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statictitanic Nov 2014
I want you
to rip every vein from my skin
pull them out like worms from the ground
touch my blood
and **** in the pure guilt
I have drowned myself in
pull my teeth out
and drag them along my naked body
carve shapes into this dead, papery flesh
don't forget the ruby red lipstick
cake it onto my betraying, seductive lips
let your arms travel everywhere it pleases
yank my hair
grab the strands and brush them over my face
my finger nails, paint them white like purity
wrapped in the ****** Mary
Last, don't forget my
heart
Rip it from the connecting arteries
and let me feel the sting
and watch your hands too, tinted in my beautiful red

I am your canvas
I am your doll
I am your **** that
Nobody will ever know
Because under all this...
I'm dead.
Poet kiri Jan 2016
A letter to my dear,
Sons and daughters
In a foreign language
Not known in my time,
But with hope in yours.
Where they may have fixed the
Imbalance of life.

I wish not to depress you,
But repress your mind
As my first impression is to point
A finger to time
The one whom answers
Questions in installments.

For this man once put me on stage
And my agenda was to impress
Twice to the infinite I could count
But I couldn’t find that one in my life.
Where are you?


Thus the nature I was born in,
Is to interest the world
And not bore it with normality
Not knowing that peace comes in many ways

For this foreign language
Seems to be a new era
Of blank pages that could be
Filled with one word
GREATNESS.

For yesterday I did things of shame
That are great for a story
That would become fame
Just the perfect ice breaker in my time.
Tip for if you ever find\have TIMEtoTRAVEL

Thus my vote belonged to extinction,
Since…



Justice is a commodity
Of the rich
As poverty is beautiful
Beautiful without the eye’s of the lens.

Though I don’t have doesn’t mean
Am not/I can’t
As My sight is set to the sky
Chasing a flower in the clouds as
I am still on the ground investing an idea.


Thus the gap of the market to success
Is the economics of humanities fate
As the scarcity of fear rises
Demand and supply seem to be losing
In a relation of ships
At  bay lacking goods.
On this graphic coordinates

Just may you understand
Humanity has no time to
Find you in the dark
For smoke signals will be put out
Neither translate your existence
If it’s not the curiosity that killed the cat.
Like “Chuck Norris whom speaks French in Russian”.

For they live on a constant
Quote status of
“I am available, but busy
At school watching a movie,
While at work
With a battery about to die
So I can’t talk, Whats App only
In a meeting at the gym
Sleeping on urgent calls only.”

As I myself live knowing
I speak a FOREIGN LANGUAGE ……
What is your translation of my existence???
For it seems your mistaken and troubled.
For generations to come.

Yours sincerely;
Poet Kiri
N. HANNY L.


PS: Life has gone digital
       Thus its STATUS RATED ®.
                                     Yours truly;
                                       Is to be the ONE.


©Hansmind, 2016
Hello again to all.
Thanks a lot for your support each and every day.
MAY YOU READ , ENJOY, LIKE AND SHARE ALL AROUND THE WORLD.
Thank you so much again.
( The ending poem of collection STATUS RATED R.)
Jay Jimenez Jan 2013
twisted like the twistie tie on my bread
I look into your eyes and picture whats going in your head
I grasp your soft little hand
and watch as your lips say words that I'll soon forget.
I'm a stupid boy
that doesnt understand body langauge
forgive me sweetie
forgive me for being so dumb
but as our toes dip into the cold water
our bodies go numb
succumb to my stupidty
put up with my failures and my mistakes
and wait for that golden moment
when you realize
that even though im flawed
im the best you'll ever have
in this wasteland
we will survive
and I'll love you till the day
I die
till the day
I die
Odd Odyssey Poet Feb 2022
This language of love—

how do I express it without the words...

where do I place it without the touch...

when do I show it without my eyes...  

what do I have without the heart...

who do I love without the reason...

and why do I fall in without the love?

                  My love language...
Luke R E Webster Apr 2013
Slowly decaying,
under no pressure,
time will pass,
without measure.

In a box,
alone with love,
future fleeting,
for all to see.

By the wayside,
across the bay,
people few,
none can save.

Time to end,
as false life beckons,
Poets lone,
langauge lessens.
Vanessa Gatley Apr 2019
Learn
Accommodate
Now
Good
A ur
Goals
Every day
lionheartlion Sep 2015
Drunken thoughts.
Not too late at night but just when the party starts.
I'm reminded of how much I used to be in love.
But this saddens me.
I know now that it was partially a sham.
False hopes and dreams were hidden in the silence you never spoke of.
Fantasies of what this future would be like with you by my side, but all I see is the ghost of you in my memories.
You guys don't understand how longingly wrenching it is to realize you never had the same intentions and dreams as I.
That you never spoke of your dreams because you knew they would break my heart.
Here we are, me wondering if things were as passionate for you as they were for me.
If all those sayings, words, and feelings, were just spoken to give you something before you actually left.
If I was kept around to be strung out until the end giving you everything you knew I would have.
I was so in love with you.
You knew it too.
You knew I would have stayed by your side until you told me to leave.
That even if I had known the truth of your unwanting, I still would have loved you with the darkened heart I owned.
Turned dark for you.
Left as the one who was emotionally attached by love for you.
You left as the one physically attached to me, body langauge proving to be the only thing you miss.
Maybe you miss my smile, maybe you miss my beauty.
Maybe you miss the ***.
But I miss the emotional attachment of my once best friend.
The one who talked about my dreams with me.
The one who held me as I cried about losing you.
The one who told me to look to our star when I feared of never seeing you again.
But not once did you understand what you were putting me through.
You left and I doubt you ever felt bad about leaving me.
Because I could never do that to you and then cut you out of my life like it was nothing.
Maybe I still love you.
It'is awful-e clere,
Righting just write.
En a langauge like t-his,
Culd bee, quiet confuseing.
A difficult way to know beauty, is to learn a language.

— The End —