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"interprete" poems
CAN'T YOU FEEL.. The gentle sound of my heartbeat,  suddenly pounding with all the intent of tearing me apart-like a lady having anxiety attacks with no help within reach? CAN'TYOU SEE This sparkle in ma eyes, suddenly replaced by the look of fear aroused by images deeply ingrained in my memory, Memories you created that now torture even though you meant them to teach? CAN'T YOU HEAR? This melodious tune turned a melancholic symphony created by my wailing n sobbing,caused by a voice once therapeutic now at its faintest sound I flinch? CAN'T YOU SMELL? The stench of hatred as from us it emanates and slowly it spreads into ds crowded space we share, as little by little, layers of enmity fills the air we breath? If all these you knew then your senses would interprete That at your touch I cower; From a feeling once sweet and tender that now drains every ounce of strength and leaves me without power. That at the sight of these I choose blindness; Away from the ethereal face that at the sight of, leaves me numb As to your smell I get nauseous; so nauseous That I taste the bitterness of heartbreak And hear the sad music my heart will play at the sound of your heart bidding mine farewell So please, I humbly plead, let me go! But if break my heart you must n breach my trust, Then let all we ever shared be counted a loss and from our memories be swept away like dust, Please!  Be fair in your dealings with me I plead Be kind and just... For this heart has only started to heal, Please don't let it rot or rust.. -r3d-
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Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 9:08 AM UTC
SYNESTHESIA
CAN'T YOU FEEL.. The gentle sound of my heartbeat,  suddenly pounding with all the intent of tearing me apart-like a lady having anxiety attacks with no help within reach? CAN'TYOU SEE This sparkle in ma eyes, suddenly replaced by the look of fear aroused by images deeply ingrained in my memory, Memories you created that now torture even though you meant them to teach? CAN'T YOU HEAR? This melodious tune turned a melancholic symphony created by my wailing n sobbing,caused by a voice once therapeutic now at its faintest sound I flinch? CAN'T YOU SMELL? The stench of hatred as from us it emanates and slowly it spreads into ds crowded space we share, as little by little, layers of enmity fills the air we breath? If all these you knew then your senses would interprete That at your touch I cower; From a feeling once sweet and tender that now drains every ounce of strength and leaves me without power. That at the sight of these I choose blindness; Away from the ethereal face that at the sight of, leaves me numb As to your smell I get nauseous; so nauseous That I taste the bitterness of heartbreak And hear the sad music my heart will play at the sound of your heart bidding mine farewell So please, I humbly plead, let me go! But if break my heart you must n breach my trust, Then let all we ever shared be counted a loss and from our memories be swept away like dust, Please!  Be fair in your dealings with me I plead Be kind and just... For this heart has only started to heal, Please don't let it rot or rust.. -r3d-
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He was making his way To the job centre to claim a benefit, When a garden Rose, During his perambulation toward degregation, SMILED!...he felt A connection... He dismissed it! Thinking himself unworthy, Why?...Well,( the system)FAILING... Failing as a child Failing at school Failing in society Failing those that rule. The ROSE ignored the rule... To the ROSE, it RULED with its flaws  and Perfection! The Rose knows More Than humankind knows! The Rose Smiled... It's the Only way HE Could interprete it... It Was A SMILE! Of the Greatest Genuinitity! He Smiled back And felt SO good!
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May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 6:43 PM UTC
Natural Distraction
Footsteps on the beach Interprete path of memories Made running towards existence Now controlled by power
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Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 12:42 PM UTC
Life
Knowledge is mans neurosis to cover the pain of existence. All knowledge is false because all pain is interpreted by the mind, which is made of nothing. Human beings as conductors of consciousness, interprete pain only as a mechanism to evolve toward a more idealic state.   We do not need God for that which we have, but for that which we lack So God is That toward which we seek to Evolve. Therefor God lives in us as our future selves. (In regard to quantum evolution) Relinquishing resistence (inner) is conducive to the Highest Self or Jesus the Christ Yet do we understand Time. Men percieving with keyhole eyes remember Love sees not with the eyes but with the Mind Free your jailed Mind Hallelujah
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Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 11:42 PM UTC
maybe
When Someone asks Me Who are you? This guy With some Mass Having Senses Called as Human Is that me? May be Not I am something Which I cannot Interprete I know what I am But, really I cannot Feel What I am? I am filled With me But, I am Empty Within me This emptiness Came because of My lack of Knowing What really I am? ...
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Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 10:42 PM UTC
802. What I am???
The concentric circles Of two within one described by colours And the colours have meaning The outer circle shaded red those who build the world located hear They are poor They work day in day out They make a living out of sweat Most have many children Most uneducated Most die of hunger They do unpropotional kind of work They work a lot but paid less Success is imagination The inner is yellow This describes the better ones They are intermediaries They speak for the few They give given orders They earn They are settled but still most are not happy They still strive to impress their bosses The innermost belong to the few The tycoons and multimillionaires The earn but do not work They formulate orders to favor They hate local and like abroad They speak in tongues For others to interprete Their shade is green They have years to die They import doctors They inspire in **** These are the few, They have their say And they must be heard! Live is not fair On earth someone struggles to make ends meet While the other struggles to frustrate the more The stinky rich Controls the world Even if they are educationally down Their money speak louder Their stories spread like fire over dry grass They are of joy... I will still believe in this concentric circle and unearth even better stories .
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Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 12:36 AM UTC
The Circle