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tinhearts Dec 2018
Happiness is extinguished
While the heart still needs to shine
Dampening as the years establish
A cloud covers the divine
Like a cocoon
Being kept
For a later time
Believing in a God
Not yet understanding or ever taught the IAM
Who and what was this clever protective pod
Always condemned
Stepping out of childhood
Nobody cared what means are suffering ahead
Building a relationship
Between the heart and soul
Always thinking lightly yet now under Satan’s toll
Life has a way of drifting
Flowing with the tides pull
Never really knowing
The voice that kept control
Understated authority
Above the sinking sand
Strongholds of a purity
Underneath enemies hand
Slipping through loopholes
Unimaginable escapes
Drawing to another plan
Altogether youthful place
As if another lifetime omits mistakes
Eyes opening beyond
Renovation undertakes
A hairpin turn pulls
The shades
Brighter is the view
Whispered promises made
All to the planned purposes anew
Now focused to make the grade
Light everywhere
Showing where to go
No need for conversation
There’s an entrance to the know
Obedience sets in secretly
No observation shown
God’s plans have no time
Perfectly set for salvation’s zone
Years muffle confused
Believing sets the course
Earthquakes upheaval
The beginning of the truth enforced
Years months minutes no time
Wave lengths of revelations
A new attention rewind
Focused on the truth’s elevation
The Light and Life unwind
Opening up new worlds proof of constellation
God’s behind all time
What a relief unfurls
Finally In safe hands
Embraced by the Light of the World
His peace amidst turmoil as He holds time in the palm of His hand.
*
tinhearts~©️



The unfolding of your words gives light;
it imparts understanding to the simple.
Ruth Cardenas May 12
How I wished to end a sadness
One as dark as it is deep
I longed-for that goodbye
But the evil follows me

I craved for the tranquility
Loopholes in my peace
Hindered me from happiness
It dismantled parts of me

I yearned for a forever
In the moments that the rain
Poured along the concrete floor
And reflected to me, pain

How I craved a simple moment
Where the sadness left my eyes
All I wanted was serenity  
To stop hoping for goodbye
Tommy Randell Aug 2017
I want to eat again at my Mother's table,
Be lost in those unending fables.
Difficult though to talk about the Man in the room
That shadow standing upright in the gloom -

There are many endings to a line,
First choose the moment, then the time.

Why go there, why find the past at all?
Convince me this present needs a re-install -
Do you say perhaps this is how things are meant to be,
That victims after all never write their history?

There are are many endings to a line,
Our memories were never made as shrines -

I will not live in an undiscovered past,
Time has loopholes that unwind at last,
That only those who lived it may observe
An eloquence of choices no-one heard -

The measured man has all his life complete
When shadows stand at last upright in the light?

I want to heal this broken picture book,
What really came of all the hurt I took,
What happened to make me write this poem,
How only the Truth makes sense of where I'm going -

I will disclose the brutalities and facts
I will not live in an undiscovered past !

Tommy Randell 08th August 2017
Difficult to write ...
Holland Michels Aug 2018
When I was 14, i began
to lose myself
it took awhile for me
to completely disappear
but eventually I did

I don't really know
when I started to search for me

Like a roller coaster
I found and lost myself
over and over again
It was like my mind was playing a game

Testing me on just how much
I wanted to find myself

As I searched
I found loopholes
Beginning to understand
That even those closest to me
Believed I was okay
If i didn't show my true self

So in secret, I found a dark side
The only part of me
At the time,
That made any sense

It was so easy to get stuck in that place

after a year, i wanted
To be pulled out from this world
I wanted to feel like I was normal
But I wasn't

And I don't know if I ever will be
But I keep trying

I still haven't found me
I feel like i'm in there
but I don't know how
to pursue normalcy just yet

But I keep trying

and one day I'll be able to say...


I found me
#thejourney #waiting
Dominique Oct 2018
There once was a boy
Who smelled his future in the pine leaves.

He kicked up ice like it was glass, weaved cleverly
Through the loopholes in the rules with easy laugh,
Staining windows ecstatic with his smile,
Working up a masterpiece of a life
That made the soil soften as he pelted across it
Hiding from rain.

That boy had his difficulties, like the October sky
Has its fogs and sunken clouds
But the sunshine loved him then, loved his olive eyes
So he was always forgiven in the end.

I imagine that life felt, all at once,
That this angel had taken too much from it.
After all, you can't be beautiful and happy at the same time.
Perhaps Fate saw him as a thief masked in evergreen,
Picking life's treasures up like cheap marbles
And running away with them as fast as he could.

It did not matter in the slightest that he created good
Out of triumphs and charms that could have gone to waste;
Easy life was over, and the maliciously fanged beast
That forced itself into his old friend's place
Did not enjoy golden smiles or childlike contentment.

So they took his father,
Like the eastern wind takes the sand from the desert
And spits it into the traveller's eye.

That was, I am told, the beginning of the darkness.

I met him, idly wandering on my own path, a few years later.
The pines had turned to ash and smoked instead,
But light still sweated off him in waves
And not even the thickest coat could conceal it.

He turned liquor into water
And sadness into an emotion I could have lived in forever.
He turned bored, grey words inside my mind
Into a rainbow of colours I could use to paint his portrait
On a notebook page.

I lost him a little while ago, and to this day I'm not sure what will become of him-
But I will forever hold a grudge against the Universe
For taking him away from me too early because of passion
And for concealing the bright happy boy
With the death of a loving father.

Life isn't fair.
Had the Little Prince lived on Earth, maybe life would have done the same to him.
Heather Aug 25
life is a head game
you play with yourself
the mind is a rabbit hole
guarded by chess masters
    it can seem a dull game
    unless you appreciate an ironic sort of            
    metalogic humor
    because it WILL **** with you
    but give a serious shove back
    and you’ll see
    complexity branching like lightning
          graceful inversions
          indiscernible evasions
     loopholes fox holes hidey holes
          hidden passages filled with light
     and finally
     you won’t know what’s real

you’ll see
your mind doesn’t love you
it’s not on your side
it’s a program
and you’re running it on the default setting
     you need an eviscerating honesty
     to dialogue with the programmer
     you really need to like knives
     and be able to
          put the pieces
back
          together
     tricky stuff
     could go either way really
     you could end up
     a ****** disassociated mess
     or some kind of
          bodhi
     bodhisattva
     so...
     wish me luck
This is, I don’t know, 3 or 4 poems nested in a poem
Godawan Apr 26
What name should be given
to that enquiry
Which gets fever
Seeing baseless lies
Many are involved
some knowns and
some unknown ties
Enquiry is affected
by all those mighties
who know all loopholes
and associated anxietis
Investigations are too handed over
to those pat loyals
who can't show faces of
their all time royals
The fire of truth is dim
while lie now beams
How can that boat maybe rowed
whose rower is under
manoeuvred streams
Surbhi Dadhich Sep 2018
" According to the Earth's gravitational pull
He threw his handkerchief up,
Deceleration would take place as it goes up
And there, It'll always come down
May be hard hitting your head..."
But it didn't as it was stuck in a switched-off fan
Innocous, curious laughs poised the atmosphere
Breezed a wind of arrogance and disapproval
"Wait..", he hopped and uplifted by table
Attempt to rescue, tide, brand handkerchief
As he rotated the fan,
" G' morning Ma'am" bowed the class
There he was
In front of the honorable principal
Sweat-Wet, Stuck on the table
Bewildered in a circle of loopholes
She giggled, wished and said,
" Oh ..My inspections truly reveal me the unseen parts of the story
That must be an integrated fun learning"..
My younger brother told me 'bout this incident in his school..
Julia Betancourt Jul 2018
If I was put here for a reason,
then why do I hate being here?
My five Okay Days are always followed
by before-bed breakdowns and I think
Life, itself, is misleading.
If things are meant to be,
then why do they never work out for some?
Why do people commit suicide and
die miserable?
If that is "meant to be".

If that is meant to be then I have been
being for a long time, now.
I can have half of my heart collapse into
predisposed, depressed ruins and quit
being able to balance on my feet,
and I will be characterized by "low self esteem".
This is not low self esteem.
This is a lifestyle,
a product of eighteen years too early and eighteen years too late,
a brain too involved to ever break through, and
life is too long.
My originality finds loopholes in your positivity.
Soon it will be 30 years too early and 30 years too late,
and my life will have never had actual life to it.
If I was meant to be,
then I was meant to be miserable.

— The End —