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"safer" poems
199 I’m “wife”—I’ve finished that— That other state— I’m Czar—I’m “Woman” now— It’s safer so— How odd the Girl’s life looks Behind this soft Eclipse— I think that Earth feels so To folks in Heaven—now— This being comfort—then That other kind—was pain— But why compare? I’m “Wife”! Stop there!
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79k
I’m “wife”—I’ve finished that
Our love was a roller coaster. It had ups and downs and I sat real close to her. It had a real slow climb and a real quick drop. I screamed "faster" and she begged it to stop. I put up my hands and she held on tight. Not a second of boredom on our rickety flight. And when it came to a stop at that first safer place, I said, "Let's do it again," and she puked in my face.
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Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 4:57 PM UTC
Roller Coaster
I wish I were made of stone So your words would never hurt me I wish I were cold as ice Then maybe I wouldn't be lonely I wish I were made of steel So my strength would never waver If only I could turn back the clock To a time when I felt safer But I'm only flesh and bone And your words have left me bleeding My heart is torn apart It's a wonder it's still beating You made up your mind Given me your final answer What we shared is in the past Time to write a brand new chapter I will fix my broken heart Some how piece it back together It may never be the same It'll bare this scar forever But I'll be strong, I'll be alright Though I'm not as hard as steel And I can't turn back the clock In time....my heart will heal
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Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 9:48 AM UTC
In Time
Peeling away. Away from reality. Seeing things differently. From a slightly different angle. Like 2D world discovering 3D world. Ignorance. Safe in ignorance. Content in ignorance. Best not to know. Safer, limited. Tough enough as is! Mind blowing it be.
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Apr 4, 2019
Apr 4, 2019 at 7:18 AM UTC
Insanity
Never cook with a fairy tale omnibus open on a kitchen table, or confuse salt with sugar. Cherry-pit pies are like eating dragon bones, as to be expected of one taught to never cook with a fairy tale omnibus, safer to love a beast than to open up to strangers, precise butchers cutting hearts open on a kitchen table; I love you like salt, preach obedient daughters, omitting the ease to mix dream with wake or confuse salt with sugar.
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Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 4:15 PM UTC
Salt Dragon
I hate Science I hate Technology Neither Am I Orthodox Nor I am Fool I am not a ***** But still I choose to hate Science and Technology Both gave us many things I remember, there was a time I worshipped both of them They produced machines for us They produced robots for us Machines started building Homes, Bridges and Flyovers Machines helped us in Food and Cloth Production Milk and Silk Production And Blah Blah Blah Blah They made our life easier They made our life safer They provided better security They provided better tools They made our life longer They made our life smarter They gave us rays of hope They promised much more They promised more Freedom They Promised Leisure Time They promised better Environment They promised clean Air, Water, Soil They Promised Harmony and Peace They Promised Equality for All Both Science and Technology Progressed exponentially day by day But something went wrong Someone captured them Hijacked them and misused By applying their ***** minds We still have Machines and Robots We still have Logic and Skills But where is Freedom and Peace? Where is the clean Environment? Where is clean Water, Air and Soil? Where is the promised Leisure Time? Now we also have Nuclear Bombs We have weapons of mass ****** We have smart tools for our Extinction We have weapons of mass Destructions Robots are being transformed From Robots to Human Beings Humans are being transformed From Human Beings to Machines Yes Slavery is back in the Game Machines have enslaved Humans Robots have been granted Citizenship and Civil Rights Machines have been made ready Ready to wage war against humans The question is who is the culprit? Is it Science and Technology? No. Not at all. I know this very well But I still hate Science and Technology The real culprits are the hungry Capitalists Who captured, hijacked and misused Science and the Technology for their greed Though they have all the things they need Science and the Technology easily surrendered and allowed themselves to be used for their greed This is why I Hate Science and Technology I also hate Capitalism and Capitalists too But I have a big question for Myself. I still doubt - "Can I really live without Science and Technology"
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Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 8:02 AM UTC
I Hate Science And Technology
I hate Science I hate Technology Neither Am I Orthodox Nor I am Fool I am not a ***** But still I choose to hate Science and Technology Both gave us many things I remember, there was a time I worshipped both of them They produced machines for us They produced robots for us Machines started building Homes, Bridges and Flyovers Machines helped us in Food and Cloth Production Milk and Silk Production And Blah Blah Blah Blah They made our life easier They made our life safer They provided better security They provided better tools They made our life longer They made our life smarter They gave us rays of hope They promised much more They promised more Freedom They Promised Leisure Time They promised better Environment They promised clean Air, Water, Soil They Promised Harmony and Peace They Promised Equality for All Both Science and Technology Progressed exponentially day by day But something went wrong Someone captured them Hijacked them and misused By applying their ***** minds We still have Machines and Robots We still have Logic and Skills But where is Freedom and Peace? Where is the clean Environment? Where is clean Water, Air and Soil? Where is the promised Leisure Time? Now we also have Nuclear Bombs We have weapons of mass ****** We have smart tools for our Extinction We have weapons of mass Destructions Robots are being transformed From Robots to Human Beings Humans are being transformed From Human Beings to Machines Yes Slavery is back in the Game Machines have enslaved Humans Robots have been granted Citizenship and Civil Rights Machines have been made ready Ready to wage war against humans The question is who is the culprit? Is it Science and Technology? No. Not at all. I know this very well But I still hate Science and Technology The real culprits are the hungry Capitalists Who captured, hijacked and misused Science and the Technology for their greed Though they have all the things they need Science and the Technology easily surrendered and allowed themselves to be used for their greed This is why I Hate Science and Technology I also hate Capitalism and Capitalists too But I have a big question for Myself. I still doubt - "Can I really live without Science and Technology"
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72
And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year: “Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.” And he replied: “Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the Hand of God. That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way.” So I went forth, and finding the Hand of God, trod gladly into the night. And He led me towards the hills and the breaking of day in the lone East. So heart be still: What need our little life Our human life to know, If God hath comprehension? In all the dizzy strife Of things both high and low, God hideth His intention. God knows. His will Is best. The stretch of years Which wind ahead, so dim To our imperfect vision, Are clear to God. Our fears Are premature; In Him, All time hath full provision. Then rest: until God moves to lift the veil From our impatient eyes, When, as the sweeter features Of Life’s stern face we hail, Fair beyond all surmise God’s thought around His creatures Our mind shall fill.
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Dec 31, 2016
Dec 31, 2016 at 7:33 AM UTC
God Knows by M.L.Haskins (1908)
Before all of this, even after all of this, I will forever be a patriot. Before the poet in me matured and I started talking like a parrot, The dogs of war barked and I climbed exile's fence on my own And there I have dwelled, with nothing tangible to bring me down. I have been on this fence so long and I will remain there forever! Especially since the premature child is still in the incubator. From this vantage point, I have learned never to trust any politician I've always looked at them with mistrust, disdain, and suspicion, Before all of this  and before I ran and climbed the exile fence, I was once mercilessly flogged, dragged and made to dance By drugged up and coerced child soldiers with a rubber cable They tied and spread me like a dog on the market table I watched as innocent people were killed with a rusty knife There, I vowed to become a fence dweller for the rest of my life! I've been a patriot all my life but I have done it from here..safer. From here I have seen blood spilled, hearts broken, hopes dashed, progresses stalled, mullions embezzled, promises broken, lies told people changed, games played, party surfed, interests prioritized. And from this vantage point, I have learned never ever to trust any politician I have always been right...though I have looked on with disdain, suspicion, and operated with caution but through it all, I have remained a true patriot and a fence dweller. .✍️©️✍️IvanBrooksPoetry.✍️©️✍️
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Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 8:03 PM UTC
The Fence Dweller
I was born on November 30th , I hear that makes me a Saggitarius. I dunno what that means. I  know how to swim, and I'm a sucker for a guy with a nice smile And nice words. I'm still learning how to whisper sweet nothings I'm often loud at times when I should be quiet I'm often quiet at times when I should be loud I keep holding back or letting it all out at the wrong time. I like sweet drinks... a lot. I've been told that I give pretty bad hugs People say that it feels like I'm trying to escape Well I don't like letting people close. Especially close enough to hear me breathe. I have this odd fascination with things like time machines and technology, I assume it's because I like to figure out how things work and fix them. Am the same way with people, like to know what's coming before it does. Love usually lasts a few moments, That's also why I tend to fall in love with men Who would never love me back I know it sounds crazy, but it's actually much saner than it seems And to be honest, I think it's safer that way See relationships, they often remind me that I'm not afraid of letting go. But I'm scared of what's gonna happen The moment that my body hits the ground I'm clumsy. I usually trip when am following my feelings. I landed on my pride and it shattered like a mirror i check daily. Now I can't even tell who's trying to give me a compliment or just trying to get into my pants. I've never been into martial arts but I have all these bruises, I got from beating myself up over things I can't fix I know it sounds weird but sometimes, I wonder what the voices in my head say when am asleep. I wonder what the doors would do if they found out About all the things that I've done when they are closed. I've got a trash can that's overflowing with really, really obnoxious mistakes And a dump site in my closet with all the skeletons. You'll trap me in a corner and insist I get help. Hi, my name is Em, I enjoy ice cream and yoghurt, people watching And figuring out how to make them work. I allow myself to cry more than I need to, from letting all the wrong people in. I have solar-powered energy, I have a battery-operated heart, It flickers and dies from overuse. My hobbies include rewriting my life story, hiding behind poems, And trying to convince myself that I do matter to someone. I don't know much, but I do know this I know that if you don't have standards, you won't be treated right and be happy. I know God is still reworking my faults and flaws, I'm a unique work in progress.
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Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 6:15 AM UTC
My honest poem( inspired by Rudy Francisco)
I was born on November 30th , I hear that makes me a Saggitarius. I dunno what that means. I  know how to swim, and I'm a sucker for a guy with a nice smile And nice words. I'm still learning how to whisper sweet nothings I'm often loud at times when I should be quiet I'm often quiet at times when I should be loud I keep holding back or letting it all out at the wrong time. I like sweet drinks... a lot. I've been told that I give pretty bad hugs People say that it feels like I'm trying to escape Well I don't like letting people close. Especially close enough to hear me breathe. I have this odd fascination with things like time machines and technology, I assume it's because I like to figure out how things work and fix them. Am the same way with people, like to know what's coming before it does. Love usually lasts a few moments, That's also why I tend to fall in love with men Who would never love me back I know it sounds crazy, but it's actually much saner than it seems And to be honest, I think it's safer that way See relationships, they often remind me that I'm not afraid of letting go. But I'm scared of what's gonna happen The moment that my body hits the ground I'm clumsy. I usually trip when am following my feelings. I landed on my pride and it shattered like a mirror i check daily. Now I can't even tell who's trying to give me a compliment or just trying to get into my pants. I've never been into martial arts but I have all these bruises, I got from beating myself up over things I can't fix I know it sounds weird but sometimes, I wonder what the voices in my head say when am asleep. I wonder what the doors would do if they found out About all the things that I've done when they are closed. I've got a trash can that's overflowing with really, really obnoxious mistakes And a dump site in my closet with all the skeletons. You'll trap me in a corner and insist I get help. Hi, my name is Em, I enjoy ice cream and yoghurt, people watching And figuring out how to make them work. I allow myself to cry more than I need to, from letting all the wrong people in. I have solar-powered energy, I have a battery-operated heart, It flickers and dies from overuse. My hobbies include rewriting my life story, hiding behind poems, And trying to convince myself that I do matter to someone. I don't know much, but I do know this I know that if you don't have standards, you won't be treated right and be happy. I know God is still reworking my faults and flaws, I'm a unique work in progress.
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51
It's 3:09am I'm im the library Desperately trying to write a research paper: 'LGBT Familes' How fitting. Caffeine courses through my veins Coffee overloads my bladder Bathroom. I hate bathrooms. When you have no gender The simple act of relieving yourself becomes a chore The heavy weight of that key decision Chokes your lungs as you stand outside the doors Two doors. Men. Women. Not me. The choice becomes simplified: While I sometimes pass as a man I often do not. I can choose the men's bathroom The consequence of which could end in physical violence The same hate I explain through my essay. The same fear that plagues my community. The women's restroom is also an option The consequences likely less dire than the former: Heavy side eye and the potential of yelling. A much safer choice. Obviously. Per usual, I walk into the women's room. I take three strides inside. Then I stop. I've never used the men's room. My fear of violent reactions has always won. Yet at a time like this How likely is it that someone is inside the men's room? Now is my chance to face my fears. Now I have a safe chance at peeing in peace. In a bathroom potentially more suiting Of my gender identity So I turn around. Let the door slam behind me. Half a step into the men's room The smell of rancid ***** hits my senses Toilet paper liters the stalls I have missed absolutely nothing in my years in the women's room Women have nicer facilities A significantly more advanced hand dryer Cleanliness Air freshener Men do not have these luxuries Now I question, Do men not take as good of care of their bathrooms as women do? Do the workers intentionally prioritize women's sanitation? What causes this undeniable divide? Is the messiness of the men's room a result of their conscious decisions? Or simply a response to societal expectation? Regardless, I think I'll stick to the women's room While I add bathrooms to my compilation Of more discrete gender inequality
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Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 2:23 PM UTC
My First Time Using the Men's Bathroom
It's 3:09am I'm im the library Desperately trying to write a research paper: 'LGBT Familes' How fitting. Caffeine courses through my veins Coffee overloads my bladder Bathroom. I hate bathrooms. When you have no gender The simple act of relieving yourself becomes a chore The heavy weight of that key decision Chokes your lungs as you stand outside the doors Two doors. Men. Women. Not me. The choice becomes simplified: While I sometimes pass as a man I often do not. I can choose the men's bathroom The consequence of which could end in physical violence The same hate I explain through my essay. The same fear that plagues my community. The women's restroom is also an option The consequences likely less dire than the former: Heavy side eye and the potential of yelling. A much safer choice. Obviously. Per usual, I walk into the women's room. I take three strides inside. Then I stop. I've never used the men's room. My fear of violent reactions has always won. Yet at a time like this How likely is it that someone is inside the men's room? Now is my chance to face my fears. Now I have a safe chance at peeing in peace. In a bathroom potentially more suiting Of my gender identity So I turn around. Let the door slam behind me. Half a step into the men's room The smell of rancid ***** hits my senses Toilet paper liters the stalls I have missed absolutely nothing in my years in the women's room Women have nicer facilities A significantly more advanced hand dryer Cleanliness Air freshener Men do not have these luxuries Now I question, Do men not take as good of care of their bathrooms as women do? Do the workers intentionally prioritize women's sanitation? What causes this undeniable divide? Is the messiness of the men's room a result of their conscious decisions? Or simply a response to societal expectation? Regardless, I think I'll stick to the women's room While I add bathrooms to my compilation Of more discrete gender inequality
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61
He had his tongue in my mouth I was new to this and went along with it He layed me down I thought about my classmate in the front seat He moved his hands up too high I didn’t want to cause any drama He put his hands under my shirt I silently tried to push them away He was stronger than me I kept pushing his hands away He felt me up anyways I faked like I didn’t mind, while I smiled, tried to gently push him away, He stopped and said “please” I was silent At one point he also tried to put his hand down my jeans I pushed back harder than I’d done the first time. The classmate in the front took a video I looked like I was enjoying myself I wasn’t My friends saw it I felt sick People got mad at me for denying that I enjoyed it I wanted to cry My best friend didn’t believe me when I told him I was violated I remembered when he said he’d protect me Why didn’t you say no? I was in shock Why didn’t you get out of the car? He was on top of me He said “please” why didn’t you say No? I was scared of making him mad. Why didn’t you tell anyone? I didn’t want them to know Why didn’t you press charges? I just wanted the whole thing to go away Why did you pretend you were enjoying it if you weren’t? I was scared, in shock, I wasn’t thinking clearly, maybe I thought it was safer than him doing it by force. Why can’- I don’t need to answer your questions I was violated I don’t care if you agree or not Please Stop making me relive it
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Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 12:57 AM UTC
I was Molested
He had his tongue in my mouth I was new to this and went along with it He layed me down I thought about my classmate in the front seat He moved his hands up too high I didn’t want to cause any drama He put his hands under my shirt I silently tried to push them away He was stronger than me I kept pushing his hands away He felt me up anyways I faked like I didn’t mind, while I smiled, tried to gently push him away, He stopped and said “please” I was silent At one point he also tried to put his hand down my jeans I pushed back harder than I’d done the first time. The classmate in the front took a video I looked like I was enjoying myself I wasn’t My friends saw it I felt sick People got mad at me for denying that I enjoyed it I wanted to cry My best friend didn’t believe me when I told him I was violated I remembered when he said he’d protect me Why didn’t you say no? I was in shock Why didn’t you get out of the car? He was on top of me He said “please” why didn’t you say No? I was scared of making him mad. Why didn’t you tell anyone? I didn’t want them to know Why didn’t you press charges? I just wanted the whole thing to go away Why did you pretend you were enjoying it if you weren’t? I was scared, in shock, I wasn’t thinking clearly, maybe I thought it was safer than him doing it by force. Why can’- I don’t need to answer your questions I was violated I don’t care if you agree or not Please Stop making me relive it
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43
I recall from some time ago a pink plastic tea set a white plastic rocking chair and a yellow plastic pony with blue plastic hair,      which was impossible to untangle except for with the green plastic brush that belonged to my blonde barbie doll out of her plastic vanity cabinet beneath her plastic vanity mirror,      which she checked her makeup in before meeting her plastic boyfriend in his plastic van to go to a plastic diner that served plastic pizza,      which was really just a sticker on a tiny plastic plate that would get lost in the bottom of my plastic toybox,      which had a plastic lid that was also my sailboat that brought me to a plastic castle with a plastic princess who had the prettiest plastic eyes and the most elaborate plastic dress and the shiniest plastic crown,      which was the envy of all the plastic women in the entire plastic kingdom,      which was really just a plastic castle surrounded by an enchanted plastic forest filled with furry plastic creatures all atop a clear plastic box,      which held the plastic dishes and plastic glasses and plastic food in case a feast should be thrown for an unexpected plastic guest from a plastic kingdom in the far east,      which was really just a plastic plate placed on the plastic-coated windowsill,      from which I would peer into the blue sky through broken plastic binoculars while standing on a yellow and green plastic step stool,      which when turned upside down became not simply a make-shift plastic sailboat, but a glorious, luxury plastic cruise liner for my pretty plastic dolls      and I would board my toybox lid      and we would sail into a perfect plastic horizon      which was really just a white plastic baby gate that kept me from tumbling into the world downstairs where things are wooden and glass and cloth but not plastic for plastic is synthetic and plastic is superficial and plastic looks bad against gilded wallpaper but plastic is cheaper and plastic is safer and plastic is durable and childhood is plastic
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Mar 14, 2012
Mar 14, 2012 at 11:46 AM UTC
Plastic
I recall from some time ago a pink plastic tea set a white plastic rocking chair and a yellow plastic pony with blue plastic hair,      which was impossible to untangle except for with the green plastic brush that belonged to my blonde barbie doll out of her plastic vanity cabinet beneath her plastic vanity mirror,      which she checked her makeup in before meeting her plastic boyfriend in his plastic van to go to a plastic diner that served plastic pizza,      which was really just a sticker on a tiny plastic plate that would get lost in the bottom of my plastic toybox,      which had a plastic lid that was also my sailboat that brought me to a plastic castle with a plastic princess who had the prettiest plastic eyes and the most elaborate plastic dress and the shiniest plastic crown,      which was the envy of all the plastic women in the entire plastic kingdom,      which was really just a plastic castle surrounded by an enchanted plastic forest filled with furry plastic creatures all atop a clear plastic box,      which held the plastic dishes and plastic glasses and plastic food in case a feast should be thrown for an unexpected plastic guest from a plastic kingdom in the far east,      which was really just a plastic plate placed on the plastic-coated windowsill,      from which I would peer into the blue sky through broken plastic binoculars while standing on a yellow and green plastic step stool,      which when turned upside down became not simply a make-shift plastic sailboat, but a glorious, luxury plastic cruise liner for my pretty plastic dolls      and I would board my toybox lid      and we would sail into a perfect plastic horizon      which was really just a white plastic baby gate that kept me from tumbling into the world downstairs where things are wooden and glass and cloth but not plastic for plastic is synthetic and plastic is superficial and plastic looks bad against gilded wallpaper but plastic is cheaper and plastic is safer and plastic is durable and childhood is plastic
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75
*The dark sets in Her mind is calm, She sheds the skin Of social harm. Her heart beats slow Then picks up the pace, No longer below, Peculiar grace. A falling crown But safer now, A crippled heart, But not to drown. No more cries No tears of pain, Only joy And wild rain. She shuts her eyes And breaks away From all the lies, A diamond ray. No more burning In her soul, No more hurting, Lips unsewn. A beautiful aura Of dark and light, The night will fade Into the bright. Her heart lights up With ecstasy, Happy, although A tragic story. The true meaning Of being sad, Lips grinning, But not glad. A peek of sun rays Through the curtain, A blinding haze, A painful burden. She doesn't want The happy to end, But in the daylight She has to bend. Monstrous faces Without a smile, Hunger that chases Till the last dime. The day drags on, A hurting stab, Her life is a storm Without a God. No rainbow or sunshine In the light, But colours so vivid Through the night.*
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Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 11:42 AM UTC
Ecstasy
Carrying my truth. I stand by my views, watching through my weakening gaze. After a raging storm, making peace with myself, I vanish into the air, my convictions fold with me. Without simple answers, wearing the new lens, I see another world: not clearer, not wiser, not safer, … just slightly shifted.
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May 28, 2025
May 28, 2025 at 9:02 AM UTC
Lens
The cherry blossoms, pink and luscious, in full bloom. Below the koi fish swim round, round in circles. The sun reflects off silk kimonos with a shine radiant, dazzling, With red lips against painted white skin, blindingly beautiful. A walk like unraveling ribbon, And hair like ink, bound tightly a few strands bound for escape. Untouched skin tainted by stares, clipped wings useless for an escape, Freedom comes in the hope of riding a cherry blossom, swelling in bloom. The leaves swirl to the ground, spiraling in nature’s ribbon. The glares of tigers ********** her, kimono falling to her feet in circles, Eyes of blue, green, never turning away, trapping those beautiful, The nature of a hidden world, shaming and stunning, confining yet so dazzling. The snap of the gold-trimmed fan weaving in and out, dazzling The crowd with effortless twists and turns; clenched tightly, no room for escape. A dance of untamed water in a disturbingly beautiful Unity of desire and fright. A young bud not on the verge of bloom Thrown into a crowd of tigers to be spun in uncontrollable circles And entrapped by the unflinching gazes in silk ribbon. The game is simple: mesmerize a pack with grace of ribbon, Attend engagements that ask for a dance, tea pouring, but never dazzling That pure smile too brightly. Fool the ***** tigers to follow in circles, But never trust a tiger that promises a chance of escape. Never fall for love’s first bloom, Never become the next to lose the light. Stay pure and stay beautiful. A kimono is only as pure and as beautiful As the woman underneath. By cutting the ribbon Of virginity by a friendly lamb, instead of tiger’s bidding for the bloom, Only leads to the fall of a shooting star, gracing the sky with its dazzling Beauty, and the hope and wish of an everlasting escape Is crushed by the weight of a soapy rag, washing away the hope in circles. Though the pain of the cage binds the mind in endless circles, Though tigers ignored the aching backs and blistered feet, staring at only the beautiful, It is better, safer to stay in the hidden world, banishing all thoughts of an escape. Keep the tigers in a tight ribbon, Stay young, fresh, never letting the mind wander away from dazzling, And never fall like a cherry blossom after its first bloom. A walk like unraveling ribbon, The sun reflects off the silk kimono with a shine that never ceases from dazzling, And forever watching the cherry blossoms, pink and luscious, fall in full bloom.
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Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 2:08 PM UTC
The Geisha
The cherry blossoms, pink and luscious, in full bloom. Below the koi fish swim round, round in circles. The sun reflects off silk kimonos with a shine radiant, dazzling, With red lips against painted white skin, blindingly beautiful. A walk like unraveling ribbon, And hair like ink, bound tightly a few strands bound for escape. Untouched skin tainted by stares, clipped wings useless for an escape, Freedom comes in the hope of riding a cherry blossom, swelling in bloom. The leaves swirl to the ground, spiraling in nature’s ribbon. The glares of tigers ********** her, kimono falling to her feet in circles, Eyes of blue, green, never turning away, trapping those beautiful, The nature of a hidden world, shaming and stunning, confining yet so dazzling. The snap of the gold-trimmed fan weaving in and out, dazzling The crowd with effortless twists and turns; clenched tightly, no room for escape. A dance of untamed water in a disturbingly beautiful Unity of desire and fright. A young bud not on the verge of bloom Thrown into a crowd of tigers to be spun in uncontrollable circles And entrapped by the unflinching gazes in silk ribbon. The game is simple: mesmerize a pack with grace of ribbon, Attend engagements that ask for a dance, tea pouring, but never dazzling That pure smile too brightly. Fool the ***** tigers to follow in circles, But never trust a tiger that promises a chance of escape. Never fall for love’s first bloom, Never become the next to lose the light. Stay pure and stay beautiful. A kimono is only as pure and as beautiful As the woman underneath. By cutting the ribbon Of virginity by a friendly lamb, instead of tiger’s bidding for the bloom, Only leads to the fall of a shooting star, gracing the sky with its dazzling Beauty, and the hope and wish of an everlasting escape Is crushed by the weight of a soapy rag, washing away the hope in circles. Though the pain of the cage binds the mind in endless circles, Though tigers ignored the aching backs and blistered feet, staring at only the beautiful, It is better, safer to stay in the hidden world, banishing all thoughts of an escape. Keep the tigers in a tight ribbon, Stay young, fresh, never letting the mind wander away from dazzling, And never fall like a cherry blossom after its first bloom. A walk like unraveling ribbon, The sun reflects off the silk kimono with a shine that never ceases from dazzling, And forever watching the cherry blossoms, pink and luscious, fall in full bloom.
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39
Blink and a star is on its way to sleep, I'm standing so close to Jupiter, I can feel its winds sweep me off my feet, I'm an astronaut without a name, I'm an astronaut without a name. Consider this, I'm away on a cruise to Saturn's ring tonight. Consider this, The Sun's so far, it's so cold, I can't feel the light, You penetrate my gravity armour, You strike me with your black hole armada. Neptune looks so lonely at night, She longs for Venus but she's so far away, Four hours at the speed of light, But she's bound by the chains of gravity, She's bound by the chain's of gravity. Consider this, I'm a million asteroids left alone in the emptiness, Consider this, I reach out for the blue but I burn in the atmosphere, Your skies have set me on fire, Burning in the flames of your desire. The birth of a star painted in a supernova, The glowing halo of a mothership, Is all that was left over. They reach out for the sun, They reach out for the sun. Consider this, They don't have big black eyes like Mother told us. Consider this, They look like him and her we spoke to on the bus. But you flew your guns at them, You rushed your bombs at them. It was on the news that she brought down the aliens, They looked like me and you but she went after them, But nobody could be found on the ship that brought them here, The red lights on Mars they felt was safer than this fear, And yet she found one of them, The one who saved them all, The one who chose to stay, And take the fall. The unnamed astronaut. The unnamed astronaut.
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Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 5:52 AM UTC
Astronaut
Blink and a star is on its way to sleep, I'm standing so close to Jupiter, I can feel its winds sweep me off my feet, I'm an astronaut without a name, I'm an astronaut without a name. Consider this, I'm away on a cruise to Saturn's ring tonight. Consider this, The Sun's so far, it's so cold, I can't feel the light, You penetrate my gravity armour, You strike me with your black hole armada. Neptune looks so lonely at night, She longs for Venus but she's so far away, Four hours at the speed of light, But she's bound by the chains of gravity, She's bound by the chain's of gravity. Consider this, I'm a million asteroids left alone in the emptiness, Consider this, I reach out for the blue but I burn in the atmosphere, Your skies have set me on fire, Burning in the flames of your desire. The birth of a star painted in a supernova, The glowing halo of a mothership, Is all that was left over. They reach out for the sun, They reach out for the sun. Consider this, They don't have big black eyes like Mother told us. Consider this, They look like him and her we spoke to on the bus. But you flew your guns at them, You rushed your bombs at them. It was on the news that she brought down the aliens, They looked like me and you but she went after them, But nobody could be found on the ship that brought them here, The red lights on Mars they felt was safer than this fear, And yet she found one of them, The one who saved them all, The one who chose to stay, And take the fall. The unnamed astronaut. The unnamed astronaut.
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43
In life we tend build bridges But not all are meant to last Sometimes we burn those bridges To keep us from what lies beyond Everyday we meet new people Have fun and make new friends We form bonds and links; as such We end up building bridges Throughout our lives we go about Being scared - in fear But when we overcome the fear We grow - we build our bridges As time progresses - we age We move on to do so much We gain property and wealth And at this very stage Grow a family - get married And go about our lives Ease into reality And we tend to then build bridges All the time, things happen Positive and bad But we must overcome our problems And learn from our mistakes Take lessons from our failures Know we don't cause success And as we grow and learn And as we learn and grow We form more tightened, strengthened bonds We tend to build up bridges Memories are formed And memories are kept Stored in many forms To remembered for being great And as time passes us by It brings with memory As we add to vast memory We reinforce our bridge But not all stories flow Like that of a fairy tale In life we hurt and get hurt And ******* seems to break And when the key stones crack And are shifted out of place Our bridges looses and fall down And our lives with them And after all the pain is felt We pull ourselves back up And what remains after the storm - We burn what was our bridges People leave, people die These things occur in life Once they're gone, we break down And are burning our bridges Another reason why We burn down our bridges Is Friends who do us harm And it's safer if we're apart Instead of succumbing to evil deeds We rather stay away Refrain from any contact And set ablaze those bridges When trouble hits us hard We lose our wealth and money We hurt all those around Unintentionally burning bridges No memory can replace The presences of a loved one Instead of mourning forever And hurting others too We try our best to rid ourselves Of memories and reminders And as we force-forget The things of our past We end up sick of flames Yet still burn down our bridges In life we build and break Many weak/strong bridges Of a lifetime's worth of loved memories and people But this cannot be helped - it is but human nature - We build up what we love And burn it 'cause we love it
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May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 11:27 AM UTC
Burning Bridges
In life we tend build bridges But not all are meant to last Sometimes we burn those bridges To keep us from what lies beyond Everyday we meet new people Have fun and make new friends We form bonds and links; as such We end up building bridges Throughout our lives we go about Being scared - in fear But when we overcome the fear We grow - we build our bridges As time progresses - we age We move on to do so much We gain property and wealth And at this very stage Grow a family - get married And go about our lives Ease into reality And we tend to then build bridges All the time, things happen Positive and bad But we must overcome our problems And learn from our mistakes Take lessons from our failures Know we don't cause success And as we grow and learn And as we learn and grow We form more tightened, strengthened bonds We tend to build up bridges Memories are formed And memories are kept Stored in many forms To remembered for being great And as time passes us by It brings with memory As we add to vast memory We reinforce our bridge But not all stories flow Like that of a fairy tale In life we hurt and get hurt And ******* seems to break And when the key stones crack And are shifted out of place Our bridges looses and fall down And our lives with them And after all the pain is felt We pull ourselves back up And what remains after the storm - We burn what was our bridges People leave, people die These things occur in life Once they're gone, we break down And are burning our bridges Another reason why We burn down our bridges Is Friends who do us harm And it's safer if we're apart Instead of succumbing to evil deeds We rather stay away Refrain from any contact And set ablaze those bridges When trouble hits us hard We lose our wealth and money We hurt all those around Unintentionally burning bridges No memory can replace The presences of a loved one Instead of mourning forever And hurting others too We try our best to rid ourselves Of memories and reminders And as we force-forget The things of our past We end up sick of flames Yet still burn down our bridges In life we build and break Many weak/strong bridges Of a lifetime's worth of loved memories and people But this cannot be helped - it is but human nature - We build up what we love And burn it 'cause we love it
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84
you can't make a flower grow by telling it you love it, by telling it it's beautiful. a flower will continue to wither away, even if you keep saying "I'm here for you." when winter comes and the flower begins to die, telling the flower "it gets better" won't warm the temperature. don't try to nurture a flower you picked. it will never be safer in your hands, than it was in the grass. flowers will dry when you rip them from the roots. don't look at a brown flower, and ask it "whats wrong". it wouldn't tell you even if it could talk. don't lie to the flower and say "its going to be okay" because you put it in a vase. the flower knows its not the same. don't bother saying "you're not alone" because flowers die all the time, it already knows. the flower is still on its own. you can't glue the petals back on, after you've plucked them all for a game. she probably doesn't love you, and the flower is not to blame. you can't straighten out the stem, after you've stepped on it in passing. it will always be bent even if you repent. "i didn't mean to" means nothing to a flower after you leave it in the dark. it doesn't matter what you've said, the flower is already dead. a withered and dry flower, will not stand up and turn green just because you love it. these things are simple facts, its how nature works, and nature will never love you back. i know you're really trying, and doing everything you can. but without water and sun, the flower will keep dying.
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Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 1:52 AM UTC
My Middle Name Is Rose
There is a forest, Somewhere around; Nowhere. And in this forest on a barren patch. Is a cottage. On one side of the cottage there is a field, That burns through night and day. On the other side is a river, Where it rains from dusk till dawn. In this small cottage, Lives a poet and his two pets. One a Raven; as black as night. One a Phoenix; burning brighter then light. They fight and tease each other. But although the Phoenix is stronger The Raven always gets the better of him. So the Phoenix rages on. Every night, the house catches on fire, And the field of fire consumes the house. Causing the fire to grow stronger. And spread through the forest even more. But at 4 am in the morning, The raven flies up to the moon, And commands the winds and waters, To put the fire out of the cottage. Every morning, The poet re builds the right side of the house. Making sure the next fire, Wont be as damaging. But one day, The phoenix turned from a fiery red, To a midnight blue, And burned not only the house, but the whole forest. The river went dry, The forest turned to ask, The poet could not re build. And the Raven had no water or wind to call. The poet had to go else where. But could only take one pet. And although the phoenix burned brighter, The darkness of the raven seemed safer. The phoenix was enraged, He became one with the burning forest. He rose up to the sky, And promised to reign heavily on them with ***** of fire. The raven protected the poet, And called on to the night, And with one strong swing of her wings She blew out the fire that consumed the phoenix and the forest. Out of the ash, The poet could re build nothing, But the Raven offered him protection, Under her dark wings. In darkest of nights, He was protected buy the calmest. In the heat of the fire, He feared to burn out and cease to be.
0
Jan 16, 2019
Jan 16, 2019 at 7:44 AM UTC
The Phoenix and the Raven
There is a forest, Somewhere around; Nowhere. And in this forest on a barren patch. Is a cottage. On one side of the cottage there is a field, That burns through night and day. On the other side is a river, Where it rains from dusk till dawn. In this small cottage, Lives a poet and his two pets. One a Raven; as black as night. One a Phoenix; burning brighter then light. They fight and tease each other. But although the Phoenix is stronger The Raven always gets the better of him. So the Phoenix rages on. Every night, the house catches on fire, And the field of fire consumes the house. Causing the fire to grow stronger. And spread through the forest even more. But at 4 am in the morning, The raven flies up to the moon, And commands the winds and waters, To put the fire out of the cottage. Every morning, The poet re builds the right side of the house. Making sure the next fire, Wont be as damaging. But one day, The phoenix turned from a fiery red, To a midnight blue, And burned not only the house, but the whole forest. The river went dry, The forest turned to ask, The poet could not re build. And the Raven had no water or wind to call. The poet had to go else where. But could only take one pet. And although the phoenix burned brighter, The darkness of the raven seemed safer. The phoenix was enraged, He became one with the burning forest. He rose up to the sky, And promised to reign heavily on them with ***** of fire. The raven protected the poet, And called on to the night, And with one strong swing of her wings She blew out the fire that consumed the phoenix and the forest. Out of the ash, The poet could re build nothing, But the Raven offered him protection, Under her dark wings. In darkest of nights, He was protected buy the calmest. In the heat of the fire, He feared to burn out and cease to be.
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56
Till Few Months Of Reaching Back, I Kept Seeing Her Images All Over, It Drove Me Crazy, Her Presence... Taking Time Out To Search Her Out, I Went For The Mountainous Path, It May Cease I Hope These Dreams. The Horse Made Me Look A Knight, I Set Out Solo For The Dark Creeks, It Helped Me Realize My Solo Aim... Then She Came Into My View Again, I Was Prepared For Tackling My Illusion, It Started Snowing Out Of Nowhere. Took Me To A Safer Place She Then, I Was Bewildered Again Once More, It Was Clearing But She Vanished... Then On My Way I Stopped To Rest, I Looked Around For A Place To Sit, It Came To My View A Huge Tavern. Tavern On A Mountain Was Weird, I Still Went To It Hoping Some Rest, It Had Appeared Out Of Nowhere...
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Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 10:28 AM UTC
Angel Surely?
A fly stuck in a spider's web gives a buzzing distress call Too entangled for to fly free and too powerless for to crawl Unto a safer surface for it no get away The sleeky black house spider rushes forth and grabs it's prey. It can't escape the spider's fangs no matter how it try Perhaps it is a natural death for the common blow fly Many of it's kind have a more painful end they linger for a day After inhaling the poison fumes when hit by the fly spray. For the hungry spider a nice meal it's appetite to satisfy It may have to wait another day or two for to catch another fly Of the flies that fly into it's web perhaps two out of three Seem to cheat death in the nick of time by somehow struggling free. The fly cannot escape the spider's grasp today the hunter eat And to it's taste buds a sleek blow fly makes for a tasty treat The laws of Nature apply to all of life even to you and I And for the spider for to live the blow fly had to die.
0
Apr 25, 2010
Apr 25, 2010 at 5:15 PM UTC
A Fly Stuck In A Spider's Web
I think about the face of a woman and her smooth skin soft lips the curvature of the Earth is kin to her hips I feel humanity suffering needlessly beneath her cells as I wander her valleys and sand-dune hills she is the beach the ocean the calling of many gulls screaming for food and I love her white ******* But she is sneaky and cares for me caressing is painful I see it in my own eyes the next day when the smudgy bruises flit across my reflection But men understand without either of us speaking a **** word we drive we shout we catcall we game the music takes us and we run for days doing nothing anything and i guess sometimes we **** Succinct and supernatural Brawn or brown skin or bright ideas gone awry always a good day with the gang or the bros I feel safer in the hoods I want her to notice me, and to shyly skip over like she did last week i want to kiss her neck and pull back soon enough to catch her half-lidded gaze into the abyss behind me I want to wear boxers and treat her to fancy dinners But I want to be her I want taste a mustache I want to be lifted overhead like a little sister and brought back to the earth with sweet exploration Impossibility I want women and men to be the same thing
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Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 1:44 AM UTC
I get upset
An abstract of an academic paper written by a doctoral student: "In this semimanifesto, I approach how understandings of quantum physics and cyborgian bodies can (or always already do) ally with feminist anti-oppression practices long in use. The idea of the body (whether biological, social, or of work) is not stagnant, and new materialist feminisms help to recognize how multiple phenomena work together to behave in what can become legible at any given moment as a body. By utilizing the materiality of conceptions about connectivity often thought to be merely theoretical, by taking a critical look at the noncentralized and multiple movements of quantum physics, and by dehierarchizing the necessity of linear bodies through time, it becomes possible to reconfigure structures of value, longevity, and subjectivity in ways explicitly aligned with anti-oppression practices and identity politics. Combining intersectionality and quantum physics can provide for differing perspectives on organizing practices long used by marginalized people, for enabling apparatuses that allow for new possibilities of safer spaces, and for practices of accountability."--an abstract of a paper by doctoral student Whitney Stark Atomic particles, how can it be so that your purpose is not just to flow in and out of existence, building reality-- the stars, cosmic gas and galaxies-- but to “ally” with groups of humans fighting “hierarchies” and demanding “safe spaces” (even though their entire race is at the top of their planet’s food chain). In this mysterious universe there is no safety, accountability or identity, only elements, and energy. Brief combinations make life legible for a nanosecond in cosmic time, and doomed to strife. Biology does not know oppression, only generation, reproduction, until our growth chokes us and we fall like so many of our ancestors, who lived and died on this blue-green ball. And one day the sun will explode and blow even our atoms, which have endured (despite oppression), and the particles will go far until maybe they sow new life, in bodies unfamiliar, on planets unknown.
0
Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 9:31 AM UTC
The Universe v. Ideology
An abstract of an academic paper written by a doctoral student: "In this semimanifesto, I approach how understandings of quantum physics and cyborgian bodies can (or always already do) ally with feminist anti-oppression practices long in use. The idea of the body (whether biological, social, or of work) is not stagnant, and new materialist feminisms help to recognize how multiple phenomena work together to behave in what can become legible at any given moment as a body. By utilizing the materiality of conceptions about connectivity often thought to be merely theoretical, by taking a critical look at the noncentralized and multiple movements of quantum physics, and by dehierarchizing the necessity of linear bodies through time, it becomes possible to reconfigure structures of value, longevity, and subjectivity in ways explicitly aligned with anti-oppression practices and identity politics. Combining intersectionality and quantum physics can provide for differing perspectives on organizing practices long used by marginalized people, for enabling apparatuses that allow for new possibilities of safer spaces, and for practices of accountability."--an abstract of a paper by doctoral student Whitney Stark Atomic particles, how can it be so that your purpose is not just to flow in and out of existence, building reality-- the stars, cosmic gas and galaxies-- but to “ally” with groups of humans fighting “hierarchies” and demanding “safe spaces” (even though their entire race is at the top of their planet’s food chain). In this mysterious universe there is no safety, accountability or identity, only elements, and energy. Brief combinations make life legible for a nanosecond in cosmic time, and doomed to strife. Biology does not know oppression, only generation, reproduction, until our growth chokes us and we fall like so many of our ancestors, who lived and died on this blue-green ball. And one day the sun will explode and blow even our atoms, which have endured (despite oppression), and the particles will go far until maybe they sow new life, in bodies unfamiliar, on planets unknown.
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23
My sisters and I jest That men never get over us. We have been named Muses, angels, succubi, leanan sidhe But we are les belles dames avec merci And that is their undoing. Our breath has left them gasping With unfilled lungs We never meant to be their oxygen But they drink us in like drowning men. We didn’t ask for this, But disarming, we are soft enough For them to float in Belly up, eyes to distant stars Singing the sirens song that stirs in our veins. Behind our teeth rests the love The world has failed to give them till now There are holds in the knowledge that our fingertips find the hollowed spaces, mother wounds, clefts where trust was carved out, And they clutch our palms to staunch the bleeding. We never asked for this, They cherish the brittle changelings of us until they are crushed in the coals of our eyes Eggshell ideals, fragile as egos. Blown by the sea wind in the strands of our hair they are scattered, undone. The distance drifts between, inevitable And full they turn away to starve We cut the mooring line After one too many storms, And search For safer Harbor.
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Sep 29, 2021
Sep 29, 2021 at 9:54 AM UTC
Weird Sisters