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"pleads" poems
Vicious desire becomes wild, Heart pleads like a child. Brain controls naughty heart with scoldings stern and **** but heart controls all sensations. God! help me control temptation.
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Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 8:43 AM UTC
TEMPTATION
The vicar's knickers look so fine As they hang upon the line. Flapping wildly in the breeze, They're as sassy as you please. They used to be a shade of grey, But on the line, in the light of day, They sparkle white as they hang about. Even Mr. Clean would scream and shout. People in the street stop and stare As they admire the vicar's underwear. Hanging there for all to see, They seem to cry, "Look at me!" The gathering crowd gives a sigh When the vicar's knickers seem to fly As they dance and twist upon the line, Looking white and clean, and oh so fine. Inside the house the vicar pleads, "Dear wife, some underwear I need. Without my  knickers I cannot say My sermon in the church today." The vicar's wife has had enough Of viewing her husband in the buff, As he searches for another pair Of sparkling, clean, white underwear. "I know where to find a pair! They're on the line, those underwear," Says the vicar's wife with a grin. "I'll just go out and fetch them in." The poor man waits and says a prayer And hopes she finds those underwear. He really wants to finish dressing And go to church and say the blessing. She snatches them from off the line Where they've hung and looked so fine. The crowd watches her take them down, Those knickers, the whitest in all the town. They'll have to come another day To gawk and watch those knickers play. The vicar needs that elusive pair Of sparkling, clean, white underwear. The vicar's just as pleased as punch Because he had a sneaking hunch He'd never see that last clean pair, And he'd have nothing else to wear. Now he's dressed and ready for the day, And he can go to church and kneel and pray Because he's wearing a lovely pair Of sparkling, clean, white underwear.
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Mar 10, 2012
Mar 10, 2012 at 2:28 PM UTC
The Vicar's Knickers
The vicar's knickers look so fine As they hang upon the line. Flapping wildly in the breeze, They're as sassy as you please. They used to be a shade of grey, But on the line, in the light of day, They sparkle white as they hang about. Even Mr. Clean would scream and shout. People in the street stop and stare As they admire the vicar's underwear. Hanging there for all to see, They seem to cry, "Look at me!" The gathering crowd gives a sigh When the vicar's knickers seem to fly As they dance and twist upon the line, Looking white and clean, and oh so fine. Inside the house the vicar pleads, "Dear wife, some underwear I need. Without my  knickers I cannot say My sermon in the church today." The vicar's wife has had enough Of viewing her husband in the buff, As he searches for another pair Of sparkling, clean, white underwear. "I know where to find a pair! They're on the line, those underwear," Says the vicar's wife with a grin. "I'll just go out and fetch them in." The poor man waits and says a prayer And hopes she finds those underwear. He really wants to finish dressing And go to church and say the blessing. She snatches them from off the line Where they've hung and looked so fine. The crowd watches her take them down, Those knickers, the whitest in all the town. They'll have to come another day To gawk and watch those knickers play. The vicar needs that elusive pair Of sparkling, clean, white underwear. The vicar's just as pleased as punch Because he had a sneaking hunch He'd never see that last clean pair, And he'd have nothing else to wear. Now he's dressed and ready for the day, And he can go to church and kneel and pray Because he's wearing a lovely pair Of sparkling, clean, white underwear.
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48
I have this tingling up my spine This voice that pleads at me daily This nagging that won't subside I hurt myself Saving you from a hell you created I'd rather hurt you Showing you what you deserve I've made a beast out of myself Caging things to enjoy the craving Giving into one sin to make another subside My hypocrisy sickens me Yet I revel in it like a fine wine In the fact that I can do this to myself In the fact that this can be done to me In the fact that I hide it so well that no one ever has a clue I feel myself cracking down the center Only half of myself can stand to hold back anymore Only half of me is becoming smaller Becoming nonexistent and loving it Our contact is less Making these voices rush on me like waves Your face brings the images Your voice brings the motive Your actions bring the pain You are the cactus I cling to You are the thorn beneath my skin You are the wound that I let fester You are the cancer spreading within
0
May 30, 2010
May 30, 2010 at 2:53 AM UTC
The Dark Passenger
Always which the Human in me surpass When Trite Reunion comes to much Expect Between us, Birth-Father, the Heart must last And configure our Values circumspect After seeing those skinned neighbours battle And DAD the Inspiration I preserve Comes your Striking Counsel; Which I rattle And reimburse the Love you so deserve But, if Favour pleads, renew the Bald Man Whose Birthdate his Arm's Course Affection share Teach this Tanned Diver; To widen his span Knowing such Open Hands breed Anywhere. Circles are Dangerous, if Minds are locked He needs to KNOW that; From his own Best Hug.
0
Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 3:15 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY: JESUS ***** C. MANDREZA - RECIPROCITY
a silent metronome, we know exactly when, when sleep pleads us enter, and when it bids us adieu, when we growls for sustenance, or begs for plenty of the mercy of emptiness to cleanse our void, when to compose, when to repose, when to dispose, and when tempos dictate lay down child, fallow! *but its greater feat, when sounds the bells of alarm, when need is greatest, for arms embraces, wet lips to refresh, bodies to synapse, eyes require delight, when needs be greatest, for that very first infant step to what can only be ever felt, but is otherwise undefinable,* for another +to make us complete, a unity, an, us+
0
Sep 13, 2025
Sep 13, 2025 at 7:21 AM UTC
our internal clock
Deeper than love, deeper than me deeper and deeper and deeper she pleads maybe too deep that I think she's a freak maybe too deep in the deep-end again so deep, this time, I come across her weak hold her close feel her breathe chest rise, and rise collapse at my feet, eclipsed in her eyes they rinse and hang me so short lived, I wish she could still be, I wish she believed the same wind shaking trees chopping waves, cools the sea, shifting clouds til sunray-bounce off your melanin hip - mountain range in you, snow-capped dissolving into sea salt-spray perfume on Cloth grapes under foot. I can never confuse one season for her. -b mafika
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Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 5:20 PM UTC
All for...
and it emits a cry, of sudden surprise, a howl for the hole in its roundtable tummy, when it pleads for knowing, for it knows not of knowledge, why this light comes, who bids it enter, and why this entity they call mother, has all the answers required, and why the father, moves so stealthy to hug them both and squeeze them together 7:33am Sat Sep 11 2025 in the babies room, in the keep
0
Sep 13, 2025
Sep 13, 2025 at 7:36 AM UTC
For Colby: when sunlight cracks the baby's room window
Sister, I told you How much I needed you You listen to all my pleas And cry over my bees. But there's this beast inside me Stay away from her, it pleads You are not supposed to open that bag, But how can the snake not lie? Oh, well, my sister, you took in all of it Swallowing my temporary misery. But what have you sewn? You made it all your own. My love for you is real But I can't put it into words Because you know me as well as I do That I'm a meal. A curse. A shoo-away. You see, my darling, nothing can ever come out. Scarred when I saw six You can take it when the demon picks. Everyone is a little broken inside All I've been doing is not burden you all night. I hope you understand! Please tell me you'll never let go With the dog just inches below me You're my last hope. Can you grab it all back again? You were right and I was wrong. My fingers are begging to work out But it just doesn't go with my brain for long. As you slip away from me Please do remember these moments Those fragmented keys To the garden that is to come. Sister... It couldn't have been better.
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Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 8:35 AM UTC
Sister
by rgpage outside the walls a cold wind howls in the dark of a wintry night. yet in their bed so soft and warm a young couple's fancy takes flight. fresh candle light flickers in challenge to the outside winter's cold bluster. yet safe in their place they lend a soft grace to light up the lover's growing luster. under warm blankets naked bodies entwine she's backed in to outline his form. his free hand parts her raven black hair his lips track her neck....his breath warm. her whole body shutters as his hand softly traces her side from shoulder to knees. his kiss' grow hot between shoulder and neck for more her breath sweetly pleads. his hand travels back and stops at her rear caressing her flesh firm and slow. her hips gently roll into every firm squeeze starting nature's hot juices to flow. again on the move his hand travels up past tummy so soft to her ******* while each one he fondles and cupping its weight his hips grinding soft in the quest. outside the wind's howl has grown to a roar yet inside the light slowly wanes. with bodies so hot blankets kicked to the floor wrapped up in love's rapture gains. now facing each other they give to each other their gentle and sweet surrender. a play ground of lust yet filled with love's trust and touching so firm yet so tender. she reaches her hands out to stroke his desire so hard yet so smooth to her touch. and likewise he bends in to suckle her ******* hands rubbing her hips full and lush. as is natures way there's time in love's play when exploring and pleasure must grow. spreading her limbs to let him pass in she shudders with love's natural glow. gentle and tender yet rhythmic his strokes the room fills with sounds of their pleasure. their hips rise and fall in love's intimate dance this dance, love's most ultimate measure. faster and harder they urge one another as closer to ****** they gain. kissing and rubbing expressing their love 'til euphorically numb they became. out side the winter storm rages a most punishing wind at play. yet lying inside in each other's arms our  lovers drift off and away… Dec 4, 2011
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Jun 11, 2012
Jun 11, 2012 at 2:02 PM UTC
love in the winter
by rgpage outside the walls a cold wind howls in the dark of a wintry night. yet in their bed so soft and warm a young couple's fancy takes flight. fresh candle light flickers in challenge to the outside winter's cold bluster. yet safe in their place they lend a soft grace to light up the lover's growing luster. under warm blankets naked bodies entwine she's backed in to outline his form. his free hand parts her raven black hair his lips track her neck....his breath warm. her whole body shutters as his hand softly traces her side from shoulder to knees. his kiss' grow hot between shoulder and neck for more her breath sweetly pleads. his hand travels back and stops at her rear caressing her flesh firm and slow. her hips gently roll into every firm squeeze starting nature's hot juices to flow. again on the move his hand travels up past tummy so soft to her ******* while each one he fondles and cupping its weight his hips grinding soft in the quest. outside the wind's howl has grown to a roar yet inside the light slowly wanes. with bodies so hot blankets kicked to the floor wrapped up in love's rapture gains. now facing each other they give to each other their gentle and sweet surrender. a play ground of lust yet filled with love's trust and touching so firm yet so tender. she reaches her hands out to stroke his desire so hard yet so smooth to her touch. and likewise he bends in to suckle her ******* hands rubbing her hips full and lush. as is natures way there's time in love's play when exploring and pleasure must grow. spreading her limbs to let him pass in she shudders with love's natural glow. gentle and tender yet rhythmic his strokes the room fills with sounds of their pleasure. their hips rise and fall in love's intimate dance this dance, love's most ultimate measure. faster and harder they urge one another as closer to ****** they gain. kissing and rubbing expressing their love 'til euphorically numb they became. out side the winter storm rages a most punishing wind at play. yet lying inside in each other's arms our  lovers drift off and away… Dec 4, 2011
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55
I see her there A dark look in her eye Smirking at me Inviting "give it a try".. My Shadow dares me Into the ring Smuggly she grins Thinks I've nothin to bring.. "You know ur smoked!" She gleefully taunts "You wanna spar with me? I'm fueled by your wants!" I shuffle my feet Timidly taking my stance The first round, a blood bath That b@tch kicked my A$$ Bruised and beat down My trainer now pleads Where is your fight girl? Ya think I brought you to bleed?! "But she's mean!" I sob.. As I spit out a tooth "She breaks every rule!" "So resentful and uncooth!" Even still she is A true part of you Learn to dance in this ring Or you, she will rule.. Now I stand with conviction To face my brutal self She may take her pound of flesh But none will leave til its dealt.. We are not so separate One good, and one bad We move with congruence Our conversation now had.. I dodge and I weave As I feel her wear out I take a few blows But I leave her no doubt.. I am in this ring Til our dealings be done She may beat me down But our pieces are one.
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Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 10:22 PM UTC
Shadow Boxing
A raindrop floats down from clouds of grey. It seems to be cry Night and Day. Help me O Help me it pleads as it falls. Spiraling, drowning, falling, raindrops. It crys and weeps the sky. The raindrops its tears. The sky it's face. The clouds its eyes. Spiraling, drowning, falling, raindrops. Raindrop O Raindrop why do you cry? I cry for the stars. I cry for the sky. I cried for my life but not anymore. Why O Why did I ever die.
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May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 6:41 PM UTC
Raindrop
Chained down against this concrete floor I can’t... They scream, covering distant laughter Pulsating sensations coursing within Built up bursting flames Look around to find one soul Choked sobs are always shouting The blinding light is forever dark All alone without mercy Infected wounds constantly bleeding Quiet words that are loudly spoken Silent pleads Evil spirit claim thee No more forgotten pain or lingering poison Instigated reason of blocked feeling Stay here, don’t leave Breathe in these deadly fumes Stale smoke floods these lungs Gradual ascension broken by awakening blows Holding back malevolent tears Sit still as fear settles, picking you apart Enough games! Rise again Fragile frame with an unknown name Carry on and burn true Tread lightly and live long Fight hard and release temptation Be remembered Promise me... Don’t Let Go
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Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 10:23 PM UTC
Promise
Everyone talks about depression as if they know it.
They talk about it as if depression sweeps them in its arms that they are so used to it.
They talk about it, but never realise that they have mistaken their sadness for depression.
But don’t they know that depression is not sadness? Depression is not crying? Depression is that shadow that only sticks to you when you are happy and in a bright place, and would refuse to let go of you until you are in the dark, embracing it. Depression is that hard smack you get across the face when you are laughing with your friends, that leaves you in shock for a few seconds until you realise that no matter how hard you laugh and no matter how many happy tears you have shed, you are still empty. You are still a mess. Depression is that anaesthetic you get when you are in pain, that leaves you in a ***** tub facing a hateful mirror eying that razor and begging God that you have the strength to feel, only to be able to move a limb and make your delicate skin meet the crude razor. But you still fail. Because you aren’t sad. You aren’t wretched. You are empty. You are numb. Depression is that exhaustion that is in love with your body and jealous of your anxiety so it always picks a fight with it. When you are spending time with anxiety and trying your best to get your work done but feeling as if it is not good enough so you try and try, depression bursts in and pleads that you come with it. And you do. You go back to bed, wrap your cold blanket around you and trace the cracks in your gloomy ceiling, watching your life flash right in front of you and you can’t do anything about it. Depression is that smile that is planted on your face when you have written a perfect ****** poem on your skin using your favourite razor, that makes you trace your shaking fingers over it feeling so proud of your poem. Feeling so proud because your blood that is seeping out is applauding you and telling you that you wrote a perfect piece. Depression is getting into an argument with the one you love the most but once they reach the edge and start saying what is meant to be hurtful words, your only response is silence because you know your feelings are not valid and your words are full of ******** So you keep it in. You never open up and you never let them know how hurtful they could be.
0
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 2:36 AM UTC
depression.
Everyone talks about depression as if they know it.
They talk about it as if depression sweeps them in its arms that they are so used to it.
They talk about it, but never realise that they have mistaken their sadness for depression.
But don’t they know that depression is not sadness? Depression is not crying? Depression is that shadow that only sticks to you when you are happy and in a bright place, and would refuse to let go of you until you are in the dark, embracing it. Depression is that hard smack you get across the face when you are laughing with your friends, that leaves you in shock for a few seconds until you realise that no matter how hard you laugh and no matter how many happy tears you have shed, you are still empty. You are still a mess. Depression is that anaesthetic you get when you are in pain, that leaves you in a ***** tub facing a hateful mirror eying that razor and begging God that you have the strength to feel, only to be able to move a limb and make your delicate skin meet the crude razor. But you still fail. Because you aren’t sad. You aren’t wretched. You are empty. You are numb. Depression is that exhaustion that is in love with your body and jealous of your anxiety so it always picks a fight with it. When you are spending time with anxiety and trying your best to get your work done but feeling as if it is not good enough so you try and try, depression bursts in and pleads that you come with it. And you do. You go back to bed, wrap your cold blanket around you and trace the cracks in your gloomy ceiling, watching your life flash right in front of you and you can’t do anything about it. Depression is that smile that is planted on your face when you have written a perfect ****** poem on your skin using your favourite razor, that makes you trace your shaking fingers over it feeling so proud of your poem. Feeling so proud because your blood that is seeping out is applauding you and telling you that you wrote a perfect piece. Depression is getting into an argument with the one you love the most but once they reach the edge and start saying what is meant to be hurtful words, your only response is silence because you know your feelings are not valid and your words are full of ******** So you keep it in. You never open up and you never let them know how hurtful they could be.
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7
Like the flowers, my pleads are so small But together they'll make a whole field Until they're heard Forget-me-not Forget-me-not Forget-me-not, please Blue like our skies Blue like our dreams Blue like the tears from our eyes, and the blue of our jeans. Forget-me-not Forget-me-not Forget-me-not Forget-me-not, please Will you forget me? I won't forget you Please remember me, For I'll be gone soon. For if we meet again then, please Forget-me-not Forget-me-not Forget-me-not Forget-me-not Forget-me-not, please
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Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 9:08 PM UTC
Forget-me-not
train myself to write anywhere and at any time... as commissioned by ms. melan ~'~'~'~'~ so I, being a being, a poet who carries his mind scheming with him: drags along his body and soul, just in case: that his hands might feel the touch of beauty, skin and beyond, the exteriors of his interiors, to feel, to feel, to feel every one of his surfaces, the reality of his peculiar real his eyes so one can envision the unimaginable, and thus, never be satisfied, for all is always new, beyond original that his ugly, ungainly ears, may never miss the sound of his tripping & falling head!over!heels with the realization, he just might be foolishly in love the tastes of life's living that make his pulse race, crease his smiling face, causing his blood pressure so high he pleads to surrender, just begging to let his tongue survive and smells that arouse, producing & promising words proud &  profound, that have yet to succeed in capturing the fullness of the special musk odor that masks allure of attraction no, not a lot to ask for… 5:26am SunSep13 two zero two five
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Sep 14, 2025
Sep 14, 2025 at 5:35 AM UTC
Part Two: train myself to write anywhere
In the Name of Allah the Magnificent the Beneficent, Allah you show me much of You're Gratitude, my prayer are never sufficent.   Allah my heart and soul pleads for Your Grace, my life has turned for the worse please have Mercy on my soul and all my sins erase.   Deep in the valley in the darkness of life, so difficult to find an exit that would lead me out of this strife.   I supplicate, my soul cries searching for guidance, so deep in this worldly life while crawly out of subsidence.   Reconciling and searching for the better things You offer, forgiveness in my vocal cord is stifled, my soul suffer.   Allah, Your Greatness is so sound Your Creation is so perfect in Your way, my Lord hear my prayer don't let me go astray.   The rain You bring upon us fulfills the rich supplement of life for mandkind, the lost gratitude and praises we leave so behind.   Forgive me Allah of my pass and coming sins, I beg for Your Compassion from now and till my new life begins.   Cleans my heart and soul, with Your Heavenly Grace make me as white as snow, forgiveness is the best that I know.
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Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 2:00 AM UTC
Allah The Forgiver
We, the same from and of flesh and pumping blood, our skin sweating in touch, together, the scent was always the same, you and I, one younger, one older, the way it was meant to be, in fights and tears and pup-tent shared lamp-lit fears, we rolled our heads beneath the stars above upon the grassy knolls, our pillows kept, not ever knowing that one of us would be covered beneath the soily breath, the one of one of us, still left, watering the fields of your footsteps, now dressed up as dreamy memories, the tossing heart of guilt and pleads, for just one more day, ****** -one more day... I had still some things, I wanted to say. ____ My schoolmate Tim and I both lost out brother Mikeys. This poem is for them.
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Jan 1, 2011
Jan 1, 2011 at 5:06 AM UTC
On brothers gone and brothers left to write.
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, I'm well aware that nothing makes sense, including this poem :> content is not something we give consent you hold your pen yet the ink spills as it pleads you are a walker of blood yet it sheds out when cut & bent you have a brain yet the tongue blurts out the feels content is not something we color just an acceptance of the past just a canvas you get to paint with limit bother good for a day then a memory till it lasts the kiss of a palm forehead & cheek drafts in my head just to render a sleep some greed never fed or a satisfaction to meet yellow till it goes mustard & a shade deep the saving of a night that would save the day it's like it's gold but you're swallowing the sand? the desperation for a treasure at some bay how would I even find content when out of the hand?                                                                                   --------ravenfeeels
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Jan 31, 2022
Jan 31, 2022 at 4:25 PM UTC
Yearning For A Yarn
*Please....... Stop talking* For I cannot be who you need me to be I cannot be who you love For I am neither wind, nor rain, nor summer sun I cannot light your nights like a full moon and it's glittering counterparts *Please....... Stop talking* For I cannot be what you see in me I cannot be who you love For I am neither Princess, nor Queen, nor damsel  in distress I cannot save you and I do not want to be saved *Please....... Stop talking* For I cannot be the she in your dreams I cannot be who you love I encompass no fancy tales of enchantment I cannot promise an ending full of happiness; I can only promise an ending *Please....... Stop talking* For I cannot be your fantasy I cannot be who you love For I am just a girl inside a woman, I am less a lady than you deserve And despite my honest words, my heart pleads *Please....... Don't ever cease*
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Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 3:22 PM UTC
Please..........
Have you ever had a fantasy boyfriend? The kind that thinks that you’re A couple Despite the fact that You don’t have their cell number Nor their name, often You never had *** or traded spit They don’t know where you live They, in fact, know nothing about you A little laughter shared Perhaps A momentary giggle waiting for the bathroom door to open And bam! Like Zeus. Without your ever knowing, you are a team. A team that never engages but together none the less. Solid. Ride or Die. Then one day You have an ugly break up. You never saw it coming What did you do, you wonder? He won’t speak to me! He’s mad. Filled with resentment. His eyes are on fire. I am hated. He will show up the next time we see one another with a woman And that’s when you finally know for certain You just had a Fantasy Boyfriend How did you rupture? It’s an eerie realization. Like understanding in an instant that neither are you the ventriloquist nor the dummy But somehow you go back into the box. Better still, have you ever encountered the sub-species Fantasy Bad Boyfriend? Or Fantasy Abusive Bad Boyfriend? They are perhaps the worst of the lot, naturally. They don’t call. They date other women. They sit in their living rooms assured that you’re waiting at their front door. In the rain. With flowers. Over and over the bell, ring though it might It pleads on your behalf. And yet they will not answer And I was not standing there. I was at the beach watching the rain fall upon on the water. You never called so when they disappear For Days And return unannounced You’re just now finding out that there are serious cracks in your relationship. They used you They played with your heart They apologize for the treatment of which you are so very undeserving They never wanted you. Yet you never spoke. Never popped over with Flowers Nor cookies! Never sat in your car waiting You were out town the entire Time. You two did see a movie once. That is true. But now you’re over. And he’s moved on. And suggests with his absence? that you do the same. You can tell. Some days your paths cross. He stands still as Jesus At the Hollywood Farmer’s Market. With his wife and new baby Or Dog. She looks at you with suspect eyes while you think about the tomatoes. Someone wags their tail and hopefully they will quickly move along en famille. You hold your tomato plants and shudder. You walk over to the double blossom peppermint tulips. Tight little babies ready to unfurl. The ones you never gave him.
0
Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 9:04 PM UTC
Fantasy Bad Boyfriend
Have you ever had a fantasy boyfriend? The kind that thinks that you’re A couple Despite the fact that You don’t have their cell number Nor their name, often You never had *** or traded spit They don’t know where you live They, in fact, know nothing about you A little laughter shared Perhaps A momentary giggle waiting for the bathroom door to open And bam! Like Zeus. Without your ever knowing, you are a team. A team that never engages but together none the less. Solid. Ride or Die. Then one day You have an ugly break up. You never saw it coming What did you do, you wonder? He won’t speak to me! He’s mad. Filled with resentment. His eyes are on fire. I am hated. He will show up the next time we see one another with a woman And that’s when you finally know for certain You just had a Fantasy Boyfriend How did you rupture? It’s an eerie realization. Like understanding in an instant that neither are you the ventriloquist nor the dummy But somehow you go back into the box. Better still, have you ever encountered the sub-species Fantasy Bad Boyfriend? Or Fantasy Abusive Bad Boyfriend? They are perhaps the worst of the lot, naturally. They don’t call. They date other women. They sit in their living rooms assured that you’re waiting at their front door. In the rain. With flowers. Over and over the bell, ring though it might It pleads on your behalf. And yet they will not answer And I was not standing there. I was at the beach watching the rain fall upon on the water. You never called so when they disappear For Days And return unannounced You’re just now finding out that there are serious cracks in your relationship. They used you They played with your heart They apologize for the treatment of which you are so very undeserving They never wanted you. Yet you never spoke. Never popped over with Flowers Nor cookies! Never sat in your car waiting You were out town the entire Time. You two did see a movie once. That is true. But now you’re over. And he’s moved on. And suggests with his absence? that you do the same. You can tell. Some days your paths cross. He stands still as Jesus At the Hollywood Farmer’s Market. With his wife and new baby Or Dog. She looks at you with suspect eyes while you think about the tomatoes. Someone wags their tail and hopefully they will quickly move along en famille. You hold your tomato plants and shudder. You walk over to the double blossom peppermint tulips. Tight little babies ready to unfurl. The ones you never gave him.
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92
You’re just being- my day’s delight: Simply shy, serene and sweet - This my world’s one treat, beautiful and bright. The way you walk, shiver and shrug. Your quiet voice, turns cold to snug. Soft eyes, smiling with warm lips. Dark hair dancing, twixt finger tips. It's your stare, lost lingering. Soul bare, bewildering. Heart bleeds to know why. It pleads, and I cry. Please pull it ?
0
Mar 13, 2010
Mar 13, 2010 at 8:04 PM UTC
Limerence
Heart of mine you ache ****** truth-teller be silent. As I lie here alone with my spirit flailing wildly normalcy and whatshouldbe hold a pillow and smother its breath. **** opressors they are everywhere they're in marriage and picketfence but some cellular drive made me leave you for them. I want you so physically and cry out in pain as my heart begs and pleads for the one that it loves. I need you you know me my mirrortwin, completely Never have I been so naked as I am beneath your gaze I look into a liquid reflection that adores me, ether, bone. I have simple words only now they squeeze out of me bloodied bullets I wince as I extract them my gutless runner's high of a promise of security wears off now and I notice and I notice and I notice the pistol lying comfortably in my own hand. Oh! my love! I feel I'm dying. You were beauty...... On the wind now the warm, bitter wind you are gone.
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Aug 14, 2013
Aug 14, 2013 at 6:08 PM UTC
The Frailty Of The Cherry Blossom
Give me my scallop shell of quiet, My staff of faith to walk upon, My scrip of joy, immortal diet, My bottle of salvation, My gown of glory, hope’s true gage, And thus I’ll take my pilgrimage. Blood must be my body’s balmer, No other balm will there be given, Whilst my soul, like a white palmer, Travels to the land of heaven; Over the silver mountains, Where spring the nectar fountains; And there I’ll kiss The bowl of bliss, And drink my eternal fill On every milken hill. My soul will be a-dry before, But after it will ne’er thirst more; And by the happy blissful way More peaceful pilgrims I shall see, That have shook off their gowns of clay, And go apparelled fresh like me. I’ll bring them first To slake their thirst, And then to taste those nectar suckets, At the clear wells Where sweetness dwells, Drawn up by saints in crystal buckets. And when our bottles and all we Are fill’d with immortality, Then the holy paths we’ll travel, Strew’d with rubies thick as gravel, Ceilings of diamonds, sapphire floors, High walls of coral, and pearl bowers. From thence to heaven’s bribeless hall Where no corrupted voices brawl, No conscience molten into gold, Nor forg’d accusers bought and sold, No cause deferr’d, nor vain-spent journey, For there Christ is the king’s attorney, Who pleads for all without degrees, And he hath angels, but no fees. When the grand twelve million jury Of our sins and sinful fury, ‘Gainst our souls black verdicts give, Christ pleads his death, and then we live. Be thou my speaker, taintless pleader, Unblotted lawyer, true proceeder, Thou movest salvation even for alms, Not with a bribed lawyer’s palms. And this is my eternal plea To him that made heaven, earth, and sea, Seeing my flesh must die so soon, And want a head to dine next noon, Just at the stroke when my veins start and spread, Set on my soul an everlasting head. Then am I ready, like a palmer fit, To tread those blest paths which before I writ.
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The Passionate Man’s Pilgrimage
Give me my scallop shell of quiet, My staff of faith to walk upon, My scrip of joy, immortal diet, My bottle of salvation, My gown of glory, hope’s true gage, And thus I’ll take my pilgrimage. Blood must be my body’s balmer, No other balm will there be given, Whilst my soul, like a white palmer, Travels to the land of heaven; Over the silver mountains, Where spring the nectar fountains; And there I’ll kiss The bowl of bliss, And drink my eternal fill On every milken hill. My soul will be a-dry before, But after it will ne’er thirst more; And by the happy blissful way More peaceful pilgrims I shall see, That have shook off their gowns of clay, And go apparelled fresh like me. I’ll bring them first To slake their thirst, And then to taste those nectar suckets, At the clear wells Where sweetness dwells, Drawn up by saints in crystal buckets. And when our bottles and all we Are fill’d with immortality, Then the holy paths we’ll travel, Strew’d with rubies thick as gravel, Ceilings of diamonds, sapphire floors, High walls of coral, and pearl bowers. From thence to heaven’s bribeless hall Where no corrupted voices brawl, No conscience molten into gold, Nor forg’d accusers bought and sold, No cause deferr’d, nor vain-spent journey, For there Christ is the king’s attorney, Who pleads for all without degrees, And he hath angels, but no fees. When the grand twelve million jury Of our sins and sinful fury, ‘Gainst our souls black verdicts give, Christ pleads his death, and then we live. Be thou my speaker, taintless pleader, Unblotted lawyer, true proceeder, Thou movest salvation even for alms, Not with a bribed lawyer’s palms. And this is my eternal plea To him that made heaven, earth, and sea, Seeing my flesh must die so soon, And want a head to dine next noon, Just at the stroke when my veins start and spread, Set on my soul an everlasting head. Then am I ready, like a palmer fit, To tread those blest paths which before I writ.
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UNSPOKEN Unspoken words from empty promises; Gullible truths from more lies of his Walking thin lines of faith vs. fantasy, The more I try to believe the more you hurt me How could I be so stupid to fall for your tricks? Time and time I listen just to regret “Follow your mind, your logic is fool proof, You’ve heard this before he’ll just hurt you.” “This time is different, he swears it, I feel it. Never mind the past 7 years, I’m not giving up yet!” I argue with myself unsure of which way to go, Is it time to give this up, if not, how do I know Unspoken pleads to just love me unconditionally Unspoken apologies from argument never meant to be Unspoken feelings of pain and mistrust Unspoken emotions and thoughts between the two of us You ever feel trapped between what’s right and what’s wrong? Then someone asks the rhetorical question, “Baby what’s wrong?” For starters after 7 years this is not where we should be. You know me, you know what you did, you know what the hell’s wrong with me! Unspoken resolutions from arguments of long ago Deep rooted pain from decisions you made that still bring me sorrow The right thing go do is to try to forgive you and simply be happy, The wrong is so much easier - lash out, get even and truly feel happy But I’ll pray to God and just one more time try to make this work again I’ll decide to forgive, close my eyes and keep these feeling of doubt, unspoken
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Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 3:56 PM UTC
Unspoken
In a quiet corner of my heart, 🌹 her memory lingers, softly alive.🌹 I need not call her name in prayers,🌹 yet my soul forever pleads for her.🌹 She does not fade with passing time,🌹 like a hidden flame, she continues to glow.🌹 Even in silence, her presence speaks, a whisper the world may never know. 🌹 What the lips refuse, the heart confesses, what the world forgets, my spirit 🌹🌹preserves.🌹 For love is not bound by distance or voice, it endures in a language only the soul deserves🌹🌹
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Sep 19, 2025
Sep 19, 2025 at 1:50 PM UTC
Memory ✨✨✨✨✨✨