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Egeria Litha Nov 2014
Nothing can influence
A Man
Stronger
Than a Woman
It's a difference
Through yin
That causes
Yang to become
Whole

It's like the beast
Crawling towards
The beauty
She need not
Use force
Or violence
To get the animal
To draw closer

Her prescence -
A flower
So sweet
Anything with a nose
Wants to inhale

The influence of
A woman
Is a journey inward
Where the flow
Comes in

I could show you where
You begin
Where it begins -
In the formation
Of a wave curling
To form
An infuriating
Break
Soaring through
the wind

She gets him
Contemplative
Her words
Sound like Sanskrit
She knows what he needs
Beyond what his ego
Believes

And maybe gentle
Or crying
Should not be forbidden
The influence of women

A females touch delicious
A Man's counterpart
And producer of souls
The answer to family
The true love gaze
An access to divinity
The missing ingredient
Of the recipe

A Woman's influence
On a man
Is the way the world
Transitions
Here come the formidable rains,
An air of sombreness: it decrees.
With it, bringing--
The tears of the forgotten dead.
Cleansing the earth of our influence.
RBWhite Jul 2018
A woman of truth and commitment,
She would never trust a demon,
Usually she sleeps with company,
But **** itself drags her right down her mind,
So deep that she can't feel anything,
Soon she's bare,
And a demon,Oh she desires,
The heat runs through her lungs,
Sunshine breaks above her head,
And angels sing of love and truth,
Wouldn't it be good,
If she was God's woman still,
In love with Trust,
Eternal to Loyalty,
When children sleep,
And company is alone,
She clings to the memories of the Demon,
Crying from hunger,
No longer satified with pain,
Sleep becames a forgotten promise,
And then she falls again,
What she sees explodes in her life,
A cosmic lover made of sun's flesh,
A dark child with the same hunger as hers,
She becomes The Empress of Doom,
Proudly resting in the Demon's Lair.
Gabriel Bonney Sep 2018
I use to let your care pass by
without a second glance
at the depths of your words.
You asked me how I'm doing,
genuinely and loving,
but I had convinced myself
no one truly cares.
It's just something you say,
I thought,
empathy is obsolete.
But you saw this in me,
I believe,
so you showed me
that you're not okay.
Then you told me
what you say.
And I'm still learning
how to say these words,
even as evil
continues to destroy.
"I choose joy."
One of the teachers at school helps the student leaders out with FCA, and she's really cool, been an inspiration and these words have helped me
In a wakeful contradiction, it lays fact between my fiction,
Tangling subatomics, it unravels as its tricks spin
deeper toward the outward...
                                      it won’t let up, 'til I give in.

Over matter, lay my mind…
I tell a lie to pass the time...
But there’s no reason nor a rhyme --
                                            Less still, a purpose?
I search for something to remind my mind
                     that there’s truth that isn’t worthless…

But as always, failure appears;
                              in a sort-of amnesic continuity.
And my reality lies to my own mind
                              Just as well
                              as it succeeds in its futility.
With destruction as its manifest,
It tells me that I stand my tallest
                              Upon two buckled knees.

And just as faith will find one’s doubt --
                  a search within has left without.
It seems that an answer, once sought out,
                  will be left lacking its question.
My truth divides itself,
                   as a product of infinite misdirection.

I try to substitute a reason for a rhyme.
But with no lies left to pass the time...
                              I swallow a dose of ignorance.
It goes down smoother than the truth.

In a war that started with a truce,
This world betrayed my faith to show me:
                                 that I'm only tall enough
                                 Once I’ve been
                                                         cut
                                                             down
                                                                ­     slowly.

A pill too large to swallow,
                I think I’m choking on myself . . .
Or the irony of asking,
                     “How could I be so careless?”
Here I stand, Barely standing,
                   Consumed almost entirely
By my own dry-heaving self-awareness...

Left to fight the fears that my nightmares create;
I’m still running from my past,
                          yet, haunted by my fate.
They walk beside me always,
                          shadowing wholeheartedly —
Existing as a duality, both apart from,
                         and a part of me.

These ghosts have taught me very little...
                                    Aside from what I hate.
But, I've come to learn not to fear
                                    The forceful hands of fate.
For I shudder not at the thought of destiny,
                                    Or the inevitable in time...
Instead, I fear the eventuality of the choices
That were solely, and entirely, mine.

I fear that my will may be of enough influence, alone...
That fate itself may collapse beneath decisions like my own.
Or that I, myself, might be constructing
What destruction I will find
Among my shattered spirits and convictions,
In these depths to which I climb.

Jay Feb 9
suddenly
everything changed.

we do not play
by the same premise
anymore

you have the power
to start us up
finish us off

i'm meant to follow.
feel.

you categorize me
squeeze me in
reduce me
to this.

give me two options
to be
both equality wrong
because they are not me

and i hate you
forcefully
for this

we do not play
by the same premise
you and i

you are the man
i am the woman

now
we are reduced
to this.
She Writes Jan 9
The remnants of your influence
Echo down the halls of my concience
Long after I slipped away into the night
Here you are still
Whispering that I am not good enough
I cannot make on on my own
Em MacKenzie Feb 1
I listened to all your problems
for years my ear was numb,
I had no input on how to solve them,
but a way out balanced on my thumb.
You inquired of how it felt,
and I was hesitant to describe,
how all troubles seemed to melt
and all the answers were transcribed.

We began with liquid form
as it tends to go down easy,
and for once we were warm,
though our surroundings were freezing.
We grabbed another glass,
and swiped another bottle from the store.
Back and forth our hands would pass,
‘cause that’s what friends are for.

Then I showed you all hues of green,
once it was our favourite colour,
hours spent glued to a T.V screen,
but the image kept growing duller.
It didn’t take us long to grow tired
when you’re always out and burned,
so we searched for a fill to get us wired,
oh all the ways we learned.

Seventeen years we’ve stood together,
starting at a concert’s mosh pit,
we’ve seen seasons change ignoring the weather,
though we sometimes lose touch a bit.
You get the lock and I’ll hit the latch,
together we can go through each door.
If you bring the gas, I’ll strike the match,
‘cause that’s what friends are for.

Finally we discovered nirvana,
the most beautiful of all the sights,
and though you took it to stigmata,
my airways clogged countless days and nights.
Sleep would eventually come peacefully for once,
and until then it was nothing but grins.
We’d converse back and forth with sighs and grunts,
discussing our secret sins.

And while I’ll forever fight that demon,
it seems long ago you stopped trying,
and for the moment I possess my freedom,
cautiously close you are slowly dying.
I didn’t guide you alone but I sure left a mark,
we walked the path together but I picked myself up off the floor.
so I’ll tie your shoes to walk into the dark,
‘cause that’s what friends are for.
I’m not the only one to guide her, but the guilt still eats me alive.
Cacherosi Jan 2017
I have been thinking about you since we have met
Intimidated by your beauty at that time
I was blushing red
A victim of your charming smile
How embarrassing really

Your beauty, in this world, is comparable to the brightness of the Sun, at night to the brightness of the Moon
In mythology, you are like the Phoenix, an eternal beauty, one and only

I have not seen you nor dreamt of you, but you are always in my mind.

They say the men who accumulated great fortunes and success were motivated by the influence of a woman
I am motivated by the influence of you.

When the time comes and if that time comes, I will properly introduce myself
Then, maybe I could ****** your beautiful long black hair with my peasant hands.

Cchi siti d'acqua idda E ju siti d'amuri
*What she thirsts for water I thirst for love
5am thoughts.
Viridian Dec 2018
Last night, you asked me what I was afraid of
And under the stars and the influence of sin
I refused to confess
I was afraid of you
Nat Lipstadt Jun 2018
(from “A Love Song” by William Carlos Williams)

<•>

familiar that apple google and amazon
have me under 24 hour surveillance
e-specially now
as I am in their
geosphere of influence

but sending me a love poem of WCWs that isolates my locale, my intended inebriation status,
and is addressed to me personally (“you”),
that’s just creepy

so charged am I, obligated to oblige,
to counter-compose a love song of mine own,
under the pinot “influence,”
(in a manner of speaking)
which a love taught me to love

what if,
a new love song ecrit,
to an old and loverly land,
a woman-land designed to be desired,
no difference -
kissing a new girl first time,
a wet and unforgettable
compote
when falling
on the neck of your one beloved anew renewed

now I tremble-tread
for the line of great predecessors,
“the land lover scribes”
skilled in natures homaging,
is like a line out the door,
around the corner as if
a new flavor ice cream
has just been isolated and mined and I...
<•>

I,
but a novitiate
in a far away, wild untamed world
where my nature taken by her nature
cannot deny paying my just due:

selvage
late middle English, from self + edge

how perfect!
“an edge,
woven on a fabric during manufacture,
intended to prevent unraveling”

the pacific coast air
the irregular shoreline - expanding/receding,
god’s own forestry reserve,
the cascades, a goal on the horizon,
country roads where ancient wheat stalks grow wild
all a tonic intermingled, an alcohol to
imbibe through mouth nostrils eyes and skin

all will be my own selvage!
preventing the eastern unraveling disease,
a nearly incurable permafrost low grade
kate spaded infection,
brought along with me for decades,
my loon June companion, now stalling out,
lost from my happy head

a vineyard on every corner,
marijuana growing next door,
rivers that change like children growing up and down,
cheek to jowled property line
live the berries and the hazelnut groves,
god’s hay bales wrapped in plastic
like marshmallows dotting the landscape


all daring you to say

I could
love
it  here
A Love Song
William Carlos Williams, 1883 - 1963

I lie here thinking of you:—

the stain of love
is upon the world!
Yellow, yellow, yellow
it eats into the leaves,
smears with saffron
the horned branches that lean
heavily
against a smooth purple sky!
There is no light
only a honey-thick stain
that drips from leaf to leaf
and limb to limb
spoiling the colors
of the whole world—

you far off there under
the wine-red selvage of the west
Listen! With this Pillow I puffed Concern
Perhaps why you chose to part your Circle
Was it for Cause? Or Bull's Influence burn
Tainted your Doors with more it could handle?
Am I part of the List? If so, Speak Out!
So my Investment I'll gladly withdraw
Stop this Drama! Or a Headache you pout
Or else this Prayer I force my Last Straw
Again and again I spoke this before
Never to Judge a Trumpet by its Sound
The Book's outdated; To your ears I bore
Then twist and pull that Stubborn Wax I found.
You know, Tanned Sir, your God gave you a Voice
Which is meant to be used; And used as your choice.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
You've laid in numerous beds,
Stalks sprouted from every one of them,
Endless pedestals of life from where yours bled into them.

There is your final bed,
A place where the flora of your memory shall eternally permeate,
Flowing- unchallenged, into my mind.

And when the resounding influence of you enters,
And I am overwhelmed with you, I shall say:
"Give me your bed, and let me be your vessel!"
manda Jan 9
the last thing
a girl
with that much
confidence
and that much
blonde hair dye
needs
is the influence
of the moon
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