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"lessens" poems
Your face is always into sunshine; It gives hope and clear aura to everyone. The way your eyes say Hi whenever you smile; It lessens up a bad vibe not just for awhile. You are clothed with strength and dignity. And you laugh without fearing the future and reality. In the darkest days of your life; I know you’ll stand tall to find the sunlight. You won’t bloom to where you’ve planted. I know you’ll explore more to get started. It’s your goal for a better life to get; Pursuing to reach your dreams and to be contented. You are a flower that will not wither. It’s because you know how to get yourself watered. Even in cloudy days turned rainy. You still know how to make yourself shiny. Your influence is like spreading seeds; Planting good vibes to the ones who are in need. You are a sunshine that lightens up a day. A sunflower that smiles, feeling like summer. © Quenniebells, 2015
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Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 12:54 PM UTC
My Own Kind Of Sunflower
A warm wind touched my face. I walked out into the open space, I saw a blurry, fading horizon. Somewhere, you are, I am here, after a sleepless night, Writing another reflection, Tired like an empty battery. I do not like the masks that shout. The fight over who is right. I do not want an analysis. I touch the bark of the tree, I hug the birch with my arms. I see its white pages, Written with irregular lines, Torn, fluttering in the wind, Which I cannot read. Her eyes look straight into me, They understand – How well they understand me. The rustle of leaves lessens the tension. Autumn will come soon, The summer wind whispers to me: This country, this language, These people, these doubts. This is not blind luck, This is your blessing, Purple, rainy months, a fleshy heart, Falling hair, joy when relief comes, Crying into a pillow – So as not to disturb another’s dreaming About the so-called reality. Bare feet touch the ground. I tread carefully on the edge of worlds, To be both here and there With my integrity. I am everything and nothing. I am gestures, epilepsy, The belief that I see human thoughts, Inconsistent with what they say. Blue, sun, and somewhere you. How good that you stayed. When everyone was saying: She is different, She talks to ghosts. You stayed, showing me Your true face.
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Aug 11, 2025
Aug 11, 2025 at 12:27 PM UTC
White Birch
I may be young and often written off because due to my adolescence but I still feel like everyone else and I still learn from my lessons and as the days fly by and the innocence in my heart lessens just remember I was never insane I just lost track of counting my blessings
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Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 10:27 AM UTC
Adolescent struggle
Anger fills my heart and soul Anger takes a mighty toll Anger lessens but can never leave Anger you hope to never receive, Anger stays forever within Anger acts with the might of all sin Anger is deadly to all around Anger gets mad at the thought of sound Anger is the thoughts in my head Anger that’s mine all should dread Anger for me is different from you Anger you see tells me what to do Anger will sit and whisper in my ear Anger he sits and tells me all that you fear, Anger… He is here He’s here to stay Anger is the hole In which we lay Anger is And Anger will Always be with us He is in me, and he is in you He can make you do What he wants you to Anger will make you Make you cry Anger can make you Want to die Anger can make you Go insane Anger….. ... A blood filled rain No more anger No more….. Walk to the bright light Shinning through that door… Not knowing what’s in store But even then Anger lives on But you… nevermore
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Dec 24, 2011
Dec 24, 2011 at 5:55 PM UTC
Anger
Anger fills my heart and soul Anger takes a mighty toll Anger lessens but can never leave Anger you hope to never receive, Anger stays forever within Anger acts with the might of all sin Anger is deadly to all around Anger gets mad at the thought of sound Anger is the thoughts in my head Anger that’s mine all should dread Anger for me is different from you Anger you see tells me what to do Anger will sit and whisper in my ear Anger he sits and tells me all that you fear, Anger… He is here He’s here to stay Anger is the hole In which we lay Anger is And Anger will Always be with us He is in me, and he is in you He can make you do What he wants you to Anger will make you Make you cry Anger can make you Want to die Anger can make you Go insane Anger….. ... A blood filled rain No more anger No more….. Walk to the bright light Shinning through that door… Not knowing what’s in store But even then Anger lives on But you… nevermore
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Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 7:30 PM UTC
Yeux Gris
Anger is the next thing to setting me off, Even a hug won't make me soft Anger stays forever within, Anger acts in all ways of sin Anger fills my heart and soul, Anger takes a mighty toll Anger lessens but can never leave, Anger you hope to never receive Anger for me is different from you, Anger you see tells me what to do Anger will sit and whisper in my ear, Anger sits and tells me all that I fear.
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Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 1:09 AM UTC
Anger
Your insecurities change, all that you hear, who you are inside, and how you appear. It decides what you do, and what you see, it lessens what you want, and who you'll be. It won't let your dreams, go as high as the sky, you stay on the ground, though you're able to fly. Won't put your foot forward, so you go with the flow, too scared of goodbye, to think of hello. You're less than your best, and a little too late, your shoulders now carry, a little more weight. Slow your mind down, and stop holding back, 'cause you are what you are, and not what you lack.
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Jan 28, 2011
Jan 28, 2011 at 5:54 PM UTC
Insecurities
A square, white, four bedroom, one bath country home With fourteen kids, parents and much family love We didn’t have abundance: fiscally poor But we had each other: banked on our family We shared our victories and or trying pain We were a modest Scottish Catholic Clan Isolated, we were not to our immediate clan Our uncle’s lived within a trot, fifteen in his home We kids worked and played on the farm without pain It was an adventurous labor of extended family love We worked, laughed, cried, and played as a family In the early years, we young ones were anything but poor However, in grammar school, we learned the meaning of poor And materialism and envy, outside our cloistered clan But together we lived and loved as a close nit family Sure we had disagreements, not material goods, but a solid home White paint peeled on the outside, yet inside was painted love Still, there were poverty jokes, ridicule and masked pain Every family has strife, baggage, and superfluous pain Our parents didn’t drink; we had faith, yet fiscally poor Ole Dad plumbed toilets; Mom slaved in the house, both with love So we wouldn’t trade riches for our impoverished meager clan Summer berries to pick, winter sledding, spring kites, and forever home Kickball games, splashing in ponds, nature hikes and family We were not taught to show emotions, hug, not an “I love you family,” Albeit, an honest, polite, and proud Scottish Clan The old house was eternally warm; it was our forever home Until 1999. Dad passed from cancer still money poor Yet rich in the knowledge of family and that his true pain Was never saying that word; on his deathbed he whispered “Love” Though our patriarch was laid to rest, we rose with the word “Love” Eventually, the house was sold, but always one huge family Mom spends her days in a retirement home remembering her clan As time passes and memories fades, it lessens the pain Of the loss of a noble father, economically poor Yet with a strong work ethic, church, and love, built a home Fourteen children now forged fourteen homes on love Many, still, financially poor, but rich in forever family Correcting mistakes that caused pain, while perpetuating our clan
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Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 3:23 PM UTC
Forever Home (Sestina)
A square, white, four bedroom, one bath country home With fourteen kids, parents and much family love We didn’t have abundance: fiscally poor But we had each other: banked on our family We shared our victories and or trying pain We were a modest Scottish Catholic Clan Isolated, we were not to our immediate clan Our uncle’s lived within a trot, fifteen in his home We kids worked and played on the farm without pain It was an adventurous labor of extended family love We worked, laughed, cried, and played as a family In the early years, we young ones were anything but poor However, in grammar school, we learned the meaning of poor And materialism and envy, outside our cloistered clan But together we lived and loved as a close nit family Sure we had disagreements, not material goods, but a solid home White paint peeled on the outside, yet inside was painted love Still, there were poverty jokes, ridicule and masked pain Every family has strife, baggage, and superfluous pain Our parents didn’t drink; we had faith, yet fiscally poor Ole Dad plumbed toilets; Mom slaved in the house, both with love So we wouldn’t trade riches for our impoverished meager clan Summer berries to pick, winter sledding, spring kites, and forever home Kickball games, splashing in ponds, nature hikes and family We were not taught to show emotions, hug, not an “I love you family,” Albeit, an honest, polite, and proud Scottish Clan The old house was eternally warm; it was our forever home Until 1999. Dad passed from cancer still money poor Yet rich in the knowledge of family and that his true pain Was never saying that word; on his deathbed he whispered “Love” Though our patriarch was laid to rest, we rose with the word “Love” Eventually, the house was sold, but always one huge family Mom spends her days in a retirement home remembering her clan As time passes and memories fades, it lessens the pain Of the loss of a noble father, economically poor Yet with a strong work ethic, church, and love, built a home Fourteen children now forged fourteen homes on love Many, still, financially poor, but rich in forever family Correcting mistakes that caused pain, while perpetuating our clan
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39
I love physics And I know why I love physics because Physics is like you to love When I look at you You smile The light from the sun Helps you glow to my eyes When you say something, I listen I clearly hear your voice And hear every single detail you say Because when you speak The other sounds cancel each other So that your voice Is the only sound I can hear I love physics because I can feel it on you When I’m dazed and confused, you slap my face It makes me calm It’s the way you say to me “I am here so don’t worry” When it happens that we swap position I’ll kiss you and show my love to you In that way I can say “Being sad doesn’t suit you” When I am cold, you hug me I hug you when you are cold too These simple hugs mean I love you and you love me too I know you don’t want a selfish person So I am persevering to change myself for you My care for myself lessens Now, I don’t know Where I should put those cares that I take Do you have any idea? What if, I will put it all to you? So every time my care for myself decreases My care for you will increase I love physics because Physics makes me alive Just the way you do Because I can’t live without you When we are far apart, I worry But I know you are fine Because when something bad happened to you It will happen to me also When your heart stop to beat My heart will stop too Because you know My life is in series with you When you are switched ‘on’ Then I will be ‘on’ When someone shut you ‘off’ My life will be turned ‘off’ I like you because I don’t know why but Everything is nicer with you How much do you weigh? I think you are heavier than me Maybe that’s the reason why I fell in love to you As Albert Einstein said, “Mass is a force alone” So your force overcomes me I guess I don’t know why I really love you Why do I also love physics? I think I love you. . . I guess I love physics. . . Because physics is you
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Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 10:13 AM UTC
Physics is You
I love physics And I know why I love physics because Physics is like you to love When I look at you You smile The light from the sun Helps you glow to my eyes When you say something, I listen I clearly hear your voice And hear every single detail you say Because when you speak The other sounds cancel each other So that your voice Is the only sound I can hear I love physics because I can feel it on you When I’m dazed and confused, you slap my face It makes me calm It’s the way you say to me “I am here so don’t worry” When it happens that we swap position I’ll kiss you and show my love to you In that way I can say “Being sad doesn’t suit you” When I am cold, you hug me I hug you when you are cold too These simple hugs mean I love you and you love me too I know you don’t want a selfish person So I am persevering to change myself for you My care for myself lessens Now, I don’t know Where I should put those cares that I take Do you have any idea? What if, I will put it all to you? So every time my care for myself decreases My care for you will increase I love physics because Physics makes me alive Just the way you do Because I can’t live without you When we are far apart, I worry But I know you are fine Because when something bad happened to you It will happen to me also When your heart stop to beat My heart will stop too Because you know My life is in series with you When you are switched ‘on’ Then I will be ‘on’ When someone shut you ‘off’ My life will be turned ‘off’ I like you because I don’t know why but Everything is nicer with you How much do you weigh? I think you are heavier than me Maybe that’s the reason why I fell in love to you As Albert Einstein said, “Mass is a force alone” So your force overcomes me I guess I don’t know why I really love you Why do I also love physics? I think I love you. . . I guess I love physics. . . Because physics is you
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69
Life’s obstacles can only delay us from achieving our God-given purpose; instead of becoming frustrated, we should look to Christ and just focus on the underlying issues in prayer. Obstacles may perfect personal traits, like having peace by waiting on Him, so that our hearts are not deflated. They kick up dust, blinding our vision whereby, we must go back to Him again; When our eyes are focused on Christ, He lights our path and lessens our pain. Instead of worrying and becoming anxious, I’ve decided to cast my burdens on Christ, knowing that He earnestly cares for us; employing His principles, no real strife can ever deter us from personal victories. We’re blessed, from persevering our trials; for these too, will eventually leave us, lasting but a short, inconvenient while. . . . Author notes Inspired by: Psa 27:1, 119:2; Isa 41:13; 1 Pet 5:7; Jam 1:12; Prov 3:5-6 and "No matter how big or small the obstacles we face in our spiritual journey, as long as we keep our eyes on the Lord, we will reach our destiny that God has prepared for us beforehand to fulfill in this life, and hence inherit a mighty reward for it in the life to come. Keep your eyes in between the start and end of your faith on Jesus because He is the one who actually starts as the author and also ends as the finisher of your faith, He is able to keep you safe from the drowning of worry and unbelief by His supernatural power to stay afloat to reach your heavenly destination!" —Abraham Israel Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
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Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 9:54 AM UTC
Poem: Obstacles in Life
Life’s obstacles can only delay us from achieving our God-given purpose; instead of becoming frustrated, we should look to Christ and just focus on the underlying issues in prayer. Obstacles may perfect personal traits, like having peace by waiting on Him, so that our hearts are not deflated. They kick up dust, blinding our vision whereby, we must go back to Him again; When our eyes are focused on Christ, He lights our path and lessens our pain. Instead of worrying and becoming anxious, I’ve decided to cast my burdens on Christ, knowing that He earnestly cares for us; employing His principles, no real strife can ever deter us from personal victories. We’re blessed, from persevering our trials; for these too, will eventually leave us, lasting but a short, inconvenient while. . . . Author notes Inspired by: Psa 27:1, 119:2; Isa 41:13; 1 Pet 5:7; Jam 1:12; Prov 3:5-6 and "No matter how big or small the obstacles we face in our spiritual journey, as long as we keep our eyes on the Lord, we will reach our destiny that God has prepared for us beforehand to fulfill in this life, and hence inherit a mighty reward for it in the life to come. Keep your eyes in between the start and end of your faith on Jesus because He is the one who actually starts as the author and also ends as the finisher of your faith, He is able to keep you safe from the drowning of worry and unbelief by His supernatural power to stay afloat to reach your heavenly destination!" —Abraham Israel Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
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31
I hit a Jack Rabbit going sixty or seventy five, I turned off the radio, I was on the road for 18 hours already, thats when shadows come alive, I never hit anything before, never killed anything that big. When I was 14, I lived in Kansas, Kansas city granted, but Kansas all the same. We would go to my friends farm, he owned enough guns for a small militia, mostly shotguns. There were 3 of us, with three scatter killing booms. We would rake the fields to flush anything out, crickets, grasshoppers, we hoped for ducks or quail (I only pretended too, I wasn't sure then if my ***** really dropped) and we would shoot, Sometimes for the noise, other times for the show. I never killed anything. On the way back home I saw a little chickadee perched high in a tree, I shot, and he fell. "Nice one man!" I ran over, hiding my tears, and buried him. I got out of there as soon as I could, Kansas that is, I was stuck at the farm. Eight years later and I'm still not sure about my ***** This time I didn't bury him. I like to think it was male, for some reason that lessens the pain. I don't know if I crushed the life out of him quickly, I imagine it was slow, toturing myself with every detail as my retribution. Made a nice thump though. I could feel his delicate body even through the tire the shocks and the rest of the parts between me and his ****** corpse. Softer than a speed bump. Why did Dorothy ever go home.
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Dec 18, 2010
Dec 18, 2010 at 11:30 PM UTC
Dorothy's a jackrabbit killing chickadee
Earth's children cleave to Earth--her frail Decaying children dread decay. Yon wreath of mist that leaves the vale, And lessens in the morning ray: Look, how, by mountain rivulet, It lingers as it upward creeps, And clings to fern and copsewood set Along the green and dewy steeps: Clings to the fragrant kalmia, clings To precipices fringed with grass, Dark maples where the wood-thrush sings, And bowers of fragrant sassafras. Yet all in vain--it passes still From hold to hold, it cannot stay, And in the very beams that fill The world with glory, wastes away, Till, parting from the mountain's brow, It vanishes from human eye, And that which sprung of earth is now A portion of the glorious sky.
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2.2k
Earth's Children Cleave To Earth
Whenever I'm in pain I just whisper "I'm a Marine I'm a Marine I'm a Marine" Because Marines are the strongest The first to fight The few, the proud I can't wait until I claim the title And live up to my name But before that, I believe I am a Marine And the pain always lessens
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Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 6:26 PM UTC
From the Halls of Montezuma
If only I could whisper All the things I want to convey All the feelings I kept In my fragile heart All the love I have for you I would want to tell the whole world how much you mean to me how much of a beautiful human being you are But I’d rather keep quiet and tell it all to you Besides, you’re already my world Though I could only pray at night when it gets dark But your thoughts, they comfort me and your voice lessens the creeping voices in my head Oh, I could only sound asleep Every night Wishing that you knew In the midst of silence It is you whom I want to fill it with
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Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 11:50 AM UTC
In the Midst of Silence
There're endless ways to write give vent to a joy or to pain heavy stuff or childly light sunshine or broken sky's rain. It depends on the day the mood good times or bad on the way shapes the words your attitude color them the way you want to say. Endless are the ways to fill the page rhythm and structure and rhyme clear as daylight or a maze depends how you're treated by the time. You choose from the collage endless words that may sadden entertain when broken you may choose to show a face that by lighting smiles lessens your pain.
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Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 10:20 AM UTC
From the Endless Ways
Wedged between the here & now, what difference does it make? Brain waves plummet..creating an even louder silence between these frail walls. They pulse with reason, veins sickly humming. Vocabulary lessens until communication falters. Let's grunt at one another over cheap pizza & a flickering television. Let's make a life together.
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Oct 6, 2012
Oct 6, 2012 at 2:27 PM UTC
Grunt.
Recently it seems every time we talk our cacophonous voices don't sing. The harmony's off-- lost it's charming ring. The tye-dye mind's eye melody is mellowing into a gray spring. And I'm wondering why? But... I think I know. Only asked cause I was hopin' you might hum some other musical notes, ones that won't turn this song into a black swan dive forced to call the huntin' dogs to track back to a time where you and I laughed freely. But there's this feeling that this is how your other he must have felt while you and me were undoing our belts-- yelling & screaming as my parents were sleeping upstairs above-- we played each other like saxophones to this grand Nirvana relaxed crescendo! But as this poem progresses the tempo stiffens--     your voice lessens-- as the harmony's off-key and the melody's riff softens. It's not hitting me hard like a gong- feels like two people singing different lyrics into the same microphone. Someone with synesthesia can see our colorful speech atrophy instead of pirouetting in turquoise dreams. If that sounds harsh, sorry, that's the reality I perceive-- we don't want each other to leave, But our avoidance of labeling what we are also established what we weren't and now this playful...thing? we had feels like a breaking carafe as it hits the floor. I want to continue writing you more poems and songs but it's hard when the harmony's off-key and losing it's charm.    This new lentando^ tempo's like a left arm going numb. I want to keep composing but it feels like water instead of kerosine pouring on the fire that was inspiring as this mournful melody dilates throughout my being.
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Feb 12, 2012
Feb 12, 2012 at 12:37 AM UTC
Pouring water on the music
Recently it seems every time we talk our cacophonous voices don't sing. The harmony's off-- lost it's charming ring. The tye-dye mind's eye melody is mellowing into a gray spring. And I'm wondering why? But... I think I know. Only asked cause I was hopin' you might hum some other musical notes, ones that won't turn this song into a black swan dive forced to call the huntin' dogs to track back to a time where you and I laughed freely. But there's this feeling that this is how your other he must have felt while you and me were undoing our belts-- yelling & screaming as my parents were sleeping upstairs above-- we played each other like saxophones to this grand Nirvana relaxed crescendo! But as this poem progresses the tempo stiffens--     your voice lessens-- as the harmony's off-key and the melody's riff softens. It's not hitting me hard like a gong- feels like two people singing different lyrics into the same microphone. Someone with synesthesia can see our colorful speech atrophy instead of pirouetting in turquoise dreams. If that sounds harsh, sorry, that's the reality I perceive-- we don't want each other to leave, But our avoidance of labeling what we are also established what we weren't and now this playful...thing? we had feels like a breaking carafe as it hits the floor. I want to continue writing you more poems and songs but it's hard when the harmony's off-key and losing it's charm.    This new lentando^ tempo's like a left arm going numb. I want to keep composing but it feels like water instead of kerosine pouring on the fire that was inspiring as this mournful melody dilates throughout my being.
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52
Stand on the edge and look down .... It is so far down that reality blurs into an abstract haze. Is it solid ground, soft verdant green that will envelop you in its caress as you land? Is it hard concrete that waits to shatter-splatter you into a liquid pool? Is it that empty eternal void you tumble into night on night, as you clutch at your throat, as you gasp for that last, lingering breath? Perhaps it is Death that awaits you in his welcoming grasp? Stand on the edge and look down … The ground is giving way beneath your feet. Your heartbeat rises to a crescendo in your chest. You cannot breathe. Frantically, you grab at the cloth by your neck. Your legs are weak. You feel the earth crumbling away. Your eyes stare wild and wide. A scream echoes ghastly, panicked, reverberating around you in a maelstrom of despair. Is this your voice? Stand on the edge and look down … only scant seconds remain. What will you do? Dare you step back? Can you will your shrieking mind to comprehend, to obey? And if you do, are you safe? Reach behind you, go on, you can .... Feel it? The wall, rough and damp? Touch it, grasp at it, your scrabbling fingers shredded and bleeding from the sharp rock it doesn't matter. Find a purchase and drag yourself towards it, rest your clammy face against the rough-hewn stone, caress the damp rock with your cheek, ignore the ****** tears that course down your face, breathe again; Your chest heaves, your mouth agape drawing in draughts of cold air. The pounding of your heart lessens. Now close your eyes, sleep, sleep ...
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Sep 23, 2012
Sep 23, 2012 at 11:49 AM UTC
On the Edge
Stand on the edge and look down .... It is so far down that reality blurs into an abstract haze. Is it solid ground, soft verdant green that will envelop you in its caress as you land? Is it hard concrete that waits to shatter-splatter you into a liquid pool? Is it that empty eternal void you tumble into night on night, as you clutch at your throat, as you gasp for that last, lingering breath? Perhaps it is Death that awaits you in his welcoming grasp? Stand on the edge and look down … The ground is giving way beneath your feet. Your heartbeat rises to a crescendo in your chest. You cannot breathe. Frantically, you grab at the cloth by your neck. Your legs are weak. You feel the earth crumbling away. Your eyes stare wild and wide. A scream echoes ghastly, panicked, reverberating around you in a maelstrom of despair. Is this your voice? Stand on the edge and look down … only scant seconds remain. What will you do? Dare you step back? Can you will your shrieking mind to comprehend, to obey? And if you do, are you safe? Reach behind you, go on, you can .... Feel it? The wall, rough and damp? Touch it, grasp at it, your scrabbling fingers shredded and bleeding from the sharp rock it doesn't matter. Find a purchase and drag yourself towards it, rest your clammy face against the rough-hewn stone, caress the damp rock with your cheek, ignore the ****** tears that course down your face, breathe again; Your chest heaves, your mouth agape drawing in draughts of cold air. The pounding of your heart lessens. Now close your eyes, sleep, sleep ...
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54
I stared at the big blue cloud, It was in my hands, It was so blue that it depressed me But it was only fluffy candy I picked a piece from the cloud I digested it with my eyes and soul, It was the brightness to a child's life It was my only happiness You look at candy, As sweetness to your life, but to me it was more, It was the only freedom I had in the world I bit into the blue sweetness As it dissolved in my mouth, It dissolved my pain, I was sure everything would be fine again Then, when the cotton got stuck between my teeth, So did my hopes and dreams. I felt like a fool for believing A fool for trying A tear slid down my cheek Making the candy bittersweet No Cotton Candy can make it go away Rewrite my story When they fought and screamed, I'd try find my happy place, Eat my sweet Blue Candy, And just pray it away I've tried everything Clovers to Rabbit's Feet, But this heavenly cloud was the only price to pay If my life was all drunk and dead Would it **** to find my demise-free zone And just eat some Cloudy Candy instead? If wishes came true, With every bite I took I would have father with me A Mother to love me I kept eating the candy though Even if it didn't taste heavenly anymore Tears kept streaming down with every bite I kept the harshness inside The faster I ate, the more it hurt, I couldn't swallow the lumps in my throat, The pain developed inside of me, Like a tumour, I was a waste, never needed. You eat all the Candyfloss in the world, it won't work. It just sweetens the pain, lessens the hurt.
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Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 7:03 AM UTC
Candyfloss
I stared at the big blue cloud, It was in my hands, It was so blue that it depressed me But it was only fluffy candy I picked a piece from the cloud I digested it with my eyes and soul, It was the brightness to a child's life It was my only happiness You look at candy, As sweetness to your life, but to me it was more, It was the only freedom I had in the world I bit into the blue sweetness As it dissolved in my mouth, It dissolved my pain, I was sure everything would be fine again Then, when the cotton got stuck between my teeth, So did my hopes and dreams. I felt like a fool for believing A fool for trying A tear slid down my cheek Making the candy bittersweet No Cotton Candy can make it go away Rewrite my story When they fought and screamed, I'd try find my happy place, Eat my sweet Blue Candy, And just pray it away I've tried everything Clovers to Rabbit's Feet, But this heavenly cloud was the only price to pay If my life was all drunk and dead Would it **** to find my demise-free zone And just eat some Cloudy Candy instead? If wishes came true, With every bite I took I would have father with me A Mother to love me I kept eating the candy though Even if it didn't taste heavenly anymore Tears kept streaming down with every bite I kept the harshness inside The faster I ate, the more it hurt, I couldn't swallow the lumps in my throat, The pain developed inside of me, Like a tumour, I was a waste, never needed. You eat all the Candyfloss in the world, it won't work. It just sweetens the pain, lessens the hurt.
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49
The curtain quietly rustles in the taunting silence Bearing no mocking shadows to bridge the distance For death is certainly the ultimate solemn toast There’s no getting back of even a faintest ghost! Nothing but a fading smell that’s not really much Other than the living one’s yearning for a touch For words left unsaid and relations that never grew Alas no rewinding, a once more living through! The leaves on the grave rustle in the taunting silence The gnawing pain inside, no phantom lessens!
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Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 5:08 AM UTC
Taunting Silence
I feel my head exploding, splitting really, into a thousand clouds of silver. An uncharted breakdown that is so very familiar. People should be held accountable for the actions of others. The pressure lessens its grip on my spinal cord. The musical adaptation of my life blossoms before my very eyes. Seen through a dream catcher that is broken with nightmares of fallen ancestors. Please, forgive me for rambling. Words are hypnotic and let me forget about the ringing in my head. A thousand decibels of silence, shattered. They are forgotten by society. Forced to live in gangways with cockroaches and the pages of old leather bound books. They leave on a wing and a prayer. Bathed in dust and dirt, they hear the barking of the pitbull inside my head. Brought down by the blade. I once observed a church being boarded up, blocking out the elements and homeless. It was calming. Does that make me a horrible person? Eerily beautiful. I wish I could go back to that moment in time, frozen in place. My head explodes. Can you hear the bell tower ringing Quasimodo? Chimes louder than a bomb, falling through the rotted out wood. It's for the best. The Horseman didn't need a head. The silence will bring me back. Remember, our actions now are our actions now. Ring the bell!
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Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 4:26 PM UTC
Silence in the Bell Tower
Now between writings I create a space so could read in ease and not in stress to fill me with things I had less not let my mind be drowned by pace. Now between writings I create a space it lessens the hurry kills the stress helps to see ways find new address discover light in untrod recess. Now between writings I create a space it shows me the order clears the mess I think now more write down less my soul is happy to be out of the race. Now between writings I create a space it reinvents ways kills the stress lets me to places I didn't access of unseen tears unread happiness.
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Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 9:50 AM UTC
Between Writings
day 1 My period came, god no the cramps day 2 Headaches, cramps, voices loud and strong while I am soft and weak I ran out of pads, pills and any other type of relief day 3 I'm sick. I'm sneezing, I'm coughing, my headache worsens and I'm still going to school. All of this and my period, it's a wonder how i'm still awake and focusing at all day 4 My voices don't stop screaming. My period pains last throughout the day. My cold won't stop. I want to stay home, I want to stay asleep, but I can't. Every time I sneeze, blood flows out like the ******* Niagara falls. My headaches don't lessen. Haven't I suffered enough? day 5 My period finally lessens, I don't even need pads, just pantyliners. My headaches have lessen too. Sadly my voices are still going loud and strong. My cold has reduced just a bit, not much, I'm still sneezing half of my brain out. day 6 **** **** **** **** **** it all! I don't want to deal with this anymore!!! Just ******* let me sleep. I'm going insane. The cramps **** the cramps! I can barely get out of bed! What the actual **** I though my period was leaving! **** day 7 period left, sickness is reduced to the occasional cough and sneeze. Voices have quieted down to a loud whisper. Thank god this week is finally over.
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May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 9:21 AM UTC
The worst week
I miss the crickets. I miss the frogs. I miss the smell of my skin, my perfume in my bed next to wood and hot night air that speaks more to things of mystery than the dark of the night can. I miss the sky. No, I really miss the sky. The crop of trees and the clarity that allows for you to look at galaxies and talk about what it is and how small it feels to be human. How mortal it feels to be willed to wants at the tug and pull of every emotion. I miss them. I miss them. I miss their arms, tangled legs, and sweaty curls. Their smell that differentiated from the nape of their neck to their cheek to their thigh. The sweetness of their salvia. The unbounded love. The innocence. The fresh, sensitive pain. I am numb. I yearn for something greater such that my heart aches and I tremble with premature grief every time I close my eyes and breathe. I think of your face. Not a day has gone by. I love your memory. I pray it lessens in it's hurt, but that it never leaves me. I miss those California stars.
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Jul 25, 2013
Jul 25, 2013 at 12:16 AM UTC
Abandoned Airport
Knowledge teaches us How much is our need Vices inundates In the swirl of greed. Increasing knowledge Lessens the needs Guides the soul Towards wisdom and peace Vices are like Cancerous germs Increases the greed To destroy oneself. Goal of life Is to attain love and peace With greed We can never reach that place. Greed is Like a hunting trap It allures, attracts And ruins at last. Increasing knowledge Lessens the needs Guides the a soul Towards wisdom and peace ===================== Amitava (4.11.2014) 7-00 am ©ALL RIGHTS RESERVED BY AMITAVA SUR
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Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 7:14 AM UTC
In The Swirl Of Greed