"rought" poems
Trought these rought and cracked sreet.
Seems to remind me of life strugles and dispares.
But just like my skateboard that keeps going foward with every push I take.
I see know that no matter how big a problem, you got to keep pushing.
For the road is everlasting, but its time we dont have so just keep
Pushing.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC
Sailors we're not, but here our souls roam
Beneath the cold seas, and the waves and the foam
We inherit the depths of the oceans and sea
Never to know of just what we could be
We are the dead, lying down in the dark
Our stories forgotten, our history stark
We're not in one place, we live where we went down
Not a monument stands for most in our towns
We went down in rought seas, in a storm or a battle
We died taking a trip or transporting our cattle
There's as many of us as there are in the earth
We've been taken at sea, since man first did give birth
Our souls walk the floor of the deepest dark places
No one knows who we are, not our names or our faces
We ended our lives on ships , sloops and on ketches
We are the dead, some rich, some poor wretches
We never will age, never again will see light
We're still waiting for more to join us in the night
The seas give us life and they take just as fast
It's a tomb for us all, it's where our breaths were our last
Unsinkable ships...fifteen hundred or more
Lost their lives to the ice just like many before
The water cares not, your soul's there to take
Whether ocean or sea, or on river or lake
We walk in the depths, beneath the lighthouse and rocks
Our home is the cold, down below all the docks
We lie just off the shore, we died within reach
Some of us drowned just a bit from the beach
The sea's a cruel master, it owns all who sail
It cares not one bit, who you are or your tale
Stories mean nothing to those down below
For when it is time, to the locker you'll go
We died fighting pirates, we gave up our lives
We left our young children, our husbands and wives
From the Cape of Good Hope to the cold northern seas
Where we were still alive as our bodies did freeze
In the Indian Ocean and off the Newfoundland coast
Some nights you might see us, in the fog...just a ghost
We're the ones who inhabit the dark of the seas
When you hear the wind howling, you are hearing our pleas
Don't forget who we were, when we lived and we died
Please remember the families who broke down and did cry
There are fish in the ocean, but we live here too
We're the lost souls of people who died on the blue
Sailors we're not, but the water's our home
Down in the dark waters beneath the waves and the foam.
Apr 29, 2012
Apr 29, 2012 at 9:48 AM UTC
Am I in Love?
At night, laying sleepless,
I bemoan the treacheries of life
with my love
and appreciation....
And though,
in my dark,
and cavernous foundations;
Roar the pillars of stone,
and shake them.
Waked,
by curiosity,
and interest,
I stare intently at you,
and though I cannot see,
You are there.
Tangible,
by my creativity,
and invisible,
by my negativity.
And through the secret game
that to many, has forbidden name
we speak.
Fear,
and pride,
my greatest hatreds,
now run through me,
though the game of
Predator, and Prey.
I am the prey,
of myself,
in the black vapors
of my confusion,
you two rought me
with confusion
elaborate,
and woe,
despicable.
My thoughts now strand
off into many divisions,
all joining together,
to reveal my fear,
of disappointing you.
The thing we connect through bings,
and so we remain in contact, it seems.
But ever, we thought beautiful
I am marred, and proved untruthful.
You do not deserve me,
but somehow
in this void-feeling heart of mine,
I sense you care.
I care.
Am i in love?
My Mind craves you,
and I put much emphasis on that,
for that, might,
just might,
be my undoing.
Should I look to the East,
to find you, riding, in
shining, and metallic armor,
And see only dust clouds
roam aimlessly from North to South.
But I hear banners, in the West,
all risen high,
as high hopes,
and high spirits,
to guide them.
This, is what I've waited for,
for years,
as do we all.
But my misinterpretations,
now lead the banners,
with silver swords,
bearing the name of hate.
with this,
I deserve only
to lay my head down,
lamely, for you to hew it
from me, and call it,
Victory.
This, I forsee,
this unsensible
and crazed
sight,
that passes through me,
and guides me
to all darker paths of light.
So that I may be dimmed,
and in a cycle refrained,
I should, as a doomsayer,
say my doom,
and I, as a fool,
should subconciously make that true.
This is what I see.
I fear, for you,
and fear,
for me.
I burden all, though a child
and my will is heavy, upon you,
and wild, is my desires
and should you penetrate my curtains,
you should see,
the cold bitterness, of my truth.
But all the while,
mind and soul crave you,
and body revives,
slowly,
but surely.
I sense love,
and my stomach churns,
knowing I shall hang my head
in Guilt.
Am I In Love?
Jul 10, 2010
Jul 10, 2010 at 3:26 PM UTC
nothing is above what we think
because the perception of reality
is what's thought
nothing is above what we own
because the perception of success
is what's bought
nothing is above what we find
because the perception of fortune
is what's caught
nothing is above what we see
because the perception of distance
is what's short
nothing is above what we want
because the perception of desire
is what's rought
nothing is above what we are
because the perception of selfless
is what's taught
nothing is above my intention
because your perception
of what it is that i do
doesn't make sense to me at all
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 12:18 PM UTC
it's almost like saying:
atheism
and theism, or deism
or whatever.
it's rought comparison,
but that's the best i could ever hope
to allude to...
concerning the aye, eye, i...
oko: eye,
okno: window
oczko:
a little eye, typically
of a baby;
judasz / judas: the peeping hole
in your front door.
bilingualism is like
a mongolian horde in terms
of etymological
"struggles", i.e. introspections...
i can't even begin the platonic
assertion of form-morphing
that's translated into
darwinism of
monkey into an ape...
as someone who's into artistotle more
than into plato, because he's more
into shakespeare's dialogues than plato's...
i don't buy the platonic crap
in darwinism...
it would be, perfect,
if we were all reduced to monkey form,
and picked out one type of monkey
as our origins...
what, ******* point, would,
a shit-brick sized gorilla ever need to evolve?
a gorilla that could wrestle a tiger
and pin him to the floor, while breaking his jaw?
the **** is this?!
or right... choose a chimp...
but not a macaque monkey...
i'll just do what atheist
youtubers do... in terms of language:
******* imbecile!
pointless platonic imbeciles!
darwinism = platonism...
god, in the now, now, now...
now i should be exhibit (c) in a zoo...
or playing that ******* wormhole of a game
that's the sims...
eugenics didn't move it far along
the argument scale, that we needed
to play "god" while playing the sims...
there's nothing worth an aristotle in the framework
of darwinism...
darwinism is platonic...
it arises from the head, and the abstract,
rather than on the basis of the senses,
that said:
as one hindu guru said:
why aren't there more monkeys evolving,
turning into neanderthals?
the more atheists call others ********
we'll be swimming ad infinitum ad nauseam
in circles, concerning ourselves with
arguments, that... well...
are best summarised by a cat's
meow of concern for
the arguments in themselves...
bo'h- -ring!
oh look, retards either direction;
if that's what humanism has come down to...
seriously... if i were a gorilla... why would
i want to devolve?
so i can be subordinate
to beta-males' taxation rules of governing me?
punch the ******* in the face, and move on...
to me, aristotle would have rejected darwinism,
but plato? ooh hoo hoo... he'd be darwin's first disciple;
******* ponces.
don't bother questioning whether
poetry requires objectivity...
it's a non-objective form of expression...
as it was never supposed to be...
take your 1 + 1 = 2 elsewhere, and ponder it there.
Jun 16, 2017
Jun 16, 2017 at 8:53 PM UTC
I like being alone
Sometimes,
When I like pretending
It doesn´t bother me that much.
Then I thought
''Hey, the world is a telly
And I have the remote control.''
But that thought vanished as I looked outside
At the icy kingdom of winter
And the rought whispers of cold wind
Told me I´m stuck here.
Yet maybe this is just a phase,
A way of the nature forcing me
To live alone for a little while...
I don´t know, and maybe I´ll never find out.
But I do know that once you´ll be back
It will all go away.
I don´t know if it´s gonna be because
I´ll magically conquer all my fears and insecurities,
Magically forget and ignore all my urges to be out there,
Somewhere else where something usual can surprise me.
Or if I´ll just settle my mind
And concentrate on our love, our life, our routine.
I don´t know, no matter how many times you´ll ask me.
Maybe you can tell me
Or at least teach me how to listen to my mind and heart.
I hear them speaking out loud,
Screaming sometimes in the night
But it´s all gibberish to me.
Find me a path
Give me a pair of legs
Teach me how to walk
And I´ll make history.
But until you can find me all these things
Don´t be surprised if I´ll sit here forever
Because God knows I can´t help myself.
Yes, I think I´m being unreasonable too.
DC, 2017
Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 9:34 AM UTC
I clutch my chest as the blood
Flows from my open veins.
Nothing can release me from these
Unbreakable chains.
I glance down to the growing pool
Of scarlet around my feet,
I should have known we could never
Make ends meet.
The gruesome memories haunt
My every thought,
Along with the unsettled wars
I constantly fought.
There was no excitement, no glory.
My life is coming to an end
As I tell you my story.
I drop to my knees in the object that
Rought me life,
And remember the need to
End it with that taunting knife.
I scream out in pleasure at the thought
Of my pain ending here,
The sweetness of death is all so clear.
I fall forward to my awaiting death,
No one will hear my last dieing breath.
I learn a final lesson before
The blackness engulfs my soul,
No one really knows when they will become whole.
May 27, 2010
May 27, 2010 at 1:21 PM UTC
weak willed, i listen to the collision of manic thoughts that resurface like a neverending disease whenever you are mentioned.
blue..
the whirl of memorys start, and in the mass hysteria of mental chaos i feel my fingers slip over the keys to write to you. of what is not important. simply a few meaningless words will set me up above the clouds in a serene distant state. the promise of that momentary bliss is enough to keep my reasonable side hidden away... she'll come out later, and when she comes so will the negative ideas. the "why did i say thats", and "what is he thinkings" all of which will riot through the clouds ripping them apart until i fall and smash back into newly cold reality.
of course by then the conversation will have ended and i wont know what you think of the crazed words i somehow managed to smash into thoughts that sounded like sentences at the time, but now look like the disasterous scribbled rought draft of a 5th grade report over an unknown topic.
so with the last of my resolve i hold down the backspace key until all of the mangled writing is gone. you of course have no knowledge of this inner turmoil because i never hit enter.. i tell myself thats for the best but im not sure if i believe that, then again if you lie to yourself long enough you can believe anything. so why not, it's only survival..
Nov 5, 2011
Nov 5, 2011 at 12:50 PM UTC
cur f w d dis and p
A sed iend rought eath ease ain
bles fr b br and ag
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 5:05 PM UTC
The un-organized, nicht dis
*****
ized me, with more brain cells in my soft belly than in my
amyg-dali-esque ambit-hibation station
broad casting on all waves twisting in ever from here.
Here i have ever been since ever was a thought,
and this is what you got.
Give it a try, not my will, but thine been done,
and this is what that answered prayer
became, today,
after the sufficiency of evil
were
swept away with the same besom which swept witches
to pyres,
back in the day, they say... we were born after those
lies had been thourough, rought, right thought wrong.
Fixin´ an'fittin'for most folk, same same
in forming a way around the dam thing, holding
certain truth from truce sake.
If Paul Rivere had writ this in silver,
you would never know,
but i wrote it in light, on your window to your soul,
and you read it, or not. Ig ig ig nor nominy anomoly night
right is a reason, for other wise pro
vocative
vagus nervous knowing, oh, my god, is this true
this system, is mapped
on a baseball,
stitches and horse hide and all? Yen, curiosity-ifty
boo, do you know
we are
wasted if we missed our call to be other wise and ended as
this wise and not that. Up or down, depends who looks.
If a cannabinoid system did not exist, I would suggest we invent it.
Apr 17, 2020
Apr 17, 2020 at 11:13 PM UTC
. cur f w d dis and p
A sed iend rought eath ease ain.
bles fr b br and ag
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 9:12 AM UTC
When you look at me with those eyes
What do you expect?!
Do you expect sadness?!
Or regret?! Or even anger?!
When you look at me with those eyes
Expect nothing but the purest happiness
Mankind has ever seen!
When you smile at me with that joy
What do you expect?!
That I keep being who I am?!
That depression keeps on hitting me?!
When you smile at me with that joy
There is no more sadness on my mind
There are no more rought thoughts!
When you look at me with those eyes...
When you smile at me with that joy...
My love for you takes all of my mind
And all I can think of it’s you!
Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 5:24 PM UTC
Your love is rought nothing you have done will every be good your words your love is buring scares onto my flesh when you hid from me. Word will never be enought to show you the pain i suffer nothing will ever be able to show you the world i live in. Hell is where i live like blads sliceing your souls away. Your love is like a gun you pulled the trigger shooting me in the heart. Theres nothing left there nothing even worth saving when im gone. When i walk this earth i will whow you my world i live and see. But there now point of showing you bc you will never understand me till the day we split away from the truth of you killing me
Jul 8, 2018
Jul 8, 2018 at 4:10 PM UTC
what little garamble
of smirtin accors this
off the page miramble
sossin and ossinn rought
ime an lessin aim aim so
Sep 3, 2022
Sep 3, 2022 at 12:01 AM UTC
Now we have reached the end of the Kaliyuga era.
We are trapped in the culmination of darkness.
The rotten dregs of lawamah , supiah and muamarah.
All of which are gnawing away fiercely.
Extinguishing the light in the world.
Now we must fight to save ourselves.
Bringing our light to the beginning of the radiant Satyayuga era.
Unfortunately the transition we have to go through is very rough.
Too rough for our weak and exhausted selves.
But we have no choice but to force ourselves.
We need miracles but it doesn't happen overnight.
Miracles will continue to process as we go through the rough transition.
Since Pluto returned to Aquarius we understand that we are part of what creates miracles.
We become the rushing flood waters.
Clearing away any rotten dregs that get in our way to reach the Satyayuga era.
December 2024
By Alvian Eleven
Dec 19, 2024
Dec 19, 2024 at 12:00 PM UTC