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"powerfully" poems
I can feel them on my skin. I feel their electricity, so powerfully pleasing, pulling me in. Every glance, makes my stomach dance. The longer it lingers, I ache for her fingers laced between mine. Because, it's only in those moments that things seem fine.
0
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 6:14 PM UTC
Her Eyes
He thwack no metronome to kick oneself Thwack his **** sucker With his monolithic flaccid trunk rubber Me and my Dalek doped And my excrement unsweetened Copulate in the open without my jockstrap You shat encrusted to what you deflowered So at arm’s length ****** from all that we excreted in the wind’s eye And I bounce a bedevilled backwash My incredibles are shafted I’ll **** **** to Arab We only jabbered hasta la vista amongst homophones I croaked a hundredweight arsonists You **** posterior to her And I **** **** to… I **** **** to myself I ****** you powerfully The body beautiful’s not enough to go round You enjoy spanking and I wallow in ********* And ***** is like a tobacco teabag And I’m a bijou **** coming the corsets in custody We only jabbered hasta la vista amongst homophones I croaked a hundredweight arsonists You **** posterior to her And I **** **** to… Arab, Arab, Arab, Arab, Arab, Arab, Arab I **** **** to… I **** **** to… We only jabbered hasta la vista amongst homophones I croaked a hundredweight arsonists You **** **** to her And I **** **** to Arab
0
Mar 26, 2010
Mar 26, 2010 at 4:34 PM UTC
**** To Arab
*towering gently overflowing with heightened awareness subtle hints of blade’s keen glittering chiseled edges untamed rugged surface powerfully averts gale’s acrid tempest vigor pulsating that doth persuade the cloud’s reflections if i shall not again embrace a meager glimpse; a demure echo of thine towering mounts my soul shall ever suffer my spirit soars with e'er one glance of thine majestic presence replete with reminiscence seasons stir and beg thine tender mercies to house the changing leaves at dusk of autumn’s auburn portraits and give birth to crystal snow cascading peripherally in winter which melding into spring then begs thy bluffs to cover in soft amethyst of columbine blossoming first light of summer ‘tis not paramount to scale high aloft thine peaks in escalation for small sheer glances stamp forever with imperial impressions and ‘tho i’ve traveled ‘round and savored nature’s varied essence none can compare thine evergreens laced in aspens nuance my breath is gone and shan’t return ‘til in thy shadow casting i stand and look upon thine hallowed face the rocky mountains ©2016 janetaylor
0
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 4:42 PM UTC
wildly homesick
As a bisexual, I fear Few will want you to be proud. They will bend your ear Saying things to you out loud That would be better left Totally, embarrassingly unsaid Instead of rattling around Inside the cathedral of your head. Too many try to make it Seem like a kind of venal crime To want to make love with Someone of your own kind And maybe with the same Gender with which you were born. To some it is very biblical And subjects you to public scorn. Finding someone **** With the same plumbing as you It not only delightful It can be a dream come true. It feels correctly natural And works like the other way Even though people scorn And use words like *** and ‘gay’ Or ****** and even taco Whatever that might end up meaning. The important thing to me Bisexuality is so powerfully appealing. So, those who dislike me And feel so righteously zealous That bisexuality is wrong Are very possibly just jealous. Or maybe just uptight Living by someone’s else’s rules; Not what they’ve learned And therefore are bigoted fools.
0
Feb 26, 2016
Feb 26, 2016 at 10:57 PM UTC
BISEXUAL BIGOTRY
Mania. Everything was good when you were with me. I felt normal. The chains bolted to my eyelids where magically gone, like the money in your bank account after a heavy, drunken, stupor & forthright gambling spree. The spear in my side that your twin brother, depression, threw inside me was no longer twisting up my insides. Thank you. This feels like a goodbye letter but I'm actually trying to hold on to you. You give me life. Your twin takes it away and he rash-burns my face in it. I was accomplishing all the things; skipping from one stone to the next without feat. "Flutter your wings and dance," is your motto. But like all good things, you drive me away, knowing that I'll see you again. Try as I might, I remain faithful to you, but you commit adultery every week. Sometimes you demand my time, even when I'm low. I cry for hours with your natural dichotomy, not because I can't decide--I can--but because you and your twin rip me apart in twain, changing my reality as sure as the rain falls in the Amazon. The demons call out to me, whispering evil into my mind. I believe every evil thing when I am not armed with your brilliance. I lose that perspective, every time, and sometimes immediately. Your twin brother and cousin visit me early in the morning right before bed time. If my doubts and fears are real, then my mind's eye is experiencing a real reality, and thus I am as I feel, like a plastic bag tumbling in the wind. Yet, everyone reminds me that I am but a joke and a comic, one which not even you can trust. The biggest asset I lose when you choose to cheat on me is your energy--that precious flow that bears my creative passion. But now I am barren, an unfit conduit that is incapable of maintaining that flow. The demon upon me powerfully weaves its tapestry of sludge that encases my mind. My mind, it's the only thing I have left. And yet, I can never trust it. You've lied to me before and you'll lie to me in the future. But for now, I'll have to make do with your half-truths. Until next time.
0
Jan 17, 2018
Jan 17, 2018 at 3:55 AM UTC
Mania
Mania. Everything was good when you were with me. I felt normal. The chains bolted to my eyelids where magically gone, like the money in your bank account after a heavy, drunken, stupor & forthright gambling spree. The spear in my side that your twin brother, depression, threw inside me was no longer twisting up my insides. Thank you. This feels like a goodbye letter but I'm actually trying to hold on to you. You give me life. Your twin takes it away and he rash-burns my face in it. I was accomplishing all the things; skipping from one stone to the next without feat. "Flutter your wings and dance," is your motto. But like all good things, you drive me away, knowing that I'll see you again. Try as I might, I remain faithful to you, but you commit adultery every week. Sometimes you demand my time, even when I'm low. I cry for hours with your natural dichotomy, not because I can't decide--I can--but because you and your twin rip me apart in twain, changing my reality as sure as the rain falls in the Amazon. The demons call out to me, whispering evil into my mind. I believe every evil thing when I am not armed with your brilliance. I lose that perspective, every time, and sometimes immediately. Your twin brother and cousin visit me early in the morning right before bed time. If my doubts and fears are real, then my mind's eye is experiencing a real reality, and thus I am as I feel, like a plastic bag tumbling in the wind. Yet, everyone reminds me that I am but a joke and a comic, one which not even you can trust. The biggest asset I lose when you choose to cheat on me is your energy--that precious flow that bears my creative passion. But now I am barren, an unfit conduit that is incapable of maintaining that flow. The demon upon me powerfully weaves its tapestry of sludge that encases my mind. My mind, it's the only thing I have left. And yet, I can never trust it. You've lied to me before and you'll lie to me in the future. But for now, I'll have to make do with your half-truths. Until next time.
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17
Keep your feet on the ground even though your friends flatter you. (Movies have pause, friends don’t.) Traveling this year will bring your life into greater perspective. (Actions speak nothing, without the motive.) People enjoy having you around. (Appreciate this.) Your emotional currents are flowing powerfully now. (Movies have pause, friends don’t.) Listen to yourself more often - you are thinking about doing something. Impossible standards just make life difficult. (Actions speak nothing, without the motive.) Don’t do it, it won’t help anything. May you have great luck. You are admired for your adventurous ways. (Everything has beauty but not everyone sees it.) Right now there is energy pushing you in a new direction. (Hard words break no bones, fine words butter no parsnips.) People in your background will be more co-operative than normal. You are the master of every situation. Listen to yourself more often. (When the moment comes, take the top one.)Your emotional currents are flowing powerfully now. (Everything has beauty but not everyone sees it.) Encourage your peers. (For hate is never conquered by hate.) You will be successful in your work. (Appreciate this.) Use your head, live in your heart. (Hate is conquered by love.) Don’t do anything, it won’t help you. When the moment comes take the top one. Soon life will become more interesting.
0
Mar 16, 2011
Mar 16, 2011 at 2:17 PM UTC
Fortune Cookie
Acceptance called out, evoking astonishing silence Ringing in a whispered new kiss Of velvety sensations murmuring sweet promises Such delicate pure visions of bliss Unforgettable missives powerfully pulsated within Profoundly affecting all feeling Shimmering on the edges of what has to be Treasured without any ceilings No confines, shorn of imaginary bounds to present Nestled in shining perfect peace Acceptance called out, evoking remarkable silence Ringing in a spectacular release When our eyes meet tenderly, with arms open wide No imaginary bounds or ceilings exist Just the velvety sensations murmuring promises In the sweetest taste of your kiss
0
Sep 15, 2010
Sep 15, 2010 at 6:26 PM UTC
Your Kiss
Born Robert Nesta Marley on February 6, 1945 In nine mile, St.Ann Emancipate yourself from mental slavery none But ourselves can free our mind I grew up on that prophetic message and philosophy And it never left my soul or mind You have left a legacy World renowned This dreadlocks man left his mark Permanently I believe you were before your time I was not yet born When you departured But your music was my friend I was built on your roots Something music lacks today Your words emanate so powerfully That builds faith and tear down injustice It inspire greatness I remember the man who chants words of ball of fire Hitting beyond anyone’s imagination Or comprehension of his God given talent He has touched hearts from Jamaica to America Europe to India to Africa all over His music is worldwide It’s like a life’s guide Whether ball head or Rasta man Bob Marley music lives on I have yet to see someone like him His legacy continues with his sons and daughters With every Jamaican His message was deep, spiritual and philosophical To the soul and mind. R.I.P The Great Reggae Legend. All Rights Reserved. Christena Antonia Valaire Williams Jamaica W.I
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Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 12:32 PM UTC
The Great Reggae Legend
My heart was found guilty Of witchcraft by my brain He dragged her and beat her Spewed his hatred for her Tied her to a wooden stake My brain couldn't comprehend The magic of my heart Why she never wavered How she always loved He started this persecution Because he couldn't understand I always felt her growing Beautifully and powerfully With every beat she won me over All I did was want to protect her But my brain called it heresy My punishment was to watch As he burned her alive I heard the shrieks of hope die The smell of her love stung My nostrils and it haunts me still I walk around pretending As if nothing had ever happened My brain condemned me to live This life without my heart Without the love and only With the memory of that night Every day I burn like she did As every day I hate like he did I was unable to convince him That she just wanted to love But my brain was too afraid Of the powers of my heart
0
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 12:10 PM UTC
The Witch, The Persecutor and The Heretic
We went to a play last week 
Actors strutted around
 Among a set of tall buildings 
Made of actual stone of grey 
And billowing smoke 
And noises 
And crowds. 
Upon the great stage they talked 
About their ancient ideas 
Like wars 
And politics 
And freedom. In one scene an actor yelled 
and swung a mighty hand 
and struck the other man! 
And though we knew 
It was really just acting 
The idea that one 
Could hit another 
Shocked all of us in the audience So powerfully 
And a few people even left 
The theatre 
In tears. But there were funny bits too 
In the play that night. 
A character said he had a car. 
His Own. 
Personal. 
Car! 
And together they were to drive 
Both of them 
Off to an aeroport. 
Like with all the steering, 
And foot pedals, 
And everything. And in a very sad part 
Someone treated someone else badly 
And called her names 
Because of the colour 
Of her skin 
And because she had come 
From somewhere else. 
And all our eyes were wet for a while. One man used a device 
Which was an ancient komputer. 
Two flat parts with a hinge 
And it opened upon his lap 
And one side glowed brightly 
To illuminate his face 
And he presses a bunch of button-keys 
To spell words and things 
Because that’s how they told the 
Komputer 
What to do. 
And we all laughed. when it was over a bunch of us asked the man that was hit if he was okay was he really okay it looked terrible and did they really have to do that awful thing in the play and was the other actor a bad man and he said no, it was alright and the other actor was a nice man and that it didn’t hurt at all and he said he was sorry that it scared us but it was the violence of the time and the people of that time and we said we kind of understood. And we all felt better 
But one lady 
Still needed to hug him. 
And his eyes 
Were a little wet too.
0
Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 6:12 PM UTC
Tales of Ancient Times
We went to a play last week 
Actors strutted around
 Among a set of tall buildings 
Made of actual stone of grey 
And billowing smoke 
And noises 
And crowds. 
Upon the great stage they talked 
About their ancient ideas 
Like wars 
And politics 
And freedom. In one scene an actor yelled 
and swung a mighty hand 
and struck the other man! 
And though we knew 
It was really just acting 
The idea that one 
Could hit another 
Shocked all of us in the audience So powerfully 
And a few people even left 
The theatre 
In tears. But there were funny bits too 
In the play that night. 
A character said he had a car. 
His Own. 
Personal. 
Car! 
And together they were to drive 
Both of them 
Off to an aeroport. 
Like with all the steering, 
And foot pedals, 
And everything. And in a very sad part 
Someone treated someone else badly 
And called her names 
Because of the colour 
Of her skin 
And because she had come 
From somewhere else. 
And all our eyes were wet for a while. One man used a device 
Which was an ancient komputer. 
Two flat parts with a hinge 
And it opened upon his lap 
And one side glowed brightly 
To illuminate his face 
And he presses a bunch of button-keys 
To spell words and things 
Because that’s how they told the 
Komputer 
What to do. 
And we all laughed. when it was over a bunch of us asked the man that was hit if he was okay was he really okay it looked terrible and did they really have to do that awful thing in the play and was the other actor a bad man and he said no, it was alright and the other actor was a nice man and that it didn’t hurt at all and he said he was sorry that it scared us but it was the violence of the time and the people of that time and we said we kind of understood. And we all felt better 
But one lady 
Still needed to hug him. 
And his eyes 
Were a little wet too.
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60
He is a bookworm humming marching tunes with a caribou. They smell the sky, hear the sand, see the bright red light with their tongues. Ed Ed the Knucklehead hides his hands in Ottawa. Ed never hid his hands, he revealed them for all to see. Splish-Splash, Splish-Splash, his webbed feet slap the tiled floor,tasting, tasting, tasting. Walking, walking, walking The foul-smelling wall of hunger screams empty codes at the freezing sun. "Calculus," whispers Ed, "I want more Calculus." The math will sneak by, he will feel its shadow; but not yet. Sour triangles whirling openly greet the visitors. Powerfully they mask their entrance embracing fraudulent identities. The caribou now speaks his truth, "Ani rotzeh tachtonim." Blindly the door opens and reveals all that the caribou desires stripes, rainbows, little flowers. Down the long pathway to nowhere.
0
Feb 21, 2010
Feb 21, 2010 at 5:45 PM UTC
Travels With A Friend
The apex of pleasure,    (There's nothing more pleasing), Is reaching the ******    Then powerfully sneezing. O.O
0
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 2:21 PM UTC
**** Time
Autumns leaves undo & all that's said carefully- remains untrue Unorganized these unprecedented artworks Powerfully heal.
0
Oct 2, 2023
Oct 2, 2023 at 5:14 AM UTC
A Late Summer
I’m sure it has happened To many other people before. There comes a moment A feeling one cannot ignore. A want, a drive, an impulse To have, to hold, to own Something, someone or A moment that is yours alone. At a party, a face appeared And our two eyes connected. It seemed we were talking; A dialogue was being erected. A relationship of mere moments, It seemed powerfully right. And at just that one moment Nothing could be more right. We left the party immediately And went to my place to see If followers through with feeling What just the right thing to be. It was all a wonderful adventure. I am sure we had no kind of fear. It was an accident of timing, One I would suffer for years. Twice more and we were broken, Never to be together again. No thoughts about if ever Not a question about when. And after the last evening I knew things had moved on. When I looked into my wallet. All of my money was gone. All because of impatience And not wanting to be alone I let myself fall into a kind of Rock and roll Twilight Zone. Why didn’t I ask more questions? Because in that single moment I wanted a fantasy romance. Nothing was more important. It was months later I discovered In a routine visit to my doctor That I had contracted a disease That would ruin my life forever. They didn’t know what to call it In those days before the name. Those were the days before AIDS And it’s horrific kind of sick fame. And they had no way to treat it So, most of us just quickly died. We had no ability to resist it. We had no resistance inside. We lost all our friends and lovers Because for one single moment That one evening with a stranger, Nothing was more important. I fell into a frenzy of not caring, Drugs and drink and debauchery. I felt I had lost all hope in life And lost all my chance at dignity. Of course that made me sicker My resistance went down further. I no longer wanted to live like that I was sick of my life altogether. I am writing this to you, today So you can share it with others. Tell people that getting laid Is not the same as a lover. Point to me and advise them We may have just one moment For valuing ourselves as a person Nothing must be more important. (This is dedicated to many of my friends over the decades that suffered from *** and AIDS related issues.)
0
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 5:27 AM UTC
A MOMENT
I’m sure it has happened To many other people before. There comes a moment A feeling one cannot ignore. A want, a drive, an impulse To have, to hold, to own Something, someone or A moment that is yours alone. At a party, a face appeared And our two eyes connected. It seemed we were talking; A dialogue was being erected. A relationship of mere moments, It seemed powerfully right. And at just that one moment Nothing could be more right. We left the party immediately And went to my place to see If followers through with feeling What just the right thing to be. It was all a wonderful adventure. I am sure we had no kind of fear. It was an accident of timing, One I would suffer for years. Twice more and we were broken, Never to be together again. No thoughts about if ever Not a question about when. And after the last evening I knew things had moved on. When I looked into my wallet. All of my money was gone. All because of impatience And not wanting to be alone I let myself fall into a kind of Rock and roll Twilight Zone. Why didn’t I ask more questions? Because in that single moment I wanted a fantasy romance. Nothing was more important. It was months later I discovered In a routine visit to my doctor That I had contracted a disease That would ruin my life forever. They didn’t know what to call it In those days before the name. Those were the days before AIDS And it’s horrific kind of sick fame. And they had no way to treat it So, most of us just quickly died. We had no ability to resist it. We had no resistance inside. We lost all our friends and lovers Because for one single moment That one evening with a stranger, Nothing was more important. I fell into a frenzy of not caring, Drugs and drink and debauchery. I felt I had lost all hope in life And lost all my chance at dignity. Of course that made me sicker My resistance went down further. I no longer wanted to live like that I was sick of my life altogether. I am writing this to you, today So you can share it with others. Tell people that getting laid Is not the same as a lover. Point to me and advise them We may have just one moment For valuing ourselves as a person Nothing must be more important. (This is dedicated to many of my friends over the decades that suffered from *** and AIDS related issues.)
Continue reading...
73
The rivers channel rain The way I channel pain I begin to see the futility In denying pain's utility Pain takes on a ****** nature And becomes my intellectual savior I shatter the mirror And swallow the shards The pain becomes clearer So my ******* get hard Glass fills my lungs They're profusely bleeding From words that stung Being my daily greeting ***** shoots out from my gun When I cut myself for fun My hose starts spewing Once vultures start chewing It's the only way I can cope When it's pain that gropes I live in a world that mixes *** and violence I live in a world that mixes *** and silence Where the painkillers Become the pain creators And our life's filler Is being pain traders A bull has charged through my library for a decade At this point every bovine movement cuts like a blade He creates pain that lasts When every day becomes my past I had a dream A sorcerer controlled my body But he only wanted pieces of me Bones started snapping out of my skin Blood spurting everywhere I awoke to ***** down there I guess life isn't always fair When I dream to avoid stares The real pain comes when I care When the privileged boycott The impoverished boy's cot He learns to ********** in the streets And gains an appreciation for feet Feet that trample The pain is ample When people powerfully push him away So he decides to go against the grain But there's no peace to be attained And all he's left with is pain
0
Oct 20, 2017
Oct 20, 2017 at 4:45 PM UTC
Pain
Her timid, inexperienced hands Young, unsure and insecure Didn't understand The power in her touch soothed his soul. She had no idea she was the chosen one As an evolved woman in her 40s She now understands that Her hands felt like heaters when they touched his soul. Penetrating his skin Skin smooth like silk Passion hot like fire The majestic curve of her hips The fullness of her ******* The softness of her lips Had a hypnotic effect Shaking this very powerful man To his very core. To see your soul's mirror reflection In another being Was completely unnerving The vicious battle of wills and ego That later ensued Was simply a defense mechanism For the both of them This level of intimacy Felt like a personal invasion What felt like an attempt Of mind and body control Or strategic manipulation Was truly the essence Of old familiar souls Reconnecting with each other This unbridled passion Was electrifying Every nerve was a live wire Intensity so strong it was alarming ******** full body electrocutions Powerfully addictive Never underestimate the significance Of the soul tie For as ancient energies exchange Souls intertwine This is an unbreakable bond Stronger than betrayal, conflict or estrangement Its unforgettable Holding this queen to your chest Without uttering a single word She was "home" Only the two of you share this special space With the ability to speak to each others thoughts And feel the others' soul cries You are deeply connected You are not alone So in the next lifetime Be brave enough To trust each other. Respect this bond as something far more than simple lust May we seize the opportunity And learn, build and grow together May next journey not be so lonely Marred with confusion, insecurities Ego and self doubt May we find comfort In our shared heartache Of the loss of our earthly mothers We will forever be connected spiritually Throughout the passage of time And the rest of eternity Until we meet again. © 2017
0
Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 4:01 PM UTC
Soul Ties
Her timid, inexperienced hands Young, unsure and insecure Didn't understand The power in her touch soothed his soul. She had no idea she was the chosen one As an evolved woman in her 40s She now understands that Her hands felt like heaters when they touched his soul. Penetrating his skin Skin smooth like silk Passion hot like fire The majestic curve of her hips The fullness of her ******* The softness of her lips Had a hypnotic effect Shaking this very powerful man To his very core. To see your soul's mirror reflection In another being Was completely unnerving The vicious battle of wills and ego That later ensued Was simply a defense mechanism For the both of them This level of intimacy Felt like a personal invasion What felt like an attempt Of mind and body control Or strategic manipulation Was truly the essence Of old familiar souls Reconnecting with each other This unbridled passion Was electrifying Every nerve was a live wire Intensity so strong it was alarming ******** full body electrocutions Powerfully addictive Never underestimate the significance Of the soul tie For as ancient energies exchange Souls intertwine This is an unbreakable bond Stronger than betrayal, conflict or estrangement Its unforgettable Holding this queen to your chest Without uttering a single word She was "home" Only the two of you share this special space With the ability to speak to each others thoughts And feel the others' soul cries You are deeply connected You are not alone So in the next lifetime Be brave enough To trust each other. Respect this bond as something far more than simple lust May we seize the opportunity And learn, build and grow together May next journey not be so lonely Marred with confusion, insecurities Ego and self doubt May we find comfort In our shared heartache Of the loss of our earthly mothers We will forever be connected spiritually Throughout the passage of time And the rest of eternity Until we meet again. © 2017
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72
i am only an egg i am only a rug i am only a bud turning into a flower i really like figs simplicity is magic word is bond NOWORDNOBONDROWON this is to you, September Eleventh and you, Reverend Donald Green... Listen to this Lady She's talking Jabaca right now. right in there is an envelope i made. i am only an egg i make mistakes I miss steak, my mistake I am not a vegetarian because I love animals I am a vegetarian Because I hate plants Will you please piddle-paddle away? Or at least turn off looking up to my Jhorts? never go full dumb with Marissa Golden never ok to be kicking dogs in the face. Are you ok? MMFWCL? woop woop? we are all so powerful, Ladies! We are also powerfully ****** Ladybird! ---are you my mother?
0
Sep 22, 2010
Sep 22, 2010 at 5:46 PM UTC
i like pig mints & fig mints
I've been trying to write something of substance for quite some time now, trying to collect fresh thoughts from newer moments of you and rearrange them into phrases that would gift me a new remarkable piece of the puzzle that is the immeasurable complexity of your soul. I've been trying to bottle up this obtrusive, demanding feeling of utter awe that comes when you and I climb into our honesty and wear it to bed, side-by-side. I've been trying to backtrack slightly, wishing so desperately (though stoically!) for the return of those painfully dire professions of unadulterated romance, reminiscing in the saturation of your love letters and how the color red is breathed into me time after time to remind me how powerfully you've shifted the balance of my life. I love you, I love you, by god, do I love you. My fears are still the same, though, Darling, and I feel that with the redness of passion shall also come a redness of a quality that pertains to homicidal gore, for you have, still, that scalpel in your hands, and my heart blooms every moment of my life, not for its love of me, but for the hope that it may one day bloom for the last time cradled in your blood-soaked palms. I've been trying to say anything else for a week but nothing will break from the gates and give me a solid night's sleep anymore. I can't tell you how mad you've actually made me. Though I do dare to hope that I've evoked similar sentiments in you.
0
Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 1:49 AM UTC
Blooming
Isolated, but not alone Seeking revenge All on his own But not against someone But more like All those Who've directly Or indirectly Made him feel This feeling Of isolation Isolation here Doesn't mean lonely Or friendless It's more like A complete lack of understanding By the society Towards you And Towards us all 'Us' being The younger generation ; Not everyone from this Younger generation Generally stand up Or fight Maybe because We're all isolated Together Similar minds But unable to read For we've never learnt How to But maybe he Like a few others Has the courage And motivation To fight through The invisible barriers Of this isolation On his own, though Because that's what we've learnt Or been told To live for yourself But at the same time For the future Of the unborn ; So he's going to pump up his kicks And use this shield of isolation To his strength Creating an outer wall As sturdy as bricks And fight through the barriers That society has created This isn't a huge war That everyone will soon Know about Nor will he be called or titled Some hero And I'm glad he isn't Because fame infects Even the most ambitious So watch him silently But powerfully Slice the walls Created by us In his own way It won't be easy But at least He, Unlike many others, Will know at the end That his life And his actions Did have Meaning
0
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 1:33 PM UTC
Pumped Up Kicks
...5 X 5... Rooster prepares for early waking content with just chicken napping breathless: wings are powerfully flapping each morning, weird song playing waking us with endless crowing. Sally Copyright 2014 Rosalia Rosario A, Bayan
0
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 4:06 AM UTC
...nature's clock...
Just the other day, I would never have thought that it can be done. Couldn't believe that it is possible. Never imagined I would come out victorious with my dignity not messed up. How can this be done for the sake of posterity. With enthusiasm we can do wonders. Positiveness is vital to propel you to the miraculous. It can generate you and powerfully send you to a spiritual high. Anyone who has not experienced the darkness will never appreciate the light. You will never know the beauty of heaven until you pass through hell to overcome evil. Enlightened mind is a determined one and can't be stopped by the frivolous feelings of the weak mind. Uprightness must be a priority in its dealing with the worldly things. Separated from the crowed, he becomes more in tuned with the divine and the fantastic. Trusted with the fabulous, the mind is tested for strength of purpose to be fully accepted. No weakness is tolerated for the inner beauty of man is made visible by the power beyond the ordinary. The innate power within man is called forth at a time such as this. ©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
0
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 2:28 PM UTC
IT IS POSSIBLE
I was abused literally and pushed aside by teacher He was in rage to see me when I tried to enter He might have some grievances in mind to nurture As I was doing fare in studies and position was assured I was really ashy boy but excellent in pick up I heard attentively and was cheered with thumb up His behavior as teacher made great impact in mind I might have taken it lightly if he was harsh or unkind It is customary to show little disrespect to the poor students Some of the discourtesy is extended with inferior comments I was unable to think further but bore a grudge permanently I remember those abusive remarks and resisted him once vehemently I thought and rethought about such behavior As teacher he would have been considerate and held honor I became reserved from that day and decided to keep silent As it was now known to me that best way is to offer no comment In social circle too certain disliking exist for people It may be more intensive when they are incapable Not in financial capacity to move forward and compete Live under their dominance and agree to submit I remained firm in approach but turned away from close contacts I kept good will at heart and prayed for their well being in fact This gave me enough of strength to observe them from distance I was taken little note of and none observed my presence I return gesture with kind words and remain aloof I have enough of strength financially as single proof They dare not to see me with inferiority and pull down As I have established of my own and became powerfully known I wish that same kind of maltreatment is not shown To children who are unfortunate of having means of their own They are really asset to us and builder of future generation How can we be indifferent when question of building nation comes? I have known some of the people getting blinded By sudden arrival of fortune and secretly confided Their common sense gets unnatural boost to reveal The arrogance is reflected and shown with no efforts to conceal
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Dec 9, 2011
Dec 9, 2011 at 7:48 AM UTC
Abide by teacher
I was abused literally and pushed aside by teacher He was in rage to see me when I tried to enter He might have some grievances in mind to nurture As I was doing fare in studies and position was assured I was really ashy boy but excellent in pick up I heard attentively and was cheered with thumb up His behavior as teacher made great impact in mind I might have taken it lightly if he was harsh or unkind It is customary to show little disrespect to the poor students Some of the discourtesy is extended with inferior comments I was unable to think further but bore a grudge permanently I remember those abusive remarks and resisted him once vehemently I thought and rethought about such behavior As teacher he would have been considerate and held honor I became reserved from that day and decided to keep silent As it was now known to me that best way is to offer no comment In social circle too certain disliking exist for people It may be more intensive when they are incapable Not in financial capacity to move forward and compete Live under their dominance and agree to submit I remained firm in approach but turned away from close contacts I kept good will at heart and prayed for their well being in fact This gave me enough of strength to observe them from distance I was taken little note of and none observed my presence I return gesture with kind words and remain aloof I have enough of strength financially as single proof They dare not to see me with inferiority and pull down As I have established of my own and became powerfully known I wish that same kind of maltreatment is not shown To children who are unfortunate of having means of their own They are really asset to us and builder of future generation How can we be indifferent when question of building nation comes? I have known some of the people getting blinded By sudden arrival of fortune and secretly confided Their common sense gets unnatural boost to reveal The arrogance is reflected and shown with no efforts to conceal
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“You must taste your words before you speak” She said, with the sweetest smile Always consider the feelings of those around you Let them rest on your tongue awhile Do not be so quick to claim your bitter offenses When others behave annoyingly The truth is, you may be being too sensitive She said, looking straight at me There are some who are forceful and opinionated With powerfully strong personalities Do not ever let them mistreat you, protect yourself Using your wisdom of tact, gracefully Some will walk the line between being assertive And overstepping their bounds If you will deal with them using your softest nature The rewards you reap are better, I’ve found *For Linda
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Aug 11, 2010
Aug 11, 2010 at 6:05 PM UTC
Taste Your Words
I know the feeling experienced, when everything crumbles before you without warning because you were not paying attention or prepared for the pressures of the pesky people who contends with you to mess up what took you a lifetime to build. Everything crashes and tumbles before you just like that. Starting all over again is like being born again in a world of uncertainty full of intriguingly mesmerizing awe and revulsion. Where do you begin from here, how can this happen to you, you wonder how much time you have left to get things done all over again. Don't worry about it, just begin from the beginning. Pick up the crumbs, the left over and the pieces of the bricks and pebbles thrown at you to forge again the blue print with resilient attitude to create the masterpiece that will guarantee you a unique spot in the world that stands you out powerfully into the spotlight. Unbeatable and a valued and treasured friend in the world. ©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
0
Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 5:52 PM UTC
BE UNBEATABLE AND TREASURED
I think I finally understand what people mean when they compare their love to a burning candle. I thought I had already known years ago, but I could never have been more wrong. You were talking about those butterflies you get when you're around me. As we danced and swayed together that night, after you carried me out into the backyard to the perfect spot in the wet grass, We held each other in subtle motion together, with arms drawn close around our bodies, as one. And it was then, amid the misty nightfall, that you told me about those butterflies. I smiled and delicately ran my hand across your chest, feeling your heart beat with such profound pace and purpose. I swear, your heart was beating so powerfully that I could feel your thick pulse hurtling throughout your entire body. We stood there, swaying, and that's when it hit me. I probably get those butterflies too, when I'm with you. But I get them more at the thought of you when we're apart. And at first it worried me, because it felt as if my brain wasn't synchronized with what my heart was feeling. I  knew I loved you, but I didn't know how I loved you. It's not as if I don't feel that excitement, or that rush of getting worked up over you, because I most certainly do. But the main thing that I feel when I'm around you is this wholesome peace and calm atmosphere, As if the Earth stopped spinning and time is slow. You make me feel so utterly relaxed that I don't ever notice any other feeling when you're around. The air feels thick and comforting, sweet and pure, as it surrounds me in everything that you are. Nothing about this love I have feels rushed, out of control, or over-powering. It feels like a slow burning of pure passion, delicately taking its time to pass on by. Its slowness is not to be confused with "boring" or "dull", oh no. It's something that is slow and careful, but so bright and powerful and...calm. That night, it hit me, and that night, I knew just how it was that I loved you. I finally understand what they mean when they compare their love to a burning candle, and it's not what most think. For a candle is not fast to burn, nor does it vary in how bright its flame flickers. Once it has been lit, there's no stopping it, not for anything in the world. Its steady candlelight glows with ease, with hues of a radiant spectrum of heat. My love for you is beyond measure, beyond pace, far beyond description, and it feels as old as this dry August sun. A candle, burning lazily, flickering in a vibrant display, just as it will be tomorrow, and as it was yesterday.
0
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 3:03 AM UTC
Candles
I think I finally understand what people mean when they compare their love to a burning candle. I thought I had already known years ago, but I could never have been more wrong. You were talking about those butterflies you get when you're around me. As we danced and swayed together that night, after you carried me out into the backyard to the perfect spot in the wet grass, We held each other in subtle motion together, with arms drawn close around our bodies, as one. And it was then, amid the misty nightfall, that you told me about those butterflies. I smiled and delicately ran my hand across your chest, feeling your heart beat with such profound pace and purpose. I swear, your heart was beating so powerfully that I could feel your thick pulse hurtling throughout your entire body. We stood there, swaying, and that's when it hit me. I probably get those butterflies too, when I'm with you. But I get them more at the thought of you when we're apart. And at first it worried me, because it felt as if my brain wasn't synchronized with what my heart was feeling. I  knew I loved you, but I didn't know how I loved you. It's not as if I don't feel that excitement, or that rush of getting worked up over you, because I most certainly do. But the main thing that I feel when I'm around you is this wholesome peace and calm atmosphere, As if the Earth stopped spinning and time is slow. You make me feel so utterly relaxed that I don't ever notice any other feeling when you're around. The air feels thick and comforting, sweet and pure, as it surrounds me in everything that you are. Nothing about this love I have feels rushed, out of control, or over-powering. It feels like a slow burning of pure passion, delicately taking its time to pass on by. Its slowness is not to be confused with "boring" or "dull", oh no. It's something that is slow and careful, but so bright and powerful and...calm. That night, it hit me, and that night, I knew just how it was that I loved you. I finally understand what they mean when they compare their love to a burning candle, and it's not what most think. For a candle is not fast to burn, nor does it vary in how bright its flame flickers. Once it has been lit, there's no stopping it, not for anything in the world. Its steady candlelight glows with ease, with hues of a radiant spectrum of heat. My love for you is beyond measure, beyond pace, far beyond description, and it feels as old as this dry August sun. A candle, burning lazily, flickering in a vibrant display, just as it will be tomorrow, and as it was yesterday.
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