"recieved" poems
Sometimes
people do things
bad things
things that hurt you
physically and emotionally
but the key to happiness
in that sense
is to accept
the apologies you never recieved
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 9:19 PM UTC
You changed the colors of your hair
We don't care
You got an A on your test
We don't care
You got a new car
We don't care
You recieved a promotion
We don't care
You ate at that new resturaunt
We don't care
You bought new dress to flaunt
We don't care
Children are starving
Madmen are are carving
Up women they grabbed of the streets
Say goodbye to our heartbeats
Soldiers are dying
Innocent people are crying
we can try to fight starvation
But we are headed to damnation
but you don't care
It has nothing to do with you
just keep breathing your clean air
You have more important things to do
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 12:19 PM UTC
She did not keep the peace, was not the conformist in silence, was not a normal person. She was the rebellious martyr filled with centuries upon centuries of the world's anger and trash. She did not yield for a rule, never stormed for the greater good of currency, and was born to die. But of course, not before she recieved what she thrived for.
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 6:20 PM UTC
The size of Allah,
Is more than my little mind can handle, it makes me stay in awe
We are but none existent if you would compare
Just remember, my children, to fulfill your prayer
His mercy if far bigger than his wrath
He wants us to stick to his path
The path which he has picked for us,
So do not follow the devil, for he only means us harm
My children,educate yourselfs and think of God, he keeps us warm
Think about all blessings you have recieved
Even the ones you wouldn't have believed in
For your own sake, please don't commit sin
It is far better to be righteous and pure
Righteous deeds are for a sick heart some kind of cure
Indeed, he is the one who created the heaven with might
And he is the one who constantly expands it. Has this switched a light ?
This is just one of many signs you can find
Now rest, it is already night...
Let us sleep, then tomorrow do what's right
~ Umi
Jan 13, 2018
Jan 13, 2018 at 2:00 PM UTC
Forgiveness, to forgive (for me)
Is essentially subtle- to a fault,
Beautifully it's practiced,
Yet inherently mistaught:
To ask of anything more
From the person you've done wrong
Is blatantly selfish, at its core
Pressuring them along.
Unless exactly, specific and honestly, you reiterate once more.
All the reasons which you petition forgiveness
And what you're sorry for:
To draw conclusions, assumptions and things, without the facts in place-
Was to right out start off in
an Unreasonable head space.
Furthermore, my tone of voice
And the disrespect it achieved
Is not what you- Alena, not at all
From me; should've ever recieved.
Lastly, explicitly I have to say;
I'm sorry for my aggressive words.
And the fact I reacted that way is
absurd
A retort- as a minuet or two, voice note
Deserved the block- and what you wrote.
*I'm sorry about this- discrepancy
I actually enjoyed you working with me.
I'll leave this here for you to find, &
Hope these words were worth your time.
When you read, know these are sincere; my apologies- true.
Not just mere pretty, fluffy words for you.*
Poetry's something I, almost know, you appreciate~ so heres an apologistic-free vers hyphenate.
Nov 21, 2023
Nov 21, 2023 at 5:56 AM UTC
Leather brown, bomber down, hit the bottom, rise again. The resounding sounds bounce around. It helps to misunderstand the plan, so follow these directives if you can.
Green amygdala your orange eyes create suspense.
Hipster blue, the denim, black boots, and those paperback books.
He walks with attitude,
reads for romance.
Magnetic the charm bringing them in. Stood in the centre as the hurricane spins. Tethered to nothing, not even a creed. A miracle in the making, an empty street, a canvas unpainted, a jewellery box recieved.
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 6:07 AM UTC
They say we have these anchors
They drown us out at sea
But this chain bound tight to my ankle
Is not fastened to a weight.
It just keeps going
Link by link
It has no end
No beginning
I was born into this aquatic life
From my earliest days
I was held underwater
And each day on has added to my chain
Not like the chain of Jacob Marley
In Dickens' tale,
Not forged by greed
But birthed from every thought
That I cannot forget
And every blow to my persistance
I have ever recieved
It all stays with me
And we each have these chains.
But most grow gills
And sprout fins.
And learn to swim .
But here I am.
Still drowning.
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 11:49 PM UTC
how does one manipulate others how does one manipulate each other i dont get it.
this world was at peace then random one pokes at them until a ****** war starts.
you may be the biggest ****** for it but you can cry and moan and ***** because you recieved a beating that you started i say your manipulation will be your down fall you can tell your mom your dad hell call the cops because theres one option in mind shut the hell up and fight what you started jesus these people are the biggest hypocrites i ever seen because this one person has ruined my life ever since he was born so when your falling off a cliff you can fall to the rocks like a the little coward you are your pestilence smells like a rotten apple core
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 2:24 PM UTC
there will come a day
when father time will grow
jealous of us and
the fireflies will
turn off their glow
when the diamonds
wont seem so precious
and all the joys
of this world will
seem foolish and low
and i will have to
let you go
dear mama
sometimes i make you laugh
just to hear the joys
youve stopped showing
on your face
to breath your
attempts to cough up
your worries and drown
in my love
to watch you unfold
at the ends and
sease to be held in
at your seams
there will come a day
when everything
i have ever said to you
will flutter off like a thousand
butterflies in a storm
and my actions
will weigh heavier
than the 98 pounds
they've made of me
dear mama
i know i wont be able
to hold your stare
for as long youve held
my hand but im hoping
the seconds i've been given
havent already carved
a gourge in your daylight
since you recieved
me in place of a son
instead of building
a doll house of regrets
i vow to keep the
reality of your name true
wont glorify the time
you tried to spill
yourself in the wind
with the barrel of a
police issued gloc
because the shock
of your babies moving away
too much of a trigger
bet i let the ringing
of unfired suicide rounds
bounce off every new york city
sidewalk slab i've chased
in an attempt to
run from myself
when i left you
know that i held
the crotchet needles
you made my baby blanket
with in my chest
had the day
of your second stroke
in my heart
and the only way
i could release them was to
shed my skin under the chin
of a brooklyn boarding house
so dont frown at the anatomy
of a new york city skyline
just know it offered
the shoulders i needed
at that moment
when father time
grew jealous of us
and the fireflies turned
off their glow
i grew a light of my own
dear mama
something happened
between me watching you
relearn how to walk
around the same time
i learned to
double knot my tennis shoes
when everyone assumed
my ignorance was bliss
and let the brilliance
in your bones become
as black as night
without ever noticing
i was afraid of the dark
what have these years
done to us?
to make me bloom
in the bright of day
while baking the stalk
that is you
i cant stand to watch
you wither
wont you shine too
dear mama
Sep 2, 2012
Sep 2, 2012 at 5:42 PM UTC
Sometimes I wonder,
Sometimes I ponder,
Why do I love her.
At one look she's valentine,
and the next... she's somebody else
But like a spectre on Holloween's day,
its all but a mask.
A mask that someone else used to wear.
A mask filled with fear, grief and pain.
Masks that fills up the small dents in her heart.
I ran, she glimpsed, I reached, she smiled.
A great story it is. Yet another,
I ran, I reached, an empty look from her face.
A story that makes me cry and kneel to the Lord.
It's a difficult love indeed and temptations are real and big.
Yet, I could not find a reason to steer and drive away.
And against all logic, Love compels me to stay.
The love that compelled my savior to be hanged on a tree.
A love that never gives up,
a love that is defined by no other word than love it self.
Is the love that keeps me going.
It is because of love, that I could not let go.
Because, my savior himself did not let go.
Even at times that I betray and spat him to his face
He did not let go. He held on, He struggled.
He pulled me, He embraced me.
My Rabbi once thought me,
that love is both sweet and deadly.
love in its ultimate form, will lead one person to die.
"Die to self" my Rabbi says.
Until when can I die to my self?
Scarry as it is, I am ready to die in the name of love,
Scarry as it is, I am ready to die to show one person love,
To lit the light of hope in her, to light back faith in her heart.
As great purposes awaits her, to be a sign of hope is a great pleasure indeed.
So am I crazy enough to lose the world in the name of love?
Sadly, I'am still incapable of loving like my savior does.
For he is perfect and I.... am being perfected.
We are of no comparison,
He was innocent, yet I was guilty.
guilty as accused.
I am but a mere speck of dust compared to His glory.
O how can I find love in the eyes of my valentine?
I cried out and He answered,
"You don't" He says,
For love is not about you,
but it is about dying to your self
With this love that I recieved,
I am on my way.
Fighting fears, lies and struggles,
I am on my way.
As love compels me to be,
Therefore I concluded that
I.... must be..... Half-Crazy.
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 2:17 PM UTC
behind barricades
before the red bandanna meant you were a Crip or Blood
undaunted, refusing to be
..........intimidated
nameless
.....(known only
to
..........................YOUR LOVE
as "love")
the streets are red with the ******
dreams our youth is bleeding
on these streets
but then the gangs recieved from the c.i.a.
control over the drug trade
and killed us all
-----
(behind barricades)
the liars are everywhere and those most visable
are
the greatest of the liars
speaking softly sanely
to you all................
.....................in
words-
impossible
--
love is a powerful feeling
only love
means a thing
Aug 2, 2010
Aug 2, 2010 at 4:13 PM UTC
To just be near you
Kiss the lips
That I always dreamed of
To appreciate
How far we've come
To see
That I went from the
Girl who wanted
To the girl
Who finally recieved
And all because of you
I am happy
Because you
Are in my life.
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 1:53 PM UTC
She was the type of girl
who tried her best to love
but recieved none in return
He was the type of boy
who didn't care for much
who didn't crave any touch
She was the type of girl
who place dandelions in her room
to remember that one day
everything would fly away
He was the type of boy
who rode motorbikes by choice
the thrill of the risk
to be close to Death's kiss
She was the type of girl
who had a firm grip on insanity
and often gave way to reality
He was the type of boy
who believe in the realistic roads
and never thought twice about ghosts
She was the type of girl
who didn't believe in choice
but believed in broken toys
He was the type of boy
who rode around all night
looking for misled fights
They were soulmates
But they didn't know
Passing each other in the hallway
Because they thought no one
could understand their pain
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 12:07 PM UTC
Under the streetlight, covered by moonlight
I sat upon a bench, waiting to unite
took out my diary, flash-backed our memory
read all your letters, sunken in harmony
listening to the rain drops, took out my umbrella
reminisces your voice, how you call me senorita
buses after buses, all kind had gone by
still neither recieved a call nor a reply
thoughts in my head, ran a sec per mile
my brain submerged in doubt, but heart said to wait
someone took me in arms, hugged so tight
i trusted my heart, so was it you...
Jun 20, 2022
Jun 20, 2022 at 11:45 AM UTC
The air is brittle this ominous, wintry night.
The slivers of a life you used to know still haunt you, as surely as you have permitted them to be a haunt to others.
Without question, it is those memories that spur your ruminations; that cause your copious circumlocutions; which compell you to stand on this somber boulevard in front of this crumbling, but once stately manor that now is a languid presence with the solitary purpose of looming over the vast grounds.
It is obligatory that you proceed along the avenue that used to split the yards that are now overgrown and chocoblock with twisted vines, and thistles.
You pause, to gather your strength.
One deep inhailation and then you hold your breath as you grip the tarnished handle and lock leaver.
With a perfect measure of strength your thumb recalls, the mechanism is undone.
Your arm pushes forward.
The silence is disturbed by a warbling creak as the heavy door is slowly opened.
You exhale, then before you lose your nerve you quickly pass through the ingress and enter into the foyer,
which is instantly familiar in the dim, flickering light and the long, slender adumbrations effected by the gossamer encaked voltives jutting from the dusty walls.
Though it has remaned unchanged
throughout all the time that has passed, standing in the ornate room affirms that the warmth with which you used to be recieved here has been abandoned to a frigidity.
You feel as if this room remembers you.
This is as far as I dare go with you, my friend, though I know you must continue.
I have listened to your stories, so
I know you have many rooms to search.
The closier that you seek is in a matter that is not my own.
I will depart upon rendering these words of warning:
When visiting the past,
As you daringly explore these often haralded halways,
Be careful what you leave behind.
Take caution not to lose yourself,
For a shadow lingers in the Suite Sublime.
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 6:59 PM UTC
Message in a bottle
with a cork plugged into the top
sealing it shut, suction tight
Nothing can penetrate the bond between the cork and the glass
I wrap my hand around it,
my palm pressed against the grooves underneath the cork
which press into my palm,
creating more grooves
However much I heave,
however tight I contract my muscles
until my body quivers as my lungs expand,
until there is nothing left for me to do but release
Release my muscles
Release my lungs
Release my hope
Because your bottle will always stay closed
Nothing will be discovered if its desire is to be a mystery
So I'll set this bottle on the rocks at my feet
I'll leave it there, waiting for a wave to wash up onto the coast
I hope it takes it away with its tide
so it can see the world from inside the glass
All I have left are the grooves on my palm
all I have left are weaker muscles and exhausted lungs
to remember the message I never recieved
That rests somewhere distant
never to be read
protected by a cork.
Nov 26, 2011
Nov 26, 2011 at 5:44 PM UTC
He accuses me of lying
Even though im being honest
He said he sent me a text
And did i not response
But i assure him
I never recieved anything
And he says "yeah right"
It hurts me to know
That i could swear on everything
And im still a liar
I wish for once he would believe me
But of course that will never happen
I hate the fact that im always being blame
For things i have never made
Im tired of being in this position
Always being accuse of lying
Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 5:09 AM UTC
No body knows me
let the grey be all
they see.
Let only I
and the owl alone
catch that scent
of death in the air.
From across the
blazing asphalt
I watch children
chase balloons
across manicured lawns.
I stand like a
ghost and will the
balloons to float
just out of
reach of a
double braided
little girl.
As the wind catches
the childrens losses
the faintest
of smiles
flashes across
my face.
As I look
up and catch
4 more losses
that have now
been forever
taken by
the winds
of my memory.
A message I
send to one of
my only friends.
Let it reach
him or her
before I change
my mind again.
I've opened up
and presented to
them nothing.
No body knows
me,
let the poppies
blood cleanse me.
The pain I produce
is not infectious.
It's private,
it slowly tortures me.
Like the stammer
and those
years,
it destroys me.
I count four colors
forever taken
by the wind.
And 3 children
who's
teary eyes
and scornful
stares are now
fixed on me.
I look to
the heavens and
smile toward their
loss.
Let those floating
colors be their
only hurt.
Let them never
know my smile,
Shield them
from the
Dragon.
I'm numb enough,
I can take it,
Let them be
and lay all that you
got right here.
Right over here.
Right all over
me.
Lay it on me,
your payments
I've recieved
before.
And yet somehow
I find myself still
indebt to you.
Let them grow
old and wonder.
Let them wonder
before
they began to
forget.
Let them join all
the rest.
Let them
become
enemies
of my sorrow.
Let them quietly
fall into their
existence.
Let them Be.
You've already
taken all that
was left
of me.
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 11:50 AM UTC
No latte
no "three men walked into a bar ..."
no sun salutation
can give me that reinvigorating boost
no melody
(and for that matter no harmony)
no pedicure
no crisp fall walk
can ease my anxious state
I am unsettled, trying to find a surface to settle on
so I settle down to the lowest parts of Maslow's mountain
searching for comfort in edible bites and physical bits,
deep in the valley where I should not be
"How ya doin'?"
"OhI'mgood!"
Ain't got time for the real answer
Ain't got time
Ain't got time
cause I won't give it to myself
I was never good at prioritizing
Cause if I knew my priorites
I would remember what a priority it is
to bend to my knees
sink into the ground
and reverently gaze UP
I have not imagined the answers and peace I have recieved
You have to open your mind to see His work
He is visible
in earth and sky
Sometimes He has to remind me
but when He does ...
well, I can enjoy the melodies
and lattes
and jokes again
P.W.C.
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 5:56 PM UTC
Inside my skin, there's anguish.
It twists & burns.
Inside my heart, there's emptiness.
It bleeds & aches.
Inside this vessel, there's continual longing.
Longing for pleasures & acceptance.
Nothing is found & nothing is recieved.
This vessel, it seems
is haunted!
Oct 7, 2012
Oct 7, 2012 at 12:01 AM UTC
Mars, they say, is God of War
Venus Love...
But not no more.
Mars is red, an angry shade
With knuckles like
A sickle's blade
His right hook
has some might in store
He lays her on
The threshing floor
There he whacks
The chaff from wheat
She's just a dog
For him to beat...
Mars is red
Venus is blue
Black as well
A nasty hue
Her friends tell her
To up & leave
For all the beatings
She's recieved
But she knows
That if she leaves
He'd find... and ****
With none to grieve.
So she stays down
On knees to pray
That Mars would simply
Go away...
He will not
She's bound to lose
Red & blue...
A purple bruise.
Finally she'd had enough
Packed some food
And all her stuff
Before he could
Wake up to belt her
She went into a caring shelter
He searched and searched
But never found
His goddess was
Nowhere around
He drank and drank
His days away
Finally t'was
As she had prayed
Mars hit bars
With liquored breath
He finally drank
Himself to death.
Mars was red
And Venus blue
But now she's FREE
She could be YOU.
.
SøułSurvivør
4/20/2018
Jul 10, 2019
Jul 10, 2019 at 4:41 AM UTC
The day sneaks up behind me
Telling me my time has come
Time to leave behind all that I've worked for
Knocking on every door
Begging for a chance at life
I'm leaving and I have one wish
Don't forget me when I leave
Don't forget me when I fall into the emptiness
Don't forget me when I try to escape what consumes me
My time has come to say goodbye
My flight to the heavens has arrived
Survived the battle of life for so long
Everyday closer to the loss of this everlasting battle
Don't know if my imprints in this life will last forever
I'm leaving and I have one wish
Don't let me drift away into the nothingness of the forgotten
Don't let me fade into a memory
Don't let me be lost amongst the commons
I came and I made my mark
Used my dreams to light way out of the dark
Wanna be remembered as more then just a common man
Want people to give a **** about me when I leave this cage
Don't want to be recieved into the hands of the unmourned
Don't want to spend eternity feeling forlorn
I'm leaving and I have just one wish
Don't let me turn into a torn page from a notebook
All I have in this world means nothing when I'm gone
I don't want all that you have of me to be just another memory
Want my story told for all to hear
So I can rid myself of this fear
I'm leaving and I have just one wish
Don't leave me in this cage lingering in the dark space in the back of your mind
Don't wanna be lost for no one to find
Getting tired of being left behind
Stepped up on this plateau
Up here for the world to see
That this is me and I won't be forgotten
Won't be forgotten
I'm leaving this world and I have just one wish
One wish
Don't forget me
Don't forget me
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 2:35 AM UTC
I took you to the top of a Colorado mountain
A yogi with blonde hair and light eyes
Told us to let go of our anger, let it seep through our skin like a fountain
And evaporate into the angelic blue skies
Let it go
Let something go
She said "Be here, happy, now."
You told me that night
You felt relieved for the first time, though you didn't know how
But you finally felt you were not going to fight
Yourself
Your mind
I bombarded you with my energy
I cocooned you in my love
I gave you my spirit
I only hope you look back on our wanderings
That you are thankful for what you recieved
And that you still hold in you a bit of my energy, a bit of my peace.
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 12:20 PM UTC
I yearn to feel complete,
whole,
and full.
For so long I have felt
empty,
weak,
and vulnerable.
I'm sick of this
disease.
I'm tired of this
tortuous thing that I have
so unluckily
recieved.
I'm done with trying to fight it;
for I am the champion of my mind.
Victory shall be mine;
forever and always
I
will
reign.
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 10:57 PM UTC
When she recieved her first 'A', and hung it on
the frigde, they called her Alexandria, and
they chanted the name with pride.
When she tried on make-up for the first time, and asked
her father how she looked, he simply nodded and said
you look beautiful, Alexandria, though she knew he was lying.
When she saw her first naked boy, at a party out in province,
she questioned whether to stay or go. All he had to do was call
her Alex, and her mind was fully made up.
When she smoked her first cigarette after going to bed with
that boy she'd met moments prior, everyone called her Lexi,
whispering it between moans and drags from cheap cigarettes.
Now, on most evenings, outside the local bar, she stands on the
corner, pacing back and forth, and asks herself if that test still hangs
on the fridge, and what they'd call her now...
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 9:44 PM UTC