"specialize" poems
I analyze, my whole entire world
I specialize, always in acting a fool
I socialize, but the truth trickles through
I vocalize, not wanting to undo
I internalize, everything that matters to
With surprise the ones I love
I realize, they never left my side
Then I visualize. Always believing what is right.
Mar 26, 2013
Mar 26, 2013 at 3:11 AM UTC
Hello
We haven't talked in quite some time
I know
I haven't been the best
Of sons, hello, I've been traveling in the desert of my mind
And I
Haven't found a drop
Of life
I haven't found a drop
Of you, I haven't found a drop
I haven't found a drop
Of water
Water
I try desperately to run through the sand
As I hold the water in the palm of my hand
'Cause it's all that I have and it's all that I need and
The waves of the water mean nothing to me
But I try my best and all that I can
To hold tightly onto what's left in my hand
But no matter how, how tightly I will strain
The sand will slow me down and the water will drain
I'm just being dramatic, in fact, I'm only at it again
As an addict with a pen, who's addicted to the wind
As it blows me back and forth, mindless, spineless, and pretend
Of course I'll be here again, see you tomorrow, but it's the end of today
End of my ways as a walking denial
My trial was filed as a crazy suicidal head case
But you specialize in dying, you hear me screaming "father"
And I'm lying here just crying, so wash me with your water
Water
Hello
I haven't talked in quite some time
I know
I haven't been the best
Of sons, hello, I've been traveling in the desert of my mind
And I
I haven't found a drop
Of life
I haven't found a drop
Of you
I haven't found a drop
I haven't found a drop
Of water
Songwriters: Joseph Tyler Harris
Addict with a Pen lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc
Dec 20, 2017
Dec 20, 2017 at 8:13 PM UTC
They call me Dr.Strange because I don't thrive from the same ambition as the rest of my generation
I don't desire to **** every **** thing that walks and breathes
I was never a fan of getting high and skipping school
Hell the worse I've done is beat a ngga's *** for making a girl bleed
Yeah I'm so ******* hood, badass if you would
A permant resident of wish a ***** woods
Where we specialize in the art of whoop ***
But at the same time I am kind
As gentle as a cotton ball
I will protect those who cannot protect themselves
Instead of being that coward who is left asking what if
But don't get my kindness twisted thinking you can trample all over my tiny self
Stomping me into the ******* ground as if I'm some type seed
But if you still have the urge to try me get this image in your head
I will make sure my weeded foot travels up your *** and out of your mouth
I will not be afraid to rain down the scorching sensation of the hurt all over your flesh and bones
Causing you to sprout like a god **** bean stock as I just smile walking the opposite way
It is sad ****** these days try so hard to pretend to be all bad-ass, talking so much **** I don't know whether to give them tissue or breath mint
Then what makes it even funnier they beat on these young girls thinking it makes them look tough
But in actuality it makes them look that much more of a ******* to society
**** is this really what male *** have come down to
A mere nuisance to society
A nation of fuckboys and male hoes
Is that what we are really aiming for
sigh wow I wonder what I'll have for dinner tonight
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 6:41 PM UTC
We don’t know whether every angel carries out the same tasks, or whether some of them specialize in certain areas. The Bible does speak about classes of angelic beings like cherubim (Ezekiel 1) and seraphim (Isaiah 6). We also know the names of two notable angels: Michael (Daniel 10:13; Jude 9) and Gabriel (Daniel 9:21; Luke 1:19,26).
The unnamed angels who appear most often in Scripture carry out a variety of tasks - all designed to serve God…
Worship and praise - This is the main activity portrayed in heaven (Isaiah 6:1-3; Revelation 4-5).
Messengers - They serve as messengers to communicate God’s will to men. They helped reveal the law to Moses (Acts 7:52-53), and served as the carriers of much of the material in Daniel, and Revelation.
Guiding - Angels gave instructions to Joseph about the birth of Jesus (Matthew 1-2), to the women at the tomb, to Philip (Acts 8:26), and to Cornelius (Acts 10:1-8).
Providing - God has used angels to provide physical needs such as food for Hagar (Genesis 21:17-20), Elijah (1 Kings 19:6), and Christ after His temptation (Matthew 4:11).
Protecting - Keeping God’s people out of physical danger, as in the cases of Daniel and the lions, and his three friends in the fiery furnace (Daniel 3 and 6).
Delivering - Getting God’s people out of danger once they’re in it. Angels released the apostles from prison in Acts 5, and repeated the process for Peter in Acts 12.
Strengthening and encouraging - Angels strengthened Jesus after His temptation (Matt 4:11), encouraged the apostles to keep preaching after releasing them from prison (Acts 5:19-20), and told Paul that everyone on his ship would survive the impending shipwreck (Acts 27:23-25).
Answering prayer - God often uses angels as His means of answering the prayers of His people (Daniel 9:20-24; 10:10-12; Acts 12:1-17).
Caring for believers at the moment of death. In the story of Lazarus and the rich man, we read that angels carried the spirit of Lazarus to “Abraham’s ***** when he died (Luke 16:22).
Executioners - Angels are sometimes used by God to punish sin. An angel of the Lord went forth and smote an Assyrian camp (2 Kings 19:20-34) “behold, they were all dead corpses.” The Assyrian army was annihilated. A destroying angel was sent, but later withheld, to punish David for his vanity in taking a census of the great number of his people. At the time of Moses and the Exodus, the Egyptian firstborn where killed by an angel of death.
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 12:40 AM UTC
I am living, fighting,
some even say I am surviving,
but inside I'm dying,
inside it smells of death.
Where are my flowers?
Thorns now burst,
I've lost count of the hours
spent crying, wishing for death
and being teased endlessly by it,
only to be told death
had no room for me.
I've thought about scissors
in non-artistic ways,
I've discovered that paper is
not the only thing you can cut,
I've tried teaching my lungs to breathe
Father, they give up on me
and every breath stings,
But you specialize in rebirth,
so hand me a pair of new wings.
I'm tired of fighting,
I'm tired of this war,
I'm tired of wondering what
I am here for,
I'm tired of existing this way,
I'm tired of these chains
I wear everyday.
If I am a free temple,
then why do I feel encaged?
Encaged in my own mind
where light you won't find,
locked behind bars,
wishing on stars,
begging scars to disappear,
hoping nobody witnesses my tears.
Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 10:26 AM UTC
I'm going to fly away
I've strung two diamond kites to my back as wings
And I've tracked down the winding river-like patterns of the wind
I'm going to fly away
Because my kites will have no trouble
Picking up my hollow body, empty of life and experience and substance and
everything that defines what it means to be alive, up into the sky.
I'm going to glide on the air
and slowly make a parabola as I slide down the air current like
I'm on a water slide and then curve upwards
as if I'm a rocketeer testing out the power of my engine.
I'm going to glide on the air
because my feet are too tired of carrying the weight on my shoulders.
I want to feel the weightlessness that has encompassed my heart
every time it got its hopes up and every time it was broken.
The weightlessness that my empty lungs felt as
I lurched for oxygen in the smoky air
The weightlessness that my arms felt hugging
every one of imaginary friends that never felt real enough to believe in.
I want to feel the same physical weightlessness,
yet know it carries a much different meaning than all the others,
The one you feel when things are just where you want them to be,
The small floating instant in the transition from your upward velocity running out and
your momentum building as you are suddenly falling down.
The weightlessness of balance that I have only felt in the wrong ways.
I'm going to fly away
Because as a teenager I specialize in the concept of hating
every human being out there including myself.
and yet I'm dressed in all white save for the vibrant color of my kites
because I'd rather the world paint me into what it really is instead of me
painting the world into my skewed perceptions.
I'm going to fly away
and fly so far away and for so long
that my skin will turn the color of the sky
my kites will become a part of my body
my eyes will turn into every color humankind has failed to see
and I will feel alive,
my body full of the mass of life
that has replaced the weight on my shoulders
Which tried to hold me down to walk the concrete ground,
face the gray brick walls, and breathe the misused air
I'm going to fly away,
So I will learn to catch my breath the same way a landscape will take it away,
So I will hear the raw wavelengths of our earth,
So I will reach back to the trees reaching up to me from the ground
So I will feel the air currents take me along its route to nowhere in particular,
So I will live in fantastically unimaginable ways
So that when I land again,
I will be full of weight I don't mind carrying on my shoulders.
Yes,I'm going to fly away.
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 10:43 PM UTC
I never once said I'd do it for fame
But what else do you call being a household name?
I never once implied I needed validation
But what other use do I have for recognization?
I've never once managed to specialize in a talent
Since when was focusing on a skill such a challenge?
I've never once suggested I needed any fanfare
But who would complain if the world can't help but stare?
I'd never once say I wanted to be idolized
But there's no harm in giving it a try.
This is my denial of my own motivations
I just want validification in the form of recognition.
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 9:50 PM UTC
Constructing English grammar- a hubby I would say.
Such a thing I do well.
But when it comes to a stage.
I find somethings confusing.
English spelling.... What a task!
With my writings:
Thou, I do try my best
To capture imagery with powerful words.
And to clinch my spellings along to its best.
I do wonder "How?"
Getting it right,... is it "son" or "sun," "tier" or "tear."
I often beat my senses on.
To figure which most suitable.
When it comes to writing "4."
Should I write "for" or "four"or "fore."
And spelling "handkerchief" correctly
Is so worrisome to try.
In words like "fiest" and "height."
Should I use "ei" or" ie"
Obviously, the rules are worth learning.
Since they're levelled up on standards .
There are also some silent letters.
For example; "p" in "psychology."
And" k" in" know."
As "come" ends with a "e."
How often do you notice the "y" in "day?"
Why not written as "dai?"
What of the spelling" knowledge"
Why not save us the stress and writes "nolege?"
What the stress!
Also, there are word formations.
The noun from "wise."
Is the word "wisdom."
The verb from the word "special."
Is the word "specialize."
How do I explain to my children?
The singular and plural forms of VERBS
As "writes" states the singular form
And "write" the plural form.
Why not in the reverse just like the noun forms.?
If that should be the case.
I need to learn more on the appropriate use of :
"Write" to "rite" to "right"
Wahala for who no know English Grammar.
Dec 10, 2020
Dec 10, 2020 at 10:51 AM UTC
Polar opposites.
Compare and contrast this.
Special operative.
The object is to improve your optics to specialize in her weapon diagnostics.
Or does your hard drive fold once this signal hits the note?
Beyond mission control the theory behind your thought is in the poems I wrote...
Behold her whole body turns solid gold she possesses , all knowledge know.
Are we under surveillance?
It doesn't pay for one to be careless..............
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 2:22 AM UTC
I don't know who
the next me will be,
what skin she'll be wearing,
whether she will learn to surf the waves
and not just dip her feet in them.
Will this be the year
she finally looks anxiety in
the eye and says
"You will not stop me?"
Will it be the year she finally
looks suicide in the eye and says
"You will not take me?"
My youth and her youth is slipping away
behind signatures and steering wheels,
behind money and percentages,
but these don't define her or me...
If she'll believe in herself,
throw herself into life's ride
and breathe, then she will be okay,
but if she is the harshest critic,
the most high of all perfectionists,
she might struggle.
I want to tell her that breathing
is the most beautiful thing she could
specialize in during her beautiful existence,
I want to tell her to not be terrified of the night,
and whatever lurks behind her eyelids,
It's just a dream girl, nothing more.
I want to tell her imperfection is beautiful,
I want to tell her to commit so
her life can be wonderful,
I want to tell her she wasn't raised
to howl over anyone,
I want to tell her: let them love you,
and let them leave you,
Let them hold you but
don't ever let them break you.
Nov 26, 2016
Nov 26, 2016 at 6:02 AM UTC
Artificial, yet an artisan,
Pontifically partisan,
She raised her eyes to heaven high
And chiseled my heart with steady hands
She carved her own intricate façade,
And painted her mask to earn applaud,
Beneath her father’s right-wing feathers
Brought up to pray to his decreed god
He crowned her with his finest gems
To show her off to all his friends;
Helped her gild herself with gold
An aristocratic wright in the truest sense
“But I specialize in counterfeit,”
She said, as I saw under the definite
And skillful strokes, the expert notches,
A messy sketch yearning to freely acquit
“Then be free,” I said, as she let me in
Her atelier. So I scraped from her skin
The china-doll gloss and regal glitter,
And drained her blue blood of cyan tint
She smiled—the laughter lines made cracks
Through lips of plaster and cheeks of wax
I took the gleaming jewels from her eyes,
And saw new life glimmer in rolling tear tracks
She was a tempest of color, splattered and spilled
A muse incarnate that could not be stilled,
Chaos unveiled, but beautifully alive
With soul redeemed and freedom fulfilled
Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 1:42 AM UTC
They say i’m creative as a reversed mime;thinking outta the box
my minds found a way to rehearse time while it stops the clock
tick tock
what time is it?
prison block – on some infinite minute ****
neurons firing
pew
change of management declared- archetypal hiring–whoo
“Do you specialize in living positively?”
{I can try}
“Will you try to stay away from virus compositories?”
{oh me oh my!}
I live different lives as the same people:
go to the same church with different steeples.
Question the voice from my bed; oh **** am I dead?
tryn to lift my arms, but they filled with lead
where am I going and who have i led, to wander and ponder in the land of the dead
its this chilly necropolipse; filled with empty soul ships.
I can’t get warm here and so I fear
stricken by a paralysis , caught in the mists of myr
influenced by infected cysts, sickness adhere…
better deal quik through love metamorphosis
but I kan't…..—————-says who?
great big king boo!
he haunts me and taunts me into less than mediocrity
but its simplicity, don't deal with me, simply leave and then you’ll be free
of me and my moaning, ******** and pathetic groaning
but I’m simply freeflowing,
I guess I'm like an emo chick, dip in quick , then get out of it
like a quicksand pit you’ll stick quick – I do my job a bit to legit
while you sit and feel …………………………………………
……………………………this is some straight simple ****
1+1= 2
but in my equation, I'm still left with none, no you'd think , but this ain't fun
“So leave!” I yell
“Get out of here!”
I’m lost and confused like a catholic queer
Am I sincere?
maybe
what morals appear?
when your without another and can't find your brother
simply steer clear quick!————————————————–>away from that skell *****
with his nonsensical lycrical pains
and paradoxical ego feigns
from left to up
side to side
always quik to hop
and hide n hide
non-attached….BULLSHIT!_-^-_–<>re-attache these b-r-o-k-e-n__bits& p.i.e.c.e.s
so maybe one day you’ll do better than me
Just don’t listen to way i say and get away from me
EMO thoughts brought to light
need some *** I think i might
oh wait , is this just a way for me…the pages in the journal get away from me
a psychiatrist in the pages….paid for free.
**** thanks ink, thanks journal, thanks ego and funeral
I just killed my ego , and it was the death of me.
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 1:06 PM UTC
Start to dance,
maybe my bones break.
Start to chant,
maybe my voice dies.
Start. Stop. Start. Stop.
With this wand,
I waive rust.
With this wand,
I let blood.
Start. Stop. Start.
I don't want blood.
I don't want to buff
your sword and
your armor
anymore.
I only learned
this trade
for the portal spells.
I only want to
escape.
Sep 13, 2019
Sep 13, 2019 at 4:12 PM UTC
People are quite similar, different but similar. What can happen once, can happen twice. What can happen twice can happen over and over. There's no anomaly in this sense. What I feel is happening all over the world. Perhaps, I've gotten good at spotting fake smiles because when one wears one, one learns to spot one. Check the eyes. The smile is on the mouth yet absent from the eyes. I seek for what is missing. So I study others to find my missing puzzle piece. A trial and error, for I find myself chasing the joy others are having. But after awhile, I realize that I'm just different. I react differently to stimulus provided by life. I realize that I'm stronger than how I once believed, those days I lay alone too exhausted that death sounds appealing. But to lay down with tears, I realize it's not over yet. So I look foolish and get up after thinking I couldn't take anymore. I keep walking. My desires are misleading and failure is common, but I walk anyway. And maybe it's a desire I have.. the possibility that things will get better.
People are social, they love to talk. Doesn't matter with who, even with those they dislike. Could it be to feed a need? The chocolate of social activity? I don't specialize in keeping small talk, nor a fan of it. I often hear people talk about the importance of eating and drinking well, the way of a healthy lifestyle. But shouldn't there be a class about talking well? There are naturals, but for me it's not the same. The mimickers, those who emulate the behaviour and those who do it on instinct. I, upset the balance because of my ways.
People see me and expect me to be something great. I upset their expectation and cause disappointment. I'm familiar with the term. What seems to be a long term game.
People are like fruits, I was told. Feed them well with what they need and they'll grow ripe and well.
Jun 27, 2016
Jun 27, 2016 at 3:17 AM UTC
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com
Fashionable Death Cults Then and Now
After the June 1941 German invasion of the Soviet Union and Einsatzgruppe mass shootings of civilians, the Nazis experimented with gas vans for mass killing…
-Gassing Operations | Holocaust Encyclopedia (ushmm.org)
Dozens of migrants were found dead in an abandoned big rig in San Antonio on Monday in what appears to be the deadliest human smuggling case in modern U.S. history.
-At least 50 migrants found dead inside a truck in San Antonio, officials say (cnbc.com)
We have our death vans too, not well-organized
But rolling down the American road
Unseen by our leaders in their personal jets
Flying to Frisco or maybe Cancun
Bombings and shootings on the street and in church
Job lots in hospitals, by the dozens in schools
For we too specialize in genocide
And may Moloch and Herod bless our AR-15s
If any children survive, we’ll call them Generation Something
And tell them each day how inadequate they are
Jun 28, 2022
Jun 28, 2022 at 11:05 PM UTC
There is nobody there for you, and now, there never will be. I don’t have a goodbye for you. I tried to find one, I searched really hard, but shifting through the **** made me sick. I’m well again now. I don’t have anything for you. Once I had everything. All my words were wonders and they leapt out of the sun, smiling, but you shot them down with a blood-encrusted gun. They flopped around mewling, trying to hide behind injured wings, as you sought them out and stepped on them, laughing. Dream-cruncher, word-waster, selling your sad, sick song. You specialize in nasty tastes, brutal boy, and you won’t care. Narcissist. Ego King. I don’t think you have ever loved. You would love this poem.
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 12:17 PM UTC
I have turned into something you wouldn't recognize
I've grown into someone that seems to specialize
In alienation and self-propagation
My wrists have cracked, my bones have been broken
My fingers twisted into knots, but my voice has never been spoken.
Sitting here holding hands with my mistakes
I've perceived and been deceived by many fakes
Dying again from lying again, to my family, my friends
But still refusing to give in to all your past friends' dead trends
Now I can see, from my room filled with smoke
A violent storm brewing right off the coast.
While the machine grows hungry from churning, converting sinners to saints
Aware of the skeletons, the secrets, hidden only in our deepest lakes
The darkest part of our mind, kept under lock and key
Kept hidden, kept secret, made unaware to all we see.
Jan 2, 2012
Jan 2, 2012 at 7:32 PM UTC
I specialize in lies;
I have special lies.
I am an expert in falsities,
oh, isn't that the most lovely?
I can easily take words from
very empty minds,
but cannot put a word into
a mind as active as mine.
Stealing lines from empty air
is my favorite little talent.
I can form a pretty song,
when there's seemingly nothing there.
I can sew cloth on cloth to
create a bed of thoughts.
And petals on each flower
represents the colors in your eyes.
Yes, I am a professional liar,
but I supposed that I was a writer.
It might seem outlandish,
or perhaps, kinda sad-ish,
but I can lie with words
and make you feel the feelings,
of whatever I may create.
Jun 21, 2013
Jun 21, 2013 at 6:48 PM UTC
I glanced at him
in the car ride home
we both shared the backseat
Dwindling between sobriety
and the hazy reality
just like the wine in the bottle
resting between my hands
our logic made no sense
it even gave up
As the mumbles in the car
increased so did the vibrations
in our silence
the back seat had a world of its own
Full of untold attractions
engraved mysteries only those
who specialize in none verbal communication
can decode
There it is again
that glance, he's not looking
but she lays her vision
on him, tripping through
a roller-coaster of bottled emotions
she opens her mouth, but nothing
comes out,
It's a complicated situation
that even the back seat of the car
can tell
He turned to sneak a look
she looked away
at the window, she smiles
to her self
to the thoughts that lay themselves
in front of her vision, her only vision
He slithered his hand
to journey all the way from his side
to hers, an adventure that seemed to be
the most dangerous one of all
It made it over the armrest
slowly...
She still staring outside, marveling
at what she knows, he knows
She felt a warm embrace
and entwine between her fingers
she still didn't turn yet
but she knew....
that he knew
what they
both
know
Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 3:54 AM UTC
we are cute till we are stupidly good
after that we switch on bad stuff and pretend
to do the wise guys
the world is full of beloved things
and used people
sometimes the roles are changing
to beloved people and used things
actually we are here to do and undo mistakes
not to specialize in fakes of perfection
there is no problem we are predestined to carry
after all everyone will carry his death away
you must just expect the days to see you
with their own eyes
with their suns and plants and all relatives
let them gather more and more to see you
days and nights with their wondering stars
at least a moment to see your face
just how
it is
and let them say:
woo-ow!
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 5:09 AM UTC
a Bachelor of Arts in BS
and a backer with a million dollars-
See, I had this idea of opening this new concept in restaurants.
I am calling it Rent-A-Burger.
See , we got this microchip that will wirelessly send the GPS coordinates
of the swallower to PayPal and debit their account on the first of every month. It tastes like a pickle so we save money there, also.
Then with that fortune I want to open what I call Title ****
which will specialize in loans to strippers,
they have only to give me a demonstrational lap dance for me to verify their assets.
It tickles me how so rich I will be.
I got several more ideas of expanding my empire
and getting laid.
Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 10:15 PM UTC
Will you do me a favor
There's a circus coming to town
Can you make sure that the way is clear
Of any minds that are sound
As they parade main street U.S.A.
They'll be passing out crazy ideas
Those they'll hand out to the adults
Cotton candy for all of the kids
There's even Democratic magicians
Who specialize in the slight of hand
You can watch but don't overly listen
To the blather mixed with demands
Doesn't much matter the party
Pretty much one and the same
Democrat or Republican
Same worn out clowns with different names
Hoping it takes at least 8 years
Before we're fed up with all of the lies
Then we'll put who they tell us back in
More of the same in a cheaper disguise
Oh, and the main attraction
Center ring of the double minded congressional clowns
Well have to add more rings to this circus
3 won't do this time around
And per our favorite Ring Master
Get ready for the greatest of shows
The best is yet or pure disaster
Only time and the Good Lord knows
Jan 14, 2017
Jan 14, 2017 at 8:40 AM UTC
Please stay away
I don't want you to get hurt
I specialize in giving pain
I play you like a sport
I don't want you to leave me
But I want you to survive
I don't want you to be those before you
Leaving me when you're dead inside
So I'm sorry it has to be this way
I don't wanna make you cry
Please let me make it up to you
I will let you leave without fight
I know you hate my sorries
But I will grant you one more
I'm sorry for forcing you to leave
Watch yourself as I slam the door
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 10:03 PM UTC
I felt it all the pain that comes with support
You told me you were broken and tired
I told you I know not of being broken and tired
The only absolute in my life is chemtrails
I live a life that is manufactured
I specialize in manufacturing conspiracies for a sinister purpose
I live on an island of ruins of my own make
The demons that occupy me are devour and destruction.
Plastic Backbones
Plastic Backbones
They support nothing within
Me or you
So I won't tell you lies of
Good health ,good life, above everything I can't comfort you or love you.
I degenerate when left alone for while
My ways are selfish (it's all about ME)
I demand attention day and night
So do me a favor let me drive myself Into ruins
Let me free you of my own pain ,Because my pain doesn't like being attended to
Run save yourself, don't let my eyes destruct your vision
Run , let out sighs ,grow, let HIM carry your dry bones to a new destiny island.
All I wish for you is to meet a new you
Free yourselves from the former you which is ME[Plastic Backbones]
Live your life
Live your life
As the new YOU
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 7:50 PM UTC