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"lessen" poems
* *To lessen liabilities, to lower costs and make the world more, more productive; exacting...* *To make everything easier, a life more fulfilling... ...more predictable, perhaps, more equal than now.* *To eliminate sadness, anger, depression, anxiety. To work less at everything, they will do it all for me.* The planet will be saved by the extirpation of human activity... ...for who needs humans to trade stock? ...who needs humans to make widgets? ...who needs humans to clean things? Who needs humans at all?
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Sep 4, 2017
Sep 4, 2017 at 11:05 AM UTC
AUTOMATA
What they don’t tell you in school, while you’re trying to remember the difference between prophase and metaphase chromosomes and chromatin is that really biology isn’t science biology is life See, divorce divorce is like mitosis slow to start, but quick to finish Begins at prophase when conflicts arise as your family’s nucleolus, your family’s unity disappears Your carefree life, your chromatin, coil and change become tight, tense chromosomes Outside forces, mitotic spindles, residing in the cytoplasm start creeping towards your parents to separate their souls Metaphase: you’re all lined up single file ready for battle Centrosomes, middles of each new life, poised opposing each other with their spindles latched onto you kinetochore, your middle, like a dog with it’s leash Anaphase: everything separates, your world’s torn apart and you’re left silently watching alone as your sister is torn from your life Telophase: the pain starts to lessen as you uncoil and your broken family’s nuclear membrane begins to reform Once the paper’s are signed once the cell’s wall’s rebuilt your old life is over and the process it’s finished See, they don’t tell you don’t think you need to know that divorce is simply biology and mitosis well, it’s life
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Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 12:21 AM UTC
Biology: Mitosis
He loves me, he loves me not We're meant to be, or so I thought My heart is broken, the pain is real I long for peace, from all I feel I fake a smile, so no one knows I mimic strength, lest weakness shows I refuse surrender, I stand and fight I must succeed, and so I write The ink it flows, pours from my pen It heals my heart, and I can breathe again Minutes into hours, hours into days The love I held so tightly, starts to fade away The pain begins to lessen, the tears no longer fall Seemed misery was forever but it's not that way at all Those nights you haunt my dreams Are now few and far between When memories overtake me, I know I'll be alright I know now what to do....and so I write The ink it flows, pours from my pen It heals my heart and I can breathe again Yes, I can breathe again.
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Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 11:00 PM UTC
And So I Write
Doom train hurtling along Through the fog in my mind Towing freight, rectangular and oblong Dim headlights, you're travelling blind Five carriages long, excluding engine and caboose Metal against metal, spitting sparks on steel Undetermined path, rails will choose Chugging along on dirt covered wheels In the cabin, I see the light Emanating from your furnace Swallowing up coals in your gaping bite Tongues of flames licking the surface Fire breathing, spewing thick black smoke Almost unseen, against the dark of night A long plumy arm as if extending to choke And plug the remaining sources of light Meandering precariously on tracks that weave Over uncharted, unfathomable terrain Your store, so reliably you heave Worming your way through my brain What's in that cargo of yours? What lies within those boxcars? What drives you to diligently run your course? What fuels you to travel near and far? Loads of self pity, self loathing and self reproach Snaking your way to an unknown destination Screeching brakes as if a stop you approach Herald the train of dubious intentions Light is upon you, dark will dissipate Your plumes starting to lessen from your stack The dawn breaking horizon you didn't anticipate To see another charging towards you on this very same track...
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Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 4:16 AM UTC
Doom Train (I)
Many have come to pry me open. Many have come asking for the key. Offering promises that the doubt would lessen, flaunting their oaths as currency. Plenty have assured that they're not like the others. They promised that their words were forged in steel. They had come with nothing else except to offer, their ears and support just so to seal the deal. "Forgive me", I'd say... I am still a tad apprehensive. But I do feel the need to speak... I do long for ears attentive, Not the ones which are attached to mouths that easily leak. I know that there are such ears... Hard to find but they're definitely there. They'd be ready to catch my tears, more than willing to show concern and care... Yours seem rather reliable... That much I see. They've come with intentions seemingly untainted and kind. Don't suppose they'd take my words ever so lightly. They won't lap up my secrets with treachery in mind. Again I find myself here at the same spot. About to hand over the duplicate key. This familiar leap I hope you'd have me caught. Please don't give away my secrets for free...
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Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 4:38 PM UTC
Leap of Faith
So ….. Who Are The ... ... " Good Guys " ... ? In These Modern Times ... ? Osama … Obama ... ? ? Or Those … Civil Type Guardia ... ? What ... Makes Them Good ... ? The Guns They Use ... As If They ... Should …. To RESTRAIN and ... Defuse ... VIOLENT … Neighbourhoods … !?! But REALLY … Is This ... What They Do … ?!? I've Heard Stories ... That … Relay TRUTH ... About The ABUSE ... Some Guardia … Choose … !!! Like … STRIPPING Men … In … Spanish Streets ... To ... Prove To Them …. The ... Kinda PROBLEMS ... They're ... BOUND To See ... If They ... DON'T Respect ... The ... " Gendarmerie " … !!!!! Good Guys ….. !!!?!!! REALLY … ?!? Or Employed … BULLIES ... !?! The Type Who ... FEED ... of … "ABUSE FILLED Deeds" … !!! The Type That Make ... Young People … BLEED … !!! When ... Guns They … PARADE … Aren't Used … " Properly " … Kind of Like …. " NEWTOWN " …. Where It's CLEAR … Gun Sounds ... Will Now … RESOUND ... In The ... Hearts and Mouths ... of ... Parents Now … Resound With … " LOSS " … !!!!! Cos' A ... LOVED One's Gone … !!!!! WITHOUT A …. Song …. Or Farewell ... "Prolonged" ... So …. ??? What Was The Mantra ... ? of … Adam Lanza ... ? To Shoot REPEATEDLY ... In A ... KILLING SPREE … That Took … SO MANY … !!!!! Was His Mind So HEAVY ... ?!? That His Thoughts … CLEARLY … Had Become … "UNstEAdy" … !!! So … Where Were Connecticut's ... GOOD GUYS … Then … ? With The ... " NRA " ... !?! At A ... Shooting Range … ??? Shooting Guns For … "FUN" … !!! While The Blood of A MUM ... And Youngsters ..... RUN ..................................... Down SCHOOL Hallways ... In The … Middle of The Day ... !?! Now The NRA Says … "Bad Guys with guns, need to face, good ones !" Okay Okay ... But Let's ... Get This Straight … !!! It's ... OKAY For A Man ... Whose Been Paid and Trained ... To ... SHOOT TO **** ... Pretty Much AT WILL ... Cos' It's Been … " Okayed " … By The …. " NRA " …. !?! Who Said ... They Were Good … !!!???!!! I Learnt My Lesson ... Watching … Charlton Heston ... !!! It Would ... Seem To Me ... That ... NRA Peeps … Care ... MORE For ... MONEY ... Than When … Children BLEED … !!?!! It's ... ALL About GREED … !!! Cos' ... Good GUYS ... DON'T NEED ... To Have … " ARMOURIES " ... !!! To ENSURE The Streets ... Are Filled With … "PEACE" ... and I … For One ... DON'T Believe That Guns ... Have … ANY Function … In …. Education …. !!!!!! Educate Our Youth ….. !!! About The ... HARM They Cause ... !!!!!!! They NEED To Be Schooled ... In ….... AVOIDING Wars ............ !!!!!! And In ... Avoiding Depression … That Leads To HARSH Lessons ... !!!!! It Time To STRENGTHEN ... !!! Our Fight Against ... Guns ... And Time To … " LESSEN " … !!! " NRA " ... Type Funds ... !!!!! That SUPPORT … " The Lie " of ….. " Preservation of life " … Through The Use of … ………. GUNS ………… Seeing Blood ... Run … DOESN'T ... Signify FUN … !!!!! NEITHER Does ... ... The Sight ... of Police In Schools ... With A Gun By Their Side … !!! They Weren't In View … When I Was ... Being Schooled … !!! So FOLKS … DON'T BE ... Fooled ... !!! By ... Lobbyist Groups … !!!!! When It Comes To ... ... "Who is Who" … Who Are THEY To Decide … !???! When It Comes To ... Peoples' Lives ... Who The People Should Believe ..... To Be ………………………… ... "The Good Guys !!!" ...
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Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 5:03 PM UTC
"The Good Guys" ... A Poem written by Big Virge 22/12/2012
So ….. Who Are The ... ... " Good Guys " ... ? In These Modern Times ... ? Osama … Obama ... ? ? Or Those … Civil Type Guardia ... ? What ... Makes Them Good ... ? The Guns They Use ... As If They ... Should …. To RESTRAIN and ... Defuse ... VIOLENT … Neighbourhoods … !?! But REALLY … Is This ... What They Do … ?!? I've Heard Stories ... That … Relay TRUTH ... About The ABUSE ... Some Guardia … Choose … !!! Like … STRIPPING Men … In … Spanish Streets ... To ... Prove To Them …. The ... Kinda PROBLEMS ... They're ... BOUND To See ... If They ... DON'T Respect ... The ... " Gendarmerie " … !!!!! Good Guys ….. !!!?!!! REALLY … ?!? Or Employed … BULLIES ... !?! The Type Who ... FEED ... of … "ABUSE FILLED Deeds" … !!! The Type That Make ... Young People … BLEED … !!! When ... Guns They … PARADE … Aren't Used … " Properly " … Kind of Like …. " NEWTOWN " …. Where It's CLEAR … Gun Sounds ... Will Now … RESOUND ... In The ... Hearts and Mouths ... of ... Parents Now … Resound With … " LOSS " … !!!!! Cos' A ... LOVED One's Gone … !!!!! WITHOUT A …. Song …. Or Farewell ... "Prolonged" ... So …. ??? What Was The Mantra ... ? of … Adam Lanza ... ? To Shoot REPEATEDLY ... In A ... KILLING SPREE … That Took … SO MANY … !!!!! Was His Mind So HEAVY ... ?!? That His Thoughts … CLEARLY … Had Become … "UNstEAdy" … !!! So … Where Were Connecticut's ... GOOD GUYS … Then … ? With The ... " NRA " ... !?! At A ... Shooting Range … ??? Shooting Guns For … "FUN" … !!! While The Blood of A MUM ... And Youngsters ..... RUN ..................................... Down SCHOOL Hallways ... In The … Middle of The Day ... !?! Now The NRA Says … "Bad Guys with guns, need to face, good ones !" Okay Okay ... But Let's ... Get This Straight … !!! It's ... OKAY For A Man ... Whose Been Paid and Trained ... To ... SHOOT TO **** ... Pretty Much AT WILL ... Cos' It's Been … " Okayed " … By The …. " NRA " …. !?! Who Said ... They Were Good … !!!???!!! I Learnt My Lesson ... Watching … Charlton Heston ... !!! It Would ... Seem To Me ... That ... NRA Peeps … Care ... MORE For ... MONEY ... Than When … Children BLEED … !!?!! It's ... ALL About GREED … !!! Cos' ... Good GUYS ... DON'T NEED ... To Have … " ARMOURIES " ... !!! To ENSURE The Streets ... Are Filled With … "PEACE" ... and I … For One ... DON'T Believe That Guns ... Have … ANY Function … In …. Education …. !!!!!! Educate Our Youth ….. !!! About The ... HARM They Cause ... !!!!!!! They NEED To Be Schooled ... In ….... AVOIDING Wars ............ !!!!!! And In ... Avoiding Depression … That Leads To HARSH Lessons ... !!!!! It Time To STRENGTHEN ... !!! Our Fight Against ... Guns ... And Time To … " LESSEN " … !!! " NRA " ... Type Funds ... !!!!! That SUPPORT … " The Lie " of ….. " Preservation of life " … Through The Use of … ………. GUNS ………… Seeing Blood ... Run … DOESN'T ... Signify FUN … !!!!! NEITHER Does ... ... The Sight ... of Police In Schools ... With A Gun By Their Side … !!! They Weren't In View … When I Was ... Being Schooled … !!! So FOLKS … DON'T BE ... Fooled ... !!! By ... Lobbyist Groups … !!!!! When It Comes To ... ... "Who is Who" … Who Are THEY To Decide … !???! When It Comes To ... Peoples' Lives ... Who The People Should Believe ..... To Be ………………………… ... "The Good Guys !!!" ...
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White paint peels off to leave the walls bare, naked and exposed to elements. Much like her soul. Starved of love and affection, accepted but not wanted. Tolerated. The sun casts her shadows on those she frowns upon, leaving winding roads to spiral out of control. Time shifts her world from it's axis as it progresses, it doesn't heal, it doesn't lessen, It just is. Echoes of your voice ricochets to find her heart, carrying the exact weight they did the second they fled your tongue, never shedding an ounce of momentum "The waves of pain that had only lapped at her before now reared up high and pulled her under .."
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Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 9:01 PM UTC
Indifference
As they walked along after the matinee, the older brother teased his sister, “Hey, guess what, Frankenstein lives in the attic and he’s goin’ get you.”  With a flushed face the little sister responded, "Nah-ah, besides the attic door is locked."  And her brother smirked, “Think Frankenstein cares about locked doors?" Throughout their childhood, the brother jumped out behind closed doors, terrifying his little sister, and with each fright he gave his own fear seemed to lessen.  After a startle the sister thought, ‘Does my brother love me, like I love him?’, and she concluded, “He must, why else would he try to scare me to death?’ Within the decade, a sudden brain hemorrhage took their dearly loved mother.  Now, untethered in their mother’s love, the siblings changed, tightened, within,  While their father, a traumatized, war veteran, swiftly fell off the wagon, and the brother and sister cast off, rudderless, uprooted into troubled waters. And with their hearts snapped shut, immersed in relentless grief, they parted ways.  Some years later, their father died, bequeathed them both his unhealed pain. The brother, the sister, slid secretively into alcoholism, conceded the family custom, invested deeply in their despair, the two went on, married, raised families, conformed. And time went by, as alcohol soothed the pain until the brother breathed his last, his belly taut with fluid, his liver destroyed, a life sentence ended.  While she, the lone survivor, mysteriously yielded unto Grace and was pardoned, recovered, she finally understood, she knew deep inside; everyone did the best they could, even her. …and within a circle of one; I loved them all forever and ever.
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Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 11:53 AM UTC
The Curse of Frankenstein, 1957
As they walked along after the matinee, the older brother teased his sister, “Hey, guess what, Frankenstein lives in the attic and he’s goin’ get you.”  With a flushed face the little sister responded, "Nah-ah, besides the attic door is locked."  And her brother smirked, “Think Frankenstein cares about locked doors?" Throughout their childhood, the brother jumped out behind closed doors, terrifying his little sister, and with each fright he gave his own fear seemed to lessen.  After a startle the sister thought, ‘Does my brother love me, like I love him?’, and she concluded, “He must, why else would he try to scare me to death?’ Within the decade, a sudden brain hemorrhage took their dearly loved mother.  Now, untethered in their mother’s love, the siblings changed, tightened, within,  While their father, a traumatized, war veteran, swiftly fell off the wagon, and the brother and sister cast off, rudderless, uprooted into troubled waters. And with their hearts snapped shut, immersed in relentless grief, they parted ways.  Some years later, their father died, bequeathed them both his unhealed pain. The brother, the sister, slid secretively into alcoholism, conceded the family custom, invested deeply in their despair, the two went on, married, raised families, conformed. And time went by, as alcohol soothed the pain until the brother breathed his last, his belly taut with fluid, his liver destroyed, a life sentence ended.  While she, the lone survivor, mysteriously yielded unto Grace and was pardoned, recovered, she finally understood, she knew deep inside; everyone did the best they could, even her. …and within a circle of one; I loved them all forever and ever.
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May good St. Nick, like as a bird of night, Bring thee rich blessings in his annual flight; Long by thy chimney rest his pond'rous pack, And leave with lessen'd weight upon his back!
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6.4k
Good Saint Nick
I was there in the corner, All alone, No voice, Only fear was my company, It was that time, I went to a place Where the pain disappeared, Even only for the first few blows, The pillow so soft on my face, It soaked up my tears, It soaked up my fear, With each blow, white never hurt so much I didn't have a happy place, Just pain, the look of hate upon the face, The pillow talk, was hash, It was to lessen the marks, Hidden from the outside world, These feathers hit like a fist, Shaded in white, Shaded in hate, A voice was needed, to be released, Made to think the voice would never be heard, Pillow talk carried on, Till the pain screamed out behind the white And the pillow talk did stop. Life went on, years did pass, The anger of a damaged childhood Simmers, Boils, Rages, All beneath the surface, Never to be released, The time has past, bruises gone, But though it was a limited time The pain of the past Its a burden on my heart, that'll carry on.
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Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 6:35 AM UTC
Pillow Talk
TRIGGER WARNING They met at a dance recital. His eerie blue eyes watched her, stalked her, riveted by sinewy skin and the way her legs stretched and parted skillfully, seductively: she knew how to captivate her audience. They had mutual friends. Her curiosity thirsted for more, for she had been taken over by an empty lust, broken by another, but the way he spoke: she felt as pretty as his charms sounded. They went on a date. He kissed her, pinched her, and spread those legs that comprised his fantasies, not caring about the bruises he left when he took off her lacey coverings, pinning her to the floor. They learned more about each other. She saw the empty, carnal look in his eyes, but her pleas and shoves were not enough to lessen the weight of him, to push his hands or his hips away, as he broke her over and over again. They ended the night with a kiss. He grabbed her face like a starving man grabs his first meal, forcing an intimacy she could never get back, but he said, “You liked it, didn’t you.” They kept in touch. She tried blocking his calls, his messages, asking her if she’d come over to his place. Like the continuous force he prodded her with, the pounding in her head beat out a thumping heart-line of no’s.
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Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 12:21 PM UTC
Acquaintance ****
My understanding of today Is as limited as my life Live today As it comes We have been told and practiced With devotion We do prepare for the mundane But what’s one to do about the unknown What does it take to be future ready? Is it the happenings of today Is it the mistakes of today That will lessen the burden of tomorrow As today the lesson was learned Yet how to prepare for the unknown Remains a question for tomorrow
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Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 2:05 PM UTC
Definite Integration
It's been almost a year Since we parted ways. You came to see me in the rain I threw your flowers in your face And pushed you away. You stood there drenched And watched the light on in my room. And then turned and walked away. It's been almost a year And yet I still love you. You who made me smile the boy that drove me nuts. I miss talking to you, telling you I want to be with you. I miss your laugh when I tell you I need you. I miss you. A year and some days Couldn't lessen the pain. Of you telling me you loved me no more but wanted one last night. I can still feel the sting of my palm From kissing your cheek with brute strength. I can feel the rage that fueled selfworth. I turned and walked away. I hope you got a good look Of the last time you will watch me Walking away with ruthless intent. When you are alone a year from now Remember you lost a good thing and how I loved you. It's been almost a year I thought I was done. But if you rang the doorbell I would fly into your arms And forget the past. Not the love we shared ; Just the pain. I still dream about you.
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Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 3:04 PM UTC
I could almost forget
We just drove through a small town It was fascinating Fascinatingly morbid Morbidly surreal There were probably 10+ plots that were haphazardly converted into graveyards 'Ratchet' as my generation would think but not say because that would be 'disrespectful to the dead' In each of the graveyard were hundreds of graves And it was strange Strange how such 'ratchet, disrespected and haphazard' graveYARDS Contained such Beautiful and ornate gravestones As if to say that nothing could lessen the glory of their death They would leave behind an impression of beauty Even in death (Even though they never chose their gravestones. But don't say that because it would be 'disrespectful to the dead' in their blissful abyss) It makes one think That in a town of less than 1000 There was easily more than 2000 gravestones It shows how life goes on How, even in a small town, we are insignificant
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Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 12:45 AM UTC
small town
What is this wall That keeps us in Over each other, we trip; we fall We are like fish with no fins Head on we crash With fists we beat We hack and we slash Screaming, kicking with invisible feet Blocked we remain Let us flow Us you can't contain Let us go Strengthened with aggregate But held back by concrete Cerebral wall with no gate We're packed with angry grit You know we're here You feel us roiling You hear us clear Boiling and brewing We understand the reason You deem it necessary Thinking it would lessen Subdue the rage and fury Your illusion of control Of us, you'd pick the best Surely you're taking the toll Of being nothing but suppressed All of us, we are you We make you what you are From the subtlest cue To the high achieving star We are many but we are one Your thoughts and emotions We are your loaded gun We're the answer to false pretensions You can't have us dammed We've initiated a coup No...we'll not be ****** Too late...we've broken through
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Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 11:29 PM UTC
Dammed
Recently, in the "New York Times," An op-ed essay has hit the press, Thus causing the president To send out vicious tweets in distress. Claiming to be a senior White House Official, the writer wants to let The people know that even though Trump is unhinged, not to fret. Because Trump is ill-informed, Impulsive, and given to constant lying, He can't be trusted to handle the job, Which to many is terrifying. He's impetuous, adversarial, Reckless, petty, and quick to revile. Any good has happened DESPITE And not BECAUSE of his leadership style. The writer insists that our knowing One special thing will lessen the gloom: Even though Trump is a mess, Luckily, there are "adults in the room." Thwarting the president's misguided Impulses is the task Of these "adults," each of whom Has to hide behind a mask. To publish the piece anonymously Some people feel is wrong. But, hey, it only confirms something That we have known all along. -by Bob B (9-6-18)
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Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 1:26 PM UTC
Confirming the Obvious
Just as we become so strong, I feel it fading away, I feel the laughter fading, The jokes and smiles lessen each day, I feel the hug fading, They've become so emotionless compared to before, I feel our kisses fading, The passion has it all faded too? I feel your love for me dying, But is my love fading as well? I can't seem to understand, This feeling is so strong, Every time we are "we" The love fades away, But every time it's just you and I, The love is so strong, How could our love be fading? Will it return from the darkness? I need this love, I need you, Please stop the fading If there is anything you can do...
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Aug 26, 2011
Aug 26, 2011 at 6:22 PM UTC
Fading
Take heed of loving me; At least remember I forbade it thee; Not that I shall repair my unthrifty waste Of breath and blood, upon thy sighs and tears, By being to thee then what to me thou wast; But so great joy our life at once outwears; Then, lest thy love by my death frustrate be, If thou love me, take heed of loving me. Take heed of hating me, Or too much triumph in the victory; Not that I shall be mine own officer, And hate with hate again retaliate; But thou wilt lose the style of conqueror If I, thy conquest, perish by thy hate; Then, lest my being nothing lessen thee, If thou hate me, take heed of hating me. Yet, love and hate me too; So, these extremes shall neither’s office do; Love me, that I may die the gentler way; Hate me, because thy love is too great for me; Or let these two themselves, not me, decay; So shall I live thy stage, not triumph be; Lest thou thy love and hate and me undo, To let me live, O love and hate me too.
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3.7k
The Prohibition
Oxygen is precious and I continue to waste it contemplating life and the decisions I make in it but I can't decide if it's sadness or anger I'm filled with I clench my jaw constantly and I cry in my sleep don't know what I'm worth every day I'm reminded I'm weak decisions decisions, a lack of ambition or rather the strength to acquire what I desire and I know life is truly a lustrous haze My soul wants to dance whilst my heart wants to fight inflicting pain on others only to lessen my strife my mind is a complex maze of thought thinking we were gifted with intelligence but now I get it, it's a curse to see understand, realise and go on knowingly that life is hard and the world is not fair well I realised it young so I can admit that I'm scared the people that comforted me, stood by my side, seem unaware I hope people see something in me because I don't I see pain filled eyes when I wash my face I connect with a reflection that has felt my pain I doubt everyone else is different we're all ashamed the circumstances differ but the pain is the same
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Oct 6, 2016
Oct 6, 2016 at 1:12 PM UTC
The Same Pain
You took my hand and asked me to dance, But I was far too tired to do so, The simple act of walking being far beyond My limited capabilities at that point. I had been reduced to hugs and kisses, And tales of how glorious my past lives had been, And holding hands. I wondered if I should let go- it seemed so different, From any I'd ever held before, that hand. For years I'd held others with the sole Intention of drawing pain away- I am not capable of creating happiness, And I've never claimed otherwise. Your hand had no pain to draw away though, Or at least none that I could find, Which startled me (All the others held so much!) I had thought I knew all there was to know about hands- Their needs, and all the varieties they come in. How they all needed comforting in different ways For similar ailments- grief, loneliness, Heartbreak, being among the most common. I'd even learnt to hold phantoms limbs for a few. I'd move the pain aside, lessen it, or sometimes Even take it as my own, releasing it when no-one else was looking, Into a stone, or an abandoned old house. But your hand simply said "I am here to be held." It shocked me so much I didn't realise I was Walking again. You glided gracefully ahead As I clunked behind, unsure of myself, Holding on to you, trying to figure you out In the short window of opportunity I had left. I saw it as our interlocked fingers departed. Somewhere in the webbing between your ring And index fingers on your left hand Was what I had been searching for all along. I won't go into detail about what I saw (Our pain is no-one's business but our own), But I saw it though, far more beautifully arranged Than I thought was ever possible, Noticing you had stolen some of mine When I wasn't looking, and wondering How much damage I had done. I don't know whether I danced with you or not, The release answered so much while Explaining not quite enough. I watched you, enraptured by the way The pain never once showed Through those beautiful, happy eyes, Which never seemed to break. Now I wonder if I had held your palm Not too little, but far too much. The pain I saw was labelled thus- "Life experiences- Please don't touch All is well. Please remain calm."
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Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 1:11 PM UTC
Palm Reading
You took my hand and asked me to dance, But I was far too tired to do so, The simple act of walking being far beyond My limited capabilities at that point. I had been reduced to hugs and kisses, And tales of how glorious my past lives had been, And holding hands. I wondered if I should let go- it seemed so different, From any I'd ever held before, that hand. For years I'd held others with the sole Intention of drawing pain away- I am not capable of creating happiness, And I've never claimed otherwise. Your hand had no pain to draw away though, Or at least none that I could find, Which startled me (All the others held so much!) I had thought I knew all there was to know about hands- Their needs, and all the varieties they come in. How they all needed comforting in different ways For similar ailments- grief, loneliness, Heartbreak, being among the most common. I'd even learnt to hold phantoms limbs for a few. I'd move the pain aside, lessen it, or sometimes Even take it as my own, releasing it when no-one else was looking, Into a stone, or an abandoned old house. But your hand simply said "I am here to be held." It shocked me so much I didn't realise I was Walking again. You glided gracefully ahead As I clunked behind, unsure of myself, Holding on to you, trying to figure you out In the short window of opportunity I had left. I saw it as our interlocked fingers departed. Somewhere in the webbing between your ring And index fingers on your left hand Was what I had been searching for all along. I won't go into detail about what I saw (Our pain is no-one's business but our own), But I saw it though, far more beautifully arranged Than I thought was ever possible, Noticing you had stolen some of mine When I wasn't looking, and wondering How much damage I had done. I don't know whether I danced with you or not, The release answered so much while Explaining not quite enough. I watched you, enraptured by the way The pain never once showed Through those beautiful, happy eyes, Which never seemed to break. Now I wonder if I had held your palm Not too little, but far too much. The pain I saw was labelled thus- "Life experiences- Please don't touch All is well. Please remain calm."
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54
Love bug, lady crush, peeking through a midnight sky, Deep Purple, Smoke on the Water, before a glimmer in her eye, 90's girl, child stars of, The Disney Club, Timberlake, Spears, Aguilera, Backstreet Boys, Spice Girls dominating, every air wave, Victoria Beckham, her Parsons inspiration fashion designer she'll fight her way, to the top, so much power in her name, yet even stripped bare, she'd be a star, her talent to sketch, draw and drape, falls on knees bent, if only we pray, to even have an ounce from her display, I know few like her, love unconditional, we're the writers seeking solace, an unforgiving pain, life taking so much drain, in the light of day this pain brings forth, an edge to your art, a masochistic feel, creating itself a soul untamed. You write to remember, you sketch your dreams hopelessness turns to desire, the dark cloud of youth, dissipates in the air, knowing there is a way through, treachery and despair. My dear, you may some days, feel in that gutter trying to, catch a star, but today you shine, as bright as a diamond in this very same sky, we see across continents, each night that we pray. Release the grip, lessen the pull, fly and fly, sore heights so high, you ain't ever coming down. © Sia Jane
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Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 10:18 AM UTC
She x Love Bug
The past has past, and from it I have decided to flee. I no longer care about what happened then. So, don't wave your history at me. Technology is supposed to lessen the load, and somehow make us feel free, But all I see are chains and rooks. So, don't wave your gadgets at me. In the educational system I trusted, through it the world I could see, But now I know it's all a show. So, don't wave your grades at me. Poetry is an acquired taste; As dead as it can be, But write we still, As words can **** So, don't wave your lines at me. In love I used to trust; the one and only key. But then I learnt, and caring was burnt. So, don't wave your happiness at me. You came unexpected and briefly; Like the sun on a cold winter's day. You dived and soaked in the waters, and caused ripples through and through. Changing the surface for a brief moment of eternity. Now you've bathed and done; had your fun. For this I decree: I am the errors you left me So please do not wave at me.
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Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 8:12 PM UTC
Don't Wave
good intentions never guarenteed good results. good intentions never guarenteed good good intentions never guarunteed **** it's what you say during an apology. it's what you tell yourself so you can lessen guilt. I singled you out under the guise of a friend. I let you trust me because we all want to believe. I let you love me because I needed the raise in self esteem. I stayed at your house cause I hate sleeping alone. I went to dinner because I couldn't afford food. You started to trust me and I felt ashamed You said I was beautiful I felt ugly You said you knew me and I felt like a liar. You said I was acting strange and I called you crazy You said I was pushing away I told you "so what?" You wondered what happened... I felt disgust. In a moment of guilt I told you it was me, I told you I was crazy. I admited I was playing head games with the weak minded and like a fool you accepted my apologies.
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Jun 23, 2010
Jun 23, 2010 at 9:46 PM UTC
never let a man cuddle with you after ***
is it love or the parasite ? my pilot bulk                       aims for relief        it pursues this via                             your romantic correction in public arena                   a library stair                     (i never prior encountered you) one step as foreigner         the approach and upon a swift internal pendulum i make witless incisions hurried mended sentences directed stuns invasive i demand the compromise                   of your company hastily push at boundaries and you're not so accommodating                                                  but on a further occasion same building we exchange a battering of conversation that    then        matures            into barter-like use of language despite my harassments   a civil cultivation is unearthed tongue within this intelligence effort i lessen loosen my demanding appearance disregard my dignity      a skin suit about the ankles you're open in a vein of similarity    you flesh out your own controls we've progressed quickly there's an aped conduct                  and flashing attitudes this time we share table space a nearby café we have become quite unmanned     repeated meet ups upon humours we adjust small habits     and shake on perceptions where we overlap it becomes    more an overlay of rationalities         than resented promises fast time passes and i move into your living space                                   i pick a wildflower                                                                    and put it in the tiny vase on your dining table we agree on its colour                                               we agree on a book to make our bible material we agree on the pitch of the tinnitus we share the clothes i am to wear i switch to your diet and you cease taking medications we sleep on your lawn like children and bring down the night sky for comfort during the day we wear our sleep               like a lubrication for our chores and go about our productivity               in genuine partnership yet i feel we're just out of reach             of some dark harm we are an excellent sample pair it is all vital we grow stronger the more we quiz it recycling our ********** refine our agreements await further impulses and come closer to plug so.. do we please love       or simply indulge a parasite ?
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Nov 23, 2021
Nov 23, 2021 at 10:28 PM UTC
a cultivation
is it love or the parasite ? my pilot bulk                       aims for relief        it pursues this via                             your romantic correction in public arena                   a library stair                     (i never prior encountered you) one step as foreigner         the approach and upon a swift internal pendulum i make witless incisions hurried mended sentences directed stuns invasive i demand the compromise                   of your company hastily push at boundaries and you're not so accommodating                                                  but on a further occasion same building we exchange a battering of conversation that    then        matures            into barter-like use of language despite my harassments   a civil cultivation is unearthed tongue within this intelligence effort i lessen loosen my demanding appearance disregard my dignity      a skin suit about the ankles you're open in a vein of similarity    you flesh out your own controls we've progressed quickly there's an aped conduct                  and flashing attitudes this time we share table space a nearby café we have become quite unmanned     repeated meet ups upon humours we adjust small habits     and shake on perceptions where we overlap it becomes    more an overlay of rationalities         than resented promises fast time passes and i move into your living space                                   i pick a wildflower                                                                    and put it in the tiny vase on your dining table we agree on its colour                                               we agree on a book to make our bible material we agree on the pitch of the tinnitus we share the clothes i am to wear i switch to your diet and you cease taking medications we sleep on your lawn like children and bring down the night sky for comfort during the day we wear our sleep               like a lubrication for our chores and go about our productivity               in genuine partnership yet i feel we're just out of reach             of some dark harm we are an excellent sample pair it is all vital we grow stronger the more we quiz it recycling our ********** refine our agreements await further impulses and come closer to plug so.. do we please love       or simply indulge a parasite ?
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77
Ya wonda why I'm filled with so much passion and rage/ But that's what happ'n when ya lessen a man to a cage/ I haven't even unleashed the darkness/ Imagine a soul that's heartless/ Crowley is weak compared to the I beast/ Within me, 'n He I now release/ It in I and we have begun to feast/ Spit it out Shut ya impudent mouth n listen/ Time ta quit ya fuckin' insolent dissin'/ Check me out I'm hookless/ Reckless/ You follow the text n I'm bookless/ Check this/ Determination look me in my Eyes/ Ya gunna stay in tha gutta, ***** ***** just to watch me rise/ RA!/ I am incomparable/ Can't match  me, I'm too lyrical/ I am an assassin/ Breath deep, I am the heir, with anthrax-in/ How I see it, You nuttin' but fails/ You in a row boat ***** n my ***** got sails/ Ya call me crazy/ Ya vision is hazy/ And ya thinkin is lazy/ What I know would make ya a sage see/ I'm filled with these higher optics/ Shouldn't need a telescope ta spot this/ but you do What/ Hoss is Down, Livin life like  love/ 'N neva givin' a **** I Come here to shut ya ta Hell up/ ------------Chorus----------- Duranged/ It's Dark n Strange/ You askin', "What am I"/ Darkness Fire burnin' opaque, I neva Die/ Strange Set by Ra, Look to tha Sky/ Nothin' weirder than I/ So Dark N Strange I Am, Cryptic Poetic Hark outta Range/ Who is, Dark n Strange/ Ya frightened of tha commin' age/ Ya too tormented by change/ IT'S NOW Needa label me "I Am" - The Omnipotent is Dark n Strange!
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Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 8:42 PM UTC
"Dark 'N Strange"- (Lyrical) Verse 1 & Chorus