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avalon Dec 2017
can you feel yourself dying?  
do you feel the earth as it burns
as it's turning, twisting
and spiraling so violently
the friction sends sparks
into galaxies? can you taste
the life as it's leaving you?
as it's rippling out of your
fingers and snatching the breath
that's knocked out of you?
do you cringe as your edges
are singed by the fire
surrounding you? as the oceans
subside and the planet decides
that erosion's
just your
point of view.
Lizzy Apr 2015
So now I'm alone again,
Wishing we were more than friends.
You made me feel wanted,
With you I was home.
Now I'm begging you please,
Don't go.
I'm not good on my own.

This blindside,
It's knocked me off my feet.
You feel guilty,
I feel dead.
I never should have showed you,
What goes on in my head.
Dear god what's wrong with me?

What is it,
That makes everyone leave?
Is it the way that I look?
Do I talk in my sleep?
You say it's not me,
But I'm the one you're leaving.
We're crying in my room,
My cries have turned to screams.

So now I'm alone again,
Wishing this would end.
Torn between running back,
And never seeing you again.
How do you take back,
All those things you said?
You feel guilty,
I feel dead.

This is what's inside my head.
You feel guilty,
I feel dead.
This is gonna be one angsty Pop punk song
Purcy Flaherty Mar 2018
A little green frog is trying to catch my eye!
A little green frog is trying to catch my eye!
It’s a tadpole-lite; it's lily lies,
It's sticky poison and feminine whiles,
A little green frog is trying to catch my eye!
-
Hoppity, hoppity, hoppity, drama!
-
A little green frog is trying to catch my ear!
A little green frog is trying to catch my ear!
It's mouth is full of flies and it's belly's full of lies.
A little green frog trying to catch my ear!
-
Hoppity, hoppity, hoppity, drama!
-
A little green frog is trying to catch my boat!
A little green frog is trying to stay afloat!
It's got two knocked knees and two bent legs,
a plastic smile and a crazy head.
A little green frog is trying to catch my boat!
-
Hoppity, hoppity, hoppity, drama!
-
A little green frog is trying to catch my eye!
A little green frog is trying to catch a ride!
It's up and down all night long;
splashing about in the water,
A little green frog's still tryin' to catch my ...
A little green frog's still tryin' to catch my...
A little green frog's tryin' to catch a ride.
There's no point in trying to engage with little green frogs!
They're quite mundane, just splashing about catching flys
please find the link to the song below
https://youtu.be/ScJiXD7map8
Alyssa Underwood May 2016
Feelings, and feelings, and feelings. Let me try thinking instead. From the rational point of view, what new factor has H.’s death introduced into the problem of the universe? What grounds has it given me for doubting all that I believe? I knew already that these things, and worse, happened daily. I would have said that I had taken them into account. I had been warned—I had warned myself—not to reckon on worldly happiness. We were even promised sufferings. They were part of the program. We were even told, ‘Blessed are they that mourn,’ and I accepted it. I’ve got nothing that I hadn’t bargained for. Of course it is different when the thing happens to oneself, not to others, and in reality, not in imagination. Yes; but should it, for a sane man, make quite such a difference as this? No. And it wouldn’t for a man whose faith had been real faith and whose concern for other people’s sorrows had been real concern. The case is too plain. If my house has collapsed at one blow, that is because it was a house of cards. The faith which ‘took these things into account’ was not faith but imagination. The taking them into account was not real sympathy. If I had really cared, as I thought I did, about the sorrows of the world, I should not have been so overwhelmed when my own sorrow came. It has been an imaginary faith playing with innocuous counters labelled ‘Illness,’ ‘Pain,’ ‘Death,’ and ‘Loneliness.’ I thought I trusted the rope until it mattered to me whether it would bear me. Now it matters, and I find I didn’t.

Bridge-players tell me that there must be some money on the game ‘or else people won’t take it seriously.’ Apparently it’s like that. Your bid—for God or no God, for a good God or the Cosmic Sadist, for eternal life or nonentity—will not be serious if nothing much is staked on it. And you will never discover how serious it was until the stakes are raised horribly high, until you find that you are playing not for counters or for sixpences but for every penny you have in the world. Nothing less will shake a man—or at any rate a man like me—out of his merely verbal thinking and his merely notional beliefs. He has to be knocked silly before he comes to his senses. Only torture will bring out the truth. Only under torture does he discover it himself.

And I must surely admit—H. would have forced me to admit in a few passes—that, if my house was a house of cards, the sooner it was knocked down the better. And only suffering could do it...

                                                          ­                  ~ C.S. Lewis
Eden Oct 2018
i didn’t quite understand
until judas knocked at my door
and held my hands in his
“I forgive you,”
he told me
“now forgive yourself.”
steady now, your hands are shaking.
Bus Poet Stop Apr 2015
eye sometimes go to bed wearing an old hoody. It has a metal zipper  to close the front and the zipper is always cold, unpleasantly so, on my bare skin.  After awhile though, my body temperature warms the metal just enough, that it is no longer a cause of discomfort though the metal still remains inherently cool to the touch

While science can easily explain this I guess, I felt this to be a major miracle.  That flesh pliable and heart-heated to 98 degrees could conquer the molecules of metal that were made in China struck me as extra ordinary (always two words, please!) and nothing short of a personal intervention by a personal deity

When I put the hoodie on at first I would think
******* (that's cold)
When I awoke, cosy and warm, I would think
******* (that's so cool)

having studied philosophy in Cleveland,
I knew that the logic of the situation,
what I had experienced was not an
interregnum, but the invisible intervening handiwork of god, who, also knocked my glasses from the nightable to the floor,
just cause she/ he was in a bad mood, on account of having to come such a long way, just,
to reheat me
one more time.
In terre gnum - freedom from the terror of chewing gum discard actions and a phobia of gnus
Ben Jones Dec 2016
Billy loved his parsnip
He'd tend it day and night
To keep it safe from prying eyes
He stashed it out of sight
But one eventful morning
He awoke to such alarm
His parsnip had gone from puny
To the size of a baby's arm

Such growth was nigh unheard of
In a vegetable or fruit
So he bore it proud before him
Grasped expertly by the root
When he showed his doting mother
She was mightily impressed
So screamed a lot then swooned a bit
While clutching at her chest

The people at the bus stop
Shared his mother's admiration
But advised him that his tuber
Needed urgent relocation
So he took it in a taxi
Wrapped up in folded gauze
To the Guinness book of records
And he pushed apart the doors

His parsnip held protruding
With a confident advance
Like a knight atop his charger
With a huge organic lance
But security had seen him
They quickly knocked him flat
A policeman saw his parsnip
And he hid it with his hat

Billy served his sentence
For unsavory displaying
He changed his name to Danny
There's no record where he's staying
The moral of this sorry tale
Is far too dull to write
So learn your ****** vegetables
And know their names on sight

**
Sam Hawkins Apr 2013
Saturate and brimming of my hometown Boston,
of its sunshine Marathon peoples and bomb images,
my heart fracture rend.

On the third day—resurrection of all my sadness
came to me, feeling fresh and born to fruition,
so this grew.

It grew and through my tears coming,
I stood to witness two loving sparrows
on a window branch.

My sadness at some abeyance, studying and curious
I was of her--all akimbo shivers and rock-in-roll, of him--
flying feathered stone, rolling from branch to branch
and coming home, repeatedly.

Circles flying within moving circles!

Did something happen
with the last jiggle of her branch?

Did you see that? Science says
what they were doing—they had finished.

(But what to believe of Science?
It calls their loving--mating rather).

Now to tell you—the sequencing was this:
when I was full knocked down
on account of my grief,
and I hardly had strength to go on,
a Beatles song flew in and gently pierced my heart,
singing to my ear: Why don't we do it in the road...
no one will be watching us...why, why don't we do it


O, Spring Life of Sparrow surprises!
Open road, that budding tree,
any new notion is something grand!

How do I say now? That you two
were most helpful, your innocence
forever abiding?

Fly off Sparrows, forever prayer!
I speak this with all my love.
Kim May 2015
Make it through make it true
Lay it bare if you dare
Banish doubt make it count
Look around you’ve made it there

Shout it far show your scars
Fill the day with twenty-four hours
This is it what we’ve got
Looks like **** but it’s ours

You see this life filled with strife
So much hurt so much pain
Now you win now you lose
One man’s loss another’s gain

It wasn’t meant to be pretty
Empty towns ***** cities
People all around have issues
Insecure, lost and misused

You can choose to stay and fight
Assert yourself claim your rights
Or decide to turn away
Make your mark another day

Showing up is half the battle
Knocked down back in the saddle
It’s not the wins and the losses
It’s the learning it’s a process

At the end of the day
Stop and do the math
Those who've made hay
Don’t have to look back.
Siyana Aug 9
The warmth and softness of her lips,
I felt her sensuality, placed through her kiss...
The midnight conversations, the laughter, the fights.
Little did we know, what would happen tonight.
The rosary knocked itself to the floor,
Now your father is knocking on the door...
"Girls, are you ready for church?"
Her hands placed in mine, under my skirt.
"Not yet, we'll be fifteen minutes."
He leaves. She comes. Now I've felt healing.
Blinking red plasma
kaleidoscopic frame rate

"RED means insane"

"put a silver in! put two!"

The flashing
King of States
holding a minigun

"is that metal?"

"looks like bullets"

"tilt the wrist, tilt the wrist"

a glass of spiced ice
knocked over
sticky floors

"who cares!"

"where was the proximity?"

"what?"

"of rendevoux"

the liminality of spinning



"shoot him!"
LexiSully Jan 2016
I'm lost in the never ending pit of my own confusion
Swaying left to right
Held up only by the wind blowing me to and fro

If only my feelings could make their opinion known,
But they long to remain hidden among the whispers of the swirling breeze

I attempt to stand
Only to be knocked back to the dust
Which leaves me dizzy and disoriented

If only the whirling tempest would cease to throw its fiery darts,
But they fail to notice me calling for a ceasefire

So I am left, lost and astray, on the cold ground,
While the gusts continue to becloud the world around me.
Eloisa Feb 10
The winter fairy has again knocked on my door with a lovely gift of today
With a little sunshine hue
this morning she arrived with tiny friends
Still sulking in darkness and in my melancholic silence
I got up and tried to peek
A little smile then curved my lips
happily singing their winter songs
on a frail tree branch were birds with tiny feet

The gift of laughter that I heard suddenly gave me hope
Winter is not only a season of gloom, of tears and of despair
Its beauty is also a season for peace,  for thinking and for memories
Because of my new feathered friends
a reminder so I write today
That for any season that we have
to feel untroubled or miserable is our choice to make
Matt Shade Sep 2014
Such a noble little poet,
who thinks the future is in your hands
when it's in your head; poetry is dead.
But age does bring wisdom (after the fall)
so what good is it screaming at the wall,
with still some good numbers to call?
Who's there? Who are you speaking to?
You're so cute. Nobody can hear you.
What good is it screaming at the wall
when our doors are never locked?
Come to me instead, you've never even knocked.
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