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ArturVRivunov Oct 2011
life is never what it seems to be, always reoccuring with a thought as put upon the length of arms that revolutionize this thought. . .for those that can be bought,
is day like today less then feeling of want to rot, because so simple as a breeze brought down your temperment to be pleased. . .caught in a storm, that has outlasted
longer then your heart to feel content and warm, to feel the essence of a breath among a group of bad breaths, in other words, to breath among a group of brothers and sisters
from whom you can gain so much. But life is never what it seems to be, instead you look yourself in the mirror pointing at me, you, fool. Glowing from ragging frustration,
the toll blows for you unsurpassable deflation, because it is not for your hand that grows for the motion, to pick which ******* **** you want to lotion. Spearing the reasons,
the ego is your hero, born to work zero, and trusted with such hand to uphold all by command. To twist on the ****, that opens your door, to circumstances i certainly care less
the **** to continue to explore. But with this slight little mention, please pay close attention because this song is a *****. At least to explain the message, my whole is a
whole that takes life time to experience and grow, and appreciate the things that stoop all the levels around me, no barrier, no door, just genuine life experience to bring me
to come to this point to explain to the world something within the self, that is described by astute persons, for whom these ideas carry on to fulfill an immense part of
something that is casually slipped in and never thought about because it is told within reason that humanity cannot be without such astute person's idealogy. For **** sake my
friend, if your have many common sense, think of the common thing that has driven you to come to the conclusion that you have come to about anything. Everything is absolute and
existent and is evoked through the means. . .from the time of your dissapating freedom, as kids, not as adults, because look at how adults are this days. They teach their kids,
and they let others teach their kids, but the kids never get the feeling of being free. I promiss you, that cry or emotion you have experienced due to lack of friendliness from a
neighboring ****, it is an instillement that sparks up many motions of your life to believe into bizarre things the world portrays. For myself, I find the starting point of my
when I first breathed my first sensible air, when I walked in my own two feet without guidance as to where my eyes were seeing. How can a mind be so tender, lost by the misconformed
train thogh after train thought. That is why I find schooling such a fascinating ruthless thing that can be broken into several fashions as to why is that case. But not even
reason to fashion an answer that I know will and is definetly can be viewed to abhold a societal dismark of "wF"is wrong with that guy's mind. He must be **** casing a storm to
bring an ideaology of thought or some **** religion, but that's what so funny to me. I find everything in life comedic, non concerning except at times if I feel similar to
someone adjacent because that is their essence in my prescence, and I feel the need to comfort it, to bring back the importance of that self. The part of life I find so comedic,
how bits and bits and everything with **** have all so many fascinating
things to learn from, the progression of one's mind never attains self worth in the world with something interfering. That something interfering for example, is me personally
writing what is can be taken as pointless and presenting my writing to you how I say I do. But did I say how I am presenting this writing, absolutely not. So brings the funny,
that school teaches the aspect of disfigurament of a person's essence. This thing is a complete oblivion to everything and anything, that because even though I did not specify
how I tone myself on this paper, there is the predicament to assume that I am very angry deranged person who but pokes charasmatically at something no one can grip, because he
is portraying me the image the way I was bred to see. But then it is so **** funny, you can also take my words describing
all that I intend to explain and stick them against me to simplify your circumstances as to the causitive feeling your experiencing, and maybe the confusion that I am creating
noting a significant point that I do write intentionally without any figurative wording, just simply talking about this to evoke a presence of an essence within you that is hindered,
by what type of **** everybody is wearing, where they are starring, who is ******* and adoring, and who's simply the **** because they don't fit in a deranged group, developed by
ego-centric level stingers, who but want either good for you, or it is the drive to profit from you everything. That is, words blah blah, can take stroll
on one day's role and make no complete sense, and all they did were live the sense of a tangled mind that fostered on what has been in some form, taught, over
what you can call a lively existence, considering how much traumatizing headaches this could cause, and resembled among a group of similar constituents with similar reasons
as to whatever the situation might be. I could point this out within one sentence, but it wouldn't hold any deeper understanding of this essence, so instead I decide with all
my reasoning and tremendous experience that even to some, even at this gritty expertisians who grease up the world to guess everything based on study and reasoning by other humans,
who believe all these ideas are shifters to the mind but always stem the relentless, functioning without any perspectives open to the idea that mold humans into one spatial and far better
so called community, which in all it's case has lost the essence to preserve the self without a ***** on the back. That ***** of course is the communal ****, that builds from a
trigger of words, then they teach the brain as if it is known how to be as a functioning unit. The amount doesn't matter, the amount that is thought brings hope, but the most
amount to the self is the function of you, like I feel I function amongst anyone because I have come to terms and realize what really important things I have learned from my life.
My life to some is gripping, only because it sounds unbelievable, but of that life I found the same driving forces that drive madness even today, and has been reaccuring for as
long as some form of expression has been. And in all humiliation of humanity, or as I consider it digression of being self around the bounds of comfortability, it has been
a grand experience to see many a people transgress from the point of my meeting them with a continuous contact to the point of now, and then, and future plausible. But then
and future plausible for me stand out as notions needless of evocations due to the fact that the self is a dwindling factor hung by a rope to swing the way the self first portrayed
to me, and then to the direction away from the first encountered mind. But in all, without senseless ignorance, I do understand these things are studied for a reason, for a reason
that is workable to be as they are for some variables do affect person's in many different way. That is why, the sense of one roof and too many aloof is but a big spoof. With
sensibility, how can forging something into your life help you to achieve greatness within self to portray it in a manner plausible. The only way is as a current flows, so do
the gulls.



where do you. . .come from. . .so many leagues unbeknownst among my dreams.
life is never what it seems. . .until i met your eyes.. . that built
my stongest implication, dire in desire to live a life inspired. . .
but then so is, to dream upon what tends on building motivation. . .
life is beautiful sensation. . .
from the first rainfall with you meeting outside spontaneous realm. . .
we fought the solemn wind to calm our cumbered spirits. . .taking flight,
fighting what might have been. . .semeless to even entertain. . .lost in
each others warmness. . .everything we built tended harmless.

now see how we have. . .related to each other's hearts. . .left the scrutinity
at obscurity prolonged on scale of mirror. . .where it has always belonged.
now it's just time darling
i promiss it wont be long until our roots bind the maximum strong.

from even across the plains, and mountain long trip stains. . .i feel
less pain. . .from what's the phrase non loose then gain, consorting time
absorbing each other's essence in rhyme.
the deepest of sensation of you. . .the meekest of me, makes me be the simple thing
that i've reconnected to . . .to realize, the sensation of you. . .from our first
encounter, i felt deep into your eyes. . .what agree's none behind with lies. . .
you evoked the deepest motion within my sphere of emotion not to betray myself within
this realm and dark frivolous potion. . .for my first set of emotion set on your tone behind
this potion. . .

i face you eye for an eye of every day until i die, but will ever will i die. . .not with you
never. . .darling angel, angel you are my expressive tone to call you so. . .nothing more
is the essense of you that you seem to implore, how busy life must be. . .we need feel free
to good ridance from this fee that life doesn't instill our good griefs beyond simple joys and beliefs. . .
for simply darling we are each other's heart beats, if it's simple smell of you
i will carry out my deeds in hell. . .beneath on hearth this earth, where all of us have been given
birth. . .but sent to spend what is driven by multipolluted cord, the time in blunt approach from
the thing that planted our roots. . .

how i feel you is simply too rich for some dirt to enrich you. . .i simply love and cherish
every bit of your essence, it has lifelong presence that even doing what they call
reminiscing, can't surpass living without missing what they have been reminiscing. . .
i cherish you beyond what little faith can teach about having bigger faith, when all my hopes
ride faithful slopes without elongated stops and rope bearing hopes. . .
my life i see to the extent to remorse only what some feel beyond scope of too openly. . .
but how can i retreat on what i can't stop to feel to protect you from, to their heads we are getting closely. . .
how in the scope of your first essence, can i give up to give way to ruin such pure essence. . .

i understand the world makes a feeling for such pure feeling is counted by blessings. . .
and in order for us to make it, that thought i feel senseless baking . . .constant roll of assorted
reasons for why we bleed to them treasons . . .for how can i express, how simple love doesn't
just digress, or something with time you invest. . .it's simply have been a joy of building
together a foundation for our nest. . .**** the rest. . .**** the pest. . .the world is the best
when sleepers are put to rest and the spark of commune are dwellers dwelling on these mischivers'
locked up chest. . .
to find out that darling. . .you simply are a joy to give me whole, that i'm not uninspired troll
reluctant to breath beside the one he placed his greed upon. . .or her, or it. . but all the essence
is closed and beat, by some known with ideals humanity can't consider too farfetched to bare to grit. . .
and sway to the essence that i hold in my glances. . .are as simple as these branded constructed norms
that most tend to manipulate and distort to one contorted form. . . .so all can bend into one socket for 365
degree view that most tend to agree. . .but never really see.

i know it's many there with this essense around the breeze of an aura, that simply are stranded too far apart by such horror.. .
to relent their essence with their prescence. . .to whom Barbarians find the essence is planted full on messes.
but how can we relate to such things darling. . .when the first glow of your essence showed me life full
of memories by the smile in your eyes, glowing beauty of any sort. . .i feel the world will someday . . .
take flight. . .in my way, but **** that. . .i'm to speak when my message is too simple, provoked only by the
thought, "protect the world its miser mother has been beaten". . .i can never relent, the message that is never
but to contradict what's life has not eaten. . .because of the times put to squares, living life, fostering a step back, into recluce. . .these biches wont even
say cause their too ****. . .to figure out that there's a worrior to stump them pleaded sheets out of wood. . .
i say this out for your sarcasm, elongated this song a bit to give you big ******. . .so when you repose, you
think nothing but what side are the pro's. . .and enter them into oblivion, grasping each by the billion, how
can i repose for i know, without one word it is and has been always come down to the special chosen million. . .

because my darling, i feel the miser that this essence in me you inspire, is up and target for no good. . .for
these pleaded fockers granted themselves unrelentless priveleges for centuries, changing diepers to giving
blood diamond marriages. . .riding on what they call prestine carriages. . .oh what,you don't recognize this
what the world has come to building from everybody's demise. . .feeding on high rise. . .splitting cots in the
rots, most alluded with plots and continued building upon the essence of you, keeping you stewed, brewing up a flu. . .
to this day when i met you. . .
will never cease your memory by only that it was circumstance. . .romance among thieves denying our chance to dance. . .
with one glance, their world just plopped a chance. . .for i know they know who im refering to, without a glance
i'm sure they feel my stance just to look **** eyed puking. . .**** blocking their world to rocking, while else where goes to foster under
this ugly monster. . .stooped on a porch ******* their air, without any underwear. . .haha must be due to how
much pull goes to their hair. . .how do i, they feel ****** diddlidy ****, what, is this person a human or a
restored frame of mind living. . .i can't be what's in my eyes to be believing, but i simply am retarted man. . .
a ******* rough psychological fighting bluff, to them i would. . .but trust me, how could i in my life, i
never could.. . .fall to false pretention, that life is a great invention, that my desire's are for simple
hires. . .for i know my life evolves around that which your first essence, darling, we built stronger everyday
to our future of what we call present. . .

life with you, i simply can't resent. . .but figure out what's best
to make what we don't need to make. . . because the essence uproots life's shrivel of what they call romances. . .
rooting upward from the seed we planted on the day people deside to bleed
all over the notion, that this emotion they conquered stems from shot of elixir handed down from the heavens by
some they call cupid fixer. . .relentless, they push through many dances. . .all so strained and constricted by many
glances, restricting their free essence to feel in whole their life is shot down by simple messes. . . .
but you, none taken, broken and mistaken. . .how can simple things be so. . .when you know my essence for you is
far greater then what one instance can remark for the whole, i feel simply. . .protect you from their hole and
bind you with my essence that strives in whole. . .even through tormenting lonely dances. . .when i saw the world an ugly form. . .
nowhere to want to run to, or feel
resentment.. . where's life going to go. . .if my essence in a whole feeds you. . .away to their
mysterious goal. . .i wouldn't have the patience to ***** their abnormal pretence, as if life is sweet with
such mysterious fowl. . .create little thought to create bigger picture, many aditions just create tensities
among those who bicker, loosing control each time only quicker. . .that's why it's never lesser to speak for the lesser
dresser, or the person they showed you, that looked like he ******* told you, but instead they made the mistake
to grow lower. . . cowering even bolder. . . what **** is the point of that. . .to say it none meeker as if its meant to outcast the bleeker
. . .i'm not that so. . .to scowl like fowl crackhead, loosing self reliance to gr
Umi May 2018
Beyond the boundaries of our restricted life,
Lies a world of pure fantasy, majestic and venurable in size,
You don't have to die in a dream, were the words pushed into me,
Because I was weak, such was a limited set of mind, bound to earth,
"Oh heavens, oh earth" I said, " take me in, let me enjoy the beauty and joy of what's beyond my fragile body once more, just for this moment, I would like to lose myself in the melody of life and death"
The boundary of day and night, determined by the worlds spin gifts us fascinating sunrises, and a starlit nightsky filled with great glory,
Seen and unseen, fantasy and reality all kept from interfering with one another by complex mechanisms and borders, orderly stuctured!
The boundary to another's heart however is crossed by emotions,
Emotions which are to be kind, pure and sweet, ah, phantoms!
Phantoms of the past conveyed by memories long gone corrupt judgement; when I knew the meaning of eternity you were no longer there, such the serenity of silence rules over this deserted border.
The border of conciousness.

~ Umi
Alexis J Meighan Oct 2012
A dads uniform
                          (Now my own)


           On any given day I saw the many faces of a man.
I watch him play his roles like they were well rehearsed scenes.
He was a star in his own actions, drama, thrillers and romance.

         He wore his soldiers uniform on sunday, torn jeans, white T-shirt with no sleeves and abrasions and scrapes gave stripes to his big arms.
He had oil on his hands and grease on his chin, barking orders as he worked on the car.
" Hand me that 3/4 standard and torque it to the 5th notch"
"What!? What the **** language was that?" I thought to myself as I awkwardly reached for the 1st thing my eyes spotted and held it up.
"That's a hammer Alex!" He said shaking his head as he smiled and walked toward me. He rarely had a disappointing tone. Later he explain the workings of a standard torque wrench Vs a metric wrench with converter. 10 years later I used that wrench to change my Edelbrock Electronic Carburetor 400 series twin stoker all by myself.

    I once saw him defend his honor. That day he wore  his heroes uniform as he leaped from person to person striking, grabbing, kicking, and throwing the 3 large men who underestimated his ferociousness. His tank top was ****** from the wound on his nose. His hat fell to the dirt next to the beaten, unconscious, and humiliated foes that once stood before him.
I could see that he intended to continue his lesson in respect but as he glanced over to see my wide open mouth and unmoved stare he quickly contained his aggression. He picked up his hat and shook it a few time to knock the dirt off. In that moment was another unexpected act. He help the worst of the men to a sitting position and asked him if he was ok. He was genuine in his concern that he may have been excessive in his judgment.
Later that night he explain to me that violence should never be the 1st choice for a solution and our actions should reflect the person we want people to see.
I would remember this 15 years later when sitting with the man I just choked unconscious, letting him drink my gatorade and catch his breath moments after he attempted to robbed me at knife point. In that few minutes I learned his life story. My friends said my actions were foolish.

            Duct tape and crazy glue are the tools of every street born medic.
T-shirt gauzes and boiled stones often made his grace when he wore his First aid uniform.
      
        As a kid I did DUMB very well, from gun powder soup, to a game of dart board hands. One of the more gruesome moments was my apple cutting malfunction. I severed my finger at the base pretty good. I cut right through the knuckle at the base of the index finger. It was the 1st time I fainted. Its still a debate weather it was the loss of blood or sight of it. Like a seasoned veteran he jumped into action. While most doctors would  use a coagulant like Lanxess, iodine and 22 gauge suture for this injury but not this man. He opted for all purpose flour, beer and duct tape to disinfect and seal the wound. Even though it was 3 hours before the emergency room would clean and repair the damage, I didn't shed another drop of blood while his homemade fix was in place.
I learned a lot of (what his friends called Ni**a rigging) first aid tips from him.
12 years later, while on a training exercise with  my CCC group in the forrest, a grade worker suffered a compound fracture from a slip and fall while hiking. I used a heated licorice root as antiseptic and 2 flat rock, my shoe in soles and a belt to mend and set his arm well enough to hike 2 miles back through the trail till we found help.

          When I write my poetry I never know what it is people see or interpret from it. I know the workings of romance and I know the power of its application. The day he wore his Casanova uniform I witnessed 1st hand the great reward a little effort can bring 2 people in love.
         On a normal day in the park us kids ran around yelling and screaming while him and mom sat on the grass watching us play. In the moments of a physical dilemma I sat next to him to catch my breath as he talk to her about random things. I knew my presence was interfering with whatever moment him and my mom were having but I was too intrigued by the task he was performing on the side to care.
On the reverse of a box top he drew a picture of a monkey sitting on a tree in the middle of the water. It was handing a flower to a mermaid sitting on a rock. I never forgot the joy on my moms face when he handed it to her and said "this is us."
I saw that picture everyday displayed on her mirror. Here I am 25 years later looking at my own art and words displayed across the walls of my home. My wife often looks at her description in the words and her name in the titles. Our own son invades our personal space as we sneak kisses and exchange affection through his predictable intrusions.

        My own uniforms hang in my closet waiting for interpretation from onlookers.
Suit up and be seen, or close your eyes and remember his many suits. Your in my thoughts. I hope this finds its way to you.
        Love
              -Alex J Meighan-
Mellow waves Jul 2018
Go follow your dreams they say,
Well, how can i follow them if people can’t stop putting boarders,
If they can’t stop interfering with your life,
Pushing you too hard
Making you want to quit in times when you were fine all by yourself,
Why can’t everyone focus on their path in life? Is it too hard?
Does that sound impossible to you?
Just leave me and my life alone
I will carve my path as beautiful as i can
And with some bumps along the way,
I will create the most compelling work of art.
pcbzzzt Jun 2010
Father could reprogram all six billion of us
if He felt the  need, anytime
In fact that's exactly what He did
at Babel when our dodgy one-accord
threatened to bring the end nearer
than the six millenniums of earthtime
He'd allocated for us to seek His truth

He even re-wired Balak for a minute
to hear his donkey speak
and think of the Assyrians that fled
when He caused four lepers to sound
like a mighty mercenary army
coming to rescue Jerusalem
YHWH is omnipotent, like it not

The reason He's not 'interfering' right now
is simply because His plan is dead on time
He intends to blow the chaff from  His wheat
The true wheat, His remnant that stays faithful
(through Revelations and the mark)
will form a new constitution when Yeshua returns
for a thousand years of peace on earth

You may think "Oh I'll wait and see
if it's true, like, if the two witnesses
really die and then rise again in three days"
Problem with that approach is simple
You could be brainwashed before then
The neurophone is widely used today
Think of 911, why Bush isn't impeached
and read surveillanceissues.com

Those of us who really care
will continue to bug you and **** your spirit
Hopefully you'll make the right choice
and refuse the mark of the beast
Consider these things while there's time
'After me the storm' won't cut it
There are less than three short years to go


* Gen 6:3 And Jehovah said, My spirit shall not always strive with man, in his erring; he is flesh. Yet his days shall be a hundred and twenty years.
The 120 years referred to here in fact represent 120 jubilees, or 6000 years (2000 from Adam to the flood, 2000 from the flood to Yeshua and 2000 from Yeshua till 2017)
Audrey Jul 2014
I breathe in this silence that is not
Silenced,
Air alive with heartbeats and
Clocks ticking too slow,
Eyes meeting over
Sticky plastic tables,
Snapping away like an awkward blind date,
Fingertips drumming impatiently.
Wait.
Calm.
Be patient.
Tick...tock........tick...............tock

I can't, I won't, my son laying
One floor, 3 hallways, 12 rooms away,
But we are relegated to the hospital cafeteria as if my husband and I are naughty schoolchildren,
Interfering.
My red shirt crumples beneath
Nervous fingers,
The same shade as the blood given
To my son, not knowing it contained
Death.
Why can't I fight with my son,
My son,
Shining brightly and boldly as the sun,
Infected with a blood-borne killer we were never warned about.
Hemophilia is a tough diagnosis,
But my careful worrying wasn't enough to save him from a
Diagnosis of ostracism and certain death.
AIDS.
Oh God.
Breathe.
Can't breathe.
Time moves too fast, my son racing towards eternity
Alone.


White sheets and sterile beds rob
My son of all his sunshine,
Lips blue and pale like my husband's jacket,
Nothing but incessant beeping and bustling nurses who can't fix him,
Clock going tick, tock, tick, tock.
I see red.
Red dripping into and out of his arms through silver needles,
How do I know that this is safe,
No one knows if this is safe,
This is our only hope.


Tick..tock.....tick........tock.
White coat of the doctor moving too quickly towards us,
We run.
My heart thumping red and my stomach yellow bile and my eyes leaking blue.
Hospital room not room enough for all my emotions,
All of my tears,
All of my grief,
All his last breaths.
My son.
No longer my sunshine,
Just a pale winter afternoon,
No sun beneath cold sheets of snow.
My son.

Time moves too slow when everyone wears black,
Like molasses dripping from a jar into
Metallic air and earthy graves.
Like ash clouding out the sun.
My son.
No more my sun.
Based on the play "The Yellow Boat" by David Saar
Lux
Those who were marginalized by the braids and serpentine lights, devotions were made in San Juan allowing electromagnetic discharges from the imperceptible space-time of Vernarth's parapsychological quantum; alluding to clarities that achieved everything by having Patmia in the material and incorporeal from the start of the stained glass windows and archetypes by Transfer Quantum that burned the chins of hominids who believed to be immortal as if they were looking in this position for the direction between the eyebrows and the chin , for the Euclidean incidence crossing all the pools that are between quantum means of transfer of ions and cations. The oscillations of the sparkling field of consciousness of the containers were of ethical variables that became perpendicular to the space of draft or levitation of the designations that originated with accelerated electric charges on Patmos, developing albiceleste skylights over the harmonic equations as they elongated in proportions of quanta that They argued greater than those that circulated elliptically from Grikos to Skalá, and then to Profitis with assiduous progenitors of long-wave quanta. The magnificence of the halo became rectilinear up to the high altar that was atomized from the unskillful penumbra to reabsorb the inclinations of physical life in the Macedonians and the Achaemenides when they were trapped by the loss on the propagation of the Lux, which was imposed in hemicycles where they were they reclined to relax in the lux of rest of the path of the reasoning that made pederasty in the links with the minuscule obtuse lights, reeling from the clothing and its finite speed of what measures the ability to be undetermined in the margins of error of the antagonists when originating flow rates, greater in his dermis to regenerate towards any other that could be clothing of greater speed.

Thus was the scenario of dimensional magnitude between the powers that did not have contact, but their dimensionless energies on a surface that reached absorbent to the one that rectifies the concretive of the error that partially abused them. Their legacies would pass to a supplementary electromagnetic plane, separating their masses and retaking orientation from where they returned, where if the ideal of the final rational was refracted where everything would be vivid darkness. The obstacles classified them in the closure of the average height and the average surface, to then redirect to the maximum height and maximum surface propagating in irregularities of the Ego "Believing that they were never overcome in the diffuse perception of the metal mirror." The incident rays of the Lux would go to meet the multi-incident plane of the Mashiach, the wave angles were refracted throughout the sinuous law as radiosity passed over the greater mass that was normalized from the tangent that was projected 180 meters above the eyebrow. and Vernarth's chin, along with the recharged electromagnetic strengths of Alexander the Great's reactivation bezels, which at times seemed to levitate over the Lux's high frequencies and vary independently with its crowded functionalities, among scattered restraints that it presented to both weightless behind. from the decayed marble sawdust, separating from its phosphorescence that bounced between the rigging of solid surfaces and semi-solid ones, when realizing that the sea and the silica were confessed to the Pronoia of Delphi. Inducing Vernarth for the first time into a Pronoia versology on the Athena of Delphi, prompting them to separate from the world and it's holistic to divide into three portions of the dissociation of consciousness from the end of the Lux of Parapsychology, which had hosted them for centuries and centuries. . The Pronoia conspiracy systematized the reaction that would reunite them after this oracular parapsychology, making the adversaries believe that they were discrepancies of clinical parapsychology, equating warlike causes in the containment of Delphic neuroscience. From this quantification, the predominance of Vernarth's Lux de Pronoia was announced, linking peculiar segmentation of submit logical historicity in this work as a starting thesis, which speculates the same for those who have to make an analysis of historical dogmatic imperialism as a justification for mythological normality. The Lux thesis aimed to show that the dimensions of the mythology and the submitology, when exposed in physical quanta, made a tendency of irresolution in the abode of spiritual Tractatus reasoning and not in the instinctual one, which watches over recitals where history and its collective memory indicate outbursts of moderation. The role of the submithology  is to pretend that this normality is made close to the instruction after yours temporary for causes of your deep patrimonial, that makes them captives from the social complexity, with the disambiguation of certain criteria by maximizing the hidden truth of the ascending opposition forces that they have generated great conflagrations, intuition being the unreflective pseudo-reality with historical formalities that stumble into the terrified directionality of the myth that was to be reality. The tiny spaces of the verve left by the silent mechanics of the Persians became defensive when they saw their emissaries incoherently in the verticality of Allah when they saw that the confusing world with anxiety exaggerated predictions and failures invulnerability of a lineage that always had. been condemned to the desert.

Everything conspired with a Pronoia of siege, before the exegesis that sought purification and that was how they headed and misdirected their mistakes in the active train of the recess of their abstracted retreat, in a universe that also abandoned them after the subsequent train of Aurion waking them in their illusions with swords, and stealthy spears in dreams that specified safe rest. The ferocities of the proto-souls of assault carried away the translucent bodies of the Persians, and the Hellenes in acts of honor made such congenital paths of the understandable vocabulary that he did not speak. The prism was located in the cautious measure of its contractile dispersion with white separations of mantles, earth, and water scalded by dynamics that formed colorful activations with their withdrawal phenomena in the immaculate albino Lux that dissolved all of the facet optics that it made. Lux's great brain in the instant that the Thuellai airs transfigured the nuances of the Atros monastery, with objects that refused to be absorbed by the black hue, generating mechanical waves of equivalence in their identical interference that caused two opposing forces to distill the coherent differential that had to be overexposed in the category of historical Submitology. The two inverted waves separated, the Hellenes moaned and hiccupped for having to become identical when separating from their immaterial bodies, doing wonders that would house additional souls that would complement a transitory becoming towards the garden of the angels that provided them with identical beams of light, interfering in what animated the lights of pageantry, with the antithesis of interference where they resided in constancy knowing that they felt possessed of benefits of the eternal length of existence, but with pressures of mutable in some involuntary constancy and amplitude of having parallel directions with Saint John the Apostle and the Siblis. The phenomenon of polarization of both empires was denatured in a transverse way in all the electric fields after this feat, inciting unique fields of the pure and selective ascending ecosystem, which generated polaroid substances at the angle of ninety degrees above the browbones and chin of Vernarth, to approach the Pronoia of concatenation with Alexander the Great refracting unscathed hyper-vital and transcendent faces of infinity. Like any other phenomenon, the Lux crossed both bodies like two Xiphos swords that processed the electromagnetic valve, by iridium that converted with all the coarse Lux that crossed the succumbed immateriality and stopped the shaft and the nail that hang in the typology of electromagnetic radiation from the Hellenic world between them, making an ominous redemptive fire that was regimented to leave them both in the middle of a farm where there were farmyard animals, stockpiled pastures and a house that absorbed them as parents who would love them as beings of Lux. Thus, this primary parapsychological quantum network penetrated the level of the archangels that made them be together in planes of manumission, and that does not admit bi-quantum personality or bi-parapsychology that can cancel out the portent of the helmets and the lineage that does not dazzle if they are not made of iron.

The life of the other world began to be encompassed in all the Subtraigus beings that would correspond to the astral plane that was confirmed after the Kalidona Romantics deduced the Unicorn Uilef or Uilef Monókeros after Pronoia. Kalidona being an uninhabited island and the Uilef sleeps in between copulating with Spinalonga and Kolokythas along with other smaller islets, plus two hundred that will make up six islands of the twenty-six tetragram of Alef. Here Drestnia went with her consort of Etréstles from the Koumeterium of Messolonghi to find fateful encounters of Pantheism based on the majestic copulation of beauty, among twenty-six numbers that prevailed in virtuosos who took refuge in Kalydon or Kalidona, preparing for their rampage with grafted grotesque derived bodies of the Falangist Hellenes who were arranged of their musculature, so that they directed the finesse of the civility of Hesiod, Terpando, Archiloco, Baquílides, tragic like Etréstles, Aeschylus Sophocles, Euripides and comedian like Aristophanes.
Lux
judy smith Sep 2015
Photographers are up in arms this week over an online battle between a DJ and a wedding photographer. At the center of the controversy is the question of whether or not a DJ should be able to shoot and share wedding photos when the photographer has an exclusivity agreement with the bride and groom.

Photographer Carly Fuller and DJ Ken Rochon of Absolute Entertainment were both hired to offer their services at a wedding this past weekend. Fuller says that it was during the pre-ceremony that she noticed Rochon holding professional camera equipment.


“I love cross promotion but unfortunately no other professional company may take photographs during the event,” she tells PetaPixel. She says she offered to send her photos to Rochon after the wedding, but the DJ replied that he was taking his own photos for marketing and social media purposes.

Fuller says she was surprised at 9am the next morning to see Rochon’s photos posted in a Facebook album on the page for Rochon’s other business, The Umbrella Syndicate. The photographer then contacted the DJ to ask him to take the gallery down, since she was hired to be the sole professional photographer at the wedding.

Here’s the exclusivity clause that was in the contract signed by the bride and groom.

This agreement contains the entire understanding between Carly Fuller Photography and the CLIENT. It supersedes all prior and simultaneous agreements between the parties. It is understood Carly Fuller Photography is the exclusive official photographer retained to perform the photographic services requested on this Contract.

Rochon says he was indeed photographing at the wedding, but believes that this whole thing was a “huge misunderstanding.”

“Either the bride and groom didn’t know of the clause, or they knew and didn’t tell me,” he tells PetaPixel. “The client was the bride and groom, and the bride and groom never told me I couldn’t bring a camera. The photographer wasn’t my client, and I didn’t have a contract with the photographer. I do have the right to take pictures.”

“When she delivers the photos she shot, she’s still delivering what she was hired to deliver,” he adds.

Rochon says he shared 232 photos he captured from his DJ station as a gift to the bride and broom with the couple’s full knowledge.

After word of this dispute got out into photography circles, photographers began to come to Fuller’s defense, leaving angry comments on Rochon’s album and Facebook page.

As this controversy grew over social media, Fuller named it #weddingphotogate. Rochon launched his own campaign called “Freedom to Capture Love.” Here’s an open letter he published to Facebook yesterday:

Fuller denies that she has levied fines against the bride and groom, who are currently on their honeymoon, and accuses Rochon of slandering her company and business practices.

Fuller accuses Rochon of interfering with the “organic experience” of the couple’s day and confusing guests about who the photographer was by posing people and taking detail photos during the wedding (Rochon says he was almost always shooting from his position at his DJ booth).

“I have images of them holding the camera and photobombing my ceremony photos,” Fuller says, “minutes after I had asked them to put their camera away and I would send them images.”

“Wedding vendors are hired because of their experience, talent, and vision,” Fuller tells PetaPixel. “Each of us has a right to do our job and deliver the quality our clients expect. We have a right to be able to perform our duties without another professional interfering with the process. Another vendor’s marketing needs do not supersede those rights.”

Rochon argues that he has the right to shoot photos during weddings as well.

“Why is it only the photographer that can market the event? Pretty much the only way you can market on social media these days is photography,” he tells PetaPixel “Everyone has cameras at events these days. I have every right to capture that love.”

Fuller’s position is that other professional wedding vendors should respect the wedding photographer’s exclusivity agreement and stay away from shooting and sharing photos themselves. Rochon, on the other hand, believes that photography is a basic right that even other vendors should be able to use to serve clients and market services.

“I wasn’t trying to give photos to discount the work of the photographer. I was simply marketing my company and giving my vantage point as a gift to the couple,” Rochon says.

Fuller responds: “Going forward, I hope all vendors can embrace the idea that we all should just do what we were hired to do, and BRING IT! But only bring what makes our own profession rock, and what makes our service and product the best they can be. Let’s agree to stay out of each other’s jobs – we each were hired for a reason. Let each other shine.”

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/backless-formal-dresses

www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses
Traumeria Mar 2018
I just met you,
And we clicked instantly.
We've had our conversation, our silence
And we've also had our struggles,
Happiest moments.

We talked for a long time
Trying to know each other,
Yet not as deep as the blue
-ish Pacific ocean.

We only had the view of the
Waves of under our own sun,
But all the undiscovered corals
Remain hidden in their own bed,
Teal reflection of the
Sea.

At night,
Resting hour.
We sleep under the same stars
Knowing that at least one of us has a clear view of the satellites
Hovering
Breathless in space.
Various constellations can be determined.
Even a clear outline of the crescent moon,
Without storm clouds interfering our own worlds.

I don't know if
You're more than just a friend
Or in a completely different category as a partner in the long run.

You don't share your thoughts
Like I'm starting a conversation with myself
Only.

I'm all for
Saying the first word
Heading to the second stage,
Yet I value my friendships
As another has their heart
Ready for yours.

I'm not a fighter.
I don't want to waste my efforts if I lose.
I might drag myself down
Deeper than Lucifer's hell
Deeper than the core of the Earth
While trying to climb the highest mountain
Barefoot

It's exhausting

I want
I need
A balanced effort
From my sole partner
If they want me
To love them like I did

Since day 1.
andrew juma Dec 2015
Oh universe
How you sustain all lives
Is so marvellous

Mother Nature
You constant watcher
You are not a quitter

The seas know their space
The sun sets in the west
And never loses that course

The trees  cleanse the air
Herbs with sweet smelling fragrance
And wild honey tastes so sweet

Oh universe
How do you manage this
With so many of us?

The hogs eliminate snakes
The pests  feed on wastes
Vultures take care of  dead carcasses

We all look to you when we need food
You provide it
We eat it

Every one of your dependants
Know their expectations
In  selfregulation
The eater and the eaten

Life never ceases
It only changes form
Rotting plants become humus
And sustain growing plants

Edible animals become part of man
man's DNA lives on in their descendants...
And then man grew a few beards

With his advancements
Interfering with all others
Breaking laws
Creating disaters

In the eco
thick smokes of toxic
chemicals that destroy flora and fauna
Massive deforestation

and then he turns to you
expecting you to produce
When he ploughs your soils
Looking up to the clouds

You used to give a ****
But now you feed them back their poison
And their lives shorten

Retribution for being stubborn
And interfering with you
Mother nature

You heard them talking of space exploration
Look for life in another planet as solution
You just laughed

They think that they can destroy you
And leave for another planet
You are the only One

Blessed among the stars
To sustain lives
They will come running to you
Like the prodigal son

And maybe the rebellious
Shall have learnt a few lessons

Oh Universe
Its so fabulous
that you sustain all lives
Lets all conserve and preserve the environment,from it we derive.
Left Foot Poet Jul 2014
when together,
agreed this rule,
no devices
alighted,
no phones
incited

this is the rule of
us

lest we let the devices rule
us

thus interfering with our own
ignition*
interfering with our own
devices
Rose Lagran Apr 2016
The friendship we had is something i wish i had cherish from the start
I never knew the impact you made on my life until the day you left
You were there with me for everything
We would pull all nighters until 5 am
And play PC games and sleep over skype
You mend my soul when i was hurting
And i was able to cope countless heartbreaks because of you
You made me feel wanted, loved and happy
I wish you didn't let me go
I wish i could prevent what i did that made you not want me in your life anymore
As much as i want you in my life again
As much as i want to talk to you again so i don't have to think about you all the time
I know that you're happy without me
And i wouldn't want anyone or anything interfering with your happiness
You deserve the best for after all you have done for me
And I will never forget you for that
4.26.16
Left Foot Poet Jan 2019
"Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell: my blessing season this in thee!"
                                                          ­Polonius (Hamlet)
~~~
read these words in a past, as a punk teenager,
back in the mid-you-wouldn't-believe-it-flintztone-age
returned to them, nowadays
when I am seven by ten decades squared, older not wiser

three people told me
what a lucky man I am today,


Even before the noon hour dare arrive,
a shocking delivered by an electrocardio telegram,
thus instigating a product recall of Shakespeare’s blessing season,
drawn from a stale teenage memory storage fast depleting

"This above all: to thine ownself be true"
which denies the false escape
of being false to any human

ingesting this thrice lucky man observation
into the internal inward-facing telescoping observatory,
where I map the true course of the
star-stories
well held in the constellations of my life,
never forgetting that this holistic ecosystem that is my
mind~body must evaluate the truth of this claim

its veracity will differ when assayed by
the big toe of my left foot from whence the poetry comes,
as well as those other interfering guys,
body, mind, heart and soul,
then re-evaluated by the internecine warring of those whiny parts,
the tongue, the hands, the eyes saying me, me,
that perforce means a dynamic constant changing
of every thing

in other words,
thine own truths are fluidity ever changing,
the mapping of your blessings,
best done in pencil with room
for expansion, reversal, and misdirection

have I lost you dear reader?

My Left Foot squeals,
fools, you just hammered
three more nails in the coffin of his depression,
where woes and toes know the inevitable repetition of the troubles he has already deemed, and now foreseen are yet,
ladies in waiting to take him to the tower

My Mind says
in obvious aspects people, you are 100% correct,
but the Inquistors are not fooled, patient in their queries;
My Body simply asks, err, does that make me look fat?
My Souls defers with a yada yada, not my problem, deal with it...

The facts tranverse and reverse,
Ah, the truths of my blessings
As much confusing and last defusing

The little drummer boy marches me in reverse retreat,
while shouting out in time a marching refrain:

Luck can be stored, used then, never more,
Its algorithm, a lifetime calculation,
Woe is me, thrice, deemed lucky,
But the map of my blessing reveals my positioning,
At the map-edge I stand, the last border be just ahead,
Seasons, maps, blessings must stop to journey,
What others see upon me outward, outdated,
All maps, all blessings are black-line bounded,
So too, am I, bounded, confused and confounded

The algorithm computes my nine lives are now radium depleted,
The shell, the shell no longer can be fired,
Even the half life has evaporated, used,
Though it looks fit, the luck has eroded, the feet now touching
My map edged in black, its legend, of use, never more


November 2017
Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame!
The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,
And you are stay’d for.
There; my blessing with thee!

And these few precepts in thy memory
See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportioned thought his act.
Be thou familiar, but by no means ******.
Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatch’d, unfledged comrade.
Beware Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,
Bear’t that the opposed may beware of thee.
Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;
Take each man’s censure, but reserve thy judgment.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not express’d in fancy; rich, not gaudy;
For the apparel oft proclaims the man,
And they in France of the best rank and station
Are of a most select and generous chief in that.
Neither a borrower nor a lender be;
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.

This above all: to thine ownself be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell: my blessing season this in thee!
Specs Sep 2018
People communicate too much.
Their arms, their feet, their eyes, their hands.
Each one tells a story.
Each one differs, interfering and weighing the air down.
Then the mouth opens and words fly out,
A whirlwind of ideas, opinions, tumbling, spinning, whipping out.
So much noise.
A message here, a message there.
The noise is blinding.

Outside the garden is buzzing.
Not the droning buzz of conversation,
But the peaceful hum and sigh of nature.
The leaves wave as you walk.
Flower petals whisper to you, succinct words that don't rattle.
Ladybirds, bumblebees, humming birds hurtle and whisk around,
And best of all, the garden listens.
Molly O Feb 2013
Funny how the one you don't long for,
Can cling to you like a guilt ridden curse.
And yet the one that you do desire,
Seems to run from you like fire.

So please feel free to explain
The reasoning behind this wasted pain?
Why must one always want what they can't have?
When there are so many other options up for grabs

And why is this vicious circle so often repeated?
Can't our interfering emotions see that they're not needed?!

Or wanted, I must add..

Because what follows in every case,
is all too heartwrenching and sad..
Marian Jun 2014
Sixteen sweet years
Of pink promises kept
"I dos" and tender, gentle vows
Wedding rings of gold
A wedlock between two lovers
Trailing wedding veils of sheer lace
Love within a burning flame
Kept alive throughout the years
Hard times seen through together
Quarrels and misunderstandings
Even tiny little differences of opinions settled
Never interfering with the love you share
Your days of love will never end
You kept your promise ever since that day
When you both held hands and said fervently
And wholeheartedly "I do"
Then two hearts joined and became one

*~Marian~
Happy Anniversary, Dad & Mom!!! :) ~~~~~<3
This Poem Is Dedicated To My Parents...
Today (June 22, 2014) They Have Been Married
For Sixteen Years!! :) ~~~~<3
I Hope They Have A Golden Day!! :) ~~~~<3
Take A Bow, Mom & Dad!! :D ~~~~<3
I Love You Both So Much!!!
Happy Anniversary!!! ~~~~~~<3
Sarah Meow Apr 2012
To live is to research happiness
and homes for the pleasure of ending.
People, through illusions, can shape
happy possibilities from speech and position.

Don't write it out.

A life more useful than tragic
is original in a moment,
can transcend as well as
fall into mistakes and experiences.

To get your body to lean
as far forward over the
insurmountable bubble as possible,
Is to create magic that consists of gateways
and actions -- the outcome of which
can place a thinker with only few
leaps stranger than your enemies.

Always forgive.

Magic sometimes longer than a pause
between morality and naked minds
influences the two ways a relapse synapse will run.
The true temptation of safety can be
carpeted by play dough and play grounds.

It's better to not sustain interfering manufactors,
to not pirate the lies a man historically risks
on quality of thoughts,
But instead depend the nature of your virture
on exploration at the heart of echoes.

Why should you quit?

A human's greatest obstacle is finding the principles
we don't discover with the jailer listening and
men afraid to rock the boat.
Give better than you dare have.
Reset the age of the mind and give parallel
truths at the point of sweeping tides.

To understand the laws of popular drifting,
compromise the art of part establishing,
occupy an ambitious ideal;
You will lose an elevation over not being, not remembering.
Sometimes treading water becomes a nuisance,
and you'll lose a choice in the dungeon.

Don't abandon your force.
Don't regret the pursuit of circumstances.
Don't delude a reputation of bridges and evidence.

Empathy is traveling the world for imagination and salvation.
We are here for a spell; one equality
shreds the ears ready to get you in trouble.
K Apr 2013
Children of Gallifrey, the children of gods
Who were destined for greatness
Fate laid out in the stars
Lords and Ladies of Time
Hands in the fabric of reality
Theirs to push and pull
Change and preserve
Life and death, mere trifle and whim
Immortality
Insanity
Minds warped with power
Who were fearful of change
Pompous and arrogant patrollers of time
Making laws of fear and oppression
Jealous and Bitter
They would rather **** than share
No interfering, no helping, no hurting
All the time in the Universe
But no time at all
Betrayal and Pain
Secrets and lies
Starving Souls, robbing trust
Storm Clouds are breaking
Time is at an end
The world will burn
Though it died long ago
When ambition
And lies
Strangled the children of Gallifrey
Sealing their demise in the books of time
Mariam Paracha Jul 2012
Breathe in the freshness
of the arduously picked commodity,
That you hold between your lacquered fingers.
Don’t let synthetic ingredients
dissolve your thoughts
and obscure your vision.

The liquid remedy we sip  is drenched,
With pain and protracted nurturing
Carefully fostered
through inclement weather
drink in the story that comes with it
That fuels caffeinated conversations.
Refined and defined leaving us blind
to the painted secrets of lives that were once lead
different lives intersect,
different thoughts and opinions interject.

Leaving lipstick kisses on the porcelain skin
Sipping away worries and pain.
Inhaling the smell of impelling advice,
fragments of sugar coated anecdotes melt,
integrating within, interfering
with the raw, strong, sharp taste
that can pierce through.

the rare intense, earthy aftertaste
is tainted with artificial garnishing,
suffocating the fresh natural essence
neatly contained in the teacup
ready to serve and ready to present
taking shape of the porcelain guise

Don’t sprinkle it with processed collaborations
of sugared doubt,
Contaminating your imagination
Manipulated by dainty voices
Resonating in your head
Like the delicate teacup
You anchor with your soft hands
Weighed down by the overly sweetened tea.
No longer holding significance
of the vast fresh fields it sprouted from
Forgotten and drowned
in the voices of someone else’s drum beat.
cloudy vision reflected in the saturated tonic
you sip elegantly, pasting a smile
suppressing your own desires,
under someone else's acceptance.
The Non-Interference Principle states:
One should refrain from interfering with the personal choice to consume or reject a substance.

The Prime Directive states:
One should advocate for spiritual development, one cannot advocate for that which they have no prior experience with or adequate knowledge of.
Both statements are applicable/in reference to all compounds which pass the blood-brain barrier, including but not limited to psychoactives/psychotropics.
Only exceptional medical circumstances provide any grounds for exemption from these statements.
I was too immature and innocent to recognize the constant pain I was in.
I ignored it; I thought it natural and normal.
It was something you just didn't discuss.
But you can't hold it in forever.
I grew up and so did my pain.
I remember the first time I felt a ridiculous amount of it.
Anger, resentment, confusion, sorrow, guilt. Especially guilt.
When you disregard something like that for so long...
how are you supposed to react when it hits you?
It changed close to everything I had decided about myself.
All my plans and dreams and ideas and opinions, I questioned it all.
I realized what I had done and who others really were.
I realized how alone I was and why I had always felt that way.
Once I stopped ignoring it I began to learn to deal with it.
Some days I found it harder than others.
Pain is an odd thing. You know it's bad and you don't always initially like it. But it's addictive and eventually you don't want anything else interfering. You get used to it.
Sad people think sad thoughts and listen to sad music and read sad books and love sad people.
Pain loves pain.
I don't know how
To get her home,
Or if she has one...
Does 𝘴𝘩𝘦 even know?

If I reached out my hand,
Would she even pull?

She's been making herself larger.
I can feel her reappearance.
She gets brighter, I get darker.
Interfering with my impulse,
And it happened again...

I forgot how I got here,
Don't where I began.

▪︎ mica light ▪︎
Sayan Sen Oct 2014
The streets are empty.
Stars are shy.
I am accompanied by
Streetlights
and
Overcast sky.
Just me and my constant
Melancholy being fritted.
Remembering old days
And the dreams we knitted
I stare at the skyline
Spread ahead, then disappearing.
It's just my fear of infinite
That is interfering.
         ~ Sayan Sen
In his head
A small factory
Producing
Packages of wisdom
Personnel
Cooperating
With unprecedented brilliance
The observers
The processors
The creators
All contributing
To a brand new theory
Unfortunately
The packages
Won’t be sent
The fear
Of incompleteness
Interfering with development

Oh logician
If the world could only
Feel
Your passion
Behold
Your creativity
Your theories
Would dominate the world
To all the logicians and their genius theories
v V v Jan 2017
I never really felt as if
my mother had it all together.  
Her torch was
a brittle twig she couldn’t keep lit,
never enough stick to burn bright,
but just enough tip
for random flare-ups
violently fueled by
nobody knew what.

Her lack of light meant
she could not be trusted,
and her strained attempts at
love and affection felt like
a dream where
everyone’s speaking Japanese.

Her marriage to my father was
the modern day equivalent
of an interracial same *** marriage,
Catholics and Protestants
weren't supposed to mix,
and a toothless trumpet player
with an alcoholic bent
shouldn’t have lasted the honeymoon
with a spoiled, sheltered oldest child.

But father made it seem as if
they had it all together,
at least in public.
At home it was different,
he passed through our lives
like the winter wind,
everybody scrambling for cover
when he showed up.

He slept at odd hours
and worked and drank
and drank and worked,
blowing quickly from one
to the other, 
never standing still long enough
to notice the demons at his heals,
the demons that took forever to catch him,

but not mother.
They caught her when I was quite young.
I could see them in her eyes
from a very early age and
father could see them too,
but he did nothing
to protect her.

They’ve been together
over 60 years now, overrun by what
I would call a thick purple nothingness
an eerie, detached existence within
the smothering cadence of monotony,
yet somehow, unbelievably,
they still have hope.

Hope for God knows what

all they have is their
unspoken hatred of each
wrapped up in a make believe
so strong and lived so long
that their demons are now
a huge white elephant
lounging about the house
loosening their bed screws,
pounding on the bed springs,
moving through the vents
and interfering with
the reception of Catholic radio.

You might call it insanity,

I say everything that
once mattered to them is lost,
yet again,
they still have hope.

Meanwhile
we overachieving children
suffer our own maladies,
a misfit bunch of
dysfunctional lovers running so fast
we’ll be 80 before the demons catch us.

But who am I kidding?
From father to mother to me,
their demons have been my closest friends
as long as I can remember,

ever since the first day
I saw them in her eyes.
onlylovepoetry Feb 2020
this silence of love is flawless
no interfering words necessary deemed,
sound without sound, no entry crack visible,
a great plain, a continental ocean, no horizon given,
this then the perfect diamond of humankind,
the glance cross a room, the grazing ******* upon a cheek,
the succinct serenity of perfect, this I grant you
Nat Lipstadt Mar 2015
"Oh, murmur, murmur me again to peace!"

(from the libretto of Handel's Semele -
opera.stanford.edu/iu/libretti/semele.htm)

think of your ears as an
ever alert, high pitched,
sensory tuning fork,
an aural radar, searching for that
acute, oblique,
perforating and poking phrase,
that lost airplane of solace
buried and too well hid
in the vastness of
empty, characterless searchable seas
that rarely yield up their
comforting finery

when discovered, tripped upon,
instant recognition pleads

"write me down,
write me up,
delve me,
determine me,
make me more!"

t'is a thrumming vibrato
interfering with mind,
that phrase, that phrase, that phrase

"Oh, murmur, murmur me again to peace!"

content coursing through the eyes,
piercing veils of hum drum dumbing down,
a life spying drone eliciting excitedly
a high value target,
an unexpected mission,
camouflaged amidst the
chit chat droning of the
choking ordinary and commonplace

murmur me, with soft downy charms,
these words discovered
recoursed and intended well to
pointedly offset and contradict
their very own
tumultuous discovery uncovering,
tear tongue me
with calming, lapping word wages,
hymns harmonious and fine homilies,
a call, a request,
a bequest
to sedate my shrill life,

You

murmur me again to peace


even the words
be prepared to sacrifice, surrender,
but promise me that
the Justice of

-just-

thy tone,
thy inflections,
will gentle
the infecting turbulence
of being a plain, tried and trialed human

let me not
catalogue the onerous,
the burdening barbell weights,
we carry for no purpose

Give us
our daily bread of a singular
phrase~prayer~poem,**
our verbal bond, modest sequest,
honey oatmeal, cut up strawberried
jewel,
give it, me this day,
my daily soothing

"Oh, murmur, murmur me again to peace!"
Patrick N Jan 2015
The garden grows in all directions
Amidst the influence of interfering hands
The waterfall in motion is ceaseless,
Whether asked kindly or implored

Made powerless by that which cannot be changed
Yet, made powerful by knowing that which cannot be changed

The garden grows in all directions
Gardened by our hands
The water falls around us
In the spaces that we created
Haley Jan 2014
If
we were
blind, there would
be no crime committed.

There
would be
no jealousy or
envy, but instead equality.

Love
would be
easier to find,
without looks and ego
interfering all the god ****** time.

Instead
of looking
at people's appearance,
we'd learn to love their thoughts,
their voice; their soft touch against our skin.

Life
would be
simple, if we
could not see. We would finally
have the chance to be
*happy.
Tammy,Tammy,call your mammy
daddy's run away.

Buildings built of stilton cheese and Wilton rugs,bugs that run round in my head,silver diamond ten gauge thread to tie my eyes up.
Tea leaves tell no lies,
I've seen them in a broken cup where broken people all look up to watch me fall.
I call the Master of Ceremonies,also made of Stilton cheese,eaten slowly by the mice,made from chocolate covered rice cake crisps and baked in ovens,gas mark seven and ask him,
where did daddy go?
he doesn't know and never did and slowly drops off from the grid,
in hidden thoughts behind veiled red eyes where riots run with teddy boys,who ride Italian imported scooter bikes,
twenty thousand Facebook likes for what,
a **** *** underneath the bed?
more bugs that run wild in my head,
another silver,sugar coated thread to wrap me in when I am dead,
but I'm not there yet
I've got to shift the fuzziness,the interfering laziness,be blessed twice by his Holiness,undress the dressings I am wrapped in,bleach my skin and reach inside to clear my mind.
For days I've been unable to write poetry and someone told me I should just write something...

This is me writing 'something'.
I hate writing about this situation but I'm purging.

Lol, all I wanted was mutuality but even in the brightest of times, it was mission impossible. Seems a bit foolish of me to have invested basically my all into someone so ...transparent. The lies and deception dripping like wet paint off of her giving the reflection of a colored person was visible to everyone but me ...to me she was still transparent. From the start, I made a promise to myself never to succumb to any negative forces interfering with what was supposed to be a 'Nirvana'. I still remember the tedious efforts of sneaking to her window. I still remember everything we did and her lips still feel close to mine ...for now. My retrogression occurs once again. Tomorrow, her name will no longer be locked onto my tongue, no longer stitched onto my heart. Instead, her name will do nothing but damage what was once whole but it's fine because tomorrow there'll be another. Tomorrow your name will be '****** from my lips ensuring it never comes back up'. Tomorrow, what was once so sacred between us won't be so sacred. Tomorrow it begins; tomorrow I regress.

You see,  I'm no dummy. Somewhere between the lines of
loving me too little
and
not loving me at all,
you found a bucket of lies with my name on it and you fed em to me until  even you succumbed to the deception. Luckily, you caught yourself so can I really blame you for what you did?
You say I play the 'victim'? I am a 'victim'.
a victim of being cheated on, lied to, played and rode like the donkey jesus sat on lol ...just a little humor to ease the level of despondency.
im a victim of tragedy.

Do you even know how it feels to be so happily in love with someone? so confident that someone is yours just yours and then watch that person willingly get swept off their feet and out of your life? never have i ever felt so confident that someone was mine and all mine, someone i could love and trust...
You won't ever understand how I felt that night.
...sitting there with the biggest smile on my face and the warmest heart ...then your neck.
I didn't just see a 'purple bloom' my dearest love. I saw my life flash before my eyes, I knew you were no longer mine for on your neck you were branded and you walked proudly with it. With your branded neck you stood there proudly and confident in yourself. ****, i hate you. you stood there smiling a smile that was no longer just for me. You stood there and kissed my cheek...if only I had known the devaluation of that kiss. You held my hands but if only I knew that those hands were not too long ago wrapped around and lustfully attached to another.

Although my way of getting over you isn't right, I'm **** sure it'll work. You want me to share you. That's what you want and I should've expected it from the 'first occurrence'. You want to be in the middle and who am I to judge? I'm just stuck, maybe? I'm no fool. I've done my wrongs and I've kept my secrets from you but in no way have I came remotely close to doing this to you. I stood by you through every hurricane, sheltering you. How is it that it's so easy for you to be apart from me? All I wanted was to be secure but you're so immature and can't even secure yourself, check your wrists.

I sincerely wish you the best. Disregarding all my bitter thoughts, I do hope you're happy.
I wrote this from January after my break-up and kept it Unlisted but in the most non-disrespectful way, it's lost its 'weight'.
Sam Temple Apr 2014
crassly clashing
diametric opposites
seething hostility paints tar-stained walls
coated against cold indifference
interfering ideologies cause pause
cryptic clauses calculate circumstance
vs.
significance
symbiotic relationships deteriorate
puddles of love remains…unwashed
free-flowing determination
wrestles mindlessly
paraphrasing haphazardly
seeking direction
K Balachandran May 2013
Stately stone mountain's pride,
steep granite peak, seat of vultures,
single lush tree uniquely shaped by winds,
stand atop like a mysterious symbol,
big, round, purple sun, in poetic candor,
like enlightenment, rises behind it;
a sight words can't contain.

Far far down,
in the middle of the grappling green,
the blue jewel, a lake in meditation,
hidden in the thickets, hanging down
in to the water plane, cunning eyes
in hundreds, of black-spotted wild alligators.

A doe and her fawn,
stand at the edge of the lake, driven by thirst,
her both ears perked up listening,
before stepping in to the water to see,
if everything is in order.

Nature, mother kindness
stand guard to all her children,
non interfering,
what now will happen
depends upon  laws
governed by karma,
decided by the action that triggered
the sequence, long back
and not easy to discern.
*Remembering the venue of Buddha's sermon"Lotus sutra"---
unity of all things and beings unmanifested beyond existence or non existence, unbound by time and space.Lotus sutra says all beings have the potential to awaken to their true nature and attain buddhahood.
Theresa M Rose Mar 2022
This is what Dale Yeager- CEO "SERAPH -
The Problem Solving Company"
Says, There’s No Crime Here.
What do you think?

This man I want to help is my son’s father; we were many years out of touch with one another due to many reasons well beyond this situation; but it should be noted that this woman, the one in this, has had much to do with why he and I were not with one-other after 1991 and why the two of us are still not together today she’s also the reason he’s been out of touch with most of his family.
It’s in the later part of 2018 I found out about things which has have been going so wrong in his life. I have been in touch with his family but I always kept them off from talking of this man’s life to me; one day I was told of this man’s brake from his wonderfully close bonded family. They have learned recently his health has suddenly been doing quite poorly; one member even said they’re fearing this woman was setting to rid herself of him; I told them I’ve seen the Philly News about their boy, I didn’t think that boy did what was being said about him, not at all, and I’m going to look into it and see what I could find; and, this is what I found.
Within 5 years 6 months 19 days, from the day the words “I do” left this man’s mouth this woman has isolated him from most of his family and all of his friends, she places herself as his wife onto the deed of his house on March 12th.1993 a full 1 yr, 7 months, 16 days before their said wedding date; First thing being first is the actions and timing of the wedding; she tells his family to come on down, on October 28th.1994, for a big Halloween shindig?! Only once his family arrives they were then told one of the guest, a woman, was the mayor of their town and she’s to officiate on this day, it’s going to be their wedding day?! I looked up the Mayor of their town during that time and the mayor there was a man, a man who as of 2019 is still the mayor down there. His family was understandably perturbed, to say the least. not being told beforehand of it being a wedding as some hadn’t gone thinking it was nothing more than a Halloween gathering. This woman has had this man go through a chapter 7 in 18 and ½ months, a chapter 13 in just shy of 2 yrs, 2 months of that and then once again he’s gone right back into a chapter 7 in only 2 years 2 months, 17 days later??? She convinces this man to sign away his house, the home he has had built from blueprints, over to her first husband; her first husband who has by this time already been moved right into the house to live with them; Seven years afterwards this woman gets herself replaced onto the deed as an unmarried woman along with her first husband as an unmarried man who does all this 7 years, 10 months, 23 days to the day he took it away from Joe and without any financial considerations from her what so ever she’s on the deed as a single, unmarried, woman?!
How did a man with near $200,000, Bankable dollars who has had the ability to with straight-up with cash buying land and having his house built and having his very close family with his two brothers and a sister and so many loving friends, many of those held since grammar school, how could a man such as this man go from “I do” to having no body, no family, no friends, being $230,000 into debt and having to sign over the home he had built and having, now, to having to sign it over to her ex-husband all so you could have a roof kept over the heads of those you see as the only family you have left in this world. All of this has been done to this man, to a good man, all within 5 years 6 months 19 days; I also found even more way more deepening financial troubles down the road for him. I also found a fourth bankruptcy court case set in 2014 in Joe’s name for a foreclosure; a case on the house he no-longer even owns and he hasn’t owned one percent of it since May 11th. 1999?! How this could be done, is for the life of me, I do not understand??? At this point in time, this man is well over a half a million dollars in debt?!

In late September of 2019, I mailed him an Acknowledgment of Paternity form with the DNA testing office information to my son’s father so he could have all the test-work done. Then in November, I went down to see him after I had my book published; I gave him a copy; this is the first time I spoken to this man in decades. I wanted to tell him all that I learned about her and find-out what the hell was going on straight from him; but, I couldn’t. When I saw a medical-contraption strapped onto his chest, attached to his heart?! I just told him he needed to come home where he belongs. Joe said to me he had nothing to give to the boy?! I told him, I already knew that but I’ll be here to take care of him in any way he needs.
He said, he wouldn’t, he couldn’t;” I made bad choices.” He tells me, now, he could never leave from where he’s living no matter… his words,” No choice.” He seemed frightened. I couldn’t tell or question him i couldn't say anything further about anything knowing his health was so uncertain.
After his surgery, while he was still in recovery, we were talking on the phone with when he saw them coming down the hall; He said, “My family’s here and he hung-up. Time passed, he was out the hospital, I tried calling him but when I dialed his phone it said the number has been disconnected?!
On February 23, 2020, at 6:33 pm. there was a message I found which was sent on my face-book account it was sent this woman saying, “…happy he will be where he should have many years ago. It’s time he’s yours.”
I waited a while and asked a family member and I was told his phone number hasn’t changed?! Calling from a different phone he picks-up but as he hears my voice the phone went click.

Looking into his so-called wife’s actions, I seen markers of illegal activities far beyond those I thought I would. Beside his home this man’s name was attached to many homes not only in his town but on his block?!  It wasn’t as if he owned all of block 44 of his town nor has the paperwork to these lots make it into a true-file at their County Clerk’s office; one of the most important functions of a County Clerk’s office is the recording of all the legal documents associated with the properties and during the time his name was on his deed 22 files which were claimed filed but had no paperwork to show… whole files were missing from records and this wasn’t happening prior to his arrival to these town nor any time after signing away his house to her first husband?! I had also found this woman and her first husband have been living well beyond their means; they’ve been traveling on multiannual cruises together and they’ve even been paying for others to go traveling with them. The first husband himself is the owner of two rather large sized boats and both of them have been jetting-setting off on many out of town trips together all year long, leaving Joe to stay as the caretaker for her two children; this woman’s first husband is a. retired, Riker’s corrections officer and he’s not a man from a family of financial means?!

I started gathering the names of the others on these filings where Joe’s name appeared, I found they’re all of people living on that 44 block, all of them; and her first husband’s name was also in on this list 2 times, twice, before he was ever signed over onto this house, before and without, any file to show?! His name on 3/2/99 and 5/11/99; she had his house signed over her first husband on that day, Happy Mother’s Day?! Then, I looked up first husband’s name on the property and found a third empty file posted for a SUPERIOR MORTGAGE also being filed on 5/11/99

Those words after his surgery, “My family’s here…” was eating me up inside.

I see all this as well as knowing the idea of his needing to have even more surgery and knowing just what it took for her to get this man in the first place by September 23th. 2020 I was beyond the ability to say nothing anymore until his health was better; I called him up from my landline and told him just what she had tried to do back in 1991; how this female inside a little beige hatchback tried to run over my child and he calls her his family; I let him know just how much it was she who was interfering with our relationship back then; I knew she was right there hearing everything I was telling him, I didn’t give a care about it; But, I didn’t want to let her know everything I have learned about how it is that he’s not owning his house anymore. He told me he’ll be in touch with me… and we ended our call. On October 1,2020  while researching and printing out more information on just how I think this female ,Puttana, did what she did… I came across this new file in his name?! It was for a UCC1!? What? How could he be filing this without holding ownership on this house? I began looking into and watching files on this company; from that day ‘til after I hired Dale Yeager, there has been 23 files from this company for UCC1’s for block 44 alone and only four others within their whole township?! 23 out of 27 and 23 all from on the same block, nothing off about that and one of those names are of a man who’s not even a property owner and has not been one in 21 yrs.?! I did make a much wider search on this company itself but we’re only looking at this Joe’s block here and now. This company began showing files here for this whole town back in 2019 and to date they have filed only 40 files all together in this town and 30 of them are from block 44 and, FYI, only seven files were from before 10/01/2020 Dale Yeager says there is nothing off???
I also began seeing other things as well; I began seeing mortgage flipping going on here, where people were selling and buying their own homes over and over and then they’re paying off those 30 yr. mortgages within 5yrs and many of these even underneath a two years, on a 30 yr. mortgage?! And those people doing this were using the same clearinghouse?! All these are earmarks of money being funneled; this begins just after 1999 and there seems to be a line-up connection to these two’s traveling itinerary. But Dale at the end of his day says there’s nothing there; he wasn’t saying that when I first show these to him.
I hired Dale Yeager CEO of Seraph through bark.com, on April 10th. 2021 It was through an Email titled; It's about Husband-abuse. I gave him all my information and of what it is this investigation was about and I told him I was hiring him to help me to look into Lynn and her first husband; by this point I wasn’t sure if she even ever divorced herself from her first husband and she could have merely tricked everybody in his family as well and it wasn’t just him with that Halloween wedding. I sent Dale two different background checks for each of them; for Lynn, this woman, for,Kevin, her first husband, and for the one who is to believed to be second husband, Joe; … none of these shown marriages or divorcing information. I gave Dale all his family’s information so he could call them all to gather up what information he would need to help Joe; with a long list of everybody’s websites. I hadn’t much to give about the first husband other than his job, where he lived when she was known married to him and the year she married him.  I did have and I gave Dale all of Lynn’s information for where she lived before, It was a complete background back to her grammar school days when she lived on 65th. Street and all her brothers and sister information, I knew her and her family growing up. I was only vague about what I knew on her husband Kevin’s.

When I received Dale’s first report, it was wrong; it was on some man with Joe’s middle name and his last name, it’s not on the first husband’s name at all?! I told Dale the name on this report is wrong and Dale told me that I was wrong??? We argued about this but then Dale says to me it must be an AKA the first husband was using and just push through the questionnaire and it will make sense as the investigation moves along; the second report was on her and even this report had not made any sense to me at all; it was saying that information I know to be positively true was fraudulent; and again Dale tells me I’m not correct and that all his information was checked and was accurate information; his words,”… we have direct access to the records so we can have verified data for you!” I should just get through the questionnaire and it’ll become clear! It was clear to me this man kind of an ***… I grew up knowing about this girl and her family; her parents were friends with my mother and I’ve been inside their house on 65st. as a kid?!  Dale tells me I’m wrong??? And now he’s saying to take info I find and put them into these grid-sheets? It’s busy-work. I asked him again about the first husband’s name not being in the reports. I knew, once I hired an investigator time wouldn’t be on my side because it’ll known fast; I’ve been being monitored ever since my book’s been out and sent Joe those Paternity papers. I had to get the work done fast or they’ll cover their tracks. It’s been eleven days and all I needed most from Dale is of her marital status-proof with these two men everything else of illegal activities I’ve given to Dale in those three full mailers I sent are anywhere near as important?!
I wrote to Dale later that night, I just found out that Lynn and Kevin just returned back from another trip down to Florida, why they or anyone our age would go down there during Spring-Break is anyone’s guess; It worries me to think the kind of danger Joe is in right now... they both have and given Joe Covid; all three have went into hospital?! Joe was sent home as I’ve been told, Lynn maybe back home as of the time I’m writing you this, Dale but as far as for Kevin he was being placed into a room; At least Joe was able to go back home right away with it being a mild case but I would think this will put off his needed surgery for a while. I do hope Kevin makes a full recovery; I’d prefer him in jail than in hell for what the two of them have done to Joe.

On May 8th.6:40pm. Kevin’s dead, he died tonight; this is what I Emailed Dale.
Next morning Dale sends to me, ‘Thank you for this update.’ As cold, as silence itself.
This man is dead and… ‘Thank you for this update.’
I started working harder to gain as much information as I could gather; I fear, now, with Kevin's death Lynn's going to turn all her sights back towards Joe telling him, he's her husband: and, he has a duty to be there for her... by her side.
With Joe not knowing what we’ve been learning about who knows… Now, she's alone, who knows what is going on inside her mind.
I hope we can find and have everything we need very soon.

June 11th. I sent Dale an Email; Hello Dale I'm wondering what's going on with the files I sent you and the work on Kevin? Dale, are you seeing the same as I within those files I sent?  
The same day Dale wrote back…; Theresa; Yes, I am and the data was shared with the team. We are waiting for the financial accounts data. Dale
When next Dale and I spoke it was June 22nd. I sent the third box full of files completely fixed to him.
Email; Hello Dale; I sent you a package you should get it today; Please let me know when you get this; I fixed all the files in a mortgage, discharge, names of party and the block and lot numbers of property’s order. Hope they are useful for you.

Twelve hours later I get an Email; Theresa, I received the package and will review asap. Dale

Next thing I heard from Dale, Mon, Jul 5, 2021 11:15 am; Theresa good morning. Everything we could find and verify is in the last updated report we submitted. The next step is the POA. We will have that to you this week. Dale
This seems off?! The next time from Dale was Tue, Jul 13, 2021 3:00 pm Theresa; attached is the next update please review and email back your answers to our questions. Dale
Now, again Dale sends a report for the wrong person; a person who has my son’s father’s middle name and his last name?! This one also has her first husband’s name on it but Dale said he was sending a POA Report; what happened? At this point I don’t know what to think; I feel as if I’m being placed onto a treadmill?! I don’t have the ability to do this search on Kevin I can’t go any steps further then I already have... I gave Dale everything I could; and I told him this; He says ...Just to do it.
It has been since that night, September 23,2020, I last spoke with Joe; and it’s now been more than 8 months of continuously searching and working on this thing;  and during this I’m finding way more than I ever wanted to know about  what this poor man has had to endure during these past three decades; if only I were a stronger person back then before she got her hooks into him his life would have been so much different than all this...
But as for, Dale Yeager’s actions with this investigation; he has been with complete unprofessionalism, I think he’s a crook.
What do you think? Do you see a crime, here? I need reader's feedback on this as if you realizing the story is about you and this was your life in a nutshell.
L Smida Jan 2012
As you drag me by the neck of my shirt and throw me into the dark room, I fall against the cold floor.  Sitting on my knees, I look up to see what’s going to happen.  My eyes search through the darkness that fills the room and I set my sight toward the door of which I entered.  I see only a silhouette of a body standing in the doorway.  With only soft whispers of the people outside the room, all of a sudden the shadows in the room slowly dance away as the door closes.  The room appears much darker now that there is not a single light to be found.  Feeling as if I’m a blind creature caged in with no where to go, my knowledge tells me that there’s not much to do but remain calm and set my mind free to roam in its own direction for a while.  My mind ventures off into a great mystical paradise of waterfalls surrounding the area.  So many different colors illuminate the views around me.  Among the floating mist in the air coming from the water splashes, there appears to be rainbows in the distance.  The waterfall in the middle looks to be the tallest of them all.  As I approach the tall rock with water flowing over it, I begin to ponder upon the entry way behind the falling water.  I can’t help but imagine where it leads to?  I study the currents in the water to make sure I don’t slip and fall on the slippery surfaces of the rocks.  I peer into the entrance as if I could see something on the other side.  I couldn’t tell if it was my mind playing tricks on me or if I was actually seeing something.  I see an unknown light far into the dark tunnel.  My mind is set for adventure and I won’t let anything get in my way.  I try to take a punctilious step forward but I fail miserably. My clumsiness guides me to fall into a deep dangerous hole.  Falling far and long, as I hit the ground, like any ordinary person, the first thought in my head is "Where am I?"  I glance around and there it is.  The light I saw before falling into this deep ditch.  I stand up and got an unbearable whirling feeling in my head.  I put my arm out to catch myself.  Hand against the cold wall of the cave, I regain my sight and the dizziness disappears within seconds.  I follow the light because it seems that there’s no where else to go.  The light is coming from a very shiny flat surface.  As I go to touch it, my hand goes right through.  My mind is curious to know what could possibly be on the other side.  I pull my hand back through and it comes out wet.  There’s water on the other side of this bubble type surface.  I ask myself, "Will I be able to breathe on the other side if I decide to go through?"  So I think that if I peak my head through just to see how far the water seems to go, maybe I can go through and find air above it.  I take a deep breath, I plunge into the surface and I smoothly go through.  The water is only a few inches deep.  I look around and I see a road.  I seem to be coming up out of a puddle in the middle of the pavement.  When I climb the rest of the way through, I notice that I am drenched head to toe with water.  What would you do if you saw a girl climbing out of a puddle that’s only a few inches deep?  I know.  Science doesn’t explain this one.  In this anonymous town, I tend to wonder about the people here.  Searching desperately for a familiar face, without a doubt in my mind, I look across the street to lay my eyes on a coffee shop.  It sticks out from every other building even though it’s very tiny.  The brick that it’s made out of is new and bright.  Compared to the rest of the town, it looks to be the newest shop around.  I make my way over and my nose is enjoying the pleasant smells arousing in the air.  The closer I get the stronger the smells become.  I open the door and the little bell on the handle lets everyone in the room know that I am entering.  Looking up at the menu behind the counter, I analyze the different choices.  I try to decide what to choose but there are so many things to choose from.  Before I even go to order, I have to make sure I have something to pay with.  I put my hand into my front pocket and pull out a soggy crinkled five dollar bill that I never even knew was there.  Luck?  I approach the cashier and he asks me what I would like to order.  I look at him and say, "The best thing you got."  He gives me an awkward stare which tells me that he’s thinking about what to make for me.  He smiles.  Then he takes the money out of my hand, turns around and starts working on my order.  After he finishes, he hands me my drink that smells absolutely divine and I head toward a booth over near the window.  I decide to make myself as comfortable as possible in the red shiny booth.  Wet jeans aren’t too easy to get comfortable in though, but I’ll deal with it.  I put the cup close to my lips as if I’m going to take a sip, but as I look up my mind stops.  Everything pauses as my mind forces itself to think.  A familiar face?  Do I know this person whom is sitting two booths across from me?  It sure seems like I know her from somewhere but I don't recall any retained mental impressions of her at all.  I notice that she’s alone.  As our eyes meet, my heart tends to beat louder with every thought that flows gently through my mind.  I pull the cup away from my lips because it is too hot to drink anyways and I make my way over to her table.  I ask her if it would be okay for me to join her.  She nods her head up and down.  As I go to sit down, I stumble upon my own two feet and spill my drink all over myself.  With my nerves all in knots, I look over at her and she’s sitting there giggling to herself.  She gives me a look and her eyes tell me to relax.  While I’m cleaning up my mess, she asks, "Why are you all wet?"  I know I should be honest, so I tell her exactly what happened regardless if she chooses to believe me or not.  I stand up and as I tell the dramatic part of the story, I swing my arms back and I hit a person walking past me with a tray full of food.  Of course, everything goes everywhere all over the floor.  All my mistakes are leading me nowhere.  She takes my hand and sits me down across from her.  She whispers, “Forget about everything that just happened.”   With everything going wrong, I have many doubts in my head that are telling me that this girl is not liking it one bit.  My doubts are getting stronger as I keep knocking things over.  I’m about to give up but she quickly rushes through my thoughts, pushes through my doubt, and grabs me by the front of my shirt.  Pulling me towards herself, I feel her soft lips touch mine.  I feel like I’m floating on clouds.  All my thoughts change in an instant.  Every doubt that accumulated in my head has now vanished.  After we let away from each other, I try to hold her as tight and as close as possible without letting go.  Except there’s commotion that’s interfering with my thoughts.  I don’t ever want to let go but when I open my eyes, I am sitting on the cold ground of a dark room where I started hugging nothing but air.  How could a person go from feeling like they're on top of the world breathing the best air, to feeling like there’s not even enough oxygen to inhale to fill one of my lungs?  I guess I must have traveled too high of an altitude?  The thought of her brings clashing emotions to my heart.  I feel completely lost and incredibly lonely, because she isn't here.  Yet I have the capability to remember her soft gently touch and I can actually feel her here with me which makes me feel not as lonely.  I remember her hug and I can visualize her warm smile.  But what really keeps me going are those eyes I remember so well.  Green diamonds in the morning, blue pools by night.  When I asked the cashier for the best thing you have, he really did give me the best thing.
Amy Ems Jun 2013
i don't want to read your curious looks
your casual tones, or anything they hint of
i did that once, and look where it got me

i don't want to read your eyes
or the crinkles that come with them
forced happiness hurts both ends, you know

i don't want to read your sighs
castoff glances, held breaths
waiting for something neither of us can place

i don't want to read your anger
the clenching of fists and jaws and hearts
interfering only backfires on me

i don't want to read your absences
how you don't seem to care until you're back
but i always do

i don't want to read your glares
frustration through avoidance, that's what you do
this game's too foolish for me

i don't want to read your heart
it's not written in a language i'd understand
and such is for the better

i don't want to read your scars
i might remember who caused them
and wonder why that who still exists

i don't want to read your memories
they're not the same as mine
maybe they never were
NaNi Dec 2016
the past cannot be undone
what is done is done
& what wasn't now is
acceptance is closure
the present is your gift
make sure the past isn't interfering with its growth
because you can go nowhere really fast
& your future is now dependent on the past
which of course won't last



-Nani

— The End —