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Tanay Sengupta Oct 2018
They were young and in love.
They didn't know, what it was
All a game of push and shove.

Smoking up and gazing at the stars above.
Without any reason, or any cause
They were young and in love.

Black dress and a leathered glove.
That one night, inside the bus
All a game of push and shove.

Like a pair of doves.
Always sticking together, because
They were young and in love.

Maybe in their naivety, they knew love.
Maybe it was better when it was
All a game of push and shove.

Maybe the river of lust flows to the ocean of love.
To them, it didn't matter, what it was
They were young and in love.
All a game of push and shove.












Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018.
All Rights Reserved
I am often accused of not writing anything naughty. So, I thought of giving it a try. Happy reading!
Tanay Sengupta Sep 2018
As the moon shines
And the stars decorate the sky,
A lonely owl hymns
While the bats fly.
Lightning bugs scatter around
Like will-o'-the-wisps at night,
Without any sound
Oh, what a delight!
The neighbour's hound is on guard
She will not allow anyone to pass,
No one is allowed in her yard
At this hour, only a fool will walk on her grass.
Her howl pierces the air
Bringing an end to the silence,
She announces she won't share
She will not tolerate any form of violence.
Across the street, few floors above
Two players are taking their turns,
In the famous game of push and shove
While a tiny candle burns.













Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018.
All Rights Reserved
As usual, I will not explain this poem. I think it is evident by now that I won't explain any of my poems to you. I want you to perceive it the way you want to. Happy reading!
laura Mar 2018
put it on me, lick me like a lollipoppy
popping money in my skinny jeans
learned my love life from the movies

just got my heart back from my main squeeze
and i'll wear it inside out
as long as you promise to break me from myself
no one remembers 3oh!3

(bet angela won't light this)
Mom I wish I could be that dancer
I wish I never heard of cancer
I wish I was that girl everyone wants to be
I wish the ones who are closest weren’t the ones to leave.
I wish we could just pick up the phone
I wish I didn’t feel so alone.

I wish you could just love me faults and all
Every yell is a push, you push and I fall
Fall into reality, this haunting depression
Into tears & pain and my obsession.

I live in a world where my dreams are in control
I’m always happy and my heart never stole
Life is perfect and it all works out
Reality is something I live without.

I’ve got “the boy”, the ladies pay attention
The “good job” grades & what is detention
High on a pedestal daydreaming away
All my wishes, all my way.
But I snap back to reality if you tap or you call
Every time you push me, you push and I fall.
Read more at http://www.******-in-oncology.com
AIA Nov 2015
I try to hold on but he let go of me.
I try to walk with him but he ran away.
I try to stay but he just pushed me away.
I try to fight but he told me to surrender.
I try to move on but, I can't.
Tawana Chiwo Aug 2018
Death he follows me wherever I go Werther it be in the depths of the forest
Or the deepest of seas death he follows me wherever I go.
He follows me in my dreams painted with the face of an angel
As we dance on the dirt of the earth, death it follows me wherever I go.
He follows me into the darkness and covers me with sadness, I tell him I don’t want him while he screams that he loves me death follows me wherever I go.
He lays next to me as I wake and sings songs of the days to come, death he follows me wherever I go.
He wraps his arms around my body and bores his fingers in my soul, death he follows me wherever I go.
He whispers in my ear when I try to speak and wraps his hands around my throat death he follows me wherever I go.
He lays on top of me as I sleep running his wicked finger down my body death he follows me wherever I go.
He pushed himself into my life and I fell in love with him. Death I follow him wherever he goes.
This poem is about falling in love with who I truly am instead of hiding under a ruse and being the person people want me to be or doing what people expect of me. At the same time, it is also about my anxiety and how it feels at times just having a large looming shadow over me.
Katie V-W Jan 15
I write
Rite
Right?
Rights?
Who's right?
Who has rights?

Promote
Rite
Mute

To write
To rite
To mute
To fight
To right!
Too right?
Tight!
Too tight?
Tight.
Lack of sight.
That’s a slight
Feeling some plight,
Wanting to take flight.
Is that right?
Right.
Rite
Written rite
Steve Page Feb 4
A TEAM SPORT

[In the voice of your favourite over-excited rugby commentator.]

We're inside the final quarter. We've seen a bone-cruncher of a contest today and there's no sign of a let up, the prayers gather for the next engagement, positioning themselves with practiced confidence, skillfully supporting each other, ready for the push.  You can see every knee and each hand bears the marks from this long muddied pray, red and brown staining every inch of their entwined limbs; - arms and hands holding fast.

Front row.
Second row.
Back row.
Digging in for the big push.

The opposition has played an intelligent game, taking advantage of any lapse in concentration, any sign of tiredness, looking for any weakness to exploit.  The prayers know they can't afford any slips now, they need to keep up the pressure, maintain their advance deep in the opposition's half.  Every yard of gained ground needs to be defended.

The prayers' Coach looks on - look at his smile! You can see the pride he has for his team, he's schooled them on every tactic of the opposition and now that training, that practice has paid dividends. This is a team of prayers that so clearly know each other well, supporting each other every step of the way. You can see their co-ordinated pray, their sustained effort and the sheer pleasure they feel when they are praying together.

The prayers drive on.  The sound of their groans and deep breaths merge into one. There's a rhythm to it, a cadence as together they push and PUSH. 

The opposition's footing is slipping, the prayers' momentum gains pace and, YES! the resistance collapses.  Oh, that must have hurt!

But there's no time for complacency, the prayers re-form their line looking for the next opening, the next opportunity to push forward.

This is a joy to see.  The Coach shouts his encouragement - this was never going to be an easy struggle; you can't dismiss the opposition - they are a seasoned though sometimes disorganised team and they can take you by surprise.  But as we've seen here today, the Coach knows that if his team of prayers keep to the plan and pray to their strengths, the opposition are surely in for a hiding. The prayers will triumph and they will take the winners' crown.
- Back to you in the studio.
Inspired by the Six Nations tournament
Pauline Dec 2018
I push and push and shove
but you don't budge

when i scream, you whisper.
when i cry, you hold me.
when i speak, you listen.

i attempt to push you over the edge
but i never seem to get you there

so i wonder...
        why aren't you running as fast as you can love?
and i realize...
       that when you told me that you would pick me up when i couldn't stand
its because you meant it.

so thank you for speaking softly, holding me tightly and listening attentively.

and for being extremely patient with me even when im not patient with myself.
Heart flutters
Mind stutters the words
that I want to mutter
Another chance, perhaps
another

Your presence
Completes my puzzle of life
Makes me feel like
a picture whole, rather than
a piece of society’s
ever-changing mural

We intertwine
Grapes of love and hate
on emotional vines
Relishing these fleeting
moments
one day at a time

Your presence
Completes my
mysterious existence
Makes me feel like
a human empowered,
rather than
another person going
thru the motions of life



Melody
3/7/19
Love is profound.
B L Jul 2018
The difference between actions and habits,
     is often measured by the person you're asking.  
One bump, one line, one half ounce...
All shared by people you don't even give a **** about.

These chemicals make me sick --
              Limitless...Why quit?
              When it's only ten bucks for a hit like this?
Even Jesus Christ would have gotten addicted,
              if drugs in his day were half this good.

"Yeah, I'm smashed -- but I promise I can drive fine."
      Walk and push the limits of a real fine line...
If I don't **** myself, or someone else... I'm happy.
       Stare death in his eyes, wink, and start laughing.

Gasping as I swerve lanes --
Stay safe, get paid. Mundane daily.
Living a-live.. Eat. Sleep. Dream. Get laid.  
Chase feelings.

           Please, just feel me now.
                                    You know me, right?

           Please, just feel me now.
                                    You love me, right?

I want to melt with you -- let our souls collide...
Dissolve the boundaries between students and teachers.
        To bridge the gap in the great divide
        No secrets between us -- bleed into the speakers.

Feel the air in your chest, and ask God for a reason...
To stay or leave Him.
He makes excuses...

                                                     ­      ... Believe Him.
CK Baker Jan 2018
who lit the candles
placed eloquently
behind purple rock?
the sculpted radiance,
chapel grace
wound in a chosen
defined way
down the spiral
stone stairs

street cars dawdle
alongside
the packer slew
biding merchants
and frontmen
shuffle their wares
as the madman
and pock face
sing their
holy blues

cut jazz echoes
over the accompanying
gabble and drone
incense and haze
pour from
a lower trap door
sack fish, truffles
and splendid crafts shine
inside the stained glass fronts

a wide mouth snapper
with a bloated tongue
greets the
morning tide
(not camera shy
in the least!)
the fish traps
and beaneries
bring life
to the flourishing causeway

hula hoops
and ballers
join the
cobaine stage
favoured rogues
and mac jacks
speak easy
of the big daddy

beth’s triple by pass
taking firm hold on
tricky ****
and the nutcracker
maze ways,
taggers and
lost tunnels
of cu chi
strike a
nerving blow

a poised finger man
belts out his tune
(with a sniff sock
and iterating glare)
his nosey neighbors
cut artisan bread
(with a white wine
and jelly spread)
midwives push forward
for an afternoon
toddle and stroll
hj May 8
go away
my lips say
but my heart says differently
I don't wanna see ur face
I say
but I know I want you to stay anyway
I wish I could just translate my love to you through touch
u would've never felt empty
my mind goes crazy
I push u away
I keep pushing u away
but my heart
I swear
whenever I say
what I say
it screams
plz stay
Janelise Jan 7
You snuck into my heart.

With sweet smiles and
Chocolate ice cream covered kisses.

One day we were separate,
The next, far too intimate.

One night, you held me while i spilled, all over you, on to the floor.

I remember it like it was yesterday
And I want to push it out of my brain.

And yet the moment remains treasured, anyway.
JayceeJellies Oct 2014
That silly feeling inside,
Bubbly or fluttery?
I can't decide.
It's as if a million butterflies are just there,
Underneath your skin tickling you without a care,
They want you to know that these feelings are rare.
Embrace them don't push them.
Just let them happen.
V liv Nov 2018
You didn't even give me a chance
You made the decision for us both
By yourself
Disregard
Autonomous
Tyrannical decision maker
Do you still want this?
"Yes"
Then why
Why push me
Why pull me closer just to toss me away
Harder
Faster
Softer?
Is it your belief that the longer you wait the less it will hurt?
Sorry to break it to you but you have it inverse
I am
Broken
Tired
Confused
observation
lady in red
imagination
in my head
flirtation
“someone said,
in a book I read,
that men are misled:
beauty kills us dead.”
frustration
get out of my head!
jubilation
“To where shall we head?”
hesitation
“my creaky twin
or a hotel bed?”
migration
our minds are led
by hurried legs
pulsation
as her lips, red,
push me to the bed
excitation
tinged with dread
salivation
ventilation
transpiration
saturation
*******­
annihilation
Rapped version: https://vimeo.com/286097673
(password is "stand").
awknight Oct 2018
the push of my mind
falls into lavender fields
velvet night brushes against cheek bones
exposed skin floats in time
ecstasy is exposed through the flow of cold

the day unveils things too warm
instead, fall with me into the dark
as my mind incandescently
illuminates the world
Autumn moves fast through the tunnel of love
Push from the top; bottom falls from above
Dangling leaves are flexing about
Dreaming of hope is a nightmarish shout

Cackle of ghouls; a shivering spine
All that is due will be due in due time
Whispering wind softly kisses my cheek
Lifetime of searching; know not what I seek

Darkness emerges as light fades away
Tried to hold on knowing no one can stay
Feeling alive only once I am dead
Listen but don't hear a word that is said

Roar of a flame, the warmth of the light
Fireball streaks interrupting the night
From the ashes we rose and to dust we return
Heart made of ice will not sooth what’s been burned

Holding my breath and not rising for air
Promise to no one the nothing I share
Hugging and squeezing a cuddly toy
Faded reminder when I was a boy

Roar of a racing car traveling fast
Linear stories that live in the past
Afternoon stroll through the paths in the woods
Wasn't enough when it’s all that I could

Didn't regret not regretting a thing
Perfectly still while I sit on the swing
Lazy and careless; the problem I tackle
Chained here forever without any shackles

Future and past presently now amuck
Free man who's also imprisoned and stuck
Roaring, the waves speaking softly to me
Shouting a message using secrecy

Cackling rooster call to end the day
Adult you become but your parents can't stay
Ending's begun and beginning ends near
Enveloped in fog; then it all became clear

Through stutter and stammer, I clearly can speak
World’s strongest man; I am fearful and weak
Worldly observer, I travel through life
Don't leave my house; Live alone with no wife

Peacock with confidence strutting my stuff
Have had my fill but not yet had enough
Nothing I fear but much fear have for it
Blowing out candles that never were lit

Bellowing cheers of "hip-hip hooray!"
Round of applauds for those who've died today
Subtle of strikes from a blatant attack
Gift you are given; already took back

Slapped with audacity right in the face
Composed with the utmost politeness and grace
Then without allergy, still my body reacts
Calmly I sit through a panic attack

Telling a lie until it becomes truth
Speaking with stature his words are uncouth
Deafening silence rang shots from the gun
Finished a race that has not yet begun

"Rule" one time "Golden", now covered in rust
Did what was needed but not what I must
You can be anything but yet nothing you are
Traveling often but didn't go far

Properly set for no expectations
Biased perception began at creation
Feet on the ground and head in the clouds
On display while naked and exposed in my shroud
Written - April 6, 2017

All rights reserved.
When poets ****
Does it make a fantastical sound
With each plop that they drop is there something profound
Do they get it done quickly with steadfast persistence
Or do they sit there for hours pondering their existence

When poets ****
Is each movement perfected
Or do they just sit and bear down till the poo is ejected
Do they search for deep meaning upon the bowl's murky waters
Or imagine it filled with colorful fishes and otters

When poets ****
Do they wipe as the non-poets do
Or do they defy the norm (side to side?) in the loo
Does it make them depressed, feel down in the pits
Or are most poets joyously taking their sh*ts

When poets ****
Is it melodramatic
Each push pause or squeak intentionally emphatic
Please forgive my crassness (I'm just stuck in a loop)
As I can't help but wonder how poets go ****
Again, sorry. Sometimes, they just write themselves and don't listen to us
Katie V-W Jan 15
Stitching, embedding, encasing it in,
binding stories
entombed into work
to speak for itself.
Be unseen while being seen,
read less of me,
read my visual language.
                                                                                           Don't understand?
                                                                                  That's not my problem.

I'll dilute it for you,
                  a sprinkle of me to
                                                                    digest.

Maintain the intensity,
judgement on women, expected,
                                         judgement from society, a given.

Sacrifice for it
sacrifice all of it
it does not matter
                                         just the work.

Want them.
Want me.
They are commodities
                                         I am a commodity.
                                     Consume me.
Sara Kellie Jun 2018
The head fuckery of societies rules.
The indoctrination in our schools
has led to the homeless on our streets while politicians count their seats.
The privileged few, too rich to mention
fail to reveal their true intention.

The NHS setup to break by psychopaths all on the take.
Big business stripped of all its gold,
no pension funds left for the old.
Big pharma, they don't miss a trick,
they're making you & I feel sick.
They push the pills that ring the tills
even though they know it kills.

With the best advice and greatest will
our kids are on **** & fentanyl.
While drinking water turns a son
into a daughter,
it's Atrazine that makes
a King a Queen.

While we're divided black & white,
we'd never stand up to their might
So take your neighbour, hold their hand and together we'll reclaim our land.

Poetry by Kaydee.
Utopia is a planet with no borders & free movement of a free people.
Beanie Dec 2018
i will not let this world push me down,
into oblivion,
into quiet submission.

no,
i will rear my head,
i will bite back,
i will roar at those who attempt to silence me.

i am fire and rage,
fighting for what i know is right,
and i will not let the people of this world
force me to swallow my words,
or silence my thunder.

i am strong,
the force of nature that the world needs
to fight for those who cannot fight.
i will not let this world push me down,
nor any others
for any longer.
AIA Nov 2015
Sorry
For texting you, for bugging you,
for annoying you.
for thinking of you day and night.
by being clingy and possessive.
for staying by your side every time you push me away.
Sorry I get worried about you.
for needing your attention,
for being needy to you.
Sorry for loving you.
I'm very sorry... I can't unlove you.
Stéphanie Aug 2018
I feel jailed in my own body
socially forced to conceive
emotionally sick
hurt within

Scared to transmit pain
in this age of depression
reminding my ancestors' culpability;
will I also hurt my descendant?

Struggling to finish a phd
in this age of precarity
thinking it might push me;
Or, will I fail it all?
We are proud individuals
who feed into bold lies
spoonfed like we're blind
through hands of our deceitful leaders
still they rise.

Technology is forever shoved in our face;
"hurry up n buy it!"
(before it reaches expiration date)
consuming gadgets at such a fast pace
may that be the devil
that determines our fait.

In the hands of the media we lay
side by side on a sinking ship they say
far, far and further away
we depart from real life
and sink into a screen of shame.

Our can fake a smile
but their tears don't lie.
and though we let them remain on those sites
we sit, we sigh
and spin our glasses of wine
all the while wondering why we see them
with blubbering hearts and watery eyes.

Our elderly generation
worked all their life
hoping in their older years
that they could relax for a while.
Instead they have to sit there
with frail hands and ghostly smiles
overlooking us poison the planet
and see it turn cold and vile.

We drink until our heart is liquor
we love until our love turns bitter
our emptiness then begins to spread-
until on the inside we all go dead-
and it spreads quickly
and painfully
like the plague
and everyone is too far gone to save.

"Men are to be machines"
We say with a hand on their shoulder
as we push them out the door
off to a war
which will scar them so much so
that they won't want to live anymore.
And while not even a trace of a scar
sits on their skin,
the blood which seeps from their bleeding hearts
soaks and stains deep within.

Mass confusion;
we look to the sky
for the answers we need finding
within this cold society.
We disagree until we die
about matters of no relevance to you or I
but fury is the new joy
and may we fight until all is destroyed.

So many harsh whispers in the streets
so many expectations no one dares meet.
Some go insane
just to be the same
but just who is this madman
that we all aspire to be?
Does he have a name?
Has be ever been seen?

If now was your time to die
would you be happy
with the content of your life?
Or would you be regretful
that for the most part
you were entertaining society's lies.

If you're not happy with the way of human progression
then be the light in a sea of grey
and this horrible new game of life
you will no longer play
and instead serve now to define
a new society.



Jazmine MacIntyre
12.05.2019
Inspired by 'Iron Sky' by Paolo Nutini.
CK Baker Jan 2017
In time you’ll recover and absolve
push those scorned impressions aside
hammer down the jaded edges
and sing
that delightful commoners song
the one you sang so well
in what seems a lifetime ago

You really had it you know
that fiery disposition and nimble cunning
those butter chords and derelict style
we could see it -- we could all see it
it was all it took to turn the evening tide
(and rile that buck fever)
heads bashing
tongues lambasting
middle fingers high
and raising Cain on those may fly statesmen

There were no rules
when it came to your survival
no textbook rally or common bond
no structured songbird or bravado stage
you either made it, or laid it
“life by the *****” Mr. Poppy would say
a kaleidoscope of dreams
with rich colored imagery
hardened artisan seams
in a carefully woven motif

But something got lost in the needle point
something sinister and distorted took hold
the quirks and street genius
that were your lifeline
gave way to grunts
and squeals
and chilling night crawlers
the colors faded quickly
to a cold confining grey

There was no grace in the new world
no retribution or switch back
no salvation or accorded finale
only edged platforms of blackened steel
that kept you cased
in a silent vanquished cell
shivering cold with fear
night without day
all in the shadow of death

But time heals all
and the polish sneakers
and open sores are long gone
(though the roman nose and shallow cleft remain)
indeed the falconer beat the widow maker
this go around
and I’m hopeful it won’t happen again
and if it does you’ll see me
standing hand on heart
with that old verse in hand:

he ain’t tainted
or silly,
and most certainly
not forgotten…
he ain’t loony
or fixed,
or a product of his self-doing…
he’s just a straight shootin’ guy,
who had the most of it
figured out
So sorry you cannot accept me who I am.
So sorry that you always push me.
So sorry that you wanna change me and trying find defects.
So sorry you don't love.
I am so sorry.
But why I feel that sorrow?
It's not my fault.
I wish you can love me someday.
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