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Chaos Kidd Dec 2020
As far as I can remember you’ve RAN my life,

From my father and mother and also Ex-wife,

We all have been your worthless slave,

Days we refused are the days we craved,

Desolation and destruction in your wake,

I’ve offered you my useless life to take,

As I fail to get my life on track,

I just shoot bigger loads of twack,

I’m as lost as the orphan boy in the woods,

I’m not remembered for doing much good,

Only wrongs and misplaced hate,

Had me wander into my fate,

I blame them all but not once me,

I blame them all one, two, and three,

So as I pointed out all their flaws,

I became immersed by your powerful jaws,

Your claws are sharp, long and pointy,

So where’s the right path can you please point me?

My direction is sporadic as my thoughts,

I knows there’s this one thing that I’ve been taught,

And that is never show weakness not in this game,

Or you may end up killed by what’s his name,

He burned you badly beyond repair,

Because you tread with little care,

I get that you were naïve,

But in my words you should believe,

I’ve been down this road my whole life through,

I beg that you won’t do these things that I do!,

I had a soul as my Fathers son,

And as my mothers youngest one,

I’ve watched these paths taken lightly,

The scenes I’ve seen aren’t all that sightly,

I’ve been young and as I grow old,

I started to learn to do as I’m told,

For if I hear those words nye,  

Soon I’ll be the one to die!,

Im so lost, alone, and misunderstood,

Sorrily the high I get just isn’t that good!,

Good enough I think inside,

But it could be better if only I tried,

Tears and blood oh I have tasted,

But its nothing to the years I've seemingly wasted!
Written on June 14, 2020 by my dear friend Jordan Ernest. This poem hit too close to home and is to beautifully real to not share with the rest of you.
A forward rush by the lamp in the gloom,
And we clasped, and almost kissed;
But she was not the woman whom
I had promised to meet in the thawing brume
On that harbour-bridge; nor was I he of her tryst.

So loosening from me swift she said:
“O why, why feign to be
The one I had meant—to whom I have sped
To fly with, being so sorrily wed,”
’Twas thus and thus that she upbraided me.

My assignation had struck upon
Some others’ like it, I found.
And her lover rose on the night anon;
And then her husband entered on
The lamplit, snowflaked, sloppiness around.

“Take her and welcome, man!” he cried:
“I wash my hands of her.
I’ll find me twice as good a bride!”
—All this to me, whom he had eyed,
Plainly, as his wife’s planned deliverer.

And next the lover: “Little I knew,
Madam, you had a third!
Kissing here in my very view!”
—Husband and lover then withdrew.
I let them; and I told them not they erred.

Why not? Well, there faced she and I—
Two strangers who’d kissed, or near,
Chancewise. To see stand weeping by
A woman once embraced, will try
The tension of a man the most austere.

So it began; and I was young,
She pretty, by the lamp,
As flakes came waltzing down among
The waves of her clinging hair, that hung
Heavily on her temples, dark and damp.

And there alone still stood we two;
She once cast off for me,
Or so it seemed: while night ondrew,
Forcing a parley what should do
We twain hearts caught in one catastrophe.

In stranded souls a common strait
Wakes latencies unknown,
Whose impulse may precipitate
A life-long leap. The hour was late,
And there was the Jersey boat with its funnel agroan.

“Is wary walking worth much pother?”
It grunted, as still it stayed.
“One pairing is as good as another
Where is all venture! Take each other,
And scrap the oaths that you have aforetime made.”

—Of the four involved there walks but one
On earth at this late day.
And what of the chapter so begun?
In that odd complex what was done?
Well; happiness comes in full to none:
Let peace lie on lulled lips: I will not say.
Mongi Jan 2018
Sandstorm of Affection

We danced in our spheres
Kept the hope for happiness within
But exhaustion and time came and undressed our realities
Fate became inevitable

With a single blow

We ran into our separate caves
Left the sandstorm to tear down everything that once surrounded us
We survived in our safety pretext
But the sandstorm was all in our element, where it lingered

Throughout our quests for genuine safety
We left little holes
Like those of termites' hills
To peep through as we paid careful attention
To the hope of the storm's immediate resolution
But so sorrily,
The winds were cruelly stronger than our expectations
And the turbulent winds spun violently piercing grains of sand
That greedily and hurtfully clogged our spying termites' holes
And shun us from the only last thing
That the sandstorm in our element had spared
So now we can hope for survival in our isolated darks

Thus, with a single atom of hope left within
Will we ever see each other again?
The cruel wish

Mongi C. Nkabindze
Time, it does everything, from construction to destruction. Reconstruction remains a phenomenon under question
Jordan Frances Jan 2014
To be completely honest,
You do not know what I am capable of.
You treat me to same way that
So many men I know
Treat their wives,
Including my father.

They order them around like slaves,
They blame them for things that are out of their control.
Yet they expect them to be superwoman
In the office, in the home, and in the bedroom.

The men in my life have been overly critical thus far.
Call me fat one more time
Is all I have to say.
I am not someone you want to mess with anymore.

This is not some "I am woman" rant.
I just want to tell these boys
That if they want to become men,
Keep it in your pants until the women in your life
Say yes.
Or until they say it meaningfully.

If you think that commenting on a lady's body,
Is going to make her fall in love with you,
Or want to ***** you,
You are sorrily mistaken.

It's actually just plain creepy.
PK Wakefield Aug 2016
loving tried sorrily a girl
to make out
of too much whiskey
something which

loves it too.
Mary E Zollars Mar 2018
When I’m with you, my being is filled with a comfort unlike anything else.
Although, these words may never leave my heart, for I fear you may think me too attached.

When I walk beside you, I wish to entangle my fingers in yours and interlock my dreary self with your optimistic light.
And although my lips may never shape this feeling to you, truth be truth, inside myself.

When I first enter that room of anxious working early in the morn, before the sun has fully risen, I wish only to fold myself into your warmth and release that which downs me.
But I do hope this longing never reaches you, so that you may never feel burdened by my love.

When we sit close, amongst the chaos, I dearly swear it that I desire to spill the darkness and gold of my ever straining, creating mind to you so that you may understand my inner worldly thoughts.
Yet I shall forever hold my tongue, to not elude you to some falscity that I may be of twisted psyche or wisdom.

When I think of us parting ways, like a goose must do to the lake to escape the ever threatening cold of winter, my heart clenches in the tensity of my overwhelming sorrow of envisioning your departure from me.
And still, never could I share with you my woes, for I hide amidst the shadow of the fear of abandonment and lonesome

And so, I shall stay silent for your love.
And so, these dwellings I do sorrily keep to myself.
Jenny Gordon Mar 2019
Even though, to my shame and chagrin I am sorrily indeed "the INCURABLE dreamer."



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCXIX)


Hark! ere I've breakfast how the cardnal'd hail
With sweetest notes, like last night's tryst fr'intents
Forgot his age-old suit.  And sparrows thence
Sing for my smiles e'en when in sheer betrayl
"The chips are down," whereat I play t'avail
By sorry halves and pray for Thy defense--
'Til lo, delivered 'gain, how we from hence
Half caper through work, happy on that scale.
Dead leaves yet skitter to the winds, astir
At their capricious touch as if the cue
Is flirting games.  Blue heavns thin clouds obscure
Leave fragile warmth to do the honours to
Effect; and though I beg for love, why's poor
To hope or think that any man would woo?

27Mar19a
*NOTE:  little known fact...44 years ago today I was 4 months old.  You're allowed to laugh now I've gien you something to chuckle over.
samira Jul 2020
Most of the time I don’t feel at home
So I just sit and think of you.

The notion of you morally keeps me secure,
but like a hollow migration of birds
you left me out of the blue.


Most of the time I don’t feel safe
so I just drop in bed,
& baby I sorrily think of you.

Most of the time I wonder why you left
I sit, give back and reflect..
Concludingly, i notice it’s cause I cold heartedly doubted you.
Kelly Sep 2021
if you think i wanted this
if you think i awoke with a desire to bring agony,
twist the knife deeper into a wound I never wanted to make
you are so sorely
and sorrily
mistaken.
everything i feel or nothing at all.

— The End —