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"misbelief" poems
Shabash Shābāsh (Hindi: शाबाश, Urdu: شاباش, Punjabi: ਸ਼ਾਬਾਸ਼, Bengali: শাবাশ, Telugu: శబాష్) is a term used in the Indian subcontinent to signal commendation for an achievement, similar in meaning to bravo and kudos. …………………………………………… a poem writ sometimes, oft, snaps back, I was surprising recipient of a commendation in language I knew not the poem spoke well of broken boundaries, between in this instance, Jew and Muslim, capturing a momentary parting of the seaways and walls of misbelief and mischief, normally employed to keep our divisions, parted perpetually I’ve decided to begin to use shabash now, my ‘go to’ word from now on, a small quiet way to say well done it starts with one word, a stretching hand across the face fence, imagining John Lennon’s imagine-world, who lay dying when I was a young father of thirty, me residing less than a mile away from each other little could I imagine then that poetry would pick me at all, especially to write of words in dialects I don’t speak, but imaging their pastel colorations flying by in gentle breezes, eager to be grabbed, plucked from the air, tongued and loved so! when I say to you, in the softest spoke, shabash! to all of us, for choosing this path, using your words in every dialect, to spread the imagination of good will 8-4-2019 10:10 am S.I.
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Aug 4, 2019
Aug 4, 2019 at 10:28 AM UTC
Shabash! (Hindi: शाबाश, Urdu: شاباش, Punjabi: ਸ਼ਾਬਾਸ਼, Bengali: শাবাশ, Telugu: శబాష్)
your "friends" that we meet, i forget their names, my calloused palms are greased, by their  squeezing hands i remember one's a banker, or he could have said a thief, his ******** words were flanked, by my misbelief i was held hostage, you were a smiling drone, i remember when i lost to Stockholm Syndrome their Heirloom Suffix changes, on tuxedos and trust funds, my rental wears just fine, i'm not the danger shorting stocks on tuesday, while playing ball in hand, what a shame to lose me, busted seams this man I am not a banker, I am not a saint, I cannot to be trusted, I won't place the blame. I am not a proxy, I am an astronaut, But this distant world you live on, Is far from my plot
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May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 9:04 PM UTC
Heirloom Suffix
Can't is a word I refuse to comprehend. Can't does not exist in my vocabulary. Not if I intend to live fearlessly. Can't and Fear feed off each other like fire and air. The two will dance and expand, Spread to the last corner and inches of my land. Can and Faith are the words I will invest into my mind, body, and soul. Can't will not enter into my mind, For it might sit in my mouth, And slip off my tongue. Can't is a poison; The everlasting **** to my garden. Can't will destroy every blossom created, And seize the seeds yet to sprout. Can't has the power to end the action of planting. I will never again see a flower, if I let Can't grow. Can is the remedy to imagination and ingenuity. Whereas, Can't impedes and blocks creativity. Can't eliminates possibilities, It drains and empties. Even the most tenacious sea Could not withstand the Dehydration of Can’t Can't ignites negativity, creating an immobilization and inability to try. Can't creates an ending before there was a chance for beginning. Can't breeds the misbelief of failure, even if there was never to be a winner. In many ways, Can't is the biggest lie created from out mind. Mis-be-LIE-f But if I were to look on the inside, I'd rather give myself a fighting chance, Then quit before I start because of the word Can’t We will be faced with new challenges each day, New obstacles will arise and come into play Life has an abundance of what we must overcome, I would hate to make myself the enemy, Be the one standing in front of a self-created machine gun. If I were to approach the word for all that it is It is after all, Just a word. I would let a word dictate and decide The choices, risks, and chances taken in life. Seems unbalanced That one word can have full access To my thoughts and actions. There The infinite possibilities in the World and Me. If the only difference between Can and Can’t Stands an Apostrophe and T, Then I choose to remove The contraction entirely. If you still don’t believe How destructive Can’t can be Here are a few synonyms for contraction as taken from Wiki: “shrinkage, decline, diminution, decrease”. None of those words seems appealing to me. All of those words will devour my dreams. Which is why Can’t is a word I refuse to comprehend.
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Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 2:36 PM UTC
Can't
Can't is a word I refuse to comprehend. Can't does not exist in my vocabulary. Not if I intend to live fearlessly. Can't and Fear feed off each other like fire and air. The two will dance and expand, Spread to the last corner and inches of my land. Can and Faith are the words I will invest into my mind, body, and soul. Can't will not enter into my mind, For it might sit in my mouth, And slip off my tongue. Can't is a poison; The everlasting **** to my garden. Can't will destroy every blossom created, And seize the seeds yet to sprout. Can't has the power to end the action of planting. I will never again see a flower, if I let Can't grow. Can is the remedy to imagination and ingenuity. Whereas, Can't impedes and blocks creativity. Can't eliminates possibilities, It drains and empties. Even the most tenacious sea Could not withstand the Dehydration of Can’t Can't ignites negativity, creating an immobilization and inability to try. Can't creates an ending before there was a chance for beginning. Can't breeds the misbelief of failure, even if there was never to be a winner. In many ways, Can't is the biggest lie created from out mind. Mis-be-LIE-f But if I were to look on the inside, I'd rather give myself a fighting chance, Then quit before I start because of the word Can’t We will be faced with new challenges each day, New obstacles will arise and come into play Life has an abundance of what we must overcome, I would hate to make myself the enemy, Be the one standing in front of a self-created machine gun. If I were to approach the word for all that it is It is after all, Just a word. I would let a word dictate and decide The choices, risks, and chances taken in life. Seems unbalanced That one word can have full access To my thoughts and actions. There The infinite possibilities in the World and Me. If the only difference between Can and Can’t Stands an Apostrophe and T, Then I choose to remove The contraction entirely. If you still don’t believe How destructive Can’t can be Here are a few synonyms for contraction as taken from Wiki: “shrinkage, decline, diminution, decrease”. None of those words seems appealing to me. All of those words will devour my dreams. Which is why Can’t is a word I refuse to comprehend.
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62
If I had had a pocket for every time you came in the form of a misty leaf, (sticking to the underside of my misbelief, drawing attention to every old logical fallacy that was, blissfully, missed) I still wouldn’t have enough to hold the amount of change we’ve set in motion, the density of our meaning, nor the emotions you inflict on me, from your place on that mountain. (as if through sorcery); And I can’t help but imagine you as some metaphoric fountain, forever spouting pockets— The seeds of your actions sprouting in neat rows of goodwill, and decisive Indecision, your face half hidden in some fey magic of mythologized memory your hair ridden with peaceful fire and emptiness, your lips set in a quiet compassion, ashen from the song of my phoenix lyre, content in uncontentedness, knowing that bliss is also not-bliss, and that every moment spent apart is a melody of separation: this— the crafting of some divergent art, spooky action at a distance, these shadow figments mere resistance to our own true nature: the heart’s desire, sown in every field, every stable, this very word, and all the fables that persistently insist that perhaps there’s one more thing I’ve missed. So I’ll look once more (through that gateless gate, perceptions door) at your sleeping face, the oceans floor, clouds weeping, that distant shore of sandy grace: outside time, inside space.
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Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 1:29 PM UTC
Some Fey Artifact
And again it is time for lies small, careful constructs delivered in the interest of self-preservation in hopes of mollification of the claustrophobic inquiries of dear, devoted friends so it is once more down the rabbit hole escaping into a world of misbelief buffered in gentle, worthless cloaks of half-truths that provide a deceptively soft and comfortable place to be silent and still until honesty loses some of its brutality
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Jul 18, 2010
Jul 18, 2010 at 10:45 AM UTC
hide and seek
Bad habit the moment you first sprinkled stardust in my hair tenderly caressed my cheek the husky morning light throwing faint shadows bed sheets scattered hearts caught by surprise then shattered into shimmering bright as pre dawn had me forlorn lost in your sweat my tears kissed away your tongues mixology feeding back to me my tears and my *** breeding blending alchemical lust the birth of a bad habit born out of a good love this little bird stuck in your gilded cage would become locked out by your inner rage as madness descended four lives upended passion fighting the good fight biting back against the strain of this bad bad habit loves first bloom birds singing before the sun rose you tearing down all my defences raw desire the fire the fire the fire in your ***** becoming my ****** scribing incantations secret spells of love of dreams of wanting with your *** on my belly skin glistening in the early morning sun when did the love mutate to ownership passion became obsession your misbelief my imagined transgressions tearing the silk at its seams then on your knees begging to redeem redeem redeem too many heartbeats too late the light snuffed out stuffing the **** in loves spout sweet turned bitter now just spit it all out loves lamb slaughtered throat cut and bleeding out spitting my teeth on the floor of our house built on 'love' feeling my jaw crack splinter under the strong hands that once held me "safe' 'loved' me wed me then bled me dry of all hope love hanging choked on the rope kicking me to pieces and me kicking this bad bad habit clean. J.C. littlebird 03/07/2019
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Jul 2, 2019
Jul 2, 2019 at 11:03 AM UTC
Bad habit.
Bad habit the moment you first sprinkled stardust in my hair tenderly caressed my cheek the husky morning light throwing faint shadows bed sheets scattered hearts caught by surprise then shattered into shimmering bright as pre dawn had me forlorn lost in your sweat my tears kissed away your tongues mixology feeding back to me my tears and my *** breeding blending alchemical lust the birth of a bad habit born out of a good love this little bird stuck in your gilded cage would become locked out by your inner rage as madness descended four lives upended passion fighting the good fight biting back against the strain of this bad bad habit loves first bloom birds singing before the sun rose you tearing down all my defences raw desire the fire the fire the fire in your ***** becoming my ****** scribing incantations secret spells of love of dreams of wanting with your *** on my belly skin glistening in the early morning sun when did the love mutate to ownership passion became obsession your misbelief my imagined transgressions tearing the silk at its seams then on your knees begging to redeem redeem redeem too many heartbeats too late the light snuffed out stuffing the **** in loves spout sweet turned bitter now just spit it all out loves lamb slaughtered throat cut and bleeding out spitting my teeth on the floor of our house built on 'love' feeling my jaw crack splinter under the strong hands that once held me "safe' 'loved' me wed me then bled me dry of all hope love hanging choked on the rope kicking me to pieces and me kicking this bad bad habit clean. J.C. littlebird 03/07/2019
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93
Your Always The One Who Held My Pain Deep Inside Tamed It As If It Was Your Own So It Wouldn't **** Me Inside Your Heart Knew My Pain Your Tears Always Carried Your And My Sadness Away Depression Was Your Middle Name The Wolf's Eye Was Always Different Was Always The One Who Knew From Same From Different Never Could You Be Another Eye Another Star In The Sky Where My Tears Align In The Sky ~Paris Styron~ Your Tears Always, Hanged By Sorrows Of The Night Grief That Always Grief That Fills Your Day With Fear And Illusions That I Can Never Unfold ~Paris Styron~ When You Unfold My Note Of Pain You Unfold It With Care That Almost No One Can See Where No One Seemed To Care You Almost Could Not Bare My Tears Down My Face With The Undead On The Ground Where Fear And Death Have No Bounds [~Paris Styron~] Your Blood Always Spoke To Mine Always Fear And Death Made You Bleed Of Guilt And Shame You Always Had Pain That Would Never Go Away Until I Flew With Your Wings I Noticed They Could Not Fly Without Me Without Hope Without Happiness That Always Lead To Shame And You Died Inside Day By Day Night By Night Day By Night You Always Flew In Despair In Depression Which Always Kept The Soil Growing And The Graves Crying Your Pain Is My Command I Am Used To It [~Paris Styron~] The Walls I Write On Always People Look Away In Misbelief In Mis' Of Shame Bloodly Paws Always Perfume Your Thoughts With Guilt Of Laughter Of Shame That We Cannot Wash Away Our Pain Tears Always Hanged Never Noticed Always Ignored To Be Insane And Left Out Of The Pack Because Your Face Is Black Because Your Face Is Worn Out And So Are Your Memories Imprinted Never Forgotten In The Night You Always Howled My Heart Which People Like Poison Darts Cut You Down In The End Darts Makes Your Blood Run Stale [~Paris Styron~] Your Childhood Broken Away From Peace From Happiness From Joy To Despair To Pain To Hopeless To Hold In That Shame Never Could You Be Sane With Yourself Again [~Paris Styron~] The Tears Drops Fill Up Their Glasses Worn Out Places Worn Out Faces Had An Early Of The Daily Races Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Your Heart So Black So Black You Never Wanted Worn Out Memories Worn Out Faces Of Pain Of Sorrows Of Grief That Always Bleed Away The Day And Bleed Through Happiness And Joy And Eats You Away Like Acid It Paints Its Name Guilt And Shame You Must Always Be Alone [~Paris Styron~] Scars Pass On And Pain Is The Memory That Keeps The Soul Caring Because They Do Not Want That Scar To Be Another One To Own Their Love One And Be A Hook That Digs Into Their Souls [~Paris Styron~] Your Tears Are Scars That Cannot Be Ignored Be Silent You Always Have Stars That Speak Your Name Only One Aligns My Heart My Soul Always Until The End [~Paris Styron~] Everywhere I Step I Think Of You My Heart Turns Into Stone When I See You, You Show Your Delicate Love You Hold My Pain It Hangs On A Wall That Keeps Me Sane You Hold Me Like A Child To Keep Me Young Because Life Is Too Short For Grudges For Stress For Problems The Only Meaning In Life Is Love ~Paris Styron~
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Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 7:53 AM UTC
Wolf's Eye
Your Always The One Who Held My Pain Deep Inside Tamed It As If It Was Your Own So It Wouldn't **** Me Inside Your Heart Knew My Pain Your Tears Always Carried Your And My Sadness Away Depression Was Your Middle Name The Wolf's Eye Was Always Different Was Always The One Who Knew From Same From Different Never Could You Be Another Eye Another Star In The Sky Where My Tears Align In The Sky ~Paris Styron~ Your Tears Always, Hanged By Sorrows Of The Night Grief That Always Grief That Fills Your Day With Fear And Illusions That I Can Never Unfold ~Paris Styron~ When You Unfold My Note Of Pain You Unfold It With Care That Almost No One Can See Where No One Seemed To Care You Almost Could Not Bare My Tears Down My Face With The Undead On The Ground Where Fear And Death Have No Bounds [~Paris Styron~] Your Blood Always Spoke To Mine Always Fear And Death Made You Bleed Of Guilt And Shame You Always Had Pain That Would Never Go Away Until I Flew With Your Wings I Noticed They Could Not Fly Without Me Without Hope Without Happiness That Always Lead To Shame And You Died Inside Day By Day Night By Night Day By Night You Always Flew In Despair In Depression Which Always Kept The Soil Growing And The Graves Crying Your Pain Is My Command I Am Used To It [~Paris Styron~] The Walls I Write On Always People Look Away In Misbelief In Mis' Of Shame Bloodly Paws Always Perfume Your Thoughts With Guilt Of Laughter Of Shame That We Cannot Wash Away Our Pain Tears Always Hanged Never Noticed Always Ignored To Be Insane And Left Out Of The Pack Because Your Face Is Black Because Your Face Is Worn Out And So Are Your Memories Imprinted Never Forgotten In The Night You Always Howled My Heart Which People Like Poison Darts Cut You Down In The End Darts Makes Your Blood Run Stale [~Paris Styron~] Your Childhood Broken Away From Peace From Happiness From Joy To Despair To Pain To Hopeless To Hold In That Shame Never Could You Be Sane With Yourself Again [~Paris Styron~] The Tears Drops Fill Up Their Glasses Worn Out Places Worn Out Faces Had An Early Of The Daily Races Happy Birthday Happy Birthday Your Heart So Black So Black You Never Wanted Worn Out Memories Worn Out Faces Of Pain Of Sorrows Of Grief That Always Bleed Away The Day And Bleed Through Happiness And Joy And Eats You Away Like Acid It Paints Its Name Guilt And Shame You Must Always Be Alone [~Paris Styron~] Scars Pass On And Pain Is The Memory That Keeps The Soul Caring Because They Do Not Want That Scar To Be Another One To Own Their Love One And Be A Hook That Digs Into Their Souls [~Paris Styron~] Your Tears Are Scars That Cannot Be Ignored Be Silent You Always Have Stars That Speak Your Name Only One Aligns My Heart My Soul Always Until The End [~Paris Styron~] Everywhere I Step I Think Of You My Heart Turns Into Stone When I See You, You Show Your Delicate Love You Hold My Pain It Hangs On A Wall That Keeps Me Sane You Hold Me Like A Child To Keep Me Young Because Life Is Too Short For Grudges For Stress For Problems The Only Meaning In Life Is Love ~Paris Styron~
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327
The king is dead he never rose from his resting place, chose instead to be the embodiment of a false fable writing the copyist. Within a cave of delusions that kept the image of false motives hidden. An off spring of a method not unkempt. this version the kept reasoning now forbidden. Delusions of two reflections not seeing that one is not a king but a falsehood sat on divided chat. Neither were a failing, but reflections of a belief that were conflicting upon a tree with a twinned leaf. But when one must fall, both will simultaneously greet the earth with a momentary spontaneously. Always will one be ahead of the other claiming divine leading, and others follow this moment of design. But every king has a past that is woven in misbelief, for all false kings can bring is an unethical belief that they are the true monarch of a world run by many where brothers & sisters there just spinning a single penny
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May 11, 2018
May 11, 2018 at 6:58 PM UTC
False Kings Doom Us All
Penetrate the Galaxy your memory the enemy The point so meaningless bones shudder Misbelief, death is release Carbonate energy Space travel legacy
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Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 9:10 PM UTC
Anonymous
Your Pawprints Always Infeceted, Frozen, In Pain With Time Never Could Fine The One Like You The Star I Could Never See Again In The Hail, Of The Snow, Your Pawprints Always Leave A Trace Of Pain That I Always Unfold With Care That Horrify Others In Misbelief Of The Harash Truth That Always Leads To Isolation Because Some Wolves Don't Understand That Which Others Would Reject Would Savage For Any Purpose To Only Help Themselves I Look Into Your Pain In Your Pain In Your Eyes It Freezes My Soul And My Heart, My Tears Always Washes Away Your That Always Makes Us Closer Love Until The End ~Paris Styron~
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Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 7:52 AM UTC
Infected Pawprints
Years as a loner Under the big changing Sky work and commitment Family shared, misbelief a far cry Yet down in his heart A burning light Hidden, secretly shielded Condescending bullies outside Illumination never extinguished Shined at an occurence Where clashes opened windows Into a new bright world He had to find a deed personal To give it all he had Persona physic in real time No apprehensions met Taking the reign of his gatekeepers' soul Chose desires to be freed To find freedoms mole His mind at ease A song danced his whistle This lad with a brithel (c)near_lane7
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Nov 30, 2020
Nov 30, 2020 at 9:10 AM UTC
The answer
My life isn't always filled with sadness and grief. I just have this bad habit of only writing when I'm hit with mental illness and misbelief. When I inhabit this place of mind, the only way to escape is writing until I’m able to leave this behind. Everything gets intertwined, I get the feeling of hatred towards humankind. But all of this does not last, it goes away and then it comes back.
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Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 9:50 AM UTC
Bad habit.
Here comes the pain, the emotional turmoil inside. Wishing it would all go away, all my eyes want to do is cry. There is no savoring of life, dreams have disappeared . Which way is it to unlock peace? Where is this peace anyway? Look unto the heavens, the stars in the night sky. Peace has a way of finding the yearning heart, good things will happen for ones down and out. All the pressures of the day will melt, the heart is rejuvenated in accordance. The passage seems to be a rhyme of life, A praise lifted up into the air. Contrary to misbelief, all one needs is a little faith. The seeds that are planted grow, it doesn't moves mountains, but it sure moves with a purpose, something dreams are made of.
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Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 12:25 PM UTC
A Purpose
My beliefs are what make me strong My beliefs set fire to passions that spark Send flames A smoke signal To the ones i harm Tells them to come home Run away from the shame The blasamist The pain Run away to the light So I can hold you warm And tell you it's alright Keep faith In the unknown It is your friend It's,time to Tell you the truth It's all misbelief
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Jan 2, 2020
Jan 2, 2020 at 10:12 PM UTC
Belief
Writing isn't about how much Anger you can accumulate. It's about heart and such, And at that, passiom agate. Rage within one's soul, Provides a lot of drive. But reversing without control, Is nothing at which to strive. Sorrow seeping through the seams, Seamlessly slithering into your dreams, As you start to slip away from reality, And realize its lob-sided lethality. Misbelief can be misleading, Leaving your heart utterly bleeding, Creating holes that bore far, And serum that cannot soothe the scar. Fear makes one easily fickle, And become rusty and rotten. And just as one discards a pickle, So too, you become forgotten. So, be not what comes not naturally, For you are created beautifully. And in the state in which you are joyful, Go forth, and flourish, and be fulfilled.
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May 24, 2017
May 24, 2017 at 9:18 AM UTC
Exploring Emotions