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"slowy" poems
It was a lovely afternoon When I felt dizzy and soon Started to feel as if my chair's moving I looked up at the pendant hanging Freely and also dancing Back and forth It wasn't just me who was moved It was the earth and the whole building hoofed Back and forth One slip of plate And it moved the whole earth. It was mild I hoped it won't go wild Calling for my loved ones I ran to the ground People hustling, steps making a panic sound From the eighth floor I felt it stopped But as if it read my mind, earth again rocked More than I've ever felt before We all hustled downstairs in case it got wilder more Old people, children running, Mothers, scared, panicked, scooting. Down the building everyone waited Till the earth slowy bated And stopped in a sudden motion We were glad it wasn't that strong Back to home, we all scurried Switched on our televisions in a hurry. Though the earth was soft on us There were places where everything was crushed, Homes, offices, families destroyed Everything because of simple but strong Back and forth What is happening in the world? Is it the human being which the earth loaths?
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Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 5:40 AM UTC
Earthquake
Fall is like death. Like bipolar. You gradually fade away, then you are completely gone. Falling! Swaying in the wind, as you hit the ground. Brittle. Easy to crumble. Dying! Your colors use to be so bright, so vibrant, and alive. Joyous! Then... Your colors begin to fade. One by one. Reds, Oranges, Yellows, then browns... Your life is now dull, brittle, fragile, and dead... like the colors of the leaves. Face it, you are dying inside. Fading away. Piece by piece. You eventually, come back. Slowy begin to grow, and get your color. Your vibrant colors... You feel on top of the world, for a short while. But... All it takes, is that down state, to go crumbling, to the ground again. To die, and fade away....
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May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 10:17 AM UTC
Fade Away - (Bipolar Awareness)
So early this Sunday morning. Birds are singing. Big church bells I hear ringing. My bed feels so cozy. Pull my blanket over my shoulder. Turn around before I get colder. Love this slowy waking up. Drink my coffee while it's nice and hot. The sun is shining through my window. Shines and give my skin such a warm glow. Time will pass along the way. Wishing you all a sunny Sunday.
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Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 3:46 AM UTC
Sunny Sunday
The country road like  poet’s fancies unravels Through the   giant hanky- sized paddy fields And  the dream  sized ponds Dotting  the landscape in perfect  squires and riots of skewed and regular shapes The green spread and the muddy beds, spell the village beauty. Parrot green fields And  stark blue skies  look at each other In perfect silence, like mother and babe And a   great , grey house  exposing its ragged bricks, Bared like  the buck tooth of the old Provokes a  village memory Past picking itself slowy and ambling into the future Its wooden columns stand like mute exclamation marks! or so it may look to me. Flies  the  skidding scaly tarred  snake   Fast and spreading like the traveler travelling on it. Patchy it looks, now;   And  full like the  misery  of the scorned lover Eager like  the  maiden speech of a parlimentarian   The country road, runs fluid like a stream after the rains. As the rustle of the engine   trips and   falls into the  divine  air. A  roaming peacock calling adds  charm to the great whole fare A winged beauty, struts across Nudged by the sputtering , speeding me. The exotic avian   attains the hedges galore With its   metal blue  feathery strangeness blurred in my glancing eye A species rare, found only in ornithologists diary. A  clamour in the  air And the   school boys emerge in buddy pairs Beneath the village banyan That let loose its tresses to dry like a country maid. I see, a promising glint in their eyes The will make themselves of king and ministers of the modern days The  sonority of ringing bell   clubs the cacophony of school boys in into two dead parts. They return to their classes, sanctified by the silence, And open their minds to the feminine vocie. A Glorious moment , As the  morn of wisdom is born Rich are the sightings of poor country side And many are the mappings on the way, My sensibilities recouped, I drove back not spent But profound. sound.
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Sep 13, 2010
Sep 13, 2010 at 5:15 AM UTC
The country side
The country road like  poet’s fancies unravels Through the   giant hanky- sized paddy fields And  the dream  sized ponds Dotting  the landscape in perfect  squires and riots of skewed and regular shapes The green spread and the muddy beds, spell the village beauty. Parrot green fields And  stark blue skies  look at each other In perfect silence, like mother and babe And a   great , grey house  exposing its ragged bricks, Bared like  the buck tooth of the old Provokes a  village memory Past picking itself slowy and ambling into the future Its wooden columns stand like mute exclamation marks! or so it may look to me. Flies  the  skidding scaly tarred  snake   Fast and spreading like the traveler travelling on it. Patchy it looks, now;   And  full like the  misery  of the scorned lover Eager like  the  maiden speech of a parlimentarian   The country road, runs fluid like a stream after the rains. As the rustle of the engine   trips and   falls into the  divine  air. A  roaming peacock calling adds  charm to the great whole fare A winged beauty, struts across Nudged by the sputtering , speeding me. The exotic avian   attains the hedges galore With its   metal blue  feathery strangeness blurred in my glancing eye A species rare, found only in ornithologists diary. A  clamour in the  air And the   school boys emerge in buddy pairs Beneath the village banyan That let loose its tresses to dry like a country maid. I see, a promising glint in their eyes The will make themselves of king and ministers of the modern days The  sonority of ringing bell   clubs the cacophony of school boys in into two dead parts. They return to their classes, sanctified by the silence, And open their minds to the feminine vocie. A Glorious moment , As the  morn of wisdom is born Rich are the sightings of poor country side And many are the mappings on the way, My sensibilities recouped, I drove back not spent But profound. sound.
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49
We lay here as the night sets sail, as that darkness falls away. Underneath the dying night, waiting for the beckoning light. The stones that rest beneath our backs, rounded by the years and tides, how they make us both relax, filtering our thoughts and fears. Being close to nature. Being close to you, these they are the moments, the ones that draw me near to you. The moments that resist confusion, slowy.......... filtering the truth! A thought once it has blossomed, can easily defy its roots. But now we're left with nothing, just the stars above our heads. The stars that sparkle in your eyes, the ones that say its time for bed. Those eyes that watch me dreaming, as I slowly fade away. They're the only eyes I want, as we greet the light of day.
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Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 9:02 PM UTC
As We Greet The Light Of Day.
*Severe lightning flashes, unveils the gloomy sky. Quiet, lonely, darkness. Somewhere in nowhere. A misery heart bleeds. Pillow soaked in tears. Melancholia flows. Psychology’s name for sad. Depression they say. a scribbled note and pen. some pills to end the mind’s pain. Slowy, life, drifted away. A pause in time felt. The world stopped, silent, to mourn. Oblivion awaits.*
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Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 8:20 PM UTC
Melancholia
The tin man gave his heart to the scare crow because he needed a reason to live spending all day and night talking to the wind without a heart he would of gave in he wouldn't of been able to live but by giving his heart to the scare crow it left the tin man empty he had no way to feel anything so slowy but surely he stopped moving because he couldnt live knowing he couldnt feel if he hurt somebody he gave his brain to the lion if he didn't have courage at least he could think maybe he would be able to live in the background but be smart enough to still help people and change things the lion gave his courage to the scar crow so that one day he will have the courage to get down but until then the lion couldnt wear his crown then a girl named dorothy came walking through scarecrow, the outgoing man he was gave her a talking to he wanted to get down so he asked her for a favor or two the lions courage he used to save himself and later the lion too then he came across the tin man not being able to move through and through he walked over there and put in the oil too for the first time in years he was able to move then they hoped and skiped into the forest where the tall trees grew and as the lion hid in the bushes he thought to prove he still had courage stopping them was one thing he could do so he stepped out in front started hollaring a mess then he got scared of a dog and you know the rest dorothy scholded him the heartless girl she was and told him he shouldnt of done that the tin man would of felt bad to the core of his heaart if he still had one and because he didnt know he tuned in and the scare crow stepped back watching it all as he cringed later he told them about the courage he had not and dorothy changed her tune and told him she would get his courage back she led them all into a place she didn't know all so she could go home
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Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 10:28 PM UTC
Wizard of Oz
The tin man gave his heart to the scare crow because he needed a reason to live spending all day and night talking to the wind without a heart he would of gave in he wouldn't of been able to live but by giving his heart to the scare crow it left the tin man empty he had no way to feel anything so slowy but surely he stopped moving because he couldnt live knowing he couldnt feel if he hurt somebody he gave his brain to the lion if he didn't have courage at least he could think maybe he would be able to live in the background but be smart enough to still help people and change things the lion gave his courage to the scar crow so that one day he will have the courage to get down but until then the lion couldnt wear his crown then a girl named dorothy came walking through scarecrow, the outgoing man he was gave her a talking to he wanted to get down so he asked her for a favor or two the lions courage he used to save himself and later the lion too then he came across the tin man not being able to move through and through he walked over there and put in the oil too for the first time in years he was able to move then they hoped and skiped into the forest where the tall trees grew and as the lion hid in the bushes he thought to prove he still had courage stopping them was one thing he could do so he stepped out in front started hollaring a mess then he got scared of a dog and you know the rest dorothy scholded him the heartless girl she was and told him he shouldnt of done that the tin man would of felt bad to the core of his heaart if he still had one and because he didnt know he tuned in and the scare crow stepped back watching it all as he cringed later he told them about the courage he had not and dorothy changed her tune and told him she would get his courage back she led them all into a place she didn't know all so she could go home
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62
Clouds of turmoil roll As a heart unfolds and flows One to love and hold One with finance and goals But whom shall hold my soul The clouds of turmoil roll One love so young and bold With mutton chops and smile upon his brow Eyes that glisten with words unspoken Then the clouds they roll One so sheilded by a wall of pain Of a time so lost in age So broken worn and tired Eyes that seen a lifetime lost Without a love or queen Again the clouds they roll Shatters my heart and maybe my soul To love them both or null The clouds of turmoil slowy roll
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Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 11:18 PM UTC
CLOUDS OF TURMOIL ROLL
warm blankets cover me yet there seems to be a new coating of frost on my skin rippling tired depressive wakes behind me shadows are attached yet mine is lacking in a certain lustar because it's constantly fading... or maybe I'm just slowy disintegrating into something sharp and cold and no longer human
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Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 6:09 AM UTC
frozen over from the inside out
I’m not sad But I’m not happy, either I try to cry Or scream, or run Because my mind is slowy killing me I feel like the world Reject me And try to erase me I have no one to talk No one to love Except the ****** in my head And the empty room in my heart
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Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 10:09 AM UTC
From no one to no one
No love lost, no love found, only emptiness is all around, love is the only feel i wanted by whole world, but inluckylly it's a imagination only, which you originates by your self slowy slowly, itls the best feel to imagine but you came in the in the realy world, you found that it was a dream which you scrolled up and down tilll the last, to found your abilities as you which have to broke, and when it brokes you wokeup and se that you are alone.
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Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 7:46 AM UTC
some time love is like
I stood in the cloister and breathed in the cold morning air and heard the echo of the church bells tolling, Deus tactus, birdsong on the air, trees swaying as dancers on the stage of the green fields, ici est Dieu autour de nous the French monk said opening his arms wide, she undressed slowy revealing each aspect of her body to tempt, before all and above all attention shall be paid to the care of the sick so that they shall be served as if they were Christ Himself said Benedict, Hugh moaned of noises as someone passed his cell door, I climbed the ladder in the abbey orchard to gather apples as shown by Dom Charles his tonsured head visble from above, Gott unveränderlich ist es wir die wir ändern the Austrian monk said as he aided me to wash dishes in the kitchen, the smell of flowers from the cloister garth and the heat of the sun, I shall spread myself wide for you she said I shall open up like a flower at dawn, I get tired of the darkness all around me Therese said the darkness itself seems to borrow from the sinners who live in it the gift of speech, God is unchnaging Dom Joseph(dear Bunny) said it is we who change, I entered the church for Matins the lights lit up in the chill morning darkness as the monks gathered like ravens at feast of bread, i nostri peccati si aggrappano a noi come i pidocchi the Italian monk said as we walked before Compline stars above us and moon bright, come to me she said come stay and make love the whole night.
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Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 1:39 AM UTC
THE WHOLE NIGHT 1971.
Walking in the pale evening dusk, as the world slowy turns to it's darkened self. The last Sun rays seeping from the sky. The world should naturally fade to black. But our artificial glow comes to light, To keep us up all night.
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Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 8:06 PM UTC
"Dusk"
Today, you left me again. Alone in this dusty roads. You know how much I want to cry? That the very person I wanna be with, Doesn't care for me a bit. Today, I realize I am not your priority. When you are always on my top list. I waited for you to call my name, But you never did. Today, I was so hurt. That I just want to runaway from you. From all the memories with you. Because everytime I think you of I'm slowy fading away. Today, I want to say to you "I really wanted to hate you, but I love you."
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Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 8:17 AM UTC
Today
Scrugged slowy. And then. Puny roared with impunity.
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Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 6:22 AM UTC
Back
Look at me,look at me and tell me what you achieved out of hurting me? Did you not stop to think to yourself to think of how I felt? Did your cold heart not bare to listen closely, to show a single care for me? It seems as if you enjoyed inflicting your vain pain on me.its as if your inhumanity is a cover to what ever your hiding under your cracked hands. Why did you do this to me? What did I ever do to gain hate from you? All I ever did was smile at you, try to be your friend ,but you threw it back into my face. You made me feel so small, so belittled as you viciously trampled on me, slowy not realising how much I wanted to hide away from you. You never ever gave me a chance to be your friend, and all I can say now is here you are looking at me, at my grave, your lost for words, speechless. I gave in too quick to your game so there you have it, you win. Dont cry, dont feel bad, I want you to smile at the fact of getting rid of me, smile and move on but know that your the reason im dead. R.i.p amanda todd
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Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 12:03 PM UTC
"The Bully" dedication to amanda todd R.I.P
Was it the words or the picture or the painting I imagined of what your love would feel like that caused my heart to tremble and lose count of the number of times it had been broken I forgot what life I was living and couldn't tell the now from the then were you a love lost and forgotten or a name I had yet to kiss and what was hiding behind the shy disguise of your eyes Was it a hunger for lust or love or just hands needing blood to **** a little time or was it unknown colors that lead to the magic of pleasures you keep hidden beneath the blanket of your dreams And the corner of your lips where your smile ended did it curve and bend towards the direction of seduction or was it a smirk of satisfaction from a recent ribcage you had plundered above your mattress as the clock ticked slowy past 2 am and when you had finished you left not even the ghost of a soul I couldn't tell if I was lost in a thought of a shipwreck sleeping at the bottom of your sea or being eaten by the desire of a dream with the teeth of your kiss and all I could do was watch in a helpless sedation as my imagination painted while reading the eyes in your picture and gazing at the stars in your words
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Oct 31, 2016
Oct 31, 2016 at 12:59 PM UTC
the stars in your words
Exchanging a large coffee for two-hundred cents - in a, oh - so, desperate attempt to prevent - himself from falling, fast, asleep at the wheel - and crashing his big, ole', blue hunk o' steel. Driving, so, slowy down a snowy prairie road, - with no particular place, in his mind, to go, - beneath a, winter's, waxing gibbous moon's glow; - tis' where you'll, certainly, find Aegidius O'Crow, - somewhere way out west o' big & bright Toronto. Where he often goes, though, people seldom know.
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Feb 15, 2017
Feb 15, 2017 at 12:34 AM UTC
An Insomniac's Excursions
Tick Tock Tick Tock Tick... Oh, how agonizing and stressful the clicks of a clock are. Tick Tock Tick Tock... And oh, how the the conversation in the room around me are taxing. Tick Tock Tick... The Smiles, the laughter Tick Tock... You tell me to wait, that everything will work out, there's nothing to blame. Tick... But baby, patience is a virtue I've never been able to claim. Tock.
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Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 9:24 PM UTC
Time, Patience, Slowy Run Out.
What am I doing wrong As I sit here with BULLETS' in the chamber Russian roulette to my invader Suicide Contemplating My life been so Intoxicating Something Got a hold on me Lately it's been slowy squeezing Now I'm suffocating They say I can change my ways But I hardly believe it
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Aug 10, 2016
Aug 10, 2016 at 1:06 AM UTC
silence
With every words that you say, Did you mean it? When you held my hand, Did you actually want to touch it? No, no, no--- I'm not doubting you It's just that, the feeling is a hue I, getting lost with the beauty of blue Slowy turning into purple, Oh God, I'm torn into two You said, you were lucky Are you pertaining to having me? Or the thought you are not alone anymore Well, I can stay, Aware as you can be. But please, oh please Why change my individuality? When I thought love was real and accepting You become nagging and demanding You wanted a woman of modesty Instead, I'm a girl full of insecurity With all hopes, I ask you to consider kindly Make me cherish the love you tell me.
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Apr 27, 2017
Apr 27, 2017 at 1:16 PM UTC
Subtle