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"praying" poems
"Please, daddy!" You were walking so fast. Too fast for my little feet to keep up. Was it that easy for you to leave me? You heard my tear-filled screams, but you never stopped. You just kept going. Farther and farther away, not even trying to get one last look at me. I punched, pulled, and pushed trying to make you stop. You didn’t. You just kept going. Leaving me behind. "Please don’t leave me!" Pain. I remember it too well. The heart throbbing pain. We watched as you left. Me and mommy. My eyes were wet. Hers were dry, cold. As if she knew this would happen. I looked into mommy's eyes. Her brown eyes tangled with lies. Lying to me for you. How long do I have to wait for you before you realize that what you did was a mistake? What was the reason you stayed away for so long? Was it all the stupid crap you did in the past or is it because you don’t want me anymore? Since you left, I dreamed of your return. The day you would wrap me in your arms and whisper in my ear, "*I'm sorry for what I did. I promise I will never leave you again, my little Cookie Monster*." Then I wake up, hoping to see you. Praying that it wasn’t all a dream. But reality soon caught up, and the dream quickly died. I remember all the tears I had rushing down my face as I saw you leave me and mommy behind, to never return. I'm so incomplete without you, I need my daddy back in my life. You deceived me, you said you would always be there. You pinky promised. You broke your promise. How can I trust you again? Do you still think of me as your "cookie monster" or a daughter you never loved, a daughter you could leave behind without a single goodbye in the blink of an eye? I wish you were here to watch me grow up but we both know that will never happen. "*I miss you so much! Won’t you please come back to me, daddy? I just need to see your face one last time*." Am I that disappointing I need to work to make you love me? “Hey, daddy even if you don’t love me I will always love you no matter what happens.” I bet you didn't even think about how I would feel when you left. No, you only thought of yourself like you always do. You missed all my birthdays, first dates, father-daughter dances, and you may even miss my wedding, not that you even care. Did you know that I would wait for the postman to bring the mail and check to see if there was a letter for me? But there never was. I eventually stopped going, knowing nothing was there for me.   "*Well, daddy looks like you really didn't care about me buts it's in the past. Now I have a family who loves me, stays with me, and likes for who I am. I don't need you anymore*.” Daddy, I still need you. Please, come back.
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Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 10:53 AM UTC
In The Blink Of An Eye
"Please, daddy!" You were walking so fast. Too fast for my little feet to keep up. Was it that easy for you to leave me? You heard my tear-filled screams, but you never stopped. You just kept going. Farther and farther away, not even trying to get one last look at me. I punched, pulled, and pushed trying to make you stop. You didn’t. You just kept going. Leaving me behind. "Please don’t leave me!" Pain. I remember it too well. The heart throbbing pain. We watched as you left. Me and mommy. My eyes were wet. Hers were dry, cold. As if she knew this would happen. I looked into mommy's eyes. Her brown eyes tangled with lies. Lying to me for you. How long do I have to wait for you before you realize that what you did was a mistake? What was the reason you stayed away for so long? Was it all the stupid crap you did in the past or is it because you don’t want me anymore? Since you left, I dreamed of your return. The day you would wrap me in your arms and whisper in my ear, "*I'm sorry for what I did. I promise I will never leave you again, my little Cookie Monster*." Then I wake up, hoping to see you. Praying that it wasn’t all a dream. But reality soon caught up, and the dream quickly died. I remember all the tears I had rushing down my face as I saw you leave me and mommy behind, to never return. I'm so incomplete without you, I need my daddy back in my life. You deceived me, you said you would always be there. You pinky promised. You broke your promise. How can I trust you again? Do you still think of me as your "cookie monster" or a daughter you never loved, a daughter you could leave behind without a single goodbye in the blink of an eye? I wish you were here to watch me grow up but we both know that will never happen. "*I miss you so much! Won’t you please come back to me, daddy? I just need to see your face one last time*." Am I that disappointing I need to work to make you love me? “Hey, daddy even if you don’t love me I will always love you no matter what happens.” I bet you didn't even think about how I would feel when you left. No, you only thought of yourself like you always do. You missed all my birthdays, first dates, father-daughter dances, and you may even miss my wedding, not that you even care. Did you know that I would wait for the postman to bring the mail and check to see if there was a letter for me? But there never was. I eventually stopped going, knowing nothing was there for me.   "*Well, daddy looks like you really didn't care about me buts it's in the past. Now I have a family who loves me, stays with me, and likes for who I am. I don't need you anymore*.” Daddy, I still need you. Please, come back.
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When i was 13 I thought that gay and straight were things that other people were People that weren't raised christian People that didn't have dads People that were abused People that i should pray for but not get close to when i was 14 my best friend came out as gay i didn't see it coming but i probably should have she wore ties every day and plaid shirts with the sleeves rolled up and cut her hair short as soon as she could but i didn’t see it because gay was other people when i was 14 i watched as the news spread like wildfire “did you hear? that girl is gay.” I watched as people slowly backed away from her people that knew her all her life that is, the people that didn’t cut her off instantly I watched as the youth group we had both attended asked her to leave I watched as her drama group kicked her out because they were afraid of the yearly camp we went to that somehow knowing that she was gay made her more likely to attack the other girls in their beds than the year before I watched. I didn’t do anything. what changed my mind wasn’t a change of perspective on queer people it still took me a year to decide being gay wasn’t wrong but i decided that my best friend was someone i would stick with because i loved her I quietly stayed. didn’t make a fuss, didn’t call people out when they called her names behind her back. I should have. but i didn’t. I didn’t join in, but i didn’t defend her i didn’t say to these people **** you that girl is beautiful and amazing and if you can’t see through your hatred then i don’t want to be your friend either but i didn’t . I didn’t go through what she did. I didn’t get kicked out of anything, i didn’t lose friends When i was 15, i got fed up I left that drama group. I stopped going to that church. I stepped away from those friends and even though i never said why the look on my face when i ran into them and they asked, “how’s she doing?” answered that question for them. I spent 24 hours examining my bible trying to find the verses that say being gay is wrong there were barely any and they were right next to verses that said eating pork was wrong or planting crops next to each other or wearing two different fabrics there was my answer. this isn't a story of my journey. This isn't me building myself up “hey, I wasn't as bad as those other people I’m good now” this is a story of how one person can change your life forever if i didn't have a gay best friend what a way to start a story, huh? if i didn't have a gay best friend then I would still be there quietly praying for the sins of others, but not trying to understand so don’t look at all Christians and say they’re awful they’re bigoted they’re judgmental because we are but often it’s because we don’t know any better teaching us kindly works leading by example.
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Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 1:27 AM UTC
If I Didn't Have a Gay Best Friend
When i was 13 I thought that gay and straight were things that other people were People that weren't raised christian People that didn't have dads People that were abused People that i should pray for but not get close to when i was 14 my best friend came out as gay i didn't see it coming but i probably should have she wore ties every day and plaid shirts with the sleeves rolled up and cut her hair short as soon as she could but i didn’t see it because gay was other people when i was 14 i watched as the news spread like wildfire “did you hear? that girl is gay.” I watched as people slowly backed away from her people that knew her all her life that is, the people that didn’t cut her off instantly I watched as the youth group we had both attended asked her to leave I watched as her drama group kicked her out because they were afraid of the yearly camp we went to that somehow knowing that she was gay made her more likely to attack the other girls in their beds than the year before I watched. I didn’t do anything. what changed my mind wasn’t a change of perspective on queer people it still took me a year to decide being gay wasn’t wrong but i decided that my best friend was someone i would stick with because i loved her I quietly stayed. didn’t make a fuss, didn’t call people out when they called her names behind her back. I should have. but i didn’t. I didn’t join in, but i didn’t defend her i didn’t say to these people **** you that girl is beautiful and amazing and if you can’t see through your hatred then i don’t want to be your friend either but i didn’t . I didn’t go through what she did. I didn’t get kicked out of anything, i didn’t lose friends When i was 15, i got fed up I left that drama group. I stopped going to that church. I stepped away from those friends and even though i never said why the look on my face when i ran into them and they asked, “how’s she doing?” answered that question for them. I spent 24 hours examining my bible trying to find the verses that say being gay is wrong there were barely any and they were right next to verses that said eating pork was wrong or planting crops next to each other or wearing two different fabrics there was my answer. this isn't a story of my journey. This isn't me building myself up “hey, I wasn't as bad as those other people I’m good now” this is a story of how one person can change your life forever if i didn't have a gay best friend what a way to start a story, huh? if i didn't have a gay best friend then I would still be there quietly praying for the sins of others, but not trying to understand so don’t look at all Christians and say they’re awful they’re bigoted they’re judgmental because we are but often it’s because we don’t know any better teaching us kindly works leading by example.
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Our hearts and souls were so blessed to fast Ramadan sincerely To be enlightened by its super mercy and extreme prosperity purity abiding around my heart, kindling my every part a gift from Allah came along to bless our hearts to spread peace and love, to dig faith in each part A blessed bounty to wipe away our tears to zest our souls and vanish our fears to sparkle with faith with our keenest beliefs and twinkle light in our bright smiles oh dear eid, you can't help it but sowing seeds of joy, Capturing joy and happiness in every single countenance , of a child's enthusiastic joy kindling a thriving inner radiance joining hearts and souls with the deepest crystals of love revealing such a fancy artistic touch of a peaceful dove feeling the gratitude for Allah's super merciful blessings praying to pluck the roses of peace each single moment pounding hearts of affliction and yearning missing your everlasting passion getting sick of poisoning yearning for their peaceful deliverance to catch glimpses of happiness that once has been hunted by a sudden death of a loving part of soul until Allah will send a cheerful hope, just be patience to get over all the mope smile and share the joy of eid and love , work even harder to cherish the heaven above ....
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Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 8:12 PM UTC
Eid's faithful whispers
tell me... will tomorrow bring,      all the things i'm longing...     stowed upon its elusive wings, tirelessly beating     and fighting to show what's dangling and hanging...           ready for the picking...                           awaiting... such time so it could begin its need for unloading,                    delivering                                       and dropping, its gleaming                       treasures on those who are deserving,         in no way lacking so they could be at the receiving end of this pressurising,            inking                       of dwindling                                         words... careless thoughts conceived only to               fuel            my deranged ramblings... incessant mutterings of a shattering                          mind...            bending backwards, almost breaking,          risking... the chance of ever fully                                           mending... hoping and praying    for a sentence that's pending dawn's approval... allowing    the rising of the sun...                   paving             ways for thriving                                           wishes, unbarring                   gates for soaring                                                 dreams, unlocking                    latches, relieving... the heightening                      anxieties of grieving                                                          hearts. constantly whispering                                utterances, promising good will, happiness                               and titillating                                                       sanity. we're thinking...      the earth is spinning,          the moon is setting,      so the sun must be rising                          but...              tell me,                            tomorrow...                                 is it coming?
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Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 3:25 PM UTC
tomorrow
tell me... will tomorrow bring,      all the things i'm longing...     stowed upon its elusive wings, tirelessly beating     and fighting to show what's dangling and hanging...           ready for the picking...                           awaiting... such time so it could begin its need for unloading,                    delivering                                       and dropping, its gleaming                       treasures on those who are deserving,         in no way lacking so they could be at the receiving end of this pressurising,            inking                       of dwindling                                         words... careless thoughts conceived only to               fuel            my deranged ramblings... incessant mutterings of a shattering                          mind...            bending backwards, almost breaking,          risking... the chance of ever fully                                           mending... hoping and praying    for a sentence that's pending dawn's approval... allowing    the rising of the sun...                   paving             ways for thriving                                           wishes, unbarring                   gates for soaring                                                 dreams, unlocking                    latches, relieving... the heightening                      anxieties of grieving                                                          hearts. constantly whispering                                utterances, promising good will, happiness                               and titillating                                                       sanity. we're thinking...      the earth is spinning,          the moon is setting,      so the sun must be rising                          but...              tell me,                            tomorrow...                                 is it coming?
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Dear Future Wife, I know that it wasn’t easy going through the tides of life. It will never be easy. You might find yourself looking for someone who would fulfil the emptiness that you would feel inside. It is my strongest hope that you won’t entertain anyone who would try to take your heart. I would like you to focus on your studies at this point. I know that studying could sometimes be boring or somewhat hard, but I trust you with this one. You can do it. I’m writing this letter for a purpose. I would like to tell you some things before I marry you or before you become my girlfriend or even before I meet you. I would like to start this message by thanking you in advance. Thank you for choosing me out of the billions of men who are better and more handsome than me. I know that I never deserved somebody like you, and it’s kind of unfair for me because when we would be together, I know that we would look like beauty and the beast. You’d be beauty and I’d be beast. Thank you for the patience that you will have with me for the next 10 to 70 years. I appreciate how you would make me smile and laugh and even cry at times. It wouldn’t be hard to be with me, because I beat a girl in terms of emotions. Thank you for being faithful with me. I just want you to know that I would not look for anyone else but you. You’re the one I am praying for every night before I go to sleep and every morning before you get up from bed. It may not be my season yet to be in love. I promise you that I will wait. I will not rush anything with you. Forgive me if I wouldn’t give you flowers and chocolates for valentines while we are still students. I promise you that I will give you something more than that at the right time. I would reserve my hands for you, you and my mother will be the only women who would be able to grasp my very hands while walking. I would reserve myself for you. There would be lots of temptations, but beloved, I promise you that the only one who would control our relationship is God. It would not be easy being with me. It will never be. But I thank you for choosing me. Forgive me if I can’t be as handsome as the celebrities you watch in movies. I may not be handsome, but I promise to love you with all I am until my final breath. I’m Excited I’m excited to be your boyfriend and experience butterflies in my stomach whenever I’m with you. I’m excited to give you gifts every occasion. I’m excited to text you the words “I love you” every morning. I’m excited to see you walking on the altar. I’m excited to hear the words “You may kiss the bride” I’m excited to be your husband. I’m excited to forestall you in waking up just to cook for you. I’m excited to have dogs (we’ll name them Bacon and Goya) I’m excited to start a family with you. I’m excited to roam the world with you. But while our story is not yet clashing to each other in His book, my excitement would not stop me from waiting. I will wait for you. I promise. I love you. Your Future Husband
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Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 11:14 AM UTC
A Letter to my Future Wife
Dear Future Wife, I know that it wasn’t easy going through the tides of life. It will never be easy. You might find yourself looking for someone who would fulfil the emptiness that you would feel inside. It is my strongest hope that you won’t entertain anyone who would try to take your heart. I would like you to focus on your studies at this point. I know that studying could sometimes be boring or somewhat hard, but I trust you with this one. You can do it. I’m writing this letter for a purpose. I would like to tell you some things before I marry you or before you become my girlfriend or even before I meet you. I would like to start this message by thanking you in advance. Thank you for choosing me out of the billions of men who are better and more handsome than me. I know that I never deserved somebody like you, and it’s kind of unfair for me because when we would be together, I know that we would look like beauty and the beast. You’d be beauty and I’d be beast. Thank you for the patience that you will have with me for the next 10 to 70 years. I appreciate how you would make me smile and laugh and even cry at times. It wouldn’t be hard to be with me, because I beat a girl in terms of emotions. Thank you for being faithful with me. I just want you to know that I would not look for anyone else but you. You’re the one I am praying for every night before I go to sleep and every morning before you get up from bed. It may not be my season yet to be in love. I promise you that I will wait. I will not rush anything with you. Forgive me if I wouldn’t give you flowers and chocolates for valentines while we are still students. I promise you that I will give you something more than that at the right time. I would reserve my hands for you, you and my mother will be the only women who would be able to grasp my very hands while walking. I would reserve myself for you. There would be lots of temptations, but beloved, I promise you that the only one who would control our relationship is God. It would not be easy being with me. It will never be. But I thank you for choosing me. Forgive me if I can’t be as handsome as the celebrities you watch in movies. I may not be handsome, but I promise to love you with all I am until my final breath. I’m Excited I’m excited to be your boyfriend and experience butterflies in my stomach whenever I’m with you. I’m excited to give you gifts every occasion. I’m excited to text you the words “I love you” every morning. I’m excited to see you walking on the altar. I’m excited to hear the words “You may kiss the bride” I’m excited to be your husband. I’m excited to forestall you in waking up just to cook for you. I’m excited to have dogs (we’ll name them Bacon and Goya) I’m excited to start a family with you. I’m excited to roam the world with you. But while our story is not yet clashing to each other in His book, my excitement would not stop me from waiting. I will wait for you. I promise. I love you. Your Future Husband
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I, a woman of letters, have been waiting for you, a man of numbers. I’ve been fantasizing of the day when you would deliver at the porch of my heart your algebraic equation. The x’s and y’s merged systematically with all the symbols, forming an indelibly inked pattern that would finally make sense. I have been waiting and hoping and praying, but all I’ve got so far are your invalid equations, the confusion, the uncertainties, the unsolvable mathematical sentence that I want so desperately unscrambled. How can you not, in your genius, find the right equation, even as I now try to draft a coherent verse? for j.e. 013115
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Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 11:03 AM UTC
algebraic equation
For centuries philosophers have speculated the role sleep plays in society But it was not until the 1950s that sleep woke up in academia And today sleep studies show what dormant minds really look like Information about our rest we've never seen before However, I've always understood the importance of bedtime You see my parents taught me that sleep and love are soul mates My mom She's the sleeper She loves to sleep She cuddles up on any piece of furniture in my house and snoozes for hours Never views a sitcom past the first commercial break when she's tired And she's okay with that Dad never lets her drive on road trips when night falls Preferring his sleeping beauty tucked safely in the passenger seat Their hands meet as she lets the stars serenade her to slumber While he anchors his left hand on the steering wheel Thanking his lucky stars for his real life princess My dad He's the snorer He loves to snore He roars like a lion on his love seat and naps for hours Never views a sitcom past the second commercial break when he's tired And he's okay with that Mom never lets him sleep alone too long though Keeping his nose plugged strong enough to signal for bedtime They both stand together as he lets her guide him to slumber While she ushers her left hand around his back Thanking her lucky stars for her own prince charming Now my parents call me the dreamer And I sure do love to dream It seems my parents are textbook role models for me Because when you live inside a fairytale for far too long Your reality becomes an endless stream of fantasies Your expectations are exceptionally out of context Strictly written for poetic lines in picture books Never meant to be held Never meant to be felt Only meant for spines stuck on rosewood shelves My parents call me the dreamer And boy I love to dream I believe in creating the unthinkable And when you live inside a fairytale for far too long Nothing is fictional You picture a life with storybook endings Praying the author never runs out of ink You crown each syllable the king of the moment Treating each page like royalty And I've always been okay with that So when I asked my mom when she knew she fell in love She spoke of an instant of unadulterated emotion She said she knew instantly She didn't need to sleep on it When I asked my dad when he knew he fell in love He just smiled back at me He must have known instantly He didn't even speak on it So when I ask myself when I might fall in love I can't help but smile Think of fairytale titles Mile wide love notes in all shapes and styles And a moment where my reality sets my hopes on fire And I won't need to dream about it anymore
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Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 2:35 PM UTC
Dreamer
For centuries philosophers have speculated the role sleep plays in society But it was not until the 1950s that sleep woke up in academia And today sleep studies show what dormant minds really look like Information about our rest we've never seen before However, I've always understood the importance of bedtime You see my parents taught me that sleep and love are soul mates My mom She's the sleeper She loves to sleep She cuddles up on any piece of furniture in my house and snoozes for hours Never views a sitcom past the first commercial break when she's tired And she's okay with that Dad never lets her drive on road trips when night falls Preferring his sleeping beauty tucked safely in the passenger seat Their hands meet as she lets the stars serenade her to slumber While he anchors his left hand on the steering wheel Thanking his lucky stars for his real life princess My dad He's the snorer He loves to snore He roars like a lion on his love seat and naps for hours Never views a sitcom past the second commercial break when he's tired And he's okay with that Mom never lets him sleep alone too long though Keeping his nose plugged strong enough to signal for bedtime They both stand together as he lets her guide him to slumber While she ushers her left hand around his back Thanking her lucky stars for her own prince charming Now my parents call me the dreamer And I sure do love to dream It seems my parents are textbook role models for me Because when you live inside a fairytale for far too long Your reality becomes an endless stream of fantasies Your expectations are exceptionally out of context Strictly written for poetic lines in picture books Never meant to be held Never meant to be felt Only meant for spines stuck on rosewood shelves My parents call me the dreamer And boy I love to dream I believe in creating the unthinkable And when you live inside a fairytale for far too long Nothing is fictional You picture a life with storybook endings Praying the author never runs out of ink You crown each syllable the king of the moment Treating each page like royalty And I've always been okay with that So when I asked my mom when she knew she fell in love She spoke of an instant of unadulterated emotion She said she knew instantly She didn't need to sleep on it When I asked my dad when he knew he fell in love He just smiled back at me He must have known instantly He didn't even speak on it So when I ask myself when I might fall in love I can't help but smile Think of fairytale titles Mile wide love notes in all shapes and styles And a moment where my reality sets my hopes on fire And I won't need to dream about it anymore
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Lush is the quietude of the late Saturday afternoon, rich are the silencing sounds, as variegated as the shades of greens of a man-seeded, nature-patchworked lawn rays reveal some bright, some yellowed spots, all a potent color palette resting worry wearied eyes, untroubled by the gentle fading light's illumination, that soon will disappear and seal officially, another week gone by the lawn, acting as an ceiling acoustic tile, absorbing and reflecting the varied din of disharmonious natural sounds orchestrated, an ever present reminder      that true quiet is not the absence of noise I hear the chill in the air, insects debating vociferously their Saturday evening plans, the waves broom-swishing beach debris, pretending to be young parents putting away the children's toys for the eve the birds speak in Babel multitudes of tongues, chirps, whistles, clicks and clacks, then going strangely silent as if all were praying collectively the afternoon sabbath service, with an intensity of the silent devotion this moment, i cannot well enough communicate, this trump of light absolutes, and animal maybes, that are visually and aurally presented  in a living surround sound screen, Dolby, of course, all a plot of ease and gentility, in toto, sweet serenity here to cease, no more tinkering, leave well enough, plenty well enough
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Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 10:39 AM UTC
Lush is the quietude of the late Saturday afternoon
I hope that when you read this, you think of me and smile. Cause every moment spent with you, was 10x worth my while. I'm wishing I had, maybe your hand to hold. Wishing that you'd reach out praying you're that bold. You still blame me for everything, and yet, still nothing I've done. You're still too busy losing, but the battle's been won.
0
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 2:40 PM UTC
Smile
Hello? Can you hear me? I’m down here... 6 feet under... Not where I’m suppose to be You come and visit me Everyday I hear you constantly pray To talk to me again Hold my hand Hug me tight Well I’m right here I hear everything you say I cry with you I laugh with you I pray with you I am always with you Even from 6 feet under I AM HERE I pray myself To heal your pain Dry your eyes Help you move on Don’t forget me You know where I am Always in your heart Forever your friend I will continue to grow old with you Until we meet again When we walk together in the sky Holding each others hands For now I stay 6 feet underground Loving you Praying with you Hearing your voice As I lay in silence 6 feet underground...
0
May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018 at 7:27 AM UTC
6 Feet Under
The plates below are shaking The house & lands on earths are moving I can see the fear on people's face Moving here &there; in fear, without interest Hopeless face and tearful eyes, Praying for their God, thinking, how to survive. Dear Earthquake, Why you come? Not only once but again and again with more AFTER SHAKES.
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May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 2:24 AM UTC
EarthQuake
My body is the makeup of both hard and softness The reds, browns, golds... The light and darkness of all my ancestors. Some men have lost themselves here, Some men have found themselves here Most women stand stronger next to this. I am both war grounds and silent cities. I am both girl trying not to drown in all this sadness, all this loss... And woman trying not to drown in all this sadness, all this loss. I am your blonde roast that starts a riot in you first thing in the morning And your dark roast that goes down smooth, leaving you to want for a little more... I am both the scab healing over bruised skin And the area surrounding it. I am both strong legs and soft lips ...Brown skin deep enough to hide flaws still. I am the softness in light... And the softness of honey, but still thick enough to swim in. I am the hardness of knees on ground, praying to the man or woman who has made me both hard and soft. I am the woman who cannot forget enough to truly forgive, But human enough to help you if the light goes out. I am consistent no's and the yes that matters, I am shattered glass and spilled milk. This skin mirrors both the earth and everything you give the universe on a new moon . I am both woman dancing in nothing, but a skirt to the rhythm of the ocean ... And the ocean kissing the shore wishing to be as free as that woman. Sometimes this mouth... Sometimes my words bite, Creating harsh weather, But I am tired of making storms of people, storms of my relations. I am both soft belly and strong back. Something you can count on, A woman you can be sure of. You can bet on me, You can stand near me, You can fall in my presence. ...You can be both hard and soft with me.
0
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 7:59 PM UTC
Black Woman, both Hard & Soft...
My body is the makeup of both hard and softness The reds, browns, golds... The light and darkness of all my ancestors. Some men have lost themselves here, Some men have found themselves here Most women stand stronger next to this. I am both war grounds and silent cities. I am both girl trying not to drown in all this sadness, all this loss... And woman trying not to drown in all this sadness, all this loss. I am your blonde roast that starts a riot in you first thing in the morning And your dark roast that goes down smooth, leaving you to want for a little more... I am both the scab healing over bruised skin And the area surrounding it. I am both strong legs and soft lips ...Brown skin deep enough to hide flaws still. I am the softness in light... And the softness of honey, but still thick enough to swim in. I am the hardness of knees on ground, praying to the man or woman who has made me both hard and soft. I am the woman who cannot forget enough to truly forgive, But human enough to help you if the light goes out. I am consistent no's and the yes that matters, I am shattered glass and spilled milk. This skin mirrors both the earth and everything you give the universe on a new moon . I am both woman dancing in nothing, but a skirt to the rhythm of the ocean ... And the ocean kissing the shore wishing to be as free as that woman. Sometimes this mouth... Sometimes my words bite, Creating harsh weather, But I am tired of making storms of people, storms of my relations. I am both soft belly and strong back. Something you can count on, A woman you can be sure of. You can bet on me, You can stand near me, You can fall in my presence. ...You can be both hard and soft with me.
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36
Now I lay down to sleep Praying, hoping we don't meet But every time I close my eyes I see us together Then I cry You took advantage of me Took my virginity I fell in love, so to speak I was soon made to realize The **** made you different in my eyes Later realizations Were made to me You were older than my dad You weren't clean I'm lucky no diseases were Given to me Just severe trauma PTSD
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May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 5:20 PM UTC
PTSD
Babels of blocks to the high heavens towering Flames of futility swirling below; Poisonous fungi in brick and stone flowering, Lanterns that shudder and death-lights that glow. Black monstrous bridges across oily rivers, Cobwebs of cable to nameless things spun; Catacomb deeps whose dank chaos delivers Streams of live foetor that rots in the sun. Colour and splendour, disease and decaying, Shrieking and ringing and crawling insane, Rabbles exotic to stranger-gods praying, Jumbles of odour that stifle the brain. Legions of cats from the alleys nocturnal. Howling and lean in the glare of the moon, Screaming the future with mouthings infernal, Yelling the Garden of Pluto's red rune. Tall towers and pyramids ivy'd and crumbling, Bats that swoop low in the weed-cumber'd streets; Bleak Arkham bridges o'er rivers whose rumbling Joins with no voice as the thick horde retreats. Belfries that buckle against the moon totter, Caverns whose mouths are by mosses effac'd, And living to answer the wind and the water, Only the lean cats that howl in the wastes.
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15.8k
The Cats
Let me tell you a secret nobody knows I'm insecure, I hate myself, I don't see myself pretty, I'm a mess Mess up in the head Standing in front of you, my mind keeps on running and running and running away From logic and reason I wish I have now I'm under this great pressure I made myself I can't lift it up, it just keep on, in on, in on crashing every faith in myself and chain every part of me Blinding my eyes Sealing my mouth Killing me slowly inside And I can't breath seeing my reflection in the mirror I'm sick of it I keep on saying, I keep on screaming I keep on crying, I keep on wishing I keep on praying to be like them but even the shooting star can't change that How do you run from what's in your head? I can't free myself from my insecurities I'm embarrassed, I've become a mess, I've become a hater It keeps on destroying myself inside and I can't take it out of my mind Every second, every minute, every moment of my life Is slowly becoming something my jealousy made I started to hate myself I started to hate the people I'm jealous of Because I want to be like them   Pretty, Confident, Intelligent, Proud and Shinning Everything I ever wanted, but I can never be like them, I can never be them I'm like an unfit puzzle piece of the society I want to fit in My jealousy, my insecurities made me into someone I despise Hatred for myself runs in my veins Everything I stand for just disappeared into the oblivion like bubbles disappearing  into the thin air And I'm becoming trap in my own twisted world without realizing it As it drowns me, pulling me with its current to the darkness of my tainted mind Its just a matter of time I might breakdown Everyday I keep on telling myself be strong, be strong, be strong stop being insecure, but I don't have the strength to do it I don't have the courage to tell it to my friends, to my family I'm dying inside- I want them to see through me and when I lie - I'm fine they'll believe it without a doubt I want to share it to the world, but I can't help myself to lie, to push everyone away - I've become a fool I know it sounds crazy, I myself don't know why I just want people to realize I need help without me telling them I want them to save me from my own tainted mind full of insecurities I want you to save me from my own tainted mind full of insecurities Can you do it? Because I can't.
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Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 2:55 AM UTC
Secret
Let me tell you a secret nobody knows I'm insecure, I hate myself, I don't see myself pretty, I'm a mess Mess up in the head Standing in front of you, my mind keeps on running and running and running away From logic and reason I wish I have now I'm under this great pressure I made myself I can't lift it up, it just keep on, in on, in on crashing every faith in myself and chain every part of me Blinding my eyes Sealing my mouth Killing me slowly inside And I can't breath seeing my reflection in the mirror I'm sick of it I keep on saying, I keep on screaming I keep on crying, I keep on wishing I keep on praying to be like them but even the shooting star can't change that How do you run from what's in your head? I can't free myself from my insecurities I'm embarrassed, I've become a mess, I've become a hater It keeps on destroying myself inside and I can't take it out of my mind Every second, every minute, every moment of my life Is slowly becoming something my jealousy made I started to hate myself I started to hate the people I'm jealous of Because I want to be like them   Pretty, Confident, Intelligent, Proud and Shinning Everything I ever wanted, but I can never be like them, I can never be them I'm like an unfit puzzle piece of the society I want to fit in My jealousy, my insecurities made me into someone I despise Hatred for myself runs in my veins Everything I stand for just disappeared into the oblivion like bubbles disappearing  into the thin air And I'm becoming trap in my own twisted world without realizing it As it drowns me, pulling me with its current to the darkness of my tainted mind Its just a matter of time I might breakdown Everyday I keep on telling myself be strong, be strong, be strong stop being insecure, but I don't have the strength to do it I don't have the courage to tell it to my friends, to my family I'm dying inside- I want them to see through me and when I lie - I'm fine they'll believe it without a doubt I want to share it to the world, but I can't help myself to lie, to push everyone away - I've become a fool I know it sounds crazy, I myself don't know why I just want people to realize I need help without me telling them I want them to save me from my own tainted mind full of insecurities I want you to save me from my own tainted mind full of insecurities Can you do it? Because I can't.
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49
Fabricated. Fictitious. A fake floating feeling Falls short Of my fleeting fantasy. This insidious infirmity Isn't what I intended. I've been inflicted With internal indisposition. In need of an ideal identity. Who am I without This ****** to make me whole? How do I heave my heart Away from this hole? Have you seen how hard this is? But it's been short of a year, Of believing I can simply be. And before I break Bleed me of my bane. And for me, bear no malice. Tightly take me Away from my terible tempest. Time tells me it's time to stop. Too long I've tortured my tenemet. Tame the tantrum tearing through me. Sober seems strong, But it's systematic survival. Stopping the surrender To something stimulating. Learning to stand sedated. No I'm no longer numb. No longer neglecting my need For new novcane. Knowing I'll never need This vaccine again. You are all my ambition. Dispelling my ailments And afflictions. I am hard to adore, I know. You are my new addiction. You have me dreaming, Praying we are real. Made me feel. Don't decieve my brittle belief. Keep me, don't leave. I'm not the kind to fly. For you i'd try to dive. Unafraid I might die. I don't hide from the night. This is what I've been trying to find.
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May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 9:59 AM UTC
Tip of the tongue the teeth and the lips
The blue necklace... The sun is laughing and shining Oh God, Why are you so powerless ? I implant the fish in the sea The whales implant the trees in the oceans My golden earrings were lost His eyes were not blue My blue necklace is beautiful My mother's eyes are more beautiful for knowing Gandhi as a good leader And ****** as a bad one and I'm just scared of fame The poet stacks on the words in such a way that even he himself doesn't know what is he saying The society is always colorful But my eyes are black and white I was praying for the death of my mom, my sister or me ''Jasmine'' Mom! Are The Clouds whiter up there in the sky?! گردنبند آبی خورشید می خندد و می درخشد ...خدایا تو چرا هیچ قدرتی نداری!؟ من ماهی ها را در دریا می کارم نهنگ ها در اقیانوس درخت می کارند گوشواره های طلایی من گم شد چشمان او آبی نبود گردنبند آبی من زیباست چشم های مادر من زیبا تر است که گاندی را رهبری خوب می دانند و هیتلر را بد و من فقط از شهرت می ترسم شاعر آنقدر کلمات را روی هم می چیند که حتی خودش هم نمی داند چی می گوید جامعه همیشه رنگارنگ است و چشم های من سیاه و سفید دعا می کردم کاش مادرم مرده بود یا خواهرم خودم ''یاسمن'' !مامان اون بالا تو آسمون ابرها سفید تراند!؟
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Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 10:05 AM UTC
Jasmine's blue necklace گردنبند آبی یاسمن
The blue necklace... The sun is laughing and shining Oh God, Why are you so powerless ? I implant the fish in the sea The whales implant the trees in the oceans My golden earrings were lost His eyes were not blue My blue necklace is beautiful My mother's eyes are more beautiful for knowing Gandhi as a good leader And ****** as a bad one and I'm just scared of fame The poet stacks on the words in such a way that even he himself doesn't know what is he saying The society is always colorful But my eyes are black and white I was praying for the death of my mom, my sister or me ''Jasmine'' Mom! Are The Clouds whiter up there in the sky?! گردنبند آبی خورشید می خندد و می درخشد ...خدایا تو چرا هیچ قدرتی نداری!؟ من ماهی ها را در دریا می کارم نهنگ ها در اقیانوس درخت می کارند گوشواره های طلایی من گم شد چشمان او آبی نبود گردنبند آبی من زیباست چشم های مادر من زیبا تر است که گاندی را رهبری خوب می دانند و هیتلر را بد و من فقط از شهرت می ترسم شاعر آنقدر کلمات را روی هم می چیند که حتی خودش هم نمی داند چی می گوید جامعه همیشه رنگارنگ است و چشم های من سیاه و سفید دعا می کردم کاش مادرم مرده بود یا خواهرم خودم ''یاسمن'' !مامان اون بالا تو آسمون ابرها سفید تراند!؟
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56
I have a dream & some desires, Let there be contentment for me, And no one should have for me, ire. My list of desires isn't endless, I actually require, not just need, her, And for meeting her family's, particularly her father's, expectations. When I'll have her in the delivery room, Then I will just be praying to time, And wishing our combined life to be peacefully happy and content extremely.
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Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 12:36 PM UTC
Dream & Desires
What's up is the sky and I'm up for the stars and down for a cave expedition. I'm game for a used copy since time is literally killing me while I got pizza in one hand and an energy drink in the other so the tree that is my life goes chop chop chop. The only chip on my shoulder is a potato chip because I got a dozen for every dime I spent, which is a drop in the bucket of change I'm saving for Coinstar. My son Jack has made many trades, from CDs to movies to videogames to trading cards and he just so happens to be a Pokemon master, thank you very much. Resisting a piece of cake is no piece of cake, even when the recipe --complete with a photogenic picture-- is comprised of over a thousand words. Don't cheat on your diet, the spinach is always watching and that Rolex will feel so tight you'll be praying for thousands of slaps on both wrists. When things get hot you can bang against a clock to see how long you last. Just don't crack 'em up too much, clocks are fragile devices. My motor's a Cobia yours is an Evinrude but otherwise we're in the same boat. Whenever I fail I don't go to the drawing board, I get out my scrap book. I prefer its texture and it is, truly, the first square. When my frustration becomes too much I might have to beat the bush instead, after all it can't be a sightseer forever. Don't throw me a bone, I'm not dog, merely a curious cat still on his seventh life. I'd rather be close than be stuck with a cigar-- smoking's bad and I hate the smells. If I'm left with nothing, I'll cry like a wolf. Wolves are hunters, wolves are survivors.
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Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 12:16 AM UTC
Idiom
What's up is the sky and I'm up for the stars and down for a cave expedition. I'm game for a used copy since time is literally killing me while I got pizza in one hand and an energy drink in the other so the tree that is my life goes chop chop chop. The only chip on my shoulder is a potato chip because I got a dozen for every dime I spent, which is a drop in the bucket of change I'm saving for Coinstar. My son Jack has made many trades, from CDs to movies to videogames to trading cards and he just so happens to be a Pokemon master, thank you very much. Resisting a piece of cake is no piece of cake, even when the recipe --complete with a photogenic picture-- is comprised of over a thousand words. Don't cheat on your diet, the spinach is always watching and that Rolex will feel so tight you'll be praying for thousands of slaps on both wrists. When things get hot you can bang against a clock to see how long you last. Just don't crack 'em up too much, clocks are fragile devices. My motor's a Cobia yours is an Evinrude but otherwise we're in the same boat. Whenever I fail I don't go to the drawing board, I get out my scrap book. I prefer its texture and it is, truly, the first square. When my frustration becomes too much I might have to beat the bush instead, after all it can't be a sightseer forever. Don't throw me a bone, I'm not dog, merely a curious cat still on his seventh life. I'd rather be close than be stuck with a cigar-- smoking's bad and I hate the smells. If I'm left with nothing, I'll cry like a wolf. Wolves are hunters, wolves are survivors.
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53
Most schools have projects, in science classes and such. Most of us, mastered the science of surviving in projects. It's those at the bottom who need the most help, but cant even get proper school supplies.. where's the logic ?. But oh, the rags to riches story is prevalent isn't it? Nope, the only rich I know is Professor Richard. And that's not even something worth mentioning, he does more lessening than lessons lets paint the picture.. But these young kids don't understand, they try to curse them, place them in prisons, its a trap from birth.. Give them these Rick Rosses as role models, knowing they don't have fathers, instead of Tupac Shakur, showing them worth.. My bestfriend Tony once questioned his dark skin, just like i once questioned my brown. how profound, a couple 4th graders at the time, having to prove that they were "down". Crazy how Tony proved he was down, now i visit his site yearly on November the third. And things aren't getting better, but nobody gives a **** haven't you heard.. The prayers our mothers chant, ritually every night. Praying to the Sun gods, perhaps one day we'll all unite. -afj
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Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 8:34 AM UTC
Melanin Societies.
I used to pray that I’d never be loved by anyone I couldn’t love back, but then I remembered how many mountains I grew strong enough to climb when you didn’t love me back and I realized that there’s no use in praying for the absence of pain because it will always find you whether it be through sunburn or aching silence and broken bones grow back stronger so I won’t pray you’ll never get hurt I’ll pray you clean out the cuts on your elbows and learn to not pick at the scabs on your knees and that you’ll stand up more times than the wind knocks you down And that you’ll find ways to appreciate the circles beneath your eyes, but still hold onto the hope that one day you will count your scars and smile because you are proud of how far you’ve come and how much you’ve grown, and you’re not just surviving, you are alive.
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Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 10:29 PM UTC
maybe we get hurt just to heal
We had never even talked; I really only knew of you. We passed by each other in the hallways, Consumed by all we had to do. Now, three years later, I suddenly discover you are gone... Makes me wonder if we had been friends, Could you have found the will to carry on? Maybe just a weak "hello" Or a smile of silent understanding Could have been enough to keep you here When life had gotten more demanding. I wonder if my friendship Could have simply helped you to know That life is hard for all of us And that you were not alone. The feelings must have been raw, As the voices in your head got louder. Maybe if you could have foreseen the fallout You would have lived your life a little prouder. I don't know what you went through And I probably wouldn't have been a huge difference But perhaps, for you, I could have been Some sort of interference. I'm praying for your families-- Because I wish you knew that you had two. There was the one with the same last name But also those friends who chose to love you. I wish that you could see How much everyone here is grieving Asking what more they could have done Just to keep you from leaving. And I am sorry I couldn't help you That you felt there was no other way-- And I wish I had given you a bit more thought Than just finding out the other day. Even though I didn't help you I just wanted you to see: In one day, you touched so many lives-- One of those being me.
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Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 5:19 AM UTC
Eulogy for a Classmate
Is there tear gas in this room? Because I can't stop crying The gas crawls down my esophagus And crushes my wounded heart. “God this hurts” I keep typing, Praying to computer screen That I'll forget the smell of your hair I type till my fingers bleed So I can forget what your touch feels like How our lips fit perfectly together. “God I hate myself” The only phrase I think of When I'm pleading for things to back to normal Back to the days Where you didn't want to to crack open my skull And see all of the ugly things That drift around my cranium “Baby please I'm sorry. I’m a mess, A klutz, who waltzes around with stupidity Baby I get this feeling in my head When you are not around I want to keep writing you these love letters By sliding them under your doors called your eyelids” But I can’t I sit alone in the bus called life Looking across my seat I see you, my love Holding onto the bar Your pretty Blue headlights That make me drawn to you Your pretty Blue headlights Covered with the rain I caused I'm a rain man, you see, when people get close to me I get scared And force the skies rain to tears with pain. The only thing that floats in my mind Is that I hope the man of you life Buys you flowers Sunflowers especially And shows up to your work unexpectedly. I hope you can travel to Paris and keep a long list of all of the countries you've cuddled in. With him. I hope you he can handle seeing the stars From your eyes every time you guys cuddle Under the moon light. I hope he can teach you how to slow dance And I hope that he can teach me On how to be a better man.
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Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 12:38 AM UTC
Klutz
Is there tear gas in this room? Because I can't stop crying The gas crawls down my esophagus And crushes my wounded heart. “God this hurts” I keep typing, Praying to computer screen That I'll forget the smell of your hair I type till my fingers bleed So I can forget what your touch feels like How our lips fit perfectly together. “God I hate myself” The only phrase I think of When I'm pleading for things to back to normal Back to the days Where you didn't want to to crack open my skull And see all of the ugly things That drift around my cranium “Baby please I'm sorry. I’m a mess, A klutz, who waltzes around with stupidity Baby I get this feeling in my head When you are not around I want to keep writing you these love letters By sliding them under your doors called your eyelids” But I can’t I sit alone in the bus called life Looking across my seat I see you, my love Holding onto the bar Your pretty Blue headlights That make me drawn to you Your pretty Blue headlights Covered with the rain I caused I'm a rain man, you see, when people get close to me I get scared And force the skies rain to tears with pain. The only thing that floats in my mind Is that I hope the man of you life Buys you flowers Sunflowers especially And shows up to your work unexpectedly. I hope you can travel to Paris and keep a long list of all of the countries you've cuddled in. With him. I hope you he can handle seeing the stars From your eyes every time you guys cuddle Under the moon light. I hope he can teach you how to slow dance And I hope that he can teach me On how to be a better man.
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52
Ramadan is here, so lets all fast, it's the ninth month of the year, lets make it last. When you see the Ramadan Moon, up in the sky so bright, you need to get ready, to pray all throughout the night. Now that Isha has passed, lets get up in congregation, to pray Taraweeh, with the Muslim nation. Ramadan is here, so lets all fast, it's the ninth month of the year, lets make it last. The first ten days are upon us, so we need to avoid what's wrong, keep good intentions, all day long. It's the middle days now when there's things to buy and your phone rings, don't let these worldly matters, distract you from doing the right things. Ramadan is here, so lets all fast, it's the ninth month of the year, lets make it last. Now it's the last ten days, lets stay in the mosque for long, lets do may good deeds, and avoid what is wrong. Lal a tul Qadr is upon us, it's the Night of Power, let's start praying the Allah(subhanawataallah), throughout the night for every hour. Ramadan is here, so lets all fast, it's the ninth month of the year, lets make it last. Ramadan isn't forever, so lets do what is right, avoid doing bad, with all our might. Ramadan is here, so lets all fast, it's the ninth month of the year, lets make it last.
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Dec 21, 2020
Dec 21, 2020 at 2:02 PM UTC
Ramadan
Isn't it funny, That you want things You dont have, and have things you don't want. And you spend your time praying, Trying to justify sin And pass it off as love. We get this idea in our heads, That we aren't meant to be alone. That the only point in life Is to find someone to make you Feel complete. But if you need someone to fill you, Isn't that just like putting a bandaid Over a bullethole? There's always the possibility Of love leaving, Of having empty spaces again? I think its more important to Complete yourself. People come and go like seasons. But you will always be stuck With yourself. So live and love as hard as you can. As passionately as you can. And remember that the last persons Voice you'll hear when you lie Down to drift off into eternal sleep, Is your own.
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Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 12:21 PM UTC
One Love.