"overshadowing" poems - Hello Poetry

"overshadowing" poems

Three weeks gone and the combatants gone returning over the nightmare ground we found the place again, and found the soldier sprawling in the sun. The frowning barrel of his gun overshadowing. As we came on that day, he hit my tank with one like the entry of a demon. Look. Here in the gunpit spoil the dishonoured picture of his girl who has put: Steffi. Vergissmeinnicht. in a copybook gothic script. We see him almost with content, abased, and seeming to have paid and mocked at by his own equipment that's hard and good when he's decayed. But she would weep to see today how on his skin the swart flies move; the dust upon the paper eye and the burst stomach like a cave. For here the lover and killer are mingled who had one body and one heart. And death who had the soldier singled has done the lover mortal hurt.

0

7.6k

Vergissmeinnicht

Three weeks gone and the combatants gone returning over the nightmare ground we found the place again, and found the soldier sprawling in the sun. The frowning barrel of his gun overshadowing. As we came on that day, he hit my tank with one like the entry of a demon. Look. Here in the gunpit spoil the dishonoured picture of his girl who has put: Steffi. Vergissmeinnicht. in a copybook gothic script. We see him almost with content, abased, and seeming to have paid and mocked at by his own equipment that's hard and good when he's decayed. But she would weep to see today how on his skin the swart flies move; the dust upon the paper eye and the burst stomach like a cave. For here the lover and killer are mingled who had one body and one heart. And death who had the soldier singled has done the lover mortal hurt.

Continue reading...

On winter nights beside the nursery fire We read the fairy tale, while glowing coals Builded its pictures. There before our eyes We saw the vaulted hall of traceried stone Uprear itself, the distant ceiling hung With pendent stalactites like frozen vines; And all along the walls at intervals, Curled upwards into pillars, roses climbed, And ramped and were confined, and clustered leaves Divided where there peered a laughing face. The foliage seemed to rustle in the wind, A silent murmur, carved in still, gray stone. High pointed windows pierced the southern wall Whence proud escutcheons flung prismatic fires To stain the tessellated marble floor With pools of red, and quivering green, and blue; And in the shade beyond the further door, Its sober squares of black and white were hid Beneath a restless, shuffling, wide-eyed mob Of lackeys and retainers come to view The Christening. A sudden blare of trumpets, and the throng About the entrance parted as the guests Filed singly in with rare and precious gifts. Our eager fancies noted all they brought, The glorious, unattainable delights! But always there was one unbidden guest Who cursed the child and left it bitterness. The fire falls asunder, all is changed, I am no more a child, and what I see Is not a fairy tale, but life, my life. The gifts are there, the many pleasant things: Health, wealth, long-settled friendships, with a name Which honors all who bear it, and the power Of making words obedient. This is much; But overshadowing all is still the curse, That never shall I be fulfilled by love! Along the parching highroad of the world No other soul shall bear mine company. Always shall I be teased with semblances, With cruel impostures, which I trust awhile Then dash to pieces, as a careless boy Flings a kaleidoscope, which shattering Strews all the ground about with coloured shards. So I behold my visions on the ground No longer radiant, an ignoble heap Of broken, dusty glass. And so, unlit, Even by hope or faith, my dragging steps Force me forever through the passing days.

0

3.8k

On winter nights beside the nursery fire We read the fairy tale, while glowing coals Builded its pictures. There before our eyes We saw the vaulted hall of traceried stone Uprear itself, the distant ceiling hung With pendent stalactites like frozen vines; And all along the walls at intervals, Curled upwards into pillars, roses climbed, And ramped and were confined, and clustered leaves Divided where there peered a laughing face. The foliage seemed to rustle in the wind, A silent murmur, carved in still, gray stone. High pointed windows pierced the southern wall Whence proud escutcheons flung prismatic fires To stain the tessellated marble floor With pools of red, and quivering green, and blue; And in the shade beyond the further door, Its sober squares of black and white were hid Beneath a restless, shuffling, wide-eyed mob Of lackeys and retainers come to view The Christening. A sudden blare of trumpets, and the throng About the entrance parted as the guests Filed singly in with rare and precious gifts. Our eager fancies noted all they brought, The glorious, unattainable delights! But always there was one unbidden guest Who cursed the child and left it bitterness. The fire falls asunder, all is changed, I am no more a child, and what I see Is not a fairy tale, but life, my life. The gifts are there, the many pleasant things: Health, wealth, long-settled friendships, with a name Which honors all who bear it, and the power Of making words obedient. This is much; But overshadowing all is still the curse, That never shall I be fulfilled by love! Along the parching highroad of the world No other soul shall bear mine company. Always shall I be teased with semblances, With cruel impostures, which I trust awhile Then dash to pieces, as a careless boy Flings a kaleidoscope, which shattering Strews all the ground about with coloured shards. So I behold my visions on the ground No longer radiant, an ignoble heap Of broken, dusty glass. And so, unlit, Even by hope or faith, my dragging steps Force me forever through the passing days.

Continue reading...

My mind is going weird again and hurting my head I don't know what to make of it I think I want a male me Or just me. I want another me. Doesn't necessarily have to be male. Can be female. Why not both. But I want another physical and spiritual embodiment of who I am as a person A part of me just wants to hug and hold someone. And my head is automatically choosing said person, but the feeling of the mere hug and contact is overshadowing the identity of the person by a few degrees I miss calloused hands roaming my body. And I miss body heat. I miss legs I can entangle mine with. I miss the crooks of necks. I miss snores emanating from a chest and hearing the rumble in the air from it. I miss tired faces resting and appearing destressed. I miss light groans as a body shifts positions in their sleep. I think I can pinpoint what it is that I miss. Because although all sound like physical and verbal responses, it is not the actions, although they always go hand in hand. I think I miss intimacy. But what is necessarily intimacy? There's a few definitions as soon as one googles it A close familiarity or closeness. A private, cozy atmosphere. A closeness of observation or knowledge of a subject. My chest aches and pounds as I try to put my finger on what it is I'm searching for. The more it aches, the closer I am to finding my answer Intimacy. In-tih-mah-see. In-to-me-see. See-in-to-me. Intimacy is to see in to me. It is to let and allow someone to see you for who you are, to know what makes you a being. But not necessarily in your head. Intimacy is the knowledge of how another person's mind control's their body. How the body reacts to acts that can cause the mind to blank or move forward just off-beat of the body. It's dragging your fingertips over their body and feeling the goosebumps rise as a laugh comes from the mouth over the words "popcorn butter is actually coconut oil with artificial flavoring" and feeling your eyes connect the dots between those goosebumps to their face and your brain noticing the connection between noises and nerve endings. Intimacy is a weird state to be in. Because too much can cause the mind to blank and overload itself with serotonin and dopamine. All the while there is never enough time in the world to drag on that forever feeling It's the act of getting lost in a person and discovering bits and pieces of how you affect said person. In body, in mind, in response I think I'm done because I don't know how else to frame my words. My head hurts and my chest pounds with equal force. I believe it's time for me to bid adieu and deal with this in the dreamscape

0

May 1, 2017

May 1, 2017 at 11:24 PM UTC

Intimacy - An Observation

My mind is going weird again and hurting my head I don't know what to make of it I think I want a male me Or just me. I want another me. Doesn't necessarily have to be male. Can be female. Why not both. But I want another physical and spiritual embodiment of who I am as a person A part of me just wants to hug and hold someone. And my head is automatically choosing said person, but the feeling of the mere hug and contact is overshadowing the identity of the person by a few degrees I miss calloused hands roaming my body. And I miss body heat. I miss legs I can entangle mine with. I miss the crooks of necks. I miss snores emanating from a chest and hearing the rumble in the air from it. I miss tired faces resting and appearing destressed. I miss light groans as a body shifts positions in their sleep. I think I can pinpoint what it is that I miss. Because although all sound like physical and verbal responses, it is not the actions, although they always go hand in hand. I think I miss intimacy. But what is necessarily intimacy? There's a few definitions as soon as one googles it A close familiarity or closeness. A private, cozy atmosphere. A closeness of observation or knowledge of a subject. My chest aches and pounds as I try to put my finger on what it is I'm searching for. The more it aches, the closer I am to finding my answer Intimacy. In-tih-mah-see. In-to-me-see. See-in-to-me. Intimacy is to see in to me. It is to let and allow someone to see you for who you are, to know what makes you a being. But not necessarily in your head. Intimacy is the knowledge of how another person's mind control's their body. How the body reacts to acts that can cause the mind to blank or move forward just off-beat of the body. It's dragging your fingertips over their body and feeling the goosebumps rise as a laugh comes from the mouth over the words "popcorn butter is actually coconut oil with artificial flavoring" and feeling your eyes connect the dots between those goosebumps to their face and your brain noticing the connection between noises and nerve endings. Intimacy is a weird state to be in. Because too much can cause the mind to blank and overload itself with serotonin and dopamine. All the while there is never enough time in the world to drag on that forever feeling It's the act of getting lost in a person and discovering bits and pieces of how you affect said person. In body, in mind, in response I think I'm done because I don't know how else to frame my words. My head hurts and my chest pounds with equal force. I believe it's time for me to bid adieu and deal with this in the dreamscape

Continue reading...

Two linked sugars make up a disaccharide. And that's what we are. Simple, plain table sugar, dully passed back and forth to sweeten our taste. Sometimes I'll accidentally switch the shakers for breakfast, hand you the salt, and you hand me a spice so harsh that my tongue curls at the unexpected switch. I do not prefer the boring, plain predictable exchange of taste I followed for so many years back. So I turn my back to you, hold up my hand as a shield of what you would say next. "Have you lost your taste," you say, anger overshadowing your faded love, "that I've grown plain to you?" I knew then to make the switch into freedom from the same scene replayed. I get up and turn the light switch off and leave you in the dark. "When you get back from work," I say to the plain dining room, "you will find this ring off my hand." I can barely see your eyes glowing in the only source of morning light. "That's absurd," you exclaim. "All because of how I want my cereal to taste?" I shake my head. "It's not the physical taste. It's the taste of you that makes me want to switch out of this marriage. You aren't giving me what I want, and that is my reason to back out of this. You offered your hand to hold mine, to support me, but it's all so plain." I continue, "And isn't it plain to see that my taste in relationships lack passion? I give out my hand to anything that flicks the switch of love. You give me the nudge to turn it back off." With that I exit the house and try to restore my taste the way I had it back to my actual preferences. I switch from the plain safety and run with the risk that I never had at hand.

0

Oct 22, 2015

Oct 22, 2015 at 6:31 PM UTC

Two linked sugars make up a disaccharide. And that's what we are. Simple, plain table sugar, dully passed back and forth to sweeten our taste. Sometimes I'll accidentally switch the shakers for breakfast, hand you the salt, and you hand me a spice so harsh that my tongue curls at the unexpected switch. I do not prefer the boring, plain predictable exchange of taste I followed for so many years back. So I turn my back to you, hold up my hand as a shield of what you would say next. "Have you lost your taste," you say, anger overshadowing your faded love, "that I've grown plain to you?" I knew then to make the switch into freedom from the same scene replayed. I get up and turn the light switch off and leave you in the dark. "When you get back from work," I say to the plain dining room, "you will find this ring off my hand." I can barely see your eyes glowing in the only source of morning light. "That's absurd," you exclaim. "All because of how I want my cereal to taste?" I shake my head. "It's not the physical taste. It's the taste of you that makes me want to switch out of this marriage. You aren't giving me what I want, and that is my reason to back out of this. You offered your hand to hold mine, to support me, but it's all so plain." I continue, "And isn't it plain to see that my taste in relationships lack passion? I give out my hand to anything that flicks the switch of love. You give me the nudge to turn it back off." With that I exit the house and try to restore my taste the way I had it back to my actual preferences. I switch from the plain safety and run with the risk that I never had at hand.

Continue reading...

I sat beneath a willow tree, Where water falls and calls; While fancies upon fancies solaced me, Some true, and some were false. Who set their heart upon a hope That never comes to pass, Droop in the end like fading heliotrope, The sun's wan looking-glass. Who set their will upon a whim Clung to through good and ill, Are wrecked alike whether they sink or swim, Or hit or miss their will. All things are vain that wax and wane, For which we waste our breath; Love only doth not wane and is not vain, Love only outlives death. A singing lark rose toward the sky, Circling he sang amain; He sang, a speck scarce visible sky-high, And then he sank again. A second like a sunlit spark Flashed singing up his track; But never overtook that foremost lark, And songless fluttered back. A hovering melody of birds Haunted the air above; They clearly sang contentment without words, And youth and joy and love. O silvery weeping willow tree With all leaves shivering, Have you no purpose but to shadow me Beside this rippled spring? On this first fleeting day of Spring, For Winter is gone by, And every bird on every quivering wing Floats in a sunny sky; On this first Summer-like soft day, While sunshine steeps the air, And every cloud has gat itself away, And birds sing everywhere. Have you no purpose in the world But thus to shadow me With all your tender drooping twigs unfurled, O weeping willow tree? With all your tremulous leaves outspread Betwixt me and the sun, While here I loiter on a mossy bed With half my work undone; My work undone, that should be done At once with all my might; For after the long day and lingering sun Comes the unworking night. This day is lapsing on its way, Is lapsing out of sight; And after all the chances of the day Comes the resourceless night. The weeping-willow shook its head And stretched its shadow long; The west grew crimson, the sun smouldered red, The birds forbore a song. Slow wind sighed through the willow leaves, The ripple made a moan, The world drooped murmuring like a thing that grieves; And then I felt alone. I rose to go, and felt the chill, And shivered as I went; Yet shivering wondered, and I wonder still, What more that willow meant; That silvery weeping-willow tree With all leaves shivering, Which spent one long day overshadowing me Beside a spring in Spring.

0

2.4k

Christina Rossetti

In The Willow Shade

I sat beneath a willow tree, Where water falls and calls; While fancies upon fancies solaced me, Some true, and some were false. Who set their heart upon a hope That never comes to pass, Droop in the end like fading heliotrope, The sun's wan looking-glass. Who set their will upon a whim Clung to through good and ill, Are wrecked alike whether they sink or swim, Or hit or miss their will. All things are vain that wax and wane, For which we waste our breath; Love only doth not wane and is not vain, Love only outlives death. A singing lark rose toward the sky, Circling he sang amain; He sang, a speck scarce visible sky-high, And then he sank again. A second like a sunlit spark Flashed singing up his track; But never overtook that foremost lark, And songless fluttered back. A hovering melody of birds Haunted the air above; They clearly sang contentment without words, And youth and joy and love. O silvery weeping willow tree With all leaves shivering, Have you no purpose but to shadow me Beside this rippled spring? On this first fleeting day of Spring, For Winter is gone by, And every bird on every quivering wing Floats in a sunny sky; On this first Summer-like soft day, While sunshine steeps the air, And every cloud has gat itself away, And birds sing everywhere. Have you no purpose in the world But thus to shadow me With all your tender drooping twigs unfurled, O weeping willow tree? With all your tremulous leaves outspread Betwixt me and the sun, While here I loiter on a mossy bed With half my work undone; My work undone, that should be done At once with all my might; For after the long day and lingering sun Comes the unworking night. This day is lapsing on its way, Is lapsing out of sight; And after all the chances of the day Comes the resourceless night. The weeping-willow shook its head And stretched its shadow long; The west grew crimson, the sun smouldered red, The birds forbore a song. Slow wind sighed through the willow leaves, The ripple made a moan, The world drooped murmuring like a thing that grieves; And then I felt alone. I rose to go, and felt the chill, And shivered as I went; Yet shivering wondered, and I wonder still, What more that willow meant; That silvery weeping-willow tree With all leaves shivering, Which spent one long day overshadowing me Beside a spring in Spring.

Continue reading...

Carved insanity, Etched deep in the mind, Darkness reigns. Shattered tragedy, Fragmented a thousand different ways, Pain glistens. But also, Clarified simplicity, Weaved intricately, Beauty clings. Confounding happiness, Overshadowing all else, Light illuminates.

0

Sep 7, 2014

Sep 7, 2014 at 5:53 PM UTC

Light, illuminates

Carved insanity, Etched deep in the mind, Darkness reigns. Shattered tragedy, Fragmented a thousand different ways, Pain glistens. But also, Clarified simplicity, Weaved intricately, Beauty clings. Confounding happiness, Overshadowing all else, Light illuminates.

Continue reading...

Yesterday, the sun set at midday, a lot of rivers lost their flows as confusion engulfed us in conflagration of confusion Today the sunrise has chased away the fiery sundown into the abyss What a glorious augury overshadowing the dark shadow in the labyrinth of the unknown to come. It's the power of the Power beyond!

0

Jul 27, 2023

Jul 27, 2023 at 8:59 AM UTC

kayode-steve-adaramoye-esq

THE POWER BEYOND

Yesterday, the sun set at midday, a lot of rivers lost their flows as confusion engulfed us in conflagration of confusion Today the sunrise has chased away the fiery sundown into the abyss What a glorious augury overshadowing the dark shadow in the labyrinth of the unknown to come. It's the power of the Power beyond!

Continue reading...

so close yet so far minuscule in my mind until suddenly there. looming over me and overshadowing my insignificance; coloring it dark with your smile, larger than life itself. as you move, i breathe - now, i am whole.

0

Sep 8, 2013

Sep 8, 2013 at 11:19 PM UTC

so close yet so far minuscule in my mind until suddenly there. looming over me and overshadowing my insignificance; coloring it dark with your smile, larger than life itself. as you move, i breathe - now, i am whole.

Continue reading...

Innocent child Spark denied Hardly strived a final strife Justice died Mother cried As hazard tried to save his live Innocence-spilling massacre Infant weeping Held by his dying mother Suddenly sleeping Desperately leaving This world to another A masterpiece of insanity A disgrace to humanity Manipulated politicians Manipulating ignorants Discriminating religions Yet same God is worshiped Same peaceful visions Yet all drown in hate and proudly claim to be believers Yet **** in His name like proud imbeciles for inhuman leaders Go read your holy books Absorb the essence of charity Accept we're all the same Refuse the tyranny Color your brainwashed minds with stains of compassion Break the political system Overshadowing your freedom Don't let their shams Carve your misery Unveil Insanity Unchain Humanity ~Epic Monkey

0

Aug 3, 2014

Aug 3, 2014 at 12:58 PM UTC

Insane Humanity

Innocent child Spark denied Hardly strived a final strife Justice died Mother cried As hazard tried to save his live Innocence-spilling massacre Infant weeping Held by his dying mother Suddenly sleeping Desperately leaving This world to another A masterpiece of insanity A disgrace to humanity Manipulated politicians Manipulating ignorants Discriminating religions Yet same God is worshiped Same peaceful visions Yet all drown in hate and proudly claim to be believers Yet **** in His name like proud imbeciles for inhuman leaders Go read your holy books Absorb the essence of charity Accept we're all the same Refuse the tyranny Color your brainwashed minds with stains of compassion Break the political system Overshadowing your freedom Don't let their shams Carve your misery Unveil Insanity Unchain Humanity ~Epic Monkey

Continue reading...

Get my life away from myself? No, please don't! Overprotective to me? Please don't be Sincere. I am Will get every of my work done myself Can make choices for myself Can decide for myself If I ask for a favor Make it happen, if you like to If not, Make it happen , you may not No worries for sure Overprotective to me? Please don't be Get your insecurities overrule my presence, No, please don't! Get over my life, please don't Its mine Get my life away from myself? No, please don't! Overprotective to me? Please don't be Its making me dull Its making me forget the passion Its overshadowing myself Its getting me lazy Its getting me get to not decide for myself Right to decide for myself, I have Right to decide for my truth Right to mold my own thoughts Right to become not influenced Right to choose my thought process Right to be independent The human right, inborn Independence Is what shapes life with passion No, its not ignorance Undermine my choices in life You have no right to Compare my choices to that of yourself You can, but I don't care Manipulate the choices I make It does not matter Independence I am seeking, Is not the ignorance to everything in life It's the space of hope and choice in life It is the space for my own life It is for my life itself It is for the heart of a human It is for the thrill in life that exists It is to get over with the same old **** you get me into It is to be open and radical It is to not get into trouble It is for your good and for mine Don’t be dependent on me I know you are Take responsibility of your own life A parasite, please don’t be Don't try to make me one also Be ignorant, don't be On your choices in the first place Make an effort to make a choice An independent choice of your own Choice that favors yourself Get my life away from myself? No, please don't! Overprotective to me? Please don't be Its unconscious

0

Mar 23, 2019

Mar 23, 2019 at 12:29 PM UTC

Get my life away from myself? No, please don't! Overprotective to me? Please don't be Sincere. I am Will get every of my work done myself Can make choices for myself Can decide for myself If I ask for a favor Make it happen, if you like to If not, Make it happen , you may not No worries for sure Overprotective to me? Please don't be Get your insecurities overrule my presence, No, please don't! Get over my life, please don't Its mine Get my life away from myself? No, please don't! Overprotective to me? Please don't be Its making me dull Its making me forget the passion Its overshadowing myself Its getting me lazy Its getting me get to not decide for myself Right to decide for myself, I have Right to decide for my truth Right to mold my own thoughts Right to become not influenced Right to choose my thought process Right to be independent The human right, inborn Independence Is what shapes life with passion No, its not ignorance Undermine my choices in life You have no right to Compare my choices to that of yourself You can, but I don't care Manipulate the choices I make It does not matter Independence I am seeking, Is not the ignorance to everything in life It's the space of hope and choice in life It is the space for my own life It is for my life itself It is for the heart of a human It is for the thrill in life that exists It is to get over with the same old **** you get me into It is to be open and radical It is to not get into trouble It is for your good and for mine Don’t be dependent on me I know you are Take responsibility of your own life A parasite, please don’t be Don't try to make me one also Be ignorant, don't be On your choices in the first place Make an effort to make a choice An independent choice of your own Choice that favors yourself Get my life away from myself? No, please don't! Overprotective to me? Please don't be Its unconscious

Continue reading...

Sleep paralysis The pages of book fluttered Shouldn't I be turning the pages? (I must have thought.) My hands paralysed and my eyes pierced through pages In the background someone screamed The scream was getting louder Slowly overshadowing all other noises Shouldn't I look out if someone needed help? (I must have thought) I was running so fast and not a inch did I move And suddenly someone was choking me to death I must scream for help. (I must have thought) I was screaming. I was running. I was choking. Thank you mom. right on time. phew!

0

Apr 12, 2014

Apr 12, 2014 at 10:27 PM UTC

Sleep Paralysis

Sleep paralysis The pages of book fluttered Shouldn't I be turning the pages? (I must have thought.) My hands paralysed and my eyes pierced through pages In the background someone screamed The scream was getting louder Slowly overshadowing all other noises Shouldn't I look out if someone needed help? (I must have thought) I was running so fast and not a inch did I move And suddenly someone was choking me to death I must scream for help. (I must have thought) I was screaming. I was running. I was choking. Thank you mom. right on time. phew!

Continue reading...

Mom "Don't go outside it's raining" Our great thinkers used to go out in the rain Why must I be contained during such a spectacle? What has changed? Let's see... Mom " You'll get sick" So our faucet dispenses a fluid purer than what freely falls from the clouds? What leaks through our ceiling isn't just a sign to fix our roof Maybe it's trying to drip back into our lives How do I know the rain doesn't miss me? What if the rain longs to sweep down my skin? I won't know Because "common sense" is overshadowing any piece, any connection we have to becoming a TRUE BEING alive Mom "Don't go outside its raining" Child "Okay" I miss you too rain

0

Aug 15, 2016

Aug 15, 2016 at 10:59 AM UTC

Dont go outside in the rain

Mom "Don't go outside it's raining" Our great thinkers used to go out in the rain Why must I be contained during such a spectacle? What has changed? Let's see... Mom " You'll get sick" So our faucet dispenses a fluid purer than what freely falls from the clouds? What leaks through our ceiling isn't just a sign to fix our roof Maybe it's trying to drip back into our lives How do I know the rain doesn't miss me? What if the rain longs to sweep down my skin? I won't know Because "common sense" is overshadowing any piece, any connection we have to becoming a TRUE BEING alive Mom "Don't go outside its raining" Child "Okay" I miss you too rain

Continue reading...

I need a place to release this angst, without harming a soul, without reloading this gun. If I had one. Dying the whole day bleeding, without earphones to pull, with angry pulse beating like hell Kept words keeping my cool. Enduring sick people overshadowing my pride and ego, over thinking the moment between staying and letting go. Between satisfaction and odds you did not ever imagined, Called all the demons stuck and still, doing nothing but aging. Tired of this junkyard cannons are waiting to be lit, now enter explicit thoughts biting teeth and hideous grit

0

Sep 10, 2013

Sep 10, 2013 at 8:12 AM UTC

I just gritted my teeth and continue

I need a place to release this angst, without harming a soul, without reloading this gun. If I had one. Dying the whole day bleeding, without earphones to pull, with angry pulse beating like hell Kept words keeping my cool. Enduring sick people overshadowing my pride and ego, over thinking the moment between staying and letting go. Between satisfaction and odds you did not ever imagined, Called all the demons stuck and still, doing nothing but aging. Tired of this junkyard cannons are waiting to be lit, now enter explicit thoughts biting teeth and hideous grit

Continue reading...

No one understands the pain I am in. I sit here in complete silence but the silence is deafening. My thoughts grow louder and louder, and before I know it I'm drowning in words with no way to speak.

0

Apr 18, 2017

Apr 18, 2017 at 6:06 PM UTC

hailey-mcmullen

Overshadowing thoughts

No one understands the pain I am in. I sit here in complete silence but the silence is deafening. My thoughts grow louder and louder, and before I know it I'm drowning in words with no way to speak.

Continue reading...

always giving cheer to others free flowing at times candid charisma never fails lucid things prosper overshadowing the negation unto life overflowing happiness never ceases looping looping ebullient spirits

0

Jun 6, 2014

Jun 6, 2014 at 9:04 AM UTC

roy-mark-azanza-corrales

Ebullient spirits

always giving cheer to others free flowing at times candid charisma never fails lucid things prosper overshadowing the negation unto life overflowing happiness never ceases looping looping ebullient spirits

Continue reading...

At incredible heights. There is an awesome view. I step out onto the platform. I look below and see the earth's curvature. Along with white small puffy clouds with Oceans, that look like mirrors. I take a flying leap! Into the nothingness. No sound no wind. Then suddenly! Gusts of wind hit me as if from a tornado. The silence has become a roar! I continue to fall and see That the clouds have become large and overshadowing. I continue falling through the clouds. Suddenly! I see patches of brown and green squares. I say, "My fast ride is soon coming to an end." I pull my ripcord, My parachute opens. I float slowly down to the beautiful earth. I have fallen from incredible heights to incredible lows. What a rush! ! ! Can we do that again? At Incredible Heights. © 2013 - 2014 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.

0

Dec 9, 2014

Dec 9, 2014 at 7:30 AM UTC

ronald-j-chapman

At Incredible Heights

At incredible heights. There is an awesome view. I step out onto the platform. I look below and see the earth's curvature. Along with white small puffy clouds with Oceans, that look like mirrors. I take a flying leap! Into the nothingness. No sound no wind. Then suddenly! Gusts of wind hit me as if from a tornado. The silence has become a roar! I continue to fall and see That the clouds have become large and overshadowing. I continue falling through the clouds. Suddenly! I see patches of brown and green squares. I say, "My fast ride is soon coming to an end." I pull my ripcord, My parachute opens. I float slowly down to the beautiful earth. I have fallen from incredible heights to incredible lows. What a rush! ! ! Can we do that again? At Incredible Heights. © 2013 - 2014 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.

Continue reading...

To run, to hide, to turn back These thoughts running in the back of my mind This path I took A seemingly endless road Full of jagged rocks that pierce deeply into my skin A road with darkness overshadowing each and every corner Eyes bitter and cold peering out of the darkness A road I walked with my naked feet Blistered and wounded With countless scars that covered my weak and fragile skin I stumbled I fell I wept Though each time I fell, I heard a small, still voice Small, but able Able to give me new strength Strength to run, To walk a million miles more Though each time I stumbled, I am greeted by a hand that pulls me back up A hand with great power A hand that upholds my very being Pushing me to go further Pushing me to finish till the very end Though each time I wept, A light a thousand suns bright Touches the surface of my skin Its warmth enough to take all the tears away Reminding me that in every darkness is a speck of light A speck of light enough to overcome darkness To over come grief Strength, power, hope. To Keep going For in every journey Is a destination For in every hardship Comes great triumph This path I took I still take A seemingly endless road to no where Seemingly...

0

Oct 7, 2013

Oct 7, 2013 at 7:27 AM UTC

This path I took

To run, to hide, to turn back These thoughts running in the back of my mind This path I took A seemingly endless road Full of jagged rocks that pierce deeply into my skin A road with darkness overshadowing each and every corner Eyes bitter and cold peering out of the darkness A road I walked with my naked feet Blistered and wounded With countless scars that covered my weak and fragile skin I stumbled I fell I wept Though each time I fell, I heard a small, still voice Small, but able Able to give me new strength Strength to run, To walk a million miles more Though each time I stumbled, I am greeted by a hand that pulls me back up A hand with great power A hand that upholds my very being Pushing me to go further Pushing me to finish till the very end Though each time I wept, A light a thousand suns bright Touches the surface of my skin Its warmth enough to take all the tears away Reminding me that in every darkness is a speck of light A speck of light enough to overcome darkness To over come grief Strength, power, hope. To Keep going For in every journey Is a destination For in every hardship Comes great triumph This path I took I still take A seemingly endless road to no where Seemingly...

Continue reading...

A list of my problems Sung like an anthem Your the least to my miseries Like the fine black berries or red cherries Succulent and mouth watering The tales to my secret survivor Your kind and good behavior Outnumbered your hypocrisy By all my strengths still would stretch All you wanted was to fetch, and leave me for clutches Those crocodile tears are the least, least to my problems It’s too late for the reconciliation Just like you left a ‘fool ‘for humiliation I was the least to your excuses and my downfalls, Overshadowing the good deeds, take heed You're the least to my rise and anxieties, the least to my problems

0

Jul 12, 2017

Jul 12, 2017 at 9:57 AM UTC

A list of my problems Sung like an anthem Your the least to my miseries Like the fine black berries or red cherries Succulent and mouth watering The tales to my secret survivor Your kind and good behavior Outnumbered your hypocrisy By all my strengths still would stretch All you wanted was to fetch, and leave me for clutches Those crocodile tears are the least, least to my problems It’s too late for the reconciliation Just like you left a ‘fool ‘for humiliation I was the least to your excuses and my downfalls, Overshadowing the good deeds, take heed You're the least to my rise and anxieties, the least to my problems

Continue reading...

I feel like a sick lady waiting for well wishes from my sisses and mates. I’ve been a giver and a settler and in three weeks, I found myself hanging in between. And now here I am, in my sickbed crying for attention— living in this pocket-sized, time-filler, slick box for most of my days just prying on everybody else’s lives to check how incomparable it is to live a life less like mine. Everyday at five, the sun sets, overshadowing the blue sky with soft transitions of reds and oranges. And just right before I knew it days, weeks have already gone by. I found myself with nothing but dull empathy and collective misery. I re-spiraled down to the mantle of my being until it hit me— attention is cheap, but intention is gold. And I have wasted so much time, so much time, chasing the idea of perfect romance from the most impossible people. It made me worry, too, on how bad I have been in making decisions just to curtly satisfy my longing for any human who can provide even the slightest damp on my cold skin. I’m not trying to compose a self-help quotable narrative nor shit-shit essay about self-love. I have stripped off the idea of 1-2-3s, of healthy coping mechanisms, of capturing perfect moments from the most mediocre, mundane fragments of life during my trying times. These past few encounters have been merely playdates and guessing games where I’ve lost sight of innocence and sincerity, making it hard for me to differentiate temporariness with permanence. And knowing kindness with or without an agenda is like a cloud in my head. Therefore, throughout these years, the flowers I planted have slowly wilted under the shade of infinite uncertainties. I have lost the love I was willing to give, and I can’t help but think that romance is not for me. I’m tired of giving and losing; I have given up moving mountains and breaking walls just to find myself being stabbed for being too much. From this day on, I am going to be me, with me. A bloke. A woman—alone in a swarm of parasites and flock of birds. A strong, pragmatic, detached woman in this horrifying epic journey of self-salvation. —Advent 3:27am

0

Feb 8, 2019

Feb 8, 2019 at 1:05 PM UTC

I feel like a sick lady waiting for well wishes from my sisses and mates. I’ve been a giver and a settler and in three weeks, I found myself hanging in between. And now here I am, in my sickbed crying for attention— living in this pocket-sized, time-filler, slick box for most of my days just prying on everybody else’s lives to check how incomparable it is to live a life less like mine. Everyday at five, the sun sets, overshadowing the blue sky with soft transitions of reds and oranges. And just right before I knew it days, weeks have already gone by. I found myself with nothing but dull empathy and collective misery. I re-spiraled down to the mantle of my being until it hit me— attention is cheap, but intention is gold. And I have wasted so much time, so much time, chasing the idea of perfect romance from the most impossible people. It made me worry, too, on how bad I have been in making decisions just to curtly satisfy my longing for any human who can provide even the slightest damp on my cold skin. I’m not trying to compose a self-help quotable narrative nor shit-shit essay about self-love. I have stripped off the idea of 1-2-3s, of healthy coping mechanisms, of capturing perfect moments from the most mediocre, mundane fragments of life during my trying times. These past few encounters have been merely playdates and guessing games where I’ve lost sight of innocence and sincerity, making it hard for me to differentiate temporariness with permanence. And knowing kindness with or without an agenda is like a cloud in my head. Therefore, throughout these years, the flowers I planted have slowly wilted under the shade of infinite uncertainties. I have lost the love I was willing to give, and I can’t help but think that romance is not for me. I’m tired of giving and losing; I have given up moving mountains and breaking walls just to find myself being stabbed for being too much. From this day on, I am going to be me, with me. A bloke. A woman—alone in a swarm of parasites and flock of birds. A strong, pragmatic, detached woman in this horrifying epic journey of self-salvation. —Advent 3:27am

Continue reading...

Heaven knows of the wishes you make in the dark. In fact, the light is a bit jealous. Glimpses of tiny paradoxes, Peaking through pin like openings. Ones the naked eye may mistake for mirages. The darkness is so vast, it is almost as if you are visually impaired and... Better days unimaginable. Every twinge or hope promises solar flares, But instead, it presents sparks, Quickly extinguished by, Ominous woes and epic eruptions in the balance. It is absence, Humming, Surfing on the air, So you only manage to overhear scraps of, The only means of your redemption But cannot actually grab onto to it. How are you making it through the day, When you hate every bit of it? Shadows laugh at your despair but I beg you, Stop feeding the darkness because it will only grow thicker. Heaven knows the wishes you make in the dark, But it begs you to stop searching.. Stop searching for the light. You will never find it in front of you. Because it is inside of you. But you are too preoccupied in your own misfortunes To see just how equipped you are to handle the silence. Because you have refused to listen to anything but sorrow. Too blind to see that your own heart, Radiates like a lantern. To worried to see that you don't need fire, You are the flame. Darkness is carved like caverns to make you lose your mind. Don't rob yourself the opportunity to be freed of night. Force yourself to see beauty and Beauty will cling to you, Overshadowing all else, And light will illuminate. no matter what you do..... Know that, Sunrise is only a breath away. Breathe will you? Let it fill every nook, Let it occupy every space of every cranny.. Let enlighten you.. Let it lift you up. Let it set you free. Let it keep you calm. Let it motivate you to smile. Smile your troubles away, ..... Will you? Because it will be the most beautiful ... You are beautiful.

0

Sep 14, 2014

Sep 14, 2014 at 2:56 PM UTC

Heaven knows of the wishes you make in the dark. In fact, the light is a bit jealous. Glimpses of tiny paradoxes, Peaking through pin like openings. Ones the naked eye may mistake for mirages. The darkness is so vast, it is almost as if you are visually impaired and... Better days unimaginable. Every twinge or hope promises solar flares, But instead, it presents sparks, Quickly extinguished by, Ominous woes and epic eruptions in the balance. It is absence, Humming, Surfing on the air, So you only manage to overhear scraps of, The only means of your redemption But cannot actually grab onto to it. How are you making it through the day, When you hate every bit of it? Shadows laugh at your despair but I beg you, Stop feeding the darkness because it will only grow thicker. Heaven knows the wishes you make in the dark, But it begs you to stop searching.. Stop searching for the light. You will never find it in front of you. Because it is inside of you. But you are too preoccupied in your own misfortunes To see just how equipped you are to handle the silence. Because you have refused to listen to anything but sorrow. Too blind to see that your own heart, Radiates like a lantern. To worried to see that you don't need fire, You are the flame. Darkness is carved like caverns to make you lose your mind. Don't rob yourself the opportunity to be freed of night. Force yourself to see beauty and Beauty will cling to you, Overshadowing all else, And light will illuminate. no matter what you do..... Know that, Sunrise is only a breath away. Breathe will you? Let it fill every nook, Let it occupy every space of every cranny.. Let enlighten you.. Let it lift you up. Let it set you free. Let it keep you calm. Let it motivate you to smile. Smile your troubles away, ..... Will you? Because it will be the most beautiful ... You are beautiful.

Continue reading...

Floating around a magic land Our world, idealised and fantastical Unrealistic reality Of which we are fanatical ly- Craving the glow that warms our greeds That electronic heart pulse That life that can be sliced apart Rearranged and made false The smiles overshadowing empty eyes The hands on the hips make slim The figure of this silhouette And the figure that lurks within Pixels of a true smile evaporated from this world Verify? Verifying... Delete.

0

Oct 5, 2013

Oct 5, 2013 at 5:13 PM UTC

Floating around a magic land Our world, idealised and fantastical Unrealistic reality Of which we are fanatical ly- Craving the glow that warms our greeds That electronic heart pulse That life that can be sliced apart Rearranged and made false The smiles overshadowing empty eyes The hands on the hips make slim The figure of this silhouette And the figure that lurks within Pixels of a true smile evaporated from this world Verify? Verifying... Delete.

Continue reading...