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"overstepped" poems
i desire for you, so badly, to fit into the fabric of my life. to let me into your deepest fears. to laugh with me when i need to be reminded that life is full of joy as much as sorrow. even now, i wish you were sitting with me in this house by the sea. but the truth is that you’re not. you’re two thousand, three hundred miles away. even further is your heart from mine. because the truth is that i tore you from the fabric of my heart. and i’m sorry. i know that no apology could ever bring you back. but i want you to know i am. i’m sorry i overstepped your boundaries. i’m sorry i broke your heart. you knew it was best for you to leave. whether that is good for me, i still don’t know. but i want you to know that i want the best for you, and if the best thing for you is to not know me anymore, i accept that. i hope this distance is helping you heal. what i do know is that right now, i am sitting in this house by the sea. watching the waves break over rocks. crashing into each other, too. my wave broke against your rock and retreated back into the ocean. and in the period when our waves superimposed, you reminded me that it’s okay to take a chance on love. that when i push people away with my vicious, vicious words, everyone gets hurt. including me. and maybe some people are not meant to love me forever. maybe some loves are just meant to pass by. but it doesn’t make them any less important.
0
Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 2:19 AM UTC
excerpt
#*Dripping wet December gets It frets The rains have overstepped It’s not July No not September It’s been long August has slept Winters just checked into December Changing the air to mode, cold But the rains have overstepped Cold and wet December gets Last it is, but never the least Brings in joy and festivities Within a day or maybe two The rains will vanish in thin air Pleasant weather and sunshine December makes promises fair*#
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Dec 2, 2021
Dec 2, 2021 at 6:35 AM UTC
December moments
Gaia sighed. Not a sigh like lovers sigh looking deeply into each other's eyes. This was a sigh of resignation. In all her long life, there had never been a time she felt as unheeded as now. Yes, there had been a time once, a time of oneness when all her multitudinous inhabitants had coexisted, when species knew their place in the chain of life and cycled through their existence, not always at peace but with respect for one another: the lion hunted the swift gazelle which in turn fed on the fruits of the trees, parasitic birds and insects grazed upon her and they in turn were the prey of others. ‘Yes,’ Gaia thought, ‘there was a time.’ She sighed again. She remembered when humans first came to prominence in the twilight of her existence. To them, she was the Great Mother, the Creator of life. Was it not she who bore all her inhabitants and was it not to her that they all returned to continue the cycle? Gaia felt old now, old and forgotten. That respect, that devotion was all gone now. She felt the hurt as the careful balance she had sought to maintain was eroded, not by wind and elements, but by the ravages of humans. ‘They have overstepped their bounds,’ she mused. ‘They must be taught a lesson.’ She pondered on that thought for a moment and for a moment felt a surge of effervescent warmth flow through her form. But grim reality broke through her musings and she shuddered at the horror of the reality. Her memories were dim and misty now. She could remember her birth but only just. How she had taken form from the cosmic flotsam and jetsam all those countless aeons ago. She remembered the youthful exuberance she exhibited then and she smiled in embarrassed recollection. No life could have survived upon her surface then for she was wild and wilful, hot and inhospitable, prone to savage outpourings. But she grew, she gained the experience of time passing, and slowly, slowly, her voluble exterior became calm and gradually her form was blanketed in a kindly cloak of life-sustaining gases. The soup of her oceans spawned and multiplied a myriad of lives and forms and she thought of how many she had seen come and go. The present again broke through her meditation of what has gone before. Now she was approaching the nighttime of her existence and, like the old elephant, one of her favourite inhabitants, she knew her time was near. She had tried so hard to adapt, to compromise but, like a cancer, the human scourge had spread beyond all control. Oh yes, there had been a few voices raised in concern and some, she knew, spoke with all the sincerity she knew the species was capable of. But, those voices went unheeded, listened to by a few but ignored by the many. Gaia was tired. She hurt. Sol bore down on her savagely, relentlessly and she felt her protective shroud growing weaker and weaker as every moment passed. It was now, the time had come... © David Simons 2001 (revised 2016)
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Jul 28, 2016
Jul 28, 2016 at 3:01 AM UTC
Gaia’s Last – a cautionary tale
Gaia sighed. Not a sigh like lovers sigh looking deeply into each other's eyes. This was a sigh of resignation. In all her long life, there had never been a time she felt as unheeded as now. Yes, there had been a time once, a time of oneness when all her multitudinous inhabitants had coexisted, when species knew their place in the chain of life and cycled through their existence, not always at peace but with respect for one another: the lion hunted the swift gazelle which in turn fed on the fruits of the trees, parasitic birds and insects grazed upon her and they in turn were the prey of others. ‘Yes,’ Gaia thought, ‘there was a time.’ She sighed again. She remembered when humans first came to prominence in the twilight of her existence. To them, she was the Great Mother, the Creator of life. Was it not she who bore all her inhabitants and was it not to her that they all returned to continue the cycle? Gaia felt old now, old and forgotten. That respect, that devotion was all gone now. She felt the hurt as the careful balance she had sought to maintain was eroded, not by wind and elements, but by the ravages of humans. ‘They have overstepped their bounds,’ she mused. ‘They must be taught a lesson.’ She pondered on that thought for a moment and for a moment felt a surge of effervescent warmth flow through her form. But grim reality broke through her musings and she shuddered at the horror of the reality. Her memories were dim and misty now. She could remember her birth but only just. How she had taken form from the cosmic flotsam and jetsam all those countless aeons ago. She remembered the youthful exuberance she exhibited then and she smiled in embarrassed recollection. No life could have survived upon her surface then for she was wild and wilful, hot and inhospitable, prone to savage outpourings. But she grew, she gained the experience of time passing, and slowly, slowly, her voluble exterior became calm and gradually her form was blanketed in a kindly cloak of life-sustaining gases. The soup of her oceans spawned and multiplied a myriad of lives and forms and she thought of how many she had seen come and go. The present again broke through her meditation of what has gone before. Now she was approaching the nighttime of her existence and, like the old elephant, one of her favourite inhabitants, she knew her time was near. She had tried so hard to adapt, to compromise but, like a cancer, the human scourge had spread beyond all control. Oh yes, there had been a few voices raised in concern and some, she knew, spoke with all the sincerity she knew the species was capable of. But, those voices went unheeded, listened to by a few but ignored by the many. Gaia was tired. She hurt. Sol bore down on her savagely, relentlessly and she felt her protective shroud growing weaker and weaker as every moment passed. It was now, the time had come... © David Simons 2001 (revised 2016)
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8
Through the darkness in my head My obsession has once again risen. While in the throes of madness unleashed, The evil within, unbridled, free rein was given. What havoc was wrought and damage was done, When society’s norms and politeness were no more. Friendship long cultivated and relished by me In my darkness, was damaged to the core. Things were said, I know not what. Things not remembered, in the darkness in my mind. Only a message received from one held so dear. “You overstepped the line, Friend, our ties no longer bind.” Gone now, forever, someone once so dear, While in the darkness, the madness, hidden in my mind. I’ve since asked forgiveness, but the damage was great. When caught in obsession, in madness, I was unkind.
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Aug 11, 2010
Aug 11, 2010 at 9:16 AM UTC
Obsession
Mirror mirror on the wall Tunnel vision on the flaws In the scale of things it’s unimportant So no talking but it’s still an intrusive thought Tried hard to correct it But nothing was effective No-one else seemed so obsessed with it, things were desperate Until the voice crept in I can help you, trust me, you’re ready It seemed dangerous But it said to have faith in it The secret is to just be empty Didn’t know if it was wise to listen But what could it hurt to try? P1: And at first it was working But then things were emerging Cracked lips and Tired eyes I’m hungry with no appetite I’m shivering and shaking, and I tell myself it’s fine, but You can’t fool your body, you can only fool your mind, yuh Empty I just need to be empty Hide from anybody who’ll prevent me Just fill up on water and shame No, I’m not hungry, I just ate I’ve developed a taste for this Endure the neverending ache Convince myself I’m in control and it’s not All that voice that makes me sick C: Inside it’s empty Ana- I know it’s wrong I’m looking but I can’t see myself Inside it’s empty Ana- I know it’s wrong But it’s so hard to stop it alone V2: Been getting even worse All the days begin to merge Just a blurry haze and now it’s Almost second nature to ignore the urges Can’t trust my own nature Every calorie a failure Gotta push the intake down every day ‘Cause the voice comes back to say You want to eat? Bite your tongue Don’t want to stay an embarrassment just have to stomach it They don't know what you want A tug of war against common sense don’t wanna believe that I’ve overstepped P2: But it’s so overwhelming And I hope no-one can tell ‘Cause the numbers keep decreasing This ordeal is becoming routine, check Arms back neck thighs **** it in and Pinch my sides The scales are betraying me, the mirror is a lie, yeah Numbers It all comes down to numbers I know it’s wrong but Just because you know you’re colorblind doesn’t mean you can see the colors Fine, I admit I’m addicted But the hunger feels good, how do I quit this I know I could die, I’ve seen the statistics But the voice is with me through thick and thin Bridge: I can reach out To someone not like me If you ask for help it doesn’t make you weak I can reach out ignore what the voice tells me I can help my mind learn to trust my body *Credit to JaidenAnimations & Boyinaband
0
Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 1:56 PM UTC
Empty
Mirror mirror on the wall Tunnel vision on the flaws In the scale of things it’s unimportant So no talking but it’s still an intrusive thought Tried hard to correct it But nothing was effective No-one else seemed so obsessed with it, things were desperate Until the voice crept in I can help you, trust me, you’re ready It seemed dangerous But it said to have faith in it The secret is to just be empty Didn’t know if it was wise to listen But what could it hurt to try? P1: And at first it was working But then things were emerging Cracked lips and Tired eyes I’m hungry with no appetite I’m shivering and shaking, and I tell myself it’s fine, but You can’t fool your body, you can only fool your mind, yuh Empty I just need to be empty Hide from anybody who’ll prevent me Just fill up on water and shame No, I’m not hungry, I just ate I’ve developed a taste for this Endure the neverending ache Convince myself I’m in control and it’s not All that voice that makes me sick C: Inside it’s empty Ana- I know it’s wrong I’m looking but I can’t see myself Inside it’s empty Ana- I know it’s wrong But it’s so hard to stop it alone V2: Been getting even worse All the days begin to merge Just a blurry haze and now it’s Almost second nature to ignore the urges Can’t trust my own nature Every calorie a failure Gotta push the intake down every day ‘Cause the voice comes back to say You want to eat? Bite your tongue Don’t want to stay an embarrassment just have to stomach it They don't know what you want A tug of war against common sense don’t wanna believe that I’ve overstepped P2: But it’s so overwhelming And I hope no-one can tell ‘Cause the numbers keep decreasing This ordeal is becoming routine, check Arms back neck thighs **** it in and Pinch my sides The scales are betraying me, the mirror is a lie, yeah Numbers It all comes down to numbers I know it’s wrong but Just because you know you’re colorblind doesn’t mean you can see the colors Fine, I admit I’m addicted But the hunger feels good, how do I quit this I know I could die, I’ve seen the statistics But the voice is with me through thick and thin Bridge: I can reach out To someone not like me If you ask for help it doesn’t make you weak I can reach out ignore what the voice tells me I can help my mind learn to trust my body *Credit to JaidenAnimations & Boyinaband
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76
Prelude: From Fullness swathing, wake left in wake of...truly, there is no passing but an Emptying of Fullness. ...Needless to say, ecstatically vibrating...you have all the blessings silence can muster. Could, I would...imbed this sky in memory, self-proclaim its radiant blankness upon it. That I may be what I see, already in memory of me, though I've come to know and love...that any personal touch, is yet an impersonal one. Bless that which was drawn in, and drawn out...lay the heart entire upon it. We are the Knowers of things that stand, and tilt by degree momently...we are the Knowers of the last leg, lest it overstep that which it's overstepped by. Fit for us, as every other--momentously, equally fit...the call to life is what silence took as her deepest secret. Nothing could wrest this burden from her hands, for she loves it as her self... therefore restores what she holds forever. ~Om Namah Shivaya~
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Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 10:28 AM UTC
Knowers
All the Wrong All the Right the moments of Dread Out shined by the Delight The sun Erupting out of my heart a feeling so right So effortless So true The only problems stemmed from within you. I own up to my own mistakes my own choices the road to my fate I think of the rights and the wrongs the boundaries that were overstepped, ignored, and spit on I can understand how the distance, the lack of Intimacy, could drive someone to fulfill their own needs. But what is unacceptable to me was the dishonesty. We were open from the start or so i assumed. The talks of what we wanted, what we were willing to go through. It was all in line, so all we would have to deal with was the time. I couldn't force you open, i didn't want to at first. but being 500 miles away, combined with the hurt. I realize I overstepped my own boundaries. By disrespecting yourself, i blindly followed your lead. I have learned from it I have the knowledge to succeed. You have been my greatest teacher I now take my own lead.
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Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 6:37 PM UTC
All the wrong
it is a gift, the friend ship, the kiss on each cheek with out avoidance. it may seem continental, yet we are dolgellau. it is a meeting place, yes, near the church. there are similarities, yet this is not a metaphor. we met at ten, talked of family, one hour led to two, and overstepped the parking time. later in the garden, i thought of you. i cut the paths and thought of you too. it is a gift. sbm.
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Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 2:04 AM UTC
. it is a gift .
There was a boundary, a clear line, a stop sign I overstepped the mark saw the curve of your smile and wanted to taste it I watched you, the way your lips drew on your cigarette the way they move when you speak and suddenly I was there leaping the wall between us breaking barriers that should remain. I threw caution to the wind and with a stinging slap you threw me in the trash.
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Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 2:45 AM UTC
boundaries
A car arrives in the drive and stops outside the front door all the servants are there and George's parents wait there all importantly watching the car door the chauffeur gets out and opens the back door and George back from the hospital for shell shock gets out and puts a hand over his forehead to block out sunlight then looks around the grounds around the house his mother steps forward and takes his hand welcome home George she says George stares at her he nods but doesn't smile he looks into the faces of all those standing there by the front door as if amongst strangers his father moves forward and gently takes his son's arm George moves forward uncertainly his feet unsteady his hands shaking slightly his eyes move over the servants wide and staring then he stops and points to Polly Polly he says softly almost a mumble she gazes at him uncertain what to do the mother looks at Polly come help Polly Master George recognizes you and indicates with her other hand that she should come   so Polly walks to George's side and says nothing but smiles at him and he smiles back we'll go to his room the father says a footman takes the bags and follows George and his parents and Polly inside the house and up the wide staircase the other servants including the butler Dudman move away from the door and go about their tasks Dudman goes in and stares at the party walking upstairs slowly and sighs Polly has overstepped the line as far as he is concerned he'll have to watch her he muses watching the party disappear from the stairs and gives the absent Polly one of his cold stares.
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Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 2:12 AM UTC
DUDMAN'S COLD STARE 1916.
A car arrives in the drive and stops outside the front door all the servants are there and George's parents wait there all importantly watching the car door the chauffeur gets out and opens the back door and George back from the hospital for shell shock gets out and puts a hand over his forehead to block out sunlight then looks around the grounds around the house his mother steps forward and takes his hand welcome home George she says George stares at her he nods but doesn't smile he looks into the faces of all those standing there by the front door as if amongst strangers his father moves forward and gently takes his son's arm George moves forward uncertainly his feet unsteady his hands shaking slightly his eyes move over the servants wide and staring then he stops and points to Polly Polly he says softly almost a mumble she gazes at him uncertain what to do the mother looks at Polly come help Polly Master George recognizes you and indicates with her other hand that she should come   so Polly walks to George's side and says nothing but smiles at him and he smiles back we'll go to his room the father says a footman takes the bags and follows George and his parents and Polly inside the house and up the wide staircase the other servants including the butler Dudman move away from the door and go about their tasks Dudman goes in and stares at the party walking upstairs slowly and sighs Polly has overstepped the line as far as he is concerned he'll have to watch her he muses watching the party disappear from the stairs and gives the absent Polly one of his cold stares.
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74
Yes. I admit I was trying to impress.. ..when I said to the girl, "whatya wearing under your dress" The boys from the hood thought that was good But it wasn't so cool It showed me up for a fool The tool of the time hanging out on the frontline with the guys going nowhere,uncaring,not sharing and the day washing away slipping like soap from my hands. The sands trickled down and made me look at lifes timer. I started to frown. Then I got off my rear put myself into gear and got back into the drag..lit a *** and started humming to the Strumming banjo playing solo on the radio. And there..outside Mothercare I saw her again. She was stood in the rain..looking round,looking fat and I like a pantherised cat leapt to her side,offered her a ride...She replied, "Oh it's you..what do you want and how do you do" We talked small talk...gave the car a miss and walked long talk. I apologised,never realised the good and the bad. I said, "who is the Dad" There was a silence to the footsteps where I'd overstepped a boundary but she understood me and said so quietly, "she didn't know" We walked real slow. The tears and our laughter caught up with us some time after and now we are three. I can see this is the way time always meant it to be. Me. Always me but now it's one..two..three. Happily. Ever after.
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Jun 21, 2012
Jun 21, 2012 at 6:56 AM UTC
Double six
It hurts me to remember how she and her laughter made you smile. I wince even now, watching you in my head, replaying the moment you used your eyes to speak with her in a way I thought reserved for me. Friendship has boundaries: boundaries once overstepped are hard to renew. I crossed the river and tried to cross back for both our sakes. I maintain success. I must. For us. But thinking how she came so close, how if she’d chosen you instead, how if she’d danced you to the end, laughing all the way, My constantly crossing rivers heart cringes.
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May 24, 2012
May 24, 2012 at 12:37 PM UTC
Narrow Escape(ing)
Why do you always do this? Pull out last minute Say your heart wasn't in it How do we get through this? When you won't walk beside me When your eyes can´t find me Tell me what to do because it's out of control You go from a hurricane to nothing at all If I overstepped then please let me know And I´ll leave If you want me to go Why do you always make jokes? When I´m bearing my soul Like it's your limelight I stole Why do you see fire when there´s no smoke? Will you help me put it out? Or will you keep running out? Tell me what to do because I'm losing my mind You tell me that you love me, but regret it each time If I crossed the line, then please let me know And I´ll leave If you want me to go
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Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 3:50 PM UTC
If you want me to go
Sometimes stargazing settles the mind; other times it's called destruction of intellectual property. Boundaries lightly treaded over are still overstepped, and left alone once again I am, missing you. And life, O life just passes me by, as I nurse a dark mixture of boredom and solitude alone in my room, working out new pathways to my own demise. Hope stopped living here a long time ago. Happiness missed the boat by a smidgen and it's been off course ever since. The directives are the same: "Go forth into the Arctic of your own heart and melt it with the fires of passion". Instead I burned the temperate forests lying just eastward, toward foreign waters I have never seen. And now here I sit, boat strategically positioned between my failed objective and the destruction I've wrought, and I ask: "Do I continue and complete my objective? Or do I go home, acknowledging my losses?" Torrid affairs of state are not my cup of icy, frothy tea, if you catch my continental drift. Your tender kiss beseeched upon me a plush stranglehold of mixed forgiveness and alarm, almost like you immediately regretted saying sorry for marooning me with a gun, a bullet, and a dream. Unfortunately that gun got me a crab, which got me stones, which gave me the tools to build a liferaft back to home waters. And yet again you sit on my vessel, offering me recompense or a boat, a gun, and a bullet. O, how I miss the days of toy ships and plastic sailors.
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Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 6:26 AM UTC
marooned?
I've seen his sponsored post on Facebook, and doesn't he look fine but he's not fooling me because he's overstepped the line. The mark of shame is on you David for you the sun won't shine,yes I saw your sponsored post on Facebook,I'm surprised you had the time. You lot are a dying breed,sitting high upon the hog while others snuffle in the dirt and are in desperate need,the word I use is swine though I must admit the little **** most certainly looks fine.
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Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 4:03 AM UTC
Unfriends
Mark the passage of the Lorelei, Darkness about her all along, Fate-spun deeds till the day she dies, And her ode committed to song. Her train draped over the boat’s side, A trail atop the river floating, Her kindly suitors would not abide, Overstepped, stooped low in their doting. Her shifting garment in mesmer hue, Warps and woofs with onlookers' fancy, They all believed but none saw true, Save one, chancing prophecy. For the Lorelei is death bestride, A loom to veil the space between, Her trailing garments as a chord styled, That only the dead, alive have seen. In the coming she a dread light, In the going a pale shade lingers, She is present in both alike, Her fruits like twilit fingers. Should one be so bold, To chance her on a stair, Best they cling before they fold, Into the tresses of her hair. And drift away to lands unseen, Adrift from terra fair, Spirited to a waking dream, Borne up to the Lorelei’s lair. Worry not of what you're told, Of what terror of night can bring, You like swaddling babe will hold, And into the darkness sing. For the leaguer of her bower, While treacherous and cold, Is the boundary of the hours, Of all that might unfold. Apart and yet more aware, You may espy the raging sea, And losing yourself will stare, At that action which may be. The lady’s crossing span, Reaches above and below, Allowing those who can, Traverse her tresses’ tow. And clamour about the heavens, And rend the wailing deeps, Scour the land of dead-ends, Break the bodied heaps. From her seated hall, She sees the mighty and the frail, Aware is she of all, The deeds that come to fail. That in their ashes die, That in their waxing wane, Whose movers fall and lie, In their shame profane. Too many deeds to her eye, Are snuffed in the crib, Motionless she will cry, Our Lady Lorelei, And dream that you will rise.
0
Aug 12, 2025
Aug 12, 2025 at 10:32 AM UTC
The Lorelei
Mark the passage of the Lorelei, Darkness about her all along, Fate-spun deeds till the day she dies, And her ode committed to song. Her train draped over the boat’s side, A trail atop the river floating, Her kindly suitors would not abide, Overstepped, stooped low in their doting. Her shifting garment in mesmer hue, Warps and woofs with onlookers' fancy, They all believed but none saw true, Save one, chancing prophecy. For the Lorelei is death bestride, A loom to veil the space between, Her trailing garments as a chord styled, That only the dead, alive have seen. In the coming she a dread light, In the going a pale shade lingers, She is present in both alike, Her fruits like twilit fingers. Should one be so bold, To chance her on a stair, Best they cling before they fold, Into the tresses of her hair. And drift away to lands unseen, Adrift from terra fair, Spirited to a waking dream, Borne up to the Lorelei’s lair. Worry not of what you're told, Of what terror of night can bring, You like swaddling babe will hold, And into the darkness sing. For the leaguer of her bower, While treacherous and cold, Is the boundary of the hours, Of all that might unfold. Apart and yet more aware, You may espy the raging sea, And losing yourself will stare, At that action which may be. The lady’s crossing span, Reaches above and below, Allowing those who can, Traverse her tresses’ tow. And clamour about the heavens, And rend the wailing deeps, Scour the land of dead-ends, Break the bodied heaps. From her seated hall, She sees the mighty and the frail, Aware is she of all, The deeds that come to fail. That in their ashes die, That in their waxing wane, Whose movers fall and lie, In their shame profane. Too many deeds to her eye, Are snuffed in the crib, Motionless she will cry, Our Lady Lorelei, And dream that you will rise.
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61
What gives someone the right to cause another pain. To shout hateful things at me and her. Because she left you. And because she chose me. I understand the pain, but you've gone too far. Its for her sake I'm not tracking down your home now. Because she has learned to calm my rage. I was once in your shoes only a few months ago. And I'll be the first to admit I may have overstepped then. But never to this level, I never insulted her or her honor. No matter how upset I got. But you intend to go even further. You want me to pay. I say bring it on ***** My demons want to play.
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Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 12:08 AM UTC
Boiling.
i used to lie awake at night thinking about all the things i did wrong that day about whether tomorrow would be the day you decided i had finally overstepped the invisible line in our first summer together we rode the bus for two hours your socked feet propped up on the dashboard on the second floor the sun was blinding that day my fingers were sticky from the chocolate biscuits that were slowly melting in the warmth you turned to me and said "sorry for being such a ***** earlier" i looked at the chocolate running down my fingertips my throat was dry "it's ok" i said "it was my fault anyway" an old friend called me one day i hadn't talked to her in months "we should hang out more" she said "i miss you" her voice sounded tinny over the phone line like something from another century i stared at the instant messaging window in front of me you were still typing had been for a while "i'm sorry" i said "i'm busy right now" "oh" she said the soft sound of an incoming message sounded just a little bit like a gunshot "you know i'm just jealous because i love you right?" you said one evening your voice was hoarse from screaming "yes" i said "i know" on new year's eve we went out together your hand curled firmly around my wrist when it was almost midnight you leaned over in your seat your breath smelled like alcohol "we're going to be together forever aren't we?" you said "promise me we will" your face was hazy around the edges around us people were starting to chant counting down the seconds "yes" i said "i promise" i spent the first fifteen minutes of the new year throwing up in a ***** bathroom my knees were hurting from the cold stone tiles you were waiting for me at our table "i drank too much" i said my fingers traced lines on the bottle of my untouched beer i still think about it sometimes about all the things i could have done to save you about how i still failed you in the end you stole two years of my life and i turned it into a poem how's that for **** you
0
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 6:04 PM UTC
4th april
i used to lie awake at night thinking about all the things i did wrong that day about whether tomorrow would be the day you decided i had finally overstepped the invisible line in our first summer together we rode the bus for two hours your socked feet propped up on the dashboard on the second floor the sun was blinding that day my fingers were sticky from the chocolate biscuits that were slowly melting in the warmth you turned to me and said "sorry for being such a ***** earlier" i looked at the chocolate running down my fingertips my throat was dry "it's ok" i said "it was my fault anyway" an old friend called me one day i hadn't talked to her in months "we should hang out more" she said "i miss you" her voice sounded tinny over the phone line like something from another century i stared at the instant messaging window in front of me you were still typing had been for a while "i'm sorry" i said "i'm busy right now" "oh" she said the soft sound of an incoming message sounded just a little bit like a gunshot "you know i'm just jealous because i love you right?" you said one evening your voice was hoarse from screaming "yes" i said "i know" on new year's eve we went out together your hand curled firmly around my wrist when it was almost midnight you leaned over in your seat your breath smelled like alcohol "we're going to be together forever aren't we?" you said "promise me we will" your face was hazy around the edges around us people were starting to chant counting down the seconds "yes" i said "i promise" i spent the first fifteen minutes of the new year throwing up in a ***** bathroom my knees were hurting from the cold stone tiles you were waiting for me at our table "i drank too much" i said my fingers traced lines on the bottle of my untouched beer i still think about it sometimes about all the things i could have done to save you about how i still failed you in the end you stole two years of my life and i turned it into a poem how's that for **** you
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62
I'm standing in the queue, swede in hand a trolley filled with representations of the person I hope to become fresh, safe, healthy, organic the sound of fruit and vegetables screaming for my attention drowns out the sound of you wondering out load how it came to this the food on my table became something much bigger than it was ever intended to be there's no such thing as an innocent steak and peas you casually opened my fridge door for a cursory glance an uninvited familiarity my inner private world until now known only to myself and the girl on the checkout at the grocery store when I invited you to dinner you looked at me as if I had asked you to father my children but we had been dancing around in concentric circles of admiration formalities slipping away over drinks for weeks could inviting you to cross my threshold have overstepped yours? I have offered you a seat at my table and a place in my heart not your last supper a sacred feast symbolizing the beginning of something more a time when I know what you like to eat for breakfast and how you have your coffee when you share your pleasure in your meal with me on the same fork across the table when tastes and aromas inhabit our landscape forming our story around the intimacy of food
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May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 7:03 PM UTC
The intimacy of food
We’ve traded pearls for pigs We’ve chosen to stand afar in fear of beauty Behold we stand in ugly Facing walls that have bars and caged we are within We traded freedom for liberty We celebrate and pride humanity at the loss of its glory We indulge in excess and luxury and yet our souls have never been more deprived The beauty of right is ridiculed and exchanged at the expense of tolerance and rights The quality of our class is ****** we are low-low classless We cant even stick to the rules that govern our own kind We are debased; we tolerate the whips of our taskmasters Like slaves, our mentality is deranged from indoctrination’s cup we drank and we are well drunk What buffoonery, we ***** and bawl after which we crawl back like dogs we eat the same We lost the North point, we are confused, yet claim to know We are lost yet we claim to be found and know who we are We are running a race before even the ‘go gun’ fires We’ve overstepped our bounds and think we are within the limits and rights We are trespassing and we think we have visitation rights We do not have custody rights yet we hold the possession We want the glory but are not gutsy enough to stand and fight We choose our preachers and they tell us what we want to hear We are preaching to ourselves without scripture We listen to our own voices and call it ‘God’ How far from him we walk while claiming to be living at his feet Our voices are louder from empty shallow passion that claim wisdom We are bullying truth, we bruised it over and over again till it went to report us We would rather lie to ourselves that face the truth, we cant stand how ugly it reminds us we are We request sick leave and never go for our doctor’s appointment We plunge into deeper and deeper cave of darkness, we may find out there is no light at the end of the tunnel We hug and kiss darkness
0
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 10:38 AM UTC
Bad Battered
We’ve traded pearls for pigs We’ve chosen to stand afar in fear of beauty Behold we stand in ugly Facing walls that have bars and caged we are within We traded freedom for liberty We celebrate and pride humanity at the loss of its glory We indulge in excess and luxury and yet our souls have never been more deprived The beauty of right is ridiculed and exchanged at the expense of tolerance and rights The quality of our class is ****** we are low-low classless We cant even stick to the rules that govern our own kind We are debased; we tolerate the whips of our taskmasters Like slaves, our mentality is deranged from indoctrination’s cup we drank and we are well drunk What buffoonery, we ***** and bawl after which we crawl back like dogs we eat the same We lost the North point, we are confused, yet claim to know We are lost yet we claim to be found and know who we are We are running a race before even the ‘go gun’ fires We’ve overstepped our bounds and think we are within the limits and rights We are trespassing and we think we have visitation rights We do not have custody rights yet we hold the possession We want the glory but are not gutsy enough to stand and fight We choose our preachers and they tell us what we want to hear We are preaching to ourselves without scripture We listen to our own voices and call it ‘God’ How far from him we walk while claiming to be living at his feet Our voices are louder from empty shallow passion that claim wisdom We are bullying truth, we bruised it over and over again till it went to report us We would rather lie to ourselves that face the truth, we cant stand how ugly it reminds us we are We request sick leave and never go for our doctor’s appointment We plunge into deeper and deeper cave of darkness, we may find out there is no light at the end of the tunnel We hug and kiss darkness
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30
When he was born, his eyes were blue. Blue, like the sky and the ocean, Free and limitless and unadulterated. It was almost as if, should you look hard enough, You could see into his soul. Pure and untainted. As he grew, his eyes became brighter, Reflective of the yearning inside of him, A symbol of his youth, his childish joy and wonder. As if that sky had surpassed its boundaries and flooded into the heavens, As if that ocean had overstepped its limits and doused the horizon. He grew and grew, and as his body grew so did his heart: He lived not for himself, but for others. Those eyes, which opened directly into his sole, were wide with that childish awe, Open to the sorrows of the world, The sorrows which others blacked out from view. A blink of those blue eyes and there he was, on a hospital bed. Surrounded by people he once knew, People he would likely forget. They would come and go, wish him well, Ask if he remembered the times when he did this, the times when he didn't do that, the times where he should have done something else. And they left as night fell, When the nurses came and put him to bed, Alone, as he had once been, but now afraid, uncertain. And he cried, for the first time, tears of baby blue, Neon streaks upon his cheaks, illuminated by the moonlight. And by the time he closed his eyes, those vibrant blue eyes, They were gray.
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Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 10:48 AM UTC
Baby Blue
methods fettered, advantages and breaks extended, insults and numinous presences of pagans crept craven idolatry ascribable degrees of rivalry kept intensified, superordinate to unsatisfiable desires and anorectic shakes stigmatised, wishes leading to perpetual astonishment, quakes caused, centuries for a variety of relations acknowledged accept altered limits, bounds of appropriation are overstepped and eliminated, forms of every truth from different takes are completed, esoteric states, totally upheld a verdict of ****** reasonable risks, general history framed and shared, shares of fully repeated trades are allocated, limitedly missed usurious beginnings unparalleled in cruel relations with transient rules proclaimed with theoretical ideas, properties of a black jade
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Oct 3, 2020
Oct 3, 2020 at 4:28 AM UTC
methods fettered, advantages and breaks
No, I don't know What love is At all. I am wondering And my soul Is about to fall What is love Why is love And why are we all? Are these simply questions of a depressed mind? Maybe. But also of one that is trying to find Reasons To live and to feel and to love. Again. More And more honestly than ever. Searching is my current state. It's rather stuck, but does vibrate Uncomfortably under my ribs Where the deepest of feelings should be Instead I am mostly inhibiting my head But I want to learn to change that My body needs more of my attention I need to connect To reconnect I guess. I noticed there is a big gap Between my soul, my head, my body.. It is as if I am existing in parts. Maybe it's true cause energy is divided Maybe. I don't really know much My focus recently has been very shallow I guess I lost other people's touch The human connections with fellows They matter. Society matters. This is where love meets me But rarely. I did experience hate though In groups. No body came to save me But that's over, isn't it? Or do I still have to learn to trust? Am I still so influenced by it? That I'd rather deny myself Than to accept That someone might not like Sth about me instead. Why is it so bad? How to get rid of this weird energy. How to find a way to be finally free. I am not even begging for materialistic freedom. I just want to be able to decide How my life is gonna be Where I am gonna be And in each and every moment What is actually right for me? I know I overstepped some boundaries And I will overstep even more There are boundaries I overstep unwillingly And there's others that I knowingly ignore.
0
Jun 11, 2020
Jun 11, 2020 at 5:45 PM UTC
Internal anxiety of a clueless mind
No, I don't know What love is At all. I am wondering And my soul Is about to fall What is love Why is love And why are we all? Are these simply questions of a depressed mind? Maybe. But also of one that is trying to find Reasons To live and to feel and to love. Again. More And more honestly than ever. Searching is my current state. It's rather stuck, but does vibrate Uncomfortably under my ribs Where the deepest of feelings should be Instead I am mostly inhibiting my head But I want to learn to change that My body needs more of my attention I need to connect To reconnect I guess. I noticed there is a big gap Between my soul, my head, my body.. It is as if I am existing in parts. Maybe it's true cause energy is divided Maybe. I don't really know much My focus recently has been very shallow I guess I lost other people's touch The human connections with fellows They matter. Society matters. This is where love meets me But rarely. I did experience hate though In groups. No body came to save me But that's over, isn't it? Or do I still have to learn to trust? Am I still so influenced by it? That I'd rather deny myself Than to accept That someone might not like Sth about me instead. Why is it so bad? How to get rid of this weird energy. How to find a way to be finally free. I am not even begging for materialistic freedom. I just want to be able to decide How my life is gonna be Where I am gonna be And in each and every moment What is actually right for me? I know I overstepped some boundaries And I will overstep even more There are boundaries I overstep unwillingly And there's others that I knowingly ignore.
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61
And so it began. The end. We all knew it would come. We just didn’t know when. We didn’t know how. We didn’t know where. We didn’t know who. But we all knew why. If you overstep boundaries There are repercussions. If you overstep again, Three times, four times, Five, six, seven times, There’s more. And we had overstepped One too many times. And so One by one We all Started To Disappear. Until we discovered The End of The End.
0
Nov 20, 2017
Nov 20, 2017 at 11:12 PM UTC
Beginning of the End