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"posessions" poems
Oh simplicity how you reach out to my closed arms   in fear of how simple it may be to be happy   Without worldly posessions in grasps of their needy hands I've never felt so at peace as the trade winds sweep my hair on delicate sunsets of May   where red wine makes me lush but aware...   of the magnificence of this moment,  here,  now. The geese migrate, I seperate from the man made sounds of the city   although the connect the dots of street lights seem to guide me The shifting landscape   the shifted skew of my life   five years ago I wouldn't have guessed this far The time is so simple, slow-moving, sweet    I can almost feel the heart beat of excitement   or the beat within my youthful feet. The railroad still gleams at dusk   as does the lake shine   as does the hidden blackbirds and blossoms of springtime. I now spend here alone as I did when I was young   troubled, I would run.... to the same spot   and watch the same sun as it shone   day became night   the stars endless candle light Now I'd ponder for hours   leave here smittin   relieved by the gift of life I often forgot how precious simplicity is as I rush through the day... But why can't we just lay back in silence wallow in what is... ponder like a little child of what may be out in the universe I lay here now,  alone Spell bound by what I see an array of colourful hues and natures generosity I wish you were here with me Smoke plumes heave as I exhale through these lungs This place of mine, timeless memories still live here I've come to remember all I have known and the simplicity of happiness still flourishes here just got to stop and wallow...
0
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 1:24 AM UTC
Oh Simplicity
Oh simplicity how you reach out to my closed arms   in fear of how simple it may be to be happy   Without worldly posessions in grasps of their needy hands I've never felt so at peace as the trade winds sweep my hair on delicate sunsets of May   where red wine makes me lush but aware...   of the magnificence of this moment,  here,  now. The geese migrate, I seperate from the man made sounds of the city   although the connect the dots of street lights seem to guide me The shifting landscape   the shifted skew of my life   five years ago I wouldn't have guessed this far The time is so simple, slow-moving, sweet    I can almost feel the heart beat of excitement   or the beat within my youthful feet. The railroad still gleams at dusk   as does the lake shine   as does the hidden blackbirds and blossoms of springtime. I now spend here alone as I did when I was young   troubled, I would run.... to the same spot   and watch the same sun as it shone   day became night   the stars endless candle light Now I'd ponder for hours   leave here smittin   relieved by the gift of life I often forgot how precious simplicity is as I rush through the day... But why can't we just lay back in silence wallow in what is... ponder like a little child of what may be out in the universe I lay here now,  alone Spell bound by what I see an array of colourful hues and natures generosity I wish you were here with me Smoke plumes heave as I exhale through these lungs This place of mine, timeless memories still live here I've come to remember all I have known and the simplicity of happiness still flourishes here just got to stop and wallow...
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39
Sometimes you just feel so zombie esque it hurts to breathe. The twitches of a witch's evil eye. Mirages, of a former ghost. My personalities paid host. Posessions, demonic in blood relations. I'm lost, in my own sea. Dead like the one before me.
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Jun 28, 2017
Jun 28, 2017 at 11:05 AM UTC
Personality Probems.
i find it quite sad that the only thing stopping me from beng who i wish to be is a certain sequence of numbers. numbers seem to have more power over people than any god or government- this world was built- and will burn- because of numbers. bank account statements cause stalemates between myself and my ambitions- I am chained and restrained by my credit score, cruelly kept from exploring distant shores. men slay their fellow man without a second thought for a fat stack of cash and thoughts of what could be bought. John Lennon imagined a world with nothing to **** or die for no posessions too but money is the cruel hand that tears that dream in two. for as long as the concept of money is the fire that drives men's hearts to beat we will never truly see peace, living at the mercy of the balance sheet.
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Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 2:43 PM UTC
numbers
life Our death does not crawl it chases mercilessly fountain of youth lied posessions my fields, my mountains mine mine mine  See all touch nothing my souless kingdom lust taste won't quench desire heat stains ***** like red cedar blood stains innocence Longing A rose kissed by dew Unless living in love's eyes no life has meaning Pinnacle to be the best rose one must smooth the thorns,stand tall bloom and block the sun demented Dark lips and eyes shine dark thoughts meld with needs afire ever in death held.
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Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 12:54 AM UTC
Haiku obsession
Born with nothing Still the same No baggage with me Just my name Don't like planning For what's ahead I'll still have nothing Once I'm dead Keep moving forward Don't look back Leave what's behind you On that track Keep moving forward That's a fact Leave what's behind you And Don't look back I live to party That's my life Don't tie me down With a wife I'm day to day and that's a fact I keep moving on And I don't look back I hate posessions I's born poor Leave your baggage at the door I weren't born with nothing And I want no more So, if you've got baggage Leave it at the door I live to party That's my life Don't tie me down With a wife I'm day to day and that's a fact I keep moving on And I don't look back
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Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 1:44 PM UTC
Don't look back
i probably shouldnt be saying this but i really  can't resist: if we were to suffocate right here in this velvetly air, i probably wouldn't even care we would watch our things, our posessions, our valuables float into the atmosphere as we continue to breathe in the sulfur, ladies and gentleman, prepare to say your last prayer we were designed to go this way, i swear is this really what it takes to make us feel human? is this really what it takes to make us feel alive? i don't know why i'd rather die than to hang on every word like it was your last i really don't mean to sound like such a bother but it's just that i can't seem to figure out why i even bother. and hey, everybody has those days and everybody has those nights like the ones where i lay staring at the ceiling til i feel like i might stop breathing because i don't know who to call at 3 in the morning because i know your sleep is more important because the only trace of "i love you" can be found underneath your finger nails, i can still remember your breathing your skinfolds, the tiny little details but each dig feels sharper than the last because i don't like to write in the last few pages of my notebook because i actually don't want my story to end but here we are we're dying in the street we're struggling to breath and i can't feel my heart beat that's what i wanted, right?
0
Nov 8, 2016
Nov 8, 2016 at 9:36 PM UTC
endings
I remember story books - Hushed fairy tales. (Mine). I remember history - a secret and a fight. How I wanted perfect, but missed the details. (Yours). I forgot to water the plants again, now they have weathered. I could never care or nurture. You gave me far too much. I remember maps, biology, anatomy. Yours, Mine. That anatomy spilled on to the floor, dripping cells. Mine. Bones too brittle and warnings unheeded. Yours and Mine. simple physics to build momentum. It's all just movement after all, isn't it? You were the first push on the pendulum. History spinning in the dirt, hardened in the rocks. It was all bound in to books ( yours) to teach us better than to repeat. It's all just lessons never learned, isn't it? Circles, cycles, spinning- the dancer in the music box. It's all flashes from childhood (mine) - to here. Offered up on a stained platter, tarnished silverware. I was made in to your ******* feast. It was mine, Now it's yours. Diseases polluting the gene pool- Mine. Sickness diluted then strengthened with each pass- Yours. I wanted to see what was underneath. The chambers of the heart, hollows in the bones. It's all just the skeleton's charm after all, isn't it? Breath that burns (yours), tissue paper lungs (mine). Please make me part of it, let the water swallow me. It's all just a shore, traded for the tide, Replenished by waves, always rolling. Littered with grit, treasures, old paper. Yours. Mine. That's all it is, isn't it? Movement (yours), Heartbeats (mine). Trapped feelings (mine), forced motions (yours). A search for truth, a nightmare, a document, A determined fate, is that all it is? It was yours, Now, it's mine.
0
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 8:56 PM UTC
Positions, Posessions
I remember story books - Hushed fairy tales. (Mine). I remember history - a secret and a fight. How I wanted perfect, but missed the details. (Yours). I forgot to water the plants again, now they have weathered. I could never care or nurture. You gave me far too much. I remember maps, biology, anatomy. Yours, Mine. That anatomy spilled on to the floor, dripping cells. Mine. Bones too brittle and warnings unheeded. Yours and Mine. simple physics to build momentum. It's all just movement after all, isn't it? You were the first push on the pendulum. History spinning in the dirt, hardened in the rocks. It was all bound in to books ( yours) to teach us better than to repeat. It's all just lessons never learned, isn't it? Circles, cycles, spinning- the dancer in the music box. It's all flashes from childhood (mine) - to here. Offered up on a stained platter, tarnished silverware. I was made in to your ******* feast. It was mine, Now it's yours. Diseases polluting the gene pool- Mine. Sickness diluted then strengthened with each pass- Yours. I wanted to see what was underneath. The chambers of the heart, hollows in the bones. It's all just the skeleton's charm after all, isn't it? Breath that burns (yours), tissue paper lungs (mine). Please make me part of it, let the water swallow me. It's all just a shore, traded for the tide, Replenished by waves, always rolling. Littered with grit, treasures, old paper. Yours. Mine. That's all it is, isn't it? Movement (yours), Heartbeats (mine). Trapped feelings (mine), forced motions (yours). A search for truth, a nightmare, a document, A determined fate, is that all it is? It was yours, Now, it's mine.
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37
t was simply you that I desired. Not your posessions. Nor your attire. You built me up you took me higher. You made the spark that started my fire. You told me you loved me. And I called you a lier. That Was the last time And now I Conspire I must Love me T o o I need N o t De sire M i s s M a t ch Stricken I am on F I R E!
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Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 8:50 PM UTC
Miss Match : Fire
I dream of greener Pastures Of sunkissed flowers O light and playful air I dream of greater days Spent in the sun Kissed by its sweet rays I dream of unending happiness of joy overflowing Of cups filled to the brim Sweet necter pouring over I dream of brighter days where even the night is illuminated the monsters stay out of sight For I stand with overwhelming might So I smile even as I am bested And I laugh as my posessions are from me wrested. Because my dream is my own in it I can be happy My muscles go on aching My heart feels forever laiden So I dream Of greener pastures For I may never see them in my waking hour.
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Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 1:49 PM UTC
I dream
I once wrote that I liked your posessions left at my house, because it reassured me that you're coming back. It's only now that i realize, with your clothes still at my house, but also the knowledge that you are not coming back, That though i can hold onto you materially, it means nothing more than that alone.
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Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 2:49 PM UTC
The Second of April
Posessions My posessions mean nothing absolutely nothing! I would give up every material thing in my possession Just to see my mother again
0
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 11:04 PM UTC
Possessions
She hides Underneath The blackness Of the spaces in between Galaxies I await her On hopeless knees Whispered forgotten truths Escape the prison of my doubt Shackled to these memories of you I cannot disavow There's no time for a crime Like this tonight I drive In no direction Ignoring your reflection In the rear view mirror And I ponder lonely As I drive away this Fading daylight Who am I to say You're worthy of Such affairs I'm going nowhere Staying there Shouldn't leave you melting No confession No crime We are posessions We are destined To rot in time A plot Unresponsive A godless life I stopped and called you and lied It's just that easy For emotions to die
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Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 7:08 PM UTC
worthy of such affairs
He set out to make her his Broke her walls of protection and built a castle amongst the ruins Violated her dreams and flew kites in the smoke of passion from the fire he left behind He tore apart memories of existence before he entered her life Stole her breath and tricked her heart into stopping yet believing it was the most alive it had ever been Her blood boiled with the whispered words that meant nothing Gripping fingers caged her between the circle of arms He tied her life to his and made the government a witness so she could never escape Uncovered her weaknesses And saw the insecurities and physical blemishes He made her vulnerable Until she accepted love was the biggest gamble she would play So she played to win She would possess him too
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May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 2:40 PM UTC
Love's posessions
Lion Heart, Please, don't tear my fleshly posessions with your sharp teeth, I know that you're hungry And I know that the Great Romans want to have a good laugh, Satisfy their souls feasting on a poor revenge... But on me? Please, I'm begging you for your throat's sake! My Bones are too dry for you.
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Jan 18, 2021
Jan 18, 2021 at 5:01 AM UTC
Lion Heart Please
let me advise you that larch lodge 2 the somerset in newton heath belongs to fwoah and dream. ian built house in 300 ad and never sold it so its ours. current occupier paul dollis to move and take all his posessions so house can be restored.
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Jan 24, 2021
Jan 24, 2021 at 9:30 AM UTC
anne boleyn announcement
I was at the range Guy working there Walks up to me "Stay between the markers" Says "second time" to himself I didn't realize I was hitting A bit in front of these markers That designate where you Should hit ***** And he came over to me Just to bother me To be a **** And that range is A dump The turf is decent But they overcharge you For old and ****** ***** Next time I'll go right to The edge Right along Next to the front Of the markers That way if That rude old man Comes over I'll tell him I'm inside the markers And his opinion Isn't needed Tell him to go Pick up range baskets Do your job You **** I don't pay for ***** 20 years I've been coming To that range And I'll hit ***** Where I please I don't care how Long you Have worked there I can hate more than you I'm going hit Right along the edge Every time I go there Next time you bother me I'm going to tell you To **** off And go drive that picker I'm in a bad mood I'm poor, I'm ugly Heard some guy Talking about "Gotta work hard" Blah Blah There is no future In this country The globalists Who run this country Consider you A useless eater Worthless miserable country All these stupid Americans And their cars And their posessions And I know I made A big deal Out of nothing But I want to be left Alone And I don't need Some old guy Bothering me At the golf course! That's my time My relaxing time You go away Didn't even say please I wasn't doing it intentionally And why should it matter? I was a little bit in front of the markers Ahhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just makes me want to scream Some people ****
0
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 10:51 PM UTC
Ranting
I was at the range Guy working there Walks up to me "Stay between the markers" Says "second time" to himself I didn't realize I was hitting A bit in front of these markers That designate where you Should hit ***** And he came over to me Just to bother me To be a **** And that range is A dump The turf is decent But they overcharge you For old and ****** ***** Next time I'll go right to The edge Right along Next to the front Of the markers That way if That rude old man Comes over I'll tell him I'm inside the markers And his opinion Isn't needed Tell him to go Pick up range baskets Do your job You **** I don't pay for ***** 20 years I've been coming To that range And I'll hit ***** Where I please I don't care how Long you Have worked there I can hate more than you I'm going hit Right along the edge Every time I go there Next time you bother me I'm going to tell you To **** off And go drive that picker I'm in a bad mood I'm poor, I'm ugly Heard some guy Talking about "Gotta work hard" Blah Blah There is no future In this country The globalists Who run this country Consider you A useless eater Worthless miserable country All these stupid Americans And their cars And their posessions And I know I made A big deal Out of nothing But I want to be left Alone And I don't need Some old guy Bothering me At the golf course! That's my time My relaxing time You go away Didn't even say please I wasn't doing it intentionally And why should it matter? I was a little bit in front of the markers Ahhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just makes me want to scream Some people ****
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86
can you love me for what i am, with all my complexity and indecision with all my faults and speckles, my near-sighted imprecision could you not put me on the social stratum, looking through the lens of meritocricy not to count my posessions and achievements, level me with bittersweet verbosity can you spare me of doubt, that clouds your relative judgement see with all my ugliness and ridicule love as days go by as joy subside as colors turn bleak and darkness arise. can you accept my immature writing, filled with ill-arranged words or the way i talk through stutter and occasional sighs. forgive my incapacity for kindness, awkward attempts to win your heart.
0
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 1:14 PM UTC
Simple love