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"milestones" poems
It’s deeper than that. It’s deeper than the ocean. It’s this feeling I can’t bare. My heart thumping so quick Adrenaline rush when I heard the Words that you were gone. Altitude is so high I can’t even cry. 12 Empire State buildings tall, and I still really couldn’t reach my soul. My emotions overpowering many things Wishing you were here, wishing there was a golden stairway to heaven. I would climb milestones just to hear your voice. I wish I could come up home, and sit down just to see your reflection. You’re shining brightly with flashes of light. Looking like an Angel I feel your presence.   Things are unreal   time is not ours,and Forever you will be in my heart. Rest In Peace to you beautiful souls.
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Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 3:30 PM UTC
Rest in paradise
In the pursuit of happiness I walked the roads, I stopped at milestones, leaned on posts. I saw a flock of birds in flight, Rings of gold.. an orb so bright. I looked around at mountain walls, The raging sea, white frothy falls. I looked up at the sky serene, The valley lush a summer green. Banyan trees with leaves bedecked, Gulmohars lined with blossoms red. Faces walked engrossed in streets, A touch, a nod when eyes would meet.. Saw hunger, anguish, weary eyes, Sorrow, terror, shock, surprise, I saw the tears of loss and grief, Faith, resilience, resolve, belief. I heard the laughter of a child, I saw the magic of a smile. A hug, a kiss, a warm caress, A helping hand that love expressed I felt the cord of love that binds, Hearts across the world and time. I found happiness in little things, In nature that surprises springs.. His art, the colors that I saw, That left me breathless, full of awe, Happiness in that special touch, In smiles, laughter, that gentle brush. In kind words that wonders do, In love that breathes life anew. In all things that I could see, I knew happiness begins with me, Within me what I see or do, The trail of thoughts I send to you. And happiness is what I found, When happiness was spread around.
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Feb 8, 2017
Feb 8, 2017 at 9:06 AM UTC
The Pursuit of Happiness
again, madness! one eye tears, why must you return to the old familiar, the poets prescribed, already so well covered? why? must. it is the only shade of my voice that persists, all else vanity. these are words handily eye-read, given. all I need do is “repeat after me” somewhat well, and fill in the blanks. <> he writes me, in another place, to another name, describing himself: “I'm a charming man with a fragile patience.” no sir, Muses order me to disagree, you are a fragile man with a charming patience! your fragility is a royal hallmark, embedded in every scribing, this human indentation, always well hidden, on the underside of the wine cup, the base of the candlesticks, the inside of the wedding ring of your tying allegiance to the humbled humanity. the charming patience is the wait time tween your visions of the excellence of the common, the exquisites of the small, the delights of loss and pain translated into mercurial milestones, poems. here I cease, for overly long praise is a river too long, no end in sight, making great and wide just another poem. <> But! he writes me, in another place, to another name, describing himself, yet again: *”A thousand poems I don't write, but they get written in my heart.*” A thousand! ours is the patience fragile, your innate screen that filters out these thousand forbidden unwritten, needs a cleaning, open the tiny apertures and release them, for we are the humans needing, for the breathing of your fragile charm. <> the Muses do thee attend. their patience neither charming or fragile, reminding me, they too have a thousand. a thousand other ears into which to whisper that imperative imperial command, and they river no delay...
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Aug 29, 2019
Aug 29, 2019 at 11:12 AM UTC
Pradip: “I'm a charming man with a fragile patience“
again, madness! one eye tears, why must you return to the old familiar, the poets prescribed, already so well covered? why? must. it is the only shade of my voice that persists, all else vanity. these are words handily eye-read, given. all I need do is “repeat after me” somewhat well, and fill in the blanks. <> he writes me, in another place, to another name, describing himself: “I'm a charming man with a fragile patience.” no sir, Muses order me to disagree, you are a fragile man with a charming patience! your fragility is a royal hallmark, embedded in every scribing, this human indentation, always well hidden, on the underside of the wine cup, the base of the candlesticks, the inside of the wedding ring of your tying allegiance to the humbled humanity. the charming patience is the wait time tween your visions of the excellence of the common, the exquisites of the small, the delights of loss and pain translated into mercurial milestones, poems. here I cease, for overly long praise is a river too long, no end in sight, making great and wide just another poem. <> But! he writes me, in another place, to another name, describing himself, yet again: *”A thousand poems I don't write, but they get written in my heart.*” A thousand! ours is the patience fragile, your innate screen that filters out these thousand forbidden unwritten, needs a cleaning, open the tiny apertures and release them, for we are the humans needing, for the breathing of your fragile charm. <> the Muses do thee attend. their patience neither charming or fragile, reminding me, they too have a thousand. a thousand other ears into which to whisper that imperative imperial command, and they river no delay...
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Life has many milestones. Each bringing a significant change to one's life. Whether that be a birthday, a wedding, a child. But it's difficult to admit the sadder milestones that we carry with us. However these negative moments also have a significant effect on us. This is my list of milestones I hate to admit. But they have impacted me tramendously. It's time I released them so I can look ahead. Molested by a boy at age 4. Countlessly ***** by my sister starting at age 5. ***** by my therapist at age 7. Beat by my sister throughout childhood. Bribed and verbally abused by my step father to condition me to keep my issues to myself. Traumatized at 10 by my father and his ex due to a domestic abuse situation. Almost drowned from my first public panic attack at age 16. Harassed by a man at a concert at age 20. Endured the hell that relationships always bring. Attempted suicide twice at age 21. And a man attempted to **** me at a party last week while I was intoxicated. I know I'm not the only one with these difficult memories. And knowing I'm not alone will always be my comfort. But I'm letting it all out; purging out the evil so I can be releaved. And now my hope is to heal and become whole again in the healthiest way possible. I can overcome these milestones. I know I can.
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Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 12:33 AM UTC
Milestones.
Early childhood milestones **** by, first tooth, first words, first steps, first days at school. Teenage milestones are anticipated, first date, first dance, first kiss. Adult milestones arrive, first job, twenty-first, engagement, marriage, offspring. Middle age milestones are measured by milestones of offspring. Through latter years one yearns for milestones that have been. At the end of one's years one waits for the inevitable, ultimate, milestone of death and rebirth
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Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 1:11 PM UTC
Life's milestones
A frozen avalanche set my night aglitter, A festive shroud descends upon the theater. Crimson sirens cleave apart the verdant veil, Into the darkness we stride without fail. Beyond the jubilation lies the next chapter, With adamant fortitude we give thee cheer. To each their own joys; for none with least, Lest we drown in today, few dice are cast. Behold my picture, let the verdict be: asleepy. I jest, I grin, yet within: smooth boreal sea. Tis simpler to repulse that which is coveted, A gaze that levels souls; I've gladly forfeited. Why? I cannot answer what I do not know, Yet reason continues to war with my soul. Let the rain cleanse my self-aimed ire, From whence come this burning desire? By dulcet caitiff, I set my conundrum aside, The crux of life remain, my Draconian hide. Plebeian ennui paralyzes my gifted facilities, Enough sophistry, let I bid thee turgidities. Let mine eyes be painted blind. How else to behold beauty so fine? Why, my sober vision... Scream in revulsion! :DD
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Aug 28, 2010
Aug 28, 2010 at 5:13 AM UTC
Cosmetic Milestones
You Weren’t There When I Took My First Steps. When I First Talked, When I First Blew Out The Candle On My First Birthday Cake. When I Made My First Mistake. You Weren’t there To Help Me Fix It. You Weren’t There To See Me Grow. How I Wish You Had Seen My First Milestones. Now I Am Old And Grown, You Still Aren’t Here To See My Milestones. See Me Get Married, Or Celebrate My Birthday. Now I Am Dead And Gone, You Weren’t At My Funeral, You Didn’t Say Goodbye How I Wish You Had Seen All Of My Milestones.
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Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 11:20 PM UTC
Milestones
loving you wasn't an innocent kind of love, it was guilty and achy in a way that felt so good i couldn't even talk about it. and when we finally decided it was time, i lost my best friend. i felt you forget me every evening before we became strangers and i still wake up in tears in the middle of the night because in a dream, i remembered what it felt like when you held me eventually, you become numb to the pain that is no longer constant the feeling of nostalgia becomes muted by the louder sounds of life: like the ringing alarm clock reminding you that you’ve still got a job to show up to, like the radio announcer's voice telling you that we're expecting clear skies. there are moments throughout the day when you forget to think about them, forget to stare at old pictures, forget to cry in bathroom at work there are milestones that will take place and they won't show up; like your graduation, or your brother's wedding and you almost don't notice their absence. almost. you think you won't be able to go on without them, but you do. you find there are new songs stuck in your head, even if you never forget the lyrics to your old favourite one. you learn to let go in small parts - you hear his name and your body doesn't flinch, you walk past the liquor aisle without thinking to pick up his favourite brand of whiskey. and one day, without even realizing, you notice how straight you stand without the weight of their world pushing down on your shoulders.
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Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 4:55 PM UTC
Theory
A Milestone Should not be a millstone, Weighting your Spirit. Rather, a stepping stone Buoyed in the water of life. Used to keep you Above water As you bridge the gap. Milestones should not Be millstones. Rather, paver stones Used to mark your path. Where you've been.   Where you're going. Forming a pleasing pattern In the Earth to gaze upon. To excitedly anticipate. Milestones should not Be millstones. To grind you down While you continue to grow. Rather, gem stones That glitter with the light Marking the Blessings Along your path. Milestones are not millstones. Unless you see them that way.
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Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 7:51 PM UTC
Milestone
Women Rising: Five Predictions for Women in the 2012 Workplace In Society 3.0, Dr. Wilen-Daugenti presents a compelling case for how women’s prospects in business are on the rise. Based on her research at Apollo Research Institute, she predicts that in 2012, women in the workplace will reach the following milestones: 1. More women will become leaders in the workplace. In 2012, 18 women will be running Fortune 500 companies—the highest number yet. This confirms a rising trend of women’s corporate leadership. The U.S. Government Accountability Office reported that in 2009, 40% of managers in the workforce were women. In 2010, women held 15.7% of board seats at Fortune 500 companies. 2. Women-owned firms will drive job creation and employment. Women business owners employ 35% more people than all the Fortune 500 companies combined. Women own 10.1 million U.S. firms, employing more than 13 million people and generating $1.9 trillion in sales as of 2008. 3. Women will obtain higher education in greater numbers. Women now earn more degrees than men, with graduates from all ethnic, racial, and socioeconomic groups racing past men in rates of completing programs of study. Women aged 25 to 34 are more likely to have a college degree and are more likely than men to go to graduate school. By 2012, women are expected to earn 60% of bachelor’s degrees, 63% of master’s degrees, and 54% of doctoral and professional degrees.
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Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 6:14 PM UTC
Women On The Rise
Marooned  land-locked     on  island  earth Born with an orphan’s     unknowable ache Born with an empath heart – always feeling too much – mystic receptors wide awake     in a highly sensitive soul It’s as if I've walked along       forever alone,     one step at a time,     lost in a restless nebula from the earth to the moon Consciously dreaming       to steal away,  bearing the weight of the sky,  upwards over the mountain, away from these chains          that bind     The maelstroms echo behind silenced, probing eyes with an unsated thirst       to be wanted     dead or otherwise: Never understanding     the reasons why, spinning around in my head; where "once upon a time"         was hidden,         buried alive               A lifetime spent trying     to unlearn the things     I wish I’d never     sought to know,     clinging to the love I've touched in my life   evermore enwombed        in my heart     Passing milestones: walking another barefoot mile passing so many locked doors     without keyholes – way outside the lines –     Choking on all     the latent words       lay fallow,        left unsaid  Always looking for something dreamt but seldom manifest  Growing so tired and weary with no one standing by my side;   no one to lay down beside me     to take a rest for awhile Just another chapter in a timeless same old story;   another dark star       burned – out       – vanished – into the utter obscurity of a sky so close and yet        so far away... Jesse Stillwater ... August 22, 2018
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Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 7:21 PM UTC
Marooned
Marooned  land-locked     on  island  earth Born with an orphan’s     unknowable ache Born with an empath heart – always feeling too much – mystic receptors wide awake     in a highly sensitive soul It’s as if I've walked along       forever alone,     one step at a time,     lost in a restless nebula from the earth to the moon Consciously dreaming       to steal away,  bearing the weight of the sky,  upwards over the mountain, away from these chains          that bind     The maelstroms echo behind silenced, probing eyes with an unsated thirst       to be wanted     dead or otherwise: Never understanding     the reasons why, spinning around in my head; where "once upon a time"         was hidden,         buried alive               A lifetime spent trying     to unlearn the things     I wish I’d never     sought to know,     clinging to the love I've touched in my life   evermore enwombed        in my heart     Passing milestones: walking another barefoot mile passing so many locked doors     without keyholes – way outside the lines –     Choking on all     the latent words       lay fallow,        left unsaid  Always looking for something dreamt but seldom manifest  Growing so tired and weary with no one standing by my side;   no one to lay down beside me     to take a rest for awhile Just another chapter in a timeless same old story;   another dark star       burned – out       – vanished – into the utter obscurity of a sky so close and yet        so far away... Jesse Stillwater ... August 22, 2018
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I have today grown old. I was never told, Make every day count. I counted days, Missed some years, My advice may fall on deaf ears To those who know how to live their lives. Everyday. Everyway. It's not easy. I recognize the mantle On my children's faces; See them counting milestones, Running theirs through the paces. How do I tell them *Count every day, and not count every day; But make every day count*?
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Jul 21, 2021
Jul 21, 2021 at 8:48 AM UTC
Every Day Counts
*Elemental Metamorphosis & Transcendental Milestones, Sempiternal Origamis Of Her Temperamental Clones, Spiraling Perpetuities & Her Sacrosanct Fortitude, Procreating Tipsy Ruptures In Her Permeating Solitude, Perplexed Momentum & Her Outlandish Constellations, Nuclear Decay Of Her Masked Radiations, Verbal Shadows & Her Tranquil Ascendance, Encasing Her Tears In Liquefied Transcendence, Yearning Oddities & Entropic Oceans, Vitalizing Inexorable Emotions Into Phosphorescent Potions, An Hourglass Existence Of Her Fabricated Virility, Dwelling In Quantum Ascents Of Ardent Agility, Silver Ghosts Of Her Prismatic Abyss, Convicting Glass Houses In Her Ecstatic Bliss, Telepathic Shades & Hollow Palisades, Detrimental Novelists On Uncharted Crusades, Pernicious Scars In Her Profound Gaze, Erupting Genesis Inside Her Dimensional Maze, Perplexed Periphery & Digital Fictions, Annexed By Her Hourglass Depictions, Breakdown Sanity & Her Concealed Screams, Lifelike Dewdrops In Her Visionary Dreams, Satellite Searchlights & Love//Less Progenic Mutation, Paralyzed Sunlight Sparking Genetic Alteration, Monochromatic Streams & Cinematic Realms, Static Screams Of Her Toxic Schemes. - 05:43 AM -*
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Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 11:18 PM UTC
Elemental Metamorphosis & Transcendental Milestones
Semantic satiation is when you repeat a word or phrase so much that it loses all sense of meaning Grim Milestone sounds like the protagonist of a paperback thriller series by Patterson or one of his ghosts Grim Milestone sounds like the title of a Goosebumps book about a killer street Grim Milestone sounds like a gloomy rock on a lonely corner whose only purpose in life is to tell people they’re on the wrong path. Grim Milestone Grim Milestone Grim Milestone Grim Milestone Grim Milestone Grim Milestone I keep thinking that maybe, if I say enough my heart will ache less at the words when we pass the next one
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Mar 23, 2021
Mar 23, 2021 at 3:46 PM UTC
Grim Milestones
Dreams are all I have But none are accomplished So they stay dreams But soon they'll become more They'll become achievements, milestones, moments of happiness And a thousand more things That mark the beginning of me and the end of my past ~ B.H
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Nov 21, 2015
Nov 21, 2015 at 10:12 PM UTC
Dreams
Holding the compass of uncertainties, Carrying the baggage of memories, The drifter is drifting along with the tides… Without boundaries or borders, Floating with the moment, The drifter is weaving timeless dreams… Playing with the shadow and light, Swinging with the hands of time, Unbound in the truth of freedom, The drifter is living in the moment… The journey of love and joy, Build in every pause life takes, Never holding back the voyage, The drifter survives in the passion… Miles and milestones left behind, The strides always ahead of the past, Moving forward in the distance, The drifter fades between the lines of present and future… Jayakumar K
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Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 12:56 PM UTC
The Drifter
#***Blackwater rise up from artesian fountains Upsurge from the provenance of earthen soul Mingle unto a river of willow’s bend and sway Rooted in boulders***                                                           *scattered  within                                  milestones                                                   and*                                                                 ***riverbed Cornerstones                                                                                           Gray As though empowering sown seeds mightily strewn With intent a higher law's freshet flows For to stream from silence in a satiating tongue Rolling currents thickly bestow A  river  of  simple  truth lay  bare A stream of random kindness betides, Rivulets of unconditional love abounding    Rootstock birthplace coursing passage from whence Unbounded rivers' silent reverie manifests Rippling cadence immersing pulsing whispers Unbounded rivers rushing deep and wide Blossoming undercurrents gushing, resounding, rhythmic  ebb  and  flow Verve undulating wholly alive Genesis of soul marrow's enlightened shine ― Wellsprings arise from bedrock ancient mother earth A surmounting light leavens abidingly From imploring water's flowing river song To illuminate the beckoning pathway's bearings divergent from thither and yon                  Through  which  to  portage A way to carry back home in psalm*** h.a. rivers ... November 4th, 2017
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Nov 9, 2017
Nov 9, 2017 at 7:59 PM UTC
Blackwater River
#***Blackwater rise up from artesian fountains Upsurge from the provenance of earthen soul Mingle unto a river of willow’s bend and sway Rooted in boulders***                                                           *scattered  within                                  milestones                                                   and*                                                                 ***riverbed Cornerstones                                                                                           Gray As though empowering sown seeds mightily strewn With intent a higher law's freshet flows For to stream from silence in a satiating tongue Rolling currents thickly bestow A  river  of  simple  truth lay  bare A stream of random kindness betides, Rivulets of unconditional love abounding    Rootstock birthplace coursing passage from whence Unbounded rivers' silent reverie manifests Rippling cadence immersing pulsing whispers Unbounded rivers rushing deep and wide Blossoming undercurrents gushing, resounding, rhythmic  ebb  and  flow Verve undulating wholly alive Genesis of soul marrow's enlightened shine ― Wellsprings arise from bedrock ancient mother earth A surmounting light leavens abidingly From imploring water's flowing river song To illuminate the beckoning pathway's bearings divergent from thither and yon                  Through  which  to  portage A way to carry back home in psalm*** h.a. rivers ... November 4th, 2017
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Accomplishment Milestones Completion...of a step What does it mean to be done Is there such a thing? Sometimes the moment of doneness passes by                  Invisible Revealed only in hindsight Savor the moments Of completion Accomplishment Being done Even if only of this step The best laid plans can always go awry So celebrate along the way Celebrate the effort The intention The support you receive Doneness as you expected may never come to pass If it does You will more concretely see                                                     all the steps it took to get there Either way We all benefit From celebrating milestones All the steps along the way Whether that means dreaming an idea Or completing a voyage Across a sea Intact
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Sep 1, 2021
Sep 1, 2021 at 8:24 PM UTC
Steps along the way
Milestones Toward Oblivion by Michael R. Burch A milestone here leans heavily against a gaunt, golemic tree. These words are chiseled thereupon: "One mile and then Oblivion." Swift larks that once swooped down to feed on groping slugs, such insects breed within their radiant flesh and bones ... they did not heed the milestones. Another marker lies ahead, the only tombstone to the dead whose eyeless sockets read thereon: "Alas, behold Oblivion." Once here the sun shone fierce and fair; now night eternal shrouds the air while winter, never-ending, moans and drifts among the milestones. This road is neither long nor wide . . . men gleam in death on either side. Not long ago, they pondered on milestones toward Oblivion. Keywords/Tags: oblivion, milestones, markers, tombstones, radiation, fallout, nukes, winter, path, destruction, Armageddon, Apocalypse, nuclear, a-bomb, atomic bomb, hydrogen bomb, Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Bikini Atoll, Manhattan Project, Trump, planet, earth, war, violence, America, environment, holocaust
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Apr 8, 2020
Apr 8, 2020 at 2:40 AM UTC
Milestones Toward Oblivion
I remember the jaw dropping moment of you walking into creative writing for the first time. I remember passing notes daily I remember the first time we went downtown with our drunkard friend. I remember sitting in the cold in front of the pond and listening to you ramble. I remember how happy I was. I remember how hard I tried to impress you. I remember it all like it was yesterday. I remember you going missing from class. I still remember the stomach churning worry that came with it. I remember you coming back just to leave again I remember the years we didn't talk. They were lonely. I remember seeing you go the first time in forever. I remember sitting in that swing and holding back tears as I confided in you about how sad I was. I remember the absence of you again. I remember sitting at the bus stop talking to you before I had to work. I remember the night you had a small get together and invited me. I remember how hard I smiled for the first time in years. I remember coming over and spending the night with you. I remember the ****** tension. I remember laying in bed and inching closer. I remember how cold your lips were when I kissed you for the first time. I remember rolling around in bed naked and taking candid pictures of one another. I remember being officially unofficial. I remember walking to and fro my house to yours. I remember you playing guitar. I remember vaping until we were dizzy. I remember you getting the text from your ex I remember losing you to your ex I remember the devastation. I remember still seeing you daily. I remember how awkward it was. I remember you telling me you wanted to be with me. I remember then running to meet you half way. I remember hugging you as if to pull you into my body. I remember him losing his spot by your side. I remember fighting. I remember hating it. I remember still seeing you and talking things out. I remember kissing late into the night. God I remember so much. I remember going downtown with Dessi. I remember realizing how deeply I love you. I remember the pain of missing a night by your side, it's like a bruise on the bottom of my foot. I remember all the days I spent keeping you company at work. I remember getting pulled over with you in the car. I remember the look of dread. I remember with no regrets. I remember your smell from 4500 miles away. I will remember and cherish every second we spend at one another's side. And with all these memories behind us in such short time I know that when I turn my head back to watch my steps I'll see all we have to look foreword to.
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Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 12:00 AM UTC
Milestones
I remember the jaw dropping moment of you walking into creative writing for the first time. I remember passing notes daily I remember the first time we went downtown with our drunkard friend. I remember sitting in the cold in front of the pond and listening to you ramble. I remember how happy I was. I remember how hard I tried to impress you. I remember it all like it was yesterday. I remember you going missing from class. I still remember the stomach churning worry that came with it. I remember you coming back just to leave again I remember the years we didn't talk. They were lonely. I remember seeing you go the first time in forever. I remember sitting in that swing and holding back tears as I confided in you about how sad I was. I remember the absence of you again. I remember sitting at the bus stop talking to you before I had to work. I remember the night you had a small get together and invited me. I remember how hard I smiled for the first time in years. I remember coming over and spending the night with you. I remember the ****** tension. I remember laying in bed and inching closer. I remember how cold your lips were when I kissed you for the first time. I remember rolling around in bed naked and taking candid pictures of one another. I remember being officially unofficial. I remember walking to and fro my house to yours. I remember you playing guitar. I remember vaping until we were dizzy. I remember you getting the text from your ex I remember losing you to your ex I remember the devastation. I remember still seeing you daily. I remember how awkward it was. I remember you telling me you wanted to be with me. I remember then running to meet you half way. I remember hugging you as if to pull you into my body. I remember him losing his spot by your side. I remember fighting. I remember hating it. I remember still seeing you and talking things out. I remember kissing late into the night. God I remember so much. I remember going downtown with Dessi. I remember realizing how deeply I love you. I remember the pain of missing a night by your side, it's like a bruise on the bottom of my foot. I remember all the days I spent keeping you company at work. I remember getting pulled over with you in the car. I remember the look of dread. I remember with no regrets. I remember your smell from 4500 miles away. I will remember and cherish every second we spend at one another's side. And with all these memories behind us in such short time I know that when I turn my head back to watch my steps I'll see all we have to look foreword to.
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We are just visitors For a brief time Travelling through a few milestones Our time is finite Our interactions are finite So, why have an ego Which is also finite? Let us be friends with the world With the people, plants Trees and climbers With the butterflies And the beasts as well Since our journey is finite Make Life as easy as possible And make it merry as well.. Leave a few sweet memories For those who come after us.
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Sep 28, 2017
Sep 28, 2017 at 1:11 AM UTC
We are just visitors
My friends without shields walk on the target It is late the windows are breaking My friends without shoes leave What they love Grief moves among them as a fire among Its bells My friends without clocks turn On the dial they turn They part My friends with names like gloves set out Bare handed as they have lived And nobody knows them It is they that lay the wreaths at the milestones it is their Cups that are found at the wells And are then chained up My friends without feet sit by the wall Nodding to the lame orchestra Brotherhood it says on the decorations My friend without eyes sits in the rain smiling With a nest of salt in his hand My friends without fathers or houses hear Doors opening in the darkness Whose halls announce Behold the smoke has come home My friends and I have in common The present a wax bell in a wax belfry This message telling of Metals this Hunger for the sake of hunger this owl in the heart And these hands one For asking one for applause My friends with nothing leave it behind In a box My friends without keys go out from the jails it is night They take the same road they miss Each other they invent the same banner in the dark They ask their way only of sentries too proud to breathe At dawn the stars on their flag will vanish The water will turn up their footprints and the day will rise Like a monument to my Friends the forgotten
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2.2k
My Friends
What drives a man to achieve his goals? Motivation of course! The enthusiastic mindset that if you work hard, you'll achieve. The unhindered perspective that compels you to think about the end goal and ignore the hardships that attempt to impede your progress towards greatness. The idea that putting your best foot forward will gain the admiration of a metaphorical Hermes who will then grant you his winged sandals to propel you above the rest of your peers and out of your unsatisfactory situation. What drives a man to succeed in his ventures? Motivation of course! A burst of energy that says "I can do it if I believe I can." despite limitations on your strength or your intelligence or your character. An aura that surrounds you and invigorates your humors, enticing your senses as well as giving you a mask that hides your unsure demeanor. It's a revelation, that motivation, which enlightens the soul and frees the body from the chains that marked the end of it's abilities. What drives a man to accomplish milestones for himself? Perhaps it manifests itself in something other than motivation. It could be the desire to find acceptance, to be wanted, to get that simple thumbs up that sends a message that needs not be spoken. "You did well." Possibly it would be the wish, the simple wish that a man will have done something worth remembering in the brief existence that he has, something he can look back on and think to himself, "I didn't do half-bad on that, did I?" Teetering on the self-existential reflecting concepts, it could just be that man wishes to find fulfillment by filling his daily activities with anything. And that the greater the activity, the laborious hours put into completion, here man finds solace in putting meaning into his day to day living. Thus we find that goals are merely tick marks, road signs on the long drive from life's start to inevitable death. This, this is all motivation. Anything that places reins over a man's mind and hits the spur against his brain, in hopes that this will help him move forward and do what he believes is necessary to do. Motivation is to place one's self in this self-deprecating position as to be a slave to ambition in order to be satisfied with one's life. And to think that motivation is a blessing that leads to self-improvement. Motivation is truly the mind's greatest illusion.
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Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 10:11 PM UTC
Motivation!
What drives a man to achieve his goals? Motivation of course! The enthusiastic mindset that if you work hard, you'll achieve. The unhindered perspective that compels you to think about the end goal and ignore the hardships that attempt to impede your progress towards greatness. The idea that putting your best foot forward will gain the admiration of a metaphorical Hermes who will then grant you his winged sandals to propel you above the rest of your peers and out of your unsatisfactory situation. What drives a man to succeed in his ventures? Motivation of course! A burst of energy that says "I can do it if I believe I can." despite limitations on your strength or your intelligence or your character. An aura that surrounds you and invigorates your humors, enticing your senses as well as giving you a mask that hides your unsure demeanor. It's a revelation, that motivation, which enlightens the soul and frees the body from the chains that marked the end of it's abilities. What drives a man to accomplish milestones for himself? Perhaps it manifests itself in something other than motivation. It could be the desire to find acceptance, to be wanted, to get that simple thumbs up that sends a message that needs not be spoken. "You did well." Possibly it would be the wish, the simple wish that a man will have done something worth remembering in the brief existence that he has, something he can look back on and think to himself, "I didn't do half-bad on that, did I?" Teetering on the self-existential reflecting concepts, it could just be that man wishes to find fulfillment by filling his daily activities with anything. And that the greater the activity, the laborious hours put into completion, here man finds solace in putting meaning into his day to day living. Thus we find that goals are merely tick marks, road signs on the long drive from life's start to inevitable death. This, this is all motivation. Anything that places reins over a man's mind and hits the spur against his brain, in hopes that this will help him move forward and do what he believes is necessary to do. Motivation is to place one's self in this self-deprecating position as to be a slave to ambition in order to be satisfied with one's life. And to think that motivation is a blessing that leads to self-improvement. Motivation is truly the mind's greatest illusion.
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I'm going on a date with a man I met online. We've agreed to short term, ending with some *** Promises of milestones, talking of consent, with one purpose: virginity to lose. The timing we will choose to do the big event. We will work out the hormones and in the very end, be another ex. This truth we both hold firm. We hope the last night will be divine as we end up being just a playmate.
0
Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 9:29 PM UTC
Just ***
Humanity is simplistic contrary to the complex, misunderstood, myriad of separately analyzed individuals that psychologists, artists, poets, and scientists paint it to be. Each person is labeled with a different disorder founded by their apparently personal past tragedies and harbors the wholehearted, mistaken, belief that they are alone in their “tragedy” which is indeed not tragedy but a side effect to the human condition, and arguably, to the optimist,  one of life’s sacred milestones. Humanity likes to romanticize these milestones. They dress up their societal deemed shameful past with cashmere sweaters, line their lips with the grief of loss, and sweep their eyes with trust issue mascara all in an effort to pronounce themselves worthy and prove themselves beautiful despite their “unique” past events and tragic flaws. But they are not unique. When you peel off the pearls, when you delete the username, when you strip away the added flair to each sad story, humanity is all the same. They all front loss of some sort, they’ve all battled insecurity, they’ve all woken up one day perhaps wishing they hadn’t woken up at all. They’ve all laughed, cried, chased after the fleeting ideal of love, and questioned its palpability. They’ve each found themselves in a situation that made them ponder their ability to ever trust again, if they could ever love again, if they could ever be the same again; but what they don’t realize is that they are all the same. Rough the personal and each person is the same, just with a different name. Step back and behold, these seemingly individual fallacies of the human condition all spin together to weave a simplistically complex web.
0
Jan 25, 2019
Jan 25, 2019 at 9:49 PM UTC
The Simplicity of Humanity
Humanity is simplistic contrary to the complex, misunderstood, myriad of separately analyzed individuals that psychologists, artists, poets, and scientists paint it to be. Each person is labeled with a different disorder founded by their apparently personal past tragedies and harbors the wholehearted, mistaken, belief that they are alone in their “tragedy” which is indeed not tragedy but a side effect to the human condition, and arguably, to the optimist,  one of life’s sacred milestones. Humanity likes to romanticize these milestones. They dress up their societal deemed shameful past with cashmere sweaters, line their lips with the grief of loss, and sweep their eyes with trust issue mascara all in an effort to pronounce themselves worthy and prove themselves beautiful despite their “unique” past events and tragic flaws. But they are not unique. When you peel off the pearls, when you delete the username, when you strip away the added flair to each sad story, humanity is all the same. They all front loss of some sort, they’ve all battled insecurity, they’ve all woken up one day perhaps wishing they hadn’t woken up at all. They’ve all laughed, cried, chased after the fleeting ideal of love, and questioned its palpability. They’ve each found themselves in a situation that made them ponder their ability to ever trust again, if they could ever love again, if they could ever be the same again; but what they don’t realize is that they are all the same. Rough the personal and each person is the same, just with a different name. Step back and behold, these seemingly individual fallacies of the human condition all spin together to weave a simplistically complex web.
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1