"realized" poems
I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train
ran down along the coast
we came to the ocean
and then he looked at me
and said,
it's not pretty.
it was the first time I'd
realized
that.
255.2k
In That Moonlit Night Standing In The Abaft,
Watching The Towed Flaccid Wooden Raft,
I Thought That I Saw An Angel Resting,
Lying Exhausted There In That Craft.
I Call The Girl Out Unbeknownst Of Her Kind Name,
"Hey Young Lady!!" To Which She Didn't Much Respond,
She Looked Up Towards Me Once In Anguish & Collapsed,
I See Desperation In Her Amber Eyes & Resolve To Help Her.
The Crewmen Had Now Been Doing The Paddles After Resting,
I Summon My Captain & Ask, "Do You See That Girl In The Raft?"
The Senile Captain Smiles To Say, "Commodore, Better Get Married,"
I Look Just Clueless To Which He Simply Replies, "There Is No Girl."
True He Was As She Had Simply Disappeared,
I Started Thinking Of My Sleep Needs That Day,
I Looked Around Again In A Hope To Find The Girl,
I Had Compromised My Routine As The Commodore.
Then I Immediately Realized It Was My Wild Phantasm,
Now This Was Just A Plain Illusion Of A Tired Sailor's Mind,
No Mermaids Could Have Ever Existed In Reality & Were Fake,
I Turned Towards The Deck To Go Back To My Bunk For Sleeping.
As I Climbed Down The Stairs To Enter My Room Amazed & Dazed,
I Saw Her Standing And Waiting For Me By The Side Of My Bunk,
I Accepted That Delusion Of My Mind & Started To Lie Down,
She Said, "I'm As Real As Your Thoughts, Don't Fear Me."
She & I-Me & Her, Had The Best Time That Night,
In The Morning She Was Gone & Was Just Gone,
Disappeared Into Thin Air While I Was Asleep,
Each Day I So Dearly Long For Her To Return.
Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 2:06 AM UTC
I used to be
afraid of my *****
thought it looked loose
and unusually mushy.
I thought my first time
having ***
would be lights off
in an insecure mess.
I'd been told
"they're all unique"
but I'd look at mine, teary eyed
and couldn't even speak.
It wasn't until I went
lights on with a girl
and I still thought she was
the most beautiful thing in the world
that I realized how
she felt the same
and we only put
our own bodies to shame.
So I want to write an ode
to my beautiful ******
and give her the love
she deserves.
(p.s. I named her Carolina)
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 1:11 AM UTC
Zindagi ne, is kaddar, kiya hai, bas vaar
Bina koi, churee, ya koi, talwaar
Ghaayal; dil ye hua, baar, baar
Zindagi ne, di, chotain hazaar
Gaye thay, hum, is tarah se, bikhar
jooda na, paye thay phirse ye jigar
khaamoshi se, milta tha, bas, karaar
tanhayeeon se , karte thay, iqraar
Jhanke, hum jab, dil ke, jo andar
Sach nikala, gehrayion se, baahar
Shikayat hai, ab na, koi takraar
karne lage hai, hum, khudse jo pyaar!
Translation in English
Self Love
Life has waged on me many a war
Without even a sword or a dagger so far
The heart was wounded time and again
Life hurt and caused me so much pain
My life was but thrown helter skelter
I could not piece my heart together
Silence was but my solace
Solitude was my only grace
When I dug deep within me
The truth I could clearly see
I have no grievances or complaints now
Having realized the importance of self-love
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 2:28 AM UTC
What is Beauty?
Is not the soul creator of beautiful?
If so, why are people with souls not so beautiful sometimes?
Is it this flesh that gets in the way, fighting to show us our ugliness?
Beauty is not seen as much it is realized.
Beauty is not the eyes but how the eyes perceive.
Beauty is not the mouth by how the lips are used.
Beauty is not the hands but how the hands are guided;
softly and gliding or harsh and punishing.
Beauty is not speaking hard to weakness,
but kindness that holds up the weak members.
Beauty is seeing through the roughness;
Seeing through the pain;
Seeing through the sins;
Seeing past our ugliness, (cause we all have it).
Beauty is not the piano but the music it makes.
Beauty is the light we see in the darkness.
Beauty is the hope in Heaven.
Beauty is not any of us, lest we have our eyes washed with salvation,
in order to see Beauty in others.
What is Beauty?
Beauty is the inside of what creates it.
Sean 7/30/2012
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 9:26 PM UTC
This letter is truly and doubtlessly a letter to the only person who will be left when everyone else is gone. To the woman of my life. To my love, my life, my everything. To me.
Dear me,
You, the way you are, are perfect. You, with your little struggles you bear, with all the strength you carry so desperately around, finding a way to use it in your everyday life. You, with all your words stuck in your throat that you are so scared to say out loud – so you write them down.
You, with your smart-ass-mouth trying to make this world a better place. You, who has already realized that you must better yourself first to better others. You are all through perfect in your own way.
And yes, times were tough back then, but you were tougher. You mastered to overcome your biggest fear – the fear to stand for what you want and to love yourself entirely.
And even though, your selflove has improved so much over these past few years, you must learn a lot, you will have to endure a lot of pain and gain a lot of strength.
Selflove is a lifetime process.
My wonderful, beautiful love,
You carry mountains on your back and universes in your mind.
And every single day you wake up you are a better version of yourself.
Whatever you wish to do – do so! This is your life and you have to hold the upper hand in it. You have to be your own master.
Yes, let life be taught by others. Watch them live, but never become someone else while observing.
God did his best in making you special and unique – do not destroy his work of art in imitating.
Learn.
Observe.
Master.
Once you can rely on yourself, you are ready to change the world.
The world is waiting for you to make it the place it deserves to be.
A good place, a place with no fear, with no terror.
A place people can feel secure and loved.
Make this not only a vision but the reality.
Do your best and whatever you have reached at the end of the day – you DID your best.
You were great, and you could not have done any better.
I am proud of you.
And I love you.
To the dearest, most beautiful person on this planet, me.
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 2:15 PM UTC
I found you in the cracks of winter. On our first date, we drank tea from cups bigger than our faces. You also told me you wrote poetry. I noticed how every time you would lick your lips before you would speak. The first time you read me a poem your window was open and it was raining. Your voice cracked and you cleared your throat six times. I was smitten. After our third date, I showed you my favorite place in the world. I took you to a bay on the outskirts of town. I told you the stories I carved into the sand a long time ago. I told you I came here every time the world kept turning but I felt as though I've fallen off, waiting for a guitar solo crash or a midnight knock on my window.
I wanted to tell you, you were my midnight knock. You let me hold your book of poems that night. There were bite marks in them from when you said you climbed up in trees back when you were as tall as the kitchen counter. We had conversations of Bon Iver and soccer as we laid on the sandy bay.
I realized that night I wanted to be there with you when the clock swallows up your time and watch indie movies on Netflix when there is nothing good on TV. I turned to look into space and swallowed all my feelings. I felt hollow when I looked at you and noticed your skin was old and tired. But you looked at me like you were young. You said I was the first to make you feel this way. I was smitten.
At first, I looked at you like a star but ended up seeing the whole solar system.
Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 8:55 PM UTC
I like to play horror games
Amnesia was the first one I played
The monsters were scary
The envoirement was eerie
But if I'd call the monster Steven
Instead of scared I'd be merry
Steven was such a funny guy
He looked funny
He walked weirdly
Nothing of him would terrify
The only time he'd scare me was when I'd open the door
Sometimes the jumpscare would make me fall to the floor
Many years I have played these games
Even though I was scared, in the end I'd be okay
That was until I stood next to my brother
He was not yet in his grave
This experience was like no other
It crashed on me like a giant wave
I'd never seen him lay so still
It was hard but I wanted to try
Though I knew it could only go downhill
I wanted to touch his hand one last time
I lowered my body and reached out my hand
I was pretty sure he would scare me right then & there
But my brother didnt move, not even a hair
And I realized at that moment how much I wanted that jumpscare
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 11:03 PM UTC
I Don't Average Out
I remember crying during lunch my senior year —
my math teacher's eyebrows colliding,
one plane folding into a fractal.
He had sat there, nearly four years,
watching me struggle through an unreal number of numbers —
literally and figuratively —
while again and again the test scores whispered:
You
are less
than average.
But behind the eyes of a determined man
my insecurities never won.
He refused to believe the numbers.
He was searching for some unspoken meaning —
and so was I.
I almost found it the day of graduation.
I almost found it between his eyebrows,
creased like a point of pride —
because I was the first of my family
to hold something as light as a diploma
instead of a heavy head,
nodding under the weight of ******
The first to feel like a feather
instead of a six-pack,
a bad back,
the slow grind of manual labor.
I was flying.
Then college tried to land me.
Again I let an institution measure me.
Test scores trying to tell me what I was worth —
intelligence reduced to something
too narrow to understand its own diversity.
Less than average, they said.
But I wasn't below the line —
I was just outside it.
An individual
above their point of comparison.
I could read a room like a text.
I could build connection out of nothing.
I could debate, move, make people feel something.
Gold doesn't average out either.
So I learned —
it wasn't the diploma I should have chased.
Not the thing I'd wave at my little brothers and sisters
to show them how to live better,
burn brighter,
burn longer.
Here I am.
Red-faced and unafraid.
Spoken word was always there —
hiding between the creases of my teacher's brow,
folded into the question I didn't know I was asking.
The answer was never in his book.
It was in his look.
In his refusal to quit on me.
I could have found it sooner
if I'd known what I was searching for.
I
am
not
stupid.
I haven't failed by choosing something
the institution doesn't recognize.
I am not defined by a score,
a line,
a rule,
a rhyme.
I don't average out —
and that is not a weakness.
Power isn't in a piece of paper.
Power is in your words.
In your chosen behavior.
In the silence you finally break.
The answer was never in his textbook —
it was in his persistence.
In the way he looked at me
like the numbers were wrong.
He just didn't have the words to say it.
But I do.
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 2:16 PM UTC
And today I met u again...
And today I sensed happiness again...
And today as you left to go...
I had it at the back of my mind, but I didn't tell so...
Because today I realized you’re not mine...
But still I take you to be my sunshine...
And so I wait for this day to pass by...
So that I could meet you tomorrow and maybe feel shy...
And Yess!!! Tomorrow I will meet you again...
And sense this kind of happiness again... ♥♥♥
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 12:49 PM UTC
Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly go the days.
Sunrise, sunset
You wake up then you undress.
It always is the same.
The sunrise and the sunsets
You are lying while you confess, keep trying to explain
the sunrise and the sunsets.
You realized then you forgot what you've been trying to retain.
But everybody knows that it is all about the things
that get stuck inside of your head,
like the song your roommate sings
or a vision of her body as she stretches out on your bed.
She raises her hands in the air, asked you,
when was the last time you looked in the mirror?
'Cause you've changed.
Yeah, you've changed.
Sunrises, sunsets
You're hopeful then you regret.
The circle never breaks.
With a sunrise or a sunset there's a change of heart or address.
Is there nothing that remains
for a sunrise or a sunset?
You're manic and depressed.
Will you ever feel okay?
For a sunrise or a sunset your lover is an actress.
Did you really think she'd stay
for a sunrise or a sunset?
You're either coming or you just left, but you're always on the way
towards a sunrise or a sunset, a scribble or a sonnet.
They are really just the same.
To the sunrise and the sunset,
the master and the servant have exactly the same fate.
It's a sunrise and a sunset
from a cradle to a casket
there is no way to escape
the sunrise and the sunset.
Hold your sadness like a puppet, keep putting on the play.
But everything you do is leading to the point
where you just won't know what to do.
And at that moment you may laugh,
but there is someone there who will be laughing louder than you.
So it's true; the trick is complete.
Become everything you said you never would be.
You're a fool! You're a fool!
Sunrise, sunset, sunrises, sunsets
Sunrise and the sunsets.
Sunrise, sunset
Where are you Arienette?
Where are you Arienette?
Sep 2, 2012
Sep 2, 2012 at 12:29 AM UTC
Mario hits it with the sounds
of bodies hitting plexiglass.
My horses hit it without a sound. They want to escape it.
And I am trying to drive this dune buggy
off this cliff, but the clipping is strong here.
In Pac-Man, the tunnels were circular. I don’t know
if people realized that they were trapped in a sphere.
In Asteroids when you get to the edge of the universe,
you begin again.
And that Snake. His body could stretch all over his world
looping, but he could never eat his tail.
If all your electrons were in the right place, and all the wall’s
electrons were in the right place. You could feasibly walk through
the wall.
What would you do while in the wall? Think. Fear.
The superposition could rip your body into ragdoll parts.
When I turned clipping off, I expected the freedom to walk through
the wall and suddenly the floor
fell out from under me.
Every time I respawn I feel like my inventory is heavier,
and my flamethrower burns colder.
Jul 21, 2011
Jul 21, 2011 at 7:08 PM UTC
I used to say your lips were too small.
but now,
after feeling so many,
I realized yours weren't small.
They were a perfect fit,
like a puzzle piece.
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 11:31 PM UTC
it wasn't until the sun rose
that I realized
just how much
I was in love with the moon
Apr 4, 2019
Apr 4, 2019 at 1:33 AM UTC
Today i met a person,
n my heart started beating fast,
together we smiled,together we njoyed n was for each other everytym,
n my heart beat turned into love,
He rang me up and said,
"I have smthng to say",
my heart beat agn started beating first ,
n i look my best to meet him,
bt whn i heard dat
"smthing "he wanted to say ,
my heart broke into pieces,
as my love didnt reach him
As i was going bck
i saw another guy , n my heart started to beat agn ,
i realized it was not "love " it was juz an "infaution"
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 4:01 PM UTC
Aries - Tell me about every person who broke your heart, tell me about how you fantasize of never being heard of again.
Taurus - Tell me about the demons that tuck you in bed every night and you lay awake and try to fill the void in your heart with lost causes.
Gemini - Do you remember the last time you spilled your feelings out to someone? And had them touch your soul instead of your body? Has anyone ever tried to untangle the mess you heart’s been in?
Cancer - When did you feel the shock of losing someone? When you realized you will never fell their touch or hear their voice, you will only see their smiles in photographs.
Leo - Remember the first time someone told you theyre never going to leave you? How long has the hole you’ve torn in your heart been empty?
Virgo -Tell me about how you’re torn between forgetting them and forgiving them
Libra - Tell me about how you’ve been looking for love in all the wrong people, why it hurts so much when they look at you like that.
Scorpio - Tell me about the first time you felt the weight of hatred on your heart. Who left you so broken that now your eyes would cut deeper than any knife you’ve ever picked up.
Sagittarius - How many times have you said “why won’t my heart stop beating” before falling asleep?
Capricorn - How many times have you tried to convince your mind that the person you love, loves you back?
Aquarius - Who broke the windows to your heart? You thought it would hurt for a minute but it’s been 4 years and nothing’s changed.
Pisces - How many poems have you written that no one will ever read? The ones about your ex lovers who left you broken on the bathroom floor while you carved their names on your walls.
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 10:45 AM UTC
the issue about emotions
is they cannot be turned off easily
i learned in psychology class
that there's this small part in your brain called the "amygdala" and it controls your emotions
i realized then and there
that i had to decide
"to feel everything all at once, or nothing at all"
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 12:07 AM UTC
Dear ****
**** you and your devilish traps
thanks for making my good days go to crap
thanks for separating me from my mother,
for making me look like a **** up to my brother
thanks for the addiction I have to face
you really did take me to another place
thanks for making me into the person I am
at least you never made me slam
thanks for making me stay up for a week or two
you showed me that I got nothing to lose
thanks for putting shadows in front of my eyes
but if it wasn’t for that I wouldn’t have realized my lies
I now put a gat in the side of my lap
cause I can’t even sleep or even take a nap
I’m always moving around , where ever it is you take me
bringing me to my dealers house making me beg on my knees
even if it’s just leftover’s, crumpled up in aluminum foil
Now I pick my arms because I think it begins to boil
I’m known as the black sheep in my family
you made my life a ****** up tragedy
The scars you caused aren’t only visible but mental
Thank god I stopped before I melted my dentals
There’s still a voice in my head telling me not to leave you
but I want to start my actual life, I want to be someone new
I thank you for the **** caused, for the mistakes you made me do
But I’m leaving you now, one last thing, **** you.
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 5:18 PM UTC
1995 saw the start of Generation Z,
the ‘iKids’ with a knack for this new-fangled technology,
Millennial 2.0,
caught in the limbo of the World Wide Web development and Rose Gold iPhones.
They say we’re adaptable,
but apparently we can’t make our own decisions about anything.
They say that we don’t care about anything
except for our tiny little screens,
but they forget who put them in our hands,
and they forget who they run to for help
when they forget how to troubleshoot.
They forget what kind of technology we need to keep sustaining life in the Information Age,
Caught in a crossfire because
Yeah, we’re 90s kids—but the 90s never really actually ended until 2006,
the only difference between two decades being
how much neon versus how much chrome,
and just how expensive accidentally opening the internet app on your mom’s blackberry phone was.
We’re nostalgic for all the things we can’t quite remember,
and half these high schoolers weren’t actually born until 2000 or 2001.
Most of us aren’t old enough to even remember 9/11, nothing outside of the news clips that our teachers show us in history class every single September.
I was born in the same year as the Columbine shootings.
The United States has not been at peace for a year of my life.
We are always fighting— fighting for everything.
Human equality,
posing arguments about micro aggressions and refugees, seeing the inhumanity in the past that we’re living.
None of us are older than 21,
under such hard scrutiny while Baby Boomers Wave 2 still run our country.
We inherited the Millenial’s exhaustion,
the generation before us spending our childhood fighting for all the things that we have never really believed in.
Fairytales.
Generation Z.
The ‘iKids’ who are going to one day be making leaps and bounds with technology,
the generation to nurse this dying planet back to health,
Millennials 2.0 who know how to learn from our forerunners’ mistakes,
who know how to adapt from Sidekicks to iPhone 6S Plus in less than a decade.
We’re the kids who have realized that fun is found in safe spaces rather than invading each other’s personal spaces.
They say we’re too sensitive,
but at the same time they claim that we’re desensitized.
And I thought we were the generation that couldn't make decisions.
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 9:21 PM UTC
she had flaked away her memories
and stepped up
with a ponderous heart,
held by two gentle hands;
and saying goodbye, did she,
as she slipped off her skin,
for the moment blood stains
the kumari's tender soul,
bereaved, will she become,
for a goddess never bleeds.
her feet shall never touch
the tattered, naked ground,
for it engulfs and devours
and burns off the kumari's flesh.
holding her pure spirit, and
accepting a cruel death sentence,
her quivering soul
cupped but a glimmer of hope,
as the fire would flicker
and lash and whip
as her skin flakes again,
and the kumari vanishes.
but, if she remains unscathed,
blood shall be drawn,
and the gods will tremble and
her body will collapse.
the world will consume her
once again.
a kumari's blood,
drawn, now at death,
trembling and alone,
had she sobbed tears of joy,
for no longer the weight
must she bear in her heart,
of being a kumari;
but a kumari is she,
and the world has not chose her,
but she has chosen to be.
she had withered away,
heart no longer ponderous,
she stepped up.
and her wishes from within
passed on to the fearful others,
held by two gentle hands, and
with a gentle flutter of her eyes,
next to her charcoal stained skin,
had her heart stopped;
for her bejeweled crown had been stained with blood,
and the kumari realized that
she had died long ago.
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 6:41 PM UTC
for Tascha
deep in the pond of unhappy, swimming,
drowning the next contemporaneous
depression thought quickly swallowed,
desperation in quick glances everywhere,
dawn is no consolation but just another
daily drawing tighter of twine cutting
disillusionment
dear god, commences every thought,
delayed answers have yet to arrive,
**** the deity's non-responsivness,
dare not say out loud lest,
deserved fates be worse, be realized,
didn't know? how can that be?
disguiser par excellent, I am the original
deceiver
But I never think about
death or dying, for that would be
defeat finale, a statute to, a status of none, a
destiny some wick spark, still insists can be
deferred
differed always,
diffidently, but grasping yet at the
double entendre that is my
dark vision of a future already past
May 2015
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 4:45 PM UTC
The hood won't be the same,
We're out standing in the rain,
To encourage sprouts as we once did our children;
For down the road you see it's as legal,
As a Timmy's and a cream-cheese bagel,
We're good to grow the free green grass at home.
On this side of our border,
Starting this October,
We'll bake it, vape it, roll and bowl to take it;
Down the road you see it's now legal,
The price of home grown's dropped to zero,
We're good to grow the free green grass at home.
Yes we're all on board to greet it,
Some inhale and some will eat it;
We're good to grow the free green grass at home.
I'm awake and it astounds me,
My four plants that surround me;
We've realized what we've long been dreaming;
For there's a store where we can cop some,
Come the fall fresh buds will blossom,
We're good to grow our free green grass at home.
Yes we're all on board to greet it,
Some inhale, and some will eat it,
We're good to grow our free green grass at home.
Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 6:09 AM UTC
I realized when I'm drifting to sleep
You are the majority of my last thoughts
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 1:22 AM UTC
And then, in the middle of a talk with our friends I randomly turned to my right and kissed him on the shoulder, and I realized I was madly, deeply in love and there was no way back.
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 1:07 AM UTC
I was born out of fur and cotton,
With eyes that were shiny, black buttons.
From the store rack, I always watched the distant tree.
But one fine day, this little girl picked me.
My owner handled me with great care.
I was, after all, her beloved teddy bear.
I seemed to be her biggest comfort,
When she couldn't sleep or she felt troubled.
Years passed by and so did my time.
The little girl didn't need her teddy when she cried.
As I lay with the other toys in the attic,
I realized that my short life was quite tragic.
"Mr. Cuddles! Your child's best friend!"
But who's going to care about me in the end?
I played my part. I stayed with you.
But in the end this is what it came to.
Mr. Cuddles, the lonely one.
Who lies in the attic with his fur undone.
The cotton keeps falling out of his limb,
The once happy bear now lays grim.
-Wayward❤
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 1:57 PM UTC