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"ocassional" poems
With dreams comes nightmares , and thoughts come dreams , life is a dream is it not ? one day you won't wake up , are we even awake ? Is life just one big dream with the ocassional nightmare ? I mean you do make life the way you want it ..... Eventually .... But for now you just keep dreaming thinking everything is fine , untill .... One night you wake up to an old dream , an old memory , a sad memory you thought mabey was gone , s good sleep woken up by a great memory to be shattered into sadness when your eyes meet the day light , is the dream the best part of life , to see what you want what you used to have , love , touch , smell ,or is it the now the new views , people lifestyle , what is better people ask , the response its different , undiscribeable , just different , nothigng is that similar if anything at all new towns , new states , west and east , sunrise to sunset , the thoughts end the dreams , the goals and the memories , the past and the future are what make who you are from yesterday to today, the past is missed but the now is today so what will my next day bring , who knows but I'm excited for everyday !
0
Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 4:09 AM UTC
dreams
Have you wished someone dead? Self doesn't count. Terminally ill don't count, In fact, that may be construed as kind. No. Someone vibrant, strong, Sure and vain, like: The relentless bully, The cop at your door, The ridiculing teacher Who made you the fool. The betrayer and rumour monger, Your prosecutors, some persecutors, An ocassional critic. The machine voice, The government, The ****** and child molester, The boko haram (all terrorists) Even some family members, But never your children. Some on your own list. Close your eyes and pick one With a pin. You can't wait for the uncertainty Of Karma or God, Or them to go to the devil. You can't depend on toilets falling from planes, Tornados dropping houses. It's not illegal: half of us do it. Billions believe it possible. I envision driving the final nail myself. At certain times, it's true, I regret the absence of hell With its gnashing, its unquenchable fires, That burn without consuming: The smelly, curling, shrinking flesh, The bubbling of fat through skin, Because sudden death Just doesn't cut it.
0
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC
Wishing For Death
The nerve endings under my skin Scream at your every touch Your hand brushes my neck And on my cheeks a light blush You bring your face closer to mine I wait for your lips to make contact Taking a deep breath pretending I'm fine But really my heart is racing so fast I'm very close to dying My back against the wall Your arms there to catch me if I fall In one swift action We are lips to lips Hands pulling us hips to hips Tongues taking ocassional dips Into the well of each others mouths And the weight crushing feeling Can only be described with jumbled nouns Which doesn't make any sense Because my feelings in this moment Are a complete and total mess All I know for a fact Is the fact that I want more So with a graceful tact We stumbled across the floor As we made it to the bed You whispered sweet nothing's into my ear I don't remember what you said But it drove away all my fear And as you made love to me that night I finally saw your soul in pure light
0
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 7:02 PM UTC
Last night.
The film just ended and I am faithfully here, waiting. Independently of my dependence on you and that now I am not concerned about my concerns, I wait, for your message because I have sacrificed quite a bit for such an uncertain reward as your love might be —I almost wrote lofe—, and waiting for a reply is a bit quieter. I'm sure you must be busy, I am busy too, thinking 'bout you, waiting like I have been for months I guess, till you realised that I am not the only one in need of the other. During this wandering, 'Have you answered?' that's my ocassional wondering, but I check, and you haven't. Doesn't matter. I just wanted to write while I wait. Somewhat patiently. (Laughs) However, it is close to 01:30, thus, as said my role, Demetrius, in our adaptation or version: "I'm tired. I think I'll get some rest."
0
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 7:26 PM UTC
Waiting
Today The tears have managed to slip out Bringing about the red eyes, choked out cries of what life is really like Inside these four walls At every corner i cave Knowing if i stand up i will get slammed down down to where i curl up dead, still wishing for a better life inside these four walls I live in fear for tomorrow Afraid i might finally have the courage to press down deep enough to expose the anger that runs through my veins everyday inside these four walls Mother and father is what they call themselves nuturing us with love and care protecting us from the evil that is out there but is there a difference from the evil out there and the evil that is stained on these four walls Forced to play by their rules We follow them blindly even with the ocassional abuse "you're not white" excuse marks of bruises that show our traditional ways of life inside these four walls. Crying is not allowed no sugarcoating when we're down we live only for your purpose of control and possession choices made under your disgretion indide these four walls it's all i've ever known there's no place like home.
0
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 6:02 AM UTC
My Island Home
Once I soared with eagles my guardian angel by my side. Walking tall with confidence caused my foes to run and hide. I chose my battles carefully; I picked the place and time. If any son dared cross me I knew his *** was mine. I remember ocassional setbacks; times when the going got rough, but the things that should only helped to make me tough. I guess I thought there was a God. I prayed once in a while, but I knew I didn't need his help to go an extra mile. I rebelled against authority; took all the freedom I could get. I could not allow myself to lose a fight; my *** ain't been kicked yet. Needing victory in every duel became my prison cell. As I leaned hard against the wind my soul set sail for Hell. I didn't know it left me; I didn't see it stray Fighting one last battle, it would just get in my way. This battle was the hardest; it took five years to win. Revenge and anger were my weopens; I wore them like a grin. When the fight was nearly over and victory was near, I prayed to God," return my soul" but He didn't seem to hear. I'd look for without Him; this heart that I had lost. I'd win it back all by myself no matter what the cost. Now standing on the pinnicle, I fearfully looked around. My soul would not have come up here; it's too far from hallowed ground. Starting back down along the path; frought with struggle and with strife, I found I was decending through the wreckage of my life. While pawing through the ashes of the bridges I had burned, I found the charred remains of all the lessons I had learned. Confused and battle weary; I could not tell wrong from right, but I prayed that at the freefalls end there might be truth and light. Now I'm lying in the smoke and fire at the crash site of my soul peering out through Godless eyes as a snake peers from his hole. I should have had some warning; a shot across my bow but my spirit spiraled down and down and look where I am now. Like a marble in a funnel, my soul spun 'round and down. With a lack of positive energy it finnaly hit the ground. Now I'm at the bottom With no way to go but up. God, please give me the strength to feed my soul; your sacred wine to fill my cup. This was the first poem I was ever able to right. At age 56 it came to me in a dream and I got up and wrote it down.
0
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 12:17 PM UTC
Climbing to the Bottom
Once I soared with eagles my guardian angel by my side. Walking tall with confidence caused my foes to run and hide. I chose my battles carefully; I picked the place and time. If any son dared cross me I knew his *** was mine. I remember ocassional setbacks; times when the going got rough, but the things that should only helped to make me tough. I guess I thought there was a God. I prayed once in a while, but I knew I didn't need his help to go an extra mile. I rebelled against authority; took all the freedom I could get. I could not allow myself to lose a fight; my *** ain't been kicked yet. Needing victory in every duel became my prison cell. As I leaned hard against the wind my soul set sail for Hell. I didn't know it left me; I didn't see it stray Fighting one last battle, it would just get in my way. This battle was the hardest; it took five years to win. Revenge and anger were my weopens; I wore them like a grin. When the fight was nearly over and victory was near, I prayed to God," return my soul" but He didn't seem to hear. I'd look for without Him; this heart that I had lost. I'd win it back all by myself no matter what the cost. Now standing on the pinnicle, I fearfully looked around. My soul would not have come up here; it's too far from hallowed ground. Starting back down along the path; frought with struggle and with strife, I found I was decending through the wreckage of my life. While pawing through the ashes of the bridges I had burned, I found the charred remains of all the lessons I had learned. Confused and battle weary; I could not tell wrong from right, but I prayed that at the freefalls end there might be truth and light. Now I'm lying in the smoke and fire at the crash site of my soul peering out through Godless eyes as a snake peers from his hole. I should have had some warning; a shot across my bow but my spirit spiraled down and down and look where I am now. Like a marble in a funnel, my soul spun 'round and down. With a lack of positive energy it finnaly hit the ground. Now I'm at the bottom With no way to go but up. God, please give me the strength to feed my soul; your sacred wine to fill my cup. This was the first poem I was ever able to right. At age 56 it came to me in a dream and I got up and wrote it down.
Continue reading...
75
Where once lay a palatial house Today there lies the ruins of a desolated structure A carnival of rust and dirt Torn and tattered A structure which was once filled with life Is now worse than a corpse Cobwebs and ghosts are it's inhabitants A place where once children used to play And every festival was celebrated with immense joy Where on new year's eve the entire house used to be dressed up in lights Where once the sun used to shine bright Today at that place even the moon doesn't come out at night The stars have long left that place And faded away into oblivion It's always dark there...never will you see any trace of light A weird smell and an eerie silence that is what defines the house now The ocassional passerby still sometimes looks at the house and wonders--how??? How could a structure so grand be reduced to this? Just goes to show that no matter how grand,beautiful and powerful you might be With the advent of time everything depreciates Time catches up with everyone and everything And once you enter the winter of your life Slowly but surely The blackhole of death pulls you towards it
0
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 4:54 AM UTC
Untitled 307
Muscles ache, Exhaustion sets in My head is in a bit of a spin What is this Gym, where people partake? I thought you said Gin for goodness sake! Kettle bells, weight machines, deadman lifts Grin and bare it, lift, lift, lift! Treadmills, rowing machines, standing bikes Keep going 30 secs on, 15 secs off is what we like! Muscle men and woman showing their skills Pushing heavy weights just for thrills My Person Trainer is one of the best Until it comes to putting me to the test Then i dont like him very much He keeps me going when i just want to give up However he knows my goals And i trust he will get me there So for the moment i grin and bare I will keep going to the Gym And of course partake in the ocassional Gin :)
0
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 1:34 PM UTC
The Gym
A loving dog is an unmatched prize unconditional devotion and unrivaled joy highest pleasure in the smallest of treats persistence with (ocassional) fearlessness unmatched energy for short car rides turning inside out in excess excitement highest stretch for meat thought beyond reach rarely without a glorious itch A loving dog is an unmatched prize and our loss unmatched at this, our last goodbye.
0
Jul 23, 2022
Jul 23, 2022 at 7:25 AM UTC
Hamish
Lifes a chuckle and the jokes on you Life can be trouble with the ocassional Cordeon bleu, The ins and outs of who I'm I, and how do I relate to you? A colidoscope of perceptions altered by cruel vices, how do I make amends with fresh blood on my hands. How do I love when I don't even hate? slues of pornagraphy alter my thoughts. Existence can be ****** when you've seen so many ***** ***** Funny haha or funny dismiss? Laughing until the tension burns out and my mind sets off on a new route. Does being strong make me a man? Doing situps until I'm responsible, what a joke as am I. I'm really not quite sure whats happens when you die, but one things for **** sure you should try to enjoy the ride.
0
Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 5:02 PM UTC
Funny haha?
such is this dreary rainy week cool numbness, yet not freezing brisk winds flap the droplets from young spring leaves sun blinking from passing clouds under this canopy I stand watch waiting for a glimpse of you sun's ocassional shadow of trees plays on my mind, your voice resonates, whispered trickery so incomplete to mother earth it seems, your footprints cease who will tend to the ****** plants caress with caring hands, nurture will they bear their friut, alone such are my thoughts on this dreary rainy week, droplets fall from my eyes, misty view under this canopy,I stand watch waiting for a glimpse of you
0
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 10:34 PM UTC
Untitled
The mind wanders when one can't sleep. Night sounds crescendo to shooting stars. Dreamscapes under sheets are put on hold. Lights twinkle from ocassional bridge traffic. All because of a late cup of coffee and some girl time.
0
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 3:58 AM UTC
3:56 AM
you speak in in terms of ocassional bias pull me into your selfish emotions then shun my heartfelt responses were am I to go this back and forth conversations should even out at the middle line yet that line bows in your favor and poke at my eyes were am I to go take my heart upon your stake and swallow it at your convenience then toss it on the third rail then I will know were I am to go
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May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 9:46 PM UTC
were I am to go
Life is like sand...the more you try to grasp it and hold it tightly in your fists,the more it keeps slipping through your fingers.Stop trying to plan,analyse and control each and every aspect of your life.At times it's best to just go with the flow.Let life be your guide for a while.Let it take it's own course...see it where it takes you and when you feel like you need to act and take matters into your own hand..do that...but unless and until that point arrives just experience and enjoy the ride of life.It will never be a smooth ride...there will be the ocassional bumps...but it's exciting and fun too.
0
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 1:01 AM UTC
Quotes 85