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"regrown" poems
What is home? but a safe haven for the heart comfortable at peace a breeze after the summer sun went to sleep a feeling I had forgotten for years regrown from my own strength Home I thought Was in me all along.
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Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 11:58 PM UTC
Home
a television interview, Oct. 2018  with Sir Paul McCartney ~for all of us, forever~ <•> **** you Paul, old man you trying to make us all look bad? guess you’re just another ‘miner for a thousand years’ or more, cause we haven’t seen a reason why the vein should run dry, for the stolid earth resupplies endless old metal and the liquid veins supply the need, the urgency of a warm gun of composition, a drug nonpareil and the things that provoke, still provoke once more and again, love and need, even memories, petri dish cell regrown, breathing atmospheric nutrients in the hotheaded hothouse air of the human farm ‘tis why I paean you at 4:25am understanding full well, better than most, for once I wrote, it’s always the next one, that will be, the flawless poem, that will permit the laying down of the pen, the guitar but even flawless is not “good enough yet” for all of us, forever* for “yet,” even more than forever, is the most unlimited word we share ~ 5:02am 10/17/18
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Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 2:06 PM UTC
“I haven’t done it good enough yet”
Soon I will be alone. In my own little cave I can hide and be regrown; my own soul I will save. I will seclude myself from all; from disappointment, pain, hate and live behind my wall, until I've learned to appreciate. All I want is to be happy, but, it seems the world is all sad, I can't help but breathe empathy, so I am prevented from being glad. To add to that, I am toxic, and all I touch turns to dust until I learn to focus, I will continue to lose trust. I must learn to deal with this, then attempt the world anew. I need to learn to channel bliss, then I can rejoin all of you.
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Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 10:41 PM UTC
meditate to medicate; rebuilding.
function here in waves, playful rose of fractal dance between the ashen i-am-nesses fused -- what else can say existence like you   are like me? that atoms mine are yours coinciding kinds in kind collide in braving symbols wide. no interference holds amid the swing from dark to light, eternal constancy of varied essence striking joy on joy a smitten fullness- breath of overcoming desperation's wrath regrown particulates of god undead of final unities no longer dark, no longer merely one among .
0
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 11:20 PM UTC
what...blooms in silence
step right up to this broken machine she'll take anyone look at this queen she's shiny and new with smiles so bright every step she takes is light her colours are more than a rainbow can boast she has more than any she has the most they drift in the wind and fall from her fingers her joy is infectious she's contentment's dead ringer this machine never stops that's why its so popular people will travel far there is no other none so dedicated to her job as this she's a volunteer so surely she loves it but a crisis strikes every once in a while the machine won't admit it, she's in denial but her colour store is personally supplied if she told you it's abundant, surely she lied this machine has colours she enjoys sparing but to spend her whole life as this machine is daring machines must be turned off must be unplugged this machine never does because help is her drug she goes and she goes until she overheats her colours start melting they run through the streets these runaway colours are scooped up and scrounged meanwhile the machine is left on the ground she rusts while it rains, there on the ground no regard for the girl whose rainbow seems to be gone look how she lays so curled up and crying but not from her loss crying because her aid is the cost with no regard for herself she whispers "if I take a break, look at who suffers" but the rainbow too must be regrown it can only take time and care and sweet tones encouraging words to let her know she's not alone, she will never be thrown from this world with contempt because love exists but love may not always come to you free sometimes there is just one fee it isn't much... just to ask
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Jan 19, 2017
Jan 19, 2017 at 9:40 PM UTC
Broken Machine
step right up to this broken machine she'll take anyone look at this queen she's shiny and new with smiles so bright every step she takes is light her colours are more than a rainbow can boast she has more than any she has the most they drift in the wind and fall from her fingers her joy is infectious she's contentment's dead ringer this machine never stops that's why its so popular people will travel far there is no other none so dedicated to her job as this she's a volunteer so surely she loves it but a crisis strikes every once in a while the machine won't admit it, she's in denial but her colour store is personally supplied if she told you it's abundant, surely she lied this machine has colours she enjoys sparing but to spend her whole life as this machine is daring machines must be turned off must be unplugged this machine never does because help is her drug she goes and she goes until she overheats her colours start melting they run through the streets these runaway colours are scooped up and scrounged meanwhile the machine is left on the ground she rusts while it rains, there on the ground no regard for the girl whose rainbow seems to be gone look how she lays so curled up and crying but not from her loss crying because her aid is the cost with no regard for herself she whispers "if I take a break, look at who suffers" but the rainbow too must be regrown it can only take time and care and sweet tones encouraging words to let her know she's not alone, she will never be thrown from this world with contempt because love exists but love may not always come to you free sometimes there is just one fee it isn't much... just to ask
Continue reading...
48
We were only ever moving through.. A transient encounter pinked in sprinkled serendipity had synchronised our step and having met before the bested peaks of all that seemed unlikely we stayed close. Through needless plays of problematic metaphor, we laughed and wept, deplored enforced morality, embraced a great unknown, explored the cultic sympathies, arrested in our infancy and swore an oath eternal to the greenery regrown.. ..while knowing well, the day will come when one moves on alone
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Aug 7, 2021
Aug 7, 2021 at 2:08 AM UTC
Chance
The wanderer walks more then he talks fished in a *** of emotions asteroid torn by the fact that time is a plant of which can't be regrown when grown on a slant oh surface what is my purpose? why am I here? what am I after? what is my fear? Stuck in a haze of being afraid of the future I'm the wanderer of night The walker of the shadows my feet glide lightly beneath the street & it's gravel I'm peeping at the living within the holes of their hollows Wondering if there lives are a cycle Go to sleep, Go to work, Go where ever the light glows Follow the crowd, be a part of the now Your past actions will only be known as a noun, I've figured it out, I've opened the spout The opportunities are endless there just flowing about the waters of remembrance are very shallow, and impact must be heavy to make a splash Do what you love, and your passions will truly last Don't be stuck in the past, instead, thrive on what's here today This message is retrospective echoed in constant delay As I walk deeper into the dark this is what I truly say....L...O...S...T it's hard to stay on track when you've mentally lost perspective When everything you've known turns unfamiliar within seconds Is this good energy? or the spread of an infection? I need a tower of fortune cookies to hold my lessons For when that tower crashes it will crumble into a message Do I search for more? or do I stay inside the common section? I'm searching for the uncommon and people of rarity Who can explain the emotions of human irregularity? Will I sustain my vision of singularity art crafted in loops repetition brings recognition to patterns covered from clarity This is just a turn of the leaf roots of the past years die off they become obsolete, as we drift deeper into forms of technology, we suddenly find people in the form of anomalies Look outside your window and standing there I will be, a stranger in the night Peeping through windows for company Only searching for answers that all of us seem to seek Who will I be today and the following week Who will I meet today that will change who I want to be These are thoughts of the wanderer waking amount the streets
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Nov 22, 2016
Nov 22, 2016 at 12:25 AM UTC
Wanderer Of The Night
The wanderer walks more then he talks fished in a *** of emotions asteroid torn by the fact that time is a plant of which can't be regrown when grown on a slant oh surface what is my purpose? why am I here? what am I after? what is my fear? Stuck in a haze of being afraid of the future I'm the wanderer of night The walker of the shadows my feet glide lightly beneath the street & it's gravel I'm peeping at the living within the holes of their hollows Wondering if there lives are a cycle Go to sleep, Go to work, Go where ever the light glows Follow the crowd, be a part of the now Your past actions will only be known as a noun, I've figured it out, I've opened the spout The opportunities are endless there just flowing about the waters of remembrance are very shallow, and impact must be heavy to make a splash Do what you love, and your passions will truly last Don't be stuck in the past, instead, thrive on what's here today This message is retrospective echoed in constant delay As I walk deeper into the dark this is what I truly say....L...O...S...T it's hard to stay on track when you've mentally lost perspective When everything you've known turns unfamiliar within seconds Is this good energy? or the spread of an infection? I need a tower of fortune cookies to hold my lessons For when that tower crashes it will crumble into a message Do I search for more? or do I stay inside the common section? I'm searching for the uncommon and people of rarity Who can explain the emotions of human irregularity? Will I sustain my vision of singularity art crafted in loops repetition brings recognition to patterns covered from clarity This is just a turn of the leaf roots of the past years die off they become obsolete, as we drift deeper into forms of technology, we suddenly find people in the form of anomalies Look outside your window and standing there I will be, a stranger in the night Peeping through windows for company Only searching for answers that all of us seem to seek Who will I be today and the following week Who will I meet today that will change who I want to be These are thoughts of the wanderer waking amount the streets
Continue reading...
50
they packed the town into a big box and shipped it to southeast ohio they packed bryan adams into a box and shipped it to southeast asia they packed the baby into a box and shipped it to madonna drawn up with a silver pen the EPZs jurisdiction the cease fires declaration and the stockyards reopen for business the hundred thousand leaves shrouding the white house roar like a crowd, like a nation a few man's hands shake that sound like snake's tails rattling into a megaphone the heavy metal band pleads self-defense. they just play music. that's all they do they're not protesting except in a vague way against everything, they're not sure what perhaps the chaotic volume of their early adolescence a child bent around a pen is told to count the lima beans again he counted too fast a snarling dragon pulls up and he rides, concluding in a sorcerer's castle constructed of speedy fretwork and overbearing tablature the card game made us wizards, frankly, and we enjoyed it more than being what we were I throw the dice and the king's head tumbles with them into a basket a burmese girl sews the silhouette of a man performing a feat not meant for man into the side of a shoe that will wing you to heaven if heaven is as high as a slam dunk. boys in a park joust styrofoam swords a hand is folded behind the back to signify its heroic loss in battle. it is regrown momentarily to dunk a chicken mcnugget. in another park across town boys no longer **** each other for their shoes. jay z is in a booth with warren buffett and jerry seinfeld at daniel they are saving the galaxy the only one we have to save which nobody lives in anymore the forest is off in endor the snow belongs to hoth a boy fights a war in an afghan marketplace through his television set in hd and widescreen it's practically photorealisitic the guns sound authentic in 5.1 digital surround another boy fights the exact same war he wishes it did not look so real the internet, our new planet i shut the computer down 404: I am a file no longer to be found
0
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 1:15 PM UTC
Second Life
they packed the town into a big box and shipped it to southeast ohio they packed bryan adams into a box and shipped it to southeast asia they packed the baby into a box and shipped it to madonna drawn up with a silver pen the EPZs jurisdiction the cease fires declaration and the stockyards reopen for business the hundred thousand leaves shrouding the white house roar like a crowd, like a nation a few man's hands shake that sound like snake's tails rattling into a megaphone the heavy metal band pleads self-defense. they just play music. that's all they do they're not protesting except in a vague way against everything, they're not sure what perhaps the chaotic volume of their early adolescence a child bent around a pen is told to count the lima beans again he counted too fast a snarling dragon pulls up and he rides, concluding in a sorcerer's castle constructed of speedy fretwork and overbearing tablature the card game made us wizards, frankly, and we enjoyed it more than being what we were I throw the dice and the king's head tumbles with them into a basket a burmese girl sews the silhouette of a man performing a feat not meant for man into the side of a shoe that will wing you to heaven if heaven is as high as a slam dunk. boys in a park joust styrofoam swords a hand is folded behind the back to signify its heroic loss in battle. it is regrown momentarily to dunk a chicken mcnugget. in another park across town boys no longer **** each other for their shoes. jay z is in a booth with warren buffett and jerry seinfeld at daniel they are saving the galaxy the only one we have to save which nobody lives in anymore the forest is off in endor the snow belongs to hoth a boy fights a war in an afghan marketplace through his television set in hd and widescreen it's practically photorealisitic the guns sound authentic in 5.1 digital surround another boy fights the exact same war he wishes it did not look so real the internet, our new planet i shut the computer down 404: I am a file no longer to be found
Continue reading...
71
Nice to see you are opening the shop. Saying this I search for lines of distress on her face On her widowed eyes a painful strain For when went her man The way she wailed It seemed she would never be sane again! She smiles *now I run it alone Sale is low And I’m weighed down With his pile of debt!* In her smile are hopes regrown A telltale sign of grit The show must go on.
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Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 8:15 AM UTC
Grit
Walking through the pages of an empty notebook, the surprises are few and far between. Listening to the honks on Market Street and I remember when life was like back in 2009. The room was spinning around and liquor bottles hung from the ceiling. The hideous growl of a thousand broken promises. Chasing after a drunk ghost, through a maze of street signs and snowflakes. The night sky sends down shadow monsters, destined to return your soul. I refuse to accept that this is reality. My creative spirit has fallen into discontent. Oh Lord, please save me from these bright lights. I am going down 157. Waiting for the clock to strike any hour it pleases. Listening to the broken trees whisper their anger. Splintered from the weight of the crows, they fall. This will not end well. The problem with every story is that there is a beginning and an end.   Forgive me Father for I have sinned, my last confession was... when the Crown Royal was still a peasant. The victory seemed like a defeat and the birds flew south for the winter. Do not be afraid. This story ends with structure, responsibility, and order. The trees have regrown, hiding my secrets. My mind begins to wonder. Everything begins to swerve. Is this what happens when good men do nothing? Or when bad men fly?
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Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 1:49 PM UTC
Do Not Be Afraid.
survival is cheap This is how i feel this onion peel discarded shell of wasted empathy// this is how i taste this furry filthy ***** waste of flavours savoured. This is how it feels inside to die then lie in hope of faith restored. Sitting while it rains outside my thoughts. The seasons storm while thiniking//pausing//stroking i climb back into the safety of my mind. it is mine. To hibernate a pleasure brief but still so much grief to grieve. A cliche, this damp patch of regrown faith. This testament to survival. perhaps not the fittest, but always a stayer.
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Feb 9, 2010
Feb 9, 2010 at 2:31 AM UTC
Always a stayer
I wake up to the sound The sound ,noones ever heard It's my last day to afford a fortune Nothing that we couldn't learn........ Maybe we'll wake forgiving It's better safe than sound Maybe we'll fight forever Nothing that can't be done...... Back to the past, we ride Holdin' it dear to our hearts It's my last day to buy my fortune Nothin' that I couldn't learn....... Maybe we'll live forgetting A something that wasn't said Maybe we'll find a replacement A place for you to rest your head.... Back the the howling grounds Where the dogs of society roam You can't keep on forgetting The place where you were grown Placement that wasn't so right Back at the pillars and thrones My sandcastle stands in a mud pit Waiting to be regrown How can you sit and stand by As the hometown grows out of control You plant chains from a stake pike And place people beyond their own Maybe will live regretting Maybe it's all on you It's your last day to avenge the fallen, Something that was brought by you..... Place a crown on the stand As peasants wave to you Look out into the crowds As friendly faces wave to youuuu Maybe the Kings forgiving Maybe the Queens forgot To help those in need and helping Of those who couldn't learn...... Maybe we'll find a replacement Another duet to rule the land Maybe they'll leash their vengeance On someone other than you
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Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 11:00 AM UTC
Maybe we'll find a replacement
I've done things on my own gotten to relearn pieces of me regrown I'm still making up for the way things were finding the girl I was when I was her boy, do you miss me yet? I'm making myself proud I've found my voice, I'm getting loud And I'm not quite there but I'm en route haven't yet attained it but I'm in hot pursuit boy, do you miss me yet? and of all the pieces of you that fell away the music we shared just seems to stay it stays and stays, won't go away it won't diminish, it won't decay boy, do you miss me yet? And just like I used to listen to you singing in your car I can hear you forgetting me, tires kissing tar it's been two solid years and I need to know boy, will you ever let me go?
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Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 4:58 AM UTC
22
longing. yearning. wanting. so many words for a singular feeling. they never taught me how to love an enigma. mystery’s an intrigue. it wrenches you in like beast in beauty and the beast. joker in joker— now this is not to say you’re a ******* furry or an anarchist’s wet dream: you are holy. holy, as in baptise me in your aprillian light; grind my guts into grime break my bones into brimstones and let me love you twice as hard. thrice the hurt. four times the trouble, five times the heart you see, i’m very good at counting. i’ll even do it for the both of us. like how it’s been 437 days since saturn tore her knees. 75 days since you were anointed god. 20 after we fell apart and i know i’m jumping into conclusions again. i know you never said goodbye. not really, but what is “see you when i see you” if not a gentle rejection? you’re very fond of maybes, that’s how i knew you were god. so maybe we’ll meet in september, shades of chartreuse forgotten under our feet. changes in the weather, changes in the sweater your touch no longer seduces me like summer so then maybe, with bones regrown like eden i will reach for your temple and show you how much i love you.
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Jun 9, 2020
Jun 9, 2020 at 6:59 AM UTC
genesis in our palms
What he wanted to give me now I didn't want that anymore!! Why not give it another chance? Many questions are left unanswered I have made up my mind and decided to cross the line But they still want me to simply stay at my crossroads I have nothing to give or to accept When it's all over for me then how do I refrain Before it's too late for anything to protect I am saving the good moments and moving away There was too much pain in living alone Wanting to be with you and your love regrown But now I don't hold any grudges for more All that you want to give is not what I want anymore!!
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Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 10:08 AM UTC
I dont want it anymore!
rightful stone explode and then be regrown shock all night then we can play the day a two as the sun beats down hot upon the pavement looking at the cooking of cold hearted skins again and again to be lying on the treetops be mean be lean be everything the heart endures live through the Blue and in time it will do adjust repeat and center their self unto Me to be a dust of ticking center stage looking for a thing to keep me occupied mine eyes look at the land far deep so wide farthest way home backest way across the hill across the Universe song and tall i Sing: Yes forgotten bridge and bowl make two
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Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 9:27 PM UTC
Through the Blue&The Heart Endures Yes
Buoys up she from the sea I sail What poetry can’t address She serves me well. The sailor’s misery she knows His journey’s perilous waves A rope for me she throws Dragging to shore she saves. Watches over her caring face Suffers the navigator what distress Resuscitating with her sweet breath The mariner dying from illusive myth! This way she rebirths me Down on earth from the high sea And till is regrown the sailor’s wings We talk animated of life’s small things.
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Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 8:24 AM UTC
Our world of prose
Many nights I was cold. Many, many nights lies remain untold. If had the strength of a lion And the uncertain heart of The Zion- Then maybe I would crush- The endless incineration of the rush- One does take in self-destruct. When thy rose has been plucked- I cannot give it vital growth again. Nor can life be regrown through distrain. Then look to thine scars, unhealed. I am no Jezebel, fate to be sealed- And to be preyed upon by Serpentines And then be hated by Byzantines. So, hence, I will not speak the truth For they know not of the lies of youth. Let me cry like do the lost ones; That never escape the sound of the blazing guns.
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Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 7:18 PM UTC
Dwell
when you reappear in the sky, my soul is regrown shoot an arrow straight to my heart, many nights spent under the stars in this moonlit purple dome steam runs off our skin, while the heat waves rise running together in this exhilarating light, over the stones that cut our feet. I don't miss home. (Who would have known?) We do not stand alone.
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Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 2:52 PM UTC
constellations: Orion
Once upon a time, we lived in Shangri-log It was hollow and cozy and safe from the fog We built us a kitchen, out of sticks and stuff We built benches and shelter and swept away the duff We were working on the hill, early that spring Away from our log, when the bear gave a ring He raided all of our salty snacks, and even some of our liquor stash! And all he left was a big bear mess, and a pile of.. I'll let you guess... So we learned our lesson, no more storing food We cleaned up camp and life was good But we had to return to our toil Spreading horse **** amending soil The next time we returned to our big round squat Something was wrong, but we didn't know what.. We decided not to worry and we had a party We were lit up all night and the sky was starry... As the sun was coming up, the time for sleep rolled around But as we laid down to rest, we heard a startling sound... Beep! Beep! Beep! Filled the air! And a churning of trees! They were clearing the area, We needed to flee! We snatched up some things, hid the rest in a stump Our buddy was collapsing his tent on the run We got to the commune, but no sleep would be found... We all were uneasy about bulldozers on ground At the end of the day, When the workers were gone We dashed up the hill, to check on our zone Our camp was untouched, Our things were all fine But the brush had been cleared all under the power lines... And since our log was exposed, it was time to go (I think we can take a hint, dontcha know...) We cleaned everything up, Tore everything down Well almost everything, Our old bed's still around The years have gone by, The brush has regrown.. It's hard not to wish we could live in our old home...
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Apr 23, 2021
Apr 23, 2021 at 4:21 PM UTC
Bears and Bulldozers
Once upon a time, we lived in Shangri-log It was hollow and cozy and safe from the fog We built us a kitchen, out of sticks and stuff We built benches and shelter and swept away the duff We were working on the hill, early that spring Away from our log, when the bear gave a ring He raided all of our salty snacks, and even some of our liquor stash! And all he left was a big bear mess, and a pile of.. I'll let you guess... So we learned our lesson, no more storing food We cleaned up camp and life was good But we had to return to our toil Spreading horse **** amending soil The next time we returned to our big round squat Something was wrong, but we didn't know what.. We decided not to worry and we had a party We were lit up all night and the sky was starry... As the sun was coming up, the time for sleep rolled around But as we laid down to rest, we heard a startling sound... Beep! Beep! Beep! Filled the air! And a churning of trees! They were clearing the area, We needed to flee! We snatched up some things, hid the rest in a stump Our buddy was collapsing his tent on the run We got to the commune, but no sleep would be found... We all were uneasy about bulldozers on ground At the end of the day, When the workers were gone We dashed up the hill, to check on our zone Our camp was untouched, Our things were all fine But the brush had been cleared all under the power lines... And since our log was exposed, it was time to go (I think we can take a hint, dontcha know...) We cleaned everything up, Tore everything down Well almost everything, Our old bed's still around The years have gone by, The brush has regrown.. It's hard not to wish we could live in our old home...
Continue reading...
62
These bones cannot bring themselves to love just yet. The skin draped across this body has yet to find it’s proper position, constantly shifting as if displaced. My heart is 2 inches too far to the left, and I can hear the scraping of muscle against bone with each step I take. My lungs are far too shriveled and haven’t stretched to their great capacity since my first gulp of air. My body is shrinking within itself and a body that is fading from existence cannot be loved. I want to be ****** back into place. I want someone’s lips to force my soul back into its deteriorating body. I want his body pressing against mine until our hatred and fear cloud the lines between my body and I am no longer concerned with the space we occupy. I want soft sounds to echo from his mouth again and again and again until I have scientifically proven that my body is a solid form that can elicit emotion from another body. I want to feel his pounding hard, writhing form, panting body under mine until my bones can’t hear the sound of their weakness anymore. I want to be ****** until my heart is ****** back to it’s place, my lungs are stretched past their capacity to the point of pain, my bones are broken and regrown in stronger form, my eyes are torn from the inside of my body and forced to see the blurring lines of the exploding universe, my atoms are pushed closer together until my solid form cannot be denied. I want someone’s body to teach mine that it can be wanted in the most obscene, terrifying ways. Maybe then, I’ll forget that shame and hatred have interwoven themselves through my atoms, forcing me to believe that I am not and will never be whole.
0
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 5:00 AM UTC
An Honest Plea
These bones cannot bring themselves to love just yet. The skin draped across this body has yet to find it’s proper position, constantly shifting as if displaced. My heart is 2 inches too far to the left, and I can hear the scraping of muscle against bone with each step I take. My lungs are far too shriveled and haven’t stretched to their great capacity since my first gulp of air. My body is shrinking within itself and a body that is fading from existence cannot be loved. I want to be ****** back into place. I want someone’s lips to force my soul back into its deteriorating body. I want his body pressing against mine until our hatred and fear cloud the lines between my body and I am no longer concerned with the space we occupy. I want soft sounds to echo from his mouth again and again and again until I have scientifically proven that my body is a solid form that can elicit emotion from another body. I want to feel his pounding hard, writhing form, panting body under mine until my bones can’t hear the sound of their weakness anymore. I want to be ****** until my heart is ****** back to it’s place, my lungs are stretched past their capacity to the point of pain, my bones are broken and regrown in stronger form, my eyes are torn from the inside of my body and forced to see the blurring lines of the exploding universe, my atoms are pushed closer together until my solid form cannot be denied. I want someone’s body to teach mine that it can be wanted in the most obscene, terrifying ways. Maybe then, I’ll forget that shame and hatred have interwoven themselves through my atoms, forcing me to believe that I am not and will never be whole.
Continue reading...
2
I can perfectly recall The slight green tint To your storm blue eyes There were these perfect Sun enriched creases That spread like rays From the corners of them Watching me with intensity Rising heat even in the cold Closing my own I can still inhale How you smelled Sweat and horses Old leather Sometimes all your scents Combined with mine And I would catch my breath Gasp with surprise That no one else noticed You would touch my cheek softly Despite The telling work worn creases on the backs of your hands flecked with soft white Barbed wire scars Nails regrown after hammer altercations Stubborn ball-hitches Renegade gates Turned to suede Lifting my face to yours The velvet caress Of your high desert lips I can feel your stubbled chin still Brush roughly across my shoulder Shockingly coarse Leaving the skin tender Whiskerburnt You would drive With soo much weighing On your mind In your heart And in my youth fullness I would watch you Worship you Write love songs and poems That I folded into origami horses Saddles braided into reins All this time I remember you Except.................. I cannot recall More than the whisper Of falling clothing Our own muted sounds And the dust set alight In those summer scorched buildings Did you say something Did I My voice file for you is incomplete And soo far away from that moment Here I'm still writing Poems Only The creases are mine now Folded still No longer horses But instead Into the shapes of our mountains (JL)
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May 15, 2017
May 15, 2017 at 3:27 PM UTC
Creased and Folded Paper
I’ve put this off for a long time Not knowing what words would come to form Hoping I could say something new But it all just feels the same You let me fall and didn’t catch me But like a shooting star I’ll gleam bright Falling hard and burning beautiful This fire inside will soon be gone And our love over before the sun breaches the mountains in the distance. I’ve been told that I shine But it feels so lonely and cold because this dark room is without you And I have to burn to see how bright I can be I have to know it’ll be alright without you No longer paired but severed at the seams We fought and tore all hope apart But you walked away first Regret never on your lips The bus rolls away without turning back But I wait in the cold hoping it will Knowing it won’t The comfort of God is on both sides No one right, no one wrong, But it had to be that way for you Perfectly divided and clean cut So that you could justify the hurt “You deserve” is a stupid term “I want” is more acceptable But it’s not enough to sustain and apparently neither am I Fear not, because I have not forgotten All the times I held you crying All the times I heard you yelling All the times you said you’re sorry And all the times I never believed you. Don’t worry, cause I know we are different Just disappointed that differences make divisions And we are joined by only one thing now. Jesus stands with both of us you see? He knows, He loves, and He heals both our hearts But how should I feel when you only take? How should I feel when you’re only right, And I am only left, to tell you, “This is what I know, and I don’t want to let go.” With ears far away, carrying my heart in your hands You forget to let me have it back, And I search for the day when I can be free of that heart. Oh Lord make me whole through You alone. Don’t let these broken sins and forgotten promises Tear me from your Love. Words Words, that’s all they feel like. But in the depths of my soul I cry for God. I cry for justice and patience, I cry for humility and grace, And I cry out for answers. God will not answer me. He will show me, With a new adventure I’ll embarque, Enjoying the journey, but will happily hurry. I’ll hurry to leave and gather new millage, Go up and down the windy trail until slowly. So painfully. So eagerly. I will find new treasures. I will be regrown, and my heart will sing again Like a tree after the fire. Like a flower after the winter. And you are distant, running with my rotted heart. Trotting along in a separate direction, With Jesus on your mind, And God on your heart, But only looking for what you need. A different path, a different way. Not wrong, just not the same.
0
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 2:18 AM UTC
Release
I’ve put this off for a long time Not knowing what words would come to form Hoping I could say something new But it all just feels the same You let me fall and didn’t catch me But like a shooting star I’ll gleam bright Falling hard and burning beautiful This fire inside will soon be gone And our love over before the sun breaches the mountains in the distance. I’ve been told that I shine But it feels so lonely and cold because this dark room is without you And I have to burn to see how bright I can be I have to know it’ll be alright without you No longer paired but severed at the seams We fought and tore all hope apart But you walked away first Regret never on your lips The bus rolls away without turning back But I wait in the cold hoping it will Knowing it won’t The comfort of God is on both sides No one right, no one wrong, But it had to be that way for you Perfectly divided and clean cut So that you could justify the hurt “You deserve” is a stupid term “I want” is more acceptable But it’s not enough to sustain and apparently neither am I Fear not, because I have not forgotten All the times I held you crying All the times I heard you yelling All the times you said you’re sorry And all the times I never believed you. Don’t worry, cause I know we are different Just disappointed that differences make divisions And we are joined by only one thing now. Jesus stands with both of us you see? He knows, He loves, and He heals both our hearts But how should I feel when you only take? How should I feel when you’re only right, And I am only left, to tell you, “This is what I know, and I don’t want to let go.” With ears far away, carrying my heart in your hands You forget to let me have it back, And I search for the day when I can be free of that heart. Oh Lord make me whole through You alone. Don’t let these broken sins and forgotten promises Tear me from your Love. Words Words, that’s all they feel like. But in the depths of my soul I cry for God. I cry for justice and patience, I cry for humility and grace, And I cry out for answers. God will not answer me. He will show me, With a new adventure I’ll embarque, Enjoying the journey, but will happily hurry. I’ll hurry to leave and gather new millage, Go up and down the windy trail until slowly. So painfully. So eagerly. I will find new treasures. I will be regrown, and my heart will sing again Like a tree after the fire. Like a flower after the winter. And you are distant, running with my rotted heart. Trotting along in a separate direction, With Jesus on your mind, And God on your heart, But only looking for what you need. A different path, a different way. Not wrong, just not the same.
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Crossing beside a gravestone path as the sky closes in Foot falls meet with deaf ears and the clouds open up Looking over the regrown grass Where the rain came down Where I know youd be looking back In the fog we drown You never told me and now its too late you werent the only victim why couldnt you wait? Open to me, we could both breathe You breathe through me please speak wholly! Open to me! Please dont fool me! Don't undo me You have to speak Now, speak through me Open to me! A path between old headstones A suffering you didnt know! If tears furnish the weeds On the trail growing Better than the water from you to me the path outlined To your souless tomb will grow stronger Please make room! Open to me, we could both breathe You breathe through me please speak wholly! Open to me! Please dont fool me! Don't undo me You have to speak Now, speak through me Open to me!
0
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 1:36 PM UTC
Open to Me
It is Day Now Finally a Moment Free from the cage.. Heavens Wisdom unleashed from constraints of Happiness A Lovers Pen Once Held by a Parliament of Ugliness...... Risen Now by the Hands of Freedom Liberties LIFE Standing... Rainbow Miracle ...........Barnabas, Yours is a Symphony of Eternal Goodness A Pen and Ink of Sharing, Time has ReGrown For You That the World May Be Blessed By LIFES' Sunshine Love In Peace. And So It Is.
0
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 6:19 AM UTC
Harp Vine