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"invictus" poems
I remember when I wanted to be Anything and everything somehow Now I’m starting to think: Was that jus childhood or I am different now? I haven’t achieved anything yet I’m ordinary and average I’m no one you’d remember The world is not my stage.   Still, why do I feel I don’t need any help: When it’s obvious that I do? All those people giving me advice, Why can’t I just listen to you? Why does it take so long for your words to sink into my brain? Why can’t I see how much I lose And how little I gain? Why did I make myself this way? Why can’t I make myself change? Why can’t I just do it? Why am I so strange?  Why are there so many “why?” s in this? I need to stop making excuses Stop procrastinating and delaying I should just get down to it. There are things I need to do I need to learn how to talk I need to start listening now I need to crawl before I walk Today, I feel like I’m worthless Tomorrow I’ll feel fine I need whatever I’m feeling now To stay inside this brain of mine. I’m too young to be worthless Too young to keep on crying Too  young to even feel this way Too young to stop trying I just need to find the will again; The will to do something great Find it, Keep it and never let it go. “I am the master of my fate” (Invictus, William Henley, 1888)
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Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 2:56 AM UTC
Worthless
Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is ****** but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find, me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.
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5.6k
Invictus [I. M. To R. T. Hamilton Bruce (1846-1899)]
Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud, Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is ****** but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find me, unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.
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5.3k
Invictus
They say that music and maths are the worlds unifier, its non-barrier standard. All can unite in music and maths. Yet, they forget the literature form of Poetry. Poetry its long history, dating back to the Sumerian Epic of Gilgamesh. Evolving from folk songs such as the Chinese Shijing, or from a need to retell oral epics, as with the Sanskrit Vedas, Zoroastrian Gathas, and the Homeric epics. Poetry is the history of mankind. Memorable for its form, rhyme, meter, subject, symbolism, metaphors, similes, hidden meanings, Truth, fantasy and fable. All human emotion, no matter what colour, gender, creed, faith or belief system, is welcome through poetry, gains from poetry, learns from poetry and in return is taught by poetry. Those lines in a myriad of languages, styles, form and content is mankind's story, a poem can feed your soul 'Invictus' taught humankind through one man's struggle. Not music, not maths. From a Sonnet to Shi Villanelle toTanka Haiku to Ode Ghazal to Narrative poetry Epic poetry to Dramatic poetry Satirical poetry to Light poetry Lyric poetry to an Elegy Verse fable to Prose poetry. We write poetry because we are human! filled with passion. And other pursuits are necessary to sustain human life. But poetry IS what I stay alive for.
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Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 8:16 PM UTC
Poetry
Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head. is ****** but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find, me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.
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2.7k
I. M. R.T. Hamilton Bruce (1846-1899) [Invictus]
From within a blackened heart spawns madnesses twisted Invictus, a severed head sat atop a plinth, filled with decaying thoughts of cyanide and citrus, completely crazy, inverted, perverted, infected with an insanity that dances from the eyes - pouting lips tempestuous and alluring from the tip of a tongue he sews insidious lies, roosting upon the bleeding emotions of others a vile disassociation sanity can't pertain, charred lips from suckling the ******* of Hell the back-broke miracle nature refuses to explain, exhaling noxious fumes, a pyro-manic incense, one soul re-arranged, deranged and blisteringly intense; so much so, it disgusts me beyond words - so kick the rotten apple, watch the maggots writhe within thou sour curds.
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Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 5:56 PM UTC
Dreams Of Cyanide And Citrus
Woop As the siren blares/ Scared nervous/ I hear a loud pull over!/ Its the Grammar Police/ awwww snap They want to see my diploma/ I keep my hand on the pen Like I don't even notice/ In my window of opportunity Asking/ Son Do you know why I pulled you over?/ Cause I'm in the office sir writing these poems?/ I take full responsibility I don't got no diploma I just got this GED/ He said that's not good enough Put down the pen son Your coming with me/ Now there's Turmoil thru the streets drama around every corner/ There should be no commas Period I question marked your honor/ Butchering with clevers run on sentences for ever/ The alphabet guys set up Planted evidence missing letters/ Sworn I had it down to a T The I before E how does that go?/ Well don't look now I done broke another law/ How ever this may trouble you I keep my vowels sometimes Y & W/ Somethings not write I'm reeling feeling uncomfortable/ Is it me? Well don't you see/ A fused two V's?/ That's my story I'm sticking to it my testimony/ Yet we speak it double U/ confused by another rule/ They label me an outlaw In the middle of the court room/ A mystery/ A victim being pursued/ by the Grammar police/ The jury siding with the prosecution I may never be released/ Its Invictus/ The defense rest Now they have an eye-witness/ With an eye on who did this/ There,     their,      they're,      hair,     heir      and..... here/ The Ironies in the rule book/ similar sounding confused look/ If i where to spoke this and not wrote this you would have not notice/ No no Input was it done on purpose?/ For a purpose?/ One things for certain/ If l lay dying dead in the street It's cause you took shots at me Just remember I wasn't perfect/ But you are the grammar police Just doing your job I know working/
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Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 10:43 AM UTC
Grammar Police
Woop As the siren blares/ Scared nervous/ I hear a loud pull over!/ Its the Grammar Police/ awwww snap They want to see my diploma/ I keep my hand on the pen Like I don't even notice/ In my window of opportunity Asking/ Son Do you know why I pulled you over?/ Cause I'm in the office sir writing these poems?/ I take full responsibility I don't got no diploma I just got this GED/ He said that's not good enough Put down the pen son Your coming with me/ Now there's Turmoil thru the streets drama around every corner/ There should be no commas Period I question marked your honor/ Butchering with clevers run on sentences for ever/ The alphabet guys set up Planted evidence missing letters/ Sworn I had it down to a T The I before E how does that go?/ Well don't look now I done broke another law/ How ever this may trouble you I keep my vowels sometimes Y & W/ Somethings not write I'm reeling feeling uncomfortable/ Is it me? Well don't you see/ A fused two V's?/ That's my story I'm sticking to it my testimony/ Yet we speak it double U/ confused by another rule/ They label me an outlaw In the middle of the court room/ A mystery/ A victim being pursued/ by the Grammar police/ The jury siding with the prosecution I may never be released/ Its Invictus/ The defense rest Now they have an eye-witness/ With an eye on who did this/ There,     their,      they're,      hair,     heir      and..... here/ The Ironies in the rule book/ similar sounding confused look/ If i where to spoke this and not wrote this you would have not notice/ No no Input was it done on purpose?/ For a purpose?/ One things for certain/ If l lay dying dead in the street It's cause you took shots at me Just remember I wasn't perfect/ But you are the grammar police Just doing your job I know working/
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66
Two Maronite schoolchildren practice their English… “Cedars! Cedars! Cedars!” “See theirs, seethers, Caesars, See her cedars Caesar?” “See here, a sea-fare and see there? And oh, I see Sir?” “Do you see her? Yes I see Sir, -Caesar!” “Cedars! Cedars! Cedars!” And they are descendants of Solomon’s thirty-thousand, the great-grandchildren of Hiram’s workers. “Sol Indiges!” “Sol Invictus!” “Sol-Ammon!” “Now children, how do the three monkeys act?” “Sol, the root of solar and it means the Sun, it means also to see or sight as it infers the light of seeing.” “Am means fire but it is also the meditative word, Aum, therefore it cannot render evil through sound!” “On is Egyptian and it connotes speech so it represents hearing.” The instruction in language is not terse. Requiring broad-based understandings of how the West characterizes ideas. These two are particularly adept being taught from birth in both Maronitic and Latin and now English, in preparation for their exodus, as home has become a battleground where they must leave soon. Only in the West can they find peace and practice their faith so expressively. Only in the West can these two girls attend school if their lands are befallen… “Now children, what does this mean?” “See no evil!” “Speak no Evil!” “Hear no Evil!” “And that children, is the Wisdom of Solomon!” Breaking news! CNN reports that a car bomb has exploded in the ancient Lebanese town of Mejdeloon. Shocking footage now of a series of homes that have been reduced to rubble near a Maronite Church where rescuers are just now pulling out the bodies of two young school girls. Christopher Talias reports live from the Lebanon. “Sol Indiges is the voice of god," Sol Invictus, in light, his mind;" Sol-Ammon is the understanding and wisdom for all time!”
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Jun 17, 2016
Jun 17, 2016 at 11:56 AM UTC
Solomon; 2014
Two Maronite schoolchildren practice their English… “Cedars! Cedars! Cedars!” “See theirs, seethers, Caesars, See her cedars Caesar?” “See here, a sea-fare and see there? And oh, I see Sir?” “Do you see her? Yes I see Sir, -Caesar!” “Cedars! Cedars! Cedars!” And they are descendants of Solomon’s thirty-thousand, the great-grandchildren of Hiram’s workers. “Sol Indiges!” “Sol Invictus!” “Sol-Ammon!” “Now children, how do the three monkeys act?” “Sol, the root of solar and it means the Sun, it means also to see or sight as it infers the light of seeing.” “Am means fire but it is also the meditative word, Aum, therefore it cannot render evil through sound!” “On is Egyptian and it connotes speech so it represents hearing.” The instruction in language is not terse. Requiring broad-based understandings of how the West characterizes ideas. These two are particularly adept being taught from birth in both Maronitic and Latin and now English, in preparation for their exodus, as home has become a battleground where they must leave soon. Only in the West can they find peace and practice their faith so expressively. Only in the West can these two girls attend school if their lands are befallen… “Now children, what does this mean?” “See no evil!” “Speak no Evil!” “Hear no Evil!” “And that children, is the Wisdom of Solomon!” Breaking news! CNN reports that a car bomb has exploded in the ancient Lebanese town of Mejdeloon. Shocking footage now of a series of homes that have been reduced to rubble near a Maronite Church where rescuers are just now pulling out the bodies of two young school girls. Christopher Talias reports live from the Lebanon. “Sol Indiges is the voice of god," Sol Invictus, in light, his mind;" Sol-Ammon is the understanding and wisdom for all time!”
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Anchored at the berth For centuries attempting to gracefully Slip the mooring A distant yesterday's whisper Evanesced now steadfast As if bewitched by the galaxy Unaware of the contiguous Land and liberation Tauntingly so rooted Refusing to be liberated Time and time Unnoticed invictus again it slips from moon to sun And time has stood still for so long It has become Interchangeable
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Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 3:27 PM UTC
Anchorage
Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is ****** but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.
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Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 3:48 AM UTC
Invictus by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY
(Meter and Rhyme structure taken from 'Invictus' - by William Ernest Henley.) Under the shade of dying trees, Rooted in grit, wet sand and coal, I crouch then curl in apathy And begin to dig a hole. Knowing the dark whims of random chance, I have once struggled to put down A wavering and anxious glance That ends firmly on the ground. In youth this world felt all too near, Too close to comprehend, let’s say, And as I weaved about my fears, I learned to stop, take pause - and say: It is in my mind I make the shade, It is then I that digs the hole. Thus when the time of fear pervades, It is I that must take control.
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Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 6:08 AM UTC
Song for the Anxious
I was once Unconscious Invisible Limbless Like a tadpole I saw nothing And heard nothing I had a sole goal I needed to reach the **** Before all of them Only the first one Could Become A Man. I can tell This tale today Because I am alive!
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Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 12:09 PM UTC
Little Invictus
Drowning in the depths of depression, Surrounded by shadows of blue and gray, I dwell in hellish silence, So I close my mind and attempt to pray, Trapped in the tricks of the present, Struggling to find the escape from today, The unconscious hand reaches for the knife, So I clap my hands and attempt to pray, Swamped in thick thoughts of tomorrow, Visions of stumbling to a brighter day, Lulling me into falling for false hope, So I open my eyes and attempt to pray, Entrenched in the fissure of the past, Scrambling to escape far away, From clutches of the clinging shades, So I look to the sky and attempt to pray, Swimming in the currents of life, Gasping for air after every fray, Stretching in search for a peaceful shore, So I breathe in deep and attempt to pray, God, please give me the strength to stay.
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Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 2:39 AM UTC
Pre-Invictus
Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeoning's of chance My head is ****** but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find, me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll. I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.
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Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 11:59 PM UTC
Invictus
Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is ****** but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find, me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.
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May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 5:19 AM UTC
INVICTUS by W. E. Henley
Alpas sa gabing lumukob Dulo’t dulo’y itim pulos Salamat anuman yung d’yos Kalul’wa kong di pasakop Sa pagkakataong malma Di sumuko ni lumuha Binugbog man ng tadhana Ulong dug’ua’y tunghay-laya Lampas ditong hagpis-luha Tanging lilim lang ang banta Datnan man dantaong sumpa N’ia ‘nong takot, ako’y wala Makipot man ang lagusan Bale-wala’ng parusahan Ang palad ko’y aking tangan Ako’y ako ang Kapitan.
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Mar 17, 2021
Mar 17, 2021 at 2:38 AM UTC
Di Malupig (Invictus)
You cannot judge me, dear fellow For I was and am to be Like the moon, stars and sun in the meadow Here in the great world of dreams. Yet when I slept, I saw Him beside me When I had awaken, I was alone And when I had died no more Ego sum dominus fati mei... Ego sum dominus anima et fati mei...
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Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 9:01 PM UTC
Vita Invictus
~ *Where there used to be trees, but is now a causeway under the Lord's nose, reside a constant tourist and his wife who have all they ever wanted, light and lure. They swim in a pool on the dangling homestar, overlooking metal decay, she pinches his cheek, he smacks her bottom, summer in Gotham is now upon them, gifting different things: he sees mystery lights endeavor, she sees herself a dragonfly on the lure. Monday thru Friday they like to ride the elevator of their love, up and down it goes along a focal point, out of him and into her, when the door closes they come together, when the door opens it lets in the tide of loneliness and they begin to push buttons. They dislike home and its constant secrets, what she wears is for him, but less is more, he invades her often, but she's become a empty field, theirs is Neptune's bedroom, if they don't find a reason to make love, they will stay up all night until irritable frozen creatures. Invictus interruptus, with the luck of the draw they play dangerous days: a game of blindfolds and snowmobiles, a game of hammers and nails. The plane of their lust hunts the morning light on gloomy Sunday, the rain wets their hair, the sidewalk creates a song: electric skylark, they dance out of focus, he grasps her hips, she makes a beautiful sound, caught by magic, trapped by photographic memory and numbered doors. Light and lure. All anomalies. Sublimation will not return until the day of the focal point, in the city where they have all they ever wanted, yet here they have nothing more than microcosm, the rest is distraction. Maybe they should remain a constant. Maybe he should just hold her. Maybe she should just let herself be held.* ~
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Apr 17, 2025
Apr 17, 2025 at 2:22 PM UTC
The Gotham Ellipse
~ *Where there used to be trees, but is now a causeway under the Lord's nose, reside a constant tourist and his wife who have all they ever wanted, light and lure. They swim in a pool on the dangling homestar, overlooking metal decay, she pinches his cheek, he smacks her bottom, summer in Gotham is now upon them, gifting different things: he sees mystery lights endeavor, she sees herself a dragonfly on the lure. Monday thru Friday they like to ride the elevator of their love, up and down it goes along a focal point, out of him and into her, when the door closes they come together, when the door opens it lets in the tide of loneliness and they begin to push buttons. They dislike home and its constant secrets, what she wears is for him, but less is more, he invades her often, but she's become a empty field, theirs is Neptune's bedroom, if they don't find a reason to make love, they will stay up all night until irritable frozen creatures. Invictus interruptus, with the luck of the draw they play dangerous days: a game of blindfolds and snowmobiles, a game of hammers and nails. The plane of their lust hunts the morning light on gloomy Sunday, the rain wets their hair, the sidewalk creates a song: electric skylark, they dance out of focus, he grasps her hips, she makes a beautiful sound, caught by magic, trapped by photographic memory and numbered doors. Light and lure. All anomalies. Sublimation will not return until the day of the focal point, in the city where they have all they ever wanted, yet here they have nothing more than microcosm, the rest is distraction. Maybe they should remain a constant. Maybe he should just hold her. Maybe she should just let herself be held.* ~
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74
I make a jest of your many dimensions curving our time and its massive indentions Reaching for me as a wave, as a particle, your lightness of limb you’re the genuine article Sol invictus, opportune white hot and yielding sun you are the cause of my strange perihelion
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Dec 11, 2011
Dec 11, 2011 at 3:10 PM UTC
Apsis
In your voice, I speak I'm unconquerable, I am unbeatable And I cant be defeated by the weird silence nor The eldritch darkness Am not ashamed to speak for you Am the light in you You are made from me for me; you behold my face But in your heart, a war rages A war of self-condemnation, a life devoid of chastity You stand alone Broken, petrified, voiceless But I speak for you I speak to you, and I speak through you Youre no longer a slave to fear You have the light in you, dont hold it all in Like dust trampled upon many feet You shall rise and speak forth! Up from the repeated trampling upon Up from the pseudo self-preservation Awake, thou slumberer The world await earnestly for your rising I in you, together hand in hand We will conquer We are invictus Yes, you have a voice and you're no longer a slave To fear
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Sep 20, 2017
Sep 20, 2017 at 3:47 AM UTC
A VOICE FROM THE VOICELESS
The drizzles, upon our skin, akin to Crystalline dews streaming down The window pane. Plane as it is, Except for some stories told over A cup of coffee, we remained strangers In a strange midnight, nameless, Faceless crowd of aloness. But the Stolen gaze is a thousand words, Unspoken yet understood, unheard Humming in solitude. So we stood in Silence for there is no better name For all there is in this moment but Midnight sun. Just lend me another cup of creamer And caffeine, for I have forgotten the Art of remembering, for all there is has Become a poetry of your presence.
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Feb 8, 2021
Feb 8, 2021 at 9:07 PM UTC
Sol Invictus
Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is ****** but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.
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Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 10:04 AM UTC
Invictus
Drowning in the depths of depression, Surrounded by shadows of blue and gray, I dwell in hellish silence, So I close my mind and attempt to pray, Trapped in the tricks of the present, Struggling to find the escape from today, The unconscious hand reaches for the knife, So I clap my hands and attempt to pray, Swamped in thick thoughts of tomorrow, Visions of stumbling to a brighter day, Lulling me into falling for false hope, So I open my eyes and attempt to pray, Entrenched in the fissure of the past, Scrambling to escape far away, From clutches of the clinging shades, So I look to the sky and attempt to pray, Swimming in the currents of life, Gasping for air after every fray, Stretching in search for a peaceful shore, So I breathe in deep and attempt to pray, God, please give me the strength to stay.
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Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 2:39 AM UTC
Pre-Invictus