Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"insignia" poems
Now I ask you to join me Now you celebrate Not being me. Not being you Only Us for the great UN load! DIS arm! EN large! OUT side! Some steps I will take Be my guest Pull your anchor Out of the lake We're In the room In the building In the crowded city In the country with thousands of cities The country shares the continent with an enemy nation The two rivals are carried round and round by the Earth's endless rotation The Earth obeys the master’s magnetic line, burning since uncountable clock time The sun is blind to his insignificance too, ignoring billions of other star mates, it can’t see through Immeasurable it seems, magnifying! All of them such tiny little parts in one of Miss Milky’s arms Some light years away there they are: Pinwheel, Cartwheel, Black Eye, Andromeda and Cigar Unmeasurable it seems, humongous! All of them such a fading little part of the cosmos There you are Floating from a distance Feel the empty ground Drink from the fountain of existence Still blind to insignificance? Still convinced about the rightness of imposed beliefs? Still judging others’ defects according to our pretentious and vain mind? Still punching away the different, protecting the mold? Still reinforcing illusory antagonism and insignia? Still seeing only two sides? Still holding to the pride? Still In the ******* room Am I? Are you? Let's try it again
0
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 5:21 PM UTC
Ego deconstruction
O tower of light, sad beauty that magnified necklaces and statues in the sea, calcareous eye, insignia of the vast waters, cry of the mourning petrel, tooth of the sea, wife of the Oceanian wind, O separate rose from the long stem of the trampled bush that the depths, converted into archipelago, O natural star, green diadem, alone in your lonesome dynasty, still unattainable, elusive, desolate like one drop, like one grape, like the sea.
0
12.8k
Tower Of Light
Give him a skinhead, insignia, boots Less scruples, a swagger-stick, crowds, money. No black shirts visible. Just business suits, and pride is restored: tragic but funny. Proud like a skyscraper, godless as sin Babylonian promises, towering lies Reality shows when plutocrats win, Their rhetoric raining from empty skies. She-wolves, elected by uninformed sheep behave predictably, eyeing the flock Their wool (and the lamb-chops) are hers to keep Grazing voter—this should come as no shock. It’s a bitter pill (more like pilloried) So shall we now be ******* or Hillary-ed?
0
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 8:59 PM UTC
Dual Airbags
Your fingerprints are embossed on my heart Forever to be known to my soul Your insignia, your mark,  is placed in art Never to tarnish or grow old A slightly raised indention of your spirit Your mark upon my heart Emblazoned by the hand of love A masterpiece of art My heart will always bear your prints As a reminder of what’s true The place you’ve left your mark of love Belongs only to you
0
May 15, 2010
May 15, 2010 at 9:31 PM UTC
Fingerprints
resuming vogon poetry altering website logos pretending everyone cares playing "east hastings" asphyxiating well-nigh denouement depicting twitter status obfuscating coincident deletions translating from Sḵwx̱wú7mesh assuring Sḵwx̱wú7mesh exists painting skwiḵw's mother? decrying micropolitical maelstrom imbibing fireball fountain inundating lexical foofaraw crafting poetic wonders desiring other mediums remaining practically invisible ending internet-only depression drafting noetic blunders requesting astute clique blazing perilous trail aging ominous grisaille depicting kmart realism seeking darker groups increasing pre-weekend laughter appropriating communist symbols making lone chuckle offending worldwide communists colonizing hello poetry colonizing parallel universe relaxing e-migration policies пить чистую водку photographing abduction scene ¿losing consistent format? increasing bluebird insignia avoiding frivolous legalities striking astraphobic comments assuming near-universal automation lowering latent inhibition traversing oneiric plane laxwadding afebrile loodies wallscaping pitchsourced chthonicities closing one-star conveniences sharing alien-looking alphabet writing system downtimes
0
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 7:42 PM UTC
201509-w1
Hold my heart for ransom In exchange for your sweet whispers Kisses and sighs in tandem Along with moonlit midnight capers Take my heart as hostage A willing one it would be Deep within its bony cage Working up into a frenzy Hold my heart at knifepoint Incised upon I've already bled Over cracked notions and disjoints Chasing after hope that hasn't fled Brand my heart with your seal Press into and make your mark Folded within is all I feel Behind your insignia so stark Choose my heart for blackmail Ask of me whatever Hope to accomplish without fail Hopes of us do not sever Play my heart like a toy Adore me and hold me tight Handle me with child-like joy Share with me, squeals of delight Mould my heart of clay Wrap your fingers, twirl me round Make me worthy of another day To celebrate your sight and sound Lace my heart and tug at it Pull me closer so I could be near Bind me tight so I would fit Coveted spot beside you, dear Enslave my heart on all fours Lead me through your universe Close behind us, lock all doors Subject me to love's greatest murmurs Place my heart next to yours Let me be enamoured to the brink In due time, and on laboured course Perhaps we would finally beat in sync
0
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 8:27 AM UTC
In Sync
I'm  a bit like Brett I like my beer,  Senator Feinstein, Ha. Your name has stein in it, thats  like a beer mug, i dont have blackouts from beer drinking. It's the lack of that makes me forget. I don't remember much of this morning. Went to work got some **** done, I Don't think I molested any women, But it's all foggy. I remember going into DG after work. They got 15 packs for 6.95. Cept I vaguely recall creeping out. They were Out. Until i found three of them white boxes with red and blue lettering an A With wings insignia I'd  tucked in A corner of the store behind cases of Heinekens, out of my league drink, For just this situation. ******* patriotic Almost. I think it's doing my part to support this free-market capitalistic Economy. Like paying taxes. Better than voting. So you all can impune Kavanaughs Character all you want. I like beer so do he. So. Back to me. I couldn't wait for one. I'd put six in the freezer. And it had been ten minutes. I drank it lukewarm. And my memory came back. The fog cleared. Oh yeah, his problem Isn't that he loves beer Like I  do, it's that he was a punk upper class white dude who Pushed around young girls, laughed while he felt them up, Thought he was entitled to. That's over the line, even for Republicans. You are not like my justice. I am a justice of peace and integrity. Go drink beer, BRETT, JUST NOT ON THE SUPREME COURT.
0
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 6:20 PM UTC
I like beer, too
Drawstring linen pants, Unisex from a women's catalogue. Dark green shirt, tomboy approved. Enough makeup to hide my faults. Pink heart earrings, and a silver cross in the 3rd hole. A silver cross, trans emblem and a silver heart engraved Laura, my true identity, together on a black bead chain. Silver Lesbian insignia ring with my wedding band on top. A black 1st finger ring etched with the Lord's prayer. 2 bracelets, one orange one turquoise to match a turquoise hat and dark glasses. A couple of mists of Acqua di Gioia. Women's turquoise/orange runners, And a Victoria's secret backpack. I didn't really think about the details until evening, All I knew is I felt comfortable today. I even went to Kohl's department store alone and browsed, and felt a confidence I'd rarely felt in the past. Is this how some people feel every day I wonder? I was so grateful for just today, just one day. Today I was me by Lj Mark 2015
0
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 12:54 AM UTC
Today i was me
A famous ship that set sailed The name “Titanic” a cruise liner marked for preserver, but something down the line failed The Titanic made it’s way over the seas Yet on the deck the passengers were treated to an endless breeze As the music played an elegant melody The feeling of majestic royalty within red carpet hospitality This was the first of the Titanic voyage History in the making for sure But will the Titanic reach destined shore? A final night that everyone narrates and regrets As the doomed cruise liner continued on the waves Disaster struck with thoughts on did the waves behave Panic was among the travelling passengers The passengers being distinguished in the category of who’s who There was a special passenger and I will give you a clue The insignia of R.H. I didn’t give the last name as I am trying to see if you figured out what R.H. stands for You will be surprised in galore The passenger was Rowland Hussey Macy The name associates with MACY’S DEPARTMENT STORE A store you probably shop today But Mr. Macy perished on board the ship “Titanic” Yet he was a man of the seas by way of Merchant ****** from Nantucket But the Titanic was constructed to be unsinkable However the situation does make one think as what really happened on the Titanic? A mystery of the seven seas Let your mind wander but feel at ease All the passengers perished, and their soul’s went to thee.
0
Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 5:57 PM UTC
SEA LANES
We watched the sun fall down and scrape its knee again, across the horizon. Effusing amaranth, carmine, and cochineal across polluted vista. It felt petty to issue guttural laughs, or engage the myofacial crescents beneath its visual lament as the Earth turned its back again. We watched the sun rise, bruised, tender and shy this morning. Its muddled contusion obviated by the gauze of fog. A mottled neophyte - Luminescent crepuscular rays defied dregs of interstellar debris and cloud. Aching to kiss your skin - In stellar cloud nursery, it eschewed the torque of orbit and gravity - eras before verity of your essence. Humbly settling concentrically about oblate sphere, and gaseous tome. Latterly - It altered the atmospheric pressure on the other side of the planet a week antecedently, as you clung to your dream lattice, and Earth innately turned oblate nucleus. Its intent – A veneration of you. It bade the atmosphere convey a breeze echoing about your dermis, as it gilded your frame laconically, betwixt shaded steps beneath cloud and arbor. The sun yelled at me at its pinnacle today, Pallid bone – molten - miasma of rage Its core missive garnered inertia – coronal plasma warping ellipsoid factions in inflections of elusive filigree Pirouetting spicules spattered smelted torrents in the dismal anchorite Atomic schism – silent but felt It stoked humidity under shadowed niche - casual vaporous smears evinced no clemency. Flesh torqued, and seized beneath itself, briny globules shed from puckered pore. Culminations of sensitive fluid sacs scorched into the shallows of my chassis. Insignia knit in cellular shrapnel The sun ignored me today – or perhaps, it was I it. Enigmatic tenacious resolution – an echo of its gravitational collapse Inverse thermonuclear fusion It is not fear in a relationship that keeps you apart, it is neglect of the infinitesimal.
0
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 9:13 PM UTC
Heliophilia
We watched the sun fall down and scrape its knee again, across the horizon. Effusing amaranth, carmine, and cochineal across polluted vista. It felt petty to issue guttural laughs, or engage the myofacial crescents beneath its visual lament as the Earth turned its back again. We watched the sun rise, bruised, tender and shy this morning. Its muddled contusion obviated by the gauze of fog. A mottled neophyte - Luminescent crepuscular rays defied dregs of interstellar debris and cloud. Aching to kiss your skin - In stellar cloud nursery, it eschewed the torque of orbit and gravity - eras before verity of your essence. Humbly settling concentrically about oblate sphere, and gaseous tome. Latterly - It altered the atmospheric pressure on the other side of the planet a week antecedently, as you clung to your dream lattice, and Earth innately turned oblate nucleus. Its intent – A veneration of you. It bade the atmosphere convey a breeze echoing about your dermis, as it gilded your frame laconically, betwixt shaded steps beneath cloud and arbor. The sun yelled at me at its pinnacle today, Pallid bone – molten - miasma of rage Its core missive garnered inertia – coronal plasma warping ellipsoid factions in inflections of elusive filigree Pirouetting spicules spattered smelted torrents in the dismal anchorite Atomic schism – silent but felt It stoked humidity under shadowed niche - casual vaporous smears evinced no clemency. Flesh torqued, and seized beneath itself, briny globules shed from puckered pore. Culminations of sensitive fluid sacs scorched into the shallows of my chassis. Insignia knit in cellular shrapnel The sun ignored me today – or perhaps, it was I it. Enigmatic tenacious resolution – an echo of its gravitational collapse Inverse thermonuclear fusion It is not fear in a relationship that keeps you apart, it is neglect of the infinitesimal.
Continue reading...
27
Los animales fueron imperfectos, largos de cola, tristes de cabeza. Poco a poco se fueron componiendo, haciéndose paisaje, adquiriendo lunares, gracia, vuelo. El gato, sólo el gato apareció completo y orgulloso: nació completamente terminado, camina solo y sabe lo que quiere. El hombre quiere ser pescado y pájaro, la serpiente quisiera tener alas, el perro es un *** desorientado, el ingeniero quiere ser poeta, la mosca estudia para golondrina, el poeta trata de imitar la mosca, pero el gato quiere ser sólo gato y todo gato es gato desde bigote a cola, desde presentimiento a rata viva, desde la noche hasta sus ojos de oro. No hay unidad como él, no tienen la luna ni la flor tal contextura: es una sola cosa como el sol o el topacio, y la elástica línea en su contorno firme y sutil es como la línea de la proa de una nave. Sus ojos amarillos dejaron una sola ranura para echar las monedas de la noche. Oh pequeño emperador sin orbe, conquistador sin patria, mínimo tigre de salón, nupcial sultán del cielo de las tejas eróticas, el viento del amor en la intemperie reclamas cuando pasas y posas cuatro pies delicados en el suelo, oliendo, desconfiando de todo lo terrestre, porque todo es inmundo para el inmaculado pie del gato. Oh fiera independiente de la casa, arrogante vestigio de la noche, perezoso, gimnástico y ajeno, profundísimo gato, policía secreta de las habitaciones, insignia de un desaparecido terciopelo, seguramente no hay enigma en tu manera, tal vez no eres misterio, todo el mundo te sabe y perteneces al habitante menos misterioso, tal vez todos lo creen, todos se creen dueños, propietarios, tíos de gatos, compañeros, colegas, discípulos o amigos de su gato. Yo no. Yo no suscribo. Yo no conozco al gato. Todo lo sé, la vida y su archipiélago el mar y la ciudad incalculable, la botánica, el gineceo con sus extravíos, el por y el menos de la matemática, los embudos volcánicos del mundo, la cáscara irreal del cocodrilo, la bondad ignorada del bombero, el atavismo azul del sacerdote, pero no puedo descifrar un gato. Mi razón resbaló en su indiferencia, sus ojos tienen números de oro.
0
2.5k
Oda al gato
Los animales fueron imperfectos, largos de cola, tristes de cabeza. Poco a poco se fueron componiendo, haciéndose paisaje, adquiriendo lunares, gracia, vuelo. El gato, sólo el gato apareció completo y orgulloso: nació completamente terminado, camina solo y sabe lo que quiere. El hombre quiere ser pescado y pájaro, la serpiente quisiera tener alas, el perro es un *** desorientado, el ingeniero quiere ser poeta, la mosca estudia para golondrina, el poeta trata de imitar la mosca, pero el gato quiere ser sólo gato y todo gato es gato desde bigote a cola, desde presentimiento a rata viva, desde la noche hasta sus ojos de oro. No hay unidad como él, no tienen la luna ni la flor tal contextura: es una sola cosa como el sol o el topacio, y la elástica línea en su contorno firme y sutil es como la línea de la proa de una nave. Sus ojos amarillos dejaron una sola ranura para echar las monedas de la noche. Oh pequeño emperador sin orbe, conquistador sin patria, mínimo tigre de salón, nupcial sultán del cielo de las tejas eróticas, el viento del amor en la intemperie reclamas cuando pasas y posas cuatro pies delicados en el suelo, oliendo, desconfiando de todo lo terrestre, porque todo es inmundo para el inmaculado pie del gato. Oh fiera independiente de la casa, arrogante vestigio de la noche, perezoso, gimnástico y ajeno, profundísimo gato, policía secreta de las habitaciones, insignia de un desaparecido terciopelo, seguramente no hay enigma en tu manera, tal vez no eres misterio, todo el mundo te sabe y perteneces al habitante menos misterioso, tal vez todos lo creen, todos se creen dueños, propietarios, tíos de gatos, compañeros, colegas, discípulos o amigos de su gato. Yo no. Yo no suscribo. Yo no conozco al gato. Todo lo sé, la vida y su archipiélago el mar y la ciudad incalculable, la botánica, el gineceo con sus extravíos, el por y el menos de la matemática, los embudos volcánicos del mundo, la cáscara irreal del cocodrilo, la bondad ignorada del bombero, el atavismo azul del sacerdote, pero no puedo descifrar un gato. Mi razón resbaló en su indiferencia, sus ojos tienen números de oro.
Continue reading...
98
Triumphantly raised colorful flagpole insignia dynasties of this country and that country and other country destroying each other territorial like rabid animals and house pets. Atomic bomb cat food will feed us full in fallout by the end! Meeeee-oww!
0
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 12:07 PM UTC
Killed The Cat
Foggy breeze through my fingertips when sunburnt days seem coveted in memory. When the columbines came back from the dead. Burnt up cities... The last glimpse of firefly lights grew dim behind me The trees sprouted everywhere like stardust The pillars I once worshipped in incense with amulets became faded ruins... The weathered walls texture were like sequins with no glimmer I escaped again to a place with green lakes and forrests of pines It's quieter up here in the mountains Like a shudder through the window I hear the old house moan all through the day and all through the night The sunlight pierces through the blinds illuminating his face which is already illuminated But you're my bumblebee that insignia- a honey gatherer If you subtract the intimacy out of *** Nothing's left, but hollow mechanical ******* Stealing the rythmn from the music Sturdy as a beam I lay Unable to grasp at anything It's just noise Sweaty day, shivering nights-juxtaposed It's like living on Mercury In decomposition like a basket of rotten lemons Past conversations crush their weight against my open ribs No parent teacher or friend told me how all consuming the sensation would be... Dazed eyes staring through disheveled blinds, I was dropping rose buds off the second floor balcony in the night They hit the scratchy asphalt like a gentle meteor shower Monotonous nights replay the same phases That moon... A face splashing from gibbous to crescent Waning on my malady Always stirring like a steady torch
0
Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 2:40 AM UTC
NEON
Foggy breeze through my fingertips when sunburnt days seem coveted in memory. When the columbines came back from the dead. Burnt up cities... The last glimpse of firefly lights grew dim behind me The trees sprouted everywhere like stardust The pillars I once worshipped in incense with amulets became faded ruins... The weathered walls texture were like sequins with no glimmer I escaped again to a place with green lakes and forrests of pines It's quieter up here in the mountains Like a shudder through the window I hear the old house moan all through the day and all through the night The sunlight pierces through the blinds illuminating his face which is already illuminated But you're my bumblebee that insignia- a honey gatherer If you subtract the intimacy out of *** Nothing's left, but hollow mechanical ******* Stealing the rythmn from the music Sturdy as a beam I lay Unable to grasp at anything It's just noise Sweaty day, shivering nights-juxtaposed It's like living on Mercury In decomposition like a basket of rotten lemons Past conversations crush their weight against my open ribs No parent teacher or friend told me how all consuming the sensation would be... Dazed eyes staring through disheveled blinds, I was dropping rose buds off the second floor balcony in the night They hit the scratchy asphalt like a gentle meteor shower Monotonous nights replay the same phases That moon... A face splashing from gibbous to crescent Waning on my malady Always stirring like a steady torch
Continue reading...
56
Poetry does not limit Expands the consciousness Beyond the realm of known From the land of wilderness Where many possibilities roam So many ways to portray Wildest of feelings and emotions Poetry captures them To release them to their freedom Poetry does not limit Poets get a new lease of life With each poetry that’s written Insignia of the muse remains etched In the heart of the poet Poetry does not limit
0
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 7:05 AM UTC
Freedom
Lucinta slams fist against her breast Cerberus three-headed dog howls In unison screams, either side of dream “Take his body from this place!” Christians march sewers of Rome Mauritanian archer recognizes his face   Sebastian’s body is resumed And buried at the feet Of Peter and Paul, ground so hallowed Irene and maidens weep Her herbs, tincture not swallowed This time it is for keeps   Diocles murdered twice This Patron Saint of Athletes Piercing arrows, which were undone By Irene’s tender grace, now replaced With blows of clubs by Emperor Of a Rome which begins to waste   He saw it coming, plague of plagues And knew the Christ was Risen He ****** all from Milan to Gaul And Christians were so imprisoned And each convinced another man Of this immaculate and pristine vision   So on it goes unto this day Athletes wear insignia on silver medal And delivery to us a new plague While good veiled Italian women do peddle The famous artists nouvelle vague Will this martyrdom ever not settle?   Sebastian as Sadomasochist Will you hear devotee’s prayer? Or must I continue to pierce myself With points from here to there? End thine madness thyself And show this world your care
0
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 6:41 PM UTC
Sebastianus Depositio Martyrum
afternoon's glint on the mirror-pond, a whirling specimen of fire, ocher-speckled, Sun's insignia vessels deep into the clammy water; furiously swaying like a pinned down beast reluctant to be held— Makati traffic jostles the silent grieving of the asphalt. simultaneous burst of chrome on the metal bodies, oh, the coming and going, children laughing vibrantly without memory of scathing pasts and boorish origins— tossing coins beckoning the heaven in pursed lips and clenched fists tender with years dwindling along with the turning of the calendar's page, the sudden leap of figure lamenting the absence of language; i walk the street festooned with dried leaves and forlorn seasons, hurling no amaranth to the entire Makati cityscape.
0
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 2:06 AM UTC
Ruminations By The Koi Pond
I was the one who swallowed the sun and yet it is your touch that burns on to my skin like an insignia of shame; halos of quiet desperation, a footprint on the welcome mat to our own little hell. So the next time you cry for your skin, remember I scar for you.
0
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 11:24 PM UTC
Halo
The mosquitoes supped histamine limpets into our puckered flesh dew gilted grass entombed our feet in dappled domes refracting the overhead fireworks smears of whirling color accented by smoke mote ghosts I forgot to wear my contacts my near-sightedness makes you giggle nervously - a hard full body ****** of a laugh it arches your spine pulling our hand-holding into an expansion only the lining betwixt finger inlets galvanized our pulse well, that and your voltaic laugh its flourishing timbre resonant reverberant pyrotechnic thickly glazing aural canal lascivious tomes penned themselves densely upon neural plane dendrites imprinting chemical insignia moment captured in impressionistic blurs
0
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 8:35 PM UTC
A Firework Doppleganger Held My Hand Today
it is no stretch of the imagination his beret did fit him so comfortably upon his overly inflated cranium it sat most perfectly emblazoned in letters large none could miss the huge advertisement had an insignia telling of self aggrandizement the cap did well correlate with the egotistical ***** who wore it he twas big on being full of himself ergo... Mr Importance
0
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 5:15 PM UTC
Egotistical *****
You deserve someone who can look pain in the eye — an insignia of heartbreak with your name written all over it; your trembling sighs — like rust, lingering over their rosegold lips, and still, not forget that they love you.
0
Feb 6, 2021
Feb 6, 2021 at 10:46 AM UTC
Some things, I wish were us.
Your luscious lips fervently seek mine and the time freezes, the cosmic hum, the primordial love anthem is heard within us, Your signature scent, perilously plays fiddle with my olfactory nerves, a garden of love within me blooms, hear the sonorous drone of bees ! A web of silver threads from your eyes, makes me your captive, stitches the insignia of our love in my heart with the touch of a feather. On the back of my neck, your broken breath permeates ****** heat, the hold around my waist,tells what your words couldn't spell out.
0
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 9:04 AM UTC
That moment of entrapment
A regards to the singlular Chaos, But life dwelling is not a Trek alone: I forecast order in a feminine Touch that clouds the menacing Aloness, That order feminine Which will throw away old Things lukewarm in my Memory, The old cup that barely bears The insignia of my team, An order feminine which will Prearrange all the chaos And let me fill it's orders, A space all my own, A dusty garage And all the feminine order Will not follow me there, But direct like a good woman Does pushing behind every man. An oder feminine like the sweet Smelling home she scents As with everything she touches, The chaos will never truly Die, It will slumber and awaken a few times a week, An occasional game and fire and meat, And filling in the time Between the spaces, An order feminine Diguises a brute and differs Into a man.
0
Sep 27, 2017
Sep 27, 2017 at 4:15 PM UTC
An Order Feminine
This is it; the deepest I can fathom, the fastest I can light the flying arrow quick released from not so sure cocked finger. This is it; the flattest I can color the plainest I can reek thru silicon weaving densely threaded cloth fibered shirt, insignia emblazon on Polo front pocket. This is IT; the peak, the twin peaks. The n-peaks? I realize the game continues and IT sets to zero, derivatized as partial IT-equations, is easier to solve.
0
Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 11:31 AM UTC
This is it
You were my rock my shoulder boulder eroded over time by mental health that crept into the room by stealth but remember all we talked about you were the foundation the building blocks the "we can do this". Navigate the spell of despair bear the insignia with pride dispel and expel the mental scars to bare we were a team dude you were my rock in the storm we were shorn from the same cloth you and I. Never ones to shelter from the thunderstorm arms outwards, dancing in hedonistic pleasure revel in the present and like Leftfield said: Release The Pressure. We were Gods mate, legends in our own time I am left to decipher why man why you felt so alone you couldn't reach out to family, to a friend and have a good cry; I would've held you mate like you held me that day. I had a call from an unknown number I picked it up in random wonder to be told your body was found this morning attached to a home-made rope feet in shadow by your painted awning utterly gutted my brain waves disrupted that my Sifu, my Teacher, My Friend life was suddenly spent. I just sent a letter of poems for you to read with my consent. I feel lost. I feel broken. The demons we talked about I've kept them in control now out of control the devils have awoken. You were my friend like a brother from another mother I am left to wonder where are you now but know now that your pain has ceased there will always be a jigsaw piece of the blue sky missing; go with God my friend and forever rest in peace.
0
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 3:38 PM UTC
David R.I.P.
You were my rock my shoulder boulder eroded over time by mental health that crept into the room by stealth but remember all we talked about you were the foundation the building blocks the "we can do this". Navigate the spell of despair bear the insignia with pride dispel and expel the mental scars to bare we were a team dude you were my rock in the storm we were shorn from the same cloth you and I. Never ones to shelter from the thunderstorm arms outwards, dancing in hedonistic pleasure revel in the present and like Leftfield said: Release The Pressure. We were Gods mate, legends in our own time I am left to decipher why man why you felt so alone you couldn't reach out to family, to a friend and have a good cry; I would've held you mate like you held me that day. I had a call from an unknown number I picked it up in random wonder to be told your body was found this morning attached to a home-made rope feet in shadow by your painted awning utterly gutted my brain waves disrupted that my Sifu, my Teacher, My Friend life was suddenly spent. I just sent a letter of poems for you to read with my consent. I feel lost. I feel broken. The demons we talked about I've kept them in control now out of control the devils have awoken. You were my friend like a brother from another mother I am left to wonder where are you now but know now that your pain has ceased there will always be a jigsaw piece of the blue sky missing; go with God my friend and forever rest in peace.
Continue reading...
52