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"mistrusting" poems
i hope, i try to hope --to believe-- believe me, i try to trust in trust i think i feel, or think or know there isn't any code that satisfies though maybe there's an uber-uber-ultra-meta code beyond what even codes can mean? meh. i enjoy the hypothetical, Paris in a bottle, fairness for all sentient beings, faith in nothing comprehensible, an English teapot circles Jove from afar or all that's uncontrollable, for some all-purpose good to decorate the brackish, ocean truth. and uncertain science is another case, mistrusting all, testing daring thoughts with razor sight, to sharpen speech and challenge all to flex the truth into a fitness ground on which to stand, objective stern and method doubt to peer and scan the detail bare, denude minutiae into ever smaller parts, expanse of raw and empty space attuned, to vibrant nothingness rebound muons, gluons, tauons, quarks and bosons --Higgs the boon for popular appeal, to bridge or monumentalize the science-mystic gap appall the ghosts that Galileo keeps for company i enjoy the fantasy, dragons in a flask, perfect love for all, dancing in the dark in joy regardless of the shutter thicken dust
0
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 12:39 AM UTC
trust?
swallowing her aching pride with every step she takes trying to forget, although her lonely heart it breaks her everlasting hatred for the man who left a void in her world, forever shifting, unprepared to be destroyed her eyes, once glistening jewels turned to a bleak mistrusting stare their depths expose the scars left by a man who did not care. remembering the pain, the fearsome look within his eyes the man she thought she loved became the monster she despised her worthlessness confirmed with every single blow he dealt the hurt within her heart was numb, the physical she felt a horrifying calamity, some days she wished to die the violent mental thoughts left by a man who made her cry haunted by his judgments, heartless words rang in her ears whilst her soul was crushed she never let him see her tears a sordid satisfaction from the misery he saw from the woman who adored him as he broke her to the core but then it reached a point where though her self-belief was wrecked the words that once were daggers suddenly had no effect no longer did his voice destroy the stillness in her mind her time was not yet over; she could leave it all behind a woman who had suffered for so long, without a voice decided for herself she had the right to make a choice the bruises that imprinted, purple wounds left on her skin she’d escape the hell he’d made her, filled with violence and sin her eyes cold windows to her heart, devoid of such emotion a stranger to a reckless love of honest plain devotion her body bears the evidence, her mind is crystal clear forget about the hatred and keep close what you hold dear while repulsion made her weary, she stood still and bit her tongue no longer wept for what once was, the man who made her strong.
0
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 5:43 PM UTC
strength.
swallowing her aching pride with every step she takes trying to forget, although her lonely heart it breaks her everlasting hatred for the man who left a void in her world, forever shifting, unprepared to be destroyed her eyes, once glistening jewels turned to a bleak mistrusting stare their depths expose the scars left by a man who did not care. remembering the pain, the fearsome look within his eyes the man she thought she loved became the monster she despised her worthlessness confirmed with every single blow he dealt the hurt within her heart was numb, the physical she felt a horrifying calamity, some days she wished to die the violent mental thoughts left by a man who made her cry haunted by his judgments, heartless words rang in her ears whilst her soul was crushed she never let him see her tears a sordid satisfaction from the misery he saw from the woman who adored him as he broke her to the core but then it reached a point where though her self-belief was wrecked the words that once were daggers suddenly had no effect no longer did his voice destroy the stillness in her mind her time was not yet over; she could leave it all behind a woman who had suffered for so long, without a voice decided for herself she had the right to make a choice the bruises that imprinted, purple wounds left on her skin she’d escape the hell he’d made her, filled with violence and sin her eyes cold windows to her heart, devoid of such emotion a stranger to a reckless love of honest plain devotion her body bears the evidence, her mind is crystal clear forget about the hatred and keep close what you hold dear while repulsion made her weary, she stood still and bit her tongue no longer wept for what once was, the man who made her strong.
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30
Pondering if I can be forgiven and free Knowing I deserve to be drowned in the sea Searching for something to assuage the pain Hoping out of this something beautiful I gain. Mistrusting of people around me everywhere People only curse; not love, not care Bewildered why I must go through life alone With paralyzing silence and no friend to phone. Yearning to break free of my destructive addictions Rebuking Satan's false and furtive jurisdictions I embrace the crucifixion and fall to my knee Beholding my King who died to set me free. Then kneeling at the cross, the sky breaks with dawn My tears and my pain are surprisingly gone As the Son bursts forth in glorious light Obliterating the dark and malevolent night.
0
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 7:20 PM UTC
Hopeful Struggle
Round 1: New Life Entered abruptly, this world out of the caretaker’s womb astonished by the awe of unusual surroundings so unlike the comfort of the nine month pacifier images fade in, then out, and in, then out once again feel this empty sensation, deep inside the belly initially a murmur, then a monstrous growl shall this need drive the emerging beast… Round 2: Survive Astounded still, by the incentives from the senses nonetheless, comprehension builds mostly from stumbling and the consequences of actions may honor or condemn imitating and discovering, touching and tasting, the wants hear this curious whisper, deep inside the mind initially a hum, then a vicarious voice shall this be the song of a destined course… Round 3: First Love Twinkled eyes, with the melody of hypnotizing admiration wanting so fierce, the heart skips several beats beauty so pure and deep, the skin becomes totally immaterial can’t eat, can’t sleep, want to caress this haunting dream but wait, maybe the feelings lack mutual perception then to experience the piercing silence of rejection shall this fear define the character… Round 4: Nuptials Exchanged vows, two mates to share eternity as one soul to nurture one another with the food of selfless care instead, demons from the spirit’s dark side arose mistrusting and abusing, suffocating and killing, the love no room, no place for compassion and understanding only the refuge for a hollowed indifference shall this be the start of a fragile heart… Round 5: Bounce Back Continued hope, for the chance to champion a cause to humbly honor the truth in self and in others reckless to the tangible constraints weighing on the mind to decease, to desist, the will to life’s tribulations the blows come and go, a jab here, a jab there striking with unforeseen yet uncanny precision shall this bell ring in the final round…
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Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 10:03 PM UTC
Fighter
Round 1: New Life Entered abruptly, this world out of the caretaker’s womb astonished by the awe of unusual surroundings so unlike the comfort of the nine month pacifier images fade in, then out, and in, then out once again feel this empty sensation, deep inside the belly initially a murmur, then a monstrous growl shall this need drive the emerging beast… Round 2: Survive Astounded still, by the incentives from the senses nonetheless, comprehension builds mostly from stumbling and the consequences of actions may honor or condemn imitating and discovering, touching and tasting, the wants hear this curious whisper, deep inside the mind initially a hum, then a vicarious voice shall this be the song of a destined course… Round 3: First Love Twinkled eyes, with the melody of hypnotizing admiration wanting so fierce, the heart skips several beats beauty so pure and deep, the skin becomes totally immaterial can’t eat, can’t sleep, want to caress this haunting dream but wait, maybe the feelings lack mutual perception then to experience the piercing silence of rejection shall this fear define the character… Round 4: Nuptials Exchanged vows, two mates to share eternity as one soul to nurture one another with the food of selfless care instead, demons from the spirit’s dark side arose mistrusting and abusing, suffocating and killing, the love no room, no place for compassion and understanding only the refuge for a hollowed indifference shall this be the start of a fragile heart… Round 5: Bounce Back Continued hope, for the chance to champion a cause to humbly honor the truth in self and in others reckless to the tangible constraints weighing on the mind to decease, to desist, the will to life’s tribulations the blows come and go, a jab here, a jab there striking with unforeseen yet uncanny precision shall this bell ring in the final round…
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40
At low of night she strokes Familiar tastes exquisite, And quietly invokes The spirit of laureate -- An orphic instrument Unfit to take for granted. It’s profound atonement Stirs in her heart despondent. Her fragile shell’s embrace Of wood and gut and metal Point out her shallow race And weakness fundamental. Yet all the night she moils, Mistrusting augmentation, And secretly despoils The overzealous beacon. -- Kerry Herrmann
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Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 5:20 PM UTC
The Violinist
Came I hither with all the gold possess'd, Came I hither with all the wisdom gain'd, Came I hither with all the truth and jest, Beauty, health, kindness, luck, thou'd'st have complain'd That I came hither with an underhand Desire of something greater thus exchang'd, Unable to conceive or understand How one who offers free is not derang'd. Came I hither with all the gold possess'd, And came I bearing rubies and pearls, too, Came I hither bearing all the rest To thine own mortal self, still erring true; Came I hither, and ask'd nothing, giving All that I have, and more, and still I err, For the Lord ask'd nothing of the living, But sacrifice is matter of a cur. Mistrusting as you do, with sense, I see, Love's made not for this world, nor I for thee.
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Feb 17, 2024
Feb 17, 2024 at 7:24 PM UTC
On giving freely
she barged so uninvited in my space, so futile were my palms and outstretched arms, forbidding her from entering my place, mistrusting her that she may bring me harm, rebuttals--counterpunches to my claims that she was just another soulless ghost-- had penetrated fences, and her aims to win my heart succeeded more than most, but here we are almost a year from then, i've pushed her off, she shares her heart with one not me, but one who seems above all men, and i have lost where once i thought i'd won, now i'm the one who's barging in her space, my own rebuttals falling in disgrace (C)2012, Christos Rigakos
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Jul 9, 2012
Jul 9, 2012 at 12:35 PM UTC
she barged so uninvited in my space
Each scar on my wrist has a name, but to keep it secret I’ll list them as letters to avoid giving them the fame: Q- Quivering lips didn’t keep you from taking my innocence. The horrible sound of my legs clenched and pants unzipped. D- Depression ruled your life and slowly taught mine the only way to feel is to feel nothing more than unreal.   Z- Zombified eyes made me realize you only wanted what was between my thighs. Objectified and used, it didn’t matter to you. R- Robbed my heart of just about everything. Unfaithfulness and lack of loyalty led to my mistrusting.   A- Aggression isn’t a sign of affection. To pretend is a hard act but to defend is even harder. These are the five people that led me to scar, and if they read this, they would know exactly who they are.
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Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 9:11 AM UTC
Scarred wrists and Tormented Bliss
Neither too serious nor too frivolous- neither too optimistic nor too pessimistic- neither too spendthrift nor too deep in thrift- neither too trusting nor too mistrusting - neither over-eating nor under-eating- neither too confident nor too diffident - neither too ambitious nor being unambitious - neither over-planning nor under-planning- neither too careful nor being a reckless fool- this above serves as the Golden Rule
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Feb 9, 2025
Feb 9, 2025 at 8:50 PM UTC
The Golden Rule
A man of this life knows his story too well, he walks the streets leg one leg two at just the right speed: moving at a glide because it's gray outside, the frozen tide of the open cut concrete is hard underneath the soles of his worn shoes, they hold a pair of dart like feet that walk through the jagged edges and changing pathways, talking in tongues about lurid destinies of lacking destination, a babbling that never reaches an ending, the two are crooked and bleeding but they always keep through this crowded street that the man in the palm of his right hand has learned to hold a “hello” for, stretching far from his arm it is quiet and scared, so often invisible but hoping, not hopeful, that someone will see beneath its creased, mistrusting, bare naked and often mistaken surface, but with it is a perfect fist strapped like a puppet to this tacit brother in the man's left pocket, fingerless and mastered to smash into bits what may be caught by the other cupped misfit, whether friend or enemy they are always mistaken, so the beating makes them scream in victory, horrendously and harmoniously sprayed in the liquids leaving Whatever's seam, “whatever” they seem, thoughtless of the backlash only meant for the brain, it solely knows and takes the blame for the horrid red stain, trying to love when the brother habitually frames the other into maiming another who is all alone DON'T! it wants to re-aim the darts that leave on pavement straight for misleading paths WAIT! It planned to create a noose for the unstable connections between those lost A's and the angry B and that fretful C but ANY! Thing can happen, and ANY! thing will, ANY! One would really help, and now there's not much LONGER! Till you truly understand, The very end is very close for that man - he is ******
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May 2, 2010
May 2, 2010 at 5:59 PM UTC
A.rm L.eg L.eg A.rm H.ead
A man of this life knows his story too well, he walks the streets leg one leg two at just the right speed: moving at a glide because it's gray outside, the frozen tide of the open cut concrete is hard underneath the soles of his worn shoes, they hold a pair of dart like feet that walk through the jagged edges and changing pathways, talking in tongues about lurid destinies of lacking destination, a babbling that never reaches an ending, the two are crooked and bleeding but they always keep through this crowded street that the man in the palm of his right hand has learned to hold a “hello” for, stretching far from his arm it is quiet and scared, so often invisible but hoping, not hopeful, that someone will see beneath its creased, mistrusting, bare naked and often mistaken surface, but with it is a perfect fist strapped like a puppet to this tacit brother in the man's left pocket, fingerless and mastered to smash into bits what may be caught by the other cupped misfit, whether friend or enemy they are always mistaken, so the beating makes them scream in victory, horrendously and harmoniously sprayed in the liquids leaving Whatever's seam, “whatever” they seem, thoughtless of the backlash only meant for the brain, it solely knows and takes the blame for the horrid red stain, trying to love when the brother habitually frames the other into maiming another who is all alone DON'T! it wants to re-aim the darts that leave on pavement straight for misleading paths WAIT! It planned to create a noose for the unstable connections between those lost A's and the angry B and that fretful C but ANY! Thing can happen, and ANY! thing will, ANY! One would really help, and now there's not much LONGER! Till you truly understand, The very end is very close for that man - he is ******
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95
Soft heavy shade of unrelenting mischevious boredom Killing off the weak of our youth Plauging the soft minded soft handed rich pocketed crickets of the Earth Sounding off from a siren that is coated in oil In blood In computer symetry that if shown to a child Would just begin to cry Have you no souls? Have you no heart underneath that starched shirt? Where in ourselves is the need to **** oneself Off like that? Winding away the hours spending earning balancing mistrusting Saying that one is learning but towards what? Ignorance is not bliss but a black corner that one is now blinded by The shadow drawings are illuminated and cause glee But the shadow makers are the evil ones Men and women behind dashes of black ink Memo books scribbled through every line Tucked away for absolute Americanized security America...how has our trust faltered so far and so fast? Will we will gain it back?... America... Are you there?
0
Jul 6, 2011
Jul 6, 2011 at 3:16 PM UTC
Question Towards the Dark
Do You Bore Yourself? Do you rent the space you’re standing in, owning nothing in the end but default? Do you recycle words until their utterance fails, mistrusting your ability to say what’s right? Do you hedge your bets, never going all in for fear of losing the very thing you haven’t got? Do you count the days, as tedium destroys spontaneity and all energy drains from your lifeless form? Do You Bore Yourself? (Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)
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Mar 1, 2019
Mar 1, 2019 at 2:13 PM UTC
Your Lifeless Form
Your plane is boarding, got to cross the ocean all alone My heart is stone You need to figure out the things that plague you here at home I'll carry on Sometimes, it's one thing And next time, it's nothing It's more than mistrusting It ends up just crushing me Stop with the fighting I know it's the right thing I won't let you do this We have to get through this So, say something, I'm not holding back Before the scene we made goes and fades to black ‘cause I can't wait while you think this through We don't have endless time, remember who left who ‘cause I won't wait, won't wait for you Your lifeless eyes don't hold the Same desire anymore, I can't ignore So long I've wondered, but I think now I know You're not coming home Sometimes, it's one thing And next time, it's nothing It's more than mistrusting It ends up just crushing me Stop with the fighting I know it's the right thing I won't let you do this We have to get through this So, say something, I'm not holding back Before the scene we made goes and fades to black ‘Cause I can't wait while you think this through We don't have endless time, remember who left who ‘Cause I won't wait, won't wait for you Put my heart in your hands Committed my whole life to you And all you had to say See you in a few days But days turn into months This isn't what you promised me I've gotta let you go Or just find another way So, say something, I'm not holding back (I needed time to work it out alone)
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Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 1:14 PM UTC
For You
my mistrusting eyes throw stones undeservingly in your direction they're from an old case that should have been dropped years ago why i haven't been capable of shaking it off im not entirely sure but no matter you seem entirely capable of doing so for me
0
Oct 5, 2016
Oct 5, 2016 at 8:56 AM UTC
hello there
Born, Under a silent indigo sky, In the shadow of the forest, On the shore of the Pacific Ocean, Born from the bones of earth, Voice from the wind and deep sea, Crowned an eagle feather and fire. My bird spirit asked me to believe, messages only meant for me — “Journey to the golden sun, Meet the shadow, Save your child, Become one.” “From a sea of blood, A monster will rise, Unleashing a storm beneath the surface of your skin. Growing tired and weary, Mistrusting winds pushing you forward, Fighting against currents, Allow the grey skinned creature to carry you to an unknown shore.” Born, A warrior, Gifted a life determined to confront darkness, Wisdom and medicine to heal tribes, Power to embrace death and love, The slayer of monsters, Child of the golden sun, I am one.
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Feb 17, 2020
Feb 17, 2020 at 11:21 PM UTC
Woman Warrior
Fool me once Shame on me Fool me twice And leave me with scars forever unhealed
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Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 9:22 PM UTC
Mistrusting