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"relm" poems
They say come shine with us brotha We'll make you a star Above the life your living Into a new beginning They Really want you to Illuminate... So They'll scope you out, take your talents and you'll Illumainate.. Out of the darkness of nothingness the normal everyday Into a new relm of darkness Blinded, guided all the way, So You'll do as they say becasue you want their way of lifestyle they portray, But thats not their everyday But You Illuminate..... On the black and white cause colors don't exsit well not by themselves just hidden in abyss But you Illuminate.... Climbing to the top your light can't be stoped, As a pawn in their chess game you just want the fame Because you Illuminate.... You think we are not the same And you do as they say found no better way to see but out one Eye an As You Illuminate... All You see is I Cuz To you thats who got you there, But they know it was them and You so unaware You Illuminate For Him, Marrying the night with contracts that seem so right and then Your tied to strings To Illuminate All there things, the corruption of the pure No longer your own source of power, But they're your electricity Causing you to Illuminate The way they want you to be Binded To the ROC Universal Mind control, But everyone Once a chance To Illuminate The Soul.... Making this your goal you dont understand, They say to be great... You Need To Illuminate....
0
May 18, 2012
May 18, 2012 at 11:28 AM UTC
Illuminate
I believe people can change. Anyone, in any time of their life can change, but only if they are willing. The problem lies in the fact that most people are not willing to change, they are, instead, trying to change you. I have tried to reach through their mental barriers, but words only push so hard. I tried to show them videos, certian circumstances, I even took a stand against an entire community, risked relationships with people that I love, people who looked up to me, people that were important... But, I guess, not as important as the big picture I see. They will always refuse to see my picture and rather show me theirs. I listened, I watched, I read, and I submerged myself in their world, and tried to see what they saw... And I still said "no". So when I try to do the same, I am not even aloud to bring it up anymore, unless it's from their relm, because they are cowards. They want to believe, not take action. People are timid to bleed, to cry, to feel what another feels. The truth makes them cringe because they don't understand. They don't want to understand. So therefore it's wrong, or it's right, or it ceases to exist. Change requires action. I hope you're comfey in your chair.
0
Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 2:34 AM UTC
Change
alone in the depths of my minds chaotic commotion trapped in the relm of my ever changing emotion trying to make sense of my hopeless devotion instead i turn, holding my gaze to the ocean caressing the shore, the waves pull me in unleashing, unlocking something deep within teasing and taunting daring me to begin for life is a game i can never win the lull of the waves whisper softly in my ear silently beckoning me to surrender my fear awakening my senses, pulling me near as i look out to the ocean my perception becomes clear
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Jan 19, 2011
Jan 19, 2011 at 8:51 PM UTC
lull of the waves
his leisure suit is neatly folded benith his sweating palms each exact line per-measured and tailored to demonstrate to all who gaze on his corrupt face that he is a man in need of a beach a little drink with an umbrella and a dusky girl named Lola she walks the fenceline she mends the gaps with patchs from the pants of this girl from phish tour and peices of the tye-dye tapestry she uses as a blanket we mend our lives with the things we have at hand we see our lives in the slow motion of each days new reality regardless of its bearing on what reality really is its a painting of a man painting a smile on a sad womans face sitting on hasting's whisper wall the corporate man with his far eastern flavors tends to exaggerate his bent frame over people sitting at the whisper wall his face sings a sweet song but his fingers set fires in the pockets of passerby's stealing the coins of the relm but only the ones with a stuttering king gone down this road many a time seen this same company of rabble-rousers dressed in folds of scented linen walking along the river road disscussing in mid-evil painters and poets but they never resolve  the questions of the universe they never even agree what topping to get on the pizza so much for the rule of wisdom been many years since i sat at hastings-on-the-hudson's whisper wall with that girl but i still cherish the conversations we had and time i spent there with her i have a new whisper wall on a beach facing the setting sun
0
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 11:51 AM UTC
hastings on hudson whisper wall
his leisure suit is neatly folded benith his sweating palms each exact line per-measured and tailored to demonstrate to all who gaze on his corrupt face that he is a man in need of a beach a little drink with an umbrella and a dusky girl named Lola she walks the fenceline she mends the gaps with patchs from the pants of this girl from phish tour and peices of the tye-dye tapestry she uses as a blanket we mend our lives with the things we have at hand we see our lives in the slow motion of each days new reality regardless of its bearing on what reality really is its a painting of a man painting a smile on a sad womans face sitting on hasting's whisper wall the corporate man with his far eastern flavors tends to exaggerate his bent frame over people sitting at the whisper wall his face sings a sweet song but his fingers set fires in the pockets of passerby's stealing the coins of the relm but only the ones with a stuttering king gone down this road many a time seen this same company of rabble-rousers dressed in folds of scented linen walking along the river road disscussing in mid-evil painters and poets but they never resolve  the questions of the universe they never even agree what topping to get on the pizza so much for the rule of wisdom been many years since i sat at hastings-on-the-hudson's whisper wall with that girl but i still cherish the conversations we had and time i spent there with her i have a new whisper wall on a beach facing the setting sun
Continue reading...
40
"Take me back to Jupiter" the little girl cried. Tears in her eyes, releasing a sigh of.... something. A release of a subject, something not quite in the relm of love but that of loathing. Losing by the tail feather of cupids arrow. Grazing his cheek. Pricking the skin in her chest. Planting a flower of heart petals which blooms in her eyes- Mid blink. When her eyes open. She sees you. And you let that feeling, The dopamine feeling. The chemical experiment which runs through your veins, Pounding in your heart, Fluttering in your stomach, Pressing against your lips Without realising.... She also saw someone else when she opened her eyes. Instead of a monogamy of romance youve invited yourself into a competition you can't win since she'll always love the both of you... And there's nothing you can do about that.
0
May 7, 2019
May 7, 2019 at 9:39 AM UTC
Cupid's Target Practice
My drought had been long My thrist severe inside The desert cold of my loneliness. Such a pining I felt And could not describe but My need was easily understood. I had a craving for contact Of warm skin, conditioned hair, Under the saftey of a comforter. The Night's cold that chills May speak of my need, but the Wounds of my soul held the truth. I could feel myself withering In the cold desert of my feelings- Such a death I wish on no one. My rewaking arose with the cold Sting of a blade, feeling warm against my icy veins. The blade made a flow of words into my mind and bid me to write them here. Of such reminders I have few, But I remember this feeling, Which I asked to wait outside the door. Upon Her entry I remembered why I had avoided Her for so long, Her cold gaze penetrating my heart. It was not in my strength to Fain a second defense against The onslaught of her will. She held me in her frigid embrace And I thanked her for it, For within it was a hint of what I longed. I knew the blade was Hers, And bid her again my gratitude, For I knew this death would let me live. It is almost morbidly humorous That Loneliness can take care of Those enslaved to her so well. Clasping the wound from the blade I walked out the Door, wishing to Turn back and show my rejoice of my freedom. There was little time however, And I wished to say goodbye to a Chosen few, and the journey was harsh. The wind outside howled and snow Bit at my face, much like those I felt necessary to bid my adieu. While I can scarcely recall My meetings with both, I know The burden was lessened by the visit. The touch of a warm hand lingered On my cheek, and the taste of a kiss On my tongue were the only memories I left with. At the Gateway to the Relm of the Warm I looked back quietly on the Land of the Lonely. I know many despise that Queendom, But I cultivated a fondness for it Few can grow, and fewer can explain. At 2AM I took a longing breath Of the coldness that surrounded me And with it I walked out the archway.
0
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 3:00 AM UTC
Queen of Loneliness
My drought had been long My thrist severe inside The desert cold of my loneliness. Such a pining I felt And could not describe but My need was easily understood. I had a craving for contact Of warm skin, conditioned hair, Under the saftey of a comforter. The Night's cold that chills May speak of my need, but the Wounds of my soul held the truth. I could feel myself withering In the cold desert of my feelings- Such a death I wish on no one. My rewaking arose with the cold Sting of a blade, feeling warm against my icy veins. The blade made a flow of words into my mind and bid me to write them here. Of such reminders I have few, But I remember this feeling, Which I asked to wait outside the door. Upon Her entry I remembered why I had avoided Her for so long, Her cold gaze penetrating my heart. It was not in my strength to Fain a second defense against The onslaught of her will. She held me in her frigid embrace And I thanked her for it, For within it was a hint of what I longed. I knew the blade was Hers, And bid her again my gratitude, For I knew this death would let me live. It is almost morbidly humorous That Loneliness can take care of Those enslaved to her so well. Clasping the wound from the blade I walked out the Door, wishing to Turn back and show my rejoice of my freedom. There was little time however, And I wished to say goodbye to a Chosen few, and the journey was harsh. The wind outside howled and snow Bit at my face, much like those I felt necessary to bid my adieu. While I can scarcely recall My meetings with both, I know The burden was lessened by the visit. The touch of a warm hand lingered On my cheek, and the taste of a kiss On my tongue were the only memories I left with. At the Gateway to the Relm of the Warm I looked back quietly on the Land of the Lonely. I know many despise that Queendom, But I cultivated a fondness for it Few can grow, and fewer can explain. At 2AM I took a longing breath Of the coldness that surrounded me And with it I walked out the archway.
Continue reading...
63
I've always heard silence is golden but, what if your voice is stolen Is it then as precious as gold or is it more like steel bars bitter and cold I've always been told the grass isn't greener on the other side sometimes I wonder and sometimes I think they lied I have heard on the wind, you reep what you soe I ponder this as I weep for a foe All these expressions , these old wise tales They try to nutshell the human nature All that we fail and all that we hail I believe life is short we must set sail , we must leave port Explore the relm on which we grace Hand in hand and face to face Love all that you hold dear cherish every hug and every tear Never ...ever live in fear Always follow your heart, but let your mind co-pilot Hold on to your pride but keep it in your pocket Live your dreams but,don't dream your life Your life is a vessel upon a vast sea Do you want to be the sail that guides your way or continue being the anchor that holds you down today.......
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Jun 2, 2010
Jun 2, 2010 at 3:37 AM UTC
Silence Is Golden?
We will never understand the reason If we only focus on this life Or the purpose of God and the plans that he's got For the good of all mankind If we only see daily mounting troubles And not the Glory that's soon to come That God set aside when his son came to die Offering that free gift to everyone While some gladly take, others seal their own fate Judging themselves apart from God's Love Setting all of the blame on the God who loves them Thinking they know when they clearly don't In speaking those words they just add to the curse An eternity of Hell fire and brimstone Because somehow they think for them to believe They first must give everything up No way could they know the treasures bestowed For those who die to themselves Giving all that they have to what forever lasts Forsaking everything else We never will understand the reason If we only focus on today Instead of what's to come in the heavenly relm While what we have here quickly passes away
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Dec 3, 2017
Dec 3, 2017 at 8:16 AM UTC
Where's Your Focus
Introducing someone to poetry is like rubbing steel on concrete the grit makes sparks, and the sparks grow and glow and though the steel is dull, and the back abiss of its coloration can be depressing still the sparks glow still they grow but this time, with vengeance
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Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 6:21 PM UTC
new to this relm
This is a repost of a repost I once posted Just to get somebody to read As I'm quickly running out of ideas In the relm of poetry My hopes is it's far enough back in the pack Where the first repost has faded from mind Along with the fact originality I lack At this moment in time I might add an extra line of rhyme That didn't come to mind the first, second, and third time In case it looks too familiar When brought out in the light Then with this repost of a repost I once posted No one should suspect a thing Although they may have their suspicions In its rhyming and its ring Sometimes I figure if even I can't remember Myself writing out this poem Then I have no worries as we all read in a hurry And no one will ever know
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Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 10:04 AM UTC
A Repost Of A Repost I Once Posted
Immersed in deep and warm waters In blissful, warm, and clear sparkling oceans I swim to a relm of deeper awareness Thoughts connecting radio waves from my mind...to another..excited emotions. Two souls connected as one. More powerful as one mind Than as two separate minds thinking alone.. Electrified waves of deeper discovery To the answers to the complex problems that ate through to the bone. A team Fighting, together, to aid in the strength of our future. Clairvoyance doubles security and the power of our intellects To defeat those full of blind ignorance Once at our weakest A disease,to us, once infects Us to a scared fever of delirium Now the ones who were the disease Through combined teaching Are the cured ones. Miles apart..however ,in mind, we are always together. Connected as one We defeat overwhelming odds As one energy, forever.
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Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 8:12 AM UTC
One and Forever Fused Together
As the pain of the knife i felt stabbing me in the back The black whole and black universal abyss pirate treasure map cracked Open seasame on seasomy street elmo and big bird snack The plate and tunnel vision tube with birning pictures attack... The records of archives and tape recorder ****** Maxing out credit cards until andromada Pandora bOX crack Thankfully the painting on the picture in the kitchen MATCh MAX Max a million in mortal and immortals WW{3} combat The water is broken and the paint on the Mona Lisa cheek smack Still with a poker face straight face held in perfection barracks One military commander and commandress controlling a corporation sleeping sack In church with briefcase packed My relm is never out of wack Black cat crosses ducks quack Ducking and dodging paper stacked
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Jul 2, 2017
Jul 2, 2017 at 2:25 PM UTC
Inspire spare tires so TIrEd
My insomnia is getting to me, seeing things that should only exist; in my dream relm. I wonder, can the people around me see them too? ...No, or they'd be screaming too.
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Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 11:09 AM UTC
Insomnia drives me mad
The sun took it's first breath. The moon flew downward, Attempting to take a rest. The beautiful rays of the sky, Drew a question mark written across The blue oasis asking "Why?" That's when I first saw you there, Oh, and if any words could tell you where Myheart is, it is lost. Disappeared in an invisible relm, Washed away by numb feelings To overwhelm my body, my mind, my soul, To grasp every word drawn up in my Occupied mind would surely be a blessing, For you have definately, undeniable, amazingly stole my heart I don't understand what went wrong; My love, Or my song, Sung for you. Which one came first? My reasoning or my verse Read to you? What made the words form oh so Perfectly? But where did I leave you? Marked up, Bloddy, lain upon a road I only wish I knew. Fell past behind an opposing fate. On that road, I left my soul. All smiles slid down to my shadows, My shadow smiles now. My mind stole my words, My mind speaks for me now. My body breathes, My body lives now. My soul has a voice, My soul screams now and cries For you. Every breath departed from these lips Sings a song only for you. Line by line, Layer by layer, I express every feeling for you. When your palms rested against my skin, My whole entire being felt you. Pumping gratefulness through the veins. I feel beyond myself in your grasp, The warmth of your touch.
0
Jan 4, 2019
Jan 4, 2019 at 5:25 PM UTC
Beyond Myself
She stands in front  the mirror, looking from head to toe. She stands in front the mirror, as the tears flow. Why can't she be pretty? Why can't she be strong? Why can't she be the one, that anyone wants? She stands in front the mirror, all broken and alone. She stands in front the mirror, hoping for a home. Just wishing she could, walk through the glass, to another relm. Closing her eyes, She begins to dream. A life. A love. A hope, for better it seemed. She looks up, and hope something's changed. Sadly only a broken girl staring, into the mirror remains.
0
Mar 24, 2018
Mar 24, 2018 at 12:21 PM UTC
In Front the Mirror