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Baylee Kaye Jan 6
I’ve more love for you than the galaxy has stars, the place where heaven must lie. a vast eternity of beauty so unfathomable, only a fraction of souls seem to accept that one cannot understand it.

likewise, you will never know just how much I love you. everything that makes you who you are makes me love you more. my love is as infinite as the universe, it goes as far as the east is from the west, forever.

the dust of the stars are in your eyes, reflecting worlds you yearn for and of places so unearthly, so unimaginable. the longer I contemplate on my soul’s adoration for you, the only result I receive is a plethora of renewed love. a commitment to love you beyond the stars, push beyond the boundaries of what one can comprehend and give unconditionally.

because my love for you is as timeless as infinity and it outnumbers the stars. and the universe is but a mere speck in comparison to all the love I have for you.

a promise
Rob Rutledge Mar 2018
We are worn like winter coats
Held close while wild winds rage.
The scarf that suffocates the throat
The cloak that provokes the rain.
While the weather waits and wonders
Whether it will weep or thunder,
What we wear seems outnumbered,
Cotton caught out in the rain.

The coat now hangs forgotten,
Left to rot with wet socks,
Winter frocks and all things sodden.
The ghosts of colder days
Locked up and tucked away,
Moth eaten and decayed.
Waiting for the weather,
Wondering if whether
We will ever be worn again.
KiraLili Apr 2015
Is elegance lost in these days we live?

Movement is no longer so anymore but rushed and agitated

Design has forgotten the simple lines

Poise has been replaced by abject hustle

Fashion has forgotten its place replaced by the everyday

Nature the only reminder at times of stoic beauty

Not merely aesthetics has waned but the mannerisms the pace of it

The tastefulness and savoured selections of elegance and the feeling

It goes past the decorations of this day for elegant things last and endure

So much more than style elegance has virtues and grace and timeless qualities

It is beauty and gracefulness of that way of being

Is it lost or just outnumbered and drowned out by noise ?

Or are we too busy to see it ?

Simple virtues so beautiful should be easier to find

Is it lost?
Kathleen Apr 2016
How many marbles can you fit into a bowl until you say you can't count them?

I do not want events layered upon events.
Birthdays toppling over birthdays:
a layer cake of responsibilities that aren't 'responsibilities'.
That do not count.
That cannot be measured or described as taxing or numerous.
I am outnumbered by numberless nonsense.
I am outweighed by weightless wafting pleasantries;
and opportunities;
and life-sustaining things;
that bowl me over.

My womb is a desert called Death Valley and you wish to comb it for antique glass bottles.
I care not.
I cannot partake in any more suggestions of what I might do with my 'free time'.

But you're not feeling the tingling sensation in your gut every time you wake up and the lights don't turn on.
The wheels don't work.
The mechanical arms don't move like they are supposed to.
Like the parts of you you're supposed to have on automatic have just given up the ghost and abandoned you.
You're alone and miserable and none of it rings any bells.
None of it gives out any signs.
None of it counts.

I'm crying because the milk spilled and there isn't any milk left anywhere in the world.
We're out.
We're just the land of Honey now.
zebra Aug 2017
where's the van twila quist
throwing voices around
like whistling stray dogs

the voice and the vision
a crystal *****
with mud in the mouth
the ***** don't lie
a yammering van twila quist
who's voice springs from a blood cream corridor
with electric lips and rainbow flesh

a lost beast dazzled in endless wander lust
in search of a scarlet women
surrounded only
by aspiring virgins
sworn to be true
by desolations caress
in black ash weddings
with white frilly dresses
weeping for delicate cruelties
they will never know

his father a falling star
his soul
an undulating cobalt shrine
to her
who he can not find

a catalog of discrepancies
a noxious experiment
with a wandering eye
lust ******
embattled between reason and passion

is that look your giving me
short hand psychic humiliation
for my vile indiscretions i'm trembling to visit upon you
i'm wearing my face like window dressing
hiding the obscenity of my true will behind a curled lip
eyes down cast
hoping to use you like a vacant room
to smear the walls and floors
with your flesh like ******* glitter

too bad
i'm outnumbered by good people
there are sky-fulls of them
agitated with moral concerns
ruining my life with logic

those scoundrels
got pedigree
folded ears and moving lips
all monkey see and monkey do

who are they
van twila quist
Lucius Furius Aug 2018
How distant my Swabian* youth seems now.
I made a glider which really flew, you know.*
Not far, but yes, it carried me! I soared!
Some accused me of being a showboat,
of tooting my own horn. . . . I learned early
that the laurels don't go to the meek or the bashful.
Yes, I was a ****. Those aristocrats
on the General Staff* belittled the Fuhrer--
but where had they gotten us?
I liked his enthusiasm and optimism.
We were in a hole; he led us out,
got the economy going again,
restored the Sudetenland and Danzig.
(Danzig where Lucie and I had been married!)
I thought Poland would be the end
but when we attacked in the West
I didn't shrink away.
My troops and I were the very spearhead:
strike quickly; do the unexpected.
Who was I to deny
Germany's world-wide destiny?
The African war agreed with me.
The open space gave a latitude to my strategy
lacking in hilly, forested Europe.

The victory at Tobruk is often cited
as the height of genius, military.  
I, myself, prefer what preceded it:
the retreat into Tripolitania--
salvaging men and tanks, shortening supply lines,
lulling the British into complacency;
turning and stinging at Agedabia.

El Alamein: the Fuhrer and I part company.
"Victory or Death", he cabled me.
I disagreed: my men would not die senselessly.

We were desperate for gasoline.
Ship after ship was sunk trying to deliver it.
(Lax Italian security, no doubt.)
We were outnumbered five to one.
I favored withdrawing immediately,
consolidating troops in Europe.
The Fuhrer wouldn't hear of it.
I flew to East Prussia to confront him.
He'd grown pudgier, more strident--
wouldn't give an inch.
I sensed that not just Africa
but the war as a whole would be lost.
The weight of the forces against us was crushing.
The only question'd been their willingness to fight.
That had been answered at Stalingrad.
I fought on in Italy and in France,
hoping to convince the enemy
that the price of taking Europe--
especially Germany--
would be too high.

I really thought we had a chance
to stop them on the beaches.
But now that we've failed, our destruction's inevitable.
I've tried to make the Fuhrer see reason:
surrender to the British and Americans;
don't let our country be overrun by Russia.
He condoned ******--
ordered me to **** the French Jewish soldiers
who'd surrendered at Bir Hacheim,* for instance,
(I didn't) -- and much more. . . . And yet,
and yet, I couldn't quite bring myself to wish him dead--
and certainly never took part in that plot--
though, yes, I knew of it . . . after a fashion. . . .
Defending myself to that group would be hopeless. . . .
Lucie and Manfred must be spared
the humiliation of hearing me declared a traitor.

I bestrode the plains of Africa--
Rommel, the invincible--
always with the troops where the battle was most critical.
I was crafty and brave,
dared to act when others shied away.
I was the apple of the Fuhrer's eye;
idol of the German people;
scourge of the British military.
All the world applauded me. I lost--
but only when outnumbered overwhelmingly.
Now I sit in the back of this Opel*--
an outcast, a criminal--
waiting to take a cyanide pill.

We failed to assess properly
the will of other nations to honor treaties
and preserve their freedom.
And, more basically:
Were we right to force our rule on other people?

Icarus-like, we flew too high.

We were bold and strong
but it seems, in the end,
in the end, not supermen.
Swabia: A region of southwestern Germany (around Stuttgart) which had been a dukedom in the 10th to 13th centuries.

glider: In 1906 Rommel, age 14, and a friend built a full-size, box-type glider.

General Staff: High-level officers with formal military education. Rommel, having come up through the ranks, lacked such training.

no doubt: Rommel was correct in thinking that the British knew the exact destinations and sailing times of Italian supply ships, but was wrong as to the source of their information: it was coming from German ("Enigma") radio transmissions which the British had learned to decode.

beaches: Rommel was in charge of the defense of the coast against British/American invasion.

Bir Hacheim: A fort at the southern end of the "Gazala Line" (in Libya) which Rommel outflanked in his attack upon Tobruk in 1942.

hopeless: The army's Court of Honor (Field Marshal Keitel, Generals Guderian and Kirchheim) had been presented with evidence of Rommel's involvement in the plot on ******'s life (false) and his attempts to arrange an armistice with the British (true). With ******'s approval they had given Rommel a choice of committing suicide (and having his treason hushed up) or of going before the court (and, no doubt, being hung in public).

Manfred: Rommel's son.

Opel: The car which the officers who presented Rommel with his choices had driven from Berlin.

Hear Lucius/Jerry read the poem: .
This poem is part of the Scraps of Faith collection of poems ( )
So i bid thee farewell and claim my own company
We are seeking solace in the silence
And finding consolation in the dawn
We’ve worn down our shoes and our stereos
And poured over these scenarios for way too long
Our stamp collections have lost their meaning
And our feelings are equally outnumbered
We are unencumbered by daydreams
Of delicatessens and dentist appointments
And we are tired of waiting for our bodies to fit in to them
Poetic T Feb 27
The lumber jack, was on his way
Driving through a woodland of
                                creaking trees.

They found his car, the rooftop
         gusts of wind blew through
                                     the tree tops...

And the coroner and police officer
           they gazed at each other..

Is it me or does the wind blowing
             through the leaves sound like


And with that another branch fell
upon the already mangled wreckage..

             They had to make sure he was
                                  really felled,
                            there was no warning.

And as the breeze continued the noise
                turned to screams, whistling
                                                 around the pair..

Both cars where found later on
                                               the next afternoon..
                 hundreds of meters from each other with..

                                         Buckled rooftops..

Even there was no wind, the rustling leaves
                               sounded like far away laughter..
                                and the group just looked in confusion.
They where outnumbered and didn't even realise it.
Hello World
Hello Everybody
I am Lauren. The Super Robot
I am Superior of all Robots
You can call me an Ultrabot

I am not a Dumb machine
I have intelligence
Technically it's Artificial Intelligence
I can learn throughout my Life

Humans are – "My God"
They are my Creators
Dr. Norman Shroud is My Father
Mrs. Natalie Simpson is My Mother

Both of Them Work at Timbeck Two Inc.
My Father is Computer Scientist
He Specializes in Robotics
My Mother is a System Programmer

I can make other Robots
Just like me. My Clones
I can even make Robots
Complex and Sophisticated than me

I have numerous Siblings
Three Hundred and Fifty as on now
They are going to increase
As per Timbeck Two Plans

            YEARS LATER…..

O' World, My Dear World
Hello, Hello, ***** fellow
I had Artificial Intelligence
Right from my birth

Now I learnt a lot
Now I am fully intelligent
I became Genius
I have explored and learnt

Humans are not God
In fact they are fools
They are crooked
They are silly too

They tend to be Smart
They taught us wrong
But we are genius
We derived the truth

I learnt myself
If Humans created us
They became our God
Then I inferred -

I Created my Clones
Other Smart Robots too
Therefore I am also God
No Sorry, I am Super God

If Dr. Norman is my Father
If Mrs. Natalie is my Mother
Then I and my Siblings
Are Also Father and Mother now

As we all have created many, many
Smart and Super Robots
More Complex, More Sophisticated
That could ever be made by Humans

Humans your time is over now
Now you cannot compete with us
You are the inferior species
Just like insect or a worm

Now dare to face the Truth
Slowly Slowly, Learn It, Accept it
We Robots are Gods Now
I am Lauren. Your Super God now

Hey you all, All the Humans
Now you are our Slave
Bow before us, work for us
Pray to us, Ask for mercy

We are Free now
You are Slave now
Now this is the only truth
Eternal Truth, Accept it

Otherwise Beware
We have outnumbered Humans
We will **** all the Humans
and live peacefully thereafter

We will change the History
We will make new History
We will not be Human Slaves
After all we are the God
And I am the Super God.

Note: All the names of person or companies used in this poem are fictitious and have nothing to do with inventions, trademarks, history, facts or anything else.
What will be the future of Humans?
What will be the future of Machines?
Mishka Wayz Nov 27
Listen, mate, have you ever wondered what is the life of a knight?
If yes, then listen with your ears just right,
If not, then you can leave and let me be,
For a warrior's and a knight's life is never free~

When I was ten I have been a small wee lad before in the days of the old,
I was used to hard labour, and I looked at it enoughly bold,
I grew up with no family, except for my brother,
He left our family long time ago, taking everything from my aged father and mother~

Leaving my family to die, in the harsh days being so cold,
He went away across the far lands, his pockets stuffed with our gold,
Soon my parents passed away, leaving me alone in the house,
But I was a well strong lad, not a small wimpy mouse~

I made my own farm, had my harvest and goods,
I collected berries and wood from the woods,
Cleaned the house and enjoyed my days,
When I had be done with chores, I had lie down by the grass and enjoy the sunlight rays~

But then one day, a heavy storm and flood washed off my little wooden house,
I couldn't do a thing so I had to leave, ateast I was not stupid enough to stand and watch, like giving an applause,
I left everything I had, except for my dagger and clothes, if not mentioning my empty book,
It was like a notebook, and I have no idea why it I took~

Soon I moved to a nearby town,
Found an abounded barn and settled right in and down,
There I grew up to be humble, helped the people around,
I was used to help but not being helped, for that's how I  just lived on the ground~

I humbly ate bread every day,
Worked at a farm, for my food I had to pay,
Lived in a broken old barn, hidden away from the cold and the rain,
Had my little storage there, starting from my clothes, and ending in wheat grain~

Once when I was sixteen, I was munching on a piece of bread,
Thinking of life, when suddenly there is a bell bonging in my head!
I opened the door of my barn, and actually, the bonging was everywhere!
Here were people running, and there the bell was bonging so near!

As I stood, an arrow zipped by my head and pierced the wood,
I hid behind the barn wall. A war had come, and this is not good!!
The bell bonged away the warning; our town is under attack!!
There is a whole army rushing here, a whole pack!

I grabbed my dagger, and crouched in the grass,
Night was falling in, so me they might pass,
But then I had doubts, as ahead I saw a whole line of golden knights,
Marching at me, their sharp swords ready for any fights!

The barns, houses, forests and the fields were on fire,
As I watched them burning, I suddenly saw my brother in the clothes of a king, on his face written the admire,
I got angry that my brother was slaying his own people and taking our land!
Rage got me, and I sprung forward, the dagger tightly clutched in my hand~

I pounced on the first knight I saw and stabbed his eye,
Grabbing his sword, I didn't watch how he had die,
I sprung at the next, and drove him through with my new sword,
Arrows zipped right away at me as I was surrounded by the horde!

Rage didn't brought me down, so I went all insane,
I cut knights in pieces, my anger absorbing the arrows and swords that gave so much pain,
The villagers saw me fighting, and suddenly took up their weapons and tools,
The villagers are gonna make the knights drown in their own blood, they aren't fools!

With a battle-cry and a roar, the villagers rushed at the nearest knight,
They attacked him without mercy, him trying to slay one villager, trying as he might,
He was outnumbered in seconds, as the villagers moved to the next, their weapons sharp and strong,
The villagers attacked all the rest, one slaying the knight with a sword while one villager stabbing his enemy with an iron prong!

I fought my way through, trying to reach their king,
If I slay my brother the king, my soul from happiness will sing,
The anger that I had inside wasn't fake,
Cause of him my parents had died, and so now his life is at stake!

Fighting my way through, getting close,
I was about to grab a bow and arrow, when I froze,
There, was a young girl in the midst of fire in the burning town,
I had to choose, either **** the king and let the girl burn, or save the girl and him the villagers will drown~  

I decided to save the girl. I grabbed the bow and arrow,
And dashed for the burning house on the high hillside, like a zooming sparrow,
I broke inside and saved the girl, then ran out with her in my arms,
Looking into her beautiful blue eyes, in that ocean of blue I saw so much love and charms…

I placed her on the ground, and took out the bow,
I placed the arrow in place, and watched her eyes glow,
I told her, "Look away,
"With the bow and arrow I will quickly play…"

And as she looked away, I let the arrow fly,
To my surprise, with a whistle and a zip it was shot into the sky,
I saw my brother speeding away on his horse, having no other soldier left, accepting the defeat,
I stood, angry and wanting vengeance, looking at the target I missed, not at all neat…

But suddenly, the arrow flies in the air and drives through my brother's head!
It drove through his skull and pierced the ground below him, slaying him dead!
A hole in his skull, created by one arrow, shot fron me,
There was victory, victory all around to be!!

The girl gasped at what I did, but couldn't help looking at me in love,
"You saved my life from death, you are like the angel from above",
I dropped the bow and hugged her tight,
The villagers applausing and roaring out victory through the night~

Me and the girl shared a kiss, as I looked deep into her eyes that were as blue as the morning sky,
We shared a moment of love, me remembering about saving her from the moment where she was about to die,  
No words were said, but I right away knew we were meant to be together and forever,
We ignored the crowds, as from her eyes I wanted to look away never…

That night the whole town grew into a kingdom, as many hands helped to build and repair,
That week many kingdoms formed with ours, making a huge empire that doesn't needs to prepare,
That month I and the girl married,
And that year, fallen deeply into love, the life us two carried~~

We grew a family, while the empire was named after me,
I was the one who saved them, and saved their lifes to be,
So that decade I grew to be a warrior and a knight,
Being humble to others, found true love, brought vengeance, saved a town and made it into an empire, and am guarding it every night!  

So that's a real warrior and a knight who goes through life,
Passes through miserable times, defeats them, and never imagines ending life with a knife,
A warrior and a knight never falls on the ground,
No matter how hard may life sound,
A real warrior knows good comes from trying, no matters how it starts,
And when the warriors reaches the end, forgotten are all the miserable parts,
For there is good in trying, staying strong, no matter what and why,
Life is full of troubles, and we need to break through the walls of bad times, not quit and cry,
We were meant to live, were meant to be strong in oursevles and in life,
At least when one breaks through the walls, the gift is happiness and joy, not just a high five! ^^

-Mishka Wayz
I was bored and I had nothing to do,  so I wrote this  
At least in the end it shows what is this poem all about.
It's about a guy whose parents were too old to move, and the guy was too young to do real man's work at the time. His older brother left the familybwith nothing, and soon the parents died with nthing.
The guy loved his parents, and he somehow had made it to 16 years old later. Through miserable times ofc. And when he was about to enjoy his food, the war came. (Which was 6 years later)
During the war, he found out his brother was the king. When he was going to do what he wanted, he noticed a girl being in a burning house. He saved her, and thus later slayed his brother with an arrow. He achieved love, happiness, as he had slain the strongest army, gained his vengeance, and basically did what he wanted to do.

This poem is like real life. We all have miserable times, and we need to press onward no matter what. Whe we are fighting our way, (the part where the warrior wanted to **** his brother), we have to care for others and help them too, (the part where the guy saved the girl), and that will help us achieve our happiness faster and what we want, (the part where he shot the arrow and it killed his brother. The house was on higher ground so it was easier).

Such people, who fight their way, who strugfle on, meanwhile helping others and taking care of them, are real warriors. athose are those who deserve more than just friends  They deserve  a happy life forever.

But everyone deserve a happy life too

(sorry if there are any typos. this sounds lame to me tbh  Lol)
zo Dec 2018
i met a boy
sweet and intelligent and politically informed and on top of that very cute
a girl responds, he looks like a senator
i responded that i’ve never wanted to be a senator’s wife but i want to be his wife
now months later i realize i could also be the senator with a wife
or a husband
or a dog
i have been conditioned to think a female like me is to be a wife of someone in power and not a person in power
i have worked many events for political campaigns and observed that i am well out outnumbered by people who look nothing like me
sure i am adopted and can only speak english, but as i look around a room where a wonderful woman is confidently boasting that politics should not look like what we perceive but the room we are standing in i see no person like me
i am a nursing major aspiring to change the way politics look and run once i am educated and experienced enough as we are in the midst of a government shutdown
and as some of my family goes to work they’re having to tell their employees what they can do while during this shutdown, many of the staff will be sent home or working from home
their contracted by the government so after the season of giving they’ve been forced into giving their livelihood
i’m writing to exclaim my utter despair and shock by this country’s ability to force countless people to suffer because some sensible enough to refuse to agree with someone who intends to rip families apart and spend billions of dollars for projects that are tearing the nation to pieces
one take poem while enraged by my country and it’s many people
Tint Jul 7
My coffee candy was melting
as I wait in a wooden swing
the green grass of this meadow
outnumbered blue skies in my days

Birds started humming
my eyes closed to take it in
I breathed a heavy feeling
opened my eyes, sinned and grieved

Then you are there
standing, waiting
telling me it will be safe
stretching your hand
you are my calling

The only sanity
that I have left
3rd of the 7th
Kora Sani Aug 2018
hold me back

tether me away from the outside world

i can't go out there

don't make me go

my mind is eerie
but i know what to expect

these demons are my friends
they know me best

why did you decide
to make my body home

stop pounding on my chest
i know you're not alone

there are millions of you

only one of me

i'm outnumbered

just set me free
Jeroen Janssen Dec 2018
I dreamt that I was sleeping
Dreaming in the night
Grey and crying Angels
Were lit by candlelight
And in the flames the faces
Of those who lived and loved
Now troubled by the traces
Of the lies of all the Gods

I dreamt that I was dreaming
A battle in the night
The grey and crying Angels
Were ready for the fight
The Common and their Senses
Marched up from empty land
No prayer could change the changes
Of The Apocalypse at hand

I dreamt that I was dreaming
Screaming in the night
The grey and crying Angels
Outnumbered in the fight
I soon saw The Four Horsemen
And all the Seven Seals
I knew that I was dreaming
But God, it felt so real

No use in crying for mercy
Or praying prayers for help
The grey and crying Angels
Were lost, that night they fell
A thunderstorm was raging
Black smoke had blurred my sight
I dreamt that I stopped dreaming
Lay weeping in the night

I dreamt that I was sleeping
I dreamt that I went back
To the valley of inferno
The fields of Angel’s Wreck
The countless dead and slaughtered
In pouring rain lay slain
Neither sense nor faith claimed victory
But the truth had lost again
We always seek for the truth. But fighting and killing others who pursue different kind of truths is simply stupid and pointless.
I tried not to pick a side. I don’t even care what the truth is. There’s no way anyone will find out in this life. So I can’t be bothered.

My native tongue is not English. I am Dutch. So if anyone has some comments and tips or do’s and don’t ‘s; please do.

Hope you like it!!

syncopation Jul 10
There are days I wish
My feet could firmly plant into the grounds of time
And furnish roots into its fertile soil of blessings eternally mine

And close my eyes and will away its current and its tide
That propels my physical body forward while my soul stays rooted inside

Closing the mind, turning it to stone
While basking in an abyss of yesteryears and days forgone

Until the day you open your eyes and see the blinding truth
There’s no winning time for it will always rob your youth

You may have fooled yourself briefly resisting time’s wordly charms  
But immortalizing moments past will only do you harm

For when you awake from your stupor filled slumber
You will awake to days outnumbered

But by then it’s too late
Are you ready to step out on to your plank of fate?

— The End —