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Delia Darling Sep 2018
As I stand here, outside my work building
stealing a smoke break
I wonder about God and the universe
and how much happier it makes me feel
to believe in other things

That the sun was a running man
chasing the stars in that endless black
run man
run fast
run free
but freedom only gets you
slipping and sliding in circular leaps
around our earth, almost like
a clumsy mouse in a stationary wheel
and these sneaky stars
always one step ahead at sunrise
or at his heels in sunset

My mom’s a Catholic woman
she won’t believe in the running man
her stars are not stars, no
her stars are rosaries in purses and
priest’s words
taught words
holy words
but holy words are also
human words, are they not?
It never made sense to me
that a person could live their whole life
repenting it

But then again,
my dad used to have me work in our yard,
picking the weeds outside
and he let me treasure them in a vase
he never called them weeds,
they were always
wishing flowers
but wild only gets you
believing in the sun and
keeping shrubs in vases
All of which suit me, because

In the lonely nights of endless black,
I have the company of my own stars
and when holy words of weeds fall back
I remember that—
wild humans are only wildflowers
Just some random thoughts induced by an insignificant smoke break
Lizzy Dec 2014
You held my bones together
Kept me all intact.
But now I'm coming unhinged.
My fingers are losing feeling,
Detached from who I am.

My dry tongue,
And teeth falling lose.
Can only make a slapping sound,
No cry for help.

My skin is so lonely
My hips go untouched.
I shiver so quick
I look frost bitten.
But really I'm just cold,
Without a warming touch.

I'm sorry I'm weak,
And can't keep my pace.
But it's all moving so fast
And I'm trying so hard
Not to fall behind.

I'm pushing my legs
As far as they will go.
And I know my slow knees,
Are holding you back.

I can't give you life,
But god, i can try.
To make you feel as deeply,
As fully as me.
I can't promise you much
Because I'm an unpredictable mess.

But I can promise
I'll give you all that I have.
Sacrificing my sanity
To keep yours intact.

My prayers have become
Begging cries.
Begging to god
To keep us alive.

Repenting the sins
I've scared myself for.
I came so close
To recovering my soul.

But you might as well be ******,
Or some other drug.
I itch for you
Return to my veins.
But with every drug
Comes a crash.

A weightless,
Glowing feeling,
When you get the first taste.
But really it's just poison,
Ruining your veins.
I like this
Noel Billiter Jul 2018
Resisting your surrender
Like a passionate pretender
Cursing your existence
So unruly cant even believe it
Rehearsing until morning
For a ending to your story
Searching for a reason
Why you’re always out of season
Still wearing those ***** clothes
And swearing at the Her ghost
Living in your furry
Just makes things more blurry
Some drunken thrills
Followed by some healing pills
Staring at the mirror
Thinking it will look clearer

Resisting your departure
And what seems like constant torture
Insisting on the weather
To lead you somewhere farther
Counting on tomorrow
To release you from your sorrow
Leads you to forgiveness
Repenting all your sins and
Starting a new chapter
In this new world that you are  after
Living in the moment
Gives you quick atonement
Walking from the ashes
The past and what it’s taken
Your soul now unbroken from this spell
That had you been under
A Montage of Homages:

I’m ever the devoted fool
Trusting dreams as love
I’m ever the stubborn child
Never repenting enough

I’m the lone wanderer of Nevsky Prospect
Trivial like the gadfly against the lofty sky
Overlooked as a dusty tattered Overcoat
Crushed like an ant beneath the Bronze Horseman

When the bright lingers beyond dusk
When the dark, at dawn, hesitant to depart
Am I ever awake through all of time
Or am I to sleep all white days and nights

All I am certain is, that
Only in dreams can we reunite
All I know is, that this
Is the Dreamer’s sole purpose of life

The Saint Petersburg Dreamer
Long for a love beyond common strive
Yet, only exists to slumber through life
To finally awake when the night is nigh

Upon the earth, he’s a mere dust
When the tide arrives, all will be lost

The Saint Petersburg Dreamer
You mustn't have noticed he’s still there
Upon each and every torn overcoat
Every patch resewn: his dreams and love
The Saint Petersburg Dreamer
By: Yidhna
I originally wrote this one in Chinese actually right after taking two short classes on Russian literature. Just thought to translate this today.
I seem to be unable to get back to reading, constantly feeling an unstoppable urge to express all these redundant thoughts.

My cup of thoughts runneth over, but instead of enlightenment, I fear they are needless, already said, too much, too bland, too dull.

With references from:

War and Peace
The Overcoat
Nevsky Prospect
White Nights
Hafza Awan Sep 6
And you think
After doing wrong
repenting on it for sometime
and cleaning all  the dirt
has made you pure and clean
Ready to go before God
As water has removed all your filth

you came out like
no one is as pure as you are
Though in your mind
you are drafting another sin
some other day, some other time

Look into your soul mirror
Is that really clean?
Are you really pure?
Have you washed your soul?

This is the final high

The final weekend to get high


Out thru the stratosphere

Looking down at its tower

Sin city on this final


Sunday night Repenting

From such a criminal high

Oh so high

As they read me, throwing

The book at me

Judged by my lackadaisical


It’s the final time

To get stupid to say goodbye

To boy who refuses

To grow up

To heave the load


Of this **** *****!

Farewell to Fun Freely

For serious now

I now do see

Career path open with mindful eyes

For serious now the world

Will eat you

Out there babies in this

Spherical stomach

The digested / dies like

Minutia Flotsam debris

From waves Hi Low


To Tomorrow

Take hold make mines


But for tonight,

Oh my Friday Starlight!

It’s the last night,

To get high / know  why?


Reality will drug test

Taking DNA / The Helix Towers

Through true blue


My serious eyes looking fondly upward




My Friday Night Starlight

On high.
For Beloved most.
MU Oct 2018
Postopone the trip
To help another
Continue the journey

Postone the trip
Embark a new one
With your soul

You are the mistress
Of the path
From tears to fight
Repenting missteps
All your way
By filling others
With delight

Postpone the trip
And understand
The real purpose
Of all travels

To find a truth
Not reach a place
Inside your mind
Not on the map

Postpone the trip
And you shall find
The source of light
Inside your heart

Postopne the trip
You are your home
Regardless of
Where you shall leave

Be the destination
You want to see
Be the change
You’re looking for

Postpone it
And you will realize
The end is you
It’s always YOU...
Understanding the real purpose of travel
gray rain Mar 19
Maybe this world is the fiery pit we all fear?
For our temptation is what makes everything wrong;
hell is a place of torment and punishment.
We cannot even love for this is sin.
We cannot even love for that is sin!
We cannot love because everything moral is immoral.
Every death is punishment,
every natural crisis a reflection of all wrongdoing
and yet it could all be worse.
We are supposed to believe it could all be worse.
We are supposed to be moral and repent when we are not!
But... we can never stop repenting because we never know when we will die!
We must repent of all sin.
We never know when we will receive our final punishment.
We never know morality because everything is immoral.
Love is immoral, love is the cause of pain, love is the reason for conflict, love is the reason for sin, love is the reason we are already in hell.
I've been thinking about the turmoil in the current world all conflict is based on passion and love except that love and passion is for different things. This world is a world of extremes nothing will ever be agreed upon and so there will be constant punishment and misery thrown at anyone, it seems to follow the same ideas of what I imagine hell to be like.
Mark Sep 7
Undo the plague your love's befallen men;
By I with love alone to rescue you,
Repenting is but part of mine to when-
Forgiveness is bestowed by them purview:
As then, by heart to heart yourself shall mend;
To love through virtue's gate, that I do love;
But angel I am not nor can I send -
From you, contempt with all contempt thereof,
Immune then I cannot and suffer so;
As sweet is only sweet when sour is known;
And wise do take with love the love to know
The grace that made is often more that's shown:

So leave the hearted trails within our wake
And newer love let born, for lover's sake.
Aléa Boodoo Oct 24
You’re in pain
I know
Partially because I’m to blame
I’m why you sit in the dark replaying all your faults and all your mistakes
I’m why you’re remembering every “I love you” and picking out which is real and which is fake
And they’re all fake. Don’t ask me how I know. That’s just the way it is
See, I wanted to love you, but I didn’t want the burden that comes with it
The burden of carrying something more special than my hands were made to hold
So when I’m done repenting, I’ll turn over my life for you to scold
But you’re not going to. You’re going to hug me and say it’s okay
You're going to say that you love me and I can't change that, no matter what I say
Because it’s who you are. Perfection at its finest
Next to your kindness is me, a shadow in my wrong
Knowing that I feel for you, even when my shortcomings feel long
I know you feel for me too. You love the code to your destruction
I bring balance. In some twisted way, you need me to function
I knew that, and yet I watched you blindly walk on the road to your innocent love’s end
I watched you dance in the dark. I saw you fall in love with heartbreak’s friend
I knew it didn't have to be like that. I knew I had a flexible position
Instead. I denied my love for you, and for your emotional death, I started the ignition
I'm sorry that I said I loved only her and not you
It’s just that my love was blinded by another
She dried my tears. You healed the wounds in my mind. Somehow neither the perfect lover
I let you meet the friendly stranger. The one known for its addicting danger
But that’s what you like, and that’s what you desire
Beautiful liar
You go deeper in the water and you love messing with fire
Bryce May 13
Standing upon these novel halls
The man, waiting
Seeks temperance and a kindness from God

He says,

"Give to me the gift of your knowledge and I will smite your enemy--rebuild the garden and replace those fruits long lost"

And his request echoes impotent through a voiceless hall

He cries, wails, churns and smashes
his dirtied knuckles on the walls

He yells, buckles, whines and sputters
Choked and lost in miserable,

The flanking rooms locked and dark
With constant voicing, gently call

"Who upon ye has the gall,
to name me Father"

And he is quiet.


In Moscow the Siberian fall grips the air
A wandering Dostoyevsky speaks in exhalations to the crack of gunshot in the dawn

A brief tightening of callous rope around his dry poetic throat

And at once his words sought to cull
the exquisite embers of furious retort

And he is silent.


The kindness of a failing city-state
Conveyed on the precipice of a bay
Jack teethed his frantic dharmas
And said to Them,

"What terminus of road
Would ever serve my unwinding soul?"

And as his gut trembled a final thought,
His eyes turned skyward, above the clouds

Where it was silent.


Dorigen, repenting the patient shores of tranquil sea
Accusing the chalk of its blackened soul
Traces the subtle dance of gulls
As their drowning feathers face these ageless things
whysper'd deep upon the winds

And she is Silent.


Basho, with a wanderer's grin
In solumn steps between the grains
Shades the path of unfamiliar road
And every poem steeped within

Where clouds are soft, where crickets sing
Past warbling stream with cadence grim
The Dao, leading ever onward

Says to him,

"Like water, do I rain."


Milton, his misted eyes
No light to guide their failed sight
Trace an ancient knowing glance
To Crown, his subtle circumstance

No soul in life
could see the might
Who gave this man his funeral rites

And when his words fall deaf at last
On his forgotten time and wishful past

He will stare deep into an inky void
And see
The stars for what they are:

Light, dispersed between the dark.


In the waning tide of Cresent lune
Twilight casts a gentle hue
Below the hill the city glows
The Palatine, gold and new

The ides, with consequence they come
And with them carry the will be done
Augustus' silent retinue of one
Notes a sky of draining sun

For Rome claws at all of Gaia's *******
And from sea to mount and desert dune
Ancient Africa, nascent Gaul
To Rome, will they forever fall

In darkness, the Palatine shadow loomed
Over web of flame-lit avenue

For the roads all led to Rome that night
For one small moment God guessed right

Cesar's legions on the fields of Mars
Clashed swords and drank to their Centurions
As an Era waited to see the dawn
And new blood to baptize the marbled Columns

And in the farms
beyond Rome,
The shepherds walked their sheep to rest
Where families returned to their homes
With stories of the day's parades and jests

And in the time
Between the days
When Rome slept and the crickets mated
The world was cast in velvet night
Lighted solely by constellation

And in that moment
God became
s Nov 2018
i don't even know
what i want anymore,
writing poems in your notebook
on my apartment floor
i opened myself to you
like i've never done before
you roamed those empty hallways
before you slammed the front door

but now you beg me to let you back in
does your love ever end or begin?
i don't want to be hung up
on what could-have-been
but i'm exhausted from repenting
for all of these sins

and i'm running out of ways
to numb the pain
you're gone from my life
but i smell your scent in the rain
all i wanted was my freedom
but you're a ball and chain
all i wanted was pure love
but this one's driving me insane

— The End —