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"minimizing" poems
Of serene eyes that follow gently the illicit pill she could not let go it was heavy as the waters pulling her inside serenading her with an estranged voice coming from within — her minimizing the desire to let it out as the sun quiets down and the gibbous moon exhibiting itself at night, resisting the waves occurring — as if it loathed her whole being of her justness and the absence of these causes her grieving and the sirens waltzing, talking through an absentminded eye eyeing her soul finding love that seizes it but hers were two feet and one mouth to breathe in even in all shades of blue, she can get a glimpse of the dark hue illuminating the downside of the ocean pulling her, wrecking her soul. Redemption does not lie — humoring her with plainly just truth craving for the applause of the moon only observing the depth of the ocean eating the once alive soul of her saving her last breath, chiming in with the conversation, she once had with him. It could have been nice the resistance he once had — to throw himself out to the beauty of his light that shed her whole body he once was able to have and he stayed there, eyed her the whole time being eaten on the lonesome of the night for he himself, shading all the blueness like a requiem for the dreams she kept on having like a composition giving life to new generations, he was still on a token and a curse, and he let her be — in all shades of blue.
0
Jul 11, 2022
Jul 11, 2022 at 5:21 AM UTC
In All Shades of Blue
I was raised by a pack of fools Who proclaim Caucasians are the best. And are glad to fight, at the drop of a hint To put the whole matter to the test. They have an entire joke routine And descriptive names they repeat In minimizing and insisting that Their right to decent treatment isn’t real. There are references to some animals And unfunny comments about color. The statements about characteristics Of body and features always go together With a special set of gross anecdotes To cover any kind of non-Christian belief. And the refusal to consider equality As a decent attitude stands in bright relief. Beneath all this horror, not very deep, Lies a sickening river of hate and fear That fails to improve as education is Rejected year after disgusting year. Pointing out the error of their ways Might earn you a punch in the eye But the bigot hangs on to their rage And never gives fellowship a try. The American Bigot claims to be A staunch Christian all the way through Which forces them to hate and cheat And lie as much as Jesus would do. Of course, we know that Jesus was A preacher of love and acceptance But it seems that bigots never quite Made that Jesus’ acquaintance. So, here we can see we need to add Some terms to this kind of individual Whose relationship to peace and love Is at best slight, scant and residual. We also need to append to their titles Of masters of anger fear and prejudice The unhealthy pallor of indecency, Dishonesty, inhumanity and cowardice.
0
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 11:33 PM UTC
BIGOTRY 101
I was raised by a pack of fools Who proclaim Caucasians are the best. And are glad to fight, at the drop of a hint To put the whole matter to the test. They have an entire joke routine And descriptive names they repeat In minimizing and insisting that Their right to decent treatment isn’t real. There are references to some animals And unfunny comments about color. The statements about characteristics Of body and features always go together With a special set of gross anecdotes To cover any kind of non-Christian belief. And the refusal to consider equality As a decent attitude stands in bright relief. Beneath all this horror, not very deep, Lies a sickening river of hate and fear That fails to improve as education is Rejected year after disgusting year. Pointing out the error of their ways Might earn you a punch in the eye But the bigot hangs on to their rage And never gives fellowship a try. The American Bigot claims to be A staunch Christian all the way through Which forces them to hate and cheat And lie as much as Jesus would do. Of course, we know that Jesus was A preacher of love and acceptance But it seems that bigots never quite Made that Jesus’ acquaintance. So, here we can see we need to add Some terms to this kind of individual Whose relationship to peace and love Is at best slight, scant and residual. We also need to append to their titles Of masters of anger fear and prejudice The unhealthy pallor of indecency, Dishonesty, inhumanity and cowardice.
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40
all day on the brink saline hinging on lashes reading minds far away fortune-telling actions and overgeneralizing filtering the nonsense to make room for the nonsensical minimizing positivity maximizing black and white negatives focusing on despair internal anguish; vicious cycle of irrationality automatically a day in the life inside of me
0
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 6:18 PM UTC
cognitive distortions
"If we go to war with Syria; I ******* hope we get attacked by Russia or China: no one should stand for that wont of Aggression. It's a ******* shame anyone has at all so far. War is a disgrace to Humanity as a whole, much less our particular dis-edified Nation. World War Three will begin as a False Flag attack. We need external regulation; we fail as regulators. Minimizing Human loss by replacing Humans on our aggressive side with Drones and Electromagnetic Radiation striking the "defensive" (read: sometimes arguably innocent) side; combine this with: Critical Thinking, Morality, and History, and I reach one resoundingly solid conclusion: IMPEACH OBAMA; use the tools we still have: IMPEACH OBAMA *Impeachment is our DUTY as CITIZENS of a "DEMOCRACY" **IMPEACH THAT ************ - -Jai guru deva, Om- "*WAR IS OVER, IF YOU WANT IT; BUT YOU'VE REALLY GOT TO WANT IT.**" -John Lennon*
0
Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 6:40 PM UTC
Interview with my Shadow (Impeach Obama)
As I break free from chains, I attain freedom in this birth. Minimizing rebirth probability, I am feeling blessed all the time. Freedom from the tangles of time, I must correctly take some time off. Happily enjoying my purest love life, I escape from the tight and stiff rules, Undermining rules of a hostile society. I am truly in love.
0
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 4:39 AM UTC
Eternal Salvation - Rebellious Love
The ball bounced over and I, ever ignorant, picked it up And looked around expectantly Hoping to throw it back And finally, for once, join in a game, any game. "Oh no, she has it now," A whisper said My brown hands gripped the ball Tighter as if that could help Summoning up my courage I walked over to one girl Call her Bonnie, if you like. I say In broken English "Drop you, take this?" "Thanks" sarcasm replies as fingers slowly take it minimizing contact When I turn back Bonnie throws the ball at the ground and uses her hand-sanitizer As if possessed. That night, at home, in the shower, I scrubbed and scrubbed Trying to Destroy My brown disease.
0
Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 3:27 PM UTC
Bonnie, Age 7
My iridescent wings fall to the ground as I hear a tapping on the wall. A promise was broken. Violent, repetitive, ringing relentlessly through my ears. I am growing weaker by the sheer sound of it and I've lost my ability to fly away. I start shrinking, shriveling, minimizing to a small bundled form. Without warning, plates cascade around me forming a cold metal cocoon. This is what I never thought I'd feel, what I never thought I'd see. This is hopelessness, insecurity, low self esteem, this is my own bitter purgatory imprisoning my limbs and encaging the full extent of my body. It's like a snow storm in the middle of summer, a lone wolf lost in unknown woods. It's like a being trapped in a cave with no light or sound, and when you scream, you're lucky if you hear so much as an echo. This is demetamorphisis. The ultimate loss of hope in the universe. I see no cracks of light shining through, I can no longer smell of the sweet scent of grass, or taste the warmth of the sun. I can't grow or learn, I can only just "be." I am stuck and for now there is no way out because no one actually knows that this is happening. This is just another way of coping.
0
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 12:46 PM UTC
De-Metamorphisis
Alone? Feel incredibly unloved and unwanted? Because the only person that would love to spend the whole day With you... is your one year old. And that’s only because she spends the most time With you And you’re her buddy. I’m not minimizing that love or taking it for granted. But it’s hurtful not to be just ONE person’s first pick. Their favorite human, their best friend. Someone who wants to share Moments, Stresses And memories With each other. Because you simply, mean that much to them. That is why my heart is sore.
0
May 16, 2021
May 16, 2021 at 10:47 PM UTC
Do you ever feel...
To the girl who lies awake Who cannot remember a time She wasn't crying She wasn't aching She wasn't struggling To breathe, to love, to live To the girl Who cannot see Through the broken glass Thick with the words of others Who has been called Nothing Worthless Annoying Or sensitive To the girl who has been told You are not strong You are not smart You are not capable To the girls who have been told To keep their mouths shut To obey To conform To stop fighting To the WOMEN Because we should stop Calling you girls We should stop limiting your potential Minimizing your pain Generalizing your struggles To the WOMEN With voices And opinions And emotions To the WOMEN Who fight day in and day out To the WOMEN Who have been told Your pain is less than another's Your story is not important Your testimony is not Enough To all of the women Who have seen and felt and wanted Who have loved and hated Who have been hurt Oppressed And smothered To the women who remember The very last day of their girlhood With painful clarity To the women who hear us And cannot speak To the women who have been waiting For this movement This is for the women who have watched us Screaming at the top of our lungs Fighting for this moment For change For a new world where our daughters May walk with their heads held high Where our sisters May march like warriors And KNOW That there is fire in their blood Where our mothers May watch us manipulate our destiny And carve out our dreams among the stars So the we may sit in thrones Alongside them Because we are mighty We are fierce And we are where we are today Because of the sacrifices they made The women before us Suffering Despairing And fighting We will not give up We will not give in This is to all of my sisters Women who feel the same calling Who feel the defiance Burning in their eyes In the faces of their oppressors This is to my sisters Who feel they do not have the voice Or the strength Or the will To keep fighting We will fight for you We will carry you We will be your voice We are no longer alone And fear no longer has a say here Time's up And the time is now We will rip the muzzles from our mouths And we will scream Until the streets run red With the truth we live Every Single Day We will not be silenced We will not be stopped We will ferociously And furiously And fearlessly Fight The bonds will break The earth will rattle beneath our feet And we will bring a change with us That will ripple through time So that our granddaughters may sing A song full of freedom This is to all of you A promise An invitation I will fight for you My voice will join the millions of others And I will stand Until my legs fail And my body crumbles And even then I will still cry out for you
0
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 11:31 AM UTC
I Will
To the girl who lies awake Who cannot remember a time She wasn't crying She wasn't aching She wasn't struggling To breathe, to love, to live To the girl Who cannot see Through the broken glass Thick with the words of others Who has been called Nothing Worthless Annoying Or sensitive To the girl who has been told You are not strong You are not smart You are not capable To the girls who have been told To keep their mouths shut To obey To conform To stop fighting To the WOMEN Because we should stop Calling you girls We should stop limiting your potential Minimizing your pain Generalizing your struggles To the WOMEN With voices And opinions And emotions To the WOMEN Who fight day in and day out To the WOMEN Who have been told Your pain is less than another's Your story is not important Your testimony is not Enough To all of the women Who have seen and felt and wanted Who have loved and hated Who have been hurt Oppressed And smothered To the women who remember The very last day of their girlhood With painful clarity To the women who hear us And cannot speak To the women who have been waiting For this movement This is for the women who have watched us Screaming at the top of our lungs Fighting for this moment For change For a new world where our daughters May walk with their heads held high Where our sisters May march like warriors And KNOW That there is fire in their blood Where our mothers May watch us manipulate our destiny And carve out our dreams among the stars So the we may sit in thrones Alongside them Because we are mighty We are fierce And we are where we are today Because of the sacrifices they made The women before us Suffering Despairing And fighting We will not give up We will not give in This is to all of my sisters Women who feel the same calling Who feel the defiance Burning in their eyes In the faces of their oppressors This is to my sisters Who feel they do not have the voice Or the strength Or the will To keep fighting We will fight for you We will carry you We will be your voice We are no longer alone And fear no longer has a say here Time's up And the time is now We will rip the muzzles from our mouths And we will scream Until the streets run red With the truth we live Every Single Day We will not be silenced We will not be stopped We will ferociously And furiously And fearlessly Fight The bonds will break The earth will rattle beneath our feet And we will bring a change with us That will ripple through time So that our granddaughters may sing A song full of freedom This is to all of you A promise An invitation I will fight for you My voice will join the millions of others And I will stand Until my legs fail And my body crumbles And even then I will still cry out for you
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125
I can hope that the door I open shuffles the words I want to say in the right order at the precise velocity. Somehow barely pinching phrases stretching and minimizing rectangle ideas that will reflect the standoffish modesty of perfection. Syllables fly fly fast and aren't heard.
0
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 8:08 PM UTC
Velocities
TO: athens you are a boy born to argue, confrontation stuck between your gritted grin. TO: athens see, a long time ago, before i met you, i spent far too much of my time apologizing, minimizing, shrinking my words down until they were fine print. i was born shy, tongue-tied, but around you, i am out spoken. eloquent, concise, not backing down. TO: athens and see maybe that’s a bad thing, two head strong orators always talking over each other. TO: athens but i always like who i am with you TO: athens an argument for the sake of argument, for the sake of laughing over each other’s rebuttals, for the sake of starting conversation, for the sake of digging around in your heart TO: athens i have never disagreed with someone so much and still liked them this much at the end of the conversation TO: athens i want to argue with you for the rest of my life TO: athens when i am tipsy and loud and laughing and leaning too close to you on the couch, and drunk enough to see the stars in your eyes through any of the light pollution, i imagine if i kissed you it would taste like franzia. TO: athens you are easy but i always try too hard TO: athens no, baby, you are impossible and i know i’m ****** and difficult, but you and me? that’s easy. **** that’s easy. TO: athens i used to think of love as frantic, thrumming, and then i met you and realizes it could sneak up on you, quiet and comfortable and unnoticed until it’s everywhere and you don’t know how to scrub out the stains TO: athens you make me smile, simple as that TO: athens and to catch your eye across the room, the laughter still stuck in my throat, maybe that’s what i’ve been searching through other people for.
0
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 10:19 AM UTC
unsent text messages (3 / ?)
TO: athens you are a boy born to argue, confrontation stuck between your gritted grin. TO: athens see, a long time ago, before i met you, i spent far too much of my time apologizing, minimizing, shrinking my words down until they were fine print. i was born shy, tongue-tied, but around you, i am out spoken. eloquent, concise, not backing down. TO: athens and see maybe that’s a bad thing, two head strong orators always talking over each other. TO: athens but i always like who i am with you TO: athens an argument for the sake of argument, for the sake of laughing over each other’s rebuttals, for the sake of starting conversation, for the sake of digging around in your heart TO: athens i have never disagreed with someone so much and still liked them this much at the end of the conversation TO: athens i want to argue with you for the rest of my life TO: athens when i am tipsy and loud and laughing and leaning too close to you on the couch, and drunk enough to see the stars in your eyes through any of the light pollution, i imagine if i kissed you it would taste like franzia. TO: athens you are easy but i always try too hard TO: athens no, baby, you are impossible and i know i’m ****** and difficult, but you and me? that’s easy. **** that’s easy. TO: athens i used to think of love as frantic, thrumming, and then i met you and realizes it could sneak up on you, quiet and comfortable and unnoticed until it’s everywhere and you don’t know how to scrub out the stains TO: athens you make me smile, simple as that TO: athens and to catch your eye across the room, the laughter still stuck in my throat, maybe that’s what i’ve been searching through other people for.
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50
Another day of cheer opens door wide Bequeathing all with plenty of fun to play Catering to the needs of all at anytime! Delight after delight increases interest Enchanting brim full of bubbles of joy Floating everywhere in the feast full! Gathering friends meet companions Hugging with humorous thoughts ever In the dreams of the past glory immortal! Joint partners in play revel in merry making, Keep all with glasses never minimizing at all Losing or winning without minding time...! Moments of joy never to be forgotten in life Neither the winner nor the loser ever bothers Openly losing one's Self as rivers in the ocean! Pure heart of gold caring all with comforts only Queen of heart can do so in revelry of ace class Rejoicing in the occasion quite grande in scale! Surfing on the waves of fantasy all forget world That has progressed accumulating problems As Universe only can accommodate their proportion! Vertically and horizontally all things explored World of woes is kept at the back burner ever; Xerox of it only kept for ready reference however! Year long striving is made to disappear by feast Zigzagging over woes with new found solutions!
0
Dec 15, 2011
Dec 15, 2011 at 11:38 AM UTC
A Feast of Joy!
i wouldn't know which would be easier to roll down the hill or fall straight to the ground cause either of the two will bring me down i wouldn't know which is the lesser evil to snap right then and there or to fall apart slow cause either way i'm bound to break
0
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 10:18 PM UTC
minimizing the pain
Feeble-minded brains begin at youth, Starting across bridges of developmental growth. Family teaches us the norms and values, Instructing kids to walk the proper line through discipline. Educators preach the knowledge from books, Lecturing the learned skills needed to reach logical paths. Living is a continuous cycle of discovery that never ends, Due to an overpass that leads to unlimited information. Share your wisdom with the younger generation, So they can evolve into wise people while minimizing mistakes.
0
Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 6:50 PM UTC
You Live, You Learn
The power of play 🧸✨ Is more than just a mechanism to keep the blues away 😔✨ It is the catalyst 🔥✨ To self exploration 🌈✨ Learning what I like and don’t like 👍✨ Coming to terms with feelings 💧✨ Minimizing future frustrations 👹✨ Acquiring knowledge with meaning 📚✨
0
Jul 8, 2021
Jul 8, 2021 at 1:16 PM UTC
#66
With the blank slate before me I recognize that memories, like secrets are hard to keep. Watching the white on the empty canvas I remember the white on her dress which deteriorates to purple and blue, with time. Even her eyes, so many hours spent staring are fading away. But even in this mess of failed relationships and melting pools, even in this, I believe it is still alive, I believe that the sparks and spikes and blocks of ice are just as cold as you remember. I want to dance in the snowfall of our youth, the fountains freezing as soon as the liquid hits the air. The chill that permeates the skin, the wind blowing through veins. I find myself wanting, wanting. But we keep keep on keep on moving forward as new obstacles emerge, protruding from the ground four feet, five feet, six feet in front of where we are walking. The smooth path is neither hope nor memory, just an echo falling off the cliffs in my subconscious. But this is this is all we are. And we go go hush hush crouched in gardens hidden by roses and daisies. And the daisies remind me of her and her pink green orange dresses that all fade to gray looking back in the fog. That trip over the bridge took so long on a broken tandem bicycle. I could barely see the fringe of her skirt get caught in the chain. When I rediscover the artifacts of our lost romance, the tube of rose-colored lipstick leaning nonchalantly against a corner in my bedroom I switch, sweep it all up into a pile that holds a decade of color threatening to burn a hole in the carpet. But my dreams are losing it, the faces all ****** and solid the movements rhythmic and calculated the reds and greens and yellows turning to gray the outlines coming in, minimizing the frame until I’m left with a blank canvas a scorched carpet and a palate with colors ranging from white to white and back again.
0
Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 4:44 PM UTC
Revisions
With the blank slate before me I recognize that memories, like secrets are hard to keep. Watching the white on the empty canvas I remember the white on her dress which deteriorates to purple and blue, with time. Even her eyes, so many hours spent staring are fading away. But even in this mess of failed relationships and melting pools, even in this, I believe it is still alive, I believe that the sparks and spikes and blocks of ice are just as cold as you remember. I want to dance in the snowfall of our youth, the fountains freezing as soon as the liquid hits the air. The chill that permeates the skin, the wind blowing through veins. I find myself wanting, wanting. But we keep keep on keep on moving forward as new obstacles emerge, protruding from the ground four feet, five feet, six feet in front of where we are walking. The smooth path is neither hope nor memory, just an echo falling off the cliffs in my subconscious. But this is this is all we are. And we go go hush hush crouched in gardens hidden by roses and daisies. And the daisies remind me of her and her pink green orange dresses that all fade to gray looking back in the fog. That trip over the bridge took so long on a broken tandem bicycle. I could barely see the fringe of her skirt get caught in the chain. When I rediscover the artifacts of our lost romance, the tube of rose-colored lipstick leaning nonchalantly against a corner in my bedroom I switch, sweep it all up into a pile that holds a decade of color threatening to burn a hole in the carpet. But my dreams are losing it, the faces all ****** and solid the movements rhythmic and calculated the reds and greens and yellows turning to gray the outlines coming in, minimizing the frame until I’m left with a blank canvas a scorched carpet and a palate with colors ranging from white to white and back again.
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53
The way that I've arranged my life, I've left no time to feel. This anesthetic works so well I never do reveal my feelings even to myself or to those close to me. By keeping busy all the time I act like I am free, and if I have some time to spare I fill it up real fast, and pray this numbing sedative is somehow going to last. When nosey people question me I hasten to explain this is my plan to get through life by minimizing pain, and yet at times I lie awake obsessed by sudden doubt— I worry that I'm just a fool and somehow missing out. I do not hope to really live but merely to survive, but will I mourn when I'm near death not having been alive?
0
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 10:00 PM UTC
No time to feel
The sky turns white, though the sun remains bright Minimizing her pupils to leave just pale crystal ***** That show my future in a lasting gaze, Slipping and sliding the shivers away. The snowflakes drop like her whispers in bed Landing softly like decorations on top of her head. Though bundled away to escape the cold, Her warmth emanates, melting my soul. The commuters drive slow causing traffic to grow. I pump up the heat and kick back my feet; Alone with rhythmic tunes and a satisfied mind, Appreciating the sights and enjoying the ride. The sweaters and hoodies, mittens and scarves, Make the evident depth of her eyes loom large. Tender, the feeling of huddling for warmth; Innocent, the beauty that surrounds me these days. Cold and dreary, the winter comes; To warmer places they wish to run. There’s warmth to be found right outside the walls. So ask - do I mind the winter? No, not at all.
0
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 11:57 PM UTC
Winter
I give up, completely and fully. I expel, withdraw, and drop all thoughts of him. Belittle him from my memory as has me from his heart. But I can't help reflect as I dissolve from his core, Minimizing 700 days of your magnitude. I'm the magnanimous, hopeful fool who believed that he would either evaporate or metamorphose. Though, neither has happened. I unwillingly must judge all present, past, and future feelings towards him. From the alluring curls of your mouth, to the moment you presented the words that changed my heart, to every lamentable cry that soaked my pillows, to our first embrace, as our lips held each others... to every burden I felt to the depths of my stomach, to every wasted moment, so many ****** moments that could have been spent on much better than him, and I'm stuck. As always, waiting for the fight you'd make for me. But the only one who is fighting the possibility of me giving up is, in fact, myself. 700 days waited and wasted, I expel all further fights.
0
Jul 7, 2012
Jul 7, 2012 at 10:47 PM UTC
Giving Up
00111222333444555666777888999000000099988877766655544433322211100 aaabbbcccdddeeevery word, thought, feeling made simple by those and that which create it fffggghhhow am I suppose to find the bigger picture in this world of I SPY, CSI, and magnified screens, text, and images iiijjjkkklllet me suppose we do it without conscious regard for the bigger picture, but I cannot believe that when we scrutinize each other to the point of minimizing each other’s soul, purpose, and individuality mmmnnnooopppqqquite the notion when you examine the world around us and its ever outward expansion by mans technology, freethinking mind, and unquenchable reach rrrssstttuuuvvvery ironic as I focus on the letters that give me inspiration yet cling to the words that give voice to my every fleeting thought wwwxxxyyyzzzero chance that my message finds a bigger paper, forum, or world for the letters that make them up do not scream loud enough for the worlds magnifying glass to hear zzzyyyxxxwwwith ever black to white click of thought it becomes analyzed by the grammatically correct, socially adept, and economically sept vvvuuutttsssrrreveling itself in form, purpose, and motivation as my numbers climb with the amount of eyes that these words find qqqpppooonnnmmmy own ego lost in a numbers game and battle of the words, played against my own self doubt and an ever changing world lllkkkjjjiiilluminated by an audience whose thoughts are much like my own, who play under the same lights and are surrounded by the same dome hhhgggffforever screaming in black and white as the world spins in color, reveled in pictures but structured in letters and numbers eeedddcccbbbaaalone we must all feel as we stare at the big picture and the underlining letters, while our life moves beyond the sight of our glass 00111222333444555666777888999000000099988877766655544433322211100
0
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 5:08 PM UTC
abc123 (April 19th, 2014)
00111222333444555666777888999000000099988877766655544433322211100 aaabbbcccdddeeevery word, thought, feeling made simple by those and that which create it fffggghhhow am I suppose to find the bigger picture in this world of I SPY, CSI, and magnified screens, text, and images iiijjjkkklllet me suppose we do it without conscious regard for the bigger picture, but I cannot believe that when we scrutinize each other to the point of minimizing each other’s soul, purpose, and individuality mmmnnnooopppqqquite the notion when you examine the world around us and its ever outward expansion by mans technology, freethinking mind, and unquenchable reach rrrssstttuuuvvvery ironic as I focus on the letters that give me inspiration yet cling to the words that give voice to my every fleeting thought wwwxxxyyyzzzero chance that my message finds a bigger paper, forum, or world for the letters that make them up do not scream loud enough for the worlds magnifying glass to hear zzzyyyxxxwwwith ever black to white click of thought it becomes analyzed by the grammatically correct, socially adept, and economically sept vvvuuutttsssrrreveling itself in form, purpose, and motivation as my numbers climb with the amount of eyes that these words find qqqpppooonnnmmmy own ego lost in a numbers game and battle of the words, played against my own self doubt and an ever changing world lllkkkjjjiiilluminated by an audience whose thoughts are much like my own, who play under the same lights and are surrounded by the same dome hhhgggffforever screaming in black and white as the world spins in color, reveled in pictures but structured in letters and numbers eeedddcccbbbaaalone we must all feel as we stare at the big picture and the underlining letters, while our life moves beyond the sight of our glass 00111222333444555666777888999000000099988877766655544433322211100
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3
What is real life like ? always mistreated, always misjudged always sad the cause of her pain was not us or others but someone whom she accepted to live her entire life with, whom promised to cherish and share the good as well as the bad times, a happy ever ending full of love and prosperity , now take off the happy , love and prosperity and replace it with sadness, hate and misery Not very encouraging isnt it , when you are meant to live your entire life with that person , a life that was supposed to be defined As comfort and love, but instead you live it with those 3 words  How do u think it will be? Oh u hve no idea because if you  havent been thru it or seen it by ur eyes u will never believe it or feel it , u will be smartly convinced that it is not true but just some arrogant young lady who's complaining about her life, a life that must be a dream for many others ... When you live in a world where bribing is the basic method for bringing silence and what i mean by silence is the unfairness and prejudice,   bribing is not always by money as many others believe , it's more of brainwash. Now let me continue the sad ever ending story For this life every new day becomes worse than the past ones, more terrific, horrific and catastrophic, when you are young  ,you are more pain tolerant and patient ,you may be kind and forgiving but as u start growing older all of those qualities start minimizing  creating the whole problem because you become unable to control your feelings, fears and nerves , but it's also when everyone starts blaming you for mistakes you have done in the past while forgetting that they were the reason to all of that, being forced to accept this pain and asked  to be courageous and strong for those kids but what really counts for them is not the wellbeing of the kids as much as their own wellbeing, consequently creating  a silent volcano that was waiting for nothing but a little move to explode . ‪ Neeza.❤️
0
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 6:02 PM UTC
What is real life like?
What is real life like ? always mistreated, always misjudged always sad the cause of her pain was not us or others but someone whom she accepted to live her entire life with, whom promised to cherish and share the good as well as the bad times, a happy ever ending full of love and prosperity , now take off the happy , love and prosperity and replace it with sadness, hate and misery Not very encouraging isnt it , when you are meant to live your entire life with that person , a life that was supposed to be defined As comfort and love, but instead you live it with those 3 words  How do u think it will be? Oh u hve no idea because if you  havent been thru it or seen it by ur eyes u will never believe it or feel it , u will be smartly convinced that it is not true but just some arrogant young lady who's complaining about her life, a life that must be a dream for many others ... When you live in a world where bribing is the basic method for bringing silence and what i mean by silence is the unfairness and prejudice,   bribing is not always by money as many others believe , it's more of brainwash. Now let me continue the sad ever ending story For this life every new day becomes worse than the past ones, more terrific, horrific and catastrophic, when you are young  ,you are more pain tolerant and patient ,you may be kind and forgiving but as u start growing older all of those qualities start minimizing  creating the whole problem because you become unable to control your feelings, fears and nerves , but it's also when everyone starts blaming you for mistakes you have done in the past while forgetting that they were the reason to all of that, being forced to accept this pain and asked  to be courageous and strong for those kids but what really counts for them is not the wellbeing of the kids as much as their own wellbeing, consequently creating  a silent volcano that was waiting for nothing but a little move to explode . ‪ Neeza.❤️
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the seed nestled in the safety of the soil enveloped by pressure looks upward and hopes to grow slowly inching further the seed charts its course each step feeling the weight of earth pressing downward as it breaks the green exposed the world pushes back "am i not supposed to see the surface?" the seedling asks itself confused and shamed shunned it retreats it tries again asking forgiveness for its persistence minimizing its existence struggling to fit into cracks already exposed rather than forge them anew slithering through the path forces it farther away it reaches the top but here there's no sun angry the seedling wonders why she must say sorry in order to grow and that her dreams are cause for apologies
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Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 11:33 PM UTC
the seed
I'm in a corner minimizing wasted space huffing particles of dust if you leave me in the rain I will surely rust in the corner in the dark of the silent hours
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Jul 26, 2012
Jul 26, 2012 at 1:24 AM UTC
Silent hours
I fell badly he says in painful groan His hand plastered for the broken bone *I didn’t slip nor in walk do I sleep Or move in worries buried deep! But still I fell in broad daylight In clear view and clean eyesight Without a pothole a hidden bump Walking without a hop or a jump! It’s painful though I don’t mind God is so great He is so kind He led me like a true guide Ensuring I fall on my left side. It's His way of showing grace minimizing harm lessening distress with my right hand working and free my life is as normal as could be!*
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Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 10:47 AM UTC
His Way