"payed" poems
The false crisendo of your words
Grate against my every nerves.
Wandering round
With ****** feet
How many expectations
Have I failed to meet?
What more do you want
Of my sorry soul
When I cannot bring
My self to breath anymore?
So I watch your hopes
all tumbling down
It feels quite cold
Down here in the ground.
I'm sorry that I wasn't enough
I tried to be what you asked of me
But I didnt think it'd be So tough.
My weary bones creak and ache,
My wrist all burned and ******
Can you not be quite just once for my sake?
I understand the gravity.
I know Im failing at life,
But you dig right in,
spreading the cavity,
How to ignore the strife?
Whispered arguments bleed through the walls
How much longer until we fall?
Through the floor straight down to hell
All because I could not tell.
Should I weep in pain,
And slave away,
To satisfy you're whimsical ways?
Should I sell my soul,
And bite my tongue,
Just to keep the wallet full?
But "your so young,
You've no excuse,
So bend your back,
Put those hands to use."
Welcome to life.
Put away your pain,
No time for strife,
No time for play,
Just nod you head,
Exit the stage,
And get a job,
So you'll be payed.
I'd sooner live a poor church mouse,
Then lose myself in persute of a house.
But no, I'll smile my candy grin,
And talk with sugar sweet.
Hide the weight of the pain,
So your expectations, I'll meet.
Feb 3, 2018
Feb 3, 2018 at 11:39 PM UTC
I do not have a ****** heart..
It's been ****** with,
And torn apart..
My heart is a **********
Getting payed with love-filled lies.
My ****** body isn't yet caught up.
I gave all that was inside of me,
Trying to protect what I was born with,
My cleanliness, my virginity,
My purity..
My ****** body is white, pure, clean.
But my heart is black, broken, dead..
Waiting to be revived.
So please, revive my heart..
But don't take my body..
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 12:05 PM UTC
Everything is fine
Until you pop into mind.
In a casual thought
Or a dream so vivid
I can almost touch you
Why?
When he has done so much to help me heal from you
But you are still here to taunt me in my mind
You were the thing I wanted, but could never have in the end
In my dreams, he taught me many things
He let me laugh
He never disregarded my heart
Or payed more attention to himself
He let me do things you never would have accepted with ease.
But still, we always go back to those who cage us in
As much as we realize it is not for the best
We still subconsciously want it
Because we get used to our cage
It is home
Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 9:16 AM UTC
Broke
Unable to finalize any purchase
Checking
For change in the last places that one searches
Insufficient
To the point I'm unable to ward off the throes of destitution
Bankrupted
By devaluing those who have not made restitution
Insolvent
To the point of having to fight off the urge to curse
Disallowed by the prose that places value and give credit....to verse
Denied
Any credit accrued....maybe even unearned
Reevaluation
With no accounting for the time you
SPENT
Learning what you have learned
Depreciation or Appreciation
Cannot be quantified by the lack of someone.saying thanks
Interest will eventually be of value
Once accrued... but for now I must accept
That I'm simply overdrawn at my memory banks
Investment in my own value
Will allow me growth
In my own ...
......personal
Checking account
Helping me in balancing the books
Keeping me payed up and happy
BY
Always giving others their true valuation
So that ego doesnt become a currency
That is subject to... such a devastating inflation
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 4:24 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
To achieve your ambition
Stop hoping and wishing
Voting is a mission
It’s like going fishing
No fish will you find
If you don’t cast your line
So drop your remote
And go out and vote
Your candidate
Might not win the debate
But let me clearly state
If you don’t participate
Then you abdicate
By not voting your choice
You lose your voice
And can never rejoice
Democracy demands
Having all hands
Both critics and fans
Despite their brands
Being involved
To get their problems solved
Things tend to revolve
So we’ll be absolved
Voting is a right
We could lose over night
Unless we unite
Stop being uptight
And stay engage in the fight
For which people died
Payed in blood or their hide
To not be denied
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2018. All rights reserved.
Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 7:41 AM UTC
She wanted to fly away
She felt she was not free
He always had his way
He took his mistress to the sea
She felt the urge to leave
She never had the guts
He never had some time
He was a very violent man
She accepted all of his flaws
He thought he had no flaws
She never left the house
He would not let her anyway
He said he loved her before ***
She thought she loved him too
She knew of all his ways
He payed for hookers anyway
She knew nothing was ok
He always had his way
Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 6:49 PM UTC
Dew Diligence
to reap the rewards of a world of magic
and appreciation of earning
the clouds of doubt and pain
must be experienced
the piper must be payed
the fear of life reconciled
with the acceptance of death
leaving no stone unturned
no path untraveled
the mind set free in observation
the binds loosened in anticipation
maintaining your resilience
the tears must fall
your dew diligence
Gomer LePoet..
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 1:27 PM UTC
I can't wait 'til
Nightfalls
Tonight
I will
Construct nightmares
So insane
Phantoms couldn't fathom
Fantasies make foul turns
Fascination fails
You'll frail frantically
Your chain of the thoughts
Become a train
Derailed
From Loco motives
Your emotions
Are now
Monstrous motifs
Built moments
Before happiness
You'll stare
In terror eyes
Scared as cats
You scratch
Along the wood floor
Forced
Through dark corridors
The doors
Horror tore off the hinges
You're inches away
From no longer living
As soon
As you've given
Yourself away
I take
And make worse!
Death dances
At arms lengths
I've never seen someone
so anxious
To reach
Too anguished to speak
How shall I satisfy?
This shallow heart
Is empty
But simply filled the rows
Of this cathedral
With people
Who payed
To see the price
You've payed
I guess,
Hell sales
This thriller will terrify
Eye's should stay confined
When I
Comply to my conscience
Can science comfort you
It claims this isn't real
Well
It really helped me
Make you feel
Comfortable enough
To sleep
Deeply
Anesthesia
Will be the
Reason for your sweet retreat
As soon as your
Sound asleep
I'll compile vile thoughts
And send you on a journey
With intent
Of you never returning
A one-way trip
From float, freight or flight
As long as it brings
Fright
By mars at night
Where nightmares
Are the day
And you're fearful of it's sight
Nov 1, 2010
Nov 1, 2010 at 11:37 PM UTC
*When most of what I see
I just don't understand
With back against the wall
Leaving little left
When the voices in the air
Tell me that I can't
Reminding me of the things
In this life I've said
When all four walls
Are closing in on me
Having a devil of a time
As he won't let me be
When all in front of me
Looks like impossibility
That is when I feel the need
To get down on my knees
When I think about
All that God has done
Thanking him for sending
His one and only Son
When I want to give back
A portion of his love
When He forgives out right
For my many wrongs
When I think about the fact
I have been set free
When I look upon the Cross
And what it means to me
As I am thankful for the call
And that I payed it heed
That is when I feel the need
To get down on my knees
When I gaze out at the world
And the shape it's in
Looking at it deeply
Into the sinful heart of man
When the flame of torment and sorrow
Is being continually fanned
As I see it setting fire
To a once great sovereign land
When I know the answer
But I need the strength
To shout it from the mountain tops
To the valleys deep
When looking for the answers
That keep eluding me
That is when I feel the need
To get down on my knees*
Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 7:56 AM UTC
"Shh," she hushes me.
I watch her close her mouth, then her eyes. But her very soul, she exposed to everyone, to me, in the auditorium. The music begins, and I literally see the intro of the song sink into her skin. I notice her shiver; not that i didn't want to put my arm around her to warm her up because it wasn't the temperature of the room. It was the music. She was feeling it. She is it. Her breathing to the piano's notes, her heart beat rhythmic to the dancing fingers on the keys: I can see it all. Her shoulders rising and falling--
"Oh," she softly speaks, pulling me out of my melodic reverie. "Did i just-- A tear, how silly of me to cry."
But before she could wipe her cheek, I took her hand in mine and kissed the tear away. She had this confused look, but it soon melted as I neared her.
She was not only music, she was a symphony. And every fiber of me was in tune with her, and there wasn't anything else in the room which I payed attention to.
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 11:41 AM UTC
"Who profits more?
The cup that fulfills its purpose?
Or the drinker?"
The students didn't answer.
The bell had rung.
They wouldn't get any participation credit.
It wouldn't affect their grade.
The professor didn't care either.
He was just filling the time.
If they thought about it or not,
He would still get payed.
He fulfilled his purpose.
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 6:07 PM UTC
like electricity entering the body
heat from the vent, money well spent
being payed up on rent
like winning a trip to Disney land
or laying on the beach in the sand
laundry right out the dryer
setting a candle on fire
calling out a liar
your favourite song on at the right moment
being ready for in the morning
hangovers after a good party
having someone to lean on
is almost like all of the above ,
like the silver blade giving you a hug.
that feeling you get when you cut
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 11:41 PM UTC
As in cargo ships.
Fear takes pictures below.
My heart inside stone ballasts.
Saving letters.
I burn it down.
I burn it down & walk away.
Correct.
Ate, now sick.
Years ago fruit grew.
My wound grows skin with wine.
& she burns.
Price payed for pale beauty.
Still alive.
My torch home.
I search for my children
Frozen in winter's grace.
Jan 9, 2013
Jan 9, 2013 at 8:04 PM UTC
I wish
You realized how inconsiderate
your everyday actions
affect the people you supposedly care about.
I wish
you payed attention, and realized I still care.
Because deep down
we both know you are hurting me.
I wish
you ******* cared because
I know how tempting it is.
I could be turning around and
do the exact same thing
that you are doing to me.
And trust me,
*I want to. badly.*
But the difference between you and I
is that I know it would **** you.
And I actually care,
even if you don't give a flying ****
about me.
I wish you were the friend I wanted you to be.
Apr 8, 2012
Apr 8, 2012 at 6:49 PM UTC
i.
Elated, I'm afar from the aqua sphere beneath mine toe's,
I've been taken up by flight, an angel in the night;
A woman, a queen, a mystical paranormal beam,
God heard mine weeping, and with her he sent,
She dried mine Tear's clean.
ii.
I sniveled for eon's, with none hopeful lover's future
Mine joint's were weak, from the lack of nutritional feature's;
At mine lowest point, after imploring mine lord for help,
He sent me mine other half, Earl Jane Nagley, an Asiatic path,
Mine beloved, mine darling, mine seraphic helper.
iii.
I found wholeness, the other purpose to mine sustenance,
She's not for sale, she's not a slave, she's a cherub; not some anecdotal tale. She's not one to taketh man's bribery, she's not a peasant sold and payed for rent: tis she's heavensent- the answer to mine prayer's, she's delicate, she's an empress doth thou seeith, I was birthed for her, as she for me, both made for another, to cherish each other, on cloud nine we shalt be seen.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedication-Filipino rose
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 2:35 PM UTC
A smudge
appears in the corner
of the eye,
of the view,
of sight.
Wipe away
the tear-less dripping drop.
Amethyst coated
fingers nervously working
to achieve perfection,
hoping that no one payed attention
to the flaw,
the flaw that is one among many,
the flawed that is one among many.
Maybe her make-up is smudged,
maybe she sees herself as one.
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 10:29 AM UTC
he wraps you in the seams of his quilted fleece jacket
only for you to tumble towards teetering ground with a
myriad of other dissipated items
a dollar bill
a cough drop wrapper
and breakfast bar crumbs.
his face backlit, the stained windows of the church
in which you have learned
that the weight of the world cracked adam's ribs
and made woman
the product of his suffering
but, eve
repeat:
you are not made from the vestige of this man nor the absence of him
you do not owe this to him
you do not owe him the gnawing on your fingernails
you do not owe him your skin, he buries himself under
creates a crater in your chest and uses your heart as his cave
you say he payed for dinner (the one that you couldn't eat: your stomach pulled inside out from worry)
that he
doesn't love you
or worse
you don't love him
speak not softly nor fading
do not let him lick tears off your face
and tell you they taste like sugar:
rip that piece of paper that he wrote his
number on
slipped his hand in your pocket at the club
for
he does not deserve you.
Oct 15, 2017
Oct 15, 2017 at 2:40 AM UTC
Clockwork child with neon eyes
you've seen so many things
the death of man and fallen skies
and winter born of spring
Your clockwork mind predicted all
but man was far too dumb
to heed your words upon the wall
and so you just kept sthum
Your clockwork heart broke like a Child
as nature payed the price
and now the dead are neatly piled
beneath a world of ice
May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 9:03 AM UTC
Grandpa Ody retired, content
Worked at GM all his life
The entire family drives Opel
20% discount with a form
Provided by Ody
Now my stepdad married my mum
Making me his daughter
Through their union
We drive an Opel too
Many sets of Opel keys on the dinner table
It may serve us to know
That we recognize our keys
By one glance, one main indicator
For most of us; the Opel car key
Who knows the difference after a few drinks
And so I switched our keys
With those of my stepdad
He glanced at them a few times
Something was wrong
"Nah it must be in my head"
We've payed for our drinks
Thanked everyone
Three kisses in Belgium
Our cars are parked across each other
Click says the lock of our car
Quickly we unlock the other car....
We say goodbye...
"Who took my keys?!"
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 6:42 PM UTC
They're gonna try to use my lyrics against me in trial
To prove I've been running for ah thousand miles
Many styles but the flow ********
Ten years gone ah prisoner of war
To live like that with the weight on my back
Ain't no ******* joke homie staying on track
Ese panick attacks to all my rivals
When the news hit the neck about my arrivals
It's called survival for the strong stay alive
You ain't gotta be like me I ain't trying to misguide
Just provide ah course eye view
Of what it's really like for ah chosen few
That's what I do I put your life in this
Ah street gang corrido is ah underground hit
From the face event you might hear the violence
But if you didn't keep you'll find peace in silence
Step in the booth I payed all my dues
If you check new tourist it's like two million views
The reviews say I infuse
That lowrider crews L.A County blues
Some win some lose
In their grave they snooze
While the DJ cut it up on the ones and twos
That's cool that's what the criminal say
So I'ma keep riding homeboy no delay
Big C Rock Mac 11 spray
Got the people in the zone ******* no bang
Put your hands up now put them down
Only the selected could cancel the crown
The rest of you clowns get faced down
Las puertas del Infierno ese that's my sound
Notorious Enemy that's how I get down
Ain't giving up nada catching no rebound
So album after album that I keep on dropping
Letting everybody know there ain't no stopping
This my coffin so bury me in it
Intellectual metaphor bout the music business
Mental fitness along with lyrical sickness
Loyal getting ready cross examine ah witness
Bout to fix this
Situation at hand
Cause my presence on ah stage ese high demand
Here I am
C Rocka the legend
Ink oozing out my pen is carving ah message
Say I'm destined to lead ah battalions
Sentenario change wing that's my home in Dalan
Not Italian but you get it kapish
I'ma sit up in the cut till it's time to release
My dominion's of angels and demons
To the scene where it's needed
Cause my people's is fiending
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 8:07 PM UTC
Talk is cheap but it's not a cheap addiction
payed for every word i spoke with every wound inflicted
withdrawal symptoms: high level of emotional stress, depression, anger and bouts of uncontrollable rage, more depression, bitterness, resentment, trust issues even with the trustworthy, aversion to physical affection despite the craving for it, loneliness, contradictory thoughts and feelings, paradoxes of actions and intentions, silence, and poetry.
I guess my options are to avoid or entertain my addiction
"hello, how have you been, if I'm talking will you listen?"
Feb 16, 2012
Feb 16, 2012 at 3:19 PM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
Breaking rules in suspicion,
Didn't know you,
••••••••••••••••••
| recognized |
••••••••••••••••••
I payed attention,
Asking questions,
I adore you,
••••••••••••••••••
| Loved. |
••••••••••••••••••
Calling your name,
When I fall for you,
••••••••••••••••••
| Affection. |
••••••••••••••••••
In order for this evening to maintain,
Is if you let me love you.
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 1:03 PM UTC
The ruins of my sorrows wash up on the shore of my thoughts.
I look at the wreckage as I board the the dock of sailed dreams and bright stars-
The stars that lead the way.
I survived.
I reach down to inspect the damage, trying to pick up the broken pieces.
I look at the heart in my hand and remember how it once was beautiful.
Like the sounds of the heavens battling the emotions of the lands-
A sound that could send chills down the legs of the rocking chair,
And silence the creeks for once and for all.
The sounds that I’ve always taken solace in.
Because God is in the rain- and rain makes things grow.
Just hoping one day he’ll rain on me.
I dust off the broken heart, put it on my sleeve, and carry on.
I need to carry on.
I repeat this in the depths of my mind hoping to ignite the courage
Of the lost souls of Beowulf and Odysseus- Praying that Jesus will come through.
They always said that you become the stories you listen to.
So I try to paint my thoughts with memories of heroism-
In hopes of one day I might save myself.
The broken mirror on the wall shows more than my reflection.
The light gleaming through the cracks are refracted just enough
to show me the universe withheld in my eyes.
But without my heart, it all seems so distant, so far, if only I could reach in and grab it.
The smooth surface sends chills down my fingertips and heartbreak down my soul.
I close my eyes and bow my head. I kiss my finger and send the message to God.
Such a humbling experience to see all that you have destroyed because of your own folly.
If only I had payed more attention. If only I had gotten in God's good graces- If only.
If only I had died.
If only the pain I felt was proof of immortality could I find comfort fates company.
If only the voice so many have claimed to hear had whispered me to my dreams.
I can fix this.
My dad was a fixer. Only he left too soon to show me how.
But I’m sure I can find pieces of him when I clean up this mess.
And I’m sure I’ll also find the worst pieces of myself.
I guess I'll try my luck.
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 4:08 PM UTC
I say we bill em, thousands
or maybe even more
dumb ***** and dumb *****
abiding on the shores
Warned and even prodded
time to leave my friend
yes, it's a hurricane
and it may be
your end
Don't stay here and wonder
the winds and all the waves
the water it is rising
no idiocy, is brave
So when the rescue workers
hold out their proffered hand
be sure to write the check
to be payed upon
demand
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 6:54 PM UTC
Got lost and stopped by the grotto
struck deals with villains,
and though I'm in my feelings
kneeling and ****** off
I payed to be ripped off
cadences dip, lost the lotto
Watery graves appealing strange
the solution is lame
the parade's an insane path to follow
Radical urchin burden
grifting the current
mechanisms infected
luring fevers to wallow in, ad absurdum
fathom futility in survival
famine imbibes a stifled echo of revival
in my head
I'm just playing dead for my recital
better informed to the abhorrence I'm entitled
feathered in form alluring sword alarm from Michael
clever to wars imparted forcible and vital, to the era
but staring in awe before the cycle
Bearing a maw beneath the throes along the final.
Bury me after my heart
and guard informal notions of the lauded
if calluses lift the filthy and applaud it
whittle the simply to the too intense or lawless
for a history glistening through a rose of sickly fondness
I won't ask if you were listening to all this
but I must admit
I don't think I can trust you
to be honest...
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 1:25 AM UTC