"nontheless" poems
You know you were abusive right?
Honestly worse than your father
You strangled me with words
And left me riddled with questions and scars
Now the scars I applied myself
I had to create some physical evidence
Of the torture you left
And speaking of leaving
You left me
Which I'm happy to say
No longer distresses me
Even though you still won't adress me
Apparently
You go mute when I try to speak
Nontheless
I am no longer obessesing
But sadly
You learned to obess over me
It's obvious you started watching me
Amature
Cover your trail
You're immaturity makes your frail
But you were abusive
Though not anymore more
I finally have picked myself up from the floor
You see
I found the good in goodbye
And I don't crave you anymore
So goodbye abuser
And Thank you
For leaving me once more
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 10:36 PM UTC
jesus came back in 1945 in egypt
with a shepherd
digging the scrolls up:
the nag hammadi library...
the jewish historian josephus wrote
about a false egyptian prophet
~2000 years ago,
dot dot dot...
well... dot dot dot;
counter argument?
in defiance the defence rests its case
with a semi-detached and a roast dinner
every sunday until death do us part.
sorted then!
*** change's a bonus on top of
that balancing act to keep glogotha relevant
in terms of impregnation above the interest
of bethlehem to orientate
east with 3 splinters aimed at gift:
take east and you're looking at a linear
two dimensional realm of preceding allocation...
preceding allocation of the mirage that's
a recurrent but nontheless a receding mark
of served colour...
**** we all missed the 2nd coming in 1945...
the holocaust got the historians clamouring
for the columbus prize - as that famous hip-replacement
for the jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way!
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 11:24 PM UTC
Fairy tales are for girls!
That seems to be the staple
But who do you think
Wrote these timless fables?
Not just the women
Conjured these epic tales
Of princesses and beasts
How the hero always prevails
It's the men who want to hear
Her desperate song from the tower
We want to rescue her
Before her witching hour
Watch her exquisite face
As she sleeps within her shell
Knowing it's his destiny
To rid her of the evil spell
He wants to be her Knight
Shielder, Protector, Defender,
Prince nontheless
Every girl wants her Hero
But the guys need his Princess.
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 3:34 PM UTC
There are small galaxies in salt grains
And sandbags in superclusters.
An arm extends from the minor and one punches from the major.
In a light state of being both little and big,
one hand tells me I'm major
Another tells others they're minor.
Both hands nontheless hit hard.
One much like a thron bush
The other like a lotus flower.
Neither major, both minor.
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 2:39 PM UTC
"you loved me for a year
I might not have known it, but you loved me.
We would talk and talk for hours,
Hold our breath until we could see each other
Over skype of course, but see each other
Nontheless.
Then you did something stupid. You made mistakes.
Painful mistakes. Mistakes that costed trust.
I got angry, I laid into you with words that cut you deep, but I didn't care.
If I did, I didn't show you.
You tried so hard to make it right. You said you'd do anything,
Anything for me.
I still turned up my nose.
You pleaded and begged, you wanted so bad to fix what we had
But still I refused.
And I keep refusing."
You, after so long of thinking yourself the victim,
Have become aggressor.
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 6:43 PM UTC
your heartstrings are becoming more apparent.
all the swooning and looming in summoning forth your own beautiful musicians to repeat the melodies you once had with me.
i cannot bear to witness you seeking such wonders to tremble what you know is immortal
nontheless, i too wonder to this day, why you're still searching for me in every woman
Jul 29, 2021
Jul 29, 2021 at 4:29 AM UTC
There's dirt under my fingernails
There's pen marks on my hand
I don't know how they got there
I just don't understand
I'm curled up in a corner
My stomach is tied in knots
There's something crawling in my throat
I can't connect the dots
I've lost the feeling in my arm
From clutching it to my head
Crying up the distance
That they should have made instead
Faintly in the backdrop
They simmer in something mean
I wash my hand with soapy water
But the marks can still be seen
All I hear are glasses
They smash towords the floor
All I smell is putrid gas
From the night out just before
I'm getting kind of sleepy
And we're past the midnight mark
But it's difficult to dream
When the dreams you made are dark
But nontheless I'm sleeping
I move but make no sound
And I wake up in the morning
There's empty bottles all around
I don't know what happened to you
Because the laughter falls like sand
But there's dirt under my fingernails
And pen marks on my hands.
- Anisah Mariah
Mar 16, 2020
Mar 16, 2020 at 1:11 PM UTC
The Sun sees me at my best,
but the Moon....
the Moon knows all my secrets,
and loves me nontheless....
Feb 22, 2019
Feb 22, 2019 at 5:08 PM UTC
The other night she had a dream
A vision vivid and supreme
A lucid dream upon a beam
That an Angel came to play
Although they only met that day
She knew instinctively their paths were crossed
A mutual truth on Hearts embossed
Where have you been 'til now: Lost
She's shut off because Love had cost
Unable to reach her Heart's fruition
Adding to the weight of her contrition
Dampening her Heart's ambition
She dwells deep in the superstition
That her intentions are poisonous, impure
And doesn't know what is hurting more
That she fixated when she adored
Or lost dignity when she implored
Hurling herself at an enchantment
Prisoner of passion's encampment
Destined to never find contentment
Her passion has no control, no government
But the Angel perceives her artful love
Singing for spectres that soar above
An image on which the mind can rove
The spirit is their treasure trove
A paradise and kingdom it is
A sanctuary, enveloped in bliss
Touched by Lover's kiss
No words, but glances, shared in tryst
An understanding nontheless reached
A yearning mind that wants to be teached
By Love, to alleviate that Heart ached
Her destiny and fate have been watched
But with Angel she wants to rebel
And stick her fingers up to hell
To fathom Love and in there dwell
Can think of nothing quite as swell
They traverse the wild, unchartered tracks
Find what their spirit lacks
For divinest bliss they have the knack
No more feeling beaten blue and black
Speechless with Love for Angel's soul
She is enchanted, enamoured, enthralled
The conspiracy her mind appalled
Felt as though her spirit felled
But the music of better way had knelled
And towards it she had, free, sailed
Heralding it in her music, a dream she hailed
Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 8:57 PM UTC
Affliated with her father's affliction of abandonment,she embraced the love of an absent father. He diminished, oblivious to the passage
of time. Leaving her with yearnings of fatherly affection,however his devotion to fatherly duties wavered.
For two decades on no account was he solicitous about the welfare of his daughter. She seeked for his love and support,the lack of affirmation left her with piercings in her heart.
Nontheless,she found adoration that of a loving and kindhearted man. He's warmth love was ample to patch the wounds of her pierced heart. He pampered her with fatherly love,through him she got the satisfaction of calling someone "father". It's been long since she's known that feeling, like a soft blanket on a night when the wind howls.
He becomes her mentor,her Braveman and the epitome of her happiness.
Otja Tjipee Uanivi 17th October 2018
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 1:17 PM UTC
Woman in the mirror
I glimpse at a blurred and monotonous reflection. Visions of washed out dreams,the hope of refuge initially proved a mirage. She stares at me with a gloomy face,eyes sunken with unfathomable emotion the gleam that usually flickered in her eyes has now become peculiar. She has become surrounded by
an air of melancholy ushered by rebuff . Things have fallen apart. She looks at the craks of the mirror which resemble her abyss heart. Pensive I glare in contempt scrutinizing this woman who stares at
me with a faint ghost of a smile and an ocean in her eyes,but little do they know that these tears keep them afloat,a wounded healer she is.For months
I've chased rainbows trying to recognise her. I've clutched at straws to chase those washed out dreams. In the midst of 2018 she's lost herself,she's become a hostess to desolation,despair and trauma. Nontheless,all she pursues more than anything is euphoria and peace.
Tjipenandjambi Uanivi
Jan 25, 2019
Jan 25, 2019 at 5:47 PM UTC