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"recently" poems
recently i think a soulmate is someone who will make you be the most you that you can possibly be.
0
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 6:26 PM UTC
soulmate
A Queen in waiting, a Princess no less. Each day, a routine before being seen. For some, a shadow and not of the eye. The kind you'd find on that of a guy. An army of pogonophobes in dysphoric confusion. Each purging our wardrobes, a repeated delusion. A leading ******* from a pornographic circus. The ***** under graduate from a school of *** workers. Your Hubby's vision in blue is our secret down south, 'cause he wouldn't kiss you with that ***** mouth. So, I'll stop you there Sizzle Chest with your cans of Stella in your pristine white vest. 'Cause this is real easy, even for you Mr ****** I used to be a Princess but now I'm a Queen, recently coronated after all that I've seen. Poetry by Kaydee.
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Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 9:43 AM UTC
Princess No Less.
recently I got a little older, learned a lesson or two, like how loving someone could never be as poetic as I wanted it to. like how nothing would ever be as poetic as I wanted it to. how can I accept that the miracle of love isn’t really a miracle at all? how can I wrap myself in someone’s arms when I know that there isn’t any sort of poetic loving involved? how do I unlearn the romantic thoughts that taught me about the fireworks, the butterflies, and the fluttering fingers in the dark. and accept that maybe kissing won’t be as spiritual as I thought. maybe it’s really just a mouth on mine. how do I unlearn my innocent heart who lulled me into a false sense of hope for a lover who would call the way my body moves art. a lover who would feel the poetry in every word I spoke in the dark.
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Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 7:37 PM UTC
I don’t believe in love anymore
Metaphors for blue eyes There's one for every shade of blue A rainbow of silken language meant to charm They're as common as the color itself But recently I've come to realize Why Her eyes Dark, under curling lashes and golden hair Like crystals flashing from the rough Dream-catching sunbeams and sparkling Like the summer sun on a warm pool A medley of sapphires and diamonds That I wouldn't trade for the world His eyes Fairy pools of magic wonder The not-so-secret glimmer of bright water An enchanted river whose glow Is the bright warmth of an autumn day Crystalline water that welcomed my touch The still surface broken when he laughs
0
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 9:59 PM UTC
Metaphors for Blue Eyes
It's funny how you lie, because I know it all. The things that you say behind these walls, But I won't let you know this, no I will not throw a fit. Because he'd spit out lines of ignorance all over me. And our friendship is more important to me than this, This sweet ignorance. The pain you've been causing recently to me hurts, It burns every curve, every slot, it slurs my mind, Because I've believed in you from the beginning of time. And to think that you've been laughing, Praising hate towards me. I wish I could just wake up, and tell you about this insane dream. Or maybe I'm the one to blame? Have I really been acting out as crazed as you say? Backdooring you as if you weren't anything new, I can't recall these events in the album of my memories. Please start pointing them out to me. I feel as if we are strangers now. It's breaking into my mind, I can no longer sleep right at night. And if I drift away, I wake up with dried tears on my face. I don't want you to go, Please stay by my side. Weren't we bestfriends? I never thought you'd be the one to make me feel as if I need to run and hide? But now you are, and I have to ignore this, Because if I don't.. There will be ignorance, Ignorance in the sweetest. And neither of us need this. This sweet ignorance.
0
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 6:46 PM UTC
Sweet Ignorance
Sun ached to rise, above the jagged horizon. It lit the shadow, of stone work, of your craftsmanship. It stood high, strong and everlasting. A stone giant, held together with assumption. Assumption of him, the prince that you seek. Recently one has followed, to the top where you lie. He said the verse, a promise, an assumption. He would mend the holes, patch the sides. As time rhythmically passes, the tower would stand, strong and eager. Until your assumption, is not yet reality. The one that followed, sometime ago, has left with the moon. As your eye tears, the tower leans, crumbles. The salty liquid, corrodes your assumption, that is often set in stone. I watch from afar, knowing the outcome. I tread among the emotion, overflowing and scattered around. As your kin, your brother, I help to pick up the pieces.
0
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 11:30 AM UTC
Assumption
Haven't made a heart to heart blog post in a while.. So recently a friend of mine messaged me on kik. We kinda drifted apart, but all the same we drifted back again .. You know that feeling? She's asked me about how I was and what new things we going on in my life and then out of know where she asked me how I got into what I do, that , for those of you that don't know, is makeup. It a happy, funny, weird story all at the one time. As some of you already know, when I was 5 my parents died and I moved to Paris with my nan (<3) and she always wears red lipstick, even to this day. Lipstick , red lipstick to be more exact, was only worn by the higher class women and was generally quite expensive. Us Dean family have a ... Tradition I suppose. When a mother gives her child her very first red lipstick it means that she, in the eyes of the family, has matured and such not blah blah blah. Anyway. I didn't have my mom to do that ,so my nan took that role instead. At the ages of in and around 14 I started wearing makeup, but never in public, my nan wouldn't allow such things. I always tried to copy her make up , because she was the only female figure I had as a child , and the only person I ever respected. Even to this day my makeup is still like hers , she notices that ever time I visit haha ~ I started posting picture of my makeup ideas on my old facebook about 3 years ago and one day a represtentive from Lancôme called me and asked me to work for them , I said yes. I told my nan that day and she gave me my first red lipstick and I still have it to this day je t'aime Nana <3
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Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 5:32 PM UTC
My MakeUp Story (real)
Haven't made a heart to heart blog post in a while.. So recently a friend of mine messaged me on kik. We kinda drifted apart, but all the same we drifted back again .. You know that feeling? She's asked me about how I was and what new things we going on in my life and then out of know where she asked me how I got into what I do, that , for those of you that don't know, is makeup. It a happy, funny, weird story all at the one time. As some of you already know, when I was 5 my parents died and I moved to Paris with my nan (<3) and she always wears red lipstick, even to this day. Lipstick , red lipstick to be more exact, was only worn by the higher class women and was generally quite expensive. Us Dean family have a ... Tradition I suppose. When a mother gives her child her very first red lipstick it means that she, in the eyes of the family, has matured and such not blah blah blah. Anyway. I didn't have my mom to do that ,so my nan took that role instead. At the ages of in and around 14 I started wearing makeup, but never in public, my nan wouldn't allow such things. I always tried to copy her make up , because she was the only female figure I had as a child , and the only person I ever respected. Even to this day my makeup is still like hers , she notices that ever time I visit haha ~ I started posting picture of my makeup ideas on my old facebook about 3 years ago and one day a represtentive from Lancôme called me and asked me to work for them , I said yes. I told my nan that day and she gave me my first red lipstick and I still have it to this day je t'aime Nana <3
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8
Intense Workout I try to workout diligently, at least 3 times a week, the muscles are tight and strong, I'm certainly no geek, I pump the iron, walk the track, listen to my tunes, but lately I've been distracted, watching for ms June She's quite the lovely lady, recently moved to this place, she is French, with sweet accent, puts smiles on my face, vous êtes l'homme élégant she says to me, her eyes sparkle bright, I have no idea what that means, so I just smile with delight sometimes she reaches out, and touches me on my arm, de tels forts muscles she says, and this makes me warm, I need to study French I guess, so I won't look the fool, for all I know, there is a chance, she is calling me a tool the thing that's bad about this all, is I work out way too long, trying to impress this girl, make her think I am King Kong, now my muscles are getting sore, I'm working way to hard, if I keep this up much more, I'll be searching for my doctor's card Gomer LePoet...
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Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 8:14 PM UTC
Intense Workout
for seven years i believed that i had no right to say that i had been abused because it wasn't physical, like my friend who was beat by her drunk father on a daily basis. my abuse was only on an emotional, psychological scale and while sometimes his hand slipped or gripped too tight on me, i honestly wouldn't count it as abuse. recently i began reading into this and while it's not as talked about as physical or ****** abuse it still counts and it carries over as children grow up from these experiences. even experiences that i didn't think counted as emotional abuse, from times when i was far younger than just a teenager. the abuse i've dealt with hasn't made me any stronger than i was, it's made me the exact opposite; instead of being the person i was before, bright and optimistic, i'm apologizing constantly for things i don't need to and second guessing myself and others intentions. constantly i wonder if i'm bothering someone, am i being too much of myself? am i allowed to speak? does my opinion matter? is it all right to assert myself? after being told for three years that i don't matter, and there is no point of me for existing and that it's no wonder i don't have any friends, i'm trying to break myself out of the box i've placed myself in and it's so **** hard.
0
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 2:17 AM UTC
adult children of abusive parents
you've been on my mind a lot recently polluting my thoughts contaminating my very being with idle inklings and constrained affections making everyday tasks near impossible I'm going insane, but I love it.
0
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 4:54 PM UTC
pollution
The night is only a sort of carbon paper, Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars Letting in the light, peephole after peephole -- A bonewhite light, like death, behind all things. Under the eyes of the stars and the moon's rictus He suffers his desert pillow, sleeplessness Stretching its fine, irritating sand in all directions. Over and over the old, granular movie Exposes embarrassments--the mizzling days Of childhood and adolescence, sticky with dreams, Parental faces on tall stalks, alternately stern and tearful, A garden of buggy rose that made him cry. His forehead is bumpy as a sack of rocks. Memories jostle each other for face-room like obsolete film stars. He is immune to pills: red, purple, blue -- How they lit the tedium of the protracted evening! Those sugary planets whose influence won for him A life baptized in no-life for a while, And the sweet, drugged waking of a forgetful baby. Now the pills are worn-out and silly, like classical gods. Their poppy-sleepy colors do him no good. His head is a little interior of grey mirrors. Each gesture flees immediately down an alley Of diminishing perspectives, and its significance Drains like water out the hole at the far end. He lives without privacy in a lidless room, The bald slots of his eyes stiffened wide-open On the incessant heat-lightning flicker of situations. Nightlong, in the granite yard, invisible cats Have been howling like women, or damaged instruments. Already he can feel daylight, his white disease, Creeping up with her hatful of trivial repetitions. The city is a map of cheerful twitters now, And everywhere people, eyes mica-silver and blank, Are riding to work in rows, as if recently brainwashed.
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15.4k
Insomniac
The night is only a sort of carbon paper, Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars Letting in the light, peephole after peephole -- A bonewhite light, like death, behind all things. Under the eyes of the stars and the moon's rictus He suffers his desert pillow, sleeplessness Stretching its fine, irritating sand in all directions. Over and over the old, granular movie Exposes embarrassments--the mizzling days Of childhood and adolescence, sticky with dreams, Parental faces on tall stalks, alternately stern and tearful, A garden of buggy rose that made him cry. His forehead is bumpy as a sack of rocks. Memories jostle each other for face-room like obsolete film stars. He is immune to pills: red, purple, blue -- How they lit the tedium of the protracted evening! Those sugary planets whose influence won for him A life baptized in no-life for a while, And the sweet, drugged waking of a forgetful baby. Now the pills are worn-out and silly, like classical gods. Their poppy-sleepy colors do him no good. His head is a little interior of grey mirrors. Each gesture flees immediately down an alley Of diminishing perspectives, and its significance Drains like water out the hole at the far end. He lives without privacy in a lidless room, The bald slots of his eyes stiffened wide-open On the incessant heat-lightning flicker of situations. Nightlong, in the granite yard, invisible cats Have been howling like women, or damaged instruments. Already he can feel daylight, his white disease, Creeping up with her hatful of trivial repetitions. The city is a map of cheerful twitters now, And everywhere people, eyes mica-silver and blank, Are riding to work in rows, as if recently brainwashed.
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35
I've been dreamin' of you since I was a young woman... But I couldn't ever place your face to this man- as of yet... In my dreams, I'm walkin' alone on the beach in the early morning hours... I see this man strollin' along- All of a sudden; he starts runnin'- I soon realize he is comin' towards me- Approachin' me, he was smilin', as if he was in love... Then takin' me into his arms, he held me- like he'd never let go! We ended up spendin' the whole day together, just him and I; gettin' to know one another and explorin' the beach... As the sun was settin' he built an open fire- and we made unbelievable heavenly love; so full of passion and desire... He was everythin' I could dream of or want in my soulmate... As dreams come and go- they all must end... I'd wake up feelin' loved and confused, but rememberin' the best time of my life, yet never knowin' who this man was... I always thought this man had to be my husband- But it wasn't and as life happens, so does heartache! My dream with my mysterious love always continued- time after time, through out the years... Always the same man, the same beach; and we'd begin by gettin' to know one another even more- and always endin' just the same! Many mornings after- I'd lay there feelin' guilty; longin' for these dreams to be real... Always wonderin' 'who is this man?' But still not comin' up with an answer, never recognizin' his face... Over the last couple of years, I've been havin' this dream once again, but frequently... As I'd wake up- I've been rememberin' more features to my dream love- but yet to knowin' who he's been... And now gettin' to know you- I've been feelin', as if, we've already known each other, like we're soulmates! Over the last several days as I've dreamed of this man- I'm beginnin' to realize somethin'- I've been seein' you all along... I have no doubt that I've dreamed you into my life! I've been seein' you numerous times over the years, and up until recently only in my dreams- but as I look at pictures of you I know it's been you- I feel your presence with me... I know I must seem crazy, but I believe, I've been dreamin' of you most of my life... My Love; My Dream Soulmate... 2008 COPYRIGHT; Sabrina Denise Healey, ~Angelmom~
0
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 11:20 PM UTC
My Dream Soulmate~
I've been dreamin' of you since I was a young woman... But I couldn't ever place your face to this man- as of yet... In my dreams, I'm walkin' alone on the beach in the early morning hours... I see this man strollin' along- All of a sudden; he starts runnin'- I soon realize he is comin' towards me- Approachin' me, he was smilin', as if he was in love... Then takin' me into his arms, he held me- like he'd never let go! We ended up spendin' the whole day together, just him and I; gettin' to know one another and explorin' the beach... As the sun was settin' he built an open fire- and we made unbelievable heavenly love; so full of passion and desire... He was everythin' I could dream of or want in my soulmate... As dreams come and go- they all must end... I'd wake up feelin' loved and confused, but rememberin' the best time of my life, yet never knowin' who this man was... I always thought this man had to be my husband- But it wasn't and as life happens, so does heartache! My dream with my mysterious love always continued- time after time, through out the years... Always the same man, the same beach; and we'd begin by gettin' to know one another even more- and always endin' just the same! Many mornings after- I'd lay there feelin' guilty; longin' for these dreams to be real... Always wonderin' 'who is this man?' But still not comin' up with an answer, never recognizin' his face... Over the last couple of years, I've been havin' this dream once again, but frequently... As I'd wake up- I've been rememberin' more features to my dream love- but yet to knowin' who he's been... And now gettin' to know you- I've been feelin', as if, we've already known each other, like we're soulmates! Over the last several days as I've dreamed of this man- I'm beginnin' to realize somethin'- I've been seein' you all along... I have no doubt that I've dreamed you into my life! I've been seein' you numerous times over the years, and up until recently only in my dreams- but as I look at pictures of you I know it's been you- I feel your presence with me... I know I must seem crazy, but I believe, I've been dreamin' of you most of my life... My Love; My Dream Soulmate... 2008 COPYRIGHT; Sabrina Denise Healey, ~Angelmom~
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86
"when my body was mine" a line read recently did i let my body slip out of my own skin before i noticed was i so oblivious as it dripped between their fingers so far from my skin when i was told i was old enough to need to shave, my hair wasn't mine anymore. when my rough and wild behavior was no longer considered ladylike enough, and i had to tame my wild skin to sit and dance in proper ways, my posture wasn't mine anymore. when my toes were deemed to callous for society my innocent beautiful little toes were strapped into shoes and forgot their freedom for a time, my feet were no longer mine. when they called out at my body when it possessively dripped between their fingers i realized that i had let my body belong to other people and so i let my hair grow thick everywhere and i carry myself with the joy i feel and i sit and dance from the inside out trying to forget how much i may stand out vulnerability is strength vulnerability is strength i tell myself as i dance barefoot with hairy underarms in out-of-style clothes and an unpainted face come dance, please come dance, so we may taste the flavor of life together
0
Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 9:30 AM UTC
"when my body was mine"
Today in an overweight society, The type of society that deals anxiety, Anxiety, anxiety, in this overweight society. Today in an overweight society, The type of society where diet pills are a normality, Normality, Normality in an overweight society. Today in the eyes of an underweight tragedy, Influenced so greatly by an overweight society, Tragedy, Tragedy, in an overweight society. Influenced by a society of fatty foods, Fear becoming a more common mood, The fear of falling into the normality The normality of this tragedy. The overweight society. Influence by obesity. Striving to be what their minds see, The minds of the children trapped, Trapped by this overweight society. Influenced by the skinny girls on TV Only followed by ads showing fatty foods society demans you eat Have a cheeseburger, upgrade to a large fry, yet still look like her, it's pounded in her mind. Young minds believe what they see. Morphed into the tragedy of society. A society where eating disorders strive A society where an 8 year old can consious you starve themselve to feel pretty. The definition of pretty based simply on TV Yet nobody questions this more than imperfect society. Elementary ages childern being fed fat then forced to stand in front of a mirror. Put a toy in poison and call it magic. Oh yes, what a fantasy. A fantasy forcing you into reality. The reality becoming your worst nightmare. The reality of your fears driven by society. I'm overweight, yet pizza is the best choice for a happy family. A society where mental illness strives. Why can't people open their eyes? Spoon feeding childern poison and expecting them to love themselves. In school teachers force health into thier minds. At home, parents feed them poison to save time. Re-creating, reprogramming their fragile little minds, yet still expecting them to feel fine. Feeling down? Have a happy meal, gain a pound. Overweight? Shame, shame, you must maintain the image. The image forced into your mind. This was our greatest fall. Upon dieting we call. Skelington stave me. Anorexia at it's finest. Anorexia thin and spineless. Some call you timeless. But only recently you made your debute. Make me feel brand new. Reprogram my mind. Make me feel fine. Thank God for thinsperation. Oh Anorexia, my new inspiration. Make me feel pretty. Just like the skinny girls on TV. Loosing pounds, one by one. Still weighed down by a ton. The weight of pleasing it. The nightmare society created. Influenced by what we see. Finally morphed into the tragedy of the normality of this weight obsessed society.
0
Apr 9, 2018
Apr 9, 2018 at 3:44 PM UTC
Weight Obsessed Society
Today in an overweight society, The type of society that deals anxiety, Anxiety, anxiety, in this overweight society. Today in an overweight society, The type of society where diet pills are a normality, Normality, Normality in an overweight society. Today in the eyes of an underweight tragedy, Influenced so greatly by an overweight society, Tragedy, Tragedy, in an overweight society. Influenced by a society of fatty foods, Fear becoming a more common mood, The fear of falling into the normality The normality of this tragedy. The overweight society. Influence by obesity. Striving to be what their minds see, The minds of the children trapped, Trapped by this overweight society. Influenced by the skinny girls on TV Only followed by ads showing fatty foods society demans you eat Have a cheeseburger, upgrade to a large fry, yet still look like her, it's pounded in her mind. Young minds believe what they see. Morphed into the tragedy of society. A society where eating disorders strive A society where an 8 year old can consious you starve themselve to feel pretty. The definition of pretty based simply on TV Yet nobody questions this more than imperfect society. Elementary ages childern being fed fat then forced to stand in front of a mirror. Put a toy in poison and call it magic. Oh yes, what a fantasy. A fantasy forcing you into reality. The reality becoming your worst nightmare. The reality of your fears driven by society. I'm overweight, yet pizza is the best choice for a happy family. A society where mental illness strives. Why can't people open their eyes? Spoon feeding childern poison and expecting them to love themselves. In school teachers force health into thier minds. At home, parents feed them poison to save time. Re-creating, reprogramming their fragile little minds, yet still expecting them to feel fine. Feeling down? Have a happy meal, gain a pound. Overweight? Shame, shame, you must maintain the image. The image forced into your mind. This was our greatest fall. Upon dieting we call. Skelington stave me. Anorexia at it's finest. Anorexia thin and spineless. Some call you timeless. But only recently you made your debute. Make me feel brand new. Reprogram my mind. Make me feel fine. Thank God for thinsperation. Oh Anorexia, my new inspiration. Make me feel pretty. Just like the skinny girls on TV. Loosing pounds, one by one. Still weighed down by a ton. The weight of pleasing it. The nightmare society created. Influenced by what we see. Finally morphed into the tragedy of the normality of this weight obsessed society.
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65
I have this theory that butterflies taste like bubblegum. When I was a kid, my tongue was a permanent shade of bright pink.  Shoving as many pieces of BubbleYum into my mouth as I could fit was the epitome of happiness, and when I could fit an entire package at once I knew there was nothing I couldn’t achieve. And I’m sure that right now if you cut me open my stomach would be a fluorescent pink, because when I see your face in my mind as I’m sitting in class or when your name is on my tongue before I fall asleep, that’s what it tastes like. Bubblegum. But please don’t cut me open. My dissection would be too ****** anyway, and far too colorful to detect butterflies… Because my blood runs red, white, and blue. When I was younger my mom would always tell me that as I grew older my tastes would change.  Of course, she meant that eventually I would grow to like peas, but even though that still hasn’t happened, she was right.   Back then red, white and blue tasted like       hamburgers                and apple pie                        and baseball.   But just recently I cut my finger – and as I brought it to my lips I tasted       lingonberries                and fish and                         skiing. Have you ever wondered why blood tastes like metal?  It is the SWORDS and SHIELDS that flow through my veins, passed down from ancestors of millennia past.  And every time I am injured it pours out in protest, those ancient warriors urging me to fight against this strange land and this strange culture. I was born away from home, as were my parents and grandparents before me. And as I feel the shapes of foreign words in my mouth they taste like meeting an old friend. Because I’ve come to realize that my blood never ran red, white and blue.                                                                     It runs rødt, hvitt og blått.
0
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 8:16 PM UTC
Bubblegum
I have this theory that butterflies taste like bubblegum. When I was a kid, my tongue was a permanent shade of bright pink.  Shoving as many pieces of BubbleYum into my mouth as I could fit was the epitome of happiness, and when I could fit an entire package at once I knew there was nothing I couldn’t achieve. And I’m sure that right now if you cut me open my stomach would be a fluorescent pink, because when I see your face in my mind as I’m sitting in class or when your name is on my tongue before I fall asleep, that’s what it tastes like. Bubblegum. But please don’t cut me open. My dissection would be too ****** anyway, and far too colorful to detect butterflies… Because my blood runs red, white, and blue. When I was younger my mom would always tell me that as I grew older my tastes would change.  Of course, she meant that eventually I would grow to like peas, but even though that still hasn’t happened, she was right.   Back then red, white and blue tasted like       hamburgers                and apple pie                        and baseball.   But just recently I cut my finger – and as I brought it to my lips I tasted       lingonberries                and fish and                         skiing. Have you ever wondered why blood tastes like metal?  It is the SWORDS and SHIELDS that flow through my veins, passed down from ancestors of millennia past.  And every time I am injured it pours out in protest, those ancient warriors urging me to fight against this strange land and this strange culture. I was born away from home, as were my parents and grandparents before me. And as I feel the shapes of foreign words in my mouth they taste like meeting an old friend. Because I’ve come to realize that my blood never ran red, white and blue.                                                                     It runs rødt, hvitt og blått.
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25
People change. I realized that in the last couple of years. I watch some of the best people in my life I once loved grow into something else. Or someone else. It's weird watching the people you knew before you was even able to walk grow into someone else. I know everyone goes through it. Maturity. And not everyone turns out what you thought. Maybe my problem was that I wanted everything to stay the same. A safe zone I guess you could call it. I realized there are two different things you can change into. Or two different roads you could say. Or the simple good vs bad. Maybe it's the coincidence that everyone I grew up with took the opposite direction I thought they would of never went. I talked to my Dad once about change. How I told him that seeing people change hurts. He told me seeing people change isn't what hurts, it remembering what they use to be. And I have to be honest that was one of the few times I didn't argue back. I realized he was right. I hated what the people I once called my life turn into something I hate. So pretty much the people I know became people I knew. It's really funny too when they told you many times that they aren't going to be something, surprise us both, and do what they said they wouldn't do. But there's one thing I'm afraid of. What if the person I was so sure I knew, the person I knew before I was even born wasn't even the person I thought I knew, but instead they took off a mask. That they didn't change, they just revealed who they really are. I think I would rather think they changed then they revealed. Or maybe people don't change, but their priorities do. In the end though, it's hard to watch people change, and it's harder remembering. But recently I learned that people also change to better themselves. I learned that life is about changing for the better. If you had to let go of some people along the way, then go ahead. Incredible change happens in your life when you decide to take control in what you do have power over. I always known that I couldn't change people's decisions. But I could change mines. Even though I'm still figuring out things for myself, I know I'm in control in the road I want to take. Now the funny part is I just need to take my own advise I'm giving myself instead of being scared.
0
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 8:15 PM UTC
People Change
People change. I realized that in the last couple of years. I watch some of the best people in my life I once loved grow into something else. Or someone else. It's weird watching the people you knew before you was even able to walk grow into someone else. I know everyone goes through it. Maturity. And not everyone turns out what you thought. Maybe my problem was that I wanted everything to stay the same. A safe zone I guess you could call it. I realized there are two different things you can change into. Or two different roads you could say. Or the simple good vs bad. Maybe it's the coincidence that everyone I grew up with took the opposite direction I thought they would of never went. I talked to my Dad once about change. How I told him that seeing people change hurts. He told me seeing people change isn't what hurts, it remembering what they use to be. And I have to be honest that was one of the few times I didn't argue back. I realized he was right. I hated what the people I once called my life turn into something I hate. So pretty much the people I know became people I knew. It's really funny too when they told you many times that they aren't going to be something, surprise us both, and do what they said they wouldn't do. But there's one thing I'm afraid of. What if the person I was so sure I knew, the person I knew before I was even born wasn't even the person I thought I knew, but instead they took off a mask. That they didn't change, they just revealed who they really are. I think I would rather think they changed then they revealed. Or maybe people don't change, but their priorities do. In the end though, it's hard to watch people change, and it's harder remembering. But recently I learned that people also change to better themselves. I learned that life is about changing for the better. If you had to let go of some people along the way, then go ahead. Incredible change happens in your life when you decide to take control in what you do have power over. I always known that I couldn't change people's decisions. But I could change mines. Even though I'm still figuring out things for myself, I know I'm in control in the road I want to take. Now the funny part is I just need to take my own advise I'm giving myself instead of being scared.
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14
We pride ourselves on being ‘America the Free’, But how are we free when a he can’t marry a he? Homosexuality is found in over 90 species, but homophobia is only found in one. If you want to blame someone, blame the straight people. They’re the ones who keep having gay sons. Not one Disney princess is a lesbian, Not one superhero is gay. Not all girls want a prince charming. And not all men want a heroine someday. They say, "Love is blind." So why are we so blind to fact that love is love? What has America come to that we’d rather see men holding guns, than holding hands? Until recently, in the US military, admitting that you’re gay, had bans. Homosexuality isn’t a disease. You can’t catch it, and you can’t cure it. Please. Tiger Woods can have 19 mistresses, Britney Spears can have a 55 hour marriage, Kim Kardashian can get married for publicity, But GAYS are corrupting the institution of marriage? Closets are for clothes, not hiding.
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Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 4:56 PM UTC
Def Poem- Homophobia
What is appropriate to say about the changes in your life. At 23 I was confused about a girl, under the sculpted pines. Quietly, my friends and I contemplate death. A subject, until recently, unknown to us in such a variety of forms. Nuclear flash to exploding blood vessel in the brain, control eludes us. Heirs to a society adept with numbers, we run in the park and eat whole grains, increasing survival odds. The city and the mountain are two hard anvils against which our hot lives are shaped. Love is the fire, and the need for love. To be shaped by the lover's warm hands, like clay. Alive, almost sure of it.
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Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 9:37 AM UTC
Alive
If not for hellopoetry I would have given up The writing was starting to take its toll Left me emotionally exhausted I was forced to take a break For all my energy it had drained Sleepless nights, endless lines Trying to switch off my brain Left me depressed When sentences formed A story I'd tell About my life in hell Sometimes dramatised to a new level Sometimes I have seen myself become the devil All my emotions that stain the page The blood, sweat and tears Written into each line Left me losing moments in time And for this writing became a crime Didn't feel like I was utilising my mind Until recently I realised this was the only legacy I would leave behind I've seen this art in a whole new light Through words on a page, I've shown my fight I've shown all my emotions, I have been totally open Gave my all in every line Sprinkled in a flavour of rhyme If not for hellopoetry all I'd have is blank pages A mind full of lines, forgotten in time Took some time to unwind And that is when I realised These writings and I are bound for life I've learned to embrace this now Finally proud of all my works, how has it taken me this long To fall in love with this art If not for hellopoetry An appreciation I would never have tasted And this whole community I've embraced it Don't care if you love or hate it It's made me make some changes If not for hellopoetry There are talents I may never have uncovered Some of us are still so young, Still, more room left to improve The elder ones raising us up Understanding a whole new love for this art I once said These lyrics were written in blood Straight from the arteries from my heart That metaphorically speaking I spread all I am, all across the page Bled the led with what I felt   So much heart into every verse All this time it was never a curse It was something special I've been gifted To get all these thoughts out of my system If not for hellopoetry I wouldn't be here...caught within this poetic atmosphere ©2018 Written By Benji James
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Apr 2, 2018
Apr 2, 2018 at 2:18 AM UTC
If not for Hellopoetry
If not for hellopoetry I would have given up The writing was starting to take its toll Left me emotionally exhausted I was forced to take a break For all my energy it had drained Sleepless nights, endless lines Trying to switch off my brain Left me depressed When sentences formed A story I'd tell About my life in hell Sometimes dramatised to a new level Sometimes I have seen myself become the devil All my emotions that stain the page The blood, sweat and tears Written into each line Left me losing moments in time And for this writing became a crime Didn't feel like I was utilising my mind Until recently I realised this was the only legacy I would leave behind I've seen this art in a whole new light Through words on a page, I've shown my fight I've shown all my emotions, I have been totally open Gave my all in every line Sprinkled in a flavour of rhyme If not for hellopoetry all I'd have is blank pages A mind full of lines, forgotten in time Took some time to unwind And that is when I realised These writings and I are bound for life I've learned to embrace this now Finally proud of all my works, how has it taken me this long To fall in love with this art If not for hellopoetry An appreciation I would never have tasted And this whole community I've embraced it Don't care if you love or hate it It's made me make some changes If not for hellopoetry There are talents I may never have uncovered Some of us are still so young, Still, more room left to improve The elder ones raising us up Understanding a whole new love for this art I once said These lyrics were written in blood Straight from the arteries from my heart That metaphorically speaking I spread all I am, all across the page Bled the led with what I felt   So much heart into every verse All this time it was never a curse It was something special I've been gifted To get all these thoughts out of my system If not for hellopoetry I wouldn't be here...caught within this poetic atmosphere ©2018 Written By Benji James
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59
Serendipity: Something that happens in a beneficial way without looking for it. It has recently occurred to me that you are my serendipity.
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Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 6:27 PM UTC
Serendipity
I'm not spewing no hate, I'm just being honest. This not a Disney Channel movie, no Pocahontas. Not really a fan of Father's Day, cause i ain't have a father. I felt as a kid, he was just like why bother. As i got older i wished that he had tried harder. Consistent phone calls, that would have been a good starter. But i ain't get any of it, and soon i was like **** it. I got tired of waiting for something and receiving nothing. At a point in time i started to hate him. My heart for him was cold, like who the hell wants to chase him. That feeling went on for a couple years. My heart and mental kept changing like i was switching gears. Since we being honest recently those feelings stopped. You can't hate a stranger and truth is i don't know my pops. Although you said you love me and i said i love you back. Love and hate has twin rules, so what type of love is that. I mean it's not sincere. It's like you're pushed to say it like you're pressured by your peers. And I'm not saying that it's sad and that brings me tears. But man-to-man it ain't something that i want to hear.
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Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 4:05 PM UTC
Not A Father's Day Fan
The human mind is an interesting thing Mine is very As it tends to wander I mean Explore I have been told by an authority My wife That she's never seen one like it Although how she can see a mind I don't know She has seen a lot in her life Both with and before me She was a Travel Agent She's been to Turkey I like turkey I made an interesting stuffing for turkey once It was during my time in the seafood retail business In a fish market It, the stuffing I mean, had shrimp, scallops and crayfish in it My wife didn't like it much, she's of Irish heritage She's been to Ireland too Twice Once in college and once with her family Ireland is where Delorian made his cars in the 1980s Before he was arrested for trafficking in ******* I have not been to Ireland I have been to France, Belgium and England I stayed in Waterloo Belgium for two weeks In the 80's When I was 25 Waterloo is where Napoleon was finally vanquished Beaten by an Englishman They have a monument, the lion, on top of a big hill there I had to climb it twice The first time I forgot my camera I got a new camera recently A Pentax I have had several since Waterloo The camera hasn't been anywhere interesting Just my back yard I use it to take pictures of birds At our feeder In the big maple tree On the ground There is even a turkey that comes in our yard My wife's been to Turkey She was a Travel Agent
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Jul 28, 2012
Jul 28, 2012 at 11:11 AM UTC
A Human Mind
Do you see these nails that are bitten and torn to shreds. Do you see my hair that is mangled and tangled, it hasn't been washed in days. Do you see this acne on my face, I pick at it till it leaves scars. Do you see the clothes I'm wearing, I bet I haven't changed them in weeks. Do you see this room, I haven't cleaned it in months Do you see my teeth, they bleed because I haven't brushed them in awhile. Do you see I go on binges of eating or not eating, cause I feel guilty. Do you see I go on benders if drinking or smoking. Do you see my eyes and face are red from crying recently. Do you see my texts I never send cause you wouldn't care. Do you see when I say "I'm ok", "I'm fine" that those are just lies. Do you see my smile and laugh, it's mostly fake.   Do you see how I sleep all day and wake up and go right back to bed. You don't see but you should. This list could go on for infinitely. It's signs like this that should be noticed. Depression, anxiety or any mental illness is important for learning the signs. Your story matters just as well as your voice.
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Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 5:24 PM UTC
Notice anything
I hear the rhythmic clapping And feel the pounding of feet on the ground As dust swirls and dances around While I sit facing the sun In all her divine beauty. Encased in the wood of the red gum tree, I am at peace. Burnum carves my totem outside Surrounded by holy men, Loved ones and ancestors. This is my signifier and protection. I am Miki the moon Recently returned to my tribe Heeding the call of the spirits. My people mourn deeply But know I will come again To be at one with them, First I must commune with the great creator Rainbow spirit of the sky For now is the time for dreaming.
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Mar 11, 2018
Mar 11, 2018 at 1:21 AM UTC
Miki