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"permenant" poems
The river winds in from distant lands With mercyless power it turns stone to sand Through its mysterious life, the very earth it commands And Yet the fearful river still runs through our hands. In torrents of furry where the deepest currents flow The rivers wild waters surge with woe. For Onward, forever, its destined to go A permenant home it won't ever know. The river runs from each of us As a refugee of fear, It knows in a blink it will be somewhere else Its waves are really its tears. It runs from the audacity   Of the selfish human mind As Its massive life capacity, Of flora and fauna combined, Are threatened by our antics and helpless to our crime So the river runs on their behalf, from everyone, in time- even within its whitecap foam Water's yearning for a home So roam does the water- endlessly, till its long gone out of sight The essential droplets of the river- Nomads day and night.
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Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 11:55 AM UTC
From What the River Runs
The rusted belt is tight in our hometown city. Black smoke masks the lights In one gaseous setting; the permenant fitting Of our hometown city Trees exchange steel In our hometown city. You’ve never seen the wheels churn and the deals burnt In the factories that take pity On the nitty-gritty of our Own hometown city. The last laughs with us In our hometown city We don’t’ ride the Cali bus, But yea, I'd say we are witty, cause al'the prettiest girls Live in our hometown city. The river’s been burnt In our hometown city. Yea we’ve learned a lot From our own ad(e)missions; And now, clinics fill prescriptions in ourown hometown city In my own hometown city We’re slicker than you, Even though our York’s isn’t new… Why? Watch my city revive in Front of your eyes- then ask me; Why is this your hometown city?
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Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 3:04 AM UTC
The Underestimation of Cleveland
We are thinkers They are dreamers We are quiet They are loud We see hard times They look past them What we see isnt permenant What they see will outlast them While we are thinking They are doing while we are listening in They are speaking out We talk in a whisper They always shout We try to look on the brightside Yet we go blind They stare a the sun and seem to be fine We think we know all They admit they know nothing Weve done nothing at all But these fools were good for something We saw ourselves as smarter But come to realize these fools truly grasp what matters in life
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Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 10:25 PM UTC
A Subtle Defeat
welcome to houston texas we roll swangas n swishers we might hit cha with the torch if ya dont know where ya stand in the ghetto we never let go of painful memories we got brothers get shot by cops to brothers getting got by they own i try not to led a path of sin on my own phone home soon to be at the crossroads knockin at thugs mansion door got **** how did i get smoked i thought i was backed by my locs now im sittin with malcolm and martin n garvey enjoying a smoke wish i could reach deep into the pains of black folks brain and let em know we used to be kings n queens but **** dont flipped once they change the color of the script but ***** i peep game since i was embryo last of a dying breed corrupt seed we can changr indeed we just gotta change waht our minds feed but we too intrigue from the worlds scent a ghetto ih now that've got your intention lets form a syndication reform strategize black nation we all brothers from haitan to jamacian makin nothing but flawless beats smokin swisher sweets at the swap meet or better yet the bayou classic listenin to magic 1 0 2 point one everybody having fun without the use of a gun buts ther3s always one that wanna start **** got his wig split now take a picture for yo casket wish times wasnt so hard but im always on the guard sneaky *** white supremacy pushin gay antics miss with that semantic yall aint slick so let me hit ya with some of the realist rhymes that make up for the crimes cuz im tired of this ****** poor livin everyday sinning no winning stuck at a permenant loss but somehow my soul still grows even though the world be a ghetto the ghetto
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Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 9:45 PM UTC
The World is a Ghetto
welcome to houston texas we roll swangas n swishers we might hit cha with the torch if ya dont know where ya stand in the ghetto we never let go of painful memories we got brothers get shot by cops to brothers getting got by they own i try not to led a path of sin on my own phone home soon to be at the crossroads knockin at thugs mansion door got **** how did i get smoked i thought i was backed by my locs now im sittin with malcolm and martin n garvey enjoying a smoke wish i could reach deep into the pains of black folks brain and let em know we used to be kings n queens but **** dont flipped once they change the color of the script but ***** i peep game since i was embryo last of a dying breed corrupt seed we can changr indeed we just gotta change waht our minds feed but we too intrigue from the worlds scent a ghetto ih now that've got your intention lets form a syndication reform strategize black nation we all brothers from haitan to jamacian makin nothing but flawless beats smokin swisher sweets at the swap meet or better yet the bayou classic listenin to magic 1 0 2 point one everybody having fun without the use of a gun buts ther3s always one that wanna start **** got his wig split now take a picture for yo casket wish times wasnt so hard but im always on the guard sneaky *** white supremacy pushin gay antics miss with that semantic yall aint slick so let me hit ya with some of the realist rhymes that make up for the crimes cuz im tired of this ****** poor livin everyday sinning no winning stuck at a permenant loss but somehow my soul still grows even though the world be a ghetto the ghetto
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58
5am wakes a blinding bright orange sun Standing out against the pale grey sky. Below, a cityscape of grey. No cars and few people move this early. Portland, like most of us, is having a foggy morning. Two bodies fade to color on a rooftop. Their crusty eyes Crack to vibrant orange light, Half expecting search helicopters Or seagulls pecking at their limbs. Praying, for ravens. They only find each other. A beach towel beneath them Half a bottle of ***** beside them Next to their backpack and undergarmets. It almost resembles a prayer circle. Kicked blanket at their feet, Brazier overhead, Belt and trinkets to the side. Lord knows what they were summoning last night. They sure as hell can't remember. They only remember touch and smell, Light lavender hips, Big Bourbon chest, Fingers tracing artwork in the dark Admiring both Memories and their permenance. Unfortunately, This wasn't permenant. After they climb down it's He to a hospital. She to a husband and child. The orange sun coo'd too early. Just two hours of freedom Before the goodbyes and consequences. A short glimpse of another world. Hoping for closure. One step forward. Three steps back. When their bodies left the rooftop. They held hands.
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Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 2:02 PM UTC
Foggy Morning
I had to learn eventually Someone else makes you smile Someone else occupies your mind Someone else holds you up I have to realize what we had was literally nothing Compared to her now I hope that smile is permenant till your last days here Wrinkly, old, wise and jubilant Warm in your bed Nothing but best wishes truly -from the girl you called your wonderwall to maybe your unicorn to now no one Au revoir
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Aug 11, 2019
Aug 11, 2019 at 8:34 AM UTC
Au revoir
I've been branded new painted blue fallen through because of you Tears that drown permenant frown sobbing sound I"m a letdown.
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Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 3:26 PM UTC
Letdown
The days are endless and the pain is permenant The nights are watching the fan dance on the ceiling and the tears are flowing It all started when they poured the anger and the sadness into my heart I couldn't tell them to stop, I couldn't do a thing & it turns out, it was actually cement And thats when you came along right there, at the perfect moment, to walk all over me, and now my heart bleeds your footprints & thats the thing about cement once it hardens it takes years and constant strength to crack, if your lucky. They tell me I should be okay That what they did shouldn't hurt me in the slightest Then they tell me my thoughts are wrongful, that I should just move on but I can't grasp what they mean all I want is someone to drill my cemented heart to smithereens then, maybe, I'll be able to sleep again & maybe I'll be able to feel that heartbeat the one they say, makes you a free spirit For now the endless days carry on and I'm stuck with a cemented heart that just won't break.
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Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 1:53 AM UTC
Cemented Heart
She writes a story of an empty promise A shallow dream Where a body lays sloppily covered with a mound of dirt Screaming for attention it never got within the existence of life Nobody seems to mind While the soul of the tormented cries selfishly over what was lost What was taken for granted Given up without a thought Now left to wallow in the winds No chance for tomorrow And nobody to blame but his own stupid choice To put a revolver in his mouth And press the button To an unforgivable sin An irreversible curse of self pity And the inability to feel the tickle of God's creatures ripping away what is left Of that hallow subsistence She writes a story of an empty promise Again.. and Again... With no chance for an end
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Sep 17, 2010
Sep 17, 2010 at 12:21 AM UTC
Death is the Most Permenant Form of a Single Life
inner struggles heart so true how could it not be You am I a fool pulse races lingering thoughts whatever you want how we enjoy the taunt breathing steadies surrender wins how do I begin when its going to sting stronger than ever lost in your essence if only t'was a permenant presence taking what is for thats all there is to give releasing the sin living now from within
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Jan 15, 2010
Jan 15, 2010 at 11:18 AM UTC
Deep Breaths
I need to find new ways to express the same way I've felt year after year. Unique combinations of perfect poetry that somehow convey exactly what I go through on a day to day basis. This is me once again trying to shoot that target, even if I never get the chance to yell bullseye. - - - - - - - - - - - - - I miss the sparks we had in every moment together, the ones that ignited our love to burn ferociously blue, not a gentle red. - - - - - - - - - - - - - That was great but I think I missed, I'll give it another try. - - - - - - - - - - - - - There is no remedy to prescribe for this disease of a life you left me lost in. All I can hope for now is that these words navigate their way onto your screen. I design maps in every poem I jot down, with the illusion that someday you WILL find the path back to us. - - - - - - - - - - - - No... that one was accurate, but I'll try to be more precise. - - - - - - - - - - - - I falsify myself anytime someone looks at me by wearing a mask that I'm not sure I can ever take off. I don't have the courage to do that, because there's not a right way to explain how such permenant blemishes didn't start off as birthmarks.  They don't even look like scars, but rather lesions where you chose to purposely poison every inch of my being.    My only method of eradicating you from my body was to turn my emotional pen and ink into something that I'm not embarrased to show the world. My tattoos are etched so that I can finally decide what I look like on the outside, the person I saw myself becoming before I met you. Although, even these painful shades I continue forcing myself to endure won't hide the knowledge I am left blinded by.   We both know the real ones were engraved a long time ago in spaces so buried, so bottomless that not even the busiest gravedigger could stumble upon them. - - - - - - - - - - That felt like a closer hit. Next time I decide to load my handgun I'll make sure to take a deep breath and focus, maybe then can I actually shoot the center of these criminal emotions that ****** me time and time again.
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Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 2:48 PM UTC
Misfired bullets.
I need to find new ways to express the same way I've felt year after year. Unique combinations of perfect poetry that somehow convey exactly what I go through on a day to day basis. This is me once again trying to shoot that target, even if I never get the chance to yell bullseye. - - - - - - - - - - - - - I miss the sparks we had in every moment together, the ones that ignited our love to burn ferociously blue, not a gentle red. - - - - - - - - - - - - - That was great but I think I missed, I'll give it another try. - - - - - - - - - - - - - There is no remedy to prescribe for this disease of a life you left me lost in. All I can hope for now is that these words navigate their way onto your screen. I design maps in every poem I jot down, with the illusion that someday you WILL find the path back to us. - - - - - - - - - - - - No... that one was accurate, but I'll try to be more precise. - - - - - - - - - - - - I falsify myself anytime someone looks at me by wearing a mask that I'm not sure I can ever take off. I don't have the courage to do that, because there's not a right way to explain how such permenant blemishes didn't start off as birthmarks.  They don't even look like scars, but rather lesions where you chose to purposely poison every inch of my being.    My only method of eradicating you from my body was to turn my emotional pen and ink into something that I'm not embarrased to show the world. My tattoos are etched so that I can finally decide what I look like on the outside, the person I saw myself becoming before I met you. Although, even these painful shades I continue forcing myself to endure won't hide the knowledge I am left blinded by.   We both know the real ones were engraved a long time ago in spaces so buried, so bottomless that not even the busiest gravedigger could stumble upon them. - - - - - - - - - - That felt like a closer hit. Next time I decide to load my handgun I'll make sure to take a deep breath and focus, maybe then can I actually shoot the center of these criminal emotions that ****** me time and time again.
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24
Magnum honey put down the gun Please don't do this It wont be any fun I know you're hurting I know you're in pain But suicide is a permenant thing for a temperary Pain I'm here for you your Little Kotehok I will never stray You're stronger then this I know its scary I know you just want to lay down and D I E But Mags Dont do this I need you in my life You're my Onekyh I know you're slipping I know you're empty But put down the Russian ***** And put down that pistel I'm here I'm here for you Lean on me I've got you.
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May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 12:48 PM UTC
Mags
My darling, We sold our hearts on the open market, our profit: series of lies, false desires and shattered hopes. We knew the risks, knew the tribulation and yet we became love addicts. Who would have thought, us two little girls would become this? Dying shells of innocence. Who would want us now? What would become of us now? Where did it all go wrong? Where did we go wrong, my love. Where did it go wrong? Spiders lacing a sticky web of secrets have choaked our vibrance, left with only remants of joy and diaster. What are we suppose to do? For so long we danced with the Devil. He was the only one who had wanted us. Now I say goodbye to you. I beg of you not to morn the days of us. I beg you to remember the days when like the wind we blew free with no permenant direction. I must leave you, but I will not stay long in this world we have created. We will forever have the memories when ignorance was bliss and innocence was just passing. I love you and if I could I would be lying right beside you, stroking the sun lit hair. I leave you, my love. I believe our last addiction will be our last...
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Jan 9, 2011
Jan 9, 2011 at 4:35 AM UTC
Addict's Lullaby
The bugs in my head won't go away, They've taken up permenant residence in my brain, I can feel them at the nape of my neck - they're crawling deeper into me, Eating away, Eroding my mind. If they insist on staying I hope the memory of you is the first to go.
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May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 10:48 PM UTC
Creepy Crawlers
I still remember how you looked that January afternoon The way your hair was after the snow. The briefest of split seconds- as it landed, before it melted to nothing. Bitterly cold but suffocatingly warm The start of something was crisp in the air. Unfamiliraties and awkwardness melted away with the snow And something else came and replaced it. Something infinite and permenant. Something beautiful. In that solitary moment we could never have thought it might not quite last forever. That's why the snow always makes me think of you. After it all.
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Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 8:58 AM UTC
15:37
Nothing about us without us, Always about us, you're without us. Including the moments in history, that deserve our religious screams, our outrage and defiance, The human rights that slip your systemic mind from time to time, because it comes with a billboard that has a painted letter of a capital D. We own the crippled and crumpled pages, Your oppression is our spark of history, Flattering the pages and creating a novel, a permenant marker of our precence. Will you pick it up and understand? We made our place in the palm of your hand, This is about us, and without us you wont stand.
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Jan 7, 2020
Jan 7, 2020 at 4:43 PM UTC
Nothing about us, without us
If only for a moment I choose to glance, Im subject to that terrible chance That only we alone might understand what it is we're so capable of. When I look at you, I cant help but wonder how you ended up so incredibly lost. Jaded and sedated, a glare aware but medicated is all thats looking back at me. And so this love? Well it isnt only a place, but essential I realize as the salt soaks my face. When I look in The Mirror Im overcome with disgrace, for the damage I so willingly embrace, is now all too permenant- like a scar sculpts the face: away from the mirror myself I must chase, round and around in life's fatal race.
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Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 8:33 AM UTC
The Mirror
The lights switch off But the smile stays Plastered on and Completely fake It won't come off It never will Tears begin to fall Smiling still The screams are heard across the house no one cares it's normal now Breaking into pieces thoughts locked in cages break down the walls and rewrite your pages
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Dec 9, 2020
Dec 9, 2020 at 12:49 AM UTC
Permenant Smile
They stare Too many of them do it They look at you with their sideways face. They don't peer They arn't peers Lack all intuition And empathy "What?" "Huh?" With a plastered on smile On their sideways face I am done trying to explain to the people frozen in their permenant Dutch Angles "Wait, what?" You can stick your sideways face up your sideways ***
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Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 7:10 AM UTC
Canted
Of all the things you've looked at and said "Wow, that's so beautiful." How many are still there? Ten? Maybe just the ocean? Picture a playground Swing set jungle gym Whatevers on a childrens playground It's behind your house. You go there twice a week There's tutus and there's overalls And there's little horses with springs on the bottom That are slightly rusted But they rock back and fourth and don't fall over anyway Because they're so far Dug down into that playground tar It's just, permenant It takes three men wearing orange vests to pull it out of the ground. There are memories there. Some of them are even caught on video And you You can't go there again
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May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 11:58 AM UTC
Spring Horse
Hang on me on a telephone pole And let my skin crackle and Crinkle in the sun. Let the ravens make nests in my hair Until they cloak me with a cape As feathery and black as death Who comes to say hello. He embraces me. Tells me my soul is desirable. He wraps his arms around me. And kisses my mouth. The kiss is soft and cold And permenant
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Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 11:46 AM UTC
A friend like death
3/27/2016 teeter tottering on my penny loafers down Nassau street, I smelled a Newport and remembered why it reminded me of the days full of princetonian guile, that were no more two years ago to the date, I was meeting so many new people finding out what it was like making a habit out of going downtown. two years later I take the train downtown that is, in a different town. My paltry self, forgettable as the days went on, fading quietly in my own personal, dark mess, crawled through alleyways and down stair cases and up them to rooftops. Now my sense of self sits slobbering on a desk, the town feels surreal to me I prefer New York of course. I went to visit him, sat on that conjugal bed and traced ribcage, Looked out the window saw all of New York the empire shining like a big sparkly monster, the staid windows that each held, You know, a different story, or something. The smell of hot trash- you know, I miss that I tell her "Id spend a day in a landfill just to live there." As opposed to an hour on the train tracks. well, at least it is an hour. I grab a hot chocolate just like the old days, on Witherspoon, and trace the route I took a year ago down Stockton when I went to pick you up from the arriving section of the station. Now I'm hoping I'll hobble over to depart and you'll walk a certain way just in a different city To penn station two years or so from now, I suppose "If I'm not dead by then," I laugh with her I'll stay in New York for good- with you. But I went from the permenant staid fixture on the Nassau sidewalk to a typhoidic city rat in a year so who knows I hope it does not happen again for I didn't care much for Princeton As opposed to sharing a pantry with you those tall grey monsters in the backdrop painting, in the Greek tragedy of life, our lives.
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Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 6:10 PM UTC
Pasqua
3/27/2016 teeter tottering on my penny loafers down Nassau street, I smelled a Newport and remembered why it reminded me of the days full of princetonian guile, that were no more two years ago to the date, I was meeting so many new people finding out what it was like making a habit out of going downtown. two years later I take the train downtown that is, in a different town. My paltry self, forgettable as the days went on, fading quietly in my own personal, dark mess, crawled through alleyways and down stair cases and up them to rooftops. Now my sense of self sits slobbering on a desk, the town feels surreal to me I prefer New York of course. I went to visit him, sat on that conjugal bed and traced ribcage, Looked out the window saw all of New York the empire shining like a big sparkly monster, the staid windows that each held, You know, a different story, or something. The smell of hot trash- you know, I miss that I tell her "Id spend a day in a landfill just to live there." As opposed to an hour on the train tracks. well, at least it is an hour. I grab a hot chocolate just like the old days, on Witherspoon, and trace the route I took a year ago down Stockton when I went to pick you up from the arriving section of the station. Now I'm hoping I'll hobble over to depart and you'll walk a certain way just in a different city To penn station two years or so from now, I suppose "If I'm not dead by then," I laugh with her I'll stay in New York for good- with you. But I went from the permenant staid fixture on the Nassau sidewalk to a typhoidic city rat in a year so who knows I hope it does not happen again for I didn't care much for Princeton As opposed to sharing a pantry with you those tall grey monsters in the backdrop painting, in the Greek tragedy of life, our lives.
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54
How quick i am to leave permenant reminders on my body for moments of psychological pain But then again, those moments are excruciating and overwhelming, swalloing all other thoughts
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Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 7:51 PM UTC
Untitled