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"legitimately" poems
-Light up a cliche under a streetlight while singing "the Star Spangled Banner" and receiving oral from a trans-woman. **** in the drive-thru of an Arby's. -Fist fight a bear that people find much uglier than myself. Made a bucket list of **** I think might be legitimately worth doing; haven't run it by my girlfriend yet. Speaking of which, she deserves a round of applause for dealing with my melodramatic ******** -Strike a police officer, after robbing a bank with a water pistol. I wanted to call her to let her know I'd chased a bird till it crossed the street and tweeted at me in anger or excitement. Flipping the bird "the bird", I shouted, **** YOU BIRD!" and continued home. -Throw a rock at a train. -Toss a Molotov Cocktail at a moving car, and cook a hot dog in the flames. She deserves a million dollars and a ******* Nobel peace prize. -Call one of those panhandling money worshiping televangelists a **** bird, and offer them to **** themselves [the ugliest people I can think of]. -Wear a habit over a burka. I don't believe in souls, soul mates, anything supernatural or special, but I love that woman, and that's why I believe in love. -Not die alone.
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Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 12:51 PM UTC
"If Your Bucket List has Sky Diving, You're a ******** [and Other Statements I'll Regret Saying]."
1 Her thick  dark eyebrows did cast a spell first, they are stuck there like vampire bats, they both symbolize  a sinister plot, kept secret, with a 'come hither' prompt, none can resist. She attracted artists in hordes, crazy moths, never did they look above her face,the serpents, lay tangled and acted as if it's smooth coiffure. Wicked lust,aroused by bitter past,                                     made her move with keen  intent an invisible net she carried behind her back. She attacked at opportune moments, pretending she is a lover, with insatiable lust in boil. 2 All crafted lies, simultaneously,she artfully solicited,        colored moths, in her slow fire, they burned, one by one, but one remained stuck there for life, fearing rejection every moment. A crop of heads she reaped , wherever she went, a kite was ever ready to fly her victim-hood colors higher and higher, that made admirers **** in their breath and stoop, before her to her advantage, she had no dearth for volunteers any time. Burning words made her chants fly like fire works, her collection of heads turned stones by admiring her increased, as a huntress she was an ace stuffed in her cubbyhole of a heart, heads of stone languished. 3 Medusa,you don't have sisters, I count it the luck of those  unborn how beautiful, you once were I still remember, though no sun visited the north you spent your childhood. Run, run my feared beauty, to the sun, before your heart get charred by the heat of hatred, you bear in the  Gothic interiors. 4 I hate Perseus, don't you fear your Nemesis? Every Athena you wrongly think your foe  and fight, all your hair turned serpents, still I thought, love would work, without  coming upfront, I kept my flame burning, but all in vein, you could never love anyone, legitimately or otherwise. Your blood, all of it, has turned venom, you spit it, slowly its beauty amazes, even  the victims on the line next...
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Jul 4, 2013
Jul 4, 2013 at 2:33 PM UTC
To Medusa, yet again a love poem
1 Her thick  dark eyebrows did cast a spell first, they are stuck there like vampire bats, they both symbolize  a sinister plot, kept secret, with a 'come hither' prompt, none can resist. She attracted artists in hordes, crazy moths, never did they look above her face,the serpents, lay tangled and acted as if it's smooth coiffure. Wicked lust,aroused by bitter past,                                     made her move with keen  intent an invisible net she carried behind her back. She attacked at opportune moments, pretending she is a lover, with insatiable lust in boil. 2 All crafted lies, simultaneously,she artfully solicited,        colored moths, in her slow fire, they burned, one by one, but one remained stuck there for life, fearing rejection every moment. A crop of heads she reaped , wherever she went, a kite was ever ready to fly her victim-hood colors higher and higher, that made admirers **** in their breath and stoop, before her to her advantage, she had no dearth for volunteers any time. Burning words made her chants fly like fire works, her collection of heads turned stones by admiring her increased, as a huntress she was an ace stuffed in her cubbyhole of a heart, heads of stone languished. 3 Medusa,you don't have sisters, I count it the luck of those  unborn how beautiful, you once were I still remember, though no sun visited the north you spent your childhood. Run, run my feared beauty, to the sun, before your heart get charred by the heat of hatred, you bear in the  Gothic interiors. 4 I hate Perseus, don't you fear your Nemesis? Every Athena you wrongly think your foe  and fight, all your hair turned serpents, still I thought, love would work, without  coming upfront, I kept my flame burning, but all in vein, you could never love anyone, legitimately or otherwise. Your blood, all of it, has turned venom, you spit it, slowly its beauty amazes, even  the victims on the line next...
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40
Seriously?? You're seriously bringing that up now?? After everything you've put us through, You're going to hold this over my head Right now?? I can't believe this. I knew you were childish But this is reaching new lows Even for you. I mean, Who brings up a mistake I made Ten years ago when I was legitimately a kid. I mean, Who doesn't forgive a child For not knowing any better And messing up huge that one time. But you never were one who fought fair. You used every ***** trick not in the book And then some. You Lied,   Manipulated, Schemed, Guilted, Violated, Demanded, Demeaned, Degraded, Beat, Beat, Beat, Me into the ground Until I believed that I was shorter than Thumbelina, And responsible for all the chaos in your life. Blinded by childish hero worship, I trusted you when you told me I was the reason things weren't working out. But the child is not responsible For the failed marriage of her parents. The child is not responsible For her parents' lack of communication. The child is not responsible. But you're still living like I am. So I'm not gonna take this anymore. I'm not gonna sit here, stand here, stay here, And listen to your convoluted messed up reality. I've got my own life to live. My own memories to make. My own mistakes to learn from. My own family to find and have and raise. And I sure as hell don't need Someone like you coming back in And telling me I'm less than I really am, Cause the truth is, Mom, I'm a lot more than you'll ever be.
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Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 11:50 PM UTC
Don't Talk to Me; I'm not Listening to Your Lies
You've got some real nerve thinking we could be friends again, And I've got a real problem telling right from wrong again, I think I stood strong, you still wouldn't admit you were wrong, I understand I was harsh, but don't forget how you led me on, You threw me away and ruined what we had, After you found more strife in another man, Now I'm ****** up, because you couldn't keep your legs shut, I know you'll try and talk to me again this year, But this time, I might legitimately give a ****
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Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 1:11 PM UTC
Relapsing
You can experience it Coming from most of The writers around the Block of Writers Block Only to be saved by the Bunch of Writers from The Writers' Block. They can call you names, Ranging from A ****** To A Grammar **** But don't be put off, Don't be put out, Just hold on. Hold your ground. You might have OCD, The Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Don't worry - just channel it well. Channel it well and play your tunes, Don't worry about the runes, They will be all covered with ink. Yes, the electronic ink. For all eternity, they say, You can never achieve perfection, And it should not concern you. Just remember your wordlust, Coin new and better words, Just play your sweet lute. Yes, you are so cute. "What's so cataclysmic about the apostrophe?" You asked me, And legitimately so. It's the difference 'tween us, Perfection and poets, Godliness and humaneness. Divinity and profanity. "Yes, perfection is sacrilege," I say, "Perfection is an ambition," "Of humanity and nature." I take a deep breath before saying, "In the knowledge available," "It's just a figment." You ask me, "Where is it located?" I say: Find it 'fore some letters, You can find it afta' some letters, Lockin'n'poppin words together, The apostrophe is so savoury & flexible I just hope that I never become, A Grammar Apostate - I'll rather be ill instead.
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Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 12:51 PM UTC
Apostrophe Apocalypse
I miss you more than you seem to know. ......She misses you too. We talk more often now though Because it helps that we get it, I think. I'm not really sure how to react to all this You being so....lost. I sort of got into the habit of looking at you For directions. Because I wanted to be like you, somewhat. You're amazing, you know that? You're the moon and the sun and autumn and ....and all the little things that bring about large smiles. I wish I could put it to a rhyme scheme. She's breaking. Not as bad as she could be But she is breaking. I don't want to watch that. I didn't sign up for this. I didn't want to have to watch my friends crumble. Friends. I can't even label you two as that. It doesn't fit. You're so much more than that. I want. I need. The point is, you're more than 'friends'. You're both so ridiculously beautiful, y'know? It's not even fair or okay because people like you don't exist. But I'm glad you do. It's pretty ****** that I only managed to write this now. I shouldn't even be writing this, honestly. I should be biding my time until you get back. I should wait maybe two weeks before I call you both. And then I should sit you down and explain it to your faces. I'd probably lose some friends doing that, though. I'm terrified of losing you guys. Like, legitimately, panic attack worthy, terrified. It keeps me up at night, sometimes. Because I love you guys. Scary, right? I'm not used to saying that and meaning it. I love you guys. I want to see you two for a long time. While I'm emptying my heart, I should mention That I wrote a lot of poetry about you two Including this, and it saved me, I think. I get where you are, and I've been there. I am there. But it'd be great if you'd stay. If you'd both stay. I don't wanna stick around without you guys. You're something special and amazing and addictive.... And so, so, brokenly perfect. So yeah. I guess I just wanted to say "I Miss You" And get all this off my chest. Because I need you here and she needs you here But until you can be here, I can write poetry.
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May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 8:55 AM UTC
I Miss You
I miss you more than you seem to know. ......She misses you too. We talk more often now though Because it helps that we get it, I think. I'm not really sure how to react to all this You being so....lost. I sort of got into the habit of looking at you For directions. Because I wanted to be like you, somewhat. You're amazing, you know that? You're the moon and the sun and autumn and ....and all the little things that bring about large smiles. I wish I could put it to a rhyme scheme. She's breaking. Not as bad as she could be But she is breaking. I don't want to watch that. I didn't sign up for this. I didn't want to have to watch my friends crumble. Friends. I can't even label you two as that. It doesn't fit. You're so much more than that. I want. I need. The point is, you're more than 'friends'. You're both so ridiculously beautiful, y'know? It's not even fair or okay because people like you don't exist. But I'm glad you do. It's pretty ****** that I only managed to write this now. I shouldn't even be writing this, honestly. I should be biding my time until you get back. I should wait maybe two weeks before I call you both. And then I should sit you down and explain it to your faces. I'd probably lose some friends doing that, though. I'm terrified of losing you guys. Like, legitimately, panic attack worthy, terrified. It keeps me up at night, sometimes. Because I love you guys. Scary, right? I'm not used to saying that and meaning it. I love you guys. I want to see you two for a long time. While I'm emptying my heart, I should mention That I wrote a lot of poetry about you two Including this, and it saved me, I think. I get where you are, and I've been there. I am there. But it'd be great if you'd stay. If you'd both stay. I don't wanna stick around without you guys. You're something special and amazing and addictive.... And so, so, brokenly perfect. So yeah. I guess I just wanted to say "I Miss You" And get all this off my chest. Because I need you here and she needs you here But until you can be here, I can write poetry.
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48
Take your pills, go to therapy, Take your pills. go to therapy “get better” Take your pills, go to therapy, Tell yourself you’re getting better “You’re getting sick again ariana, we will raise your dose” Take your pills, go to therapy “Am i getting any better, am i healthier? do i look sick?” Take your pills, go to therapy Take your pills, go to therapy “Why are you doing this to yourself Ariana?” Take your pills, go to therapy Take your pills, go to therapy help “how do i get the maggot thoughts that crawl into my head and tell me i’m inadequate, trifling?” “It’s all circumstantial, and that is what we need to mend and patch” Give me your mental diagnosis-diagnonsense Go ahead, tell me what you’ve espied when you sat oneself down and perched your virtuoso intellect in my head “oh yes, you comprehend you understand Everything. You know me deeper than i know my self” “We are getting somewhere, we are moving forward you are progressing!” Take your pills, go to therapy Take your pills, go to therapy You must be pleased as punch you’re finally fixing me dismally i disinform you, i lied Why you may inquire? Not one can understand ones speculations or thoughts unless they are legitimately situated in my chamber of a lugubrious trench filled with distasteful maggots which leave dolorous contusions-bruises and thoughts that leave me questioning reality, questioning my essence, questioning myself Take your pills, go to therapy Take your pills, go to therapy If i were in deed reviving from the sorrow i would no longer have these god awful scars and bruises You can’t tell me i am not out of ones tree when you scarcely know me At times I’m not sure if i even know me___________________________________________________________________________
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May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 3:15 PM UTC
diagnosis-diagnonsense
Take your pills, go to therapy, Take your pills. go to therapy “get better” Take your pills, go to therapy, Tell yourself you’re getting better “You’re getting sick again ariana, we will raise your dose” Take your pills, go to therapy “Am i getting any better, am i healthier? do i look sick?” Take your pills, go to therapy Take your pills, go to therapy “Why are you doing this to yourself Ariana?” Take your pills, go to therapy Take your pills, go to therapy help “how do i get the maggot thoughts that crawl into my head and tell me i’m inadequate, trifling?” “It’s all circumstantial, and that is what we need to mend and patch” Give me your mental diagnosis-diagnonsense Go ahead, tell me what you’ve espied when you sat oneself down and perched your virtuoso intellect in my head “oh yes, you comprehend you understand Everything. You know me deeper than i know my self” “We are getting somewhere, we are moving forward you are progressing!” Take your pills, go to therapy Take your pills, go to therapy You must be pleased as punch you’re finally fixing me dismally i disinform you, i lied Why you may inquire? Not one can understand ones speculations or thoughts unless they are legitimately situated in my chamber of a lugubrious trench filled with distasteful maggots which leave dolorous contusions-bruises and thoughts that leave me questioning reality, questioning my essence, questioning myself Take your pills, go to therapy Take your pills, go to therapy If i were in deed reviving from the sorrow i would no longer have these god awful scars and bruises You can’t tell me i am not out of ones tree when you scarcely know me At times I’m not sure if i even know me___________________________________________________________________________
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38
Tonight the Robin flew. Left the land of once was . Now in eternal peace. Walked into the light. Flown legitimately. Robin left the planet. Set Mandela free! And into the light he steps. From non-religious English girl ..Goodnight sweet sleep and rest in eternal peace. Slaap goed vader van Afrika-lande (c) Livvi Kent!5/12/2013
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Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 5:37 PM UTC
The Robin Flew!
§ When you love someone more than they will ever love you It grinds you down. Invariable disintegration Of self esteem and ability to experience joy Occur when someone is betrayed maliciously By someone they legitimately love. The only remedy for this agony Is to surrender wholeheartedly to your love, Until, Either they love you as much as you love them, Or you die, In which case, It won't matter. Love is arsenic killing the bacteria in the milk, And slowly poisoning your spirit. The only antidote is surrender.
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Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 10:08 AM UTC
Antidote
When you're lost with no destination, Conflicted as to which is the "right" path, And trying to be proud of where you're coming from, You begin to feel like the whole world is fighting you. But unfortunately, You hung up your gloves what seems like years ago Because you knew that all fighting gets you is a mouthful of blood The tears you'd promised yourself you'd hold in drip down your fuming cheeks. So, you take them. The punches, that is. Why? Because you deserve them Or, at least you feel like you do… Maybe it's because the pain is the only thing you're sure about anymore. Or because you've blown away every last wish you've ever had with a dandelion. Because you are legitimately invisible to the one you love so much it hurts Because you make yourself invisible. You'd put a bullet through your throat. Either way, you take each individual blow. You choke on it. You can't breath. You're drowning... above water. I'm sorry to say, but all the lifeguards are too busy saving those who's lives are worth it. But, why isn't yours "worth it?" Shouldn't it be? Well, they don't think so. Who are they? I think you should ask them for yourself… But they'll never confess to who they really are. They are the judges, the critics. The world to put it simply. They claim you're the one with the issues, but you know that it's they who need rescuing. You're both drowning. But, they push down on you in order to float Because that's how physics works. You're both gasping, lungs burning, living but wishing you were dying. And you pray. Because praying is different than wishing. Dreaming. When you pray, you know there’s absolutely nothing left that you can do. It’s out of your power. But, where is your God now? You pray to something you can’t see or feel, but you can’t afford to wait. You’re done. It’s not up to you anymore. And that’s when the little white pieces begin to fly. The little white pieces of you. The little white pieces of your soul. They rise, as if victorious, and float up to who knows where to do who knows what. You don’t know. You’re done. But the feather wisps of your soul are carried away Along with you, and what you were to become.
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Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 6:44 PM UTC
As if victorious
When you're lost with no destination, Conflicted as to which is the "right" path, And trying to be proud of where you're coming from, You begin to feel like the whole world is fighting you. But unfortunately, You hung up your gloves what seems like years ago Because you knew that all fighting gets you is a mouthful of blood The tears you'd promised yourself you'd hold in drip down your fuming cheeks. So, you take them. The punches, that is. Why? Because you deserve them Or, at least you feel like you do… Maybe it's because the pain is the only thing you're sure about anymore. Or because you've blown away every last wish you've ever had with a dandelion. Because you are legitimately invisible to the one you love so much it hurts Because you make yourself invisible. You'd put a bullet through your throat. Either way, you take each individual blow. You choke on it. You can't breath. You're drowning... above water. I'm sorry to say, but all the lifeguards are too busy saving those who's lives are worth it. But, why isn't yours "worth it?" Shouldn't it be? Well, they don't think so. Who are they? I think you should ask them for yourself… But they'll never confess to who they really are. They are the judges, the critics. The world to put it simply. They claim you're the one with the issues, but you know that it's they who need rescuing. You're both drowning. But, they push down on you in order to float Because that's how physics works. You're both gasping, lungs burning, living but wishing you were dying. And you pray. Because praying is different than wishing. Dreaming. When you pray, you know there’s absolutely nothing left that you can do. It’s out of your power. But, where is your God now? You pray to something you can’t see or feel, but you can’t afford to wait. You’re done. It’s not up to you anymore. And that’s when the little white pieces begin to fly. The little white pieces of you. The little white pieces of your soul. They rise, as if victorious, and float up to who knows where to do who knows what. You don’t know. You’re done. But the feather wisps of your soul are carried away Along with you, and what you were to become.
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53
May my ignorance blind me. For I'm a product of the 90's, Instead of being like Jesus,   we all wanted to be like Mike. Is that facetious? Or sound just about right? Right...? No Left, Child Act Behind... they say my dyslexia forever disrupts mind... my...mind... He yells louder, *"Why am I wasting my time with you Brock? You don't want to learn, God ****** Quit staring at the clock! Now go on read the sentence and annunciate on that last word, don't overestimate the time, It is not going to move any faster..."* There I sat boiling, as he wagged his finger in my face as he stood behind, tempting me to call upon my intrepid Power Ranger besieged mind. I would cut his head off with a swoosh of my sword, sparks go flying and down goes Zedd-Lord.   *"God ****** Brock it's Lord-Zedd!"* , I shouted in my own head. So, in my imagination; I still cannot properly read. Where will this get me? No where fast... I work continually, properly, systematically, honestly, legitimately, every way I can to learn every word I want to know. That's where I want to Go. Like I said, I'm a product of the 90's. A whole generation discovered off the product of: I find me. Instead of having the powers given to us, we worked for them. And that is the difference between Jesus and Jordan. And that is the difference between Jesus and Jordan. And that is the difference between Jesus and Jordan. May my knowledge open eyes.
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Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 3:16 PM UTC
A 90's Child Testimony: Jesus .vs. Jordan
Red hair... Like a bright sunny glair... You get drunk when we kiss... I can't get enough of this... I know there are plenty of girls in the world... You must think I am absurd... A relationship based on trust... All I had to go off of was your word... But that don't mean **** Because you legitimately gave up and quit... You couldn't be leaving me for another guy... Girl i'm just too fly... But you don't like PDA... And our so called relationship is TBA... Could have just stayed with me, and i'd be okay... But as fast as you came... I will replace you... You can't break a heard of stone... Been down this road too many times... I always end up alone... But on top is where I remain... I can't say I loved you... But my feelings I cannot hide or contain... You say you're sorry... And we will still be friends... Better a week than a year... But i'll be damed if I agree... Like a magician, I'm about to disappear... Have no fear though... You got your wish... 11:11 is the time... Gold ************* fish...
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Dec 10, 2011
Dec 10, 2011 at 11:48 PM UTC
Red Dead Redemption?
and no I'm really not cold you can have my sweater (I have a higher tolerance and enjoy cooler weather) and yes I am really paying for lunch put your wallet away (I don't pay rent) and yes I legitimately am interested in how your week has been (Mine ****** most likely) and no, I'm not jealous that you think some super famous actor is hot (but **** that guy with a rusty screwdriver) and no, I'm not hooking up with a bunch of random chicks and eyeing everything in a short skirt (I'm not bound to a gender stereotype and have control of my instincts) and yes you do legitimately look good in that dress (I'm not saying it just because) and yes I do enjoy having you around alot more than I let on (I'm not a very expressive person so what) and yes I do like you more than just a friend (In case it wasn't already obvious) and yes maybe I do just want to walk through a park, and hold hands or some ******** and talk about "whatever" (even though i am easily embarrassed) and no I'm not hungry (Those were butterflies) and no we don't have alot of interests in common (except humor, and each other's company- I hope.) I can tell you alot of things for example I know what the fear of long words is I can tell you where the best Belgian place in Manhattan is I can never say where my heart is But don't ask me about myself I can't ever answer that question right I just let my actions speak and hope they don't get lost in translation and-
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Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 11:40 PM UTC
Biography
You’re feeling depressed so you head home early. Your mom asks if you’re okay the moment she sees you walk in the door. “Just tired,” you mutter half-heartedly. Sooner or later, you start to believe it. The “just tired”s build up slowly and quietly until you are legitimately fatigued. You can’t sleep at night but you can’t bring yourself to get out of bed and do something productive in the morning. Your grades drop. A teacher eventually calls home. You start going in again, but you are reluctant enough to leave the sanctity of your bed each morning; school is another obstacle entirely. You scrape by with average grades. Your parents are just happy to see you “functioning” again. You get a job. It ***** but the hours are decent and allow you plenty of time to sit alone at home. Eventually your minimally active drive begins to taper off. You stop trying hard; your manager notices. You eventually get demoted after being late one too many times. You drag through the hours, watching other people move by in a blur, and you come to point where you stop in the middle of the freezer aisle with your shopping cart. (You can only bring yourself to make microwavable food these days.) The children in the seats of the other carts stare like they can tell something is amiss, something is different, perhaps your aura or your face or the way your clothes are hopelessly wrinkled. You can’t bring yourself to finish your shopping after that, so you leave your half-empty cart there in the middle of the aisle and walk back out to your car empty-handed. This is your life, you think. This is your mediocre life. And you are tired of it.
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Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 3:44 AM UTC
mediocre
You’re feeling depressed so you head home early. Your mom asks if you’re okay the moment she sees you walk in the door. “Just tired,” you mutter half-heartedly. Sooner or later, you start to believe it. The “just tired”s build up slowly and quietly until you are legitimately fatigued. You can’t sleep at night but you can’t bring yourself to get out of bed and do something productive in the morning. Your grades drop. A teacher eventually calls home. You start going in again, but you are reluctant enough to leave the sanctity of your bed each morning; school is another obstacle entirely. You scrape by with average grades. Your parents are just happy to see you “functioning” again. You get a job. It ***** but the hours are decent and allow you plenty of time to sit alone at home. Eventually your minimally active drive begins to taper off. You stop trying hard; your manager notices. You eventually get demoted after being late one too many times. You drag through the hours, watching other people move by in a blur, and you come to point where you stop in the middle of the freezer aisle with your shopping cart. (You can only bring yourself to make microwavable food these days.) The children in the seats of the other carts stare like they can tell something is amiss, something is different, perhaps your aura or your face or the way your clothes are hopelessly wrinkled. You can’t bring yourself to finish your shopping after that, so you leave your half-empty cart there in the middle of the aisle and walk back out to your car empty-handed. This is your life, you think. This is your mediocre life. And you are tired of it.
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8
Let your eyes adjust Are you sure, you truly understanding what your seeing I’m a human being captured by the ignorance of darkness before you Has this cave sincerely shackled you to your seat? And only shadows on the wall Is what we only believe exists Is there more to life Question and answer answer and question Life is filled with opposites Take me, as a messenger telling you That the world we live in is a pseudo-reality Tell me do you know what really happened during nine eleven? Do you know that you are able to bend a spoon? Do you truly believe that America is the ambassador for democracy? Or ironically terrorism in itself We believe what we want to believe, that is the human condition Curiosity fueled by suggestion The problem, is understanding that our curiosity can be lead into fallacy Have you seen the light, the light of the red pill? That will no longer make you ill To this ignorance of illusions, that the media has communicably gave to us I stand before you with a light of my own Not completely enlightened but enough to tell you To question your surroundings and not preach But rather hopefully teach you To do just as Socrates did. To keep on questioning Because we don’t have all the answers Hopefully we may one day completely have the courage To leave this Omelas of American thought And find that natural drive within us to seek the truth The world isn’t this tangible sugar coated honest reality Individuals lie, deceive, and make the world what it doesn’t seem to be Please have an open mind For what the world needs is growth in intellect And not in economy for to understand that legitimately We may then begin to solve the problems of humanity
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Feb 21, 2010
Feb 21, 2010 at 7:15 AM UTC
one light
Let your eyes adjust Are you sure, you truly understanding what your seeing I’m a human being captured by the ignorance of darkness before you Has this cave sincerely shackled you to your seat? And only shadows on the wall Is what we only believe exists Is there more to life Question and answer answer and question Life is filled with opposites Take me, as a messenger telling you That the world we live in is a pseudo-reality Tell me do you know what really happened during nine eleven? Do you know that you are able to bend a spoon? Do you truly believe that America is the ambassador for democracy? Or ironically terrorism in itself We believe what we want to believe, that is the human condition Curiosity fueled by suggestion The problem, is understanding that our curiosity can be lead into fallacy Have you seen the light, the light of the red pill? That will no longer make you ill To this ignorance of illusions, that the media has communicably gave to us I stand before you with a light of my own Not completely enlightened but enough to tell you To question your surroundings and not preach But rather hopefully teach you To do just as Socrates did. To keep on questioning Because we don’t have all the answers Hopefully we may one day completely have the courage To leave this Omelas of American thought And find that natural drive within us to seek the truth The world isn’t this tangible sugar coated honest reality Individuals lie, deceive, and make the world what it doesn’t seem to be Please have an open mind For what the world needs is growth in intellect And not in economy for to understand that legitimately We may then begin to solve the problems of humanity
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36
now &days; a big *** is thicker than a head. Thing is; you're all brain dead! Your minds are programmed to hate, date &break;! Break hearts.. Following the next ***** like fly on **** Why can't your mind be legit? Legitimately knowledgeable!! Think for yourself &stimulate; your minds, we are running out of time...
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Aug 23, 2015
Aug 23, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC
new era
I'm sitting here letting my own demons drown me as you freely do as you please. What am I to do? This is my fault, I can almost feel it. The second you turn your back, everything slips and reverses until they're in control. It never used to be this way, you know. You were always there, pulling me up and away from the darkness that lingers in my peripherals. Who's to say that I'm merely crazy and illogical to think that you ever legitimately cared for my well being, and the idea that you might one day prove everyone wrong. Did I drive you away, or did you drive yourself away with your cynical isolation? What this seems to be is your futile attempt to push me over the edge, far past any point of return, for your simple satisfaction and freedom. Am I only dead weight to you, ready to be thrown overboard and long forgotten? Perhaps it's just me and I don't understand a single thing that's been going on, and I would if you would exchange words with me. But alas, I can't. For you keep me in the shadows long enough to question my own sanity, then bait me back into the light you so graciously present to me and me only. I cannot express enough how often my heart throbs of excruciating pain and sorrow every time you retract yourself into your cave of hidden ventures. I will forever be unable to truly describe the intricate cracks and lines you have carved into my being. I can show you, that is, if you're willing to pay enough attention to detail. I wonder if you'll be able to see how and why my scars run deeper than mere cuts and scratches. I wonder if you'll come to terms with what you've done and how much damage you inflicted on my already bruised heart and soul. I pray to whatever unknown existence that lies beyond the barrier of this universe that you will forgive both me and yourself for everything that has happened since our worlds collided. I hope that you soon find the courage and audacity to stay here with me and enjoy all that life has to offer down to our final breaths. I know I'd do it for you.
0
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 12:28 PM UTC
Isolation
I'm sitting here letting my own demons drown me as you freely do as you please. What am I to do? This is my fault, I can almost feel it. The second you turn your back, everything slips and reverses until they're in control. It never used to be this way, you know. You were always there, pulling me up and away from the darkness that lingers in my peripherals. Who's to say that I'm merely crazy and illogical to think that you ever legitimately cared for my well being, and the idea that you might one day prove everyone wrong. Did I drive you away, or did you drive yourself away with your cynical isolation? What this seems to be is your futile attempt to push me over the edge, far past any point of return, for your simple satisfaction and freedom. Am I only dead weight to you, ready to be thrown overboard and long forgotten? Perhaps it's just me and I don't understand a single thing that's been going on, and I would if you would exchange words with me. But alas, I can't. For you keep me in the shadows long enough to question my own sanity, then bait me back into the light you so graciously present to me and me only. I cannot express enough how often my heart throbs of excruciating pain and sorrow every time you retract yourself into your cave of hidden ventures. I will forever be unable to truly describe the intricate cracks and lines you have carved into my being. I can show you, that is, if you're willing to pay enough attention to detail. I wonder if you'll be able to see how and why my scars run deeper than mere cuts and scratches. I wonder if you'll come to terms with what you've done and how much damage you inflicted on my already bruised heart and soul. I pray to whatever unknown existence that lies beyond the barrier of this universe that you will forgive both me and yourself for everything that has happened since our worlds collided. I hope that you soon find the courage and audacity to stay here with me and enjoy all that life has to offer down to our final breaths. I know I'd do it for you.
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1
I think I may have fathered 4 But only one legitimately And it ripped me 2 the core when she took him away from me Yes, I've been a father 'though I've never raised a one So as with each year I'll not receive a card or call, not a single one Sometimes I think, I may have missed out But I would have raised anyone of them with out a dought And so, I've lived my life wondering who & where they are? I wonder if I'll ever meet them? Or will they mearly remain one of my scares? As I ponder this upon this Sunday I sit alone upon my throne Hoping I can make the mortgage so I won't loss my home I know the phone won't ring and no cards will come So I should get off my *** and get something done Instead of writing poetry to escape from other things I should think of today as just a Sunday and not think of Monday and horrors it will bring So 4 those fathers who get the calls & cards from all those sons & daughters even though their lives are hard I hopeU don't find it a bother have a great one, with my regards
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Jun 20, 2010
Jun 20, 2010 at 9:36 AM UTC
4 Some It's Father's Day
SMOKING MY LAST CIGARETTE IN MY POCKET AFTER THIS, I’LL GO HOME WITH NO REGRET DISREGARDED SUCCESS DISHONORED VICTORY NOW TELL ME IS THIS WORTH THE ENERGY? DISGUSTED FACE OF EACH NATION I’LL TRY TO BUY SOME TIME OR MAKE IT IN SLOW MOTION JUST TO SAVE SOME HOURS BEFORE WE GO TO WAR THEIR BATTLE CRY “THIS TERRITORY IS OURS” WE YELL BACK “THIS ONE IS OURS” TICKING OF THE CLOCK TURNED TO MINUTES AND NOW WE ARE SECONDS AWAY THEY CALLED IT “PARADISE” I CALLED IT “THE DEMISE OF A PARADISE” WE ARE ALL SLAVES BY HEART AND IN MIND ENDLESS TUG OF WAR BETWEEN TAN AND JUAN NEVER ENDING CLAIM NEVER ENDING SHAME STOP THIS NON SENSE AND LET’S MAKE EVERYTHING AT EASE LET US TAKE WHAT’S RIGHTFULLY OURS AND TAKE WHAT’S LEGITIMATELY YOURS WE SHARE THE SAME SKIN ALL I PRAY IS TO END THIS FEUD CLEAN
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May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 1:05 PM UTC
Made in The Philippines
everything does come back to you it's funny how i once laughed at love songs how i said it was cheesy and immature those young fellas who seem to enjoy each others' companion oh how i despised them when i was young a philosophy in my mind worked out that whoever comes will soon go away even though you think she's your forever friend or the true love that you've been waiting they might and would always leave you behind that is why you gotta train yourself to be alone to be independent to be strong but, what is this feeling? it's something that i should ignore no, wait, now it hurts this sensation of lonesome gluttons my very soul yes, please, i need a friend someone whom i can love legitimately and knows how to love me back wholesomely save me from this unwanted gloom that kept eating up my pride and my smile my tears, like the last dewdrop in a drought fell into my eyes as i write this poem it is a call for help a lonely blue whale's last song do you think someone would hear me out?
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Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 1:16 AM UTC
everything comes back to you
a lot of my religious friends try to explain to me what god feels like. They often tell me something along the lines of. "It's like the love he offers is just so big that it overwhelms you." or "it's like he is so understanding and comforting that you just feel completely loved." I never really got it before I was broken. I'm still not religious. But when I think about how I feel about woman, it's very similar. It's not that I fall in love with one woman. or that I fall in love with a whole bunch of woman. It's more like there is so much love coming from every single woman as a whole. that it just is an all encompassing cloud of feeling less lonely. so I flirt. I flirt with every single woman. sometimes they flirt back. every healthy word sounding like another warm pair of hands on my shoulders. I legitimately fall in love at first sight with millions of people. I'm lonely. need the touch, company. words. When I say I need you, or I love you, I mean it. When I don't say it I mean it too. just think you'll leave if you find out. But I'd rather be on a porch drinking a beer with friends, then alone in my bed sexting some tinder match from new hampshire. I'm not doing this for the *** don't care at all about the *** I just wanna be next to someone. So when people say they beleive in god, I understand them in my own way. They just don't wanna be lonely. I pray to woman all day long. worship their bodies like alters. Woman are this glowing cloud of comfort. So when one says she wants me to be with me forever. To be my True religion. It sounds like I touched God.
0
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 2:18 PM UTC
I might be a nun
a lot of my religious friends try to explain to me what god feels like. They often tell me something along the lines of. "It's like the love he offers is just so big that it overwhelms you." or "it's like he is so understanding and comforting that you just feel completely loved." I never really got it before I was broken. I'm still not religious. But when I think about how I feel about woman, it's very similar. It's not that I fall in love with one woman. or that I fall in love with a whole bunch of woman. It's more like there is so much love coming from every single woman as a whole. that it just is an all encompassing cloud of feeling less lonely. so I flirt. I flirt with every single woman. sometimes they flirt back. every healthy word sounding like another warm pair of hands on my shoulders. I legitimately fall in love at first sight with millions of people. I'm lonely. need the touch, company. words. When I say I need you, or I love you, I mean it. When I don't say it I mean it too. just think you'll leave if you find out. But I'd rather be on a porch drinking a beer with friends, then alone in my bed sexting some tinder match from new hampshire. I'm not doing this for the *** don't care at all about the *** I just wanna be next to someone. So when people say they beleive in god, I understand them in my own way. They just don't wanna be lonely. I pray to woman all day long. worship their bodies like alters. Woman are this glowing cloud of comfort. So when one says she wants me to be with me forever. To be my True religion. It sounds like I touched God.
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40
You know how-don't ever tell me you don't How I love the sun rays play with the cloud As I curiously look up, I clearly see me falling Through the swaying foliages of a cloud tree Frolicking with the philanderer wind tickling her. Sowing goosebumps you think, as falling raindrops While she wishes she wouldn't respond to such                                            frivolous machinations. Is it love? She gets no answer.The day marches on an illusory ground, not worried about  THE END Falling through the space, I see a sky full of holes. Absence in presence and presence clouding absence This, nobody ever takes notice.                                                     An invisible particle Of matter yet to be discovered, I was stardust for a while, I was falling, Then I was quantas of energy Without a given name, that wanted To be on the move, singing, While there is still  a song within. Yes I was falling. I confess: every night , I was curious about the moon's routine Even on those nights she kept me waiting in the darkness guessing "Woman, by spurning my love , you destroy light legitimately  ours". The love I only kept, for your silver lashes that pleases me! I was falling: On the face Of the moon I saw it's         Reflection. I was falling All alone,from Your memory Like the                 Crinkled                      Petal                           Of a dead                                    Flower.
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Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 3:06 PM UTC
Falling
You know how-don't ever tell me you don't How I love the sun rays play with the cloud As I curiously look up, I clearly see me falling Through the swaying foliages of a cloud tree Frolicking with the philanderer wind tickling her. Sowing goosebumps you think, as falling raindrops While she wishes she wouldn't respond to such                                            frivolous machinations. Is it love? She gets no answer.The day marches on an illusory ground, not worried about  THE END Falling through the space, I see a sky full of holes. Absence in presence and presence clouding absence This, nobody ever takes notice.                                                     An invisible particle Of matter yet to be discovered, I was stardust for a while, I was falling, Then I was quantas of energy Without a given name, that wanted To be on the move, singing, While there is still  a song within. Yes I was falling. I confess: every night , I was curious about the moon's routine Even on those nights she kept me waiting in the darkness guessing "Woman, by spurning my love , you destroy light legitimately  ours". The love I only kept, for your silver lashes that pleases me! I was falling: On the face Of the moon I saw it's         Reflection. I was falling All alone,from Your memory Like the                 Crinkled                      Petal                           Of a dead                                    Flower.
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40
Dread Deep, Deep, Dread Waiting to lift a rock Under which I have left a Viper Venom nonfatal But abscesses and grows Cultivates already infected, decaying tissue Weight my temple Drop from a tower Only the ground below and On all sides Dread, pass me by Deaf, blind viper Is this paranoia No, I tremble legitimately
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Jun 16, 2010
Jun 16, 2010 at 7:52 PM UTC
Stared Down
Excitement is like an obsession! If taken for the abundance type of a seriousness going OVER someone’s own limits, that is… Then you’d have something of a problem to say the least… Problems that govern different types of obsessions from totally overshadowing something that was just supposed to be the time of a GREAT “excitement” to come! But what do we say about something becoming merely “overexcited” …? Easy. But simplified for ALL “hearts content”. Is that you start to lose yourself in whatever event this very excitement is “legitimately” taken from. And just as there’s different types of excitement, there’s also even more different types of obsessions. One I know VERY WELL…. Because I simply have it. It’s what’s known as "obsessive compulsive disorder" (OCD)!
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Jul 13, 2020
Jul 13, 2020 at 4:44 PM UTC
Excitement is like an obsession!
Stacking a thousand ladders over one another and piling dozens of chairs You still cant touch the moon You can only dream under it But the view from up here is closer than before and farther from the ground The air is colder up here And you feel more free And you are legitimately over those who walk And you realize that the only reason you feel free is because you feel you have the choice. The choice To let go of these railings And the realization that you are in control of your life That nothing's holding you down there That nothing's holding you up here But the will to hold on to life Or to let Go
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Nov 14, 2016
Nov 14, 2016 at 8:13 PM UTC
Suicide moon