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Armand-DeamoJC Aug 2018
Darling what your words have claimed, is true. I have grown an affintity for you, and, but a mere fatuation would undermine my emotions for you. You could be as poor as the dictionary can describe it, but I would have no dispute with breaking bread on a futon in a one bedroom apartment, for my darling I would have you to share it with. I cannot explain in any way or word what linkage I feel towards you and what imminent, unborn quandry, disagreements or dilemas we might face. I'll be over and above to put those problems to their knees, shut them down and subjugate them. Eye, there will be exceptional recherche, eye there will be dissatisfactory and atrocious, but I vow to never slant in our interconnection. I'll stand by you during quandry and I'll stand by you in a war, because not only my heart that loves you so dearly, my soul has grown quite fond towards you, that never before have. And in all verity, I have gone far more than fall in love. I vow to preserve and protect thee love.
Better left alone
Cori MacNaughton Oct 2015
How can four computers
fail in the same way
simultaneously?
Ah, the joys of technology, which is wonderful - when it works.  ;-)
Twinkle Sep 2014
Sometimes I want to shut that drumming sound in my head
The pounding of bothering with everyone's problems
How easy it is to project your torment on others
But how difficult to hide it within and persevere

Like a loose cannon it shoots from your lips
Not concerned where it lands
In someone's bed or someone's hand
It blasts in their face and leave them anxious
Your worries have left your cushion
They've have now bedded in my mind's prison

I feel so ***** and robbed of my peace
Your problems you've cast on to me

Though I'd like to help
I've realized now it's getting a bit
It's become a habit for you
To send crytic clues in your worries
And wringing your hands in desperation

So for now I'll pretend my cup's full too
My mind's occupied and I need my space
I can't jump in for your every whim
Give my life to run around your din.

Then you'll get angry for not helping you
You label me as terrible and bad mouth me
But seriously I care a flying rat's ***
Your problems are your making
Your mind is a cesspool of worries
It's never going to end
Till on your internal reserves you learn to depend
Sometimes people take our empathetic nature too much for granted and saddle us with their worries and continuous banter of how things are difficult for them.  They just fail to be thankful for things around them and depend so much on others draining the lives of those who choose to help them.
allsmallletters Mar 2019
Forget the onion and all its layers
thats obvious
You are undeserving for such a cliché
So I invite a different perspective
Think of a base, flour and egg kneaded together like I need you,
so dense in identical morals
Folded with mirrored ideology of future fortuity
Dipped sensually with a sauce so thick,
Thicker than blood or water,
Blended as one to create a sea of red as deep as our hearts pumping vitality
Sprinkled softly with the most palatable, mouth watering mozzarella
Each placing full of utter affection,
Long lost stares while you sit innocent to me feasting my eyes upon your moreish persona.
The only quandry we must face is whose decision that day of toppings to showcase
Who gets the chance to tease additional flavours, delicious tasters
To open eyes to attributes unseen before,
Hopes set high to electrify taste buds
Wanting the other to crave more

Ingredients brought together for a flavoursome pizza
You are my hawaiian
As i,
Your meatfeast.

Opposing trimmings
Eachothers 1st choice
One anothers perfection to quench their dying hunger
The anaolgy I concoted best used to describe my relationship.
My partner and I have opposite interests, humour, and past times,
but we sit firmly in a body of identical morals, integrity and honour, mirroring each others.
A pizza is nothing without a strong base.
Toppings can be changed and mixed to any combination.
The base is the structure of our love, ***** and rigid.
The toppings are interchangeable extras that we diversify daily to develop and grow together.
Nameless Nov 2013
Come sit with me
in the velvet textured
yellow flower petals
and whisper the words
that the stars never speak.

the vast blackness of the night sky
holds me tightly
and gazes at the colors surrounding your heart
in a way that makes even me jealous.

and if my face appears
in your dreams tonight my love,
would you recognize it?
Emily Nov 2018
Pursuing new things.
Focusing poorly on life’s routines.

Losing the novelty.
Struggling to maintain new habits.

Missing long conversations.
Craving unceasing attention.

Struggling now.
Disappointing failures.

Fearing novelty alone drew me.
Longing to know what’s best.
Most things seem perfect at the start, but when the novelty wears off one starts to wonder if they’re worth pursuing after all.
Ken Pepiton Sep 2019
Did I ever ride one of these casino busses?
That's how I met my wife.

Is this weird enough?
seven measured spans of ten plus some,
this bit, this collection of second chances,
in how many?
in ever,
how many spans of tens have passed, without me?
or,
without the star stuff Sagan says  
I am made of?

or I am made? I was.

That's the measure of my worth,

nay, I say.
Rue the day I told that lie

shall be my epitath, should I leave without
a-counting
them there ex
acted, mockinbird killin' days and ways we was

when we was
never governed, as a people, or a tribe.
as ids,
we was wild injuns, us kids was. we did as we pleased.

life was fine,
livin' by the river, you can imagine a cloud

occlusion of green greasewood smoke
softening a barely waking moon
four thumbs high at sundown

keeping fairy tales down low enough
that grandpas
can snag

-- and release and come back jack, right here
--to this dangling hook

and it's always gonna be this way

catch and release,

life's story your story goes on.
You never lose your place,

that's mortally impossible
to pose a

quandry
quandary (n.)"state of perplexity," 1570s, of unknown origin, perhaps a quasi-Latinism based on Latin quando"when? at what time?; at the time that, inasmuch," pronominal adverb of time, related to qui"who" (from PIE root *kwo-, stem of relative and interrogative pronouns). Originally accented on the second syllable.

pronomial adverb, eh?
Writers were warned away from adverbs,
back when grammar tyranny strained
at knots and gnostic gnats magi-ifical
add-on augmented at your own risc

made you notice
tech times change faster than Timex

Sinclair-- sorry, senility function was left on from earlier missions

Force-recon recollected war stories being moved permanently into fish story status before
legend adds a layer
of gloryshit
at funerals.

Reduced Instruction Set Chip, chip
chipping is
addiction diction
A.I. *** us a whole Yah bus win, it's
Free Play day at the Ol' Folk Home.

We sing old songs on the way to Viejas and
laugh about all we left in Vegas.
Thanks, dear reader, my sanity hinges on you, like the swing doors on the Longbranch
Nicholas Mar 2019
Fragile cosmos; not expanding but exploding what it wished were a
soulful, solitary display

All of His contemplations;
a quarry of quandry for
which the upper depths of
space are the baseline

Stars, no longer an expression of a
dying Son, ethearalize upon a canvas that can either
crush The Father

or remain
painted on the dark side of the
moon; a face mistaking it's
frown for a grin, nobody to correct him

Of His own volition;
a never-ending shift of balances

throwing Everyone into it's tantric evolution

Shotten wishes, raining onto the unawakened

Hushed gasps collapsing into
vacuous nothingness
Rambling spurred by an extended mediation on art and why we even create it to begin with.
Rational Daisies Aug 2014
Like the tortise came to
finish last you appeared

During a quandry where
I was already cornered
Looking up into the
hollowed and pale face of
failure, pereptual dissatisfaction

I felt you like the sun
wraps its arms around
a body dripping in frigid
lake water

after a jump into the
cool blue which seemed to
stop time

just so I could reach out to
grab your heart
before it could fall out  

I have you now
I've tied you into me

Where the time stopped
our souls got to sit together
for eternity
they would dance into each other

in celebration of our union
they saw the meaning before we did
and we didn't need much time to
notice it too

In this moment
I feel no fear

For the first time
I looked down into
the water and
it's *clear
8/18/14
2013/3/18

*This is part of a conversation between me and a girl. We both write poems back and forth to each other. This poem is in response to her asking if I was telling her how I felt about her "between the lines."


The language found between lines,
Is purposely caged within confines.
The tumult found within the head,
Leaves the best left unsaid.

Does it even matter that we see,
The words hidden in each degree?
What good would come if then,
We listened to the words within?

Maybe the best is better left,
Between the lines, thought bereft.
If you wanted to, you could express,
Those three words within your chest.

But how could I come to believe,
That I was not being deceived?
All the evidence poured out over months,
Has left me unsure of all the wants.

Maybe freedom of heart is close,
Maybe it is what I want most.
Even now, as I lie in bed,
I wonder at those, words left unsaid.

If you can decipher such curious rhymes,
And even still read between the lines,
Then you should understand my quandry.
And understand why I don't know if I'm free.

Because sometimes, no matter the rhyme,
There is nothing you can do this time.
Nothing will erase the past,
For me, acceptance will only come last.

If you can't imagine why I hold back,
Then perhaps take a small track.
Imagine it from my point of thought,
And maybe then you'll see why not.

If others read this, they would know me insane.
If they read ours, they would know pain.
If they read yours, they might not see your best,
But what they should see, you're a beautiful mess.

Again, for C
Marshal Gebbie Sep 2010
Twer it not for pain endured
Would pleasure not exist?
Twer it not for devilment
Would Godliness persist?

Without the surge of lust in life
Would children not be born?
Without the sound of laughter
Would there not be days forlorne?

How is it that the setting sun
Can bring forth tears of joy?
How is it that a wayward glance
Can join a girl and boy?

What is it in our makeup
That breeds the curse of war?
What weakness in our character
That cirumvents the law?

How is it that from ugliness
A beauty will emerge?
How is it on the tidal flow
That waves do ebb and surge?

What makes this child of human kind
A paradox reversed?
What lays the future out before
As history rehearsed?

How interesting this quandry
That circumscribes a man,
How nebulous the blueprint,
How juxtaposed the plan.


Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
25 September 2010
the calm that escapes me
waits for a space in the cloud
unabating
patient now
breaking down
building
creating
destroying and remaking
my mind up
How to
unlove you?
Do I have
to
****
a part of
me to do
it, or a
part of
you?
Copyright 2019. All rights reserved by the author
Kurt Philip Behm Sep 2019
The temperature frozen
Old sticks in the mud
New tracks are untrodden
Lost dreams from above
The raisins in darkness
All pits buried deep
The moon shines unfaithful
Recounting of sheep
The doctors watch broken
Your time shorter still
His prognosis a token
Beyond suture or pill
He asks if you’re ready
You say that you’re not
He asks if it matters
You ask if it ought
And into the night
You begin once again
To hurry the ending
To reach beyond blame
And all of the hate
You then leave behind
To warn all those jaded
Of what they’re never to find
"Partisan dreamer
Audience of one
Killer of grammar
Words on the run
Paragraph’s jilted
The undotted ‘I’
The meaning now freed
All language denied
Rhythm of opportunity
Children of hope
Seizing the moment
Not dropping the soap
Stretching the limits
Crossing the line
To beat a new cadence
Time begs to shine"
You want it to make sense
You want it to seem clear
As your feigned self importance
No longer precious or dear
But the only one caring
And that still in doubt
A mirrored reflection
Of what time has cast out
You head off to work
Your laser untagged
The morning unvetted
Coworkers who brag
The lunch break upon you
Again eating alone
The steak is served raw
Chewed right to the bone
The banter around you
Seems damning at best
The shroud that surrounds you
To defile or to bless
“You gain nothing by trying”
You gain nothing you say
As you then begin crying
For that one gone away
That girl in the tall grass
That girl in your arms
Went to be with another
When you bartered your charms
Her daughter is grown now
Some say looks like you
Could it be then you wonder
When the times were so few
You pay the cashier
As you walk slowly out
This bill had been dear
More than you had allowed
With the bone in your pocket
You head back to your desk
As the cry of a mockingbird
Decries and behests
Your pen running dry
As your mind starts to write
On your third eye a sty
Melding vision with sight
And its then that you notice
Hanging pink and in front
And you know that your future’s
A dog that can’t hunt
So you walk to his office
And sit down in the chair
You look at him soulless
And try not to care
He explains “That he’s sorry”
That “The timing’s not right”
He says that you’re valued
But be gone by tonight
As you clean out your desk
A new feeling partakes
You look up to the ceiling
Lost in all that’s at stake
And that feeling is good now
That feeling seems right
As the feeling then pushes
As the feeling alights
You decide now emboldened
To stop on the way home
At the house of that one
You left forever alone
You heard of divorce
You wonder how bad
The damage it left her
Was it worse than you had
As you slow down your car
She stands in the yard
As you speed up your heart
She says “Directions, how far”
She does not recognize you
Have you changed all that much
She looks at you puzzled
As you long for her touch
And you drive away empty
As you drive away cold
And you drive away blackened
From your heart to your soul
But your path is now clear
You’ve just one place to go
As those things that you feared
Have now falsely been shown
And you walk in her kitchen
The door never had locked
Standing there and still smitten
The one you thought had forgot
“Was that you in the car earlier
Was that you, really you
I couldn’t believe it
Because I still love you, I do”
A reward wrapped in burlap
The priciest kind
Where if never rejected
You are never to find
So make just one promise
To then promise again
To be true to your feelings
From beginning to end
"Sages and broomsticks
motherless pearls
Witches who threaten
fatherless girls
New curse of the ages
old grudges remain
A coven of stages
to hide from the rain
And the mark then of Satan
the touch of the Lord
To the death plated sunset
and the winner forlorn"
The trap in this quandry
which you must break out
As with all ***** laundry
to first burn and then shout
As the truth is not distant
a true word never feigned
And the peace that you’re seeking
still inside and unclaimed
So let go of the dogma
and the medals will melt
Your deck full of aces
all cards are redealt
But the moment is now
and the moment is clear
Once the moment is chosen
new joy spun from fear
So to those who will threaten
with eternity ******
Say “Away with your blasphemy
stop where you stand”
Your wings have resprouted
your eyes looking in
A new life has been started
—you’re blessed to begin

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)
I was once told by an old man
That life is about learning to deal with loss.
For a while I struggled to understand,
Filled with bitterness of the past, becoming cross.

Then one morning I had a moment of clarity,
And I was frustrated with this troublesome quandry no longer.
People say the truth is a rarity;
I find that hard to believe, for I know I have come out stronger.
Life is about learning.
JGuberman Apr 2020
The angel of death wears a MAGA hat
And commends the work
Of his marketing and rebranding director
As they synchronize
Their Apple Watches to close
The circles of hell.
The charnel house market is about to boom and
He’ll offer the best capacity at top dollar prices
He’ll pocket the profits and stiff the contractors unless they’re stiffs already.
Even the angel of death might have an ethical quandry with this.
Our differences fade at the cemetery gate
Where we’re being processed like bottles at a redemption center
Where It means nothing unless he can pocket the deposits
And crow about his ratings
about how he’s the best
And if you look for salvation behind an artificial tan
You might as well be dead already
Like the space behind those eyes.
Butch Decatoria May 2016
So
lonely even in celebrations craze
single and longing for just another taste
popular but carries sorrow in tow
a forced feeble smile he attempts to show
handsome yet always feels ugly below
he is a quandry unto himself, he is low
So
how to relieve this disbelieving stink
how to find that self adoration again
will anyone notice how deep he drinks
so full of feeling, so quick to self-blame
even tired of wishes which never came
a child so wild, so slow to tame
So
now in days of yearning to touch
learning to love, he craves it much
for a truth that is matched and with his own
no one else to please, no place else to roam
in loving, laden arms to call his home
even if and when / wishes never come
So...
Ryan O'Leary Jan 2021
It occurred to me some
mornings back, (I get up
at 6 am on the d•t) or as
it is currently a black spot
until about 8 am. approx.

Out in our back garden is
an Ash deciduous of course.

At about 6:30 am on the 1st
sighting there was a crow
perched high up alone, I
could see the outline from
street lighting on the road.

I pursued my interest by checking
on successive days, because the
nearest rookery is in Dromahane
some miles away.

Yes, this solitary Corvid was
sighted on several days not
always on the same branch,
but on the same tree.

I had a dilemma, an errant
crow which could have been
ostracised, they do have parliaments
and indeed murders when found
guilty of misdemeanours.

But obviously it was not that
which caused its isolation.

It has occurred to me, that perhaps
like humans, Crows could suffer
from insomnia, why not?

Again that would not explain anything
because they don't fly in the dark!

The only other possibility is that they
might be prone to bird version of the
condition known as somnambulism or
noctambulism, this could explain it.
the law is an asp
denying true will
there is only one path
thats yours to fulfil
be what you are
not what they tell
the only answer you owe
is to question your self
ethical quandry
is egoic suspense
wasting aeons of time
in this momentary existence
the daemon inside you
makes moral judgement
a surplus requirement
lest you hurt someone else
Damien Ko Aug 2023
I took my old rickety-rackety down to the 38th annual Jickety Jackety
I glimpsed a flit of Thilts, purring Brazkets in a row
    a couple of Thrice Heim'ed Tippens
        and even one thundering Lugubrious Quandry
but mine was the only rackety that day at the Jickety Jackety

circuited with spection and plick-placked with aghast
did trundle my rickety-rackety with nary a quinkle
    "Welcome to the 38th annual Jickety Jackety", trumpeted the Sonorator
        "we eagerly await the clinking of clonks, the unexpected wabeling, and the ever hazardous finale"
    "a grand spectacle, a cacophonous din,"
    "shall the Jickety Jackety begin!"

a clamor strode through the spectators and washed over the contenders
as tension undid and knotted brows
    stitching and sewing a slurry and tangle

did dribble-thrash the Brazkets at the first note of "-in!"
on surged the Thraggonks not to be out done
        as my rickety-rackety gave a confident thitter-thatter
    and did dance onwards midst a flock of Thilts
        and my rickety-rackety chortled with patter
    firmly did lumber the Lugubrious Quandry
        each motion a thunder, it proceeded grandly
the chitter and natter as the crowds ribboned and tattered
the slither stomp wander of contenders contested
the sun ran slipshod down to the horizon
as Sonorator sang close the end of the the 38th

that day I went down to the Jickety Jackety
me and my rickety-rackety
makin mouth sounds
TerryD'ArcyRyan Aug 2018
stars slowly diminish
darkness completes
still we feel the suffers of heat
the fever suspends in the thick
a velvet’s texture mix
clinging to skin as if drowned
dawn flexes, stretches and surrounds
as the last of struggling stars obscound
sunlight strikes without a sound
grabbing and stabbing clusters
loyal fray guarding reaches of dark
the sun rises content and goes to work

dawn's temper dares and flares
leading mobs to the extreme
a simple day can claim 120 degrees
misery keeps no company here
lust begins with fear
and the hunt for shade
any hue of obscurity a rare breed
creatures scurry free stalking unseen
gila monsters are a venoms lounge
despite the screams to leave

this forsaken oasis
sits ringside to hazards door
bright by right a rising star
a blazing sunmade world
rendering addicts galore
jonesing for a breeze or more
bent backs slave to the hustle and flo
fiends circling to numb a mad core
the hole dug deeper
wind indeed She seldom has a show

a quandry rolls in  
a circling wall of dust a curtain of rain
she comes riding in
on a Kicked up Beast of sand
a lasso in hand
wrangling hounds
and the force of nature
hitting the ground
blow to blow these animals
defend her round after round
the elements are primed
coming out in breakaway swing    
a punch and a weave
dust of demons bend a knee

this is the end of the line
hell is just past the next sign
devils play here long into limbo’s curfew
escape by any means regrettable
here the heat plays for keeps
the dead man’s hand
the sun aims again
with both barrels
the sound comes undone
another round just for fun
the sun reaches down
closes the man's eyes and crosses his arms
embrace the heat or R I P


Terry  D'Arcy-Ryan
CharlesC Aug 2019
All is well
All is love
Made of love
So..what's the worry..?
Or..the outrage..?
A quandry arises
The above seems both
True and False..

We witness suffering
And cries for help
Not to be ignored..
Resistance rises
Action asserts
But now something new
Ancient separation subsides
As Sacred outrage
Blossoms...
Delton Peele Aug 2020
Earlier seeking somewhere
I could breath
in secret
An opportunity presented itself
and
Covering my tracks and slipping
Through the cracks.............    
............
stealthily .............
took my leave
Sure footidly i ran and scampered
The whole while feeling  a silly anxious childlike urgency like a
Toddler running from daddy
Cause i know he's gonnnnnnnna
TICKLE  ....MEEEEEEE....
Now no time for tomfoolery
This is dead friends peak
As i slowyly lay back on the bare rock its a little
Unnerving
The jutting stone cradles you so perfectly yet
Youre legs dangle 4500 feet above town
Its so far down you cant see it but theres
a coin operated telescope
Where
bets and braggers pay when they finally get
Here all they can say is nope
Needless to say im the only one
That ive ever seen sit here
Just some rocks and a huge fern
A perfect secluded solitude
A wam breeze bringing the smell  
Of sunday food
I lean ever so slightly
To view the carnival lights below me
And i slide .  .        .           .
Fortunately my palms sweaty it stops me
Although slapping the rock that hard
I swear it moved
And my heart murmured
I was a little concerned it wouldn't
Start back up again
I swallowed and took a breath
Both actually hurt.
I closed my eyes and re-positioned
I could smell dirt
Collected my nerves ,
Relax i said
Youre even more alive
Now
But lets never do that again!
Smiling on the outside !

Opening my eyes some how everything looked color enhanced and
Extra wonderfull
Watching the cumulus slowly churn
Above me
Like smouldering smoke
Took me to a better time for a short while
I felt free
I sat peacefully for a bit
In a sorta happy state of quandry
As the shapes in flux ever changing
The thought never occurred to me
It ..............
Was assuming disguises in effort to stall me
Although hinging on the menacing side
Being so far from me somehow seemed charming
A needed respite from the mundane
Now the nimbus turning charcoal grey
On this Melancholy Sunday  afternoon
As the autumn shy line consumes
Precious daylight
a dreary darkness
Like an empty heaviness a low
Pressure depression moves in
And overshadowed me
Within me i feel it
The impending doom
Looming above
has touched down
Groping blindly
Lurking around trying to find me
Gripped in fear and although slow
Im moving
Barely
a chilling breeze berefts the leaves from the trees
There icy rustling
Sounds like wind chimes made from bones
Strips me to my soul
Im all but naked and alone
The winds so cold
Pushing past as i exhale
Even the air i breath frozen in fear
From the ghastly thing behind
Looks like a spectere before me

And now im paralized i hear the funeral knell
Ringing for me
the same wind that hit my back now burns my face.
And i know now my time has come
It can smell me
Metaphorically im spinning a caccoon
And in it
Ruminanting within gloomy memories
Impatiently im waiting for in a short while even my soul will leave me
Why would it not everything that
Hasnt been taken has got up and left me
At this point i would be amazed if it didnt
...
......what im trying to say is this
Take my words exactly as they have been contemplated,
And weighted like stone chosen precisely , arranged ,braided ,
And conveyed in syntax and perfect timing
So when i say time apart from you is hard for me
I know youve only been gone a couple hours shopping
Look at me the house is a mess and im a wreck
Do you see what i mean
I couldnt find the vaccum so i thought id eat
Tried to make a sandwich  all the knifes are *****  left it started cleaning the room
Thought i heard my phone ring .maybey it was you .couldnt find that either then. I found the vacuum thought it wasnt working took it apart ....lost one of those little important pieces down the toilet ....... .......dont ask.... ..please       ......and then ....realized it wasnt pluged in.    ....
And thats when the toilet got broke......and coincidentaly
Where all the wated came from.i forgot that i lost the phone .then i wanted to know if you would pick up some.....  . .... . .  .  ........... .... ...... ......
........



....... .... ....  ...  ...
Delton Peele Jul 2020
Do you ever stop .
.........and can you
Would you ever listen
Will you please ..................
Have you ever got lost in the quandry of the matrix
Do you have the vaguest clue .
How ridiculous this is .
I mean you and lucidity
How a living entity arrived into reality
And within it .....YOU?
do you wonder ?
How ?
Ponder?
Where you were before
Have you really loved yourself?
If not.           Why?
If so why? And who ........
I mean im happy for you,
But is it all vanity?
Why else would we do ................
Anything.
Its so ..................

******


Society


Rules
Governing enforcing



What




I love me and my addictions

Im addicted to me

I dont care what you think of me


Doesnt that just make sound badd ***


Oh fuckitall i lie .


I cant help it i just need to hear it once in a while

— The End —