrased lines of your horoscope.
So cater to their needs and help them escape for a moment
through the frivolous indulgence of your vague predictions.

Which leads to tip two: keep it vague.
No one cares about the details. Horoscopes are like Mad Libs:
you give them the starters and they fill in the blanks
with their personal lives and experiences.
Horoscopes should be empty boxes that people pack
with the cluttered thoughts in their head to make room,
to lighten the load up there in their minds.

And this treads on the territory of tip three: white lies.
Clear out all the anxieties, the mind needs the extra space
because that thing called hope? Yeah, it’s kind of claustrophobic.
It needs all that room to be comfortable. If the mind is filled with anxieties
that hang around like that roommate’s friend who’s always over
hope will check out. For good. So by the last line you better have them
picturing their perfect life that will unexpectedly fall into their laps
once they are, “receptive to the idea of changes to come.”

Your horoscope should be a cathartic, spiritual (albeit cheap) experience;
people want to hear that the stars are conspiring to bring them good luck
and the perfect lover. A piece of sincerity among lies and half-humor.
This is the formula for the perfect horoscope.
Bending the benevolence
Into a lucid sky of white,
An indulgence of an
Evocatively colourful odessy.
My dearest mother
Of the muse,
A whispering sea
Of beckoning delicacy.
Divulging enriching
Secrets of the tides.
Majestic sands of salty
Caramel delight,
Unravelling the enigmatic
Solitude of time.
Grains of meandering
Emancipating the mind
From the burden
Of the distortive rhythm,
And into the truest dream
Of night,
Where the spirit chimes solely
Into awakened starlight.
The depth of the expression is more than the words; I kept stating write poem that way.
Her silence speaks; as I have seen somewhere
Some corridor
Some place to teach

It is a profession with the natural calibre
Walls get built
But not the meet
She did not say, but I read in her smile
As if it is the first love; waiting to meet

Dr Baljit Singh
Wednesday, 24th April 2019
Khoi-San Oct 2018
Slipping on her cold blood
Indulgence uncorked
Champagne laced with poison ivy
Euphoria unfolded lapping up
The leftovers of another man's bliss
He got caught in the fish net stockings
Of a poledancer thinking
How the he'll did I miss that
The girl had ***** and a ten inch
Tied to a crack in her back pocket
You might just end up in the
Twilight nozone lol
I had become what most yearn for.
Anyone can want what they truly do not understand .

You never know you like something until you finally get a taste for what it truly is .

My plate is full these days .
Every line has a direction and it becomes more mechanical by the second.

People laugh at me less .
Some envy .

Fools often hate what they themselves could never do.

They think what I forged in fire somehow was handed from the Heavens.

The tattered edges now refined .
It took a toxic environment and a lust for its release.

I didn't cheat my self indulgence .
But I **** sure scammed myself about happiness.

I worked for this plain and simple.

I stayed around till I had proven a fluke is one thing I wasn't.

If your waiting for a encore .
You have to let me finish first .
Beings only hide from the truth
Truth never hides
Waves hit the earth nearly the same time the winds do
As above so below
Ancient times with new lines
No shadows can discriminate what’s light in a fulfilled dimension
It’s only overwhelmed by the pure blinding consciousness to dissipate before it even entered and cast
The necessity of distinction has always been in
finite and limited creations we be within the cube my friend
Lest we seek transcendent wisdom
This will only be and our memories will be lost
Nothing is permanent however
Even if at times it seems otherwise
Experience is the hand that I acknowledge as my support
Being lost is not always so bad, neither is being alone
Getting lost is how we are always found
The original
The indestructible
The evolution of the immortal
Dennis Ayzin May 16
In moment wonderous of wisdom
Or life’s eternity indulgence
I freed myself,
                at last, from prison
Unchained my soul,
                and fled the dungeon
Sachin Subedi Dec 2018
One with sensation
One with feeling
One with conscience
One with tears
The cry soars to the horizon
They are killing
They are slaughtering
They are breeding
They are feeding

They need the flesh
To digest into ****
The cruelty within
The merciless beyond
The ignorance under
The indulgence upon
The assassin
The mass ******
Slaughter and evil
A call of an animal
A call of a voiceless
But a denial
A denial of the human race
Slaughter for an idea
A pitiful act
Denial of existence

Today I am going vegan
Dripped in emotion
Dripped in sensation
Dripped in acknowledgement
Dripped in the knowing
The knowing of evolution
The evolution of life
Of the voiceless
The voiceless with life
The mercy to be shown
But merciless around
The acknowledgement within
Today i am going vegan

Vegan I am
For the voice of the voiceless
The nature of existence
For the truth of the tears
The cry and the pain
The cruelty for an idea
For the civilization of the civilized
For the life as a gift it is
For respect of life
The life only, within and beyond
From now on
I am a vegan

The love for life
The truth of the divine
The truth of nature
The intelligence of human
The sensation and sight
The pain and cry
The idea to breed
The idea to ****
The idea to feed
Disrespect of nature
The ignorance
To crawl over and over
The idea of indulsion
The idea of false victory
The idea of superiority
The idea of amusement
The idea of carnival
The idea of the not alive
But idea of the dead

The alive if one
Ought to respect life itself
Turn the fire of warmth
Find the well being
With the sense of compassion
For sure fill the belly
And only with leafy greens
Yes yes yes
Nature made us as plant eaters

Think and acknowledge for yourselves
Our body is not that of a carnivore
We are not natural meat eaters
Don't have teeth of carnivore
Don't have digestion as a carnivore
A body for the plant based diet
So its natural and without a glitch
To eat leafy greens

Killing animals for an idea
Killing animals for the sake of food supply
Evil it is
Not a effort to manage food
No no no
It is a scam
Breeding animals
For the sole purpose
Of killing for feeding
Feeding the indulging ones
Feeding for amusement
Feeding for anything more than survival
Except the sole purpose
Of survival and existence
Is an evil in itself

Realized now
Realized yesterday
Realized to the haze
And through maze to eternity
Realization strikes
A light bolt
The light fills the dark
Vegan now on
joy Oct 2018
its weird. i never thought id miss it.

the feeling of your lips on mine, the feeling of skin against skin against the cold concrete floor

i never thought id miss the sound of your voice calling out to me or the way your eyes never failed to meet mine

id never thought id miss the dirtiness of it all, the hidden marks you left on my skin and the half turned smiles we shared

i knew i would think about our conversations late into the night, our shared geekiness for the same things

but i never thought id miss it.

best friends with benefits. it was only meant to be temporary but i wanted it to last forever. best friends with benefits. almost yours but not quite. best friends with benefits. i never knew where the benefits ended and where self indulgence began.
i only did it for u but now its gone and i actually miss it
She's this insatiable urge
gaining on me,
like a herd of horses
galloping in the treachery of the wild,
their muscles brushed to a shine
rippling down their calves
to embrace the ground
beneath their ironed hooves
shaking it up, tormenting its calm,
whipping up tremors
that know no chains and travel far.

When she's around
dust and sweat break free
with muscles aching in symphony
the heart is all worked up
like a boiler room in heat
pummeling all of its adrenaline
in one fleeting indulgence
which the universe with all its hatcheries
is itching to contain
before the raging tides in
and floods my world.

She's the elusive horizon
used to passionate chases
and the sly azure lunging at it
for one sweet glimpse of the cleavage where it conjoins with the earth
looking for Elysium that never is.
Ah! But that is what it is
for the tamed to think of love
is an impossibility
for it grows in the wild
separated by a hundred chasms
and a million mazes
waiting for a fool to cross over.

When she isn't around
the rumpled sheets tell our story
for it has seen the storms
that raged in the cavernous nights
and filled up balmy noons
with the savagery of love
still crackling like embers of fire
which have seen better days,
and, light up still, with a death wish
to tell of our smouldering lives
that thrived in spasms of our last breath.
Relax, begin to Imagine you are in the proximity
to immerse yourself into a precious moment.
It is that needed time you have brought into being, and is intrinsic
to experience composure, equanimity.
Smooth - melodic - ambient music with simple cause,
low and soft will, in its incipiency invalidate
trending previous troublesome thoughts,
silkily, sauntering, lingeringly pauses,
to softly embrace your audible senses
with silence which conveys complete assurance,
that the here and now is yours, no-one elses,
ataraxia created by you, for your true inner self,
It continues; envelops remaining unsettled interruption
embraces the heart, and encourages serenity,
all the remaining negative, solicitous intellection
are temporarily, tipped out of your consciousness,
you are experiencing them leave, then transcended
with blissful tranquillity for your indulgence.
You are asleep with your eyes open, it feels so benefic,
the mind is calm and clear no longer confused.
Melodious sound continues to provide atmospheric
momentum to this sensibility folding into the soul.
Joyfully you are enduring moments of pure inner solitude and
wrapped in perfect peace, consciousness uncommitted.
There is no expectation of time, not at all
just the psyche drifting, changing shape, density, profundity.
You feel wonderfully restituted, calmed; uplifted.
You sense it, knowing, this absence of tension you sought,
this, your perfect you, is transient and will slowly begin to regress, reluctantly,
relinquishing this blissfully serene, conditioned emotional stillness, to be restored.

Then you turn the telly on!     All gone.

Michael C Crowder        March 5th 2019
the power of clearing one's mind, so reality erases the experiences
Brielle Bishop Jul 2018
7.24.18 //
Rambling on
Curious what lies on the end of my fingertips
Through the thicket of smoke
Surely I’ll quit one day
Providing clear lungs for the both of us
But never giving them a break
A high functioning mind
Working simultaneously with my vocal cords
Is it indulgence?
Despite the way you hang on every word
Finding comfort in how vowels and syllables
Drip from my tongue
Not quite eloquent, but informative

Shadows skirt across the walls
Of bodies too familiar
“I love your skin with mine”
As it should have been like this years ago
Intertwined as if this was the last moment
Tracing the outline of your jaw
In the early hours
Hoping I can buy enough time
To memorize every feature
These moments I hold onto
Mind reeling
At the possibilities
Of you and I
Staying five steps ahead
While daydreaming
Of the empty chair beside me
Permanently filled

Maybe it’s the way your eyes possess a Kindness I’ve never known
Despite the pain of colliding teeth
Smiles crashing into one another
A slow dance in the kitchen
A dimly lit room
Occupied by your voice
The echoes of short stories
Intrigued until I drift off
Soft grips or movements
Begging you to never put this to rest
Wandering through the past lives
Of strangers
Hand in hand
One door to the next
Reminding me how fragile items can be
And how precious this time is together
Fine bindings and their smell hanging in the air
The flashing of lights
Lyrics resonating
An adoring smile
Propositions of all the memories we will build

So we’ll lace up our shoes
“One foot in front of the other,
Through leaves,
Over bridges”
No longer backwards
Strides in opposite directions
Do not exist
For I am trying my best to keep up
In order to express how I love you so.
right now
sacrifice is fueling opportunity
an opportunity to breathe
with an uninterrupted purpose
the corruption of our native soul
stop nourishing it
by constructing whiteness
sacrificing ethnicity
for the temporal indulgence
adrenaline *****
intensity of dissociation
hallucinating whiteness
the worst drug ever manufactured
forced upon our children
intricate delicate
vulnerable violence
dissociating from an eternity
of survival of the most cooperative
for a moment
momentum of ******
k o t s o t u Sep 2018
she writes her most meaningful poetry
as a result of how he hurt her
so deeply, and regretfully so
that these are the conditions
inspiration requires of her
she reads them back from the time
when she still loved him
with nothing short of embarrassment
mixed with vengeance, a sprinkle of reminiscence
a recipe for resistance

he doesn’t know about the talent
she dedicates to him
somewhere he’s finding another girl to betray
or mistaking indulgence for happiness
she wishes it for him if he can find it
but doesn’t regret if it’s a miss
he doesn’t know how lucky he is
she wonders how many girls
are dreaming of his kiss
do they also write about him like this?
Pupils dilate
Heart palpitates
As my skin grazes yours
Stomach flutters
With every word you utter
As you come walking through my door
Intentions pure
Both of us floored
Your eyes sincere
With a body so revered
Thoughts so adulterated
Lustful and Saturated
Lips quivering
Goosebumps shivering
As I meticulously trace the lines
Of your collar bone, so divine
Devotion to this desire
Impatient indulgence feeding the fire
Framework consumed
By the pull of the moon
Madly muttering
High pitched stuttering
Hymns of fervor
Neighbors confuse with ****** ******
Raising my hand to your mouth
As I progress further down south
Learning your secrets
You tell me no lies
Never want to leave this
Echo of space and time
Pouring every ounce of my soul
Into watching you unfold
Blossoming effortlessly
Before my very eyes
I become hypnotized
Intoxicated by your scent
Following through with every intent
Injecting your body with no need to repent
Yielding to my advances
Here’s to second chances
This is our moment
So we might as well own it
Bet the bank on each other
Discovering my soulmate
My best friend
My lover
Keyan R Oct 2018
How could I have been so close
Yet so far away
The gap in the distance is more intense than I'd actually like to say
It feels like almost yesterday, where the smiles or frowns that came around
Never settling in the crest we call a "face"
It wasn't as fake as it was now
The warmth of your smile turned the mood around
Even if it was disappointing I couldn't help but try a bit harder for the sake of being friends
Cause that's what they do, staying true,
yes true
Not saying I've caught them in a lie
It just feels a little blue, on the other side
I wish I could hold your hand, just to adore
This, space that we once had
It's not the same years later and I know things have changed
Again this isn't a plead for help
Just my old thoughts into an expression
Takes it like the old way of written out confessions
If I had to be convicted Id be in for a long sentence
Like the, I broke a promise and left without saying a word,
Sad how we make it seem like it was the another's fault that we're this way...
Though in the end, it was selfish actions... selfish actions...selfish actions...and self-indulgence
That pushed the gap and broke the space apart
Id like to say sorry as a start in the right way
Though I don't think that would mend the nasty tear that's been every slowly gashing
We've been on the rocks thrashing about in a glass cup smashing with fruit juice and *****
I remember the sweet cheers of that kiss and the hard rocks on the bed
I understand it, I do
I lived in the misery of your happiness that shined through
I wanted to use your opening and vent without considering what your feelings meant
That this was a special event, and I wasn't just getting experience but giving it too
Where sweet words never left the heart
Where promises were meant to last
I formally apologize,
I can't take it away for what has happened
But I'll keep moving forward regardless of forgiveness
I don't expect to walk back into a life that I created so many problems for
And I understand completely if these words cannot pierce through like a sword
It's no point that way
I hurt someone close to me. I didn't consider their feelings after being so close. And it cost me a lot.
Homunculus Mar 3
by dint of lucky birth
by way of early learning,
the boy's body grows,
but his mind does not, and
with all things merely
he himself is
to taking
all desired things
a second thought

in action, manner, and style
his brash displays of excess
appear to him
congenial acts of
tempered moderation

his slavish hedonism,
blinds him to the
folly of his ways,
like a child with an
insatiable sweet tooth
and the keys to a candy shop

he peruses the town
in ritualistic fashion
night after night,
sowing seeds of  
licentious desire
which bloom
into Devil's Trumpets
of debauched

one drink
then another
one line
then another
one pill
then another
one conquest
then another

attained in
rapid succession
pursued with
reckless abandon

in a different bed
each afternoon
sun beams
piercing the blinds
stinging his weary eyes

his temples throbbing
his vision spinning
his stomach churning
his desire remaining
the void within him imploring:

but soon

he discovers his
well of fortune
has finally run dry
the repressed knowledge
of this inevitability
descends upon him
like a Biblical plague

his cards decline
his key refuses to
open its door and
the doors of his conquests
slam in his face

and so

the destitute rake
stumbles pitifully
without aim

with body aching
with knees weakened
with ears ringing
with hands trembling
with vision blurred
with fear and doubt
mocking his every step

the concrete corridors
once so exuberant
now appear to him as
moribund and desolate
graveyards for the senses

the neon banshees
which once broadcast their
sultry siren songs
like choirs of cherubs
heavenly and divine
now sound to him
like the tortured screams
of the ******
rising up
to haunt his dreams

the emptiness remains
echoing his every
tortured thought:

"who am I?"
"what have I become?"
"why am I here?"
"what was it all for?"

awash in the tumult
of the dark night of the soul,
the handsome stranger's limbs
give out from beneath him, and
his mind collapses into deep
and dreamless sleep
countenance mimics
the final embrace
of death

For him,
they are one in the same,
and of deaths,
this will be the first
of many
for he has
but yet begun
to learn.
What fate will await him
when he next awakens?
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