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ren Jan 2014
I am irrelevant. 
I am nothing but a vessel.
I am a lantern to carry Light,
And a candlestick has never pled
"Someone please love me".

I am irrelevant.
I am assured in hope.
I am a stain glass window;
My purpose is to color in His plan
With the humble crayons 
I've been given.

I am irrelevant. 
I am here to serve.
I am here to wipe the dripping tears
Of crying candle wax
And light the oil in others.

I am irrelevant. 
And the only relevance is His light.
-ren
all this pain I hold
it’s making me numb
it’s like somewhere inside of me
there’s this hole
and it’s just so empty
that all I can feel is alone
Carter Ginter Jun 2018
What a day
What a life
I've been here many times
But none of them felt like this

My first year
I saw this couple
They were dancing and singing
As they gazed into the other's eyes
The love there was palpable
And to a young queer person
Feeling extremely alone and unlovable
I cried because I didn't think
I could ever be worth
A love quite like that

Then this year happened
I thought they were a new crush
But those gorgeous eyes locked into mine
And I feel like I've known them for ages

A few drinks in and
The anxiety begins to fade away
As our bodies time themselves to the rhythm
Of music I didn't think I could dance to
As strangers question the intensity
Of the intimacy between us
And would probably freak if they knew
That we've only known each other
Just over two weeks
But time is irrelevant and
Feelings are everything

Their vibrant energy electrocutes mine
Sending my body into both a
Simultaneous rush and deceleration
As we are transported beyond this space
Beyond the heavy crowds
To a place of our own
Where no one can touch us
Where no one else exists
Where it's only them and I
Staring into each other's eyes
And feeling each other's souls
Exactly where I wanted to be
Is exactly where I am
Skyla Aug 2018
It doesn’t really matter if you’re hungry
You’re not even going to eat
You aren’t a loser, you’ll win this game
It’s a game you have to defeat
It’s hot outside and you’re really cold
Your young, small body is feeling old
You feel so starved down to your soul
Keep it up honey, you’re on a roll
You want to be half but you are whole
You hate this game but you’re in control
To feel in control you must pay the price
It doesn’t cost much, just your life
No matter what, you’re always alone
It’s you and me, it’s written in stone
You’ve lost everything that you love and own
But at least you have your beautiful bones
Your body hates you but that’s okay
Everyone has left, but I’ll always stay
That was my goal all along
To make you feel guilty, to make you feel wrong
Everything I say is helpful, everything I say is the cure
You don’t want to feel disgusting, do you? Don’t you want to be pure?
Tiny, Angelic, Dainty and Delicate
Everything else is completely irrelevant
You’ll never feel shameless, you’ll be the greatest!
Listen to me darling, don’t you want to be weightless?
Tired, gaunt, pointless and twisted
The girl you’ve been talking to never existed
It’s all in your head, but your head is her home
You’ve got nothing left to control, but your brittle little bones ~
Amanda Mar 4
How many of our smiles are fake?
How many of us wish our own lives to take?
How many people out there feel alone?
Or even worse feel like they are just another clone?
How many souls are crying out for another?
And how many of them will meet each other?
How many loved ones have passed away?
How many deal with depression each day?
Or another mental illness they carefully hide?
How many of you out there are broken inside?
How many humans are truly at peace?
And just when will that contentment cease?
How many of us have cut out our hearts?
And destroyed it so no one else could hurt that part?
How many of us have watched those we love the most,
Change over time into an unrecognizable ghost?
How many people have each one of us used?
How many words have we said that left others ego bruised?
How many friends have we drifted apart from?
How many of us are horrified by what we have become?
How many goodbyes cut good people open wide?
Leaving them gutted by the empty space by their side?
How many hours have been wasted by sorrow?
How many todays ruined by yesterday or tomorrow?
How many questions has mankind really asked?
How many people walking by are wearing an ornate mask?
How many of us are able to say the smile we don is real?
And mean it when we tell another how it is we feel?
The answers are only numbers with an unimportant sum,
They don't matter because the tragic fact of every last one
Is that they all show us our harsh reality;
The truth most people cannot accept or see

We'd rather make-believe our lives are as happy
As we know they will not ever be
Actually thinking about other people's problems for once..
Robert Ronnow Aug 2015
I like immigrants, immigration. Legal immigration, Jane
passionately corrects. Actually my goal is a borderless world.
That's a new idea to her.
Gathering the neighborhood like family.
The men discuss sterilizing welfare mothers. I say You're working
      around the edges,
humanity has exceeded the carrying capacity of the planet,
even those with jobs. And spouses. And houses.
Yet it's an idyll of an early summer evening, new cut grass,
two baseball teams of children playing in it. Safe from Pakistan.
News photos of Muslim refugees, women in blue robes, biblically
carrying children away from holocaust. The fundamentalist army
not far behind, beheading sinners, sure in its righteousness
as the Holy Roman Empire.

Somehow Joel Osteen the evangelist comes up
while talking about how the Catholic Church is irrelevant in North
      America,
even Latin America and Africa are going evangelical.
Izzi likes Osteen, awesome extemporaneous speaker, no teleprompter,
up from bootstraps message and my wife says he's probably Jewish.
No one wants to go there.
Fortunately no one claims the Holocaust never happened or slavery
      was voluntary.
What is the carrying capacity of the planet? Two children
have replacement value. In China is it each couple or each adult that gets
one offspring? As life expectancy and standards rise,
family size diminishes. We draw together into greener, tighter cities
surrounded by farms surrounded by forests.
The children of three monotheistic religions, atheists and agnostics
play in city streets, work farm fields, explore forests, deserts,
      grasslands, space.

Two ancient female poets: Enheduanna and Sappho
are a revelation. The clarity of their complaints:
lost lover, lost city.
www.ronnowpoetry.com
Carter Ginter May 2013
These memories burn in my heart;
As the song pulls me back into a different time,
Something inside me dies.
Because I don't handle change well;
Subtle or obvious,
It hurts any way.
Whether it be irrelevant,
Or the best moment of my life,
Comparing the past with now destroys my sanity.
Looking where I am today
I never would have guessed it 2 years ago,
And where I am tomorrow,
I can never know.
Seeing someone change is even worse;
Watching the innocence get ****** out of their minds.
Corruption is the sickest of demons,
Society being the host of such a parasite,
With death being the only bearer of freedom.
Everything keeps changing so fast. And right now I'm in the middle of a huge transition and I haven't really acknowledged it, but when I even slightly think about it it hurts. But life doesn't wait for people to be ready.
Gabrielle Isa Jan 2015
When she was born
Her relatives spat on the ground,
Called her mother a witch
And said "The only thing she's good for is dowry".

By 6 years old
She understood what being a girl meant;
Be still and quiet
Your opinion is irrelevant .

At 11 she watched her brothers go to school
As she sat in the kitchen,
Doing 'the work of a woman',
With tears of longing streaming down her face.

At 17, she slept with a man who was 67
Living with the cruel hand she'd been dealt;
How did she raise 2 children
When she was still a child herself?

At 35, no longer a child bride
She was replaced,
With a girl that had not
Even come of age.

She held the young woman
And dried her tears.
She understood her sorrow
She had felt it for years.

But this was her destiny,
Her role from birth.
To be the silent weeper,
The cleaner, the mother,
The lover; who would never know Love.

At 65 she's died,
Buried next to a man she never even knew.
Not a single male cries,
Her funeral attended by few.

So why the abuse?
Why so much pain?
Why raise such a brave soul in vain?

One rebellious voice cries,
With tears streaming down her face
"If only she were male!"
She looks to me and says

"You wish to know,
why she could have had no joy?
The answer is simple
They wanted a boy"
idunnome Apr 17
What's it like to feel wanted?
i could have told you before
but i can't recall anymore
Gyuwon Dec 2017
2
Im not a poet,
Im just a depressed teenger.
Ill run around the circuit
Until my sweat becomes my armor.

Dont expect much from me,
Im just a socially awkward wreck
The worst card in the deck
Only be remembered as a speck

My ideas are so cliché
That theyve become irrelevant
I always give up midway
And leave myself less confident

But until I find my purpose,
Im just a depressed teenager,
A voiceless individual,
A worthless entity.
You'll never find me
and I'm smiling.
The glint in my eyes
reflects the choirs' harmonizing.
Drop the melody.

This existence is a relative matter
on an irrelevant plane.
Few who comprehend that stay sane,
But irreverence for it means a life in vain.

I sublimed long ago
and you never knew.
We'd do well to remember
what where I dwell resembles:
Self-consciousness, and the truth.
There's only one way,
Know about it
but don't think about it.

I've been somewhere else
and I can't come back.

"Everything will be ok now."
-Last Promise

Feel the bass.
Meta-serious/delirious pulchritudinous,
Curious.
karin naude Mar 2013
i wandered for a long time
among thorns, disease and death
no glimmer to see
feel the walls, feel the cave,it leads you out
i found many Christian doors
locked with big heavy chains
you preach "come Ye weary"
to locked door?!
Christian followers preach beautiful
words divinely chosen for impact
no temperature ever checked
walk among bibles, oil and cloths
dance in praise
blow the battle horn
But But But
who sees those wandering in the dark standing before closed doors for help

closed doors mean" banishment to the Barron out field
red sin covered land
mercy irrelevant
demanding cruel deity
pleased with nothing
pushes self destruction
cries are stamp on
more pain more glory
damage soul the goal
your pleadings are laughed and spit upon
the glorious hellish Barron outfield

do you allow this dear reader?
do you have closed doors?
i lived in the outfields now i'm home thank God
my Guardian through prayer opened a door for me
now i know, now i know
follow the true Christ
Say what you like
Say what you will
But the truth to the matter of whether God is real
Lies within the heart of you'r soul
That is the heart that does not beat
Nor can it be seen
You may say science has fact
I also may say that theories indeed them selves are all proven
Take to account the string theory
That one thing is seen while the other is leering
Not seen but existent and that as it is
Fact is irrelevant when it comes down to this
So take to my word's
Be that as it may
Theology is something
Proven by rays
Sounds
And light
Speed that is fast 4 times the speed of light
Unheard of by science but by space and time  
It is possible so fact that everything is slow
This is a fact unproven but proven to be know
kirk Feb 2016
Id love a big fat ****
Or a wrinkled up *******
An ugly looking hag
Who wants a ******* ****

If I had a big fat *****, with a big fat bucket
I'd lay between her fleshy thighs, and definitely **** it
My thrusting **** inside her ****, is where I'd like to tuck it
Spunking up would be sublime, when I lick and **** it

When your about to **** the fat, it takes a certain knack
Stuffed up fishy **** *****, or **** ******* round the back
A nice piece of chunky ****, with a big long sweaty crack
Fatty *** holes make you hard ,my **** would not be slack

I would ride a big large Gal, just like a waterbed
Bathroom ******* would be fun, as well as in the shed
Spunking up between her legs, cream cheese would then be spread
When both holes are full of ***, she can **** my **** instead

And after I have finished, with all of those fat *******
Something different I would want, maybe some old wrinkled witches
All wearing apple gatherers, and big large ******* britches
Older ***** long overdue, scratching long lost itches

A lot of fun I could have, in an old folks place
Disrobed willing grannies *****, stuffed right in my face
At least eight bits of gristle ******, a display of my disgrace
With each granny ****** in turn, if they can stand the pace

As I lift their skirts up their knickers I would sniff
I'm hoping that old fannies good, and they don't smell or whiff
The smell of old used granny ****, is probably just a myth
But I won't let it bother me, as long as I get stiff

I wouldn't even care, if they wore crap NHS glasses
As long as I could **** and ***, inside there wrinkled arses
I would **** them old ****** , all from different classes
Some of them in wheelchairs and some with heart bypasses.

It's irrelevant how fat you are, I really do not mind
As long as you are willing, and your *****'s wet and kind
And if you like it up the ****, then I'm that way inclined
******* ***** is quite fine, so is ******* from behind

So come on girls fat or old, all slags are a possibility
Your sexuality can flood out, there's no need for negativity
I'm willing to **** who comes along, to the best of my ability
Just make sure that I stay stiff, and maintain my agility
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