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"nothing" poems
Ladies and gentleman skinny and scout I'll tell you a tale I know nothing about The admission is free so pay at the door Now pull out a chair and sit on the floor On one bright day in the middle of the night Two dead boys got up to fight Back to back they faced each other Drew their swords and shot each other The blind man came to see fair play The mute man came to shout hooray The deaf policeman heard the noise And came to stop those two dead boys He lived on the corner in the middle of the block In a two story house on a vacant lot A man with no legs came walking by And kicked the lawman in his thigh He crashed through a wall without making a sound Into a dry creek bed and suddenly drowned A long black hearse came to cart him away But he ran for his life and is still gone today I watched from the corner of the table The only eyewitness to facts of my fable If you doubt my lies are true Just ask the blind man, he saw it too
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Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 1:31 PM UTC
Two dead boys (My favorite poem of all time!)
I want you to know one thing. You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me. Well, now, if little by little you stop loving me I shall stop loving you little by little. If suddenly you forget me do not look for me, for I shall already have forgotten you. If you think it long and mad, the wind of banners that passes through my life, and you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots, remember that on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms and my roots will set off to seek another land. But if each day, each hour, you feel that you are destined for me with implacable sweetness, if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me, ah my love, ah my own, in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, my love feeds on your love, beloved, and as long as you live it will be in your arms without leaving mine
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415.6k
If You Forget Me
Sometimes you open yourself up to a person because you feel and believe that they're different and maybe this time they won't break your heart and that your love will be requitted. So you go out on a limb and open up so much of yourself to this person. Things that you're afraid to tell others about because of fear of being judged or rejected. But there's just something about this person that allows you to tell them everything. You become so comfortable in the presence of that person that you openly admit your flaws, you don't hide it. You just completely lose yourself in love and in the thought and concept of being loved, of being in a relationship and of being with someone that you can be yourself with. The idea of that person just completely excites you and everything about them makes you happy. Seeing them and hearing their voice just helps you in an inexplicable manner and being with them is an emotion of complete comfortability on its  own. You learn to love this person and you accept their flaws and differences. You accept how they might not necessarily love eating McDonalds as much as you do or they are crazy about sci-fi movies where you can't even get yourself past watching a chick flick. But that's just it, you don't mind. You don't mind because love is about sacrifices. Its about sacrificing your weekly episode of The Vampire Diaries to watch the most recent sports updates. Because you'd rather lose the argument than to lose the person. You'd sacrifice a part of your daily routine all for love. The worst part is that nothing is guaranteed. You're not guaranteed how long you will be in a relationship with this person. You're not guaranteed complete happiness and you're not guaranteed that things are going to be perfect. You just have to trust this person and have faith. Believe the best and hope that everything will work out for the. Best. Believe that even if you break up with this person, that you're going to be ok. Everything is going to be ok, and that new beginnings are perfectly acceptable. Believe that you're going to overcome heartbreak of any kind. You just have to believe that someone out there is looking for someone like you. What others see Wrong in you just might be the exact thing that will make someone else fall in love with you. And you need to be realistic. Not all relationships last forever. Some relationships are there for lessons and experiences. So that very person that you completely open yourself up to, can break your heart. It could be during or even after the relationship. But its all part of life I guess. You'll never know how to love someone wholeheartedly if you haven't been hurt before. You just have to turn your heartbreak in to something positive, make the most out of your situation. See the light in the darkness. But learn to deal with things too. Find closure in what happened to you and don't leave a relationship with unfinished business. Because unfinished business will have to be finished sooner or later, and I think sooner is better. Allow yourself time to heal too. Opening yourself up to someone that much can hurt you a lot, and everything you had with that person will be completely lost in an instant. And you're gonna need to come to terms with that. Remember that what's meant to be , will be. Love, is a complicated thing, and you're never quite sure how things could possibly turn out to be. You're just gonna go out on a limb each time hoping for the best and patiently waiting for your happily ever after with a special person.
0
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 1:00 AM UTC
My prepared speech for school- Love.
Sometimes you open yourself up to a person because you feel and believe that they're different and maybe this time they won't break your heart and that your love will be requitted. So you go out on a limb and open up so much of yourself to this person. Things that you're afraid to tell others about because of fear of being judged or rejected. But there's just something about this person that allows you to tell them everything. You become so comfortable in the presence of that person that you openly admit your flaws, you don't hide it. You just completely lose yourself in love and in the thought and concept of being loved, of being in a relationship and of being with someone that you can be yourself with. The idea of that person just completely excites you and everything about them makes you happy. Seeing them and hearing their voice just helps you in an inexplicable manner and being with them is an emotion of complete comfortability on its  own. You learn to love this person and you accept their flaws and differences. You accept how they might not necessarily love eating McDonalds as much as you do or they are crazy about sci-fi movies where you can't even get yourself past watching a chick flick. But that's just it, you don't mind. You don't mind because love is about sacrifices. Its about sacrificing your weekly episode of The Vampire Diaries to watch the most recent sports updates. Because you'd rather lose the argument than to lose the person. You'd sacrifice a part of your daily routine all for love. The worst part is that nothing is guaranteed. You're not guaranteed how long you will be in a relationship with this person. You're not guaranteed complete happiness and you're not guaranteed that things are going to be perfect. You just have to trust this person and have faith. Believe the best and hope that everything will work out for the. Best. Believe that even if you break up with this person, that you're going to be ok. Everything is going to be ok, and that new beginnings are perfectly acceptable. Believe that you're going to overcome heartbreak of any kind. You just have to believe that someone out there is looking for someone like you. What others see Wrong in you just might be the exact thing that will make someone else fall in love with you. And you need to be realistic. Not all relationships last forever. Some relationships are there for lessons and experiences. So that very person that you completely open yourself up to, can break your heart. It could be during or even after the relationship. But its all part of life I guess. You'll never know how to love someone wholeheartedly if you haven't been hurt before. You just have to turn your heartbreak in to something positive, make the most out of your situation. See the light in the darkness. But learn to deal with things too. Find closure in what happened to you and don't leave a relationship with unfinished business. Because unfinished business will have to be finished sooner or later, and I think sooner is better. Allow yourself time to heal too. Opening yourself up to someone that much can hurt you a lot, and everything you had with that person will be completely lost in an instant. And you're gonna need to come to terms with that. Remember that what's meant to be , will be. Love, is a complicated thing, and you're never quite sure how things could possibly turn out to be. You're just gonna go out on a limb each time hoping for the best and patiently waiting for your happily ever after with a special person.
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8
The weak breeze whispers nothing The water screams sublime His feet shift, teeter-totter Deep breath, stand back, it’s time Toes untouch the overpass Soon he’s water bound Eyes locked shut but peek to see The view from halfway down A little wind, a summer sun A river rich and regal A flood of fond endorphins Brings a calm that knows no equal You’re flying now You see things much more clear than from the ground It’s all okay, it would be Were you not now halfway down Thrash to break from gravity What now could slow the drop All I’d give for toes to touch The safety back at top But this is it, the deed is done Silence drowns the sound Before I leaped I should’ve seen The view from halfway down I really should’ve thought about The view from halfway down I wish I could’ve known about The view from halfway down
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Feb 11, 2020
Feb 11, 2020 at 9:53 AM UTC
The View From Halfway Down
You laugh Angels weep out of jealousy Devils have no single conspiracy Demons dancing in harmony Men hearts go broken with no remedy Women eyes tearing continuously Violins break out of envy terribly Composers have no more creativity Music plays with no melody Silence starts listening joyfully Happiness laughters left in agony Beautiful words describe nothing but misery Tulip flowers become colorless shamefully Believers lose their faith immediately Infidels drop their convictions instantly Hearts start beating rapidly Lungs oxygenating quickly Living ones laying listening carefully The dead come back miraculously --Hisham Alshaikh
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Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 10:24 AM UTC
You Laugh
there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average human being to supply any given army on any given day and the best at ****** are those who preach against it and the best at hate are those who preach love and the best at war finally are those who preach peace those who preach god, need god those who preach peace do not have peace those who preach peace do not have love beware the preachers beware the knowers beware those who are always reading books beware those who either detest poverty or are proud of it beware those quick to praise for they need praise in return beware those who are quick to censor they are afraid of what they do not know beware those who seek constant crowds for they are nothing alone beware the average man the average woman beware their love, their love is average seeks average but there is genius in their hatred there is enough genius in their hatred to **** you to **** anybody not wanting solitude not understanding solitude they will attempt to destroy anything that differs from their own not being able to create art they will not understand art they will consider their failure as creators only as a failure of the world not being able to love fully they will believe your love incomplete and then they will hate you and their hatred will be perfect like a shining diamond like a knife like a mountain like a tiger like hemlock their finest art
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180k
The Genius Of The Crowd
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience,your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which i cannot touch because they are too near your slightest look easily will unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose or if your wish be to close me, i and my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending; nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility:whose texture compels me with the color of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing (i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
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174.7k
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
I am loud, Demanding attention. I know when I am being charming Because I try. I put on my impressing face And do my impressing hair And speak my impressing words. I tell you my embarrassing drinking stories And everything else about me That you probably shouldn’t know. I am not good at being quiet Because that’s not who I am. I am not the sweet girl Who will leave you with a smile And a touch And a glance Or a single word. There is nothing of this fashion of romance About me. I am the girl who will point out your flaws, And take you outside to see the stars, And remind you how human you are, And what a wonderful thing that is. I am the girl who will talk about science, And music and theology and history, And point out constellations, laughing, When you don’t know the big dipper’s name. I am the girl who will make witty references, To classic literature and science fiction, And will tell you stories of how I once, Made a gingerbread replica of a lighthouse. I am the girl who will stand on a table, And sing at the top of my lungs on the highway, And act like a chicken or quail or velociraptor, Or nuzzle your face like a lion to make a point. I am the girl who takes too many shots And then coaxes you to bed on a Russian liver, And knows all the right places to bite, and tease, And follows with exceptionally coherent pillow-talk. I am not a thin silk scarf on the wind. I am not a thing hard to capture. You would not spend a perilous journey Through a wild, perfumed jungle, Searching for my slender garments Hung beside a pool As I wail to the breeze. Rather, I am the bird who flies overhead Making too much noise Distracting from the trail ahead. A bird whose plumage proves What an interesting life it must be… What a colorful life for me… Perpetually strange The lone comic relief. I am many things. But I am not quiet. Of this I am sure.
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Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 6:27 AM UTC
I am Loud
I am loud, Demanding attention. I know when I am being charming Because I try. I put on my impressing face And do my impressing hair And speak my impressing words. I tell you my embarrassing drinking stories And everything else about me That you probably shouldn’t know. I am not good at being quiet Because that’s not who I am. I am not the sweet girl Who will leave you with a smile And a touch And a glance Or a single word. There is nothing of this fashion of romance About me. I am the girl who will point out your flaws, And take you outside to see the stars, And remind you how human you are, And what a wonderful thing that is. I am the girl who will talk about science, And music and theology and history, And point out constellations, laughing, When you don’t know the big dipper’s name. I am the girl who will make witty references, To classic literature and science fiction, And will tell you stories of how I once, Made a gingerbread replica of a lighthouse. I am the girl who will stand on a table, And sing at the top of my lungs on the highway, And act like a chicken or quail or velociraptor, Or nuzzle your face like a lion to make a point. I am the girl who takes too many shots And then coaxes you to bed on a Russian liver, And knows all the right places to bite, and tease, And follows with exceptionally coherent pillow-talk. I am not a thin silk scarf on the wind. I am not a thing hard to capture. You would not spend a perilous journey Through a wild, perfumed jungle, Searching for my slender garments Hung beside a pool As I wail to the breeze. Rather, I am the bird who flies overhead Making too much noise Distracting from the trail ahead. A bird whose plumage proves What an interesting life it must be… What a colorful life for me… Perpetually strange The lone comic relief. I am many things. But I am not quiet. Of this I am sure.
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57
You fade... Like a bruise. Like the ones your mouth left on my neck and shoulders with its lustful pressure. Your teeth, which brought moments of bright pain/pleasure, Are now bared in an artificial, animal smile. Your lips, which parted to taste my skin like it was salvation, Barely part now to speak to me. You whispered my name like a prayer. You screamed it like a curse. You sighed it in contentment, And now you won't even speak it in passing. Your hands, which half-playfully pulled my hair... Now won't pause to brush it from my face. All these parts of you, None more telling than your eyes. Those new windows, which once let me pry... Now have blinds drawn tight behind them, Leaving only a pretty, shiny reflection- A passing, glancing imitation- Of the passion they once held When they beheld Me. No color left to them but the muddy colors of Boredom, And possibly mistrust. You fade... Like a bruise. Like the one you left on my mind with your brilliant conversation And beautiful, rusty prose. Like the many you left on my tongue... Which now can speak nothing but trite and meaningless words, Which now can barely remember the shapes Of all the shimmering, liquid phrases it spoke to you That seemed so important at the time. You fade... Like a bruise. Once lover and friend, Now barely one And never the other again.
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May 3, 2012
May 3, 2012 at 2:23 PM UTC
You Fade
I LOVE MYSELF With all my flaws In my Beautifulness, In my mistakes, In my weakness, In my darkness. I love myself, because I am worth it. I am a high power person who can move mountains with my love, thoughts and dreams I am good, kind, funny, full of life and love, contagious with my explosive energy Some things may be equally essential but nothing is more important than loving oneself And at this moment the love I have for myself goes above and beyond. It could reach the end of the universe if I just unwrap it I love me in my inane, craziest, sanest, beautiful twisted, darkest and funniest way I love me in a way that no one does I love me in my fullest woes I am everything that I can and will be I am frightfully proud of my flaws and proudly wearing them as no one is perfect This is the start of a new journey to me The journey of love and self acceptance The journey to fully embrace and value my own self I allow myself to fall in my stupidest and biggest way, just to get back up and catch my breath again Failure will not stop me but make me stronger I am fully seeing me and smiling at my imperfected and distorted reflection Hugging myself so tightly, refusing to let go The more I am spending time with me, The more and more my love grows Is it bad for my health ? I do not think so. It’s true, I am better, happier, more free, powerful, at peace The sun is shining on me I don’t need no help to be beautiful, ‘cause I’ve got me I’ve got that uncontainable light from within me I am smoldering a treasure, sharing laughter, joy and sadness with myself I have learnt the phases of myself So distant from that little insecure girl I used to know As I allow her opinions to matter I have accepted her difference Her different kind of beauty, I have learned to love This feeling of wholeness, self acceptance, comfort and love, is liberating I wrap myself around my contorted and beautiful else to form a ME As I am, Raw and Real
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Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 6:34 AM UTC
Me, Myself and I
I LOVE MYSELF With all my flaws In my Beautifulness, In my mistakes, In my weakness, In my darkness. I love myself, because I am worth it. I am a high power person who can move mountains with my love, thoughts and dreams I am good, kind, funny, full of life and love, contagious with my explosive energy Some things may be equally essential but nothing is more important than loving oneself And at this moment the love I have for myself goes above and beyond. It could reach the end of the universe if I just unwrap it I love me in my inane, craziest, sanest, beautiful twisted, darkest and funniest way I love me in a way that no one does I love me in my fullest woes I am everything that I can and will be I am frightfully proud of my flaws and proudly wearing them as no one is perfect This is the start of a new journey to me The journey of love and self acceptance The journey to fully embrace and value my own self I allow myself to fall in my stupidest and biggest way, just to get back up and catch my breath again Failure will not stop me but make me stronger I am fully seeing me and smiling at my imperfected and distorted reflection Hugging myself so tightly, refusing to let go The more I am spending time with me, The more and more my love grows Is it bad for my health ? I do not think so. It’s true, I am better, happier, more free, powerful, at peace The sun is shining on me I don’t need no help to be beautiful, ‘cause I’ve got me I’ve got that uncontainable light from within me I am smoldering a treasure, sharing laughter, joy and sadness with myself I have learnt the phases of myself So distant from that little insecure girl I used to know As I allow her opinions to matter I have accepted her difference Her different kind of beauty, I have learned to love This feeling of wholeness, self acceptance, comfort and love, is liberating I wrap myself around my contorted and beautiful else to form a ME As I am, Raw and Real
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40
The throbbing headache and nausea I can endure; I've had worse. Right now I could cry, such a raw hope consumed me as I thought about you, desperate. It was still dark for me then, when I needed you. Now it's day. It brings a true smirk to my face to know you are nothing more than a night of binge drinking: a foolish part of my youth, a consequence of boredom. I could not hold your liquor, I vomited all that bile you said to me in the hedges outside. Don't fret, this is not a bad memory, in fact you might never be a memory at all. I am well. I will drink better and far more dangerous poisons. I am today, you are only last night.
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Mar 13, 2012
Mar 13, 2012 at 9:55 PM UTC
I Compare You to Binge Drinking
It finally stopped raining, after endless hours of trying to fall into the deep rhythms of sleep. But the rain just kept tapping on the windows while the wind blew like the Big Bad Wolf, those **** plastic window frames groaning. I lay flat on my back while you were there by my side. We watched as the stars slowly reappear into the night sky, the moon waxing. We had our sweaters on to keep the nasty cold bite out, yet I was comfortable where I was, the warmth between us enough. Our bond, stronger than ever. CRACK went the lightning, and I awoke with a startle. The wind was heaving pellets of rain to my window as the frame bent and swayed in response to the wind's force. I got up to look outside and I saw: nothing; It was dark, empty, and very cold chilled to the bone. *not again is it really difficult to want something that tastes so sweet yet feels so painful*
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Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 2:41 PM UTC
Bitter Sweet
The billowing sea bows down dancing, the cool one comes— with love, as if with a flute on the lips, rising from the deep. Listen to the flute. Chorus clouds sing, drifting down the blue river— so mellifluous, into the sky they soar! From the secret valley, the punter sun ambles in, carrying wonderlight, as if it knows the flutist’s art— knows the rise from the sea’s bedrock. Every planet spins— a flying bee drawn to the inner music. Nothing pauses in the solar ring. The Moon, waning and waxing, in silhouette and half-light, sways above the sea full of life. It all began on this Earth, from our sea— Him, the Sweet Creative Maestro rose from the midst, and lifted the sun, the bumblebee. All the stars in the galaxy follow still— they can't forget the ancient story. Since then, the sun, brightest in the band, leads the mindful dance enduring, homeward— still following the haunting, eternal tune, pure mighty the one command: Qun. Be.
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Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 1:26 PM UTC
Music in Space
I walk the world with thoughts of you In every place I go Your voice is on the winter wind Your footprints in the snow And every tool I try to use to scrape you from my mind Cuts your name onto my tongue And beats me till I'm blind I layed my head upon your knees and breathed the air you breathed I cut myself when you were cut to know just how you bleed Now as I walk this empty earth with nothing but a face To breathe me and to bleed me Until I leave this place
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Feb 10, 2013
Feb 10, 2013 at 2:32 AM UTC
Face
Words are hollow. Eyes are deceiving. Thoughts are far fetched. Illusions are broken. Looks mean nothing. Expressions can be fake. Emotions are assassins. Senses don't work. Heart stops beating. Light turns into darkness. Does this mean I am dead?
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Feb 16, 2012
Feb 16, 2012 at 5:06 PM UTC
Is this real?
I want to sleep forever and reside in my dreams            To frolic through a collage of different spectacles and scenes                 An escape from the insufferable, cruel world at large I want to sleep forever I want to sleep forever so I can live in my dreams            The ruler of the lands, the queen of all kings                With nothing to fear but the darkside of the conscience I want to sleep forever I want to sleep forever and fight my inner demons         Provide peace of mind for all bothered and exhausted               Float on utter bliss; those monsters, I'll never miss I want to sleep forever I want to sleep forever and never show sadness again         Bright, long-lasting smiles on weekly sullen days              Created and maintained in a variety of ways I want to sleep forever I want to sleep forever to erase everything        I want to sleep forever and feel warmth again            To bathe myself in content that won't ever end Let me sleep forever
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Oct 21, 2011
Oct 21, 2011 at 3:00 AM UTC
Lucid
let’s live suddenly without thinking under honest trees, a stream does.the brain of cleverly-crinkling -water pursues the angry dream of the shore. By midnight, a moon scratches the skin of the organised hills an edged nothing begins to prune let’s live like the light that kills and let’s as silence, because Whirl’s after all: (after me)love,and after you. I occasionally feel vague how vague idon’t know tenuous Now- spears and The Then-arrows making do our mouths something red,something tall
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106.8k
Let’s Live Suddenly Without Thinking
The perception of beauty is all opinion. so nothing is not...
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Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 4:57 PM UTC
...beautiful (Haiku)
It was nothing like the movies No cheesy pick up line No accidental touch of hands Not even and intense gazing. Yet no movie or book can describe it The moment when you notice things; First, the tone of his voice Second, the nonsensical gestures he makes. These may be stupid and odd But in that moment when “two” friends seriously talk And suddenly look into each other’s eyes Will you realize that shoot! You like him.
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Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 4:58 AM UTC
Cheesy Reality
The first time I saw you it was in math class. I didn't notice anything about you at first I just memorized the back of how your head was. After all, I had an hour to **** The second time I saw you were in English class. You sat next to me but not by choice. But I was happy about it. It took me about four to five weeks to talk to you, and I wasn't even the one to speak first. You introduced yourself and then we worked together on an assignment. It's been two weeks and I haven't said another word and I probably won't out of random. My anxiety swallows me whole and I'm sorry I can't even say hello. But I have had time to notice you. And let me just say I'm in love with your taste in music I'm in love with the way you hold your books thinking that if you change the sound of your voice when the diagonal changes, or if you struggle reading words you've never seen before and sit there for a few seconds trying to piece together what they mean. I love how you can play the mandolin, you should show me sometime. As I think about these things I also pick up how you would never even think of me. I mean really, you probably want some girl that's outgoing and can strum a guitar solo at midnight with you. You probably want someone with long hair you can intertwine your fingers in, or someone you can spend an afternoon together after church with. I can't move mountains and I can't even speak without looking like a fool, but even if nothing will ever happen It would be just as quite exciting being friends with you. We could trade books and make each other mixtapes. It hasn't even been a month yet and I'm already writing mediocre poetry about you. I'm sorry about that by the way. I'm not asking for a relationship but a friendship with someone like you would feel just the same.
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Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 6:46 PM UTC
A Poem About Liking A Boy I've Barely Known
The first time I saw you it was in math class. I didn't notice anything about you at first I just memorized the back of how your head was. After all, I had an hour to **** The second time I saw you were in English class. You sat next to me but not by choice. But I was happy about it. It took me about four to five weeks to talk to you, and I wasn't even the one to speak first. You introduced yourself and then we worked together on an assignment. It's been two weeks and I haven't said another word and I probably won't out of random. My anxiety swallows me whole and I'm sorry I can't even say hello. But I have had time to notice you. And let me just say I'm in love with your taste in music I'm in love with the way you hold your books thinking that if you change the sound of your voice when the diagonal changes, or if you struggle reading words you've never seen before and sit there for a few seconds trying to piece together what they mean. I love how you can play the mandolin, you should show me sometime. As I think about these things I also pick up how you would never even think of me. I mean really, you probably want some girl that's outgoing and can strum a guitar solo at midnight with you. You probably want someone with long hair you can intertwine your fingers in, or someone you can spend an afternoon together after church with. I can't move mountains and I can't even speak without looking like a fool, but even if nothing will ever happen It would be just as quite exciting being friends with you. We could trade books and make each other mixtapes. It hasn't even been a month yet and I'm already writing mediocre poetry about you. I'm sorry about that by the way. I'm not asking for a relationship but a friendship with someone like you would feel just the same.
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32
"--you know, I've either had a family, a job, something has always been in the way but now I've sold my house, I've found this place, a large studio, you should see the space and the light. for the first time in my life I'm going to have a place and the time to create." no baby, if you're going to create you're going to create whether you work 16 hours a day in a coal mine or you're going to create in a small room with 3 children while you're on welfare, you're going to create with part of your mind and your body blown away, you're going to create blind crippled demented, you're going to create with a cat crawling up your back while the whole city trembles in earthquakes, bombardment, flood and fire. baby, air and light and time and space have nothing to do with it and don't create anything except maybe a longer life to find new excuses for.
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89.6k
air and light and time and space
oh lord when i have nothing left he shall comfort me through the valley of death and i shall walk with him into the kingdom of heaven
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Oct 4, 2025
Oct 4, 2025 at 11:48 AM UTC
He Shall Comfort Me
The Wild Iris by Louise Gluck At the end of my suffering there was a door. Hear me out: that which you call death I remember. Overhead, noises, branches of the pine shifting. Then nothing. The weak sun flickered over the dry surface. It is terrible to survive as consciousness buried in the dark earth. Then it was over: that which you fear, being a soul and unable to speak, ending abruptly, the stiff earth bending a little. And what I took to be birds darting in low shrubs. You who do not remember passage from the other world I tell you I could speak again: whatever returns from oblivion returns to find a voice: from the center of my life came a great fountain, deep blue shadows on azure sea water.
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103.5k
The Wild Iris
except that you have attached your parfumed, par~col~odored exhalations into our shared airs, with uniqued fumes,    thy airy essences to thine own chosen words, in combines never before seen or heard, but worn by you, draped from chains abound your neck, dripping from thy tongue, dropping from thine eyes, leaking from your pores, from fingers in rose gold adorning rings bright shining so more, so unique, impossible to misidentify as anything anybody any anything, but yours, yours…yours,      but not belabor this fact basic, disguise your name, hide your fame, make your locale, somewhere in the unreachable, unreal, multiverse, none the less, and allthemore, cannot escape, the ultimate reality, when first you press that keyed SEND, you have parted, done with, an immeasurable small but grandeured piece of your unique self, if that makes you anxious, here my eyes crinkle sympathetically, am please to blurt this major alert: u have nothing to fear, too late, too late, you are now made, part and particle, past participle futured history in the particulared, longest continuum on this tiny, tiny planet oh well, just thought you'd like to know, despite your guises, your are now 100 per cent, immutable ^ 10/5/25 staying alive
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Oct 3, 2025
Oct 3, 2025 at 8:23 PM UTC
Immutable: you 🫵...have nothing to be anxious about 👍
suppose Life is an old man carrying flowers on his head. young death sits in a café smiling,a piece of money held between his thumb and first finger (i say “will he buy flowers” to you and “Death is young life wears velour trousers life totters,life has a beard” i say to you who are silent.—”Do you see Life?he is there and here, or that, or this or nothing or an old man 3 thirds asleep,on his head flowers,always crying to nobody something about les roses les bluets yes, will He buy? Les belles bottes—oh hear ,pas chères”) and my love slowly answered I think so. But I think I see someone else there is a lady,whose name is Afterwards she is sitting beside young death,is slender; likes flowers.
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84.3k
Suppose