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"mishap" poems
Another mistake Another mishap Adds up to the wrongdoings of humans The number keeps increasing Humanity tried hard to be perfect Unable to accept that we are but flawed creatures Truth be told Accidents and mistakes help us progress For the greatest inventions were creations of accidents And mistakes the secret of knowledge
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Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 8:01 PM UTC
Accidents and Mistakes
You used to be my pink skies and cotton candy clouds but now everything is grey, rainy and miserable. And it makes me want to cry. We're going in a different direction now and I am not the one who pulled the steering wheel. I no longer see my open fields flooded far and wide with cherry blossoms and all the green sparrows have flown away. They are crying now and I can no longer hear your voice. Instead, it is all a barren wasteland. And the sand is not even at least the beautiful orange the Sahara desert always is. All the portraits in my castle have gone blank. The castle itself, war torn, brought down to rubble as a result of the battle I fought within myself. I may have lost the battle but I have not yet lost the war. I hope. Unfortunately, our worlds did not collide as subtly as I had prayed. It was a violent mishap, an event outside of time. I sit silently and alone in the centre of my dreams as I have witnessed them being violently washed away by ocean waves with my hands tied and bound by my admiration for you. You like beaches right? That has to mean something, maybe a reason for you to stay a little longer. You are my Dystopia. But dystopia is subject to interpretation. And what is yours will never be mine and what is mine you do not even want at all. My dystopia sounds like it belongs in a book, but we all know how long that lasts. Be sure to check out Utopian Dystopia Pt. 1!
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Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 2:27 PM UTC
Utopian Dystopia Pt. 2
The reason why I apologize So profusely over the tiniest of things Is because I always feel as though I am a bother and annoyance so I want the person to be aware that I am truly sorry for the mishap I may have brought about or the wrong words that may have come out of my mouth Because in the past I had to apologize again and again A million sorries I must have said Just to get the point across Just to assuage the anger I unintentionally caused I apologize repeatedly Because I fear not being taken seriously When I say sorry I mean it with all of my heart I apologize even when people say I am not at fault Because in the past I was always the one guilty I was always in the wrong Because when that rage came up and rolled along It rolled right over me And so I said sorry I said sorry to the steamroller for being in its way And for the broken bones and bruises on my heart that I carried for days I apologize for apologizing Because I know I must sound so repetitive and annoying But I feel as though I can't apologize enough To make up for and cover up Whatever sin I may have committed against the one I am apologizing to Because when you say it’s okay I always fear it’s not true Because in the past those hiccups and bumps That weren't even my fault were held against me for months No matter the amount of times I said sorry and meant it And the number of times I tried to fix The mangled mess that wasn't mine but that I was still apologizing for It was like going to war But I waged it and gave my best effort To stitch and sew up the jagged cuts Of long angry nights and an alcohol filled gut But failed and then apologized when the seams ripped and tore Because no matter what I did was going to restore What used to be Or repair the damage that happened before me And so I am sorry for that That I couldn't make it better because I lacked Whatever it was you were looking for But that constant state of feeling guilty is what sent me out the door And I am free of that weight now But I still feel the need to say sorry for every little mistake now Thanks to you I sound like a record stuck on repeat So I’m sorry that I say sorry too much But I never know when enough sorries are enough
0
Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 2:08 PM UTC
An Apology for Apologizing
The reason why I apologize So profusely over the tiniest of things Is because I always feel as though I am a bother and annoyance so I want the person to be aware that I am truly sorry for the mishap I may have brought about or the wrong words that may have come out of my mouth Because in the past I had to apologize again and again A million sorries I must have said Just to get the point across Just to assuage the anger I unintentionally caused I apologize repeatedly Because I fear not being taken seriously When I say sorry I mean it with all of my heart I apologize even when people say I am not at fault Because in the past I was always the one guilty I was always in the wrong Because when that rage came up and rolled along It rolled right over me And so I said sorry I said sorry to the steamroller for being in its way And for the broken bones and bruises on my heart that I carried for days I apologize for apologizing Because I know I must sound so repetitive and annoying But I feel as though I can't apologize enough To make up for and cover up Whatever sin I may have committed against the one I am apologizing to Because when you say it’s okay I always fear it’s not true Because in the past those hiccups and bumps That weren't even my fault were held against me for months No matter the amount of times I said sorry and meant it And the number of times I tried to fix The mangled mess that wasn't mine but that I was still apologizing for It was like going to war But I waged it and gave my best effort To stitch and sew up the jagged cuts Of long angry nights and an alcohol filled gut But failed and then apologized when the seams ripped and tore Because no matter what I did was going to restore What used to be Or repair the damage that happened before me And so I am sorry for that That I couldn't make it better because I lacked Whatever it was you were looking for But that constant state of feeling guilty is what sent me out the door And I am free of that weight now But I still feel the need to say sorry for every little mistake now Thanks to you I sound like a record stuck on repeat So I’m sorry that I say sorry too much But I never know when enough sorries are enough
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50
So I heard once that there’s always some gnarly looking carrot in every bag of carrots and you’re supposed make a wish on it if you get it. But I didn’t have a bag of veggies I had a jar of Gumby and Poki shaped gummies. Finally the day came when there were only two Gumbys left. One was bent in half and smashed together and the other looked as all the rest had. I pulled out the sad little gummy and made a wish like it was some ugly carrot. I wished my crush would kiss me, And giddily I walked to a coffee house because I was hoping he would be there even though I sternly told myself that he had no reason to be there. I found the coffee house closed and knew my wish wasn’t happening that night. I talked with a friend about my woes and she confessed her heartache. We smiled and laughed and died just a little on the inside. We had hoped that in college we wouldn’t feel like middle school girls with unrequited crushes. The next day he dropped off a fish (and this is no euphemism or pretty poetry slang, I opted to fish-sit while he went home for break). After he left, and feeling more than silly I took out the last Gumby and pretended. I pretended that it was every wish on a boy I had made since I realized boys weren’t completely disgusting. On my way to class I held the little gummy in my frozen, clenched fist and wished that’d he’d kiss me before he left. I made it really specific because every movie I’d ever seen with genies in it had taught me that specifics were key to avoiding mishap and mayhem. Obviously, it didn’t come true. And I feel like I’m back in middle school, wishing on ugly carrots and stars that look suspiciously like airplanes. Everyone has crushes, and still more wishes. Why I thought at the age of nineteen when the glamour of Disney-endings and romantic-comedy plots had tarnished to realism, that a Gumby gummy prayer would come true, well I’m not entirely sure. Maybe it’s no matter how old you are there are always ugly carrots and shooting stars and fast airplanes and romantic comedies and gummies in the shape of kids’ show characters. Maybe no matter how disappointed I am there will always be unrequited crushes and genies for wishes and God for prayers and heaven forbid hope.
0
Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 11:53 PM UTC
Ugly Carrots and Gummy Gumbys
So I heard once that there’s always some gnarly looking carrot in every bag of carrots and you’re supposed make a wish on it if you get it. But I didn’t have a bag of veggies I had a jar of Gumby and Poki shaped gummies. Finally the day came when there were only two Gumbys left. One was bent in half and smashed together and the other looked as all the rest had. I pulled out the sad little gummy and made a wish like it was some ugly carrot. I wished my crush would kiss me, And giddily I walked to a coffee house because I was hoping he would be there even though I sternly told myself that he had no reason to be there. I found the coffee house closed and knew my wish wasn’t happening that night. I talked with a friend about my woes and she confessed her heartache. We smiled and laughed and died just a little on the inside. We had hoped that in college we wouldn’t feel like middle school girls with unrequited crushes. The next day he dropped off a fish (and this is no euphemism or pretty poetry slang, I opted to fish-sit while he went home for break). After he left, and feeling more than silly I took out the last Gumby and pretended. I pretended that it was every wish on a boy I had made since I realized boys weren’t completely disgusting. On my way to class I held the little gummy in my frozen, clenched fist and wished that’d he’d kiss me before he left. I made it really specific because every movie I’d ever seen with genies in it had taught me that specifics were key to avoiding mishap and mayhem. Obviously, it didn’t come true. And I feel like I’m back in middle school, wishing on ugly carrots and stars that look suspiciously like airplanes. Everyone has crushes, and still more wishes. Why I thought at the age of nineteen when the glamour of Disney-endings and romantic-comedy plots had tarnished to realism, that a Gumby gummy prayer would come true, well I’m not entirely sure. Maybe it’s no matter how old you are there are always ugly carrots and shooting stars and fast airplanes and romantic comedies and gummies in the shape of kids’ show characters. Maybe no matter how disappointed I am there will always be unrequited crushes and genies for wishes and God for prayers and heaven forbid hope.
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80
the cake I made this morning was a disaster the ingredient to get it to rise I left out of the cake batter when the timer rang to say the cake was cooked I looked in the oven and the cake was as flat as the cook it is vital to have baking powder in this cake recipe and to omit it from the ingredients list has made a fool out of me this afternoon I'll be without a fine cake for afternoon tea and I'll have to settle for some bread and honey
0
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 1:08 AM UTC
Baking Mishap
You're sitting across a table, in the next room- and it's the month of July. And as the beads of sweat chip off your forehead like a shank of butcher's meat, your dorcel fin peaks through the sand where my toes peak through. The picnic table where I write letters; post cards. I take photos, make reservations, and even after I'm canceled on for walking around downtown in my bright neon-pink underwear, I still roll to the left side of the bed sit up and drop the cigarette I fell asleep on. You're just sitting, first entry: Stardom. I don't have room for you in the corners. The corners of this room, padded walls, shifty vaseline sway- the white cotton stick of a sucker pointing out of your mouth, its red numero forty dye shines in the specks of light flicking out of the horizon like a carousel ride around and around. I'm getting a bit dizzy, and even less honest. If you want to see me spring, like the silly string on my birthday, yellow silly-putty; molding the monster face, I observe you through a kaleidoscope of dexedrine and morphine. Your catastrophe with Xanax, passed out in alien-green ******* at that party in the abandoned firehouse on News St., how you could lay trust on me after that (a daydream with sawing you called me) sixteen-year-old mishap of an afternoon. &
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Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:31 AM UTC
Even While We're Itching
What brief utterance this, the color of time That gives more meaning than language can hold To force a confrontation between unresolvable contradictions Such as make malleable a gracious hospitality to ****** And sound trumpets of unwarranted discord That lie and lament the reputation and experience of damage Hold forth the envious clouds of displacement To provide for the vicious energies of hate Those oppressive weights of past problems That enactment of intense and exhausting experience Which embalms the tears of fresh bleeding Without impediment dictates the human existence Where the mistress of aggressive thought finds Extremity of dire mishap a strenuous protest Leads to well meaning certainty of illusion And asks, art thou so in love with masks that you Would transform thyself and as such Bind a loyalty of angers to thy touch
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Aug 21, 2012
Aug 21, 2012 at 4:21 PM UTC
United Nations and Syria (compiled in the tradition of William Shakespeare )
I settle near the Camellia as good fortune surrounds me. I wonder how does luck grow leisurely around me? I can't recall pushing a lucky seed into moist dirt of a weathered slip *** Many friends and siblings feel battle fallout as Zeus and Hades hurl bolts of catastrophe at them. Life is unfair. Meek brothers and sisters will you inherit the earth or misfortune? Mishap, misadventure and calamity do you lurk around the next bend of my fair weather journey? .
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Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 1:29 PM UTC
Camellia
Farewell, false love, the oracle of lies, A mortal foe and enemy to rest, An envious boy, from whom all cares arise, A ******* vile, a beast with rage possessed, A way of error, a temple full of treason, In all effects contrary unto reason. A poisoned serpent covered all with flowers, Mother of sighs, and murderer of repose, A sea of sorrows whence are drawn such showers As moisture lend to every grief that grows; A school of guile, a net of deep deceit, A gilded hook that holds a poisoned bait. A fortress foiled, which reason did defend, A siren song, a fever of the mind, A maze wherein affection finds no end, A raging cloud that runs before the wind, A substance like the shadow of the sun, A goal of grief for which the wisest run. A quenchless fire, a nurse of trembling fear, A path that leads to peril and mishap, A true retreat of sorrow and despair, An idle boy that sleeps in pleasure’s lap, A deep mistrust of that which certain seems, A hope of that which reason doubtful deems. Sith then thy trains my younger years betrayed, And for my faith ingratitude I find; And sith repentance hath my wrongs bewrayed, Whose course was ever contrary to kind: False love, desire, and beauty frail, adieu. Dead is the root whence all these fancies grew.
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3.2k
A Farewell To False Love
Living for your twisted amusement I am taking risk after risk To be friends like I promised Help you find happiness When I was your girl that seemed simple Had it figured out Life took the things I knew about you Replaced them with a load of doubt It all happened within my reach I was too slow to turn the tides Losing all I clutched close to my heart When I wouldn't loosen my grip time pried Those who predicted our demise Lifted their gaze to point and laugh In that position I realized something I was meant to grow from this mishap It was a part of my journey The truth was made openly clear Dark clouds loomed over  sweet perfection Horizon no longer smudged by denial and fear Senses aren't functioning very well In the center of your games This place I recognize without hesitation I sit and strategize methods to break the chains There is no hand to conquer Though this chess match was fun I've learned you never play fair You just cheat and cheat until you've won
0
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 12:59 PM UTC
Congratulations, You Win!
six-inch heels abandoned in lampless corner       grimy pennies embedded in carpet rent's due wedding band girl "fab polka dot frocks" waterfalling past knees        outta place on casino bus destined for rest under Ft. Worth stars now, now    ********* borealis speckled dice true love waits socialite lip balm and bourgeoisie hips compete in bidding war over which black face triggerpulls which black face eyes the ground passerby the red light      the green light all night diner    egg on chin   coffee-stained porcelain   teeth "I forgave, I think. I forget." crowded and paranoid in the left lane    the right lane empty and weak and surrender and soiled underwear in ammonia nursing home children is a word     time is a lie the polka dot and the interstate ain't selling divorce the consequence of acoustic shadows reblog   undo   #sotrue    reblog living through x-ray radiotherapy the dotted gown never the veiny calves or the blush or the eyeliner somewhere in North Texas shawtys are in the club shawtys are backin' it up    shawtys are dropin' it down hit me+hit me+hit me=blackjack mishap the marvel of the wind and of wind turbines cognac decade brides     the epitome of class and natural elegance standing like oil derricks and treated like oil wells so secretive and philanthropic this taxon remains nameless casino turned dance hall   dance hall   skinny ties still a thing this wine is good. is it a merlot?    no.    this is purely recreational for birthdays   for weddings    and Ft. Worth missionaries 10-50 passengers   we've got 53, no 54 #hahahaha #whoops #party who needs unprescribed drugs? me, me (!) decomposing mascara sweat on brow the interstate no longer lit polka dots has got the suicide by Manet pulled up on her iPhone the financial stress   which shudders warm-blooded moms on her lips    every mother a librarian   every mother a swing-pusher but digression    next to bitterness   the lowest sin edging the cultural gateway of the old west miracles in and miracles out of tradition following the slender bends of middle ancient Trinity River children a word   pattycake a game and time   time a lie we left to museum panoramas
0
Feb 2, 2013
Feb 2, 2013 at 8:12 PM UTC
on the borderland
six-inch heels abandoned in lampless corner       grimy pennies embedded in carpet rent's due wedding band girl "fab polka dot frocks" waterfalling past knees        outta place on casino bus destined for rest under Ft. Worth stars now, now    ********* borealis speckled dice true love waits socialite lip balm and bourgeoisie hips compete in bidding war over which black face triggerpulls which black face eyes the ground passerby the red light      the green light all night diner    egg on chin   coffee-stained porcelain   teeth "I forgave, I think. I forget." crowded and paranoid in the left lane    the right lane empty and weak and surrender and soiled underwear in ammonia nursing home children is a word     time is a lie the polka dot and the interstate ain't selling divorce the consequence of acoustic shadows reblog   undo   #sotrue    reblog living through x-ray radiotherapy the dotted gown never the veiny calves or the blush or the eyeliner somewhere in North Texas shawtys are in the club shawtys are backin' it up    shawtys are dropin' it down hit me+hit me+hit me=blackjack mishap the marvel of the wind and of wind turbines cognac decade brides     the epitome of class and natural elegance standing like oil derricks and treated like oil wells so secretive and philanthropic this taxon remains nameless casino turned dance hall   dance hall   skinny ties still a thing this wine is good. is it a merlot?    no.    this is purely recreational for birthdays   for weddings    and Ft. Worth missionaries 10-50 passengers   we've got 53, no 54 #hahahaha #whoops #party who needs unprescribed drugs? me, me (!) decomposing mascara sweat on brow the interstate no longer lit polka dots has got the suicide by Manet pulled up on her iPhone the financial stress   which shudders warm-blooded moms on her lips    every mother a librarian   every mother a swing-pusher but digression    next to bitterness   the lowest sin edging the cultural gateway of the old west miracles in and miracles out of tradition following the slender bends of middle ancient Trinity River children a word   pattycake a game and time   time a lie we left to museum panoramas
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44
I kind of miss way back when you and I were just us and everyday, everyday was only ours. You stood out like every mishap does and I could never regret you. (Just open your eyes.)
0
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 12:20 PM UTC
Hazel
Here neatly side by side these rotted steels Cancerous rust peeled off paints lay idle Progress put halt these **** grown wheels The sad pale ghosts of once was tireless angels In unknown graveyard of ambulances There's silence. But whistling birds in a tree Not like sirens blared heard far distances Cut through traffic like ships divide the sea Wings on fire ferrying perilous load Sick and dying dire need to hospital Mother's in labour mishap on the road Saviour of lives young, old and critical Where mankind employs, mankind destroys Hollowed vans left to whims like broken toys.
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Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 9:01 PM UTC
Sonnet; Graveyard Of Ambulances
Doors will open, The doors can be a big oppertunity, Or a mishap. Sometimes you open the wrong doors, So you just have to, Find the right ones.           j.b
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Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 4:15 PM UTC
Doors
An Apathy for Effort What happened to the world? What happened to all of the happy people? Drugs, money, ***** None of the above. I'll tell you what happened. People happened to people. Although, not others and to each other. People happened to themselves. Satisfaction became fiction Men and women lost the grip on their vision. Not eyesight, but people forgot the initial mission. The concept of being happy with what you have got And worrying less about what you want. If everyone would just shut up And see how truly blessed they are, Perhaps they would see How truly blissful life can be. Because what is bliss, but simply A continuity with the whole. And not a hole in the wall, but the make of two halves. If half the world gave half a hoot We might experience bliss. But we all individually feel deserving of more As if we should get more than what we work for. Yet NOBODY, is willing to give more than a lift of a finger to attain. It's too much of a chore. We all expect the doors of life To open to us, like a Walmart Super-center. Where's the effort? Where's that fighting spirit? It's taking a nap with all of the hypocrites. Those who spend their days feeling sorry for themselves. Those who left their aspirations in a a Mason's jar High upon the shelves, then claiming ignorance as to what happened to their dreams, like lost car keys. They know where they left them. Hanging on the seams of their memories, Abandoned when it became too hard To work to achieve. It's a sad state of affairs When a man settles for his second choice of lifestyle. Simply because his first choice was having an affair With difficulty. Making it fairly difficult. What is that man scared of? Failing? You only TRULY fail if you don't try. so instead he settles for second best, While his heart sits idle and cries. His heart cries: "WHY?! Why won't you try?" He is scared to lose, That's why. The sad thing is. It's not as hard as that man thinks. He simply needs to go out and do it, and he will know happiness for the rest of his life. But of course he's now too busy, ******* it all away. Sipping on his bottle of sorrow drowning firewater, somewhere when it's 5 o'clock. As the whiskey burns and numbs his senses, he attempt to consent himself with his settlement. Living out his days with his mind and his heart In constant battle. Wondering what could have been. What SHOULD have been... So I beg of you, don't choose to be another misfit or mishap. Be you and always be true. True to your heart and ideals. Don't ever be frightened by adversity, Be EQUALLY adverse. Do not ever lose your grip on what makes you, YOU. -Nathan W. Smith
0
Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 12:36 PM UTC
An Apathy for Effort
An Apathy for Effort What happened to the world? What happened to all of the happy people? Drugs, money, ***** None of the above. I'll tell you what happened. People happened to people. Although, not others and to each other. People happened to themselves. Satisfaction became fiction Men and women lost the grip on their vision. Not eyesight, but people forgot the initial mission. The concept of being happy with what you have got And worrying less about what you want. If everyone would just shut up And see how truly blessed they are, Perhaps they would see How truly blissful life can be. Because what is bliss, but simply A continuity with the whole. And not a hole in the wall, but the make of two halves. If half the world gave half a hoot We might experience bliss. But we all individually feel deserving of more As if we should get more than what we work for. Yet NOBODY, is willing to give more than a lift of a finger to attain. It's too much of a chore. We all expect the doors of life To open to us, like a Walmart Super-center. Where's the effort? Where's that fighting spirit? It's taking a nap with all of the hypocrites. Those who spend their days feeling sorry for themselves. Those who left their aspirations in a a Mason's jar High upon the shelves, then claiming ignorance as to what happened to their dreams, like lost car keys. They know where they left them. Hanging on the seams of their memories, Abandoned when it became too hard To work to achieve. It's a sad state of affairs When a man settles for his second choice of lifestyle. Simply because his first choice was having an affair With difficulty. Making it fairly difficult. What is that man scared of? Failing? You only TRULY fail if you don't try. so instead he settles for second best, While his heart sits idle and cries. His heart cries: "WHY?! Why won't you try?" He is scared to lose, That's why. The sad thing is. It's not as hard as that man thinks. He simply needs to go out and do it, and he will know happiness for the rest of his life. But of course he's now too busy, ******* it all away. Sipping on his bottle of sorrow drowning firewater, somewhere when it's 5 o'clock. As the whiskey burns and numbs his senses, he attempt to consent himself with his settlement. Living out his days with his mind and his heart In constant battle. Wondering what could have been. What SHOULD have been... So I beg of you, don't choose to be another misfit or mishap. Be you and always be true. True to your heart and ideals. Don't ever be frightened by adversity, Be EQUALLY adverse. Do not ever lose your grip on what makes you, YOU. -Nathan W. Smith
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79
I thought you cared for me Because, your words had always conveyed that to me I was supposed to be your best friend However, our relationship, you decided to end You said you were my sister But you left me feeling rather bitter Because you cared only about yourself And left me hating myself For something as minor as a Facebook comment Never did you have any good intent! I thought you cared for me But it was never "we" It was all "you" Our friendship had no value Because you were obsessed about yourself You and your anaconda sized ego Which you could never let go You and your precious Mumbai Indians Were the only **** sapiens Who truly mattered to you Apart from your "bestest friend" You, would he blindly defend As though you were a Nobel Prize winner While you were actually a sore loser With an extremely domineering personality Masked by a deceptively sweet tongue I thought you cared for me But you never let me be Because, all that mattered, was your precious image Often, would you take umbrage Over relatively insignificant matters Such as me not marking you present When you were LITERALLY absent No wonder, did you have your haters Because, YOU came before everyone else Never did you take a pause And empathise with anyone In fact, YOU were everyone!! I thought you cared for me But you never truly cared for anyone You thought you were a special someone Who deserved all the attention in the world On the other hand, often did you fold At the slightest hint of pressure Though you were so sure That you were always right Oh boy, never were you a pretty sight!! I thought you cared for me But you never took the trouble to understand me You called me your best friend But I was nothing more than a means to an end Because you were a narcissist And as a friend, one of the worst Seriously, accepting your offer of friendship Was nothing short of a mishap!! Anyway, you will get what's coming to you Your friends will eventually leave you And then it will be just YOU Left to fend for yourself As you deserve to be Because you are so obsessed with yourself However, the world is for all It's time you learned that Once and for all!!
0
Mar 3, 2024
Mar 3, 2024 at 11:30 AM UTC
I Thought You Cared For Me
I thought you cared for me Because, your words had always conveyed that to me I was supposed to be your best friend However, our relationship, you decided to end You said you were my sister But you left me feeling rather bitter Because you cared only about yourself And left me hating myself For something as minor as a Facebook comment Never did you have any good intent! I thought you cared for me But it was never "we" It was all "you" Our friendship had no value Because you were obsessed about yourself You and your anaconda sized ego Which you could never let go You and your precious Mumbai Indians Were the only **** sapiens Who truly mattered to you Apart from your "bestest friend" You, would he blindly defend As though you were a Nobel Prize winner While you were actually a sore loser With an extremely domineering personality Masked by a deceptively sweet tongue I thought you cared for me But you never let me be Because, all that mattered, was your precious image Often, would you take umbrage Over relatively insignificant matters Such as me not marking you present When you were LITERALLY absent No wonder, did you have your haters Because, YOU came before everyone else Never did you take a pause And empathise with anyone In fact, YOU were everyone!! I thought you cared for me But you never truly cared for anyone You thought you were a special someone Who deserved all the attention in the world On the other hand, often did you fold At the slightest hint of pressure Though you were so sure That you were always right Oh boy, never were you a pretty sight!! I thought you cared for me But you never took the trouble to understand me You called me your best friend But I was nothing more than a means to an end Because you were a narcissist And as a friend, one of the worst Seriously, accepting your offer of friendship Was nothing short of a mishap!! Anyway, you will get what's coming to you Your friends will eventually leave you And then it will be just YOU Left to fend for yourself As you deserve to be Because you are so obsessed with yourself However, the world is for all It's time you learned that Once and for all!!
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64
You began as a dream Dreamt by leaders with vision Evolving to surpass All of man's wildest ambition... With adventurous men Like Shepherd and Glenn You stubbornly strove To prove, once again Beyond any doubt That bounderies could be broken... Despite mishap and fire Alas, you did inspire A generation to dream... From Mercury to Apollo The world, it did follow Your steady pace To Tranquility Base... Via Viking and Voyager Your efforts did prove That exploration of the universe Was well on the move... To Mars, Jupiter, Saturn and Neptune... You tenaciously endeavored To, your accomplishments, festoon... Your progress was sure As you strove to endure The incessent chatter Of the grossly short-sighted Their nonsense did clatter Proving they were poorly enlightened... With untold discoveries Like non-stick surfaces and airtight seals Through your numerous breakthroughs You've shown us how it feels To live better... From Columbia to Hubbel You've saved us great trouble In our daily lives... With your Space Station mission You've shown the same vision And, continue to lead in gaining cognition Of our universe... Lead on, great adventurers Lead on.
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Nov 1, 2010
Nov 1, 2010 at 6:35 PM UTC
To The Adventurers
From whence this identity comes Malts, hops, father’s approval What he holds in his arms Is of no surprise ‘Just missing’ each other Not likely coincidental Star couplings, mishap earthlings Persons never to be known Crossed streets to Strange neighborhoods Lawn games… how odd In quiet hours on the highway Gripping, understood, elusive and all wrong Remembering, but more forgotten Ring passed over luminescent waters Love, not enigmatically magical Autumn hues in baby fine hair Righting the nightmares Nothing mattered more than this.
0
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 4:27 PM UTC
Einstein Wore V-Neck Sweaters
I find it ironic how most dystopian novels are about a utopia A world created to be perfect because ours failed A world full of control, uniformity, perfection, no reflection No identity, no war, no lust, maybe lust. Maybe just lust. Broken, failed, oh how this brave new world derailed It's a mishap, a hit and a miss, a world full of "ignorance is bliss" Hidden from the view, Or maybe just hidden from you Oh yes it's quite ironic how the perfect world is ours, Which we find so imperfect as we stare up at the stars And wish for a world that we could just be one Because everyone belongs to everyone
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Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 3:07 AM UTC
Our Brave New World
I lay still as if I were a breathing corps. My heartbeat reminds me I still live. My mind wanders aimlessly; It drifts in and out of the borders of valid conception, and withers to its content. Am I alive, or waking from a prolonged dream? These thoughts contradict my understanding of this world. They break the grips of my reality, and plunge me into the unknown. Although the notion tinges a world of fear. My perspective shifts; My consciousnesses fades away and is vibrantly replaced by a wave of blissful euphoria. This is a strange existence. Time is irregular; It means nothing here. Days seem like seconds; minutes seem like weeks. O' to what a mishap, a folly happenstance, a fringe to conventionality. To who or what pleasure do I owe? Part of me wishes to leave this place. Albeit a part wishes to remain. I am in love with this realm, yet I know there is somewhere else that I must be. So now I set sail to find the world that I came from; with a pleasant gift from the one I left.                    I look upon an old existence,                                              with new eyes.
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Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 12:55 AM UTC
With New Eyes
who were they kidding, twas evident to the eye who were they kidding, twas evident to the eye a love connection did abide, longstanding of nature a love connection did abide, longstanding of nature twas evident to the eye, a love connection did abide longstanding of nature, who were they kidding in public careful they were, concealing a linkage in public careful they were, concealing a linkage a mishap would give them away, they played it safe a mishap would give them away, they played it safe in public careful they were, a mishap would give them away they played it safe, concealing a linkage why do they persist with a charade, truth is being honest why do they persist with a charade, truth is being honest feelings precious can be shown, covertness lacks integrity feelings precious can be shown, covertness lacks integrity truth is being honest, feelings precious can be shown covertness lacks integrity, why do they persist with a charade a mishap would give them away, a love connection did abide twas evident to the eye, truth is being honest why do they persist with a charade, who were they kidding feelings precious can be shown, they played it safe in public careful they were, covertness lacks integrity concealing a linkage, longstanding of nature
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Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 8:53 AM UTC
Longstanding Of Nature (Paradelle Poem)
*night is falling down earth a floating spire in a whirling sea of diamonds you look up blue-eyed coquette thick and dripping tears nestled in my arms all is never perfect in this world an industry of clatter and mishap but we hold fast like spooled silk smooth legs and feet drink my soul your torso a clinging angel snake dance your hands caressing my face if you slapped me hard i would cry it would feel so good and another and another my fire burns hotter like torrid butterflies eating mouths brushing your nape lush lips kissing let me feel your teeth i need razors you hiss wild eyes incinerate this barren horn of plenty embracing i inhale you tropic of Scorpius spark in the dark your stings, ambrosia the devil's fire and the grace of heaven you are the blood in my veins i love you*
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May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 8:03 PM UTC
NIGHT FALLS
She -- albeit still and very distant; tiptoes 'round my heart; constantly pirouetting in my mind And I am left seeking -- where she hides; crashing towards her spell; wondering if she ever -- misses me at all~
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Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 11:27 PM UTC
Mishap
Ruffles your hair in the soft of the summer patch, sunbeams cling to you like honey then later cling to my ever growing hopes of happy happy love. silly silly silly winky-dink he bruises you with stains of purple-pink which later fade to yellow like 'le soleil' friction burns will come from 'le soleil' and linger and cling to your chest like an arrow through the heart. heart-throb. you belittle me one too many times doodle-bug. Rosie roses are nice to fancy and fathom but thorns only puncture pale skin and drain you of your ruby juice until you are nothing but a dusty, hollow skin shell. pale naïve and empty to be filled with dreams, desires and demands as well. hate is not easily boiled in your kitchen kettle water but I think that's a good thing munchkin. Hold back your disdain bite your tongue crack your teeth and do not repeat what your brain whispered it has been lying to you since the day you were born you silly silly silly... this is a ripping seam in your moonbeam and your emotions begin curdle and to leak out like fish but then you remember crying is okay but **** such salt water back in and say naught. distraught. At witching hour it will come at you a cold sweat in the night where your fingers tingle and your meat twinkles faces before you with holes for irises. they have been sent to inject mishap and upside down rainbow viruses. when was the last bedtime you had cloudless soul with organic thoughts? oh fleshly girl tip-toe lightly as blood trickles down your ego and melts it away to stardust to form another cheeky doodle-bug munchkin grin
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Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 11:30 AM UTC
Munchkin Grin
Ruffles your hair in the soft of the summer patch, sunbeams cling to you like honey then later cling to my ever growing hopes of happy happy love. silly silly silly winky-dink he bruises you with stains of purple-pink which later fade to yellow like 'le soleil' friction burns will come from 'le soleil' and linger and cling to your chest like an arrow through the heart. heart-throb. you belittle me one too many times doodle-bug. Rosie roses are nice to fancy and fathom but thorns only puncture pale skin and drain you of your ruby juice until you are nothing but a dusty, hollow skin shell. pale naïve and empty to be filled with dreams, desires and demands as well. hate is not easily boiled in your kitchen kettle water but I think that's a good thing munchkin. Hold back your disdain bite your tongue crack your teeth and do not repeat what your brain whispered it has been lying to you since the day you were born you silly silly silly... this is a ripping seam in your moonbeam and your emotions begin curdle and to leak out like fish but then you remember crying is okay but **** such salt water back in and say naught. distraught. At witching hour it will come at you a cold sweat in the night where your fingers tingle and your meat twinkles faces before you with holes for irises. they have been sent to inject mishap and upside down rainbow viruses. when was the last bedtime you had cloudless soul with organic thoughts? oh fleshly girl tip-toe lightly as blood trickles down your ego and melts it away to stardust to form another cheeky doodle-bug munchkin grin
Continue reading...
4
The bandits and outlaws own this town, The anarchists and killers roam free, The innocent haven’t suffered, They’re extinct, Genuinely, Intensely, Migrated to a better place, Now that the laws and rules don’t apply, This world is free of substantial duty, Discipline exists as a rule of criminal code, The conduct of personal freedom is to live, Numero uno lives to rebel and scratch out, To know the enemy as himself, Regretting nothing, Punching himself in the chest Treasuring the moment, In all fickle splendor, To not be thought about too hard, Experienced in mishap, Total bedlam the usual events, Drunken buffoonery, Lazy expectations, Silly and trite, Can’t tell the difference after a while in this town. Maybe at one point there was a group, A genuine collection of unique and careful persons, With a great deal to offer and intelligence, A new way to think, An ****** for the masses created in a basement with some ***** The ceremony turned to reality, Too intimidating to comprehend and soon it consumed, Corruption and went ugly…quick, Roots went sour and now spread, Core and far and wide, Grew up to make it all sunken, Down the tubes, Fueling the sun and expounding nothing, Just mindless energy wandering, No purpose, Dealing with the devil everyday, Coming up on top.
0
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 11:26 PM UTC
BANDITS AND OUTLAWS