"rightfulness" poems
~Modesty & Respect has been lost and now the tears are too hot to turn into frost~
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Sickness in the mind is revised
As the eyes are revealed to a non-existing surprise
Pretending that the colorful pills are sweet tasting skittles
While tears forms into a spiraled riddle
Generations are messed up because good-teachings are slack
So in the young minds rightfulness lack
There is peace even if chaos may seem to consume
In dark tunnels a dim light will soon loom
But if you perceive
To conceive
Not to believe
Then tell me how will you ever achieve?
Life is not a game, but a vivid reality
So save every special moment of sensuality
Remember that you are an instrument
Play your life story, sing your mind, and bleed your words out loud with contentment
You’re not useless
Humanities truths…believe every single bit of it, release your stress
Strength lies within your heart
You’re such a beautiful sculpted art
Do the opposite of what depression tells you, you won’t lose
Your fate lies in each choice you make, carefully choose
Your future is the next moment
Make each obstacle your stepping stone and then you can easily avoid torment
Then spectral corruption
Will never be able to destroy your inner emotion
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Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 6:05 PM UTC
Two sparkle at xciting find.
Joy, relief, wishes flood our mind.
Reality numbed by ecstasy of find
Hardship, struggle, desires for now behind
Rightfulness of find, reality’s duality
Realization of self, fighting morality
The opportunity loss creates uncertainty.
The opportunity gain, creates possibility
How to capitalize on this potential
Designed improvements appear preferential
Decided, we proceed unconventional
We proceed like natural
Blades of diamonds remove the rough
Painstakingly disregarding, unwanted stuff
Transformation, tough
Mindful, not to lose a bough
Rough turn sparkle, every time
Faceted gem’s birth, sublime
Artistry creates, perfect rhyme
This treasure set in time
Most beautiful combination
This magnificent creation
Testament of devotion
Evokes amazing emotion
Bestowed, this incredible treasure
Brings about untold pleasure
Value, without measure
Diamond forever, ours to treasure
Feb 29, 2012
Feb 29, 2012 at 12:03 AM UTC
A night time blue
Playing tricks on my tongue
With the raspy echo
of breath,
Turning with my cheek and into
It's nose again.
A shallow hymn of loneliness
Satisfies my heavy head.
Heavy with a day's desire
Giving triumph to the night
For in the night,
I die again.
I close my eyes
My heavy eyes
Right to the end of time. But
As any time
It's time again
For might to open wide.
As each lash upon each lid
Had swollen arms
Outreached for decay,
A brightened abyss
Of rightfulness
Leaks forward to the day.
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 1:56 AM UTC
Some are silent with the longing desire to be perfect, whole with out sin. Others are loudly proclaiming and defaming the lord their creator, where have they been? To each their own journey is spent looking high and low for that which is under their nose deep within.
Searching, lurching forward to a new day, a new way to travel to the path beneath their feet while holding close to the chest all their fears covered by rightfulness and truth.
Still longing in silence the heart is flesh and the mind untrained , a train wreck for humans. I say tame the heart , bridle the mind, hold the tongue, knock and the door will be opened. In slumbers utopia remember to relax, breathe in the elixir of the silent desires intoxicated with in the lure for the lasting cure so pure ponder it you must.
Nov 12, 2010
Nov 12, 2010 at 4:28 AM UTC
When my father’s hands touch me
I could feel the spirits of the past
When my father’s hands embrace me
It feels like the whole world is hugging me back
My father’s hands are not soft
There you could find every drop of sweat
Because he earned his bread
By working and not lying
My father’s hands are not sinful
They hide the rightfulness
of everything he has done until now
My father’s hands have taught me
to love the freedom
My father’s hands have shown me
how to find the northern star
and that every way I took
could bring me back home
My father’s hands have taught me
To respect people by their efforts not their wealth
My father’s hands have taught me
To be honest and sincere
My father’s hands have taught me
To love the mornings
Because the day doesn’t start at noon
My father’s hands have taught me
To love the evening
Because every warrior needs his rest
My father’s hands gave me
My first allowance
My father’s hands gave me
My first lesson of life
My father’s hands were there
When I have made the first step
My father’s hands were
There when I first fall down
and every other time after that
And when I feel scared
I always look for my father’s hands
Because in my father’s hands
It’s the safest place to be
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 5:29 AM UTC
The buttons
Popped
As she pressed
Her lavender lips
Against those velvet
Diamond dogs,
Her swearing that
They were mine and
Mine only
Midnight - Once it
Passes through the cold -
Shows a color that
Only true men and
Women know
Ones wishing
To see
Their best
And their worst
Rightfulness
Royalty
Righteousness
These are
The things
The mighty forget
And the low
Crave
We billion new
**** on the dew
Of singing nightingales
Dressed all in blue
Each note of truth
Held
In Her song
Where all along
We thought we
Actually belonged
Son's being
Son's and father's
Holding the secret,
"There never
Was one," he moans.
Tears sink in
Sand scorched lands
By no hand
But man
All these
Unnumbered graveyards
Sphinxes whose
Riddles break
Your favorite cookie jar
Seeing
That all this is,
Is a thing - in our end - You
Grip with fear unlimited
The old
Say that
The Majesties hold
The ear of
One billion writhing
The writhing, as well,
Hold the minds
Of the Majesties
One and the same
None with no name
Some forgotten
All remembered
Where all and
One
Are the
Same
Miserable
Same.
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 5:30 PM UTC
I am petrified.
Locked in a closet.
A silent statue.
Immobile.
When I was little, I hated silence. I cannot recall why. But my mom told me she would sing me a lullaby until I fell asleep, put me in my crib and skitter out of the room without a sound. She would tiptoe to her room, slide under the blanket. On cue, I would cry.
I think, perhaps, silence was synonym of absence.
I was terrified she would forget about me.
I wish he would forget about me.
Walk away and never come back.
But I am trapped in a closet.
The key is in his hand.
I was hiding, but I was not the one who locked the door.
I was hiding while he was playing hide and seek.
The house it too small to hide for long.
He always finds me.
I am paralysed.
Locked in a closet.
A silent statue.
Shaking.
When I was little, I would not sleep unless my dad checked under the bed for any monsters. He would chase the nightmares away with a kiss and welcome my dreams with a smile. My dad was my dream keeper, and fulfilled his duties with rightfulness. When he was home.
My dad also was a synonym of absence.
I was frightened he would forget about me.
He would never forget about me.
He has a special power.
His eyes reminds me he does not forget.
About.
Me.
His voice reminds me he does not forget.
About.
Me.
His fists reminds me he does not forget.
About.
Me.
His smile reminds me he does not forget.
About.
Me.
His confident steps when he approaches reminds me he does not forget.
That I never move.
Away.
He can paralyse me with a simple look.
And then.
He.
Tosses me to the ground like a broken twig.
He is silence.
And I hate him.
He used to hide in the silence of my room, under my crib.
He used to laugh in the pauses of my breath.
His fingers would creep up the crib and peek through.
Grab and pinch and push and pull at my tender skin, my tender heart.
He is the monster my dad used to warn me about.
*He is silence and I want to scream
But
When I try to take a breath he suffocates me*
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 5:23 PM UTC
Let it happen good or bad
Never lose hope in HIM
If it's good, you deserve
If it's bad, you defeat
The one who knows both
Your rightfulness and strength
Never lose belief in HIM
In good times and bad times
When good is getting delayed
Something better is waiting
When bad is happening
Selecting someone capable to manage
Never ever lose hope in HIM
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 1:47 PM UTC
Andrew, my beloved Lion
Bring to me the Full Sorrow of Compassion
For the mantle of my heart
Walk as Royalty of Reverence for this coronation of bright End
Brave the dying candle of an old flame
With the Gift of Privacy for the Rightfulness of
Single Breath
Turn the mirror of witnessing from those I love most,
that the marks of unbearable are held back from the place of shame.
And the burn...........
Peace Star
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 12:38 AM UTC
i find myself climbing a ladder of sorts
up and up and up
unending
steps
constantly moving
but going
nowhere
why am i put on this ladder
is it the ladder of life?
death?
or is it just an imagined thing
i have chosen to prove
i am poetic?
because poetry always consists of a struggle
a struggle of life
of wanting
of being
of belonging
which i am none of the above
i've given up wanting
my being is already established
belonging?
i don't need to belong
actually
i loathe to belong
to anything
or anyone
so... why do i picture a ladder?
symbolic of an upward climb?
when all i want is to be grounded?
which i figure i AM
but maybe i am
NOT
o' befuddled mind of mine
what are you trying to tell me?
why must i climb this ladder
which undoubtedly offers a future to me
of vast openness and unending happiness?
when what i want
is assumedly right here with me now?
which leads me to question
should i question my vision
or accept it
as a vision of rightfulness
which stands to be unquestionably
true?
Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 8:42 PM UTC
To be Right or wrong?
is it not perspective or not?
Peers say I am brave,
through they do not
seem to be so!
I dare to be different,
and it is welcome,
though no-one is himself
different from what is,
expected from him.
Such is the way,
that man must reign
all expect change but
all remain constant!
Alas I must change,
to what I must be....
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 6:47 PM UTC
WHEN THOUGHTS ABOUT IT FLOW IN YOUR MIND PINGPONG,
AND YOU GET CONCERNED ABOUT GETTING IT WRONG,
ITS RIGHTFULNESS IS NOTHING BUT WAITING FOR YOU TO COME TOWARDS IT HEADLONG!
Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 11:43 AM UTC
Or
Someone
•
someone said
A great story
Is being written
""
( where ? )
&
( am I in it ? )
// //
& if not ?
My god I must be mad !!
//
Am I just
You know
Moping around
Staying outta trouble. !
Hanging out
In these tenement days
:/:
:/:
Perhaps it IS really so
Than the ONLY reality is Here
In the streets
) (
who knows
) (
quiet
quiet
Quiet everybody please
Settle down
Everybody needs some help
To play their part
In the total life of humanity
•
come
She who was enslaved
Is now free
& I know you know her name
•
Is their a MEANING TO THE STORY
( some high moral )
Who knows
::::
But there is a perfect feeling
Of Rightfulness
"
We are so good
So loving
So caring
"""
Trying to get done
Everything we should
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 11:18 PM UTC