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Cecil Miller Apr 2018
I've been around long enough to know
That a good man's word ain't as good as gold,
No matter what he says;
But there are exceptions.
I'm not one.

Well I've been waiting for while on a comeback line,
Avoiding the sting of a bottle of rye.
Come on,
Whatd'ya say?
Let's put the blues away.

Cause when your out of heart,
You need some hope to start
To learn to love again.
You need someone to step out on faith,
No matter what you've done;
To be given a chance
To live at last.

The wide, wild sky will be open to possiblity
When the time is right,
And you let it be.
You've got trust
To be trusted again.
You can't grip your heartache tight
Like a pillow in the night,
If you want to feel the sun.

This is the age of forgiveness,
And to be a fool,
To take a chance,
And for love, too.

This is is the age of angels.
You can see them comimg
From out of the sky
To chase the loneliness
Back into the shadows.

This is the age of internal light,
Not to play it cool,
To take some risks
With your heart, too.

I've been around a block or a few,
And I've learned of little things that a man can do
To get out of himself.
Some maybe perfect,
But I'm not one.

I've been thinking bout getting on time,
Getting in step with the pretty eyes,
Come on,
Whatd'ya say,
And you can have your way.

I surrender to you tonight,
I give myself to your loving light.
I'm yours to love again.
I need you to take a leap of faith
No matter what we've gone.
Let's give ourselves a chance
To live at last.

The wide, wild sky will be open to possiblity
When the time is right,
And you let us be.
You've got trust
To be trusted again.
You can't grip your heartache tight
Like a pillow in the night,
If you want to feel the sun.

This is the age of forgiveness,
And to be a fool,
To take a chance,
And for love, too.

This is is the age of angels.
You can see them comimg
From out of the sky
To chase the loneliness
Back into the shadows.

This is the age of internal light,
Not to play it cool,
To take some risks
With your heart, too.

Can't you see the future now?
I can.
I can see the meadow beyond this fence
That I built on mistakes,
And we went wrong ever since.
But that was then,
And this is now.
Love is how.

The wide, wild sky will be open to possiblity
When the time is right,
And you let love be.
You've got trust
To be trusted again.
You can't grip your heartache tight
Like your pillow in the night,
If you want to feel the sun.

This is the age of forgiveness,
And to be a fool,
To take a chance,
And for love, too.

This is is the age of angels.
You can see them comimg
From out of the sky
To chase the loneliness
Back into the shadows.

This is the age of internal light,
Not to play it cool,
To take some risks
With your heart, too.
Writen in two sessions last night and this morning, this was meant to be a country song, but the construct is so liberal it could accomodate any musical facility.
empty seas Aug 2018
i used to have an easy time
enjoying myself
laughs came easy
smiles even easier
even being around these people made me happy

but something has changed
my heart has moved places
and my stomach refuses to consider the possibility that I’m safe
every word, every breath feels forced
out of an unchanging smile

i guess im just waiting
but i don’t know what for
for when ill finally have a day in which the possiblity of sleeping forever doesn’t feel appealing?
for when ill finally love myself?
maybe im just waiting for the sun to set
so we can finally start the bonfire
and the burning of my skin
will make me feel something
everything feels so numb and strange
i think it would’ve been better if i never woke up from that nap we took together
Jeremy Betts Feb 2018
If I've fallen asleep, if indeed this is a dream, I beg you not to wake me
Leave me, don't hastily take from me this flurry of happy energy
Finally in a state I honestly never thought I'd get back to fully, at least not naturally
I've found the pieces to complete me and managed to pull it all together neatly
I thank a different God weakly, genuinely grateful to be able to say that and mean it deeply
Listen man, it wasn't easy for me
I was afraid the iron mask I wore would have left me a scared form
A deformed, grotesque ground up mess like I've been starring directly into an acid rain storm
The type you don't typically walk away from or come out same person
And I did indeed emerge through the swarm of locus a transformed man but barely human
It changed me but not for the worse like I had thought it would at first
But see, I thought I was cursed cause everything I touched became immersed
In a darkness that could not be reversed, through the shadows of the valley of death I've traversed
Coerced into wandering for years in the desert, dying of thirst
Accepted that a torchered existence was my life, a complete absence of any positive essence
No instant answers to the many questions, just a silence that tests my patience
But in this instance I've been awarded for my persistence, praised for my due diligence
Regardless the distance I've had to crawl, the depth I've had to fall, tears and all, no elegance
But I've finally made it y'all, it's 2:05, I've made it past last call
The rolling snow ball that gained speed and size and chased me like Indi has crumbled at the base of the wall
The one I built and armed to the hilt, no small feat but worth it all
And now, come night fall when I lay my head down to sleep I'm no longer greeted by the frightful
The eclipse is over, a new light emerges along with a wind to take with it the ashes
Those of my former self because I'm past this, left my baggage at baggage claim when I got off the plane at my new domain and ignore it like I'm ignorant to it as it passes.
Instead of the past consuming my minds eye I now get flashes
Of the future, it must be a new feature that came with the new glasses
I'm not one of those hyped up bad ***** but with a life like survival classes
And having endured a million lessons plus physical therapy sessions to rid me of the cast and crutches
I'm almost ready to move mountains or part seas like Moses, self worth raising like taxes
Watching intently as the person in the mirror changes right in front me to a new surface, a fresh canvas
Inside it's the same rerun, battling the fact that I'm not comfortable with change for any reason, not in the slightest
Anxious about the possiblity that it crashes around me rendering me a carcass post crisis
Then it's back to square one, stripped of my a dignity like a tree barkless
But unlike a tree, I am not heartless, an emotional mess? Yes, but regardless
I've been blessed with a little boy so I need to employee better aim and better targets
Can't spar with the darkness, the gloves are off, time to end this circus

©2018
katewinslet Nov 2015
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Robyn Jan 2013
My back hunches
Like a stuffed bookcase in a corner
Too full
My back laden with possibility
I find myself lost in a maze
Of what should be tranquility
Except you lurk there
Your eyes filled with miserable possibility
I've watched your pale fingers
Turn into twiggy claws
And your green eyes
The ones that look like the sea
Turn cracked and dark
Under the light of the grey sun
She clutches your shoulder
Cackling at how I search
For an exit
And exit from this maze
A maze of possibility
Her stature slouched and heavy
Her hands cold and grey
Stroke your thick hair
And I see the disgust in your eyes
And taste it on the air
I struggle through
Getting closer to you
Trapped in a maze of
Possiblity
b e mccomb Aug 2016
lipstick stains on
paper coffee cup lids
my brother always
told me i would have
to sit back and watch people
younger and more
inexperienced than i
succeed while i suffered.

oh but i
think he
was wrong
three conversations
and one free cup
of coffee later
things are starting
to look up for me

and i'm thinking that
i am the younger
one succeeding while
elders suffer.

(on the flipside i
don't want to be
making sandwiches
for the rest of my life)


and i wonder sometimes
if i'm just naturally
gifted or if i just naturally
try too hard to be liked

(or there's an offchance
a slim blueish sliver of
possibility that the stars
have all been lined up for me)


anyway that assumption
however incorrect it may
be is better than
last week when i
was thinking that no longer
was i good enough

*(but scratch that
nothing i ever accomplish
or that the skies
have pre-established
will make me believe
i'm good enough.)
Copyright 8/10/16 by B. E. McComb
anastasiad Dec 2016
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Whilst the hottest generation ipad device are going to be 2.77 millimeters plumper as compared to the predecessor. While using size of the plumper, apple ipad 3 permits the accessibility to area for your greater solution computer screen know-how 'Retina', which includes before also been suited for your apple iphone 4g.

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The amazon online marketplace claims that Kindle Fire could have entry to A hundred thousands of movies and tv demonstrates, Seventeen zillion songs, Kindle reader ebooks along with countless magazines as well as papers. Individuals a Amazon . com Prime company can even have a cost-free internet streaming greater than Eleven 1000 shows and tv shows.

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Kelle Feb 2012
They say where ever your birthmark is located on your body
Is where you were stabbed, shot, hung or whatever other means
Of death are plausible in your past life.

I have come to the conclusion
That I am not human.
I do not have a birthmark anywhere on my body
A patch of pigmented skin different from the rest
This is both englightening and very very very dissapointing

This means there was never a low blow to my calf, a karate chop at my neck, a gunshot to my ankle
Nothing to symbolize that I once maybe had another life.

A life where I was the cracks in the sidwalk
or the wind gently stirring up chaos on days when I just **** felt like being noticed
or maybe i lived out my seven year old dreams of becoming the sixth member of the Spice Girls
or even an NSYNC groupie

I will never know.
I never emerged from my mothers womb
With a scar baring my worth

I was never blessed with a kiss from an angel
As other mothers told their children

I was never born with a birthmark,
and while this is perfectly natural.
I am very dissapointed, beacause maybe I was never given a chance.

Maybe I was crushed before I entered the world
A womb filled with disgust and hatred

Maybe I preferred to stay as the cracks in the concrete or the wind
Because I'd rather deal with the simple casualities of life rather than the mess humans tend to create

Maybe I was never given a second chance because
I never made something of myself here first.

Or just maybe there is a possiblity that I'm immortal
and if that's the case.
You are all invited to my 106th birthday party.
Lee May 2018
It's not possible to give what you have,
It's not possible to say what you want,
It's not possible to feel and to be felt completely,
It's not possible to love someone the way you wish,
It's not possible to touch someone the way you imagine,
It's not possible to write what you truly felt,
It's not possible sometimes to be who you really are,
We are ever changing, ever exposing, ever defining, wandering souls.
It's all about possibilities sometimes.
Hanna Kelley Feb 2018
Penises make me uncomfortable because they have only been used against me. Uncomfortable is not a strong enough word to explain the disgust that rises up my throat, the sickening feeling that tears at my stomach and lungs, the feeling of having to retract all of my limbs into my body, or at least as close as physically possible.

I can not stand the thought of having *** with a male, but does that make me a lesbian? Or does that just mean I am terrified of the possiblity of experiencing PTSD? If I think these flashbacks are bad enough, I don't want to experience anything more.

I only date guys that resembles the man that hurt me first.

When I am in a perfect relationship, I ruin it on purpose because I am scared of commitment.

I crave the things that hurt me, like razor blades, and chemicals that fill my lungs and poison my liver. Like a firm hand, a hot flame, a brick wall; I even crave the sounds of warning that my body gives when it is slowly dieing. The white lights, ears ringing, the light headed feeling when I stand up. I crave the black circles under my eyes, the transparency of my skin, the feeling of bones. I crave the blood pumping through my veins going 70 on a road with my eyes closed. I crave self destruction.
I've always known what I wanted.
I felt like I had everything mapped out
and the only thing that could go wrong was that I wouldn't have enough time.
Well, time started to pass and the plan started to fade.

It would be erased and
a new idea came to mind,
only to be replaced
later in time by another.
Each one seeming
more surer than the last.

They all were never
as permanent as I hoped.
Only becoming temporary
because I couldn't make up my mind
and decide.
Time went by still
and even the thought
of the future began to fade.

It faded fast,
just like the others.

But it wasn't replaced.

The form of the "future" was taken over by emptiness
and unable to react,
I began accepting that there
was nothing for me anymore.

I couldn't find something
to be interested in.

I was lacking a muse,
motivation,
inspiration.

I shut everyone out;
afraid of losing the
people I was close to.

It became a struggle to
make it through a day.

It was harder to find
a reason to get out
of bed in the morning.

It felt like the emptiness
had come and consumed
what I had left,
if I had anything left at all.

There was no freedom,
a prisoner to my own problems.

The possiblity to end it all
hung over my head;
but I never took it,
frightened to be called weak,
afraid.

Society had made me an outcast,
getting comfort when I could
and simultaneously learning to
not rely on others.
Only I could be my own best friend.

Misunderstood
and perceived as happy,
I carried on the charade,
the reason unknown.

I couldn't be taken seriously
as I was always known
for being so carefree
and happy.

That fun-loving girl
was torn apart inside,
but she faked a smile,
lying to herself and
everyone else by pretending
it was okay.

This went on and yet
no inspiration for the future
could be found.
The time yet to come
was still a vast space of
jumbled dreams with no way
to unscramble them.
Annatman Oct 2022
Comforting possiblity
That, still, you suddenly recall
The ultimate futility
Of doing anything at all
The best possible outcome
shåi Apr 2015
my heart
feels like a
dozen of slashed
black roses

i woke up
in such a
twisted fantasy
with the slightest
possiblity that you didn't love
me the way used


i refuse to believe
that we were rotting
in the blood
of my dead corpse

i begin to write
the love letter
inked in the blood
of my love for you

i must hurry
before the screaming
sun arises
before im gone

i begin to stencil
a ****** love
for such a lying
heart that i have begun to hate

(b.d.s.)
Jeremy Betts Jan 20
Maybe this non dairy rocky road was already laid out for me like some kind of haphazardly tossed together destiny of unfathomable tragedy
Or maybe I was too afraid to look too closely or venture too far from safety
Didn't see the blame had shifted dramatically, mostly to me, but how wrong can one guy possibly be?
And yet still I will admit, there's a possiblity the mentality I harbor is mostly negativity manifesting this reckless trajectory
No way to know for sure cause the final copy sent to the publisher was never run by me
So maybe, just maybe, it's some combination of these three, and everything you don't see but what pushed the first domino is beyond me
Can't jog my memory, the good, the bad and the ugly all lost to ancient history, constantly looked over, over and over to the point of obscurity
There's no money so follow the calamity of the paper back story, it's short and gory
Densely packed and stacked with everything that would make someone uneasy
Only pain and shame, no glory, not even a hole, boxed in and been lonely for 40
My future is solely based on what I've done previously
Most might say, "uh, yeah, obviously" but it can get tricky
With a little creative liberty taken to push the limits of an already worn down psyche
Me, myself and I, a split personality or just a not so holy trinity?

©2024
Amanda Shelton Jan 2020
Upon the passing of time
I am slowly depleting
my cells vibrating gradually
expanding my existence beyond
my skin, mind and body.

I am like a star, burning
fuel as I collide with life
pushing farther into the vastness
of space, time and the infenant
continum of my existence.

My impacte is that like a
grazing cow, my imagination
chews upon reality spewing
knowledge from my philosophical
mind into the chasm of my unique
reality. It grows in the passage
of time.

As I struggle in my profound
rose bed, plotting my seasonal growth.
The poet in me arches forward
in an attempt to express itself.

With my poetic fingers crucified
for my style and format
I suffer for my artist and
I share the bruises
life has to offer me.

I am the Gothic muse
a shadow rose, I leave behind
a poetic perfume, with notes
of passion and the slow weathering
petals of my budding expressions.

Like a caged bird I’ve
flown the coop breaking free
from my caged mind.

I traveled the world of
my imagination may times
before, and upon my dreams
I’ve awoken to the possiblity
of a broken ideology
of the worlds sinful nature.

Its cruel and callous in its
abused status of corruption
and its waning actions feeding
the masses with lies and deception.

These are sad times, indeed
but still the sun will rise
and the moon wanes and space
continues to grow making room
for new structures and the cycle
to go on until the end of time.

© 2020 By Amanda Shelton
such-a-deep-and-comely-thing
so-fleshless-moments-are-going
shari­ng-something-the-silence
and-the-quick-quiverings-of-flutings
whe­n-nothing-becomes-the-heart
like-a-jungle-stripping-the-panache
o­f-the-viridian-softer-it-is-the-truth

of-the-navel’s-blue-pursui­t
in-the-caterwaul-of-bodies-to-a-spry
plaything-summon-a-laughte­r-blacker
than-ravens-in-the-thrall-of-the-beset-moon
and-the-hom­es-fat-always-with-such-tender-beatings
it-is-the-time-of-the-her­on
it-is-the-end-of-the-susurration
when-the-unswift-hands-of-all­oys
sojourn-and-still-something-a-dagger-in-the-mire
of-the-cloud­-that-egregiously-whispers
a-long-possiblity-of-dreams-and-their-­palpable-weight
(say-it-will-perhaps-contention-of-pulseless-awak­enings
   when-it-was-such-truthfulness-that-when-the-heart-sings
    the-mind-stirs-and-the-hands-dance-to-roundtables-of-mirth
     twitching-such-belittled-locomotions-when-it-was-fashionable
     to-have-adorned-you-the-love-and-not-firm-obstreperous-meandering­s)
Saudade Saudade Jul 2014
You'll never know how cool I am, when I'm around you I just lose my cool.

But if you decide you decide to hold my hand, I swear I'd be warm enough for you.

As cold as hearts can sometimes be, it finds a flame, only after it's found your name.

As cold as my once stumbling feet, always steadly stumbling, fumbling your way.

Tip-toe, one. two. One. In front of. The other. tip. Toe. Tip.

This dance often repeated when I feel I've lost my grip.

Tip-toe, one. Two. One. In front of. The other. Tip. toe. tip.

You watch me advance, cocked brow and lip.

Crawling back to you.

Always crawling back to you.

Always never ever feeling right until I write to you.

And every night I write to you;
In my head, lying awake in bed;
with keyboards or with lead;
with songs birthed from dread--
singing "our love is dead."

And You'll never know how cool I am, cause around you I just lose my cool.

So I settle for a copy, for a hobby, for a tool.

As cold as hearts can sometimes be, it would thaw at a possiblity of you and me.

As cold as my once stumbling feet, still steadly stumbling, fumbling your way.

Tip-toe, one. two. One. In front of. The other. Tip. Toe. Tip.

I don't fear your rejection, in your eyes I've already quit.

Tip toe, one. Two. One. In front of. The other. Tip. toe. tip.

Inching as close as I can get, Hoping you still hear your name on my lips.

knowing the first thing you might say is , "Ain't this some ****."

"You come and go as you please, you do?"

"Assuming that I'll always be here for you."

But you /were/ always there
And I think that's hella cool.
That'd you could be so warm,
To such an uncool fool.
NuurSeraph May 2014
What kind of Sin dares Usher in
A devious man to lick his lips, gutteral gasping beneath his Breath
The Wonton Musing oozes a delicious Decay,
The Poured Out drooling, his Power Pulsing, A Foaming Fantasy Power Tripping
~to Control the Spiritual World
at his Will & Command?

Here's what he imagined:
Biblical Bribery.
Blasphemous Forgery
Who ever has the money or an Unbridled hand can piecemeal a Story for premeditated Zeal,
To make for a more attractive Appeal
Why need such profiled Idoltry?

To be Present
at the Moment of such a Powerful Man's Revelation, Spoken for and too You
To be blessed
with ears to hear Him
To worship
At the Alter of Salt
A pillar miraculous,
To Worship Within, in Him, beside Him.
A Scribe Sweats
To write furiously away
for later reference, Thus
Attention is spared and the Sermon Deemed for Organic Lackluster
"Scratch That
Oops
Edit
Kindly Repeat
Didn't quite catch That
Delete
Revise
Rephrase
Two or One spaced per Sheet?
The strain hurts my Eyes
When can We Break for Feast?
Are We Done for the Day?"


Can this be a possiblity
Can a misdirected, Unsupervised
Scrupulous Individual
Not quietly Misquote
The Word trianguled from Mouth to Pen to Paper?
The Words We have come to Believe In??
You Tell Me.....
please be advised this is not an attack or judgment or wish for a debate this my friends is simple poetry
chimaera May 2016
skipping a heart beat
seemingly you,
there, in the crowd


the lightness
of a possiblity
to live,
to hold on


watching kids,
their eyes
tying of shoe laces.
reading the first word ever.
trusting a friendly hand.


dreaming,
of home,
everybody’s there
coloured motion,
disclosing bygones
in now lands


not to cry
when realising
the ephemeral
unreality of hoping


06.05.2016
A prompt from @writerswrite
Leah Anne Oct 2015
I keep yearning for your words like an incurable addiction.
I am frightened I am slowly getting used to living under your shadow
And soon it will be difficult for me to step out to the sun when it is time for you to leave.
Yet still, amidst this drifting thoughts heading towards your world,
Fighting storms and sea monsters
Deprived of armor and unsheltered,
Offering my pride as a bait to be ravished by unexpected vultures,
Hear I am,
Letting myself drown in this miraculous possiblity that you would give me more.
...
September 18, 2015. 4am
Akira Chinen Apr 2015
We can stand in front of a mirror and stare at our own faces, examining our teeth, our smile, our tears, and the endless reflection of our own souls gazing back at us from behind our eyes and question and ponder and weigh ourselves down with questions of self worth and over burden ourselves with self loathing and stare even deeper as we realize how small our bodies are compared to a tree or our houses or the buildings we work in and then we can  compare how small all those things are compared to the size of the earth and continue down this road as we look towards how massive our sun is to the earth but how even the sun is just a spec of dust in the vast cosmos and then wonder why are we here and what is it all worth and what does it all mean and for a moment maybe we're overwhelmed and nothing makes sense and it all seems meaningless.  I've been there, standing in front of that mirror, with tears running down my face and my self worth lying and rolling in the gutter with all my self loathing and I've stood there scared and depressed and everything else that is miserable.  And I've walked away from that mirror, either out of anger or fear or when I was all out of self pity sometimes I walked away out of hope.
Life at its very worst always has the potential to get even more horribly so, there is no  bottom when things are going from bad to worse... But it always has the potential to get better too.  We may seem small and insignificant when we compare our bodies to the vast cosmos that surronds us, but the love that lives within us is its own endless universe, quite possibly even bigger than all the space that surronds us.
Its not as easy to find and sometimes maybe we feel like this internal universe has kicked us out or won't let us in or for the truly unfortunate maybe they just haven't found the door, maybe they haven't gone mad yet and maybe they never will... but that's another heart breaking story for someone else to tell.
If you're one of the fortunate ones you've already found the door and walked through it,  if you were really lucky you fell through it or came crashing through it.   You know its a beautiful place, you know its a dangerous place, you know its easier getting here than staying here.  The life line of our bodies is finite and we never know how long or short it will be.  Love however has the power and possiblity and vulnerablity to be infinite.   We don't always (or perhaps ever) get to choose how or when or why we come tumbling through that doorway.  Sometimes we're idiots and we find ourselfs here and we either hide hoping to go unseen or even worse we try to get out,  we walk back out the door willingly.  And sometimes we get lost and the door can't be found and were stuck here...
Just like standing in front of the mirror, I've been through this door a few times, sometimes scared, sometimes hopeful, and when I've been really lucky I've been stuck.
I'm lost here now and I want to stay and I think at least some small piece of my heart must have been left behind and buried under some floor boards years and years ago because somehow its all familiar and my heart feels like its found its home
Elijah Master Jul 2014
Sometimes when you win you loose,
so hold on to all your *****
to sedate the hate
you've grown too tired to iterate

and as you hit the snooze to suppress the state of alarm within you
remember...

where've you been
what has hurt  and
what has elevated you to love and light beyond mundane normality


there is pleasure in pain
and pain in pleasure

sanity in insaneness

it's all just a dream,


only the mind sees in black and white
open your eyes to colors of possiblity
and feel the depth of senses completely  immersed in the experience of life...

for the way i see it,
there is not greater tragedy to reach the end of life without tasting the ecstasy of life itself ,
to die in a trapped mind, running on outdated information is the very
predicament know as the human condition
Corina Helm Mar 2013
For them
the fear of it
of the possiblity of it
increased their fear.

Their fear became their
reality.
They lived what
no person could imagine
Their lives wre held
none so delicatly
In the hands of
Death.

Some lived through
reality
while others were
crushed into ash
by the hands of
Death.

Fear was reality

Reality was held in the hands of Death
Akira Chinen Feb 2016
I wish I had the courage
When I last stood
In front of you
To tell you
And if I only could
Stand in front of you
One more time
On more moment
I would tell you
Not for your love
In return or to feel
This love that has burned
And consumed and haunted me
Both night and day
In dreams and fantasy
Pass from my lips to yours
Not to ****** your flesh
And remove your clothes
Rain my fingertips over your skin
Not to hear you whisper and moan
And shout under sheets
Not to claim your soul
Or your name
In that moment...
No
I want that moment
To reveal that this love
Smiles madly and lives completely
Feels impossibly and dances wildly
Lasts eternaly for the beauty
And perfection of the stars
And heavens and endless bliss
It finds in you
And against time and distance
And possiblity it will always stand
And burn with its hand outstreched
Should you want or desire
Or need
Or not
It will live and love
Alone or together
It exists only by the chance
And the luck of that
First moment when my
Heart knew it had always
Loved you
Colm Feb 2019
I'd forgotten how big the sky was
How full of possiblity was a life filled with flight
Yes, Majora's
When that moon was hanging over me in such a way
It made it impossible to see the night from day
And to separate the time from the potential life
Be it without a countdown or accursed limit
But of a life outside of the dream far away
Beyond The Impending Moon of Doom (Majora's)
Max Feb 2019
A drunken angel,

She, the one seeing the possiblity in every risk.
:)
Shelby Murray Dec 2013
I wished up the fragments from our last time together and cut them up to piece them together again.
                       I used those fabricated pieces and created a new possiblity, a new oppurtunity. I saw it so clearly.

Suddenly,

                                        A bolt, a pang of
Foreign emotions
      
                                    Plunged and sifted,
Tore through my heart

Replaceing every sweet thing I thought with doubt and anxiety. I felt the constant squeeze. It became too much.
                       I said no. I turned down every solution and answer. I left you alone. Without an explanation.

I don't know
                                        What else to say.
Except
                
                                       that now I wish I
Could change
                                    
                                     so this night could

have happened.
Erica DeAngelo Aug 2017
You are precious.
You are beauty,
in the purest form.
Your heart skips no beat,
for a ballerina is rhythm.
She holds a head high,
and maybe it is all she has left,
because it is not her own.
You mustn't save them.
You mustn't save her.
For the possiblity,
in all the cruelty and confusion,
you are only able to keep youreself..
from slipping away.
One hand gripped.
Five fingers.
Four.
Three.
Two.
Shot down to one.
And you have vanished.
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2017
becoming bored of the: what came first, the chicken or the egg? i had to ask a similar question: what came first, the letter δ, or the digit 6?

the only reason why philosophy books
take so much time to read,
is because,
of all literary traditions,
               philosophy books extoll
a need to allow re-reading,
  and no, not a re-reading of the omni-
reading: the sigma / the entire
work -
              but passages of a work -
philosophy books take such a long time
to read, because one is forced to
reread certain passages several times,
if not the nadir-minimum of at least
twice....

notably? perhaps one of many examples
(and i was serious that
heidegger's being & time
  and kant's critique of pure reason
are, reasonably, worth 2 years of your
life to read through, and several
other non-philosophical books
in between...
      yes, poetry is a grand aid when
reading philosophy -
   notably due to his "
agoraphilia",
and its love for sparing the eyes
from straining themselves in
the fudge of tight-knit paragraphs):
that said: the elders should read
either newspapers or poetry,
while the young, with their hawk-eyes
the deluge of claustrophilic
sentencing...
          funny... we hear more of phobias
than of philias...
    last time i checked, our society
entombed only one philia,
among many phobias...
        you know the philia, it begins with
the letter p-;
           odd, isn't it?
                         to fathom a rainbow range
of possible phobias,
     and disrespect a possiblity for
what's devolved in etymological terms
    from greek, i.e.?
  how philias are understood in english:
quirks... eccentricities.
england and its people is a nation
of eccentricities, any russian can tell you
that... you don't even have to cite
     the neo-tsar of the current year;
a less pleasant ascriptive-noun /
       denoting? a, bunch of ******* weirdos!
(yes, the comma implies a quick cascade
of utterance - like ******* a
                            shoelace of spaghetti).
the example though,
   rereading aphorism no. 93 (ponderings V) -
what does reconstitute man
     as *animal rationale
rather than
firmly establishing him as **** sapiens?
well... for a **** sapiens
there must be a deus insapiens -
                   for a wise man, a mad god;
but beyond the notion of god...
would it not be easier, as aphorism 93
suggests invoke a trinity of concepts?
  no "wise" man discredits god,
  whether in idea, or whether in existence,
or when in idea in non-existence -
    because isn't that what atheists provoke?
namely that god "is": in idea in non-existence,
existence per se, cannot be an idea,
since in invokes the 5 senses
      rather than the 1 non-sense (thought),
simply, i can't grasp existence as an idea,
but i can grasp the existence of x
as an idea, since the mechanics of "an" idea
is to treat it as non-existent, and therefore
requiring me to think about it:
and since nature doesn't allow vacuums -
what could possibly fill the nature of
man, if not the ontological construct of
the existing-"non"-existent god?
    what? some hot chocolate and a cookie jar?!
that's beside the point...
     reducing man from the status
of **** sapiens into a state of
     animal rationale opens our demand
for the original status "quo",
that man work from the foundation of
qua categorised animal rationale
and moving to the status of **** sapiens,
which, by so doing, avoids
the burden of presupposing oneself
as **** sapiens, and "re-inventing"
the wheel, and crafting the posit for
                                        a deus insapiens.
the aphorism does suggest that we
are breeding an animal,
                      an animal of genes,
              rather than a human of memes,
for "man" to attain the status
   of **** sapiens from the origin
of animal rationale - is to also claim that
the current claim of "man" as
     **** sapiens reduces a "god" to
be categorised as deus insapiens
  (as stressed by the emotionally infantile
pressure: ******* built a pyramids!
   oh... so looking at a mountain from
a distance wasn't good enough?) -
but categorising "man" as striving for
the status of **** sapiens from the origins
of the already well versed
                    atheistic demand
  for the animal in man, rather than
the man in the animal...
             who could not be persuaded
to allow the striving of a "god"
              from the confines
  of animal rationale ut deus insapiens
into the existential-"zoo"
            of **** sapiens ut
                                         deus sapiens
?
can that question even range into
  asking whether **** est deus
ut deus est man - and that this whole existence
has an omni-spaien dimension
  with a ?, given that the big bang was
not ? remark, but an ! -
    a question is hushed
into philosophy (murmur), while awe
and fancy and daring shouts! explodes!
David Bojay Nov 2018
to oversee

to "feel" neglect on some kind of truth

the one that makes you go crazy

whatever it is

it's beautiful with you

but i shook hands with an end i couldn't accept

on to the next i guess

i can't bare with the unknown regarding you



another sip
to numb my lips




imagining the possiblity of us

desiring trust from myself

can't dwell in the hell i've created for my health

living to overcome the previous days

a transit to a better tomorrow

a mentality to try and follow

for no reason but satisfation with ones self

why would i ever want to satisfy my "SELF"?

"i" shouldn't need you, this longing is at war with my being
Vinnie Brown Dec 2017
What do you say
To the girl you love
When "I love you" just doesn't seem like enough?
Do you jump to the skies and the mountains above
To the welling waters and the oceans embrace
How the never ending sea kisses the sands in wavy embraces
Old myths of four armed and legged beasts
Powerful enough to tear the world asunder
Split into two's, for the gods feared their power?
I heard stories of them from long ago
Given a mighty name: Soulmates
Perhaps, you recite bible verses of love, forgiveness, and sins
What if we jump to the unconditional loves?
Oh, maybe you recite poetic lines of Romeo and Juliet
Imagine disabilities of Traynor and Clark
When the words Me Before You became the norm
Tell her you'll have infinities in moments
Like The Fault In Our Stars
Maybe, you tell her everyday without her
You're just another lost soul


There's always the possiblity
I have this all wrong
That the most I can say is in the silence between us
In fragile moments
When our lips interlock
And, the sun catches her eyes in a flavor of a minute
Or, the times she's smiling to herself lost in the line of a book
In the moment where she takes the first bite of icecream
After a day that left both of your feet sore
It's really hard and even a little soul tearing
That I cannot seem to find an accurate description in words
Of how I truly feel, because it all is not enough

So, I will just say this
I will be at my 10
Until the sun burns out
Or the Sea's tide overcomes us
When California becomes The Bay of Arizona
And Yellowstone has finally had it's time with us
For, I am in love
Maybe, it's just as simple as that
Annie, I'm not sure my words will ever be enough, but I suppose you'll be the judge of that.
70 Percent Feb 2018
Poem poe  po p pa pat patter pat pa pa pi pie pit part plead please porous potental possiblity probably plead plea ple pl po poe poem
asdasdasdasdasasdasd
Michael Perry Feb 2020
TO STAND HERE

to stand here looking down-from this height
one feels invicible with a feeling that comes over
of god- like;  to realize what it took to create life
from the seas, to the sky, the bird, the fish, the tree, each
blade of grass to the flower, the bee, the moth- snow and rain
the sun and the moon; all of life-laid out before me until
I realize I am but a mere mortal- made human; being unable
to comprehend; all the majesty of that;  which is impossible
made real, the possiblity-of a little faith-to answer the unanswerable

by Michael Perry
Jerry Howarth Nov 2021
Text: Act 2:1-21; Isa. 28:11
Intro: Speaking in tongues was a special gift given to  special men, for a special purpose for a special people for a special period of time.

Now read 2:1-12; Isa.28:11 The first truth I want you to know, is that the tongues in Acts 2, was an actual human language, not some heavnly language.

The day of Pentecost of the apostles preaching the Gospel in a gentile language, of which they had never learned, was prophesied by the prophet, Joel and Isa.

Note in the Isa.28 passage,vs.11 that the Apostles would speak win a stammering lips and another tongue i.e. another language, the Gentile language.

A. Stammering lips , compared to the Jewish lanuage which is an
     easy flowing language, the Gentile language is staccato sounding
     language, or as this Scripture renders it "stammering" sounding.
B. So Scripure has established that the original speaking in tongues
     was a specific human language, given to special men - the 12
    Apostles.
       ....and note also,  these men had not been striken in the spirit or
       had someone lay hands on them and utter heavenly words over
      them, and declare  they had just been baptized in the Holy
     Ghost.
     ans declare he or she jad just been baptized in thr Holy Ghost.
C. Next take note, that this  speaking in a language  which they had never peviously learned, was for a special purpose -the proclaiming the wonderful works ofGod -Acts 2:11 and God's plans for the future Acts 2:17-20., and the most important purpose , V.21 to proclaim God's salvation - "Whosoever shall call upon the Name of the Lord, shall be saved."

Now I want to pull over to the side of the road, and park for awhile and talk to you,  who-so-ever-you are  who  thinks you have talked in tongues - have you ever used that gift to proclaim the Word of God, the Word of salvation? Of course  you haven't; because as I Corth. 14:9 says "Except you utter by tongue (a language) words to understand, how shall it be known what is spoken? For you shall speak in the air."
                               Personl Illustraion
At one time I worked among sme Mexican men who did not speak or uderstand the English language. I and a particuler Mexican man and I became friends. I invited him to church,which he refused, Why? As he said, I could not understand laguage or the music.

I'm saying very bluntly to anyone reading this who thinks you have a special gift of speakig in tongues,  except you speak in a language they understand, proclaiming the wonderful works and wonderful work of God, you are fooling yourself or have been fooled by someone else that you have the gift of speaking in tongues.

"But Preacher, I know I was speaking in a heavenly language because I had no control over my tongue."

"I understand that, and will address it in a few minutes."
But right now I want to review what we have leaned thus far.
1. Speaking in tongues is an earthly known language, not
    some heavenlylanguage.
2. Speaking in a unleaned language was specia gift of the Holy Spirit
    given to some special men for a special purpose.
3. That purppse was to proclaim the Word of salvation to some
   special people the Israelites, IOW the Jewish people.
a.Isa. 28: 11,12 says "Yet thet would not hear" so now go to the New
   Testament I Cor. 14:21 which subsatuates Isa,  28: 11-12,In the law
   it is written,  with men of other tongues (languages) other lips,  
  will   I speak to this people, and yet for all that they will not hear
  me, saith the Lord" I Cor. 14:22 says "Tongues are for a SIGN, not to
  them that believe but to them that believe not." and John 1:11 tells
  us who the unbelievers are "Jesus came unto His own but His own
  recieved Him not"

Now I'm going to address those who say "I know I'm speaking in tongues, because I have no control over my tongue,
You are not going to like me for what I am going to say, but you really need to hear it.
Look at Acts 16:16-18 and pay attention to details. This girl had no control over her following Paul around and actually was sayimg some things we today, might have easiy been drawn in to her, "These men are the servants of the most high God which show us the way of salvation."

But Paul recognized her for what she was, a demon possessed
person, and even though she was saying some wonderful things, Paul said,"I command you in the name of Jesus Christ, come out of her" and she came out the same hour.

OK< now what I am about to tell you, if this young girl  had no control over her tongue, just as this damsel had no control over her tongue, is it possible you are being controlled by an evil spiirit. If you have no idea of what you  are saying, has it ever entered your mind that a satanic spirit is cursing Jesus, using your tongue to do so

Remember, tongues are a known human language, and you have no idea wht you are saying, so its a very possiblity that an  evil spirit is speaking in some forign laguage through the use of your vocal chords,  Not to Praise Jesus, But curse Him.

Now I know there are several passages that have to do with speaking in tongues,(An unlearned language), but keep in mind that tongues was a SIGN FOR THE JEWISH PEOPLE and in every pasage where tongues were spoken, they were always  speakin in a Gentile language that the Jewish people had lerned, and always the were proclaiming the Gospel to a, or, some Jews.

In closing, I am going to show you from Scripture, that the gift of tonges was for a SPECIAL PEOPLE for a SPECIAL PERIOD OF TIME and that time has long ago passed on, SO speaking in tongues
is not for today ICor. 13:8 "...whether there be tongues, they shall cease."

When did they cease? Look at 13:10  "When that which is perfect (complete) is come, then that which is in part (incomplete) shall be done away,"

"When "that" which is perfect is come" is not a reference to Jesus' return, as some have taught, Why? Because the word "that" is a neuter word, neither male nor female and so is talking about the completion of the Scriptures. Besides, Jesus is not a "that".

Ok, you may ask, "When was the completion of the Scrptures?" Look at the last word in Revelation. With the salutation of John's writings, came the end of many of the speaking gifts, such as the gift of tongues.

Today with the completion of thr verbal insp[iraion ofmScriptre, tongues are no longer needed; We hve God's last wrd to the world of humanity in writtn form. God has laid aside His daligs with Israel, so the SIGN of tonges is no longer needed for them; everyone gets the Gospel of God's Word the same way......through the written Wrd of God.
           From Jerry Howarth's Book of Sermons
ymou
ilo Mar 2019
The maiming possiblity of perfection
The mere thought:
Crippling at times
And picture perfect at others
• TrashGirlTrashGirlTrashGirlTrash...
• Model-to-be and **** so lovely
Rename me Oscar already

Sat on the dock of the bay
Or am I sitting

I had a rose once
Like Le Petit Prince
And like him
My rose, alas, so far gone

My needs grow slim
I only want
The Bear Necessities

The anaconda don't want none
Unless it's gripping your tongue
Can't speak
Can't feel
Not real?
Goodbye for now everyone, I hope you have a lovely spring! :)

— The End —