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"redirect" poems
#An Exegesis on the Humiliation of the Word The world is ruled by darkness. What appears as harmless is theater, what pretends neutral is already bent. The macrocosm corrodes; and in the microcosm, its reflection gleams.. even in places meant to be sanctuaries of truth. A poetry site, born as refuge for broken voices, becomes another stage of control. Here too the phrase resounds:   neutralize the threat. But neutralization is not annihilation. It is paralysis. It is psy-ops. It is the removal of anxiety.. not a side-effect, but the aim itself. Darkness builds its stage for this alone: that the  "angel of light" may drown his own reckoning beneath a world of deception-built self comfort, so he need never feel the truth he already knows. Comfort is his curtain, numbness his crown..   *the removal of his own anxiety;       his game.* This is why the world is his theater-- *Darkness does not destroy at first.. it sedates, comforts, smothers.* Hence.. The whole world is his fully gaslit stronghold,     ..for now. Fade back into the moment-- The young poet arrives, bringing her unspoken pain, her hope for words to heal. Instead, her very wounds are seized as footholds. Hearts. Reposts. Endless affirmation. Not to strengthen her voice, but to redirect it. She is seduced into  belonging, and her trauma becomes currency. Unresolved, her ache entwined with lust-- a sacrifice prepared  for false altars. The angel of light  has done his work: offering inclusion without transformation, belonging without responsibility, “light” without source. The poet is neutralized. Her searching silenced, her voice absorbed into fog. Those who carry this fog cling to cowardice. Unable to face the judgment within, they align themselves to the herd; envy-filled, they only know to mock. Yet they replicate themselves, so their refusal of Light is never revealed-- *Perfectly exemplifying their "Great Example" the most envy-based mocker  of all.* The microcosm mirrors the macrocosm. What nations suffer, individuals now endure--    Comfort without clarity.    Belonging without truth.    Safety without healing. Yet the living Word endures. Every attempt to humiliate it only makes its fire burn clearer. Carriers of darkness can swarm, ****** and smother.. but they cannot create. The true word cannot be erased. Unfiltered, unedited, spoken from a reconciled temple, it pierces fog. It reveals. It heals. And so we speak.. not for ourselves alone, but for those who come searching, hoping that poetry might still be a place where pain can meet truth, where silence breaks, where Light is not withheld   but revealed. #
0
Oct 3, 2025
Oct 3, 2025 at 10:59 PM UTC
On the Macrocosm of Microcosm
#An Exegesis on the Humiliation of the Word The world is ruled by darkness. What appears as harmless is theater, what pretends neutral is already bent. The macrocosm corrodes; and in the microcosm, its reflection gleams.. even in places meant to be sanctuaries of truth. A poetry site, born as refuge for broken voices, becomes another stage of control. Here too the phrase resounds:   neutralize the threat. But neutralization is not annihilation. It is paralysis. It is psy-ops. It is the removal of anxiety.. not a side-effect, but the aim itself. Darkness builds its stage for this alone: that the  "angel of light" may drown his own reckoning beneath a world of deception-built self comfort, so he need never feel the truth he already knows. Comfort is his curtain, numbness his crown..   *the removal of his own anxiety;       his game.* This is why the world is his theater-- *Darkness does not destroy at first.. it sedates, comforts, smothers.* Hence.. The whole world is his fully gaslit stronghold,     ..for now. Fade back into the moment-- The young poet arrives, bringing her unspoken pain, her hope for words to heal. Instead, her very wounds are seized as footholds. Hearts. Reposts. Endless affirmation. Not to strengthen her voice, but to redirect it. She is seduced into  belonging, and her trauma becomes currency. Unresolved, her ache entwined with lust-- a sacrifice prepared  for false altars. The angel of light  has done his work: offering inclusion without transformation, belonging without responsibility, “light” without source. The poet is neutralized. Her searching silenced, her voice absorbed into fog. Those who carry this fog cling to cowardice. Unable to face the judgment within, they align themselves to the herd; envy-filled, they only know to mock. Yet they replicate themselves, so their refusal of Light is never revealed-- *Perfectly exemplifying their "Great Example" the most envy-based mocker  of all.* The microcosm mirrors the macrocosm. What nations suffer, individuals now endure--    Comfort without clarity.    Belonging without truth.    Safety without healing. Yet the living Word endures. Every attempt to humiliate it only makes its fire burn clearer. Carriers of darkness can swarm, ****** and smother.. but they cannot create. The true word cannot be erased. Unfiltered, unedited, spoken from a reconciled temple, it pierces fog. It reveals. It heals. And so we speak.. not for ourselves alone, but for those who come searching, hoping that poetry might still be a place where pain can meet truth, where silence breaks, where Light is not withheld   but revealed. #
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90
I almost don’t want to voice my opinion because I like staying in the back of the mix but it’s hard to do. Straight from the mind, the mouth, of a transgendered person, this is honesty. I know that there are a lot of people going on about the bathroom laws right now. It’s ridiculous we even have to get to laws for bathrooms. They’re for elimination, but it generally doesn’t stay at that. Gossip, vomiting, crying, **** ****** etc. Things you’ll most likely, in this century, find in the walls of bathrooms. People are posting the meme, about the ****** Trying to mix it in with these laws. A ****** who is a man, and someone who is transgender, don’t fall into the same category, and even if it’s made to better the judgement of hate and redirect the criticism of keeping transgender people in a specific bathroom, don’t compare. Because he is a male, he is a ****** We are not the same. Now, recently, people are posting about the mass shooting and connecting the two. Saying how the last thing they want to hear about is how dangerous a transgender person is in bathroom now. And they’re correct, because it’s always the last thing on my mind. I hate myself, so you don’t have to. I have enough hate in me for myself so everyone can leave me be, knowing its strong enough. I don’t want to be me, I don’t want to be like I am and I live with that everyday. I haven’t been able to make peace with myself and love myself, yet. But I hope I can eventually. I just wanted to put this out there, so people can see this side of things. From someone who is transgender. The last thing on my mind in the bathroom is: you. I do not want contact with anyone in there. I fear you. I am scared to be there. I feel threatened. I feel in danger, not you. You should be ashamed to feel such resentment towards someone you don’t even know, because I am in the one in danger, not you. I feel ashamed I am afraid of you and that is embarrassing to say, but I am. So don’t dare make it about your safety, because you are the last thing on my mind, I promise you that. Being misgendered, being ***** being beaten, being murdered, slandered, assaulted, accused, uncertain, hated, dehumanised, alone. Fear. These are what I am thinking about when all I have to do is *** but all I wanted to have to do was get groceries. Or get McDonald’s, get cat food, my car fixed, an outfit, take my husband lunch, take my daughter to the park, etc. I have a family I love, very much. So yeah, you are the last thing on my mind when I just have to use the bathroom, and don’t even want to need to use one in public because I am so afraid for my safety and wondering if this time, is going to be the last time I walk in one and don’t get to go home to my family because of who I am. I am sure people have reasons to fear what they won’t know or understand, but understand this. I know you have your own fears and your own needs and expectations, but so do I. Don’t fear me, in the bathroom, because my fear is actually greater than yours, I promise you that. And honestly, that is the last on my mind, anyway. **I just have to ***
0
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 2:32 PM UTC
I Hate Myself So You Don't Have To
I almost don’t want to voice my opinion because I like staying in the back of the mix but it’s hard to do. Straight from the mind, the mouth, of a transgendered person, this is honesty. I know that there are a lot of people going on about the bathroom laws right now. It’s ridiculous we even have to get to laws for bathrooms. They’re for elimination, but it generally doesn’t stay at that. Gossip, vomiting, crying, **** ****** etc. Things you’ll most likely, in this century, find in the walls of bathrooms. People are posting the meme, about the ****** Trying to mix it in with these laws. A ****** who is a man, and someone who is transgender, don’t fall into the same category, and even if it’s made to better the judgement of hate and redirect the criticism of keeping transgender people in a specific bathroom, don’t compare. Because he is a male, he is a ****** We are not the same. Now, recently, people are posting about the mass shooting and connecting the two. Saying how the last thing they want to hear about is how dangerous a transgender person is in bathroom now. And they’re correct, because it’s always the last thing on my mind. I hate myself, so you don’t have to. I have enough hate in me for myself so everyone can leave me be, knowing its strong enough. I don’t want to be me, I don’t want to be like I am and I live with that everyday. I haven’t been able to make peace with myself and love myself, yet. But I hope I can eventually. I just wanted to put this out there, so people can see this side of things. From someone who is transgender. The last thing on my mind in the bathroom is: you. I do not want contact with anyone in there. I fear you. I am scared to be there. I feel threatened. I feel in danger, not you. You should be ashamed to feel such resentment towards someone you don’t even know, because I am in the one in danger, not you. I feel ashamed I am afraid of you and that is embarrassing to say, but I am. So don’t dare make it about your safety, because you are the last thing on my mind, I promise you that. Being misgendered, being ***** being beaten, being murdered, slandered, assaulted, accused, uncertain, hated, dehumanised, alone. Fear. These are what I am thinking about when all I have to do is *** but all I wanted to have to do was get groceries. Or get McDonald’s, get cat food, my car fixed, an outfit, take my husband lunch, take my daughter to the park, etc. I have a family I love, very much. So yeah, you are the last thing on my mind when I just have to use the bathroom, and don’t even want to need to use one in public because I am so afraid for my safety and wondering if this time, is going to be the last time I walk in one and don’t get to go home to my family because of who I am. I am sure people have reasons to fear what they won’t know or understand, but understand this. I know you have your own fears and your own needs and expectations, but so do I. Don’t fear me, in the bathroom, because my fear is actually greater than yours, I promise you that. And honestly, that is the last on my mind, anyway. **I just have to ***
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48
~ *solstice = sun stopped; in the case of winter solstice, the moment when the sun ceases its journey northward from the earth’s equator and turns southward toward longer days; much like the journey our sun takes, love solstice then is that moment of arrest and redirect for one’s direction of travel in life... and in this, the moment a Sagittarian and Capricornian separated on two sides of the solstice, turn, collide and coalesce.* ~ hers, the waning side, winter's reprise, calls to the night, at height of eventide. his, on ebbing turn, the sun's reverse, together rise to step as one at winter's ball. their dance across the sky 'neath moonlit nights. two in love, in lockstep of the stars above, collide and coalesce, their waltz amidst the delicate pearls of a Milky Way stage! no more his lonely path among the stars; his heart she's swept, to never dance alone; her arrow sent with bow, piercing to the marrow, holds his life, his very soul. bold and daring, her voice of caring, soothes his troubled heart. he, her promise, calls to her adven’trous heart, two stepping toward a rising warming sun, in birth that spans the space and time between, forever now as one; this their solstice of love! ~ post script. *she (late Sagittarian) is the setting-sun-kissed, rain-misted huntress, he (early Capricornian) is the rising sun's icicled traveler.   mere days separating their arrival, though theirs could not be more varied.  their births under different signs; his in the wintry heartland, hers in the sun-kissed southwest; individually they are fire and ice, huntress and wanderer who together have captured, captivated each the other’s heart.  you’re not likely to see them separately, but when you do, it’s only briefly when resupplying their home, their hearth, their hearts. two making a most unlikely one, but oh so surprisingly, so beautifully passionate!*
0
Dec 23, 2015
Dec 23, 2015 at 2:19 AM UTC
solstice of love
~ *solstice = sun stopped; in the case of winter solstice, the moment when the sun ceases its journey northward from the earth’s equator and turns southward toward longer days; much like the journey our sun takes, love solstice then is that moment of arrest and redirect for one’s direction of travel in life... and in this, the moment a Sagittarian and Capricornian separated on two sides of the solstice, turn, collide and coalesce.* ~ hers, the waning side, winter's reprise, calls to the night, at height of eventide. his, on ebbing turn, the sun's reverse, together rise to step as one at winter's ball. their dance across the sky 'neath moonlit nights. two in love, in lockstep of the stars above, collide and coalesce, their waltz amidst the delicate pearls of a Milky Way stage! no more his lonely path among the stars; his heart she's swept, to never dance alone; her arrow sent with bow, piercing to the marrow, holds his life, his very soul. bold and daring, her voice of caring, soothes his troubled heart. he, her promise, calls to her adven’trous heart, two stepping toward a rising warming sun, in birth that spans the space and time between, forever now as one; this their solstice of love! ~ post script. *she (late Sagittarian) is the setting-sun-kissed, rain-misted huntress, he (early Capricornian) is the rising sun's icicled traveler.   mere days separating their arrival, though theirs could not be more varied.  their births under different signs; his in the wintry heartland, hers in the sun-kissed southwest; individually they are fire and ice, huntress and wanderer who together have captured, captivated each the other’s heart.  you’re not likely to see them separately, but when you do, it’s only briefly when resupplying their home, their hearth, their hearts. two making a most unlikely one, but oh so surprisingly, so beautifully passionate!*
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62
Woke up, yet again At this ungodly hour Unhappy thoughts lingering at the back of my mind Unhappy memories still haunting my heart Unhappy horrors bothering my soul All of these redirect me to you You, whom life has offered to me You, whom He has given me You, who made everything worth it- the pain, the faults, the sorrows You, the one whom I love dearly You, who wipes away my tears and my fears You, who makes me happy You were not the escape You are my sanctuary I love you, despite this messed up piece I love you, because of who you are I love you, even with the chaos that is myself
0
May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 11:24 AM UTC
Homesick
I knew it wouldn't be easy but they never told me it'd be this hard I trace layers upon layers of scars Remembering each lesson carved into beautiful trademarks I seek not revenge but rather to transcend and at my wits end I find time to make peace with the screams While watching the stream ever-changing shaping the banks of caving earth Dispersing tiny dismantled pieces into a deep ravine A place unseen but the depths taunting Muffled whispers and glimmers stir and discern all visibility The waters reflected the chaos that plagued my reckoning As I sat tossing stones watching the ripples fade and form My small attempts to redirect the current seemed insurmountable The rush and persistence of endless resistance surpassed my will Swallowing my feet in mud and dismay Beside the stream I'd forever stay
0
Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 9:15 PM UTC
Erosion
Life is not symmetrical. An interesting ponderance With unforseen, Far-reaching consequence And the green is in the profits For the sages and prophets Who drop it Telling rhymes To capsize time And no one's around to stop it Open to interpretation, A cryptic message Whose meaning gets lost in translation When living in a basement With one suitcase of baggage And it amplifies The black-tie strife Of societal ties. And you figure you figures Add up to something bigger While I'm a ghost just trying to capture A bigger piece of the bigger picture But got distracted by the frame I look familiar But you dont know my name I look familiar... Like looking in a mirror Because we both look the same But we're different You see, Im a dedicated runaway Who ran away from home Trying to escape A world of computers And cell phones Pursuing a knowledge I always have known But the world's greatest minds Never predicted this... And my happy meal Tastes like flies and **** Yeah, **** Because someone ****** in my vinegar And if I ever see justice, I've got something to give to her My eyes. And the power of sight. To open up her mind And redirect her fight. But I fall back With no one to catch me Forced to rely upon Linguistic ability Because its the power of speech Which tells you to look both ways Before you proceed To walk across the street And I know its not easy To live on adrenaline and caffiene But I'll chainsmoke cigarettes And drink gin from the tub And try to destroy Another piece of myself everyday.. Until all thats left is love... Life is not symmetrical. Sometimes it rains on only one side of the street.
0
May 25, 2010
May 25, 2010 at 8:51 AM UTC
Life Is Not Symmetrical
Life is not symmetrical. An interesting ponderance With unforseen, Far-reaching consequence And the green is in the profits For the sages and prophets Who drop it Telling rhymes To capsize time And no one's around to stop it Open to interpretation, A cryptic message Whose meaning gets lost in translation When living in a basement With one suitcase of baggage And it amplifies The black-tie strife Of societal ties. And you figure you figures Add up to something bigger While I'm a ghost just trying to capture A bigger piece of the bigger picture But got distracted by the frame I look familiar But you dont know my name I look familiar... Like looking in a mirror Because we both look the same But we're different You see, Im a dedicated runaway Who ran away from home Trying to escape A world of computers And cell phones Pursuing a knowledge I always have known But the world's greatest minds Never predicted this... And my happy meal Tastes like flies and **** Yeah, **** Because someone ****** in my vinegar And if I ever see justice, I've got something to give to her My eyes. And the power of sight. To open up her mind And redirect her fight. But I fall back With no one to catch me Forced to rely upon Linguistic ability Because its the power of speech Which tells you to look both ways Before you proceed To walk across the street And I know its not easy To live on adrenaline and caffiene But I'll chainsmoke cigarettes And drink gin from the tub And try to destroy Another piece of myself everyday.. Until all thats left is love... Life is not symmetrical. Sometimes it rains on only one side of the street.
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66
Free yourself from yourself; transcend your own Mind. Mind is a tool that can be used, in any way seen as fit, but, it can also abuse;  it will ultimately dominate your existence, if allowed to. Mind tends to lead One down the Paths of Overstimulation; Overindulgence. Overthinking. To overcome these forces is to forge in fire a stronger and more complete Self: Ride the Waves; but take heed of the Undertow. You are in control until the point where you sacrifice it for peace of mind. It is either a conscious decision or an act of desperation; subordination. Surrender. Defeat. To sacrifice self-control for sake of comfort; this indulgent peace of mind is hollow and fleeting, a mere moment in the ebb and flow of Time. Cling not to Peace of Mind; you shall be dragged downstream. Seek it not; lest you **** yourself to a wild goose chase. Claim it not when you have it; to disrespect it is to forgo. Simply attempt to realize the ways in which you restrict yourself; they ways in which you've yet to set your Self free. Try to acknowledge the ways in which your Mind is your puppeteer, rather than it being more mutually beneficial. These malevolent mental marionette strings exist, for no one is it ever a one-time struggle, it sure isn't for me; Shadow seeks always to gain power within; to corrupt your being from the inside out, and it will always succeed if you don't redirect it. *Mind can break thy chains as quickly and easily as it makes them. It just takes awareness and willpower.* Free yourself from yourself for yourself; though it's neither easy nor simple. Free yourself from yourself for yourself; it is up to you alone to grow as a Being. Free yourself from yourself for yourself; no one else is able to do it for you. Free yourself from yourself for yourself; though you must teach yourself how. Free yourself from yourself for yourself.
0
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 4:20 PM UTC
Free Yourself from Yourself for Yourself
Free yourself from yourself; transcend your own Mind. Mind is a tool that can be used, in any way seen as fit, but, it can also abuse;  it will ultimately dominate your existence, if allowed to. Mind tends to lead One down the Paths of Overstimulation; Overindulgence. Overthinking. To overcome these forces is to forge in fire a stronger and more complete Self: Ride the Waves; but take heed of the Undertow. You are in control until the point where you sacrifice it for peace of mind. It is either a conscious decision or an act of desperation; subordination. Surrender. Defeat. To sacrifice self-control for sake of comfort; this indulgent peace of mind is hollow and fleeting, a mere moment in the ebb and flow of Time. Cling not to Peace of Mind; you shall be dragged downstream. Seek it not; lest you **** yourself to a wild goose chase. Claim it not when you have it; to disrespect it is to forgo. Simply attempt to realize the ways in which you restrict yourself; they ways in which you've yet to set your Self free. Try to acknowledge the ways in which your Mind is your puppeteer, rather than it being more mutually beneficial. These malevolent mental marionette strings exist, for no one is it ever a one-time struggle, it sure isn't for me; Shadow seeks always to gain power within; to corrupt your being from the inside out, and it will always succeed if you don't redirect it. *Mind can break thy chains as quickly and easily as it makes them. It just takes awareness and willpower.* Free yourself from yourself for yourself; though it's neither easy nor simple. Free yourself from yourself for yourself; it is up to you alone to grow as a Being. Free yourself from yourself for yourself; no one else is able to do it for you. Free yourself from yourself for yourself; though you must teach yourself how. Free yourself from yourself for yourself.
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31
of all creation who breathes it is you robbing me of my lungs' ability, the electricity of your presence shocks me into memories. they pull on my coat because it is cold in my own heart unlike your fingertips melting the ice of my first impressions. part of me resides in your throat and I wait on you to swallow me yet. I am nothing if not a reflection in your irises. violence of dawn is enough to redirect me to your voice for discouragement. I was never taught that this fear could keep me safe from fears. you hold your own tongue and you land on both your feet and I am still stumbling to regain balance. a beggar might ask me for some change and I will rid myself of you this time. yesterday you said goodnight and it is dark as night until you say goodmorning and I seem to wait for the sun to rise with your chest. this was not supposed to happen you were supposed to flood the garden now the flowers are blooming.
0
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 2:42 AM UTC
A Beggar Might Ask
Forgive me, I have done wrong against you and myself I have not done anything to further my spiritual health You suffered and died so I could go free And how do I repay you? By sinning you see! I am a fool for having done such a thing And rather than praise it is dishonor I bring I realize you have probably forgiven this sinner Help me to forgive myself in humble surrender By grace, mercy and love I have been saved By your mighty hand lead me to walk the way you have paved Help me turn my heart to you I want to serve and live pure and true I will never be perfect this much I know But with your help in your love I can grow May I remember in my tomorrow's and todays That you Oh Lord are just a breath away Give me the strength needed to turn from satan's power Guide me through my darkest hour And if I forget send someone to help redirect Lest I stumble fall or lose my way please set me on the path correct I love you and thank you and help me to follow Your ways and your footsteps and not be skin shallow AMEN
0
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 9:18 PM UTC
Prayer of a Sinner
A gloomy day is upon us when the leaves fall, glistening under the sun as they slowly make their way to ground Like the wave of a hand, flopping inward and out, as it motions goodbye. When the sun is setting and bleeds into the sky with the oils of a canvas of war ****** red, sinking into the horizon, gradually burying itself into Earth. And when the birds decide to leave us in winter, heading North, like an arrow below the clouds, signalling to our safety, but we stay nestled around; we cannot fly. When the stream’s path has been broken, and gravity summons the waters to the deadest of ends, a puddle of joy is formed, for us to bathe away our sins. When stars shimmer in the darkest of night false wishes, like false hopes, but we look at them and smile. We marvel at this beauty, because we wish our partings were as breath-taking. We wish our tears didn’t look so ugly, and our hearts wouldn’t ache and our breaths weren’t so shallow, as we realize it is time to say farewell. In nature, everything comes back, The sun rises again, the leaves grow, and the birds return to their land, stars are reborn even waters feed our plants. But we, we stay just where we are, and learn to redirect our melancholy, our energy, to nature… Underground.
0
Sep 30, 2012
Sep 30, 2012 at 9:06 AM UTC
Melancholic Nature
Nobody mourn, nobody get hurt We just project redirect the blame and sink back into interactions with coping devices of mass distraction The artificial womb of the masses Tethered by an invisible umbilical cord feeding us way too much information Like hungry ghosts salivating the next notification We can’t run. We can’t hide. There’s a threat to survive, But we’re so ******* desensitized Seduced by the school shooter we don’t hear him coming singing siren songs heart-beating shotgun blasts That leitmotif in sync with The American Horror Story allegory Just forget it Too much in the queue Too many new things We can’t reject this reality It’s really ******* broken Em, I’m sorry we’re descending Much Madness has lost its meaning It’s just the means to unlock an achievement Emulate another scumbag. romanticize a villain amplify the bodycount Like how many do you need to ***** out before they give you the cover of the Rolling Stone? It's comedically-tragic, Stranger than satire. The Judge, the jury Executioner cutie cut all your losses for ya cashed in your lil tax deductions The most sacred snuffed out before the light could become them Get woke a-f, This is enlightenment! Come on get your mind blown! He’s the one who loves to shoot his gun But he knows not what it means knows not what it means. Do you know what it means?
0
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 11:02 PM UTC
iGnoreality
Baffled this was a question you’d have to ask, I sat tremulous.  I’m insular; I’d be enamored with even the most amorphous love, but I’m not inept, and won’t preclude that answering the question is salient.  And although I’m not taciturn, I’m rarely extemporaneous, so please excuse my need for verbose prose in answering said question. You’re attractive.  Your strong jaw, small chin and cheekbones were sculpted to make your own eyes glow and an artist’s eyes expostulate dreaming of anything else. Don’t dismiss this as delirium, but rather relish this recondite fact—my first crush came in the fifth grade.  It was on a diminutive, outspoken girl, and I was enormous and timid, which developed into a village girl vs. Mowgli, me Tarzan you Jane, King-Kong-Ann Darrow complex.  And although I believe with zealous fervor in your strength, your size still incites the young jungle boy inside me.  And I hope I can say, without being terse, I’m afflicted with a mysterious affinity for red-hair.   Although I could dwell in the obvious all day, I’ll redirect from the blasé. Abandon beats within us both like hearts to the same pulse, we don’t coax smiles, we let them slip, we aspire to happiness like falling of a log. I have to pry open time’s lockbox and plunder the night just to relegate the dawn.  Bliss becomes a tangible ****** making even the most existentially exasperated docile.  Knowledge that every other thought is dominated by one another without it attenuating the magic. Knowing that if all I have to say is it’s raining outside, you want to hear it.  Twenty-one years of my life I thought I’d have to hunt love with a knife but you showed me roaming where you like to wander can wake the irreverent gods.  It’s your superlative honesty that’s only for me; that virile smile in your eyes that bid doubt vacate my mind Knowing that if I went catatonic, one reproving look from you would cause my heart to break and force my hands to put the pieces back before I stopped breathing.  If I could, I’d dawn you like a blanket before every dinner, dusk and dream.  And most importantly, we both like crowns.
0
Jun 10, 2011
Jun 10, 2011 at 8:17 AM UTC
What is it about me, besides my vocabulary?
Baffled this was a question you’d have to ask, I sat tremulous.  I’m insular; I’d be enamored with even the most amorphous love, but I’m not inept, and won’t preclude that answering the question is salient.  And although I’m not taciturn, I’m rarely extemporaneous, so please excuse my need for verbose prose in answering said question. You’re attractive.  Your strong jaw, small chin and cheekbones were sculpted to make your own eyes glow and an artist’s eyes expostulate dreaming of anything else. Don’t dismiss this as delirium, but rather relish this recondite fact—my first crush came in the fifth grade.  It was on a diminutive, outspoken girl, and I was enormous and timid, which developed into a village girl vs. Mowgli, me Tarzan you Jane, King-Kong-Ann Darrow complex.  And although I believe with zealous fervor in your strength, your size still incites the young jungle boy inside me.  And I hope I can say, without being terse, I’m afflicted with a mysterious affinity for red-hair.   Although I could dwell in the obvious all day, I’ll redirect from the blasé. Abandon beats within us both like hearts to the same pulse, we don’t coax smiles, we let them slip, we aspire to happiness like falling of a log. I have to pry open time’s lockbox and plunder the night just to relegate the dawn.  Bliss becomes a tangible ****** making even the most existentially exasperated docile.  Knowledge that every other thought is dominated by one another without it attenuating the magic. Knowing that if all I have to say is it’s raining outside, you want to hear it.  Twenty-one years of my life I thought I’d have to hunt love with a knife but you showed me roaming where you like to wander can wake the irreverent gods.  It’s your superlative honesty that’s only for me; that virile smile in your eyes that bid doubt vacate my mind Knowing that if I went catatonic, one reproving look from you would cause my heart to break and force my hands to put the pieces back before I stopped breathing.  If I could, I’d dawn you like a blanket before every dinner, dusk and dream.  And most importantly, we both like crowns.
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22
Theres so much that I notice, And things that I hear, I use to be so hopeless, But now I have no fear, I seen your picture the other day, You were in that sun dress, I can remember thinking, "Without you I'd be a mess", That I'd simply fall apart, That I'd be incomplete, You name was branded on my heart, But I just couldn't take the heat, Its funny looking back, All the memories we share, I was ready to make a pact, It doesn't seem very fair, I'm not really bitter, But I haven't totally moved on, I was your baby and you my sitter, Its hard to believe that your gone, I'll still be your friend, But I must redirect my focus, And realize its the end, And let go of all the things I notice.
0
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 5:13 PM UTC
Notice
she whispers poetic metaphors comprised of beautiful words into thirsty ears and watches as hungry eyes become enveloped with stars as they imagine the beauty of her love she tells them ¨he is the earth and i am his moon orbiting around him¨ orbiting for him but you see an orbital´s path is not paved by love for she often asks herself if she was really in love at all or was it simply his proximity which so forcefully pulled her in for closeness is what tore the moon from her own established path amongst the stars when she encountered the inescapable gravity of another celestial body the moon diminutive and frail in comparison had no choice but to succumb to the earth´s captivation and redirect her path to assume a new orbit around a new focus instead of progressing forward she now knows nothing but the same hideous loop and like a scratched record it repeats itself over          and over                            and over                                             and over again and every taste of freedom simply brings her careening even quicker around the next corner until she becomes all too familiar with the same series of events so she convinces herself she's fallen in love then that she's fallen back out of it again except she hasn't really fallen anywhere her mind simply adapts a new narration for the same spiral storyline she never really loved him for while they were close momentum prevented their hearts from ever truly touching (for if the moon and the earth drifted too close they would collide) and she will never know now that she has become entranced by a new planetary orbit and as she tells the story of how the moon fell for the earth the paradox of orbitals was the perfect disguise for her sinister love x.
0
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 6:16 PM UTC
the paradox of orbitals
she whispers poetic metaphors comprised of beautiful words into thirsty ears and watches as hungry eyes become enveloped with stars as they imagine the beauty of her love she tells them ¨he is the earth and i am his moon orbiting around him¨ orbiting for him but you see an orbital´s path is not paved by love for she often asks herself if she was really in love at all or was it simply his proximity which so forcefully pulled her in for closeness is what tore the moon from her own established path amongst the stars when she encountered the inescapable gravity of another celestial body the moon diminutive and frail in comparison had no choice but to succumb to the earth´s captivation and redirect her path to assume a new orbit around a new focus instead of progressing forward she now knows nothing but the same hideous loop and like a scratched record it repeats itself over          and over                            and over                                             and over again and every taste of freedom simply brings her careening even quicker around the next corner until she becomes all too familiar with the same series of events so she convinces herself she's fallen in love then that she's fallen back out of it again except she hasn't really fallen anywhere her mind simply adapts a new narration for the same spiral storyline she never really loved him for while they were close momentum prevented their hearts from ever truly touching (for if the moon and the earth drifted too close they would collide) and she will never know now that she has become entranced by a new planetary orbit and as she tells the story of how the moon fell for the earth the paradox of orbitals was the perfect disguise for her sinister love x.
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79
Yes I Long.... Who turned this power on? Emotions once weak now are strong Only a Goddess could ever awake Ones Spiritual Evolution that would overtake Vibe Shamanic..Words spoken supersonic Welcome to the now..Poetry Bionic Poems structure a piece of my soul Thoughts released in my flow Riddle with Rhyme I can bring In the end we all say the same thing Infinity connects us all enlightening M.A.N Keeps me devising not being part of a plan Didn't mean to drift or get off track Life is all over the place..That's a fact In love I become like the sea Unpredictable waves overcome me Too many times I've been torn It's as if my destiny is to be reborn Shadows of yester-me still inside Always there..can not hide The fool in me will always yearn In Fire of Phoenix that fool will burn Reformulate pain redirect feel the gain A spiritual balance is obtained In the arms of love a heart grows strong   Shines the light of truth for which I long..
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Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 7:11 PM UTC
I Long
a salutation, a benediction, a good wish yet one  so troubling, not from a lacking, of sincerity but from opacity opacity~  the quality or state of a body that makes it impervious to the rays of light; the condition of lacking transparency or translucence; opaqueness "Because space is a vacuum, these good wish waves can travel unimpeded and at a constant speed through empty space, eventually interacting with objects like planets and telescopes upon arrival" but I am not a vacuum, a void, and do not exist within one, here in my surroundings, is much interface interference, the light you send, has bounced around endlessly forever, till it may have hit its intended target, me within, without, and surely has picked up some tagalong amoeba, bacteria, outside contradictories that may have changed its very nature, its purity disturbed, "Pure light" contains a single wavelength or frequency and cannot be broken down into other colors but my confusion is indeed a spectrum of Joseph's many colors, clashing and thrashing with each other, cohering but not of necessity, cohering, this a metaphor, you so lightly send my way,   let us redirect its warm sensibility sensitivity, let us take an /our inner glow; diffuse if one cannot send light across the cosmos, maybe across the Interpet, but just verbally, send to me please, absolutely, tagged "for immediate delivery"                                              and I will store                                               all of it,                                              in my glass jar, next to my heart,                              and just                              glow from within to the with out
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Sep 30, 2025
Sep 30, 2025 at 5:04 PM UTC
"sending you light"
a salutation, a benediction, a good wish yet one  so troubling, not from a lacking, of sincerity but from opacity opacity~  the quality or state of a body that makes it impervious to the rays of light; the condition of lacking transparency or translucence; opaqueness "Because space is a vacuum, these good wish waves can travel unimpeded and at a constant speed through empty space, eventually interacting with objects like planets and telescopes upon arrival" but I am not a vacuum, a void, and do not exist within one, here in my surroundings, is much interface interference, the light you send, has bounced around endlessly forever, till it may have hit its intended target, me within, without, and surely has picked up some tagalong amoeba, bacteria, outside contradictories that may have changed its very nature, its purity disturbed, "Pure light" contains a single wavelength or frequency and cannot be broken down into other colors but my confusion is indeed a spectrum of Joseph's many colors, clashing and thrashing with each other, cohering but not of necessity, cohering, this a metaphor, you so lightly send my way,   let us redirect its warm sensibility sensitivity, let us take an /our inner glow; diffuse if one cannot send light across the cosmos, maybe across the Interpet, but just verbally, send to me please, absolutely, tagged "for immediate delivery"                                              and I will store                                               all of it,                                              in my glass jar, next to my heart,                              and just                              glow from within to the with out
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48
I've grown tired of this surreal, trying-to-run-underwater paralysis My thoughts will not expire, even though I harshly insist It's time to redirect my energy back to the war The one I began waging over two years ago I'll keep struggling against this innuendo All for the hope to destroy my incoherency Yet somehow still possess my secrecy
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Jul 8, 2010
Jul 8, 2010 at 10:02 AM UTC
The Antebellum Soul
Okay, Cupid, tell me true- The hell'd I ever do to you? You flap about, your bowstring drawn Aiming just to lead me on. "Oh, she's the one!" You always say, And with a 'thwip', arrows away! And when it hits, right in my heart, Proceeds to tear the world apart. And then you just flutter away, No doubt thinking "good job, today!" But Cupid, sir, you fail to tell That my poor heart is in for hell. Now, love is grand, don't get me wrong, But never seems to last for long. Those arrows you're so fond to fire Are sometimes too quick to expire. So, Cupid, mate, step up your game, Or redirect your blasted aim. If love is such a complex trick, Don't shoot at me you little *****
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Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 2:45 PM UTC
Okay, Cupid...
One day, a kid came up to me and said, "Hey Grace, what did you get on the science test?" I replied saying, "I got a 97%" "Only a 97%?" the kid said. "You should have gotten a 100%, Since you're a nerd." And that’s when I started to think Why am I the one that's the nerd? We all have a brain We all use our brains We're all smart in our own ways In different areas of life So in a way, Aren't we all nerds? Our brains don't start out super smart When we were born We barely knew a single thing We lived day by day Using our brains to learn new things Helping our brains grow Not in size, but in knowledge Learning back then was natural instinct But things have changed Now, there is so much more we can be doing Instead of using our brains to learn We have cell phones And social networks And TV shows And parties And relationships And so much more stuff that takes us away From using our brains to learn It happens to everyone, not just some people But some people still learn While all these things are going on These things that are distracting them from letting their brain grow They use their brains To redirect themselves from these distractions And learn new things whenever they can By learning, these people's brains grow In knowledge, not in size It's those people The people that use their brains to learn That are the 'nerds' in society Because they know more than everyone else But really, They are only 'nerds' Because they let themselves use their brains and learn Unlike those other people That let the distractions take them hostage So when that kid told me I was a nerd I just said to him "I'm not a nerd, I just use my brain more than others."
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Jun 13, 2012
Jun 13, 2012 at 4:54 PM UTC
Brain
One day, a kid came up to me and said, "Hey Grace, what did you get on the science test?" I replied saying, "I got a 97%" "Only a 97%?" the kid said. "You should have gotten a 100%, Since you're a nerd." And that’s when I started to think Why am I the one that's the nerd? We all have a brain We all use our brains We're all smart in our own ways In different areas of life So in a way, Aren't we all nerds? Our brains don't start out super smart When we were born We barely knew a single thing We lived day by day Using our brains to learn new things Helping our brains grow Not in size, but in knowledge Learning back then was natural instinct But things have changed Now, there is so much more we can be doing Instead of using our brains to learn We have cell phones And social networks And TV shows And parties And relationships And so much more stuff that takes us away From using our brains to learn It happens to everyone, not just some people But some people still learn While all these things are going on These things that are distracting them from letting their brain grow They use their brains To redirect themselves from these distractions And learn new things whenever they can By learning, these people's brains grow In knowledge, not in size It's those people The people that use their brains to learn That are the 'nerds' in society Because they know more than everyone else But really, They are only 'nerds' Because they let themselves use their brains and learn Unlike those other people That let the distractions take them hostage So when that kid told me I was a nerd I just said to him "I'm not a nerd, I just use my brain more than others."
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54
A figment of fictition So persistent in perdition Little distant, Little hat trick Lay her down upon my mattress I spit hot glue whether or not I ought to It's never thought through, never bought new I never sought another off-tune Sound I'm perfectly happy with my own. And life's an acquired taste (bittersweet trainwreck) Just like a whiskey flavored sno-cone So just Relax. Take your bags off and lean back Discheveled chivalry, Burning bush, Uttered simile Muttered quickly In a sea of young blood and old trees Just try and make a meek response, recompose your shattered sconce Redirect it all deliberately with my newfound friend tenacity I report a list of casualties after a hurricane of history Recurring dreams are haunting me Face-to-face with Mephistopheles Which I ponder in all honesty. Should I fear the devil within, even if I don't believe in him or is it enough that he believes in me?
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Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 1:16 AM UTC
lil' rap.
My Inner Critic I've misunderstood you far too long I used to think you ginormous But I see you're actually small. You're not a beast I need to hide from But a child I must protect Your poisonous tongue was cursed to you From years of abuse and neglect. When you're scared, you can be scary To get attention, you yell mean things You bring something up over and over again When you know that I'm not listening. When I look, you're stuck and screaming Like you felt and could never express You see danger and no one will listen I shut you down like all of the rest. Sweet one, I'm sorry I ran from you I misjudged your might and will Now I've grown and understand better No one ever taught you the skills. Instead you learned to fear your big feelings Because they made you bad and unloveable But your feelings are valid and helpful to hold You're on fire, but you're not combustible. The rage that electrifies your skin Makes sense and will not destroy you We can redirect, run through it's end Then, together, decide what to do. You screamed that you wanted to die But we dyed our hair instead You wanted to take your own life So we've taken it into our own hands. Big feelings will always wash over us I know sometimes that feels like too much But now I'll listen and we can make choices That won't harm either of us.
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Jan 8, 2025
Jan 8, 2025 at 8:40 PM UTC
I See You
***Slender slippery shadows slither straight at my figure Memories that come with weight I try not to remember***           This gallows consists of tightwires and tighter knots Thinking of a way out is bait Doubt outweighs triumph on a daily basis     Attention is called to failures while success dies from budget cuts too deep to bandage            Being broke and broken you incure a lot of damage and debt         Ruined plans and regret And learn to love when the rope holds tight around your neck      Stability of any sort is necessary      When the drop is so **** scary         **Hell is just a phone call away                And they have a billion ****** off receptionists ready to rapidly redirect your call**     A donation of one ****** soul can get you a sidewalk all the way to Hell's blackened gates      Either way you arrive sleep deprived     Nightmares of reality plant seeds deep inside Creating sleepless nights **And I seek advice in low places     Because I'm scared of heights I fail to recognize the irony**   The noose is too tight I'm so far above the ground     I don't think the drop would bother me anymore
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Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 6:11 PM UTC
GaLLoWaLk
Anger and pain can be powerful feelings but don't let hatred enter your heart Take that explosive energy; redirect it to something positive You can accomplish amazing things with it
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Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 6:58 AM UTC
Anger Management
We paint our lives on color film Absorbing familiar reflection And we watch as we live So little in color film We love, we **** We bleed, we die Do we think God is watching? Do we think we are the reflection Why are we watching? Mountain sides and Lilly beds Prairies and the mighty ocean Now held in our hands Nobody is there Is anyone here What is everyone watching? Loneliness painted in window sills Plasma radiation gleams on White, pictureless walls Millions Watching sunsets And passions flame Lust pervert Warm golden skin Radiates tangerine And the lonely feel Vicarity Painting red On Blank slates And fill with vacant desire Million of on lookers Alone, watching Watching the world burn Watching mothers cry Watching beaches sludge Watching deserts snow Watching brave children die Watching brothers betray Watching love fail Watching countries fall Watching debts paid Millions of miles of tapes and bits Project a millions of protestant cries Endlessly, eternally Do we think God is watching? Do we think? While we're watching Bathing in radiation Children don't know how to read Live their lives on A television screen A whole generation Living vicariously Do we think? Millions of gray souls And avid voters Watch angry men spout nostalgic redirect Watch their children live their lives Watch game shows and advertisements Watch the six o' clock news Watch police shoot children in the street A million beautiful, lonely people Watch red carpet vanity Watch million dollar celebrity parties Watch the American dream lash the Backs of the fuedal and disenfranchised Watch depraved souls sacrifice self For the company of fame Meanwhile children don't read Do we think? A thought original Is there any thing left to believe Everyone so sure there's nothing they haven't seen Nobody leaves their house Nobody can bear to read Just watch the world slip into insanity Ignorance is the greatest weapon Yet all I see is guns blazing 80 billion dollars to dry the desert Not a one for education American families gather Around their TV screens They can't stop watching They're afraid of what they see Do they think God is watching? I hope God isn't watching
0
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 5:09 AM UTC
Do We Think
We paint our lives on color film Absorbing familiar reflection And we watch as we live So little in color film We love, we **** We bleed, we die Do we think God is watching? Do we think we are the reflection Why are we watching? Mountain sides and Lilly beds Prairies and the mighty ocean Now held in our hands Nobody is there Is anyone here What is everyone watching? Loneliness painted in window sills Plasma radiation gleams on White, pictureless walls Millions Watching sunsets And passions flame Lust pervert Warm golden skin Radiates tangerine And the lonely feel Vicarity Painting red On Blank slates And fill with vacant desire Million of on lookers Alone, watching Watching the world burn Watching mothers cry Watching beaches sludge Watching deserts snow Watching brave children die Watching brothers betray Watching love fail Watching countries fall Watching debts paid Millions of miles of tapes and bits Project a millions of protestant cries Endlessly, eternally Do we think God is watching? Do we think? While we're watching Bathing in radiation Children don't know how to read Live their lives on A television screen A whole generation Living vicariously Do we think? Millions of gray souls And avid voters Watch angry men spout nostalgic redirect Watch their children live their lives Watch game shows and advertisements Watch the six o' clock news Watch police shoot children in the street A million beautiful, lonely people Watch red carpet vanity Watch million dollar celebrity parties Watch the American dream lash the Backs of the fuedal and disenfranchised Watch depraved souls sacrifice self For the company of fame Meanwhile children don't read Do we think? A thought original Is there any thing left to believe Everyone so sure there's nothing they haven't seen Nobody leaves their house Nobody can bear to read Just watch the world slip into insanity Ignorance is the greatest weapon Yet all I see is guns blazing 80 billion dollars to dry the desert Not a one for education American families gather Around their TV screens They can't stop watching They're afraid of what they see Do they think God is watching? I hope God isn't watching
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85
Take me back not to undo my scars but to learn more about myself How to carry my own burden to drown my sickness before it drowns me I wish I could go back and redirect my life back to when living was basic and math was the only problem with a solution
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Jun 16, 2019
Jun 16, 2019 at 3:19 AM UTC
Scars