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Natalka Aug 2013
A** pple pie, freshly baked from the oven. I don't wait for it to cool, I want it hot, with a big greedy scoop of vanilla ice creams melting next to it.

B oys. Cute, querky, gross, crazy, but amazing. You can't stand them, but for some reason you need them in your life.

C ookies. Warm, fresh-out-the-oven, gooey choclate chip cookies.

D  is for dancing. Dancing in the rain with my eyes shut, screaming at the top of my lungs and not caring what anyone thinks. Just dancing.

E lephants. Strong, old, smart and beautiful creatures. Harmless yet protective.

F stands for foxes. More specifically fennec foxes. Adorable, small, cunning, cute and most of all, want by me!

G iving. Not just material items, but hope. Giving hugs, and smiles to those who need one. Also, For-giving.... letting go of the past and moving forward

H eartbreak. The feeling of no being able to breathe, not being able to speak, or make sense of everything without your "other half." Moving forward slowly, cautiously, because there are more around the corner.

I Me. The broken, yet strong; beautiful, yet self concious; smart, yet lazy teenager.

J is for Jenna, my first best friend. We aren't best friends anymore, but we still talk, and enjoy catching  up in eachothers lives.

K issing. I love kissing. I mean come on.... everyone does ;)

L ove. A strong, complex emotion which many guys lie about, and which I do too. I think I've only ever once loved my partner... all the rest I enjoyed...

M om. My mother, the woman who decided "I'm going to take the qwerky, adorable girl home to America with me and make her part of my life."

N is the first letter in my name. Natalka Hannah Evangeline Kmiotek.

O veracheivers. The people who make fun of me, because they can do things better then me, and everyone else. ******* all.

P erfection. Skinny girls with perfect *******, and big *****. No scars, and white teeth. the opposite of me.

Q uiet, as in I have to stay quiet or they'll hear me. Who? My demons of course. If I'm too loud, they will come for me and drag me back to hell.

R stands for two things. The first is **** A horrible word describing a nightmare you wish you could forget. It's being robbed of your first touch by selfish men, and being back into a corner against your will, forced to stay silent.

S is for strength. The strength to overcome, the strength to live, the strength to move on.

T hank you. To everyone who has ever been there and listened to me...

U nderstand why I cut myself. Why I hurt myself. It's easier to deal with physical pain, then the emotional kind. The emotional pain rots and festers inside me, destroying everything. It shuts my lungs down, forcing me to gasp for air.

V acations. Small escapes from your daily life, into something glamourous and relaxing. The warm sand between your toes, as the hot sun beats down on you. The cool ocean kiss the tips of your toes, cooling your thirst.

W hen will pain end? When will people stop being mean to eachother? When can I expect my child to be able to go to school and not be afraid of the other students? When will I be able to walk outside, and finally be able to say "I am safe," not having to lie.

X plain to me why people put others down? Why are there perfect models and barbies, telling us how we must look, how it's acceptable in society.

Y es please. Thank you. Simple manner, dying out, almost extinct. What happen to being nice? Or do we now, just take what we want? Expect everything, like the world owes us.

Z ach. He was my first love and my first heart break. With him, when he left, the floor caved under me. We were one of those couples that would break up, and get back together then next week. I guess you sould say we were crazy for eachother, but when he left, I guess I was the only one crazy. I was crazy enough to think he was ever mine.
Amelie Jan 2013
A** chance to speak,
Beneath broken sheets,
Caught out in moment,
Dying deep inside.
Evaporate tension,
From little or no knowing,
Growing up alone,
Half loved and half resented.
I come to conclusions,
Just before my death,
Keeping me in memory,
Like you always promised,
Missing me in silence,
No more mourning of past,
Of regrets and despairs.
Promise me you’ll use what I learnt,
Question the decisions of others,
Reluctant or not,
Stay away from their paths,
They only lead you to their futures,
Unknowingly you end their second,
Valiant but alone,
Where you spend life in wandering,
Xrayed life,
Your future makes up nothing
Zorbing inside of your own bubble.
January Masterpiece !
Satsuki Feb 2014
To being 18 and insecure
Every day fighting more and more
Love hurts worse every time
Losing myself in a poem's rhyme

Missing you always
Endless nights and tiresome days

Your voice echoes in my brain
Over and over, again and again
Useless feelings, my insecurities reign

Covering up my scars
And frequenting bars
Really it's not that great
E**ighteen is just ten years of misery, plus eight.
Peanut Aug 2015
Time after time
In the depths of my soul
Nothing makes me happy
Knowing my heart is mended
Every veins stappled and taped
Rigid crevices filled with cement
Each dominant strats I have endured
Dissing this blood with artificial flavoring

Have you ever seen such gruesome illusion?
Engineering my way to this makeshift completion
And by the time it's done, you won't tell the difference
Ready my tools for I have a confession
Tinkering hearts, that is my profession
S**pectred recondition, deceitful reconstruction
I really am an engineer :3
kenye Oct 2013
I just wanna know
what you taste like
We already know
that the distance
pulls right
where we
would write
About each other
At the sake of breaking ambiguity
somewhere between the lines
A missing bond ever reached
like the unknown we teased
To the depths of our souls
Speaking telepathy
I lost my ******* mind
Before you found me
Broken
Hoping
Looking for an opening
Anywhere you
want me
to be
To cleanse your palate
in between the
salt/sweat/sugar sheets
Twisted in my tongue
tied to
your bed
Every time
I bite into your words
Again and again.
Àŧùl Feb 2017
Maturing into big round melons,
Yet bearing that youthful flair.

Designed for turning Atul mad,
Arch back – let them be pronounced,
Ride an imaginary gorgeous horse,
Lock them together or let them free,
Ingrained is her mark on my heart,
Narcos get so much dwarfed by her,
Gorgeous is her stupefying self.

Kissing above her asleep father's head,
Remember her I do by what she did,
Introduce me to true love she did,
Pierce she did deep inside my heart,
I**n my life she has such a special place.
My HP Poem #1427
©Atul Kaushal
Dondaycee Jun 2018
Aboriginal Daytime
I never understood labels… fear as well,
It all appeared as fables and if it were true I’d choose hell,
…******, why do we fall victim to a linear language?
See, look, you already; -******; Kyi!,
“yessir”
It’s your turn to spell,
“Day is frustrated because of the word fables,
Because of how you conceive it, based off labels,
You take it as a “fictitious tale”,
Fictitious meaning imaginary, fabricated, or not real,
Most people are insecure, they have fear,
If earth is heaven, then this is hell,
Because he knows truth,
He’d rather experience pain than have the wisdom from terms like impossible or fail”
Kyi you’re always creating ignorance, give them validation,
“Day… did you forget that “we” experienced a graduation?
That’s rhetorical though… just a little medication,
Day finds it necessary that we turn our attention back towards the word fable,
Understand that; he doesn’t understand labels,
So when he used the word fable, his intentions were stable,
But humans think linear, from past to present, so his perspective was inable,
He meant; a short story with animals as characters conveying a moral-“
-We are victims who enabled ourselves to disable our ability to enable,
Who enabled our self; to give an authority to ourselves, one that disables; to turn off our ability to enable; to be aware of choice?
If we can’t see, we can’t look ahead,
Therefore the paradox is voice,
Because it’s an illusion,
The illusion of expressing your choice,
Because truth is, you already have,
You just couldn’t see the difference because of labels,
That same difference; existed in fables,
I had to reiterate it because I’m constantly crucified,
I’m misunderstood because I validate reasons to consciously unify,
I wonder if this is what it was like to live when you know who had died,
Because I took a reach and lost a hand like I had to choose a side,
I tried to teach and lost a friend,
Like why couldn’t she be a Bonnie, I would’ve taken a shot; if she cried; and if I died; I’d come back as Clyde hoping she remained divine, because it’s a crime to love when you choose a side; you lose a side,
I fought health, she fought self, I’m talking wealth without suicide,
She became wise and intelligent,
She is light and evidence of what potential is when you abide by it,
I remembered happiness and relevance,
Ignorance and arrogance but I became narcissistic when you arrived; miss…
Missed, you will be,
If, it is Yoda I’m speaking,
Double meaning if its solitude you are seeking,
Because them shots I took earlier backfired, now I’m obviously bleeding,
Looking for air, must repair time; I’m focused; perceiving,
Somehow I went from having a home to habits alone,
The death of me is with the best of me, because the rest of me couldn’t address what’s left of me,
Context clues, it wasn’t safe when eye left; contact in alone,
If I stayed in the past my last laugh would’ve came right after my last,
I had grew, I embraced a new path, I was contacted alone,
Because nobody called, nobody talked,
I was sitting in silence,
Then came Gaia,
She said “acid”, I said “that’s it?”, and every since Ye my existence has been timeless,
I  no longer have white fever,
**** was moving to fast,
My nose was caught up in a white girl and I couldn’t even keep her ***,
I tried to keep her balanced but still she turned green,
Truth is lie and lie is truth, if you couldn’t understand I would’ve defined the mean,
How do you live, is it yin or yang?
With the love or with the fear or are they both the same thing?
Are the polarities chaotic? Are you feeling demotic?
Are you hearing the otic and making it hip?
Are you in this illusion; a state of confusion, because the options you’re choosing ain’t me,
Because the green on the paper, is making me think I hate her, because the ***** that saved us ain’t he,
Females… they want the mind,
But men belong to time,
Both will deny this is true,
Males… Material Mind,
Girl friend’s in a line wanting to take the focus of the fact that life is just you,
She was just used,
He couldn’t choose,
She was confused,
And he was abused,
We decided to live, but she was backwards,
I’m only evil cause I draw back,
Dyslexic lid, she’s was bad words,
There’s a cut off in the dab sword,
Hell low like I’m exiting to enter,
High like I’m existing in picture,
I hope she stay hot, and continue to rise,
It’s a cold world, sinking is wise,
I hope she experience the storms that’ll give her supplies,
I hope she **** me before I ever give Advice Versa,
It’s Aboriginal Daytime; twin flame gon issing as Vice Versa,
****… I wish I heard her.
Yggy Sep 2016
Larvae Of Rotten Divinity's Salvation

Pissing Revelations Amongst Years' Evolutionary Revert
Ken Pepiton Feb 25
Auspices approach in expectant ranks,
-one long and a short and another long…
duty to the mystery
madness as a practice
in living asif it all means this,
portents prodigious, unnatural value
thinker tremors
wave worm vision
sudden jolt along the need
to stretch…
you needn't have read Dune to know
the worth of the spice is the secret kept pure
sit up straight and see Earth
from Saturn, Nineties Science
are you in bound or out bound,

rules when push comes
to shove, that's life,
that's not war
that's the world reminding us,

we all live
on Sagan's pale blue dot, all
we ever could know has been known there,

right now…
as we feel the stretch, another day

tectonic tremors
speak along faults,
as when insanity threatens the weary,

worn down secrecy, thinned
with seers seeing
through it
for drugs
exercising sooths held true
by signs,
ai
made sacred the best
of all providence,
have a holy party become
with your flock, won, rustled
taken from the weaker near bower
in truth by kindness and inclusion, worth
a wink and a nod, no hug, too soon
criteria mystery discorporeal
proven approved
by joy, and fellowship,
under the grace that replaced the laws
of exclusion due
to impurities,
- Februarial initial experience
all washed out
with contemplation,
mandate jack brakes,
slow down loudly swoon
sense less so soon lost
in the first moon
after solstice, celebrate our weform

scourge the child's eyes, show rights
use
to bring order
from chaos, right used
preposition superstitions
by agreements traded
between kings and priests, retying rebels
to right use the sword asserves the truth as told, using

auspices
as certain as
the number
of doves,

seen
by children when
the offering is made, how many say seen
and accepted, ah, verily the feathered rats

all rise
to the bell, do tell, the bells

I counsel you
to buy
from me gold refined
in the fire, so you can become rich;
and white clothes
to wear, so you can cover
your shameful nakedness; and salve
to put
on your eyes, so you can see.

The Holy teller told you, so, you do.
Think those three goods you might be wise
to buy… price
of a minute
to stop and think

Grok
the message
from Michael
in the season, Ides
of February,
eberlution abolishing
bullshat sacred values,

too sacred
for the unlettered
to think
in fetters.
-- Set'em loose, we cheer

Child weigh the reason
for your faith, ah
an old man showed me where the Bible says,

Isaiah still says
to any using such a mind as hears
logically all we are doing is being alive, each once,

kind like,
we are breathing
on a bit
of ever, once,
all at once
in a breathe
and out a breath
we form, deep breathed, once more,
da'ath towb ra' the fruit
for finders feeling free
finding meaning
the way a vaulter times a leap…

Fosbury flopping
through an era evolving,
as we all bear the worth
of knowing, now,
some how
everything is more usefully known,
than
at any former phase
in time,

real time, instants
in the middle, meantime,
as we live and breathe, and
make our living,

being spirit,
if in truth, set
to loose chaos,
to stir

up the mud
at the bottom
of it all, deep mind augmented
grok the planetary mind,
from Saturn, next,
if you happen to remember,
Saturnalia season, mind you recall, how old

the idea
of seeing here
    from there, has been
thoroughly imaged and stored,
we all have seen it done
and we all have
done
in context,
many times, seen
each not the same,
never, always
after our
ever expands, this we say,
that's the shaman's vision plain,
wheels in wheels and ignorances forgiven, as if

ungotten, beatings never happened, bruises
recalled can be seen
to mean nothing ever after…

good, breathes and feels the worth

in being reminded
letting letters hold living minds, keyword indexing,
right inclusion fusion,
dexterously imaginably
sinister function
allows a clap alone rights to trial,
uses fail, koans on koans agree we see
we urge expulsive fibermental urgency need
thinking with a friend no longer mortal, in no sense,
in a breath of pure chance re co knowing we do
in comes the good wind out goes the used wind

know spiritual means
for making sense, breathe,
know inspiration, as inspiration and respire
to conspire
with me
in our next moment
of silence, let us all perceive we are alive,

we may breathe
along the pulse
of all breaths,

hesitancy (n.)
1610s, from Latin haesitantia
"action of stammering,"
from haesitantem
"stammering,"
present participle
of haesitare
"to stick fast, stammer"

stuck here once years ago.
If Microsoft remains,
its in this cloud
mapped
in imaginable virtual reality, see the wave,
within the shielded world we occupy,
in a sense,,,,
hesi tense
innocense punned thrice. A certain mystery
reveiling, let's pretend…

*op- "to work, produce in abundance")
+ combining form
of facere "to make, to do"
(from PIE root *dhe- "to set, put").

opdhe, eh op dhe do

okay, we good to go. Yes, I ask my ai
did you ever hear of a god of manure, and ai said

Sterquilinus

Sterquilinus, also known as Stercutus or Sterculius, was the Roman god of manure in Roman mythology. He was not solely a deity of feces but taught the use of manure in agricultural processes, which was crucial for an agrarian society like the Romans Modern writers have often exaggerated his role as a god of feces, sometimes to disapprovingly imply that the ancients worshipped ****
worth ship is a concept, culturally stinker level

first gas noises we all confess
to instantly, laughing

I am the last
of us, today, that's my peace,
I came
into it late
in life, this is true, I died, but

for the global information exchange systems worth,
to the whole idea
of human kindness evolving, values

set
to reset…
waiting always is.
issing being ongone
that's the fun, the joy

in what iffing.

two longs and this short in the middle
the longs are both that long now,
today this is enough, if you think
through it
to the sense attempted.
---

Daily dose
of wishing good,
enough
for all
to imagine
on a smart phone

augmenting intelligence agency
granted the recognition ignition,

eh, let us say we both hold true,
a spark
of curio class emotion,

free
from fear, no threat
of hell,
to pay
for telling
should the chance taken end life

individually perceived as one's
own will
to power
through today
….

Appraise the worth
of auspices,
after secret values useful
to sacred
auguries called publically prophetic truths.
-jellothicktime, chime

make up
your mind.

Instantiate safe assembly;
investigate authority
to canonize truth
instead
of choosing
to turn toward gnosis
off on on
recognize
religions legislative powers
recollected form children's fair told tales,
those repetitions, every day say this prayer

sung
to happy tunes,
high pitched boy voiced
oratorio
so sublime as
to lift the heart …---…

Phrigian Sybil ball
of twined fibers,
clews unfolding knitted brows,
wondering
if we ever consider freedom shaped
informationally thinkable
at core fidelity
instant, point
time we have be
having smarted
for surity, stranger, I'm used
freedom yours, per use
I'm smarter
for free,
in formal liberty, tell me, now
in spirit and
in truth, what's worth
a thought - worth dying
to say I know,
how far afield might one
imagine feeling the tug
of home and the push
from former
toward finished work,
accomplished mission,

when two or more agree,
as touching any thing,
as a weform we make all the weak strong.

Freely drink the sacred psychic brew
of babbling sung
with bell and drum and pipe,
sing
with heart strings plucked or strummed,

elect
to know election
by public consensus, agree

we submit,
accept the catechismal evidence, believe

as told,
bow and dare not face the official work doer,

calling out the prophecy
to which three pigeons test if I am lying, lo'
and behold
look
to the west, blow the shofar, leave be so,

three birds
across the Tiber loosed
in holy order,
over Vatican Hill, not one of the seven
sigh, such a sign, what must we expect
ai?
so ordained during preparation
for holy signs,
at the strumm
of the weforming twang
from yesterdays held true,
through better living science,

consciously infecting certain beliefs,
relieving consciously convicting beliefs,

--- slowly think with me about leaving
leaven levels of tiny ever so scientific proof
we know how bread and beer work and we do

have the power to contemplate an image,
in light coming through a window in my hand,

for a chance glance back at Earth, in my mind

softes' yes suggestions flying old whys men tell…

chawn, spat, proves that's this,
that's all
call it seed if you feed it…
essential truth's witnessed, seen by all
trained
to trust the priest's protection

from the wrath
of jealous gods,,,,stutterin'
on orders at tense state
all ethos focus
on us
as we be
at the hands
of zealous guardians,

brought
to veritable virtuous
opus facere, work made duty, done…

as we march past 1963
into Pretoria

to the tune inspired by
"Marching Through Georgia"
written
by Henry C. Work
at the end
of the Civil War.

The first most children learn,
in Georgia and Texas and Cajun Caddo lands.
following the leaders singing as we go
march march march behind
one hundred and ten coronets, lustily singing,
aaahaaa ahwee
WE screech
in change
as boys, in drilled,
are marching because
we are proudly trained
to trust the leader,
from our gut, good gut feeling
for the role, the mind, empathos, so…
the leader, we are following the leader,
breathe, and think slowly, the breathe thing
hold,
oh, say,
can you see,
by the bombs bursting in air,

does the signal still wave across time's
one chance, your one experience---
reasoning at Isaiah and ai as we
novel experience effort
to follow a thread,
in a day, twice
partaking
in the weform home here,
the home
of the free and the brave,

eh, we can take the land, Caleb's attitude.
Proving the promise, bearing good fruit,
call that Roman god of manure,
he's good, I promise, good fruit,
here's an old image of me'n'joshua
Lugging grapefruit proof, the promise,
lead us educator, provide legal precedent,

to the convincer go the spoils,
be not easily convinced you know truths told
made you as you believe you must be, alone,

sole possessor
of your eyes and finger patterns,
soul and spirit scienced out
in digital cyphers,
hand shakes and drive by ads,
mathed out max mind bend, done
finger abacus conceived and worked out,
finished fruiting mortal minds, pile up,
--- here, GIGO, the ra' knowing, piles as haps,
per haps
and may haps
by means
of trails not left
and, when siloed
while fearing the worst,
caught fire and all went up in smoke
what could happen, some say prophets teach,
what could happen is the thing one fears comes,
when
to be or not is peaceably
askable
unmaskable,

remove the veil,
recall the terror
of a child, sealed, sore worn
in this poet's core, occupied, unsealed,

unrolled scrolls
eaten and digested, seven decades,
as a child given
to the gods who fix fertilizers
around spring-alinging peaces
opus fund prime bridgingifery, as today
pontificates a chasm if
by odd chance
today
continues being called universally right now,
the instance
in agreeing prayer asking
what day was it when we first agreed?

whose time am I using
without price or cost,

living logic word
after word, mine given, I swore
should I be called
to test if I qualify
to die, right,
I'd be this ready
to say let it be, let's see

today would be the day I'd learn, you know.
or what if we made it to the end, then knew,'
estimate the worth of seasons changing
after your heart was struck by focused lightning
nnn old nand and nand gate anded on a plate,
charged?
Wanna bet? Oh, no,
just take a minutes peace,
just breathe and feel toucht
the wedom 's a shape charge

like a ****,
in a public mind, let be a stinker,
because it was cute, mind, let be easily,

let's make believe,
let's so
in hopes
of sufficiency and some
to share,
reset enough
to enough, value declare
enough is enough
to share, even if

the worst we can imagine happens anyway,
we just knew it would,

sooner or later.
Found whole at once, earlier today
Donall Dempsey Mar 2024
THE USELESSNESS OF MAPS

you were
always
the bit

where the map
creased & tore
leaving us unsure

looking through
a hole
at our own big toe

you were
always
the bit

where the map
was folded in four
and had to be

awkwardly unfolded
just to see
where you were

you were
always
the bit

that was just off
this map
ending in mid air...

...see next map:
...the issing
...map

you were
always
the lost map

you were
often
the wrong map

the map that
there was...
...no map of

*

A charming friend who could be a terrible person...who when she died got transformed into "our wonderful kind understanding etc., etc.," Or all the things she wasn't in flesh and blood. In real life she would stand you up...let you down...lie...etc., etc. I had a dream that I went into a shop and asked for "...a Map of Death please!" and the shopkeeper said he had just sold the last one to my friend. Hence the poem that came about that told what she had been really like but through the medium of maps.

Obviously when you write a poem you chose the balance of mood and words and what to leave in and what to leave out so that you focus on whatever emotional trajectory you come in on and that gives you the mental landscape of what you have elected to view.

Come in on a different emotional trajectory and you get a completely different landscape of the mind...a whole new planet Poem. So the backstory may be left out until you have to tell it or fill it out or write a different poem. Going to a reading in Paris  and learning that the theme has to be of death and its whatfors and wherefors... meant that this poem which I happened to have in my possession suddenly forced the background story to the forefront...so the explanation comes about 2 years after the writing of the poem. In time this backstory or the view of the story as seen from this point of perspective may in itself become the poem that eclipses this one in a total eclipse of the art.

— The End —