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zsazsa Oct 2016
The good
The bad
And Me, The ugly
I'm not the first nor the last to be bullied
Ugly
For years I let that stick in my head
Doubted myself
Pills! I tried to end this life
But I'm growing
I like her
I like the girl in the mirror
I like her long face
Her brown eyes
Her dark, small lips
The scar on her thigh
Her tiny waist
Her coffee skin
Ugly?!
What is that?
Oh yah I know, the world
The world is ugly
But she
She
Is
B
E
A
U
T
I
F
U
L
ryn Oct 2014
It's a dance
It really is
Skip and prance
Lifelong practice

Loop of songs
Never ending
Of various genres
Life is playing

There's the spotlight
World is awaiting
Pressure of eyes
Silently watching

Take your place
Assume your position
Execute with finesse
And flawless precision

Spin your pirouettes
Don't get dizzy
Maintain your poise
In this revelry

Along comes a partner
Present as a duo
The game now altered
From when you were solo

Two bodies now
Move in unison
Reciprocate and reply
Through steps made in heaven

Flighty feet
Intertwined bodies limbre
Sweet little performance
Elapsing into forever

With grace of ballet
Each other you'd catch
Intimate display
Think you've found your match

There'll come such time
Both will not be in sync
Episodes of missteps
Push you to the brink

Alone again
Or switch of partners
Find solace in groups
Still dancing for answers

Dancing with others
Much you can learn
From hip hop to the waltz
Together or in turn

Try to adapt
To different styles
Soak up all you can
May take a while

I've danced all my life
Can't say that I've mastered
Fair share of jeers
And accolades I've garnered

Always clumsy
Exceedingly awkward
Tripping and falling
Barely proceeding forward

It's just this dance
One with syncopated beats
It's just this prance
That my gait can't meet
It's just this stance
I often use as retreat
I realised in a glance
That I have...but

**two left feet
Christian Ek Apr 2015
Fights break out within every person.
Everyone has a battle they need to win.
Overcoming trials and tribulations;
It is hard to lose a loved one or to get rid of a traumatizing memory.
Some are running, some have stood their ground and some have lost their way.
I remember this when I smile, I remember this when I bring joy into people's day or inspire them to try something new and tell them to stay positive.
Because I've been there too.
And I don't want you to fight this battle alone like I did.
Until she came along and saved me with a smile and began to believe in me.
jane taylor May 2016
transported back into those walls
running down the basement hall
i locked the door so i could hide
and reaching for a 45
with practically no voice at all
i sang along and prayed
to drown you out

does the soul regenerate?
what part of me did you take?
your verbal threats would make me gasp
no one could hear when I called out
record player winding ‘round
i tried to yell
but couldn’t shout

yet something you did cultivate
a plan you helped to propagate
for each and every time i ran
like a builder in a gym
i’d sing a song and sing again
strengthening the chords within
empowering my voice

©2016janetaylor
Bruce Demos Apr 8
No wrongs to right, no lost love to mourn,
I must concoct an awful lot of falsified accounts.
But why should I neglect my life,
For self-burnt homes and hidden doubts?
DT Brewer Mar 12
Fight or flight
That was my plight
Distracted driver
Temporarily took my power
Praying for sleep
Counting the sheep
It’s like treading water in the deep
Can I keep pushing through?
Not sure quite what to do

Visions of chrome grills
Drenched with chills
Flashback night
Nightmare day
Will this ever go away?

EMDR
Got back to driving the car
Taking buspar
Have I come that far?

One foot in front of the other
A daily mantra loaned by my brother
It’s important to only focus on today
It’s all we have, wise people say

Life is an ongoing journey
So very grateful for His mercy
I continue to battle and refuse to cower
After all, I’ve learned I’m no fragile flower
Blake Aug 7
You can't say I've lost myself when
I purposefully threw me out.

That person is somewhere in a trash can,
wearing clothes with footprints that will never be washed away
MarvelMe Oct 2018
Don't give up
You're built strong
God gave you a backbone
Just hang on

If no one loves you, I will
You have nothing to atone
I'm here you'll never be alone

Has anyone told you that you're beautiful?
But realize, you were a handful

Don't focus on what's on the outside
That was never the game plan
See what's on the inside
That's how we think man

I am you now
And I saw you then
You never gave up
And and made cool friends

You did well
You stood strong
You were weak
Now you built bonds

Don't give up ever
You didn't then not now and never forever
10/1/2018
I picked up writing again. Reading all my old poems made me wanna cry, so I wrote this to console myself
Desire Apr 15
There is purpose for your pain,
and progression after perseverance.
You need only to be patient and
keep pushing through the process...

endure | persevere | conquer

"you are more than a conqueror"

@desire.is.dope
20190415
1129HRS
OVERCOMING
@desire.is.dope
20190415
1129HRS
rosy conquers Oct 2018
she cried on the third
in the middle of the night
cradling her sorrows
which resurfaced from the burrow

the hurt was sparkling greatly
holding an immense armor of maybe
maybe she's still the girl from the past
maybe she can never be steadfast

she let it drown her
until the tears were over
then she closed her eyes, took a flight
this is good night

it took sixteen days
before another night turned to a haze
tomorrow is a new labyrinth to walk through
inhale, exhale; she's more than her blues
Paul Hansford Dec 2016
If I could be a super-hero,
I would be your Bee-Man.

I would fly over continents and oceans,
over forests and gardens,
until I found you,
my Rose Queen.
My super-powers would detect
your pink petals
from far off.
Down I would fly,
drawn to the exquisite beauty
silkily emerging from the heart of you,
your blushing petals
unfolding for me.

Gently but firmly
my long, loving tongue would press
between those dew-moistened folds,
unable to resist the perfume
overcoming me.

Tugged in
by your intoxicating scent,
your nectar I would sup
until I could drink no more.

Then, transforming
the sweet nectar
you had so willingly granted me
into my rich, creamy honey,
created especially for you,
I would penetrate
between your soft petals,
find your hidden depths,
and to repay you for the delight
your fragrant nectar had given me,
magically inject my honey into you,
to fertilise you again and again,
penetrating to the essential heart of you,
until my store was empty,
and we would both feel
the most exquisite joy of all.

I can only hope that you dream of it as I do,
that you wish it also,
and that some day our dreams can come together
as we would.
Selena Jan 17
Addiction
Is 2am stumbling in slurring all your words
Addiction is when the needle is so far in your vein that it aches and pulses
Addiction is when your nose burns from not the first but the 20th line
You tell your self I’m not addicted I don’t have a problem but your family is begging with pleading eyes and you sit with bleeding veins as you tell yourself just one more Adderall you don’t see how far gone you are until you’re gone because you would rather give up your own life rather then the Xanax hanging from your hand you say it’s an escape but this escape is calling death upon yourself
You’re a prisoner to the drugs begging with pleading eyes for someone to ask you how you’re doing but when they don’t you’ll sit in the dimly lit kitchen as pills caress your hand you’ll wonder why no one asked you. You feel alone so you’ll fill the void with another shot of liquid gold and when you’re finally able to sleep after days of escaping your day meres you’ll realize the reason why no one asked how you were and as the realization sets in you’ll take out the needle and throw away the pills as your nightmares begin to fade and the smile on your face comes into play you’ll realize I made it out of this.
Lara Ozdemir Dec 2018
Slippy slimy slime
Slugging through time
Sublime hate crime
It’s a pain going through mine
• • •
Don’t you know?
What it’s like to fight with all your might
Pity going through
But at the end
You’ve won the battle
A teenager’s chapter
Tamara Lynn Mar 24
An island in the sea
Is where I longed to be
Blissfully safe and sound
Without a single soul around

But what I discovered
Was that venturing from that place
Was the key I needed to uncover
So I had to begin at a new pace

An island in the sea
Is no longer for me
I assembled a vessel and sailed away
On the waves that I once had to wrestle
And so now I can certainly say
Onward to a much better day
As a child, I always thought it’d be great to live on a small uncharted island in the middle of nowhere. I guess it's because i’ve always been an introvert and the thought of it seemed safe. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that I enjoy other’s company quite a lot. I don’t want to be isolated. I crave connection. And sure, I’m definitely still an introvert and need lots of time alone, but I’m glad that I no longer care to live on my island.
Tammy M Darby Jan 2015
From sleeps sweet embrace
To become realities eyes
Clouded with a dark imagination
Set forth in a torturous rhyme

Insanity my love
Premeditated thoughts undisclosed
Revealed the prophecy
Attired in woe

Each long night when dreams turned to sand
The delicate soul lay bathed in tears
Doing battle protected by the amour of loyalty
Overcoming the conquests of fear

Nightmares emerged from sleeps sweet embrace
Memories became realities stark face.
Morning comes and ends the assault
A peace that is gained
At a terrible cost.


This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tammy M. Darby Jan.7,  2015
unnamed Jul 13
Cultural enclaves
Multi granular igneous rock
Heat and compression
Lava pools surrounding mineral stones
Granite
The development of will in its distinction
It is strong
It is powerful
There's nothing left of me here,
only the ghosts appear,
they've barricaded themselves
in the abandoned buildings,
I see them peeking out.

The cities voices, familiar, shout,
even as they whisper.
There's nothing left of me here
or my ears would blister,
like they used to.

It used to be: find today's food for all,
then dinner from the bins
and tonight squatting the old school.
Being homeless is a full time job,
ruled by desperation and The Law of Sod.

From the street, the city stands naked,
free of it's dazzling attire.
Underneath all the buildings,
the foundations of history,
is the same boggy mire

                                         (from which it sprang)

I wrote poems on these pavements,
some, simply, political statements, in colour,
but there's nothing left of me here,
the slabs have all faded, once again grey,
and this is all I have to say:

The city didn't notice that I've been missing,
it was lost in it's lovers arms, kissing,
a Time Immemorial embrace;
oranges & lemons
and the finest of lace,

a commercial covenant
with The Man With No Face.
The entire space was built
on the idea of exploitation.
There's nothing left of me here,

I left along the road of alienation.
A bankers brogues tread on beggars hands;
actually, this here is private land,
property of The City of London.
Well, I'm ******* gone, son.

There's nothing left of me here,
I'm done.
trying to sketch out the last years of my life in a series of poems. this one is about coming back to London, home of 24 years, and, gradually, letting go of all the pain that only leaving allowed me to do. The last lines, 'well, i'm ******* gone, son...' this is a londoners response, meant to show that, however far you go, something always remains, like the ghosts in the windows...
side note: the city of london (not part of the UK and answerable only to the queen, with a differnt voting system and tax system, giving nothing to public coffers) exists because it came from Time Immemorial. This means before written records of Britain's modern civilisation. Basically, 'we've always been here, mate, so.. we were here first.' It's a shady part of the UK not in many of the guide books. The Mayor of The City of London (not to be confused with The Mayor of London) is the only other public figure, aside from the queen, who is permitted a golden carriage for official ceremonies. ******.
Spenser Bennett Oct 2016
To love is to wait
for silence, observing earth
This vigil for death

Is all consuming
Life to love to death and back
To the space between

The lines are defined
The church bells ring as the bombs
Collide with my eyes

Holocaust now and
Again, it's a good thing, light
Destroys darkness falls

Crush me in silence
I left my shadow behind
A wingless angel

Permanently still
My impromptu modern art
May you understand

Death is no true end
Overcoming existence
To see love turn truth

There was a time
within me
I wanted to be
an actor
beaming
on stage
or a screen
big or small
no matter to me
after all
The exposure is nice
I guess
and all that kind of stuff
but that’s not what drew me to it
Just being an actor
was enough

I enjoy performing
and have a memory
for lines
One of those people
who can quote
a whole movie
It plays in my head
can fast forward
and rewind

But it’s easy to recite
the work of another
One who already
searched within
and discovered
what to emote
the affect
and such
To replay like a puppet
That’s not saying much
Could I nail
the scene
and get the feeling right?
When other actors work with me
maybe they might
get inspired
to the point
they become lost in the scene
We’re reliving
the story
A fantastic team
When the director yells
“Cut!”
all applaud and cheer
Tears in the eyes of some
touching memories
they hold near

The performance
The “art”
that’s what matters most
A singer belting out a song
or a comic
at a roast
The thought of it now
gets me giddy
and inspired
but yet
here I sit
In my chair
I am mired

Never took that step
Overcoming
all that fear
My doubts and insecurities
Worry how much others care
That fear
of failure
or that I wouldn’t
“measure up”
A deer frozen
in headlights
I am forever stuck

And as the time continues on
The days, and months and years roll by
Which is the greater loss?
If I failed
or never tried?
Written: August 8, 2018

All rights reserved.
mars Dec 2018
Waves taller than I was
cool atlantic ocean
grainy sand between my fingers
burying my toes.

Hot sunburns and salty hair
the beach bars where we used to eat off the kids meal
going back to your condo
sitting on your couch.

Thrown over his shoulders
covered in sand, the warm weight used to be fun but now it just scares me
you scare me.
My shoulders were kissed
sunscreen on my back
the lukewarm pools and marco polo races holding my breath until i thought my lungs would explode.

The water would rush back with the pull of the ocean our sundresses damp around our ankles, bruises over our mouths where you held them shut
The porch light was on to the condo my towel draped over your balcony, bathing suit bottoms in your bedroom.

Forgotten toys and to pairs of arm floaties because i was never good at swimming, you left your watch on the shoreline.
Crying because of the pain and the hatred and love
Never knowing if I would be cuddled or touched
but knowing i would be cuddled after being touched
those sunburnt spots caressed by you.
White caps peak as the sun rises, we’re cold with fevers and abuse, shaking as our feet are wet again with salty water and your watch pulled out to the sea, lost forever.
Empire Apr 22
I've been fighting so long
In this awful, ****** war
I'm deeply tired
Wounded, scarred

I want to surrender

The voices screaming
"Give up," "You can't win"
"You'll never escape this"
"You'll never escape us"

I want to surrender

But there's this force within
Keeping me breathing
Swinging my sword
When my own strength fails

I want to surrender

I am reminded by it
That I can't give up now
There are better things coming
My fight cannot end here

I want to surrender

I suppose, there must be
Courage inside of me
Because despite its allure
I have yet to give in

I want to surrender

And it is the act
Of overcoming this desire
That proves to me
I fight with valor
Inspired by Skillet’s “Never Surrender”
ejb Sep 2017
OCD
my body is covered in glass
and germs
and slivers
they're overcoming me
and destroying me
i see and feel them everywhere
they will not go away

none of it's real
part of me knows it true
but it cannot stop the pit in my chest

i am covered in glass and germs and slivers
and they're killing me
Dan Filcek Apr 2017
In the search for greater freedom of movement.
new ideas began to emerge,
rebellion against classical forms and practices
in what is now called aesthetic
disregarded the limited set of movements that were considered proper
Artistic content morphed and shifted
for young people longed to dance.
Music and rhythmic ****** movement are twin sisters of art,
portrayed in movements what the master expresses in his compositions
bare feet, loose hair, free-flowing
a form of natural movement and improvisation
Presenting dramatic contemporary imagery,  
often revealing the full spectrum of human experience
reflecting the tension and alienation of the time
the truth of human movement.
introduce chance procedures and pure movement to the cannon of dance
focused on the physical tasks of overcoming obstacles
investigate the properties of physical space and movement.
having a heightened sense of awareness of being grounded to the floor
at the same time, feeling the energy throughout the entire body,
flexibility, strength, coordination, body awareness ,
and poly-rhythmic movement; strong dramatic works
free from the limiting strictures of the big monopolistic managements
National Poetry Month 2017 - source - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Modern_dance
Umi Apr 2018
Words, conveyed by song,
A white witchery of chering emotions, sadness, may anger or grief, flowing alike a river through ones body once it's been sensed, heard,
Overcoming even time and space, giving the gentle look on your face some sweetness which I cannot describe, drawn in the landscape of my heart, a bittersweet melody unfolds, a flower blooming by night,
"Bury the earths ground in your petals, oh widely blossoming flower"
I thought whilst a breeze rushed through the leafs of nearby trees, making a pleasant noise, yet I cannot be in ease, after all I'm inhuman,
As time ticks on, the orchestra of mother nature develops in a stream of lingering sadness, with a magical touch one that embraces me instantly, locking me into a trance, of pleasure yet also great pain,
Was it my means or my purpose, was it my belief in good and evil ?
With no further hesitation, I swallowed all those meaningless questions and move my gaze up to the clouds in the heavens above,
Human or not, I remain without use for this world, what I realised is,
That I am, Nihilistic

~ Umi
Dahlia Dec 2018
a long dreary day
and a cold lonely night

sad music flowing
and salty tears falling

pen on the paper
and words coming out

closing my eyes
sleep’s overcoming
Lily Madden Sep 2018
oceans are so serene and beautiful.
oceans are so black and peril.
my ocean changes frequently, i don't have much control over the waves.
some days the waves are a sparkly blue, with warm sunshine warming it through and through.
it sways so calm and lazily.
other days not so placid.
just like that the waves turn black and freezing, and the water crashes, smothering any beauty or peace in its sight.
i on my small boat, have to ride the waves no matter what,
they are mine of course.
when the sea storm rumbles and brews i whisper to myself “don't drown don't drown”
don't drown.
i refuse to let my ship sink and go down.
why you ask?
well..
because i force myself to think of how stunning the ocean is on the good days,
and
how much my ocean can withstand on a stormy day.
even if it is easier to let the water push my body under and take me,
i will not drown.
when you are in a low place, recall what a more beautiful "ocean" looked like. everyone has dark days and peaceful days, find a balance. find the strength.
Glass Aug 2018
In the culvert the crucifixion is another
discipline,
a bureaucracy
that I no longer believe in faith or vertigo
but there will be droughts and
veneer parquet floors in deserted
homes
while the pressure of overcoming guilt
is a struggle on its own and
the fear of a parallel rupture
assorted with emotional trauma because i've already given a
closure for you to hold
onto

- G
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