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Knit Personality Jul 2018
Root of all thirsting,
    My greatest desire,
A single drop bursting
    Can put out a fire.
A single drop wholly
    Divorced from the brine,
A single drop holy,
    The liquid divine.

        Find what you love,
            And let it **** you.
        Water, I love you.
            **** me, will you?

Raindrop or dewdrop
    I want on my tongue.
For the old drop and new drop
    These verses are sung.
The new drop and old drop
    Of water I crave,
The hot drop and cold drop,
    From cradle to grave.

        Find what you love,
            And let it **** you.
        Water, I love you.
            **** me, will you?

Drown me in oceans,
    In crystalline seas,
In H2O potions
    Of perfect degrees.
Drown me in teardrops
    Divorced from the brine,
In flawlessly clear drops
    Of the liquid divine.

        Find what you love,
            And let it **** you.
        Water, I love you.
            **** me, will you?

#
Debbie Brindley Jul 2018
Lifes tragically hard
more things going wrong

Sometimes I do wonder
how sorrowful
the lyrics would be
if written as a song

A song of great love
friendship
contentment
and trust

Of passion
happiness
beauty
and
lust

Of illness  
tragedy
loneliness
and fear

Of anger
confusion
and heartbreak
over the one I hold dear

What sad lyrics they'd be
If my life with you
were a song
Life
Peter B Feb 2018
Love isn't blind,
blind are those,
who never loved.
If you would like to support my poetry, you can do it via link: paypal.me/pbalkus
Seanathon Apr 2018
The universe puts her headphones on
And plays her favorite track
The raindrops in the meadow burst
And soak the earth
And with her feet up on the world
She smiles from ear to ear
And plays it back
Random I know. No words. BUT WOW! Poem of the day (for 05/18/18) is an honor for me. Thank you so much! And to show my appreciation, you can now listen to me read this poem live on SoundCloud. Just follow the link and have an awesome day!!!

https://soundcloud.com/user-433755196/her-favorite-song-1
Cné Apr 2017
mσσnlíght ín thє mєαdσw
cαѕtѕ thє ѕhαdσw σf thє trєєѕ
í cαtch α glimpse of ѕílvєr
αѕ thє вrαnchєѕ cαtch thє вrєєzє
thєrє'ѕ juѕt α ѕσund σf ruѕtlíng lєαvєѕ
ín ѕσlítudє í ѕtrσll
thє wσσdѕ αrє mínє thíѕ єvєníng
αѕ í plαч thє wσmαn'ѕ rσlє
pαuѕíng вч thє rívєrвαnk
thє ѕчmphσnч вєgínѕ
thє ruѕhíng wαtєr'ѕ cσuntєrpσínt
tσ lívє σαk'ѕ crєαkíng límвѕ
thє gєntlє wínd, thє tєmpσ mαkєѕ
αnd í вєgín tσ hєαr
thє rhчthm σf thє pulѕє σf lífє
αn єαrth ѕσng ín mч єαr
hσw ѕwєєt thє єvєníng ѕєєm tσ mє
αríαѕ fíll thє níght
αnd thєn thєч mαkє α chσruѕ
αѕ thє mσσn rєѕumєѕ hєr flíght
hσmєwαrd вσund, í pαuѕє αnd líѕtєn
α mєlσdч ѕσ ѕwєєt
rєgrєtfullч, thє ѕpєll íѕ gσnє
nσw, juѕt thє trαffíc'ѕ вєαt
Happy Earth Day!
CK Baker Jan 2017
In time you’ll recover and absolve
push those scorned impressions aside
hammer down the jaded edges
and sing
that delightful commoners song
the one you sang so well
in what seems a lifetime ago

You really had it you know
that fiery disposition and nimble cunning
those butter chords and derelict style
we could see it -- we could all see it
it was all it took to turn the evening tide
(and rile that buck fever)
heads bashing
tongues lambasting
middle fingers high
and raising Cain on those may fly statesmen

There were no rules
when it came to your survival
no textbook rally or common bond
no structured songbird or bravado stage
you either made it, or laid it
“life by the *****” Mr. Poppy would say
a kaleidoscope of dreams
with rich colored imagery
hardened artisan seams
in a carefully woven motif

But something got lost in the needle point
something sinister and distorted took hold
the quirks and street genius
that were your lifeline
gave way to grunts
and squeals
and chilling night crawlers
the colors faded quickly
to a cold confining grey

There was no grace in the new world
no retribution or switch back
no salvation or accorded finale
only edged platforms of blackened steel
that kept you cased
in a silent vanquished cell
shivering cold with fear
night without day
all in the shadow of death

But time heals all
and the polish sneakers
and open sores are long gone
(though the roman nose and shallow cleft remain)
indeed the falconer beat the widow maker
this go around
and I’m hopeful it won’t happen again
and if it does you’ll see me
standing hand on heart
with that old verse in hand:

he ain’t tainted
or silly,
and most certainly
not forgotten…
he ain’t loony
or fixed,
or a product of his self-doing…
he’s just a straight shootin’ guy,
who had the most of it
figured out
Cné Aug 2017
Fragmented lives entangled
but asunder in our journey
as our paths cosmically connect
in a romance of the arts

And who's to say what's real
to touch or deeply feel
what will truly last
or simply where to start

So I’ll
paint you alla prima
as I feel you playing me
in warm colors of merging ardor
a wet blending of artistry
my brush strokes of your body
painted in my mind
of impressions blushed in passion
in hues I can’t describe

Suspended in the moment
floating on a breeze
I revel in this picture painted music
almost in disbelief, unthinking…
knowing every nuance of our love
found only in our dreams

Like children in parallel play
I’ll finger the keys
and slip the locks
of all your orchestrations
filling the walls
of my concerts halls
with deep
splattered tones
in pinks and blues
the hues
that forever
bind us

And we’ll not look back
nor forward
but hang here in the moment
to display our
Painted Song
in the eyes
of giggly children
both doing
our own thing
together
on a string
curated
A collaboration with Howard Hilde
https://hellopoetry.com/u693528/
Any song can sound sweet,
if you tune your tone appropriately,
and add a lyric,
with a melody
and I have seen where there is a life,
there is a song
but some songs are not only a love song
that notion was a loop, intense, black and blue passionate song
was not romantic

She was a sad song
and I thought I would know how to make it better
like if I could be the only to love her again,
I believed that everything would fall into a melodious love song
but  I lost a few lines of lyrics
and there was bit melody missing that I couldn't find
and I saw too many scratches on the disc
I couldn't let myself be made no longer
trying to fix her entirety.
.
@Musfiq us shaleheen
scratches on the disc
Shofi Ahmed May 2017
When you stepped in my door,
I realised I was Paradise
in my heart and soul.
You were so surefooted
because you came up from the high.
So long I longed for it.
O Fathima, only to kiss your feet!

The time was so sweet,
beyond anyone’s dream
only in pure beauty
I was rendering,
screaming to new highs.
I did it my way!
Lovely bouncing on
my polished pitch,
the rivers forget to flow
back to the seas.
But no one knew
where my toe melts!
Until you did
and took me for a tread
closer to your spring,
my sweet dream:
O Fathima, only to kiss your feet!

Your so pleased man wished
to rain down with love,
but humble you hid your feet!
You blinded the moon, snowed it
away under seven seas.
No wonder it's
your winning footing.
Like the Prophet said:
I found me the heaven
beneath the mother’s feet.
O Fathima, only on your feet!
Brody Blue Nov 2017
Here we go again,
Another yarn to spin;
As you, once again,
Pretend that it's the end.
And that, besides your curls,
Your dimples, and your pearls,
You're not like other girls
And you wish you were my world
And I wish you were all, my darling
But I don't get to make the rules

A man is not a man
Because he has a plan
And, just because he can,
Counts ev'ry grain of sand.
For as sure as they are numbered
And that one and one is two,
Twelfth & Vine is on his mind
And Mississippi, too;
But I wish you were all, my darling
But I can't seem to pick and choose

Each time you come back down the hall ––
(Each time you earn my trust) ––
You confuse what you're supposed to do
With that which you must,
And by the idols of the mind
Young is wasted on the youth
So to hell with being honest,
For once I'll tell the truth:
That I wish you were all my darling
But I wish they were all mine, too
A song about hokum
Brody Blue Jun 2018
Must we go on believing
That the best is yet to come
When we both know for certain
All there ever was is done?
Because whatever we were meant to be
We never had a prayer;
You weren’t where you said you’d be
And I was never there.

I don’t mean to let you have it
Like I did back when in Rome
But the line goes slack for no one
And a soft tongue breaks the bone
But as for holding onto fullness,
As for reaching for my hand
All attempts are vain and useless;
I am never where I am.

So leave your burdens where they lie
With the words you’ve memorized
We said when we knew we’d fly,
And we’d never die,
And it was meant to be,
But it was fantasy;
And it was destiny
That won the duel

My Beautiful Little Fool.
Farewell, my love; farewell, to you;
My Beautiful Little Fool.

And in spite of all that you’ve been taught,
And the bull that you have bought,
And everything you think you thought:
You are what you are naught;
And all the days to come,
And all of your wisdom,
Will not save you from
Your heart’s rule

My Beautiful Little Fool.
Farewell, my love; farewell, to you;
My Beautiful Little Fool.
A song about the skull beneath the skin
ethan gaskill Jul 2018
i want to be
your vintage crooner for life
frank sinatra mixed with marvin gaye
with twenty-first century style
i'd greet you at the door with flowers
and be your chauffeur to wherever
you want to go i'll take you
there's no rush; we have forever
our life can feel like a movie
almost too good to be true
sooner or later you'll realize
i've always felt that way about you
galas and night dances and jet airplanes to france
would only be enjoyable if i'm holding your hand
i think that we could see our dreams
with our own awake eyes
so come and ride away with me
and we can have the time of our lives
whether sunday morning pancakes or a tuesday noontime lunch
breakfast in bed or a venice bistro will be equally fun
and if god takes us that far
i'd point to you when our daughter asks what a queen is
we could show our children how dedication
and compassion makes life feel like you're dreaming
and someday many years from now
when we have an empty nest
we'll remember the feature film of our romance
and decide that we did it best
laura Jun 2018
with respect to your hair man
play with it, been living large
so you ain't got time to cut it
put it in a ponytail that puts mine to shame

it's a little weird talking about your hair
seagulls make a birds nest on it
it's a hair song, sing songs along the cold air
picasso paint it well, redoing the blue three hundred times

police pull ya over because of it
sometimes ya skin color makes it knappy
like the way it settles on my blue jeans
when you rest your head on my lappy
ya got a crush on me && i love ur hair
I forgot the things that I know, the stories surrounding what’s been told, my lover’s heart is frosted cold cause I can’t live without you baby.

The water-wheel of that old mill,
the wildflowers growing on that hill,
the small town life, it moved so slow,
gave us time to get to know,
each other's hearts and let love grow...

…so fruitful all the time we had,
through thick and thin, good and bad,
but eventually you had to go-oh.

I forgot the things that I know, the stories surrounding what’s been told, my lover’s heart is frosted cold but I can’t live without you baby.

I cast your ashes in the stream,
beneath the water-wheel that made you beam,
that smile I will not forget and all the happiness that came with it,
and here I sit alone and sad, reflecting on the times we had,
coastal waves to pink sunset, on that first day that we met,
some later rainy but not to wet, -still I couldn’t live without you baby.

And I forgot the things that I know, the stories surrounding what’s been told, my lover’s heart now frosted cold, forced to live without you baby,

I forgot the things that I know, the stories surrounding what’s been told, my lover’s heart is frosted cold cause I can’t live without you baby.

I can’t live without you baby,
I can’t live without you baby,
Here I am without you baby,
I can’t live without you baby…

Forget the things that come and go, those stories surrounding times of old, your lover’s heart will not grow cold when you can think about your baby,

I can’t live without you baby,
I can’t live without you baby,
Here I am without you baby,
I can’t live without you baby…

...here I am without you baby...
This is for my Father who lost my Mother on 3/14/2014.
sophia Jul 2017
his voice left me breathless,
and his song brought me home.
multi sumus Nov 2018
Please excuse the delinquency of this introduction

Our reluctance
             to the judgements
                        of the agents
                                   of destruction

We wanted to write a few prose so those who chose could be gathering from it

The assumption
              there is something
                               an insight
                                      or deduction

And while concidering the possible repercussions We might be facing

The presentation
        this present state in
                   which the statements
                               press mentation

We're sure to procure closure in the vulnerable over exposure

with exhorted
               supplications
                              by esoteric
         ­                                revelations
                               
In the beginning lets just start with a na-ame

                   Multi Sumus
                 "We Are Many"
          All of one and the sa-ame  

                environmental
                     incidental
       so there's no ONE to bla-ame

                  Amalgamated
                   Complicated
      yet We're feeling no sha-ame


   Cursed with this blessing by the charts of Our births

    Compounded by experience throughout the time on this earth

   Situation realization through extensive research

                  Ameliorating
                   Emendating
          till returned to the dirt


               So it's obvious
              there's lots of Us
                      Innocuous
                 We promise this
                 with confidence

influencingcongruent  
                          confluence
               of the congregants
              by this augmented
                           auspicious
                           cognizance

                           auspices
                             operable
    in Our neurological
                       acropolis

                        
 Okay, now that We have your um "unndivided" attention

The ****** descention intentional

With potential illicit material

Exotic content individuals

Unequivocal extreme of the
physical

Inciting the violence eventual

With depraved images into the temporal


  And just when you thought We couldnt exacerbate this already exasperating elaborate facade

  Now We have you fascinated thinking We're ******* to The Marque De Sade!

Post deliberation- Psychopathia Sexualis as bed time stories was kind of odd

But The Kama Sutras' pages had hastened degradation from where they'd been gnawed!

   There were a few more things we want to sit down and talk about

Like the fact that We're actually celibate
The distain for institutionalised education
and dropping out

Thats alot of intimate information
  "How could We ever let this happen?"

To be honest We're just honored to give some fodder for your defamation of character cannon!
 
  So before you begin your rapacious onslaught of malevolent inspection!

   We've already detected all the things that's presumed you've currently rejected!

   With proverbial red pen in hand you've commenced your conceited correcting!

   And your futile fervent attempt, in leaving Us feeling extremely dejected!

   your annoyance with the performance of deforming poetic normalcy

The convulsive compulsions of the expulsions of the compulsory

            Conclusions include:
                 Literal assault
                          and
                Literary battery

And cleaning from the cathodes This convoluted corrosion of conformity!


    Without trying to sound hostile
                          though it's possible
                                   that a hospital
        istheonlyinstitutionthatcan
                    ­                    jostle those
                                              illogical
   ­                    pre con ceived
               fossilisedmisconceptions

                       ­ All the while though

your just seeking attention for the aforementioned


Alright, Well We're not gonnna be a denying it

because We're constantly being reminded of

rhyming with defiant defining an

the metre maids retirement  

"She's been lying?!"
                    "Oh Geez!
                           She's fired then!"

cause its trying-trying to inspire realigning the tongue from relying on tying to find it!

        
      Gerunds are whoreable!

         /'speliNGz/ deplorable!

scriptioscripturascriptacontinua!...
"?"

(n)irony{8}>(adj)ironic+suffixally

(adv)       Ironically      {8}{3}­   (adj)         moral!          [3]|B2|
(adv)    Rhetorical­              [2a]
(adv)        ******!                   [1]

{dictionary.com}[merriamwebster]
|cambridge dictionary|

nunciatesinuateunctuateunciate!...
"There is no way We c"


   With atrocious verboseness
   who'd notice the odious?!

"We are not! gonna stan"

     01000001 01100100
        01110110 01010000!...

"Wait! i dont th"


   yllacitammarg cihpromanA
    tor/sion/ed          /vern/acular!

             ^                       ^
  CUL/t u r/AL PER/spect/IVE•

  <PECULIAR {2}  [] [] {}{}  L•VE>

"UughH!"¡"UughH!"¡"UughH!"
"STOP!
              STop!

(adj)[1:2a]    stop! Wha' what are you doing?!"
".."
"No no, you get offof there!"
-(motioning with finger)
"And you two! Mmf!"
-(shaking head upwards)
           "~" "~"
"Don't use that tone with me!"
                "="
"Alright then"        
-(stern nod)
-(salaci•us grin while smacking both bottoms as walking past ;)

(adj)[1]
"Now what do you think your doing?"
-(quickly turning towards other)
"……,…"
"Rreally?"
"……!.."
"And how is that helpful?"
-(crossing arms)
"….-¿lol"
"Did i ask you fo?"
"…..-~¿"
"And you are entitled" "¡" "to" "¡" "your" "¡" "•pinion."
"…!"
"i understand, yes"
"…;~
!"
"Yes"
"~#"
"YES!"
-(opening arms)
"just talk WITH Us about these issues."
-(hand on shoulder)

(n){8}{9}
"……"
"No fret, May We continue?"
"!"
"Go•d"
"!"
"Now, Would you be so kind?"
-(gesturing towards player)
".."
"thank you."
-(humble nod)
"…,……^?"
"They wouldn't be able hear it anyway"
"?"
-(shaking head downward closing eyes)

               "Because it is written"
                              

     (We now return you to the
    regularly scheduled program
            already in progress
)
                              

…attenuating circumstance by objectionable technical difficulties


  Continually conjugating with;        
intellectually
infectional
inflectional
abilities

    But these consensual;
contemptually
abjectionable
contextual
similes

   has Us postulating that with;
exceptionally
inceptional
correctional
humilities

   there's a deduction exponentially of;
potentially
subjectionable
conjectural
tendencies


  We're very much obliged that you would grace us with your presence
   in essence
   it's evident
you take precedence
being prevalent
   and the
relevance of your acceptance
to Our all exclusive
    intrusive collusion
is proving profusely
  that the astute
  can irrefutably
elude the obtuses'
       rebuking


And although We're not looking
                           for
                    justification
                just in case then
               the arrangement
             with it's placement
                   of degrading
                     statements
                        ajacent
                   ­       to the
                         blatent
                    and flagrant
                   abnormalities
                 with the falacies
                 of formalities in
                    a-all actuality
                     being valid
                         via the
                      vehement
                           and
                      venenated
                      vituper­ate
                       veracities

  And just so you know the list of pressumptions is deliberately
unexhaustive
At the cost of
your responses
involving constant devolving nonsense
in the comments
on the contents
full of copious despondent obstinance
But as optimists
Our only option is
hopes that it's the conglomerate
your being honest with

                 And please,
                     We ask,
         That you use your true profile when you begin your posting

  That we can ALL see the blood of a "real" poets muse
            flow from the pen

                  So in closing...

Next time you make the
           decision to visit them
             with your insolence

                 machiavellist
            hypercritical cynic,
               Remembering a

            six minute version
          "authority" usurption
               deserving by an

                              •

                    Uneducated
       Mental Fragmental Eunich
                   Eunoterpsian

          
           Filling your head with
     thoughts you wish to jetison
              by suggestions of

              ingestions with a
     taste of your own medicine!
        When you rest your head

          sugar plums won't be
    dancing, substantial chances
            you will be glancing

          a couple more times,
          We hear repetition is
             good for a growing

                             •

         Mind you that We left
         easter eggs to quantify
            attendance, intense

                attention on Us
      at least you will be leaving
               the others alone

             We just wanted to
           take this opportunity
                            to cast the first stone.
Donatien Alphonse François
  Marquis de Sade
1740-1814

Psychopathia Sexualis (Psychopathy of ***), by Richard Freiherr von Krafft-Ebing, 1886

The Kama Sutra (/ˈkɑːmə ˈsuːtrə/; Sanskrit: कामसूत्र  is an ancient Indian Hindu writing by Vātsyāyana
400 BCE-200CE

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3099453/first-stone-ode-to-trolls-extrapolated-i/

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3099476/first-stone-ode-to-trolls-extrapolated-ii/
Knit Personality Aug 2018
O hear!  O hear!  O come thee near,
And let me whissssper in thine ear.  
                              Hssss!

Come nearer yet, and nearer yet:
I'll wrap thee round, nor shouldst thou fret.  
                              Hssss!

Be thou unshaken, and fear no ill:
Ssssubmit unto the Law thy will.  
                              Hssss!

The Law of the Jungle lives and dies
By ssssnapping jaws and lifeless eyes.  
                              Hssss!

We be of one blood, thou and I.
That I may live, so thou shalt die.  
                              Aaa-ssp!

O.O
Carter Ginter Jul 2016
I don't need to breathe
I just need to sleep
I need you to stop getting so close to me
I'm a ticking time bomb
Ready to blow
One more second
And my world will explode

I'm Dreaming of death
No regrets
**** all these demons that are filling my head
They tempt me with rest
That final escape
And I'm waiting for the moment that
I finally cave

Lost in a moment
And I'm feeling alright
Maybe even thinking
I don't hate this life
But that light came so fast
And Now it's all passed
My darkness returns
Leaving nothing in its path

I'm Dreaming of death
No regrets
**** all these demons that are filling my head
They tempt me will rest
A final escape
And I'm waiting for the minute that
I finally cave

Ugh
God save my soul
I need a way out
I've been digging my grave
And This dirts coats my mouth
But I know you cant hear me
No I don't believe
Cause I control my own destiny

But I can't do it on my own

I'm Dreaming of death
No regrets
**** all these demons that are filling my head
They tempt me will rest
A final escape
And I'm waiting for the second that
I finally cave

Please, I know you can do it
No
Baby don't give in
I swear it'll change
Just try to make it
One more day
Another song
Brody Blue Aug 2017
High on the mountain,
I’m all alone,
Sittin’ by the river,
Water splashin’ on the stones;
As mornin’ fills the valley
Where before, the night was hung,
I wake up from the wine
But the pines block-out the sun

And the rain ain’t pleasin’,
And the cold is on the ground,
And strung-out on the byways
All the highwaymen stand round;
And above the crooked timber,
All the whippoorwills fly blue,
And they sing a song so lonesome,
Can’t you hear it comin’ thru?

Or did you decide
That you’ve gone deaf and blind
And I’ve been on the job so long
Who knows if I’ll survive, you just sigh,
As I wonder why I keep on
Tryin’ to get to you;
it’s no use…

There at your window,
Leanin’ on the ledge,
Y’got ‘em tryin’ to beat the blade
With a nine-pound sledge;
Y’got ‘em workin’ on a building,
Ev’ry carpenter in town;
Well if I had it my way
I would tear that building down

But it won’t get done
All I could ever win’s been won;
And I’ve been on the job so long
Who knows if I’ll survive, you won’t cry,
But will you try, if I die
While tryin’ to get to you, to
Bury Me in Georgia
Next to you

After all that I’ve been had
You’d think that I’d go mad,
But my anticipation
Outweighs my lack of patience;
‘Cause I’ve been on the job so long
Who knows if I’ll survive, so
Bury Me in Georgia
Next to you
A song about peaches
Autumn Daze Jan 2016
That song you wrote
is still on replay mode
It used to make me special
to leave, you did cause you said shall.

I wish you didn't have to
though you said it is for me too
I never want you to leave
because to you I want to live.

The lines of that song,
oh what happened wrong
can't we just relive the lines
and grow together like vines.

I want to hear you sing that song you composed
as long as I live but why does everyone oppose?
© Cassandra Cereza
012516

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Waldo Apr 2017
I’ve chosen to walk
A lonely road
Where ravens squawk
As time erodes
Where the devil talks
Through whispered codes

I walk along
A dark wooded path
Where the nights are long
And I face Satan's wraith
Everything feels wrong
There's no turning back

The more I wander
The more I stray
More time to squander
The days away
So much time to ponder
The end of days

Darkness is falling
The Earth is dying
The Devil's calling
The news is lying
It's all so appalling
There's no denying

This path I roam
Is filled with sorrows
Nowhere feels home
Too many tomorrows
Too Many poems
Spreading my woes

The Devil follows
He tempts my soul
But my soul is hollow
So still I stroll
This pain I swallow
And it takes its toll

I can not save
This doomed planet
We've dug our grave
Satan's enchantment
Has made us slaves
Bloodshed is rampant

And when we crumble
I'll shed no tears
The devil mumbles
In our ears
So we stumble
Year after year
As the end draws near
Debbie Brindley Jul 2018
Your hands and fingers
so very strong
Yet filled with tenderness
as you strummed my song
Such a wonderful guitarist
I loved watching you play
As the melody you played
carried you away
To a place so peaceful
it was beautiful to see
As you strummed the piece of music you'd written for me
Missing you. Missing you play
sara Jun 2018
When did I stop trusting you?
I didn't even notice it.
When did I stop listening,
start thinking you were full of it?

Convinced I'd heard it all before,
read all the writing on the wall.
I'd smile, and nod, then close the door.
I won't believe you anymore.

Why did I stop trusting you?
I never even wanted to.
The sky, it just turned inside out
when I first lent my ear to doubt.
'Full of it' is an English phrase which means full of **** btw
Brody Blue May 2018
Sunday's bell broke the recess
And three times, as professed,
The gavel rapped before the rooster's caw.
The horn was blown, the drum was beat,
And in the top of every street
We swooned with the wounded at the wall.
And we said nothing but our prayers;
But if someone's heard something,
Nobody cares.

And now with the yellow moon
Fixed beyond the clouds that loom,
It soon would be a day the devil owned.
High on horseback, thru the mud,
They came and bathed their hands in blood,
From the thumb up to the funny-bone.
And we said nothing but our prayers;
But if someone's heard something,
Nobody cares.

And, by and by,
We will crawl
Before we fly,
High above
The middle of
Utopia.

Lightning made the thunder ring
Until the dawn, when suddenly,
Light divided darkness in the east.
Thus once more the wheel has turned
And proved itself a viperous worm
That gnaws the bowels of the beast.
And we said nothing but our prayers;
But if someone's heard something,
Nobody cares.

And, by and by,
We will crawl
Before we fly,
High above
The middle of
Utopia.
A song about an honorable man.
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
I’ve been moving to the same song for so long,
I’ve forgotten how to make my own melody.
Singing only cover songs that I’ve heard along the way,
trying to find my own voice again.

I found myself moving to a different sound;
one of joy, of newness and sweetness of life.
Music that has been fighting to be released, exploding now into song.
For a time I was singing in perfect harmony with the voice of angels.

Your music was your own, doomed to repetition,
stuck behind an immobile wall of fear.
Caught up in youth and crisis.
You left heaven behind, free falling into another.

Looking for harmony in others, our duet became my solo,
making our song incomplete,
sounding more like a dirge than dance.
Once, one of beauty, I now weep at the sound.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
8/22/17

I can't stop thinking about you. Since the first moment I met you you're a constant in my head. Why? What is it about you that leaves a lingering effect? I don't want this. I keep dreaming of you, it isn't always the same. You're the closest thing to me in some, in others you're the furthest thing I can see that's still in focus. Round and round and round and round you spin in my head. I don't even know what exactly I'm thinking of when I'm thinking of you. I spend my time thinking about not thinking about you and I'm caught in a loop of you. I hope you're ok, I hope you’re safe, I hope you've eaten today, I hope you sleep well, I hope you're healthy. When will these feelings and thoughts fade? How can I spend so much time thinking about someone to whom my existence is much too much to even acknowledge? I don't hate you for this, but it still hurts. All my 11:11's are spent on you. I wish clarity, I wish stability, I wish happiness, and I wish love for you with whomever or whatever it is...

-JCM-
To Sing a Song
Of Love, full of Life
Consumes your Inner Carefree
And Compassion.

A Distinct Act of Tones
Bond into One
Notes which blend those Tunes
And squeezes Music-Juice.

A Happy Sound for All
To which when Played,
And Played,
And Played again
It is Finished. But not all.

It stands Forever; Lurking always
In your Memory
A Dainty Feeling to One's Heart
From the very Start
Till the End of your Time.

A Magical Compensation
To Children, Men
Or even to Animals
And Plants who could Hear,
And Feel,
The Warmth of a Song.

The Feelings it Brings,
Is Now and Forever,
Joy and Happiness to All
To Summer, to Fall,
To Winter, to Spring,
And to Everyone's Ears can hear,
And wear,
Like a Ring.

A Gem from your Mouth,
Eaten in Past Times
As One Grows and Improves
The Stamina
It becomes a Jewel
Which can sparkle when opens,
And closes,
And opens again.

It's Fun to know
Why many People would Show,
And Portray,

A Song,
A Grace,
A Feeling,
A Wonder,
A Mystery,
A Medicine for Sadness to All.
Sunlight on my grinning face
Follows me from place to place
But it won’t do
Don’t know how long I can wait
Wandering this empty space
Searching for you

Up and down the barren coast
Listen as the riptide rolls
With so much to say
Probably what hurts the most
Is knowing when you’re so **** close
And still so far away

Once per while I catch a glimpse
Of unintended fleeting hints
To call out your name
Won’t make much a difference
Words don’t carry far upwind
It’s always the same

In the breeze
I see it’s just the wind
It’s a tease
To be at the shoreline again

Shepherd, call the sheep back home
Be thankful that you’re not alone
Round em up one more time
My, how much the herd has grown
With wool to warm your gentle soul
Leave no soul behind
Country song form lyrics
<Loud as you can say it>
I am Outlaw!
         -call me Pirate!
I live such freedom,
         all souls admire it!
The awful God,
        has judged my soul,
Weighs his measure,
          I'll pay my toll!

<In a high-pitched voice>
The sailor's way,
        path unknown,
Stars are clouded,
        nothing shown?
The sea's are high,
        a storm is here,
Davey Jones' Locker,
        my home is near.

<Loud again, yell it>
There is no heaven,
        there is no hell,
Life on seas,
        the seas they swell,
Fish scales on arms,
         scales on my legs,
Heart born free,
         dread-locked and dregs!

I am Outlaw!
          -call me Pirate!
Lost lives redeemed,
          some should admire it,
The ship upended,
          all hands to drown,
In Davey Jones' Locker,
          a peaceful sound...

<In a high-pitched voice>
The sailor's way,
        path unknown,
Stars are clouded,
        nothing shown?
My time has ended,
        fate is near,
Davey Jones' Locker,
        my death is here.

<Loud again, yell it>
I am Outlaw!
         -call me Pirate!
A man of valor,
          some do admire it.

I am Outlaw!
          -call me Pirate!
A dreadful life,
           though some desire it.

I am Outlaw!
          -call me Pirate!
To Davey Jones' Locker,
          my deeds require it.

I am Outlaw!
          -call me Pirate!

I AM OUTLAW!
          -CALL ME PIRATE!

I am Outlaw!!
          -call me Pirate!
My life on the ocean,
          my God inside it.
BOOM!
Lizzy Jul 2014
Dancing and twirling
Devilish thoughts
They taunt
They sing
And laugh an eerie song

I know every word
Every down beat and note
I sing a long every day

Catchy tunes
They get stuck in your head
Even when there is no physical sound
It repeats
And repeats
On and on

Like a chanting spell
Like a screaming cry
This suicide song
It won't let me die
Brody Blue Aug 2017
In a drunken stupor, the widow lies awake
As she waits quietly for dawn to swiftly break;
As the trumpet hums its chords and loudly plays
I can't even look at
Where he lay

Kicked from the infantry and stripped of my gun
For knowing that a victory is never truly won,
I scoff at the thankful and their euphoric praise
When I can't even look at
Where he lay

One must submit to chaos to birth a dancing star
But to walk a narrow path's to swim a pool of tar
We are merely blunders made by our own mistakes
And you want me to look at
Where he lay?

Well, I'm fully intact but I don't give a ****
Misfortune casts its shadow, a deity so grand
I follow my moonlight's eternal haze
And it won't let me look at
Where he lay

It won't let me look at
Where I lay
ethan gaskill May 2018
she's the first name i write
and the first i erase
i don't need a reminder
to think of her face
she's the blue to my sea
and the yellow to my stars
the light of my dreams
and the blood in my heart
but poets write poems
and never draw pictures
even if it were a choice
i still would've picked her
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