"misinterpretation" poems
Maybe it's for you but not for me, but who knows?
When will the time stop and give way to the paradoxical space that will shove the soul out of its life, eventually?
Tend to think that the archetypal white collar worker is what you should be before you delve into the reality?
Jumped into the ripest chord of a void song, and you found nothing but truth and perplexity?
Threw yourself into the wilderness but you are still deprived of happiness, only peace, filled with emptiness?
Crashed the mental into bi-polarizing set of uncertainty and sanity, driving everything towards the ravine of confusion and misinterpretation?
Dropped the last sweat of joy and contentment before you discover the eventuality, pessimistic value of the whole context?
Until the ultimate full stop appears, will you understand what is the whole story is all about?
Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 6:56 AM UTC
I fear thyself
I fear attraction
I fear unfamiliarity
I fear attention
I fear incidence
I fear conversation
I fear interaction
I fear answers
I fear questions
I fear to tell my story
I fear to hear yours
I fear compliance
I fear conflict
I fear benevolence
I fear mutuality
I fear victimisation
I fear change
I fear to love
I fear to hate
I fear significance
I fear insignificance
I fear the lies we tell
I fear the truths we hide
I fear imprisonment
I fear freedom
I fear hope
I fear despair
I fear old age
I fear children
I fear intelligence
I fear ignorance
I fear to take
I fear to give
I fear to borrow
I fear to loan
I fear to exchange
I fear to teach
I fear to learn
I fear to laugh
I fear to cry
I fear to be
I fear not to be
I fear to be afraid
I fear to be brave
I fear to die
I fear to live
I fear discomfort
I fear responsibility
I fear to gain
I fear to lose
I fear victory
I fear defeat
I fear antrophy
I fear hypertrophy
I fear inertia
I fear activity
I fear obedience
I fear disobedience
I fear justice
I fear injustice
I fear totality
I fear poverty
I fear embarrassment
I fear addiction
I fear declamation
I fear guilt
I fear pride
I fear delusion
I fear unfulfillment
I fear my apathy
I fear to be wakeful
I fear to be tired
I fear my capabilities
I fear my incapabilities
I fear my dreams
I fear my nightmares
I fear women
I fear men
I fear being disabled
I fear misinterpretation
I fear misrepresentation
I fear altruism
I fear limitation
I fear to endear
I fear to inspire
I fear to forget
I fear to remember
I fear self doubt
I fear discrimination
I fear starvation
I fear migration
I fear fragility
I fear formality
I fear banality
I fear enticement
I fear cruelty
I fear judgement
I fear to embrace
I endure what I fear
I endure because I must
I endure myself because I fear
Endure thyself
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 6:37 AM UTC
I was is in second grade when Emily told me "if you where born a few years back you'd be a slave"
As if I hadn't looked in the mirror latley.
Oh how it felt to be the only brown girl in a white school
Minority
Misinterpretation.
A maybe
Is what I was
An outcast
4th grade
I visit my father and his family
My grandmother and aunt whisper,"Gringa" laugh laugh "Sangrona" laugh laugh
My mother hispanic and my father Mexican
6th grade
My best friend is disgusted because I define as Mexican yet can't seem to speak perfect Spanish
9th grade
I learned that bi racially I am a mut,
As if I don't have enough labels already
I must prove to my friends I am white, yet hispanic to my family
My second aunts snicker at my broken Spanish
No need to gain their validity
They can't believe my mother raised me away from their culture
Despair fills their eyes as labels blur mine
Must I prove myself every time?
What if I'm not either or?
Nor a mix
Nor white
Nor hispanic
Nor mexican
Nor latina
Nor bi racial
Nor sangrona
I don't seek your validation but your understanding
I'm not a unique exhibit
Only a 16 year old girl dealing with teenage drama and high school studies
A dreamer at heart
An artist who loves to show it
I have a name
I'm more than my skin color
Or that of my mother's & father's.
If I'm ever asked to prove myself
I will answer with only
"I am already proven
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 11:36 PM UTC
Forgive me Father for we were too blind to lead our hearts, misled by our fragile thoughts and irreconcilable differences.
Forgive me Father for the misinterpretation created in in my head by dilemma and submerged in trauma;
I was blind to trust and numb to disregard our own fresh wounds rubbed in salts in guise of words.
W o r d s
Cuts like a knife, straight to the heart and insidious
Like an uninvited guest, it stays till you're completely exhausted.
Drowned myself in vulnerability to trust the stranger
Unsure of the grave repercussion and danger.
Forgive us Father for losing ourselves in pain and game
For we were too naive to comprehend
Until we embarked on suffering till the end.
Jun 7, 2022
Jun 7, 2022 at 2:50 AM UTC
Dressed-up words
misguide our naked thoughts
far more than naked thoughts
influence the use of dressed-up words.
Words can be a narcissistic cover-up
or
masks expressing secondary emotions,
even if the wordsmith
is begging to be
needed.
If one desires to communicate
with a purer intent,
to cut through language's sinew
of misinterpretation,
and into truth's marrow,
such communication can happen
within wordless silence
where blooms
touch
waves
salt
sweat
true north,
pantings
in the cold;
the swelling heat
of iron ignition.
When my tongue dissolves the words,
laps up innuendos
and syntax errors of reality
from in-between
the honeyed surface
of language,
over-stimulation
spins me deliriously.
If
this
needs a pause,
a breath to breathe,
to feel the distance,
our wavelengths
will never cease
to communicate.
September 12th, 2015
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 3:35 PM UTC
Speculation proved
contagious,
misinterpretation
crept silently on patchwork soles
(odds n' sods messily stitched,
tittle tattle did no favours)
like a flu it spread,
hushed curiosities rested
outside ol' Hutch baker's door,
where even a freshly oven'd
batch might strain an ear
or five to net nearby tongue trading,
seeds straining on their brows.
Even those Mother hens
had a cluck or two left in them,
rumours about the
'Dust mite Martyr'
as she was dubbed,
“Does she have no shame,
sitting pretty in Matrimony's dress?”
one heaving checkered breast commented
titling her beak
to gain a better look -
At that shriveller slumped,
an examiner of the cobbles
with such a religious stare
her lids traced stones
within the darkness,
a traveller -
wanderer not to be trusted,
especially not
with bloodied lilies tangled
within her gleaming mop.
Oct 25, 2011
Oct 25, 2011 at 1:58 PM UTC
- A person must judge another by their character. Ignorance and bias media make issues out of race. If you are a person that does not understand any movement, then most likely you have never stood up for anything in your life. It is sad that divisions are at play between people when we are all the same. We are humans. Your *** race, or theology does not matter. What does matter is the fact that people come from different backgrounds. That is the only difference between people. You do not choose your parents. You do not choose your upbringing. A child that is handed everything will not understand the life a child has that only knows struggle. If you do not understand socioeconomic disparity and the reasons why they are in place, you will not understand injustice on a institutional level. When you see other races talking about ideologies such as "white privilege" it is completely justified because there are situations that a white man may not face ever in his lifetime, but a minority is aware of and taught at an early age because they will certainly come across it. The beauty of this country is being able to have an opinion without the fear of consequence, but understand that basic "Rights" are a fallacy. A right can be taken away. That in and of itself is a privilege. There is too much complacency within this generation and ones before it. You must have convictions. You must have beliefs that are not only based around religious faith, but the act of altruism. Does a person need to label something to reach a level a comfortability? No, not at all. That is a common misinterpretation of ignorance, when it is plainly a way to state that knowing what something is does not have to be explained. I'm not sure if some think education stops when schooling is finished, but it's not. And as much as people want to talk about this country and others falling to the wayside, it is because of inaction and not being able to unify and have empathy for others. Your life is your own, but to secure a future and continue progression we must all stand together and not be presumptuous, but rather be protective of community and critical thinking. There are too many losers in the system, and they aren't minorities, they're people not properly educated. You can't erase history as easy as you can erase atrocities that aren't just. Don't put your trust in your government, but your neighbors. But that doesn't mean that you should also exclude social programs that are needed as much as oxygen. This is the life you are given, and it is you decision to stand up or sit down. And if you do stand up, do it for the right reason: valuing life. If this message does not resonate with you, we have nothing in common, and that's fine, but don't talk about current events or social problems that are beyond your comprehension.
- Charlie
Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 6:42 PM UTC
Fond of love? Is it not?
With whom do I speak about?
Is it the heart?
A mere transaction between the heart and the love that it gives
Takes
Moves and listens to each
And every
Single
Day.
I feel…
Yet there is no presenter.
No one to share,
No one to give.
No supplier, provider. There is a house,
Yet it is no home. No place to reside.
What I feel is an experience worth the ride. I bought plane tickets this time.
A one way ticket to wherever it can take me.
Prescribe me the medication, the antidote.
Respond to my prayers with a challenge, rather than a definition.
Give me the reason I long for, simply
Because I ask for it.
Love.
Give it to me.
Feed it to me,
Make it melt in my mouth, at the tip of my tongue.
Let it linger,
Whisper my name,
Romance at the calm of my voice.
Feel my words against yours.
Trial my heart.
Adore.
Bestow upon her the
True
Meaning
Of
Love.
The distinction between a kiss,
And a hug.
The conceptual, intangible evidence that she is looking for.
Hurt?
Pain?
No more.
What I feel is the reaction to love.
There can only be pain
Where there is a heart.
This can go on for as long as it can be taken.
I have been beat up by love,
Yet I refuse for it to take advantage.
It will challenge me indefinitely, until I learn what it dares not bring forth at ease.
Afraid, withdrawn. Confused,
Wishing for a moment. My heart is weak.
Tired of the constant reciprocation of negative energy feeding at her.
Eating her alive. Heart.
Love,
Striking her.
Take it. Take it.
Not for an eternity, rather,
For a moment.
Stand up and fight for it.
A feeling deep inside waiting to let go. Please,
Take it.
I dare not wish to fight another day. She says. She says
She loves him.
She says that she wants to be with him.
Another heart to hold,
Another heart to handle.
Another heart to feel, and be loved by.
A heart scorned by the misinterpretation of the mind however. An emotion that remains,
Sitting
As if there was no other place.
Without love I do not seek to be found. With it,
I am everything. I am a journey with no end,
No signs telling me where to go, what to do, who to love and who to be without. Love.
Shut up and take it.
Barr up the doors! Continue to hide in safety. Create your own world,
Within the lies you constantly tell yourself. Day to day
You sit and embrace your own heart,
Your own hourglass.
In hope of one day someone else loving you the way that love does.
The word is simply a word.
The actions are actions,
And the pain is pain.
The feeling is feeling,
The emotion is emotion.
What is love is love,
What gives what receives are what we call motivation.
Fond of love I am.
It is not pain that I speak of. It is the heart.
Worthy of any and every transaction between itself and love and I live in it
Each
And
Every
Single
Day.
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 4:58 PM UTC
The glamour and the lights
No such thing as winter night
Celebrity sights?
Let me show you my contact lists
But there's so much untold
Open your eyes and behold
Listen on the train, to the babies fuss
Avoid the screaming man, he's ******
Beverly Hills misinterpretation
Really lived off 7th and metro station
The man sitting next to you coming down
Was once a successful businessman downtown
There is no American Dream
Everything is a money making scheme
The single mother with those twins
She was ***** walking from work in the heights
Everybody knows everybody
But nobody's are nothing's
Cheating husband, double life
He's got a boyfriend, don't tell his wife
The city of Angeles
Not everybody wins
Watch out for the forgotten demons
Not everyone lives under city lights
Yet we all have to figure out our way
Taking any opportunity we could
But I'm living just another day
In Hollywood
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 4:06 PM UTC
Constipation, ************
excitation, evaluation
Hold on a minute
HIS Creation
The mind went blank
the body convulsed
no-one knows why
but theories abound
Expectation, demolition,
misinterpretation, damnation,
Wait a second
MY Creation
I did so much
in my chaotic youth
probably nothing to blame
only me and my likes
Infuriation, retaliation,
malediction, apprehension,
stop-look-listen
THEIR Creation
It seems unfair
but why despair
put it in perspective
certainly things could be worse
Demoralization
Intimidation
Expectation
Presumption
Assumption
Palpitation
Aggravation
Ball of confusion
Trepidation
Holy ****
A VIOLENT Creation
Jan 9, 2011
Jan 9, 2011 at 3:31 PM UTC
I'm trapped in the web
Spun from dreamt up illusions
Victim to none other
Than my hopeless delusions
Lured in by the same temptations
Agony is unmet expectations
Like an insect entranced by the light
Trying to escape the depths of night
I was drawn in once again
Perhaps this time will be the end
Hope was a deadly misinterpretation
Lost amongst unspoken translation
And I knew this all along
As I traveled towards the sirens song
I can't break free although I try
you're a spider, and I'm a fly
It's your normal way to be
As chaos starts to strangle me
The pain I wish I could not feel
Consumed by fear, the struggle's real
It's almost over so I'll say goodbye
The dark creeps in and I'm ready to die
Just when I thought I was fading away
I realized it's just Valentine's Day.
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 9:33 PM UTC
The yearning for Escape, a misinterpretation
Conception instigated from understanding
Unobtrusive acquiescence of unending comprehension
Thoughts explode in the blue and rain down
Lovely eruptions submerged in moonlight
Showering the spheres with a dazzling gleam
Deluging them with adoration and consideration
Illuminating the path to eternity
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 8:41 AM UTC
Look far beyond your nose
Imagine the wording prose your mind recites despite the fights between the lights;
Stand-back to back with your enemies
And believe that you are safe,
A mistake;
Craving knowledge of everything from your existence
To your beliefs
I believed I was falling down the trail
And all hail the misguided princess;
She's so misguided the North Pole becomes south
And the south;
Exiting from her mouth
With a flow; the beautiful candles of her heart.
The beautiful candles of her heart
Those that lit stormy fire inside mine
Those that lit up the dark pits of something I forgot about,
And all about my whereabouts
I see the signs of inconclusive doubts
Over my forehead, reflected upon people's faces;
And eyes look at me with non-empithetical sympathy
The symphony of eyelashes flapping over a lost identity.
I'm lost.
All those spiritual stoppages
Are causing my hands to shiver
All those figurative speech as she caresses her words
Preparing mine to stutter
Are making my eyes darken
And my faith to dismay;
I may,
Or may not be the person you want to find
But I find you the person I was never looking for
Yet I still crave the carves you carve on my hands.
The snapping bones of anger;
The cracking knuckles of regret;
The apprehensions preconceived with the threats;
The young man lost his track
The young man lost in the wild
With ideas even wilder
And actions that do not convey his messages
For the circles of bees become limits to his being;
For the frontiers of fighting lions
Become barriers to his block,
That upper corner in dying arteries; hidden
Way over the Mediterranean seas forgotten,
That young man is creating chaotic cancellations,
Phones typing messages of hesitation,
Brains articulating pieces of his own creation,
A salutation be upon my buddy
The young fellow who got lost facing everybody,
And everybody cheered as they watched;
His being stepped on, and heart being stabbed
The chats between the minds
Become cramps
The cramps in his existence become fatal agitation
The agitations in his life become psychiatric misinterpretation
For he got it all wrong
Everyone got it all wrong
But does that stop him?
Let alone
Does that stop all the fake men who built their empires upon forged pillars?
Killers,
Of characteristics;
Followers,
Disciples and students
To a dark lady
Typing her last words of goodbye
Over a phone that’s found in her palms
Yet lost,
In a young girl's heart.
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 10:06 AM UTC
Misinterpretation,
Mislead,
Missing all of you.
The knife blue your eyes,
sawing hacking engraving
your initials in my chest like bark.
Embark.
Rough hands.
I remember the canyons of your lips,
I plummet down with every word you mouth,
~falling falling arms open face first~
The kisses and kisses and kisses and more kisses.
Smother me.
Booming laughter.
The marks and scars of your face,
from other boys and girls and parents and growing older.
I remember their order and presence.
The beauty marks and freckles
Which shape constellations my zodiac has applause.
Resume.
Lazy eye.
All of this hope,
And every passing water gets my change
And every first day gets two rabbits
And every other boy gets my denial
And every suspicion is overlooked.
And I have learned sometimes that is what love becomes.
Me in a waiting room.
Staring at the suckerfish hide in plastic castles.
Reading Women's Health.
I have learned to trust time.
And to never, ever accept what I cannot change.
DEVOUR WHOLLY
And I will disturb these waters until
I am banished or beloved.
Tunnel vision on a Wednesday night.
Jun 21, 2012
Jun 21, 2012 at 2:26 AM UTC
"Five directions of space"
Oneflower.
Many thorns.
Pain and love.
Creation of life.
Spreading love through movemant.
actions simply understandable.
Erasing words and madifest them into rythms.
Don't loose your passion for the flower you grab with your thoughts.
Themind to has five directions of light.
Five ways of expressing your truue self.
Art
Music
Dancing
Poetry
Martial arts.
Happy
sad
angry
worried
Scared
"Eye-I"
Its a beutifull world of the sight given by the lord "I-Eye".
Because I was brought to this world by a thought of my mother in the dark.
A spark of lightfirelove.
While my grandfather and grandmother lived.
As now they are the moon and the sun.
I was the last one seen by their eyes.
as I stayed in there minds and they took my image withtheir eyes.
In their open mindss
Able to visualize.
The mind is in a different dimention.
It can do anything.
"Destroying creations"
Destroy everything that creates ideas.
They just lead to destruction.
Worry about your intentions.
Forget your inventions.
Don't fall in temptation.
Godd bless this nation.
Ful of determination.
Flowing throiugh dimensions.
Travling through mountains.
Full of motivation.
reaching the inovations.
No misinterpretation.
As you start your reincarsination.
Trhough peace and meditation.
We will conme to our liberation.
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 8:55 AM UTC
Application of misinformation
Falsify a failed nation,
Eradication of all creation
Misinterpretation
Of representation
Deny the station
Granted by occupation
And the inhalation
Of justification
No prerequisite information
Just accumulation
No moderation,
Their determination
Through stimulation
Cultural ************
Communal degradation
Societal desecration,
Dehumanizing revocation,
Worldly humiliation,
Mortal sterilization
Never achieving mobilization
Lack of communication
Excelling in vile persuasion,
Proponents of procreation
Birthing digitization,
Destroy civilization,
Indications of adoration
Isolation in delineation,
Irrational indexation,
Fluctuating indignation,
No innovation,
Divination
Retaliation,
Immolation,
False ovation,
Lacking limitations,
Contextual intonation,
Divine fabrication,
Private publication,
Evolving fornication,
Give me extermination,
Notwithstanding annexation
Of dismaying oxidation,
Of valued perpetuation,
Global mass-castration,
Redundant rhetoric, dictation,
A donation, a dilation, a fixation,
An annotation of fibrillation,
We are personification
Of Contamination
Through globalization
Praising idolization
And finalization
Through **********
No pragmatic exoneration,
In all frustration
We see not utilization
Nor stabilization,
Fearful implications
Of wayward stations,
Surplus mutilations,
Seeking militarization
Of worthless nations,
No conservation,
Just excavation
Of the population
******** on education,
Spitting on graduation,
No validation of aspiration,
Indoctrination of baptization
Mitigating litigation,
murdering habitation,
Quelling all vegetation
We will end in radiation
Through faulty navigation,
Abdication and abnegation,
All worldly agitation
Leads us to expiration,
Self-made annihilation.
There was never an end in sight,
We’re lost, and hope is a lie.
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 8:14 PM UTC
The parking lot beeps know how to creep,
Creating the jingle and jangle
That hit her with the smooth cutting angle,
The rhymes and the wishes
Intruding her like the farmer farming fishes,
Pound and slit until she can’t fully handle,
With strength in her arms burning out like the candle
Once lit as her ribs crunch from the pull of the mador,
Crushing her with Frankenstein's failure far greater,
Her eyes missed more misinterpretation
Of her admission with intense hallucination,
While the divorce of her lighter burns the constrained homicide,
Although it didn’t stem from her sister’s suicide,
Contradiction?
She’d say it was an addiction,
Death isn't what she grew up to fear,
What’s that? There’s more despair?
Is it the systemic collapse that she can’t bear?
Trunks click open with a cluster of blunts,
Puffing the herb anytime she wants,
Insanity spawns a circumstantial sport,
Which she crystallized quenching some support,
From the bubble of her family she couldn't help but pop,
While begging the janitor to mop
The puddle of horrific insensual
Desires that end up so sensual,
Sprinting to the finish line in her own ordeal pace,
Winning an irreplaceable
Prize for finishing in fifth place,
The doppelganger can’t even comment
On the records of her CD retching as she continues to *****
There she blows before you know,
‘Tis no way they could tiptoe
Around this drear deep-end **********
Aug 7, 2017
Aug 7, 2017 at 2:08 PM UTC
This poem is for the girls and guys in limbo
Somewhere between love and lust
Up the dark road
Inside the cold box
This ones for you.
For u sweet dreamer
For the girls lusting for the boys who have only followed the trail of perfection
This is for the nerdy guys
Afraid of the way she flips her hair
And his own shadow
This is for the friend zone
Those who tip toe cautiously
Reading mixed signs
And deciphering smoke signals
This is for you
This is for heartachers
And the people that will never know there own doing.
This is for the girls who say no
And for the boys who don't know there power
This is for I love you's
Whispered under breath
This is for the crushes
And the people that love them
This is for the traded glances
And the misinterpretation
This for the hours wasted
And tears that have fallen
Fallen long enough to build you an ocean
Like a mote
to place around your heart
This ones for you dark forecasters
And glass half fullers
This ones for the poets and the phone calls
This is for the obsessing
The morris code blessing
And this ones for the confession
Those that take there pride and tuck it between their legs
This is for you
Stand tall
Tall enough to crane your neck to see the horizon
Because this may look different on the other side.
This is for the hopefuls
Those who love and still believe
This is for the love lyrics written
And those that repeat there songs
This is for you.
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 6:28 AM UTC
Beaty eyes
they stare into me.
Beaty heart
I feel the shake.
Beady sweat
between brows gather.
Beaty bodies
we feed the anxiety.
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 3:37 AM UTC
close
like next to me
emotionally touching
I love you
close
like a door
slammed on an argument
a last word
finishing a relationship
ending a meeting
how funny the English language
so much room for misinterpretation
so much scope for joy
or crashing
disappointment
Oct 13, 2022
Oct 13, 2022 at 2:01 PM UTC
first contact scenario
close encounters of the third kind
well how many
kinds are there anyway
a peaceful delegation
or an alien invasion
because alien we are
under threat of war
your burning desires
my best intentions
a clash
of unspeakable dimensions
this is not a game
we are
one misinterpretation
away
from mutual annihilation
you’d better tread lightly
I know I will
Jun 29, 2017
Jun 29, 2017 at 1:29 AM UTC
I believe the highest hopes and aspirations of humankind to be divine,
and I believe the epitome of Divinity to be True Love — Love in Truth.
Yet, in that we so universally long for love that’s true and truth that’s loving,
while so rarely attaining or embodying them, attests to the fact that
they find their Source outside of ourselves. Similarly, our greatest potential —
the Ideal itself, the capacity to even conceive of it, the desire to strive for it,
and the motivation to do so, must also ALL have their Source outside of ourselves.
It follows that our longing for The Divine is due to Divinity longing for us first —
the True nature of Love being to share ‘Itself’ graciously and generously.
Thus, True Divinity can only be The God of Love, by both nature and definition.
To believe Divinity to be intrinsically Good is merely a matter of self-consistency:
And for God to have Goodwill toward Man is perfectly natural by logical extension.
To further acknowledge that a Truly Loving nature — consistent with Divinity —
does not permit so much as even intentions of an un-loving or an un-true nature,
affirms that God is inherently trustworthy. We can thereby be assured that an
attitude of trust and a disposition to believe in the Love of God is very reasonable:
To do so has proven to be our most promising hope of our highest aspirations.
Any seeming contradiction to the veracity of Divine Virtue —
in theory or in history— can only be reasonably attributed to
misinterpretation and/or misrepresentation of God’s nature and intention.
[“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only-begotten Son, so that whosoever believes in Him
should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn it,
but that the world may be saved through Him” Father-God wants all of His lost children to return!
And “Behold what level of love the Father has given us that we should be called the children of God.”
So, “For me there is only one God, the Father, from Whom all things came and for Whom I live;
and there is only one Lord, Jesus Christ, thru Whom all things came and thru Whom we live.”
Dec 18, 2010
Dec 18, 2010 at 3:22 PM UTC
Hatred in a misinterpretation of what
people think I linger in. I have no aversion
to this thought process, I just choose what
I know is true.
That understanding of facts where those who
delve to regurgitate inconsistences upon myself.
Why do you wish to ascend your misgivings on
me when like a viper all that is bitten upon is untruths.
Repugnance on a belief where I have non, free thought
facts and realistic virtues are what my life is based upon.
But you spite me as I am not held back I reject your
inaccuracies that have taken over a cognitive thought.
Deities are like clothes so many have been and then
like fickle thought, kicked to the curb for the
newest trendiest misgivings of whom to blame for
what we have subdued on ourselves no other to blame.
*"I have objections to inaccurate speculation
where truth just doesn't seem to connect on thought,*
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 11:56 AM UTC
We live life each and every day
Wond’ring when we’ll come to say
I am not afraid
Spiders, clowns, nightmares
All seem so cruel, unfair,
Not to me
I fear not death
Nor the smell of my breath,
I fear people
Not thoughts or opinions
Or loss of dominion,
But unconsciousness
I fear misinterpretation
And the discrimination
Of my voice
Maybe odd maybe strange
And someday I may change,
But not today.
Call me different-weird
Your words are only smeared,
For I am me.
I am the me that screams
Past all of my dreams,
At my reflection
Nobody else hears it
‘cause I’m scared to admit,
They won’t realize.
I continue to block away
More and more, day after day
And it doesn't help
Growing vulnerable, weaker
Tying, retying my sneaker,
Living with fear another day.
-David Rombouts-
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 12:43 AM UTC