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"oblige" poems
There once was a friendship A friendship that grew strong One that was durable and could survive all that went wrong The people in this friendship loved each other through blood, tears, and depression They stood by each others sides through Spite, anger,and loss of affection They fought for each others beliefs Held each other when one felt weak Trusted one another with everything But eventually the day came When their friendship wasn't the same And they ran Having each other to blame For the once proud friendships decay There once was a girl who yearned for what was lost She wanted her friendship no matter the cost So she gave up her pride With a plead and a cry She waited patiently for old friend to oblige But to her surprise her friend still insisted she had lied On the outside she shrugged and said at least I tried But on the inside she knew the pain would not subside That the friendship would be broken even after the day she died
0
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 4:33 AM UTC
The broken friendship
up early to water the garden the cicadas are already drilling holes into the leaden stillness everywhere leaves are drooping I spray the shrubs to wash off the dust birds fly in to sit on the dripping branches begging for a shower a cardinal flutters   its wings and sings and I oblige jewel-like droplets splash through the slanting light everywhere the world is ablaze heat waves wild fires everywhere anger everywhere distraction suspicion leaders are faint-hearted the wicked fan the flames still my garden needs water still the cardinal flutters its wet wings and sings here here water here here here water here Tom Spencer © 2018
0
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 1:41 PM UTC
water here
(from “A Love Song” by William Carlos Williams) <•> familiar that apple google and amazon have me under 24 hour surveillance e-specially now as I am in their geosphere of influence but sending me a love poem of WCWs that isolates my locale, my intended inebriation status, and is addressed to me personally (“you”), that’s just creepy so charged am I, obligated to oblige, to counter-compose a love song of mine own, under the pinot “influence,” (in a manner of speaking) which a love taught me to love what if, a new love song ecrit, to an old and loverly land, a woman-land designed to be desired, no difference - kissing a new girl first time, a wet and unforgettable compote when falling on the neck of your one beloved anew renewed now I tremble-tread for the line of great predecessors, “the land lover scribes” skilled in natures homaging, is like a line out the door, around the corner as if a new flavor ice cream has just been isolated and mined and I... <•> *I, but a novitiate in a far away, wild untamed world where my nature taken by her nature cannot deny paying my just due: selvage late middle English, from self + edge how perfect! “an edge, woven on a fabric during manufacture, intended to prevent unraveling” the pacific coast air the irregular shoreline - expanding/receding, god’s own forestry reserve, the cascades, a goal on the horizon, country roads where ancient wheat stalks grow wild all a tonic intermingled, an alcohol to imbibe through mouth nostrils eyes and skin all will be my own selvage! preventing the eastern unraveling disease, a nearly incurable permafrost low grade kate spaded infection, brought along with me for decades, my loon June companion, now stalling out, lost from my happy head a vineyard on every corner, marijuana growing next door, rivers that change like children growing up and down, cheek to jowled property line live the berries and the hazelnut groves, god’s hay bales wrapped in plastic like marshmallows dotting the landscape* all daring you to say I could love it  here
0
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 3:26 PM UTC
Songs of Oregon: No. 3 “you, far off there, under the wine-red selvage of the west!”
(from “A Love Song” by William Carlos Williams) <•> familiar that apple google and amazon have me under 24 hour surveillance e-specially now as I am in their geosphere of influence but sending me a love poem of WCWs that isolates my locale, my intended inebriation status, and is addressed to me personally (“you”), that’s just creepy so charged am I, obligated to oblige, to counter-compose a love song of mine own, under the pinot “influence,” (in a manner of speaking) which a love taught me to love what if, a new love song ecrit, to an old and loverly land, a woman-land designed to be desired, no difference - kissing a new girl first time, a wet and unforgettable compote when falling on the neck of your one beloved anew renewed now I tremble-tread for the line of great predecessors, “the land lover scribes” skilled in natures homaging, is like a line out the door, around the corner as if a new flavor ice cream has just been isolated and mined and I... <•> *I, but a novitiate in a far away, wild untamed world where my nature taken by her nature cannot deny paying my just due: selvage late middle English, from self + edge how perfect! “an edge, woven on a fabric during manufacture, intended to prevent unraveling” the pacific coast air the irregular shoreline - expanding/receding, god’s own forestry reserve, the cascades, a goal on the horizon, country roads where ancient wheat stalks grow wild all a tonic intermingled, an alcohol to imbibe through mouth nostrils eyes and skin all will be my own selvage! preventing the eastern unraveling disease, a nearly incurable permafrost low grade kate spaded infection, brought along with me for decades, my loon June companion, now stalling out, lost from my happy head a vineyard on every corner, marijuana growing next door, rivers that change like children growing up and down, cheek to jowled property line live the berries and the hazelnut groves, god’s hay bales wrapped in plastic like marshmallows dotting the landscape* all daring you to say I could love it  here
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70
I want to call on your name But I’m afraid you’ll ask “who are you?” I want to run and follow you But that’s not an easy thing for me to do I planned of telling you my feelings But words could not be enough for you to understand… Words can deny my desire They cannot reveal my sincere love They cannot say what you really mean to me But how will you know my passion If I remain in my silence If I tell you only in my dreams If I just keep on expecting and hoping How will you ever know That there is me who cares That I exist because of you That I was born to love you Who will I oblige to tell you If it is not myself If it is not my courage If it is not my frankness I may not tell you, but I can show you Not with those hundred words But with my own simple ways; The way I gaze at you The casual smile I give And my existence not far enough from you!
0
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 3:40 AM UTC
Loving You From Afar
Upper East Side The Hamptons Aspen, Colorado The plastic people Follow each other Moving in herds Like cattle to the Slaughter Drifting Floating Shifting focus From one charity event To another Whatever’s trendy Whatever’s fashionable Whatever’s happ’ning Whatever’s the need Tainted new artists Society’s rejects The film-maker who fits in with The flavor of the month The disease or the cause That captures the moment Stigmas overlooked Deformities relieved By one hyper exertion By one pseudo good deed Changing bedrooms Changing partners New alliances Noblesse oblige Mrs. Astor’s Four hundred Reinvented forever Reinvented with fervor On the edge Of hypocrisy Keeping up with the Jones’s Maintaining the houses Paris, Rome, Cote du Jura Malibu, Palm Beach Couture fashion Madison, Rodeo Worth avenues united Avenues of the liege Location, location, location The right address unspoken Dinner in the right places Sporting events to be seen Three martini luncheons Halcion evenings Business is business Where money’s retrieved Look to plastic people For fashionable guidance No matter the moment No matter the need Remember to catch them While jetting to Santa Barbara Saint Maarten, San Troupe San Marco, warp speed They live in their milieu Can’t function outside it Can’t follow a shadow That others believe It’s easy to find them They leave behind footprints But barely a mem’ry Or singular creed Other than finding The latest in fashion The latest persona Or new plastic breed
0
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 8:19 AM UTC
Plastic People
Upper East Side The Hamptons Aspen, Colorado The plastic people Follow each other Moving in herds Like cattle to the Slaughter Drifting Floating Shifting focus From one charity event To another Whatever’s trendy Whatever’s fashionable Whatever’s happ’ning Whatever’s the need Tainted new artists Society’s rejects The film-maker who fits in with The flavor of the month The disease or the cause That captures the moment Stigmas overlooked Deformities relieved By one hyper exertion By one pseudo good deed Changing bedrooms Changing partners New alliances Noblesse oblige Mrs. Astor’s Four hundred Reinvented forever Reinvented with fervor On the edge Of hypocrisy Keeping up with the Jones’s Maintaining the houses Paris, Rome, Cote du Jura Malibu, Palm Beach Couture fashion Madison, Rodeo Worth avenues united Avenues of the liege Location, location, location The right address unspoken Dinner in the right places Sporting events to be seen Three martini luncheons Halcion evenings Business is business Where money’s retrieved Look to plastic people For fashionable guidance No matter the moment No matter the need Remember to catch them While jetting to Santa Barbara Saint Maarten, San Troupe San Marco, warp speed They live in their milieu Can’t function outside it Can’t follow a shadow That others believe It’s easy to find them They leave behind footprints But barely a mem’ry Or singular creed Other than finding The latest in fashion The latest persona Or new plastic breed
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73
My mind is out of focus And my mouth is dry My eyes are too heavy 'Im so very tired And my face is blank My heart is slow My body is so warm Then it turns cold Now my body twitches My breathing is getting deep I can't trust my ears Or images that I see It seems that I'm here But my mind is gone Time seems so short But feels so long My system needs a shock Or a wake up call When you talk to me Its like conversing with a wall Caffeine don’t do a thing Caffeine won;t do a thing Caffeine does nothing Caffeine do something The sunshine hurts my eyes My mood is so damp I'm like a zombie Try to get up but I can't Brain drain Brain drain Causing me mental pain Brain drain Brain drain My head can't sustain Brain drain Brain drain Everything looks the same Brain drain Brain drain I feel so lame Brain drain Brain drain I can't concentrate Brain drain Brain drain Worn out from this game Wake me up Get me up Keep me up Give me up My head begs for endorphins But I cant oblige Now I'm feeling down It weeps and it cries Keep my head spinning At every minute of every day But now I'm running on fumes You got nothing to say You got my heart, hold it oh so tight I go behind your back doing things that ain't so right Wrap me up in all this drama I wanna leave I need to take a break I'm almost outta steam In school I'm barely getting by Because I'm focused on getting laid and getting high My mind wandered off To where it shouldn't have been So now it has died And buried with my sins I wanna go back to normal Original thought process Mind and body went to hell and back All I can do is digress I had too much fun for way to long So now my right is left and my left is wrong I've got all this stress and it piles up But it's on my shoulders and I can't pass the buck I find no enjoyment in what I once held dear Becoming eternally empty is my deepest fear
0
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 7:06 PM UTC
Brain Drain
My mind is out of focus And my mouth is dry My eyes are too heavy 'Im so very tired And my face is blank My heart is slow My body is so warm Then it turns cold Now my body twitches My breathing is getting deep I can't trust my ears Or images that I see It seems that I'm here But my mind is gone Time seems so short But feels so long My system needs a shock Or a wake up call When you talk to me Its like conversing with a wall Caffeine don’t do a thing Caffeine won;t do a thing Caffeine does nothing Caffeine do something The sunshine hurts my eyes My mood is so damp I'm like a zombie Try to get up but I can't Brain drain Brain drain Causing me mental pain Brain drain Brain drain My head can't sustain Brain drain Brain drain Everything looks the same Brain drain Brain drain I feel so lame Brain drain Brain drain I can't concentrate Brain drain Brain drain Worn out from this game Wake me up Get me up Keep me up Give me up My head begs for endorphins But I cant oblige Now I'm feeling down It weeps and it cries Keep my head spinning At every minute of every day But now I'm running on fumes You got nothing to say You got my heart, hold it oh so tight I go behind your back doing things that ain't so right Wrap me up in all this drama I wanna leave I need to take a break I'm almost outta steam In school I'm barely getting by Because I'm focused on getting laid and getting high My mind wandered off To where it shouldn't have been So now it has died And buried with my sins I wanna go back to normal Original thought process Mind and body went to hell and back All I can do is digress I had too much fun for way to long So now my right is left and my left is wrong I've got all this stress and it piles up But it's on my shoulders and I can't pass the buck I find no enjoyment in what I once held dear Becoming eternally empty is my deepest fear
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78
the benches i always sit at are as cold as ice. their metal structures scream at me to get off of them… to leave them be and let them rust in silence and in solitude. and i oblige to the request
0
Jul 15, 2012
Jul 15, 2012 at 7:20 PM UTC
Bench
this swifter's grift - lifting loosely fitted accoutrement lourden fruit carelessly held silkened, gimlet lit shamelessly rivened to a paler shade of need. solitude's enchanting seed may confer a grander banquet’s call but, this tug of grandiloquent oblige and politesse . . . master and slave consort black and scarlet swift of tongue and fingertip unbound so neatly and leather blind tell me muse of the anger flesh on fire is there really dignity in defeat that eludes the victor tell me muse of the truth in nature ill-graced tail-lamp broken is destiny all ways ordained in contradiction tell me muse do hearts all times submit to the beacon call shyness long forgotten narrative so harshly written as ne'er before with an insistence ageless yearnings bellow   as but glazened shadow if reason sleeps there will be no learning no refuge only to each for their crimes a four-chambered riddle All Rights Reserved James R. Morse, NYC  2013.
0
Sep 12, 2013
Sep 12, 2013 at 7:05 PM UTC
Treatise on Craving
* *Your pearls & diamonds Would transcend into tears One needs to kneel down In front of BELOVEDz But it is important To surrender at the feet There is no need to Utter a single word there Your coming to the Threshold of BELOVEDz heart Is more than enough To be blessed with LOVE* That is why... Everyone comes with a prayer Everyone comes with their wishes and desires But I have come with my LOVE at your doorstep I have come with a Broken heart in my begging bowl *Look at me, look into me This heart carries within And displays to the world All the good glories Of your DIVINE LOVE I've searched for you everywhere With a broken heart of mine I've wandered everywhere With melancholic memories of your LOVE When I am without YOU My fate isn't working for me Now how can anything change The destiny of my life? Only thing that exists here is sadness Every moment I live, Every moment I am alive It tears my heart into Small shards and pieces I can not even talk about Your divinity to anyone My tears and sorrows too can't Depict the story of our LOVE Only if I am able to see you again I will be born again to live again Oh.. Zuliet, Oh.. Layla - I've come at your doorstep With the divine LOVE of Romeo and Majnun* That is why... Everyone comes with a prayer Everyone comes with their wishes and desires But I have come with my LOVE at your doorstep I have come with a Broken heart in my begging bowl *The arrows of your blessings of LOVE The arrows of your hopes in LOVE Can never miss its target - my heart The God/dess - the Nature - The Karma Can never NOT oblige to a LOVERz plea Just keep faith in LOVE Believe and trust in LOVE Everything will be fine in LOVE Even if you can't utter a word Serve your heart in a begging bowl And surrender it at your BELOVEDz feet in LOVE Just remove this veil of Doubt from your heart Then you'll see your LOVE In front of YOU And you'll also see my LOVE in front of YOU Nor you have to present A bouquet of flowers Nor you have to bring any other gifts Oh my LOVERz... Oh my BELOVEDz Just bring your broken-heart And kiss the feet of BELOVEDz* That is why... Everyone comes with a prayer Everyone comes with their wishes and desires But I have come with my LOVE at your doorstep I have come with a Broken heart in my begging bowl *Look at me, look into me This heart carries within And displays to the world All the good glories Of your DIVINE LOVE* *
0
Mar 8, 2019
Mar 8, 2019 at 11:31 PM UTC
Begging Bowl
* *Your pearls & diamonds Would transcend into tears One needs to kneel down In front of BELOVEDz But it is important To surrender at the feet There is no need to Utter a single word there Your coming to the Threshold of BELOVEDz heart Is more than enough To be blessed with LOVE* That is why... Everyone comes with a prayer Everyone comes with their wishes and desires But I have come with my LOVE at your doorstep I have come with a Broken heart in my begging bowl *Look at me, look into me This heart carries within And displays to the world All the good glories Of your DIVINE LOVE I've searched for you everywhere With a broken heart of mine I've wandered everywhere With melancholic memories of your LOVE When I am without YOU My fate isn't working for me Now how can anything change The destiny of my life? Only thing that exists here is sadness Every moment I live, Every moment I am alive It tears my heart into Small shards and pieces I can not even talk about Your divinity to anyone My tears and sorrows too can't Depict the story of our LOVE Only if I am able to see you again I will be born again to live again Oh.. Zuliet, Oh.. Layla - I've come at your doorstep With the divine LOVE of Romeo and Majnun* That is why... Everyone comes with a prayer Everyone comes with their wishes and desires But I have come with my LOVE at your doorstep I have come with a Broken heart in my begging bowl *The arrows of your blessings of LOVE The arrows of your hopes in LOVE Can never miss its target - my heart The God/dess - the Nature - The Karma Can never NOT oblige to a LOVERz plea Just keep faith in LOVE Believe and trust in LOVE Everything will be fine in LOVE Even if you can't utter a word Serve your heart in a begging bowl And surrender it at your BELOVEDz feet in LOVE Just remove this veil of Doubt from your heart Then you'll see your LOVE In front of YOU And you'll also see my LOVE in front of YOU Nor you have to present A bouquet of flowers Nor you have to bring any other gifts Oh my LOVERz... Oh my BELOVEDz Just bring your broken-heart And kiss the feet of BELOVEDz* That is why... Everyone comes with a prayer Everyone comes with their wishes and desires But I have come with my LOVE at your doorstep I have come with a Broken heart in my begging bowl *Look at me, look into me This heart carries within And displays to the world All the good glories Of your DIVINE LOVE* *
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95
She romanticize the orchestra of her muffled cries, caught her canvases bruised with purple and red, Her bare chest was beautifully wounded by a serrated cage, arranging her disorganized open heart. Her heart is malleable from tragic delights, she ripped herself open, willing to give it whole. Will you take it all and leave it as it is? Does it oblige you to wrap your arms around me like a tightening noose? And as she draw marks of red stains and carve on her skin, her limbs were perched perfectly, as you adore it with a painful stare. And her hands were pure certainty, remained untouched.
0
Mar 31, 2022
Mar 31, 2022 at 4:56 AM UTC
Broken limbs and open heart
A fire of pride A swarm of prejudice Inside I hide In dark malevolence A light captured A bone fractured Fondness becomes love Love becomes passion Passion rises above As hatred enters the fashion Arrogance rises up inside Makes it hard to oblige The wishes of those around me Pride turns to arrogance Prejudice becomes hate Arrogance and hatred are all I see
0
Jan 21, 2011
Jan 21, 2011 at 1:35 PM UTC
Arrogance and Hatred
He was sitting at the bar, not a nice bar at that, when she walked in uplifted by the draft as she let the heavy door close behind her draped in a black dress with black hair like a shroud and pale skin like bones she sat two stools down from him and ordered an old fashioned and necked it down before ordering another and another and another losing none of her poise and no sign of flushed cheeks she made eye contact with him and for the first time in his life he knew fear and he knew he wanted to be scared He ordered two old fashioned's and slid a stool over and told her his name holding out his hand hopefully she took it with dainty fingers her skin was colder than the creek that he had been dared to swim in during the winters of his childhood "I think we've met before" she said a voice like a funeral dirge "so you must come here a lot" he replied "you could say that, or you could come back to my place" he was more than happy to oblige together they trudged off into the inky night and he was never seen again, and the next night she was back at that bar drinking old fashioned's and waiting to be approached
0
May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 4:40 PM UTC
flirting with death
Palestine The blank screen is watching me to say something about flower and the landscape I refuse to oblige. My thoughts today go to the suffering Palestinians, Who had their country to pieces by a horde from Europa claiming it was their land as promised by a Jewish scribe. They were pushed away from their land and cities and mercilessly sent to exile, the survivors were given a piece of land by the invaders, who called it the West -Bank, There is no county by that name. There is Palestine, the people there although outgunned resist the invaders it is a David and Goliath fight and we know the stone thrower won. It took some time for good people to see the catastrophe that befell the people of Palestine, but the world is catching up, and no longer listen to the what a fake state's propaganda says. I'm old and will not live long enough to see it, but I know Palestine will be free.
0
Jul 31, 2017
Jul 31, 2017 at 11:58 AM UTC
To the People of Palestine
she was my jane doe, my everything. we flew to arizona. she was my partner, my lover, wondering what i could be thinking about. her. a different kind of her "not now," she thinks, "what about jane doe?" i understand, and oblige. the light stirs we crash down and fall and almost burn but live others were not so lucky. when we fell, i thought about her. my jane doe. this place wasn't a place of god, no matter what it said the things they did to women children babies sickening. it reminded me of what they did to her, my jane doe. her, my partner, my lover was gone, but i still found her. we walked and knew we would lose each other again, no matter how much it hurt us the light continued to stir and when it did i saw her, my jane doe, my everything. it happened so many years ago we were children young souls destined to go to heaven if we were good. if we weren't, they would lecture us, punish us. yours was undeserved, my jane doe. i tried to be good. i tried to not say a word. i knew what sin meant, but i knew even more of your love for me love. the prophet said it was love when he slaughtered the women and children. the heretic said it was love when she played with me like she did all those years ago they didn't know. they'll never know but i knew when i knew you were there, my jane doe, my one and only, my everything. the child was you, the one who came back for me, my jane doe. it was nobody's fault; not yours, not mine, but his? there is no doubt. there is nothing. but you, my jane doe. one last stir of light helpless, we would be one again. now i lie here alone where artificial light stirs where voices mumble and when two people say they have plans for me.
0
Aug 30, 2022
Aug 30, 2022 at 4:55 PM UTC
my jane doe.
she was my jane doe, my everything. we flew to arizona. she was my partner, my lover, wondering what i could be thinking about. her. a different kind of her "not now," she thinks, "what about jane doe?" i understand, and oblige. the light stirs we crash down and fall and almost burn but live others were not so lucky. when we fell, i thought about her. my jane doe. this place wasn't a place of god, no matter what it said the things they did to women children babies sickening. it reminded me of what they did to her, my jane doe. her, my partner, my lover was gone, but i still found her. we walked and knew we would lose each other again, no matter how much it hurt us the light continued to stir and when it did i saw her, my jane doe, my everything. it happened so many years ago we were children young souls destined to go to heaven if we were good. if we weren't, they would lecture us, punish us. yours was undeserved, my jane doe. i tried to be good. i tried to not say a word. i knew what sin meant, but i knew even more of your love for me love. the prophet said it was love when he slaughtered the women and children. the heretic said it was love when she played with me like she did all those years ago they didn't know. they'll never know but i knew when i knew you were there, my jane doe, my one and only, my everything. the child was you, the one who came back for me, my jane doe. it was nobody's fault; not yours, not mine, but his? there is no doubt. there is nothing. but you, my jane doe. one last stir of light helpless, we would be one again. now i lie here alone where artificial light stirs where voices mumble and when two people say they have plans for me.
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63
I treasure your friendship You make me laugh I look for a gap To give you a hard time In the best possible way I make you laugh too If you're having a bad day I'll tell you a joke Or act like a clown I'll make you laugh You won't be upset long If I have my way If you need a hug I'll happily oblige If its real bad or real sad I'll weep with you Until you get through I'll be there We will share the load Good, bad, happy or sad This is friendship
0
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 1:45 PM UTC
Friendship
They robbed us!   The one’s that told us what it means to be men… THEY LIED!!!   They told us feeling is wrong. And they taught us to be STRONG is to be silent. "Build a pit," they said, "make it so deep that a lifetime of emotion can’t fill it."   And we oblige.   But we know it’s there… The stench keeps us up at night.   The fetid fumes cloud our vision; The windows to our souls opaque to the outside world and those we Love, those we want to reveal ourselves to.   Meanwhile, inside, we’re clawing at the glass with bloodied hands.                                          GOD HELP ME!!!                                                                 I want to be free of this!! See me!                                                  I’m a human being!   I have hopes,          I have dreams,                 I have fears, I feel sorrow, I know regret, and I believe in redemption… but all of this... It's for someone else… someone weak.   What a lie! So delicious we swallowed it whole—a bitter pill dipped in honey Given us by those we love,                                     by those we trust.   The poison works through us,                                          unrelenting, T w i s t i n g us, turning us against one another… No emotions!   Not here!!   You’re a man!!   Be a man!! **** it up!!!           **** it up until it chokes you!!!                    **** it up until you can’t feel anymore!!                              **** it up until you’re dry and broken!!                                        **** it up until you forget... What life was and what death is…                                               **** it up because that’s what men do. They corrupted our legacy They stole our future.   And we let them do it.   We helped them do it.
0
Aug 29, 2016
Aug 29, 2016 at 10:33 PM UTC
To Be a Man
They robbed us!   The one’s that told us what it means to be men… THEY LIED!!!   They told us feeling is wrong. And they taught us to be STRONG is to be silent. "Build a pit," they said, "make it so deep that a lifetime of emotion can’t fill it."   And we oblige.   But we know it’s there… The stench keeps us up at night.   The fetid fumes cloud our vision; The windows to our souls opaque to the outside world and those we Love, those we want to reveal ourselves to.   Meanwhile, inside, we’re clawing at the glass with bloodied hands.                                          GOD HELP ME!!!                                                                 I want to be free of this!! See me!                                                  I’m a human being!   I have hopes,          I have dreams,                 I have fears, I feel sorrow, I know regret, and I believe in redemption… but all of this... It's for someone else… someone weak.   What a lie! So delicious we swallowed it whole—a bitter pill dipped in honey Given us by those we love,                                     by those we trust.   The poison works through us,                                          unrelenting, T w i s t i n g us, turning us against one another… No emotions!   Not here!!   You’re a man!!   Be a man!! **** it up!!!           **** it up until it chokes you!!!                    **** it up until you can’t feel anymore!!                              **** it up until you’re dry and broken!!                                        **** it up until you forget... What life was and what death is…                                               **** it up because that’s what men do. They corrupted our legacy They stole our future.   And we let them do it.   We helped them do it.
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44
Miss Cleves (she dropped the Mrs. when her husband left) stood by the doorframe of the lounge, dressed in a flowery kimono, which revealed more than it concealed. ***** wants some milk, she said. Benedict looked around at her from the sofa. Percy will oblige after his drink is drunk, he said. Chopin’s concerto no 2 oozed from the hifi. He drained his drink and followed her into her bedroom. Once Percy had obliged and ***** been fed, they lay abed. She criticizing his Marxism, he her Scottish conservatism; she talked of her husband’s betrayal and *** with air hostess trollops, Benedict half-listened taking in the ending of the Chopin. She talked of the poor and the slums saying: you can take the poor out of the slums, but you can’t always take the slums out of the poor. He raved about the rich, she scorned the poor; he talked revolution, he pointed out Stalin and Mao and the altars of blood they brought. Another drink? she asked. He said yes and she went off to pour. He lay naked on her bed wondering what the priest would think of him lying there **** naked. He heard the Chopin begin again; she had thought of that. Time to prepare, he thought, once more to feed the cat.
0
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 1:56 AM UTC
FEED THE CAT.
The young Musicians  are at rehearsal...the ladies and the lords will soon gather in the music chamber...and Caravaggio's musicians will play them some music and sing them various  songs...but first, they must rehearse... The Musicians at Rehearsal Let us continue… Let me tune a little of this lute while you peruse the notes and you clear your throat And what’s our Cupid doing? Crushing grapes again between his teeth Let us rehearse well to render a song of softness and ease and grace A song of love with sweet music that will charm our guests And we shall present it in the private chamber of honored lords and ladies - and we shall sing like angels and one of us will be as Cupid dancing and flying as fancy takes him Let us hurry now though let us not forget polish and pace and perfection… come, let us again rehearse together ...and soon the ladies and the lords will arrive...and the musicians will perform and sing their songs of love, passion and sadness... ...and the ladies and the lords are seated in the music chamber...and Caravaggio's musicians play and they sing a song of love and passion... Song of Love O luscious Ladies and brave Sirs the clouds join with one another and the streams sing; the birds sit amorous on the branches and the trees sway while the flowers spread their scent in the air and the bees dance in a daze ah, Ladies are made for men and men for women and each so shaped for perfect fits - embrace then the lover beside you O Sirs pick the red berries on the lips of the luscious ladies; and O lovely Ladies, yield to the embrace of the gallant beside you and feel flowers bloom within - for men are made for women and women for men and each so shaped for perfect fits O embrace and kiss dear luscious Ladies and most accomplished Sirs for Cupid seeks that you make love and produce heavenly cherubim who in turn, nights and days, will make love like you do now in this chamber of pleasures ...and so ends the first song...and the musicians prepare to sing one more for the charming ladies and the elegant lords...a song of sadness to end the night... ...the beautiful ladies and the lords want more from Caravaggio's musicians... the musicians are always glad to oblige..they sing their song of sadness, of loss and love... O this ecstasy we call love O this ecstasy we call love - what is it? why do we crave it when there is such pain that weighs on the body and heart? O this joy we call love - what is it? why do we fall when there is so much deceit and betrayal? why do we love when there are lies and hidden motives? O this curse called love - it has dried my heart out and my being is smeared as cloth with oil and grime; my best times have been taken away and there is left only contempt and scorn and derision… O this darkness we call love - what is it? why do we still move to it even as it teases us and leaves us broken and forlorn?    ...and it is time to go...and the ladies and lords bow and they depart...some depart hand in hand...silent...some depart alone, sad and contemplative...
0
Aug 2, 2011
Aug 2, 2011 at 9:16 PM UTC
The Musicians, (c.1595) Caravaggio
The young Musicians  are at rehearsal...the ladies and the lords will soon gather in the music chamber...and Caravaggio's musicians will play them some music and sing them various  songs...but first, they must rehearse... The Musicians at Rehearsal Let us continue… Let me tune a little of this lute while you peruse the notes and you clear your throat And what’s our Cupid doing? Crushing grapes again between his teeth Let us rehearse well to render a song of softness and ease and grace A song of love with sweet music that will charm our guests And we shall present it in the private chamber of honored lords and ladies - and we shall sing like angels and one of us will be as Cupid dancing and flying as fancy takes him Let us hurry now though let us not forget polish and pace and perfection… come, let us again rehearse together ...and soon the ladies and the lords will arrive...and the musicians will perform and sing their songs of love, passion and sadness... ...and the ladies and the lords are seated in the music chamber...and Caravaggio's musicians play and they sing a song of love and passion... Song of Love O luscious Ladies and brave Sirs the clouds join with one another and the streams sing; the birds sit amorous on the branches and the trees sway while the flowers spread their scent in the air and the bees dance in a daze ah, Ladies are made for men and men for women and each so shaped for perfect fits - embrace then the lover beside you O Sirs pick the red berries on the lips of the luscious ladies; and O lovely Ladies, yield to the embrace of the gallant beside you and feel flowers bloom within - for men are made for women and women for men and each so shaped for perfect fits O embrace and kiss dear luscious Ladies and most accomplished Sirs for Cupid seeks that you make love and produce heavenly cherubim who in turn, nights and days, will make love like you do now in this chamber of pleasures ...and so ends the first song...and the musicians prepare to sing one more for the charming ladies and the elegant lords...a song of sadness to end the night... ...the beautiful ladies and the lords want more from Caravaggio's musicians... the musicians are always glad to oblige..they sing their song of sadness, of loss and love... O this ecstasy we call love O this ecstasy we call love - what is it? why do we crave it when there is such pain that weighs on the body and heart? O this joy we call love - what is it? why do we fall when there is so much deceit and betrayal? why do we love when there are lies and hidden motives? O this curse called love - it has dried my heart out and my being is smeared as cloth with oil and grime; my best times have been taken away and there is left only contempt and scorn and derision… O this darkness we call love - what is it? why do we still move to it even as it teases us and leaves us broken and forlorn?    ...and it is time to go...and the ladies and lords bow and they depart...some depart hand in hand...silent...some depart alone, sad and contemplative...
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Softness has no measure, you would suppose, but your eyes whisper intimate love secrets, that I gather, those  gentle waves of softness my eyes would finely record, and my heart will resonate tenderly with its every nuance. Every look conceals alphabets of softness, for the one intended, as those eye lashes flutter, like a dove, its exact measure, my mind captures, This softness I receive and respond, and you send moment by moment, is the essence of passion we  deeply share. Your voice quivers, my heart jitters, a stylus fashioned from thought, will etch each word, in our inner caves, for ever to remain. Softness spreads in the air when you are near; from the lovely thoughts you bring, it permeates defying all science, conventions and understanding, I swing in to high gear with love fever. *Your touch; isn't it condensed softness? with that flower soft touch, a new level of awareness in love, comes in to being, I fly in the air,without wings! yet my heart craves for your eyes' special interest, won't you oblige?*
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Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 12:00 AM UTC
Softness has no measure, you would suppose
I always smelled of lavender and smoke. It used to linger on your sheets, Driving you mad. "I need you" Id laugh and oblige, Until the winter ended and You didn't want my ice. I bet I still haunt you in the spring, When the air is sudenly rich with lavender and smoke.
0
Jun 15, 2013
Jun 15, 2013 at 4:21 PM UTC
Lavender And Smoke.
I assured him I was okay, insisted he'd go catch his train. Though the meeting had shook me, I knew how to stand and behave. He told me *forget about today, use camp as an opportunity for relaxation and not to keep peering at that dense haze.* But I couldn't. The truth burned and scalded my face. Her lies felt like a wet blanket, soothing all the ache. It would be easier to oblige, to push aside dreams of justice and give in to her lies. But, no I couldn't. And I wouldn't. Cause to do so I'd betray someone's trust. Tear burned behind my eyes. I told him once again that I was alright. He let out a heavy side, left me at the school gates. Father knew I considered this my place. My safe place. My hiding place.
0
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 4:22 AM UTC
School gates
Twilight washes the bedlinens blue And striped with flickering light they seem to move And beckon us to lie in their folds, Drawing away our clothes, Pushing some to the floor. Who are we to resist, As the pretty song of strings off-key, Winding through the forest rain Like a goddess shedding robes, Manipulates our minds and skins, Only appeased by the union of Heaven and Earth, of you and I? Let us oblige them with our bodies, You descending like the rain upon me And I rising to you as the urgent river in waves Beneath you until we are One? If only for a night, in the Indonesian dark, The tinkling droplets on the roof, The flickering fires, the clouded desires. We will send our lust into the mist and air, So that it knows us when we are done at last, And in every night until the world ends.
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Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 11:24 AM UTC
Twilight
When I breathe my body is relieved. Where once timber, now limber. My posture is vibrant and silent. I'm cleansing my Violet. Violet where once crown, no longer a frown because I'm grounding, I'm grounding until my soul is unbound. I'm breathing, and when I'm breathing laughter reveals me but I focus, I focus and I don't let it seal me. I'm cooling, I'm cooling, and soothing my soul, so that it may stay open for one and for all. I meditate I abbreviate, small glimpses of light. So that the sugar of my solar may fall out - from my sight. I am serious, and my breath is sinuous. It awakens my mind, But these competitive thoughts: they do not oblige. So I keep breathing and breathing for full conscious feeling and through this procession my spirit is right. Spirit pouring out of my pores. I am rich with inner vision. What sun shall I bring up to clear division. What light shall I pour out tonight, Oh Sun I am ready to stand up for what's right.
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Jul 25, 2021
Jul 25, 2021 at 12:10 PM UTC
Violet Night