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"interactions" poems
Loyalty is something that is earned. Loyalty is built on trust. We each must be loyal to our own beliefs and our own selves, before we can be loyal to someone else. To be loyal to someone means that they have not violated your personal values They must earn support by being there when needed. Loyalty cannot violate a person’s choice between right & wrong. Asking me to lie violates my ethics; do not put me in this position. If someone is doing drugs, I am being a loyal friend when getting you help. A loyal friend does what is right, even when others feel it is disloyal. If I meet you today I cannot be loyal because I do not know you. If I have known you all of your life, I may not be loyal to you because of past interactions. Overall a combination of time and actions affect loyalty To separate these two does not work, for true loyalty resides in a combination of both.
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Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 1:51 PM UTC
Loyalty
Be careful in your interactions, Kindness is scarce these days. One kind gesture, Could put an uneasy soul at bay.
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Jun 29, 2014
Jun 29, 2014 at 11:46 PM UTC
Kindness
Mary plants stems of roses Happy is her sensuous senses. Rosy roses reddish ,yellow Dribbling dews on petals glow. Sandy was her piece of land ,still Mixing humus made she fertile. Grow up mango, cashew trees now Hellish heat around falls low. All the birdies, human beings with Rolling breeze’s blessing grew forth. Nurture Nature for our future Save our culture agriculture. Greenery is her granary giving Honey, money, feeling pleasing. Waves on beaches softly recede Crawling ripples crippling proceed. Do you know? lives here sustain Only through eternal restrain. Gain for all lies where interactions Divine hold our honest actions =============================
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Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 10:33 PM UTC
NURTURE NATURE FOR OUR FUTURE
Forest inquires: How do you decide, choose your design, find its guise, give it a face, surrender to the poem's own vanity,         and choose the poem's alignment?                                                   an answer forms: this alignment idea, you think it simple, everybody understands what your inquiry means alignment -  the appropriate relative position we live in relative position to each other, our poems too, for they are but written synapses of our close captioned interactions, seemingly random, but assuredly not, as we invest in ourselves, seeking the mysterious appropriate answer                                                                                         from the Theory of Poetic Relativity                                                                 i love your question;                              hold it to my nostrils,                                                                     smell the coffee aroma wake up blast inherent;                                                                         kiss its robust childlike cheeks for the simple   soulfulness essential arousal; for you see sir you have found the appropriate position that relates us, our mindful words;                                  answer no good, wholly insufficient?                                         perfect.                           as i close this quick cooked to perfection laboratory solution, take note                                                                                    the earth has moved                                 our hearts have beaten a measly thousand times                                     time and space have appropriated our prior                                            relativity when you return years hence this poem's shape will perforce have moved. for words are weathered flux constant and yet inherently unchanged except for the part of us that changes with every re-reading   and what was right before has left and the center has moved again
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Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 9:25 AM UTC
alignment (The Theory of Poetic Relativity)
Forest inquires: How do you decide, choose your design, find its guise, give it a face, surrender to the poem's own vanity,         and choose the poem's alignment?                                                   an answer forms: this alignment idea, you think it simple, everybody understands what your inquiry means alignment -  the appropriate relative position we live in relative position to each other, our poems too, for they are but written synapses of our close captioned interactions, seemingly random, but assuredly not, as we invest in ourselves, seeking the mysterious appropriate answer                                                                                         from the Theory of Poetic Relativity                                                                 i love your question;                              hold it to my nostrils,                                                                     smell the coffee aroma wake up blast inherent;                                                                         kiss its robust childlike cheeks for the simple   soulfulness essential arousal; for you see sir you have found the appropriate position that relates us, our mindful words;                                  answer no good, wholly insufficient?                                         perfect.                           as i close this quick cooked to perfection laboratory solution, take note                                                                                    the earth has moved                                 our hearts have beaten a measly thousand times                                     time and space have appropriated our prior                                            relativity when you return years hence this poem's shape will perforce have moved. for words are weathered flux constant and yet inherently unchanged except for the part of us that changes with every re-reading   and what was right before has left and the center has moved again
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28
every poem gets the exact number of reads it deserves <> nah, I don't think that for a millisecond, shoot, not a ****** nanosecond (1) truthfully I'm torn up inside and my thinking absolutely could be wrong or could be right absolutely just like the optionality of believing in god; has to be some force of intelligence that could create such microscopic complexity randomly or just thinking the world is just a series of accidentally interactions so who's to say what's good, what's not so good, and by what standard one should judge Is this a poem? Heck if I know and what sbout the poems that get not a one, a single one, absence of curiosity, an unheralded execution. death by silent ignorance, a master's mastery of exactitude all because just because Is that a collective decision by an unconscious collective, the best moderne equivalent of the unmarked death of just a single one of your billions of brain cells (2)(3) all I know is that my confusion is confirmed my constancy is inconsistent my equatorial balance is gonzo, dragging me down, each division wants to piece me up, and today, right now got no answers at all how do I define myself? what categories do I fit within? and yet that answers one question! **do not write interrogatory inquisitions at 1:15 am (unless you're a DUMB lucky ******* who believes they got answers**)
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Jul 12, 2025
Jul 12, 2025 at 3:19 PM UTC
****** every poem gets the exact number of reads it deserves
Your words are flowers Blooming in interactions Early blossoms grow
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Oct 9, 2023
Oct 9, 2023 at 4:36 AM UTC
Words Are Flowers (Senyru)
Let’s learn the Social Science subjects called Sociology & Anthropology The twin disciplines are integrated comprehensively Sociology focuses on society & socialization Social Processes, Social Groups, Social Movements are in every nation While Anthropology centers on the study of culture Here we can learn better the society for sure As culture has characteristics, elements & dimensions Society evolves with it through various interactions! -04/28/2017 (Dumarao) *SSN Poems
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Sep 28, 2019
Sep 28, 2019 at 10:02 PM UTC
Let’s Learn Sociology-Anthropology
nerd, dork, no life Dorks my favorite because practically its my name now I'm usually buried in a book and I usually. Get asked what's the point? Honestly I think it'll make me a better lover Because when I find a girl I'll be able to teach her about science so she can understand the bond that I feel for her I'll be able to teach her about math so we can view love at a different angel I'll be able to teach her about history so she'll understand when I say that if my love were to flow into the ocean it would make BP's 2010 incident look like a drop of black paint on a canvas of red I'll be able to teach her about English especially present participles you know running, jumping, skipping words that describe an action that's ongoing that's why she'll never hear me say I love you but hear I'm Loving you I'll be able to teach her about art because id love to paint her like one of my French girls And even thought I'm buried in books there is still so much I don't know about human interactions she'll be able to teach me about sadness and how to make it go away she'll be able to teach me about happiness and how to make it stay she'll be able to teach me about jealousy and how its like a fire that will burn you from the inside out she'll be able to teach me about lust and how it always leads to disaster she'll be able to teach me about loyalty and how its the key to perfection But all this day dreaming was interrupted by my daily bully whose only words were insults I gave him a look that if I were superman would've left a gap between his eyes He asked what I thought of him So I explained.. Well scientifically speaking you and beauty are like a magnet with the same charge Mathematically speaking your ego is like the number 5i .. imaginary Historically speaking how you manage to speak with a lack of a brain is the 8th wonder of the world But in plain old English you're always looking for someone to actually love you back And by the way its Mr. Dork to you
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Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 2:35 PM UTC
DORK
nerd, dork, no life Dorks my favorite because practically its my name now I'm usually buried in a book and I usually. Get asked what's the point? Honestly I think it'll make me a better lover Because when I find a girl I'll be able to teach her about science so she can understand the bond that I feel for her I'll be able to teach her about math so we can view love at a different angel I'll be able to teach her about history so she'll understand when I say that if my love were to flow into the ocean it would make BP's 2010 incident look like a drop of black paint on a canvas of red I'll be able to teach her about English especially present participles you know running, jumping, skipping words that describe an action that's ongoing that's why she'll never hear me say I love you but hear I'm Loving you I'll be able to teach her about art because id love to paint her like one of my French girls And even thought I'm buried in books there is still so much I don't know about human interactions she'll be able to teach me about sadness and how to make it go away she'll be able to teach me about happiness and how to make it stay she'll be able to teach me about jealousy and how its like a fire that will burn you from the inside out she'll be able to teach me about lust and how it always leads to disaster she'll be able to teach me about loyalty and how its the key to perfection But all this day dreaming was interrupted by my daily bully whose only words were insults I gave him a look that if I were superman would've left a gap between his eyes He asked what I thought of him So I explained.. Well scientifically speaking you and beauty are like a magnet with the same charge Mathematically speaking your ego is like the number 5i .. imaginary Historically speaking how you manage to speak with a lack of a brain is the 8th wonder of the world But in plain old English you're always looking for someone to actually love you back And by the way its Mr. Dork to you
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24
It's always a criminal time to fight/ To fizz away our furies and our fears in violent interactions within 'The Warrior Play'/ To unite in bouts/ Put personalities in liberty/ Releases to bring about the death reaction Untangled in all this Is an eye/ a void/ It paces and turns forgetful and lost ; a powerless ghost and a witness to these mad spoilings and energy fits/ This pinball of the battlefield is catalyst ; The untouched spirit of the weapon-head/ a war chime and the thirst of all of us 'soldiers'                  - in pattern & in population
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Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 9:30 PM UTC
War Chime
Conflict resolution is like a field of mines where shrapnel explodes and uncertain footings pervade their way through the flesh of our workplace relationships. Professionalism has crossed invisible boundaries beyond the realms of Saturn, don’t you think? Please, will you consider having political interactions on the territory upon which I reside? You will then truly understand the mechanics of being. I can correct you. But you must be willing. Come on, babe! I dare you to venture outside of the box of predictability, because we can then truly arrive at a mutual understanding.
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Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 9:16 PM UTC
Interpersonal Dynamics
we see the world as a whole we talk to others like to poles I'm sitting aside you just like a tree let me tell you som'n, do you agree? My entire life is all about me my mom, my dad, my friends, I, Be! since I'm the stack of body parts I consider this world like my heart the sun will shine as doubt will grow I aint gon lie, my sun's my eyes the more i see the less doubt be and when my eyes roll out and blow I stop and stare, seeing the lies that was allowing all doubts to be human interactions are contradictory because heart and brain are different history my heart for humans will always be bold my brain for its knowledge will never be sold so the reason of that contradiction is that we're doing things in the wrong direction putting our heart in interactions brainy analyse the human nations once we've flipped it 90 degree human interactions will finally be free. I see children as my fingers and veteran as my toes the latter have the wisdom so I keep them at the bottom so I can stand tall like Heroes. Children are important so i teach them daily I keep them accurate and let them work freely for they are the essence of things that most matters TV news are useless so i'll say they are my poops commercial aren't that far cuz they are my farts one cannot live without them both they are 2 essential parts of the social oligo-elements, a tiny lil portion or oops! know yourself and you'll know the world cuz each body parts is a fraction of the herd I think I'm talking too much you are already too tired I'll leave you with emptyness cuz that's what got me inspired
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Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 12:48 AM UTC
Body Parts
we see the world as a whole we talk to others like to poles I'm sitting aside you just like a tree let me tell you som'n, do you agree? My entire life is all about me my mom, my dad, my friends, I, Be! since I'm the stack of body parts I consider this world like my heart the sun will shine as doubt will grow I aint gon lie, my sun's my eyes the more i see the less doubt be and when my eyes roll out and blow I stop and stare, seeing the lies that was allowing all doubts to be human interactions are contradictory because heart and brain are different history my heart for humans will always be bold my brain for its knowledge will never be sold so the reason of that contradiction is that we're doing things in the wrong direction putting our heart in interactions brainy analyse the human nations once we've flipped it 90 degree human interactions will finally be free. I see children as my fingers and veteran as my toes the latter have the wisdom so I keep them at the bottom so I can stand tall like Heroes. Children are important so i teach them daily I keep them accurate and let them work freely for they are the essence of things that most matters TV news are useless so i'll say they are my poops commercial aren't that far cuz they are my farts one cannot live without them both they are 2 essential parts of the social oligo-elements, a tiny lil portion or oops! know yourself and you'll know the world cuz each body parts is a fraction of the herd I think I'm talking too much you are already too tired I'll leave you with emptyness cuz that's what got me inspired
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40
Emotionless, flowing through a crowd of faceless souls A net of interactions that I am no longer a part of Each second I feel less and less, until I'm an empty vessel On the edge, brain going toe to toe with the devil Rotting amygdala in the cranium, insanity Not a single shred of dignity or humanity Running off no sleep, tobacco and black coffee No spirit left, except the pack in my back pocket I want nothing, but need everything all decisions past made to lead to serenity Going with the flow has left me alone with no one Why am I still here, where the hell am I going Long nights, long days, pretending I'm something I'm not Self deprecation and loathing patterns, indigenous thoughts Result is cold and heartless, riskless life to avoid the loss No solution horizon, mentally falling apart Fed up, hallucinations gone and messed my head up Yesterday is forgotten but tomorrow already dreaded Depression has blossomed, guilt trips and sunken ships Internal warfare, life is chaos amongst the midst
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Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 4:16 PM UTC
Heartless
You held my hand like you did that one night. (The one that I think about far too often) Stroking your thumb and occasionally squeezing to start a fight, I still find it cute. And yet, the only way we communicate is still face to face. Those interactions are never what I expect them to be. Sometimes you decide you like me, sometimes you don't, sometimes you even flirt. But last night, when you touched me like that in the first time in almost three months, I was back. I had been trying to get rid of the touch I still felt from that night. (when you were much sweeter than I thought you ever could be.) You intertwined our fingers, and stroked my hand long after we both went to sleep. I kept dreaming that something was keeping that hand warm, but then you'd squeeze my hand and I'd wake up and realize it was you. It just makes me wonder what you were thinking. And even though I don't want to, I'm back to seeing you in my dreams.
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Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 12:42 AM UTC
Who Knew I Still Got Shy From Hand Holding.
For you to notice me If you only knew I mainly want to talk, but my human side lets off. Images of my rough hands around your soft waist to let our souls mix and seep when our eyes meet. To sweet delight of soft serve with every curve I follow I only want to talk Exchange another note of human emotions and social interactions See we lack the capacity to physically understand And leading you off isn't in my objective I just get stiff with kisses on your neck I can almost feel your hands on my back Your legs tighten around my thighs Endorphins rush when your back  curves and your chest touches mine Temperatures rise, I can see all the signs I still want to talk Your interests interest me Lets take a walk If we stand still I'll examine your body My heart will go lively With electronic  sparks I only want to talk But when you laugh I get this shiver A cold quivering That you wouldn't notice In an instance we are on the grass with a breeze blowing your hair And I'm grabbing your *** I don't want to move too fast You then reach for me A heavenly breath runs across my neck I almost turn wild A stone to the ocean Oh how opposites attract I just want to talk However clever I might be how has your day been Lets get deeper mentally I'll exchange ****** innuendos lets see if you notice I'm just a man in not trying to be a pervert Then you smile and it takes awhile to adjust My imagination turns rough I envision us at a picnic a diamond in the rough Shoes off and your happy So I am too You make to first move Now I am excited and don't know what to do You look at me The eye contact  from green to brown We stare then our lips touch Our eyes close to love the moment As these can't be seen Emotions run rampant And I suckle on your teet But I just want to talk
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Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 4:31 AM UTC
I just want to talk
For you to notice me If you only knew I mainly want to talk, but my human side lets off. Images of my rough hands around your soft waist to let our souls mix and seep when our eyes meet. To sweet delight of soft serve with every curve I follow I only want to talk Exchange another note of human emotions and social interactions See we lack the capacity to physically understand And leading you off isn't in my objective I just get stiff with kisses on your neck I can almost feel your hands on my back Your legs tighten around my thighs Endorphins rush when your back  curves and your chest touches mine Temperatures rise, I can see all the signs I still want to talk Your interests interest me Lets take a walk If we stand still I'll examine your body My heart will go lively With electronic  sparks I only want to talk But when you laugh I get this shiver A cold quivering That you wouldn't notice In an instance we are on the grass with a breeze blowing your hair And I'm grabbing your *** I don't want to move too fast You then reach for me A heavenly breath runs across my neck I almost turn wild A stone to the ocean Oh how opposites attract I just want to talk However clever I might be how has your day been Lets get deeper mentally I'll exchange ****** innuendos lets see if you notice I'm just a man in not trying to be a pervert Then you smile and it takes awhile to adjust My imagination turns rough I envision us at a picnic a diamond in the rough Shoes off and your happy So I am too You make to first move Now I am excited and don't know what to do You look at me The eye contact  from green to brown We stare then our lips touch Our eyes close to love the moment As these can't be seen Emotions run rampant And I suckle on your teet But I just want to talk
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52
Love is a Waldorf. A Graham or an Ackermann? Nope, won’t suffice. Fortuitous interactions led me here. The crest of Eebs, the sphere. A polynomial function is infinitely differentiable. It carries many names, and many tools. analyze it and again and again Each derivative kills information. Eventually we all go to zero. Enjoy it while you can, speaks the radio man man man STOP RHYMING The rhyme scheme will further our demise destruction is imminent at least I had waldorf reduction to nothing. at least I got chicken.
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Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 6:58 PM UTC
Love is a Waldorf
Sitting alone in my bed, Anxiously yearning the touch of something different. Contemplating about differences, Visualizing the new experiences, Mesmerizing about different beauties, Fantasizing the new opportunities, About women of different cultures, Ethnicity and upbringing. Pay no mind to the language barrier, As our body speak that universal language, We can have intellectual conversations, We can have passionate  interactions. Lets's ponder with deep imagination, As we diversify this love, ignore it's discrepancies, So girls of all colors come closer and get drawn like crayola, As we paint this picture to see what we can make of this blend of colors. Envision this: Background music effectively babysitting my thoughts as I listen, Laying under the moon,  With that special person.  Inwardly rehearsing,  Every move to make,  Opportunities to take, Intaking the passion from the air she breathes out,  Creating chemistry not even Einstein could figure out. This love should be an equal opportunity, You plus me that's all that should matter. So would you explore your heart? Release the stereotypes that keep you in the dark? As darkness falls, Our temperatures rise. A reflection of moonlight shimmers in those eyes. They tell me your secrets; I tell you no lies. What lies beneath your skin will be ugliness' demise. Ironic, in the dark you see me for who I truly am. And I tell you who you truly are. So far. So good. So deep, it goes beneath your beauty, It goes beyond whatever society will tell you not to do with me. Tonight your biases shall not rule thee, For I am king of this pride. Swallow your pride and swallow my pride. Release the wait of inhibition and take this ride. Our inner flames fueled by passion shall light our way. They say, we are blind but it is only in darkness that we truly see. Give up shallow emotions, let your heart be free. Immerse yourself in this reality: My love is river, all else is only skin deep.
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Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 7:11 AM UTC
Skin Deep Thoughts
Sitting alone in my bed, Anxiously yearning the touch of something different. Contemplating about differences, Visualizing the new experiences, Mesmerizing about different beauties, Fantasizing the new opportunities, About women of different cultures, Ethnicity and upbringing. Pay no mind to the language barrier, As our body speak that universal language, We can have intellectual conversations, We can have passionate  interactions. Lets's ponder with deep imagination, As we diversify this love, ignore it's discrepancies, So girls of all colors come closer and get drawn like crayola, As we paint this picture to see what we can make of this blend of colors. Envision this: Background music effectively babysitting my thoughts as I listen, Laying under the moon,  With that special person.  Inwardly rehearsing,  Every move to make,  Opportunities to take, Intaking the passion from the air she breathes out,  Creating chemistry not even Einstein could figure out. This love should be an equal opportunity, You plus me that's all that should matter. So would you explore your heart? Release the stereotypes that keep you in the dark? As darkness falls, Our temperatures rise. A reflection of moonlight shimmers in those eyes. They tell me your secrets; I tell you no lies. What lies beneath your skin will be ugliness' demise. Ironic, in the dark you see me for who I truly am. And I tell you who you truly are. So far. So good. So deep, it goes beneath your beauty, It goes beyond whatever society will tell you not to do with me. Tonight your biases shall not rule thee, For I am king of this pride. Swallow your pride and swallow my pride. Release the wait of inhibition and take this ride. Our inner flames fueled by passion shall light our way. They say, we are blind but it is only in darkness that we truly see. Give up shallow emotions, let your heart be free. Immerse yourself in this reality: My love is river, all else is only skin deep.
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49
I have grown accustomed to the way silence forced itself upon my social interactions like a guest who wasn't invited but was let in anyway. My eyes have memorised the dents on these four walls that I could draw infinitely on maps of this bare surface. Pencils have worn out, I'm running low on graphite so my life decides to turn itself into the same shade of gray that I use to write about it. Books are doors to another world but their handles have broken, "Help!" I screamed, I am locked into this lonely reality. A social life filled with ghosts, blank-faces, and empty souls. Nothing to give , Nothing to receive.
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May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 4:24 PM UTC
Social Life
I am pure subjectivity I am objectivity contained by a brain I am an entity Inside a body I control my limbs And my organs control me The apparatus for my entity I am a being that seeks understanding While remembering who I stand under Those who sneakily seek to plunder The developing enigmatic wonder In my mind's torturous tundra My mind uses my body as a slave But is also a slave to the shame Of my body's interactions Within marginalized factions There is a fight between the two Like the fights between me and you My body won't quit when my mind is through And my mind stays conscious while my body is blue So I'm stuck in a deadlock With a mentality of bedrock Once I cease to be human I can be the perfect judge When my emotions won't budge I'll see things the way most organisms do Inside this zoo Animals have the flu And give it to each other When we communicate through pain The flu actually seems tame Compared to your game Of taking humanity And leaving an entity After you entered me My somber soul left Because of personality theft My mind moves my arms To block the pain My mind moves my feet To do the same Yet I lost these advantages When I had to walk too far My life only got more hard After experiencing your entropy I became a disembodied entity
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Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 4:17 PM UTC
Entity
I have a long way to go, but have no ride to take me there Rain is coming and the weight of the day rests on my shoulders. I want to let it go for just a moment, home is far away. Since that day in the playgorund, when i was alone tackling the highest monkey bar, i've been on my toes my entire life. The things that are required of me are always a bit higher than my hand can reach. The world's expectations stand before me like the Everest. The higher i aim, the higher this mountain of stress grows. I know i can never rest. The Pills won't extinguish my discontent, so i just bite my tongue and battle the night. Now i understand why standing in line is the first thing they teach you as a child. 'Human interaction' has become an oxymoron. The world is brimming with interactions, but there is no place for anything human within them. I once dreamed because i was afraid of becoming ordinary, now it's all i want. As i stand all alone in the rain, i realize that if you don't grow, even growing pains are nothing but pain. The older i get, the more afraid i become. I'm running but my feet and my heart have forgotten why. Dreams have become baggage. My only option is to leave them and keep running. They tell me to just take one more step, i raise my head and see that i'm in front of a cliff. Behind me, expectations are lined up, pretending that they're keeping me standing when really they are busy pushing. The commas i needed in my life have become entangled with numbers. The world lends a calculated hand. I don't want to reach for it, but i'm more afraid of being left empty handed. Time isn't the only thing that goes even when you hold it back. I look to the cloudy skies, i once could dream but tonight it's hard to even close an eye. Could you, for a moment, stop and give me a lift? i can't walk any longer, the wind is blowing and even still Is there no place for me in this big world? am I the only one on this road? Is there not one seat for me? Home is so far away. Things i have to do, the money i have to make... there was something more than that. I used to have a path, i used to have something that was like a dream. i had a dream.
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May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 1:01 AM UTC
Home is Far Away
I have a long way to go, but have no ride to take me there Rain is coming and the weight of the day rests on my shoulders. I want to let it go for just a moment, home is far away. Since that day in the playgorund, when i was alone tackling the highest monkey bar, i've been on my toes my entire life. The things that are required of me are always a bit higher than my hand can reach. The world's expectations stand before me like the Everest. The higher i aim, the higher this mountain of stress grows. I know i can never rest. The Pills won't extinguish my discontent, so i just bite my tongue and battle the night. Now i understand why standing in line is the first thing they teach you as a child. 'Human interaction' has become an oxymoron. The world is brimming with interactions, but there is no place for anything human within them. I once dreamed because i was afraid of becoming ordinary, now it's all i want. As i stand all alone in the rain, i realize that if you don't grow, even growing pains are nothing but pain. The older i get, the more afraid i become. I'm running but my feet and my heart have forgotten why. Dreams have become baggage. My only option is to leave them and keep running. They tell me to just take one more step, i raise my head and see that i'm in front of a cliff. Behind me, expectations are lined up, pretending that they're keeping me standing when really they are busy pushing. The commas i needed in my life have become entangled with numbers. The world lends a calculated hand. I don't want to reach for it, but i'm more afraid of being left empty handed. Time isn't the only thing that goes even when you hold it back. I look to the cloudy skies, i once could dream but tonight it's hard to even close an eye. Could you, for a moment, stop and give me a lift? i can't walk any longer, the wind is blowing and even still Is there no place for me in this big world? am I the only one on this road? Is there not one seat for me? Home is so far away. Things i have to do, the money i have to make... there was something more than that. I used to have a path, i used to have something that was like a dream. i had a dream.
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~ the Nth culling ~ she gentled sleeps besides the imperfect poet, who has wandered the hallways since four am, retuning his returning to their temple bed, to cull, pluck, her each precious breathing sound, source material for his Nth love poem smirking at his own Nth foolishness, weeping tears at the consequences of human interactions, he wonders, why does he worry, searching to distinguish between the black and white of life, hunting for meaningful words *when all the while he has the vein of her breathing to mine, as if he were a Ruth, following behind the harvest reapers, culling a bounty of dropped grains, fallen unto him to garner, imbibe and memorize* those Nth breaths, that last but seconds, but here memorialized for his own all time
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Jun 18, 2016
Jun 18, 2016 at 10:59 AM UTC
the Nth culling (a love poem)
I buried a suitcase in the sand, It's contents to remain unknown. Although I wish to understand These are best if left alone: The interactions of two Within a circle of three, The meaning of You Of I and of Me. The silence that’s found At the sun’s first breath, A man that has drowned Yet experienced no death. The alignment of power On painted lips, The deadliest flower- A rose with a whip. The interstice between Ribs and their cages, Guardians without wings And the gentlest rages. Where land touches sea- A transient mirror, It seemed fitting for me To bury it here.
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Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 4:40 PM UTC
The Suitcase