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"spites" poems
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, some memories haunt us to the grave---they never fade:| I put the space mere a distance and air to redeem for the desk to choke the fogging steam heavy unspoken glares of things untold a gleam nears and approaches some spites that repeat if walls at least could shout could scream lines would be spit to the ultimate some tense perched meant on bits of merged known subtles left on the bottles shaped from knuckles inherited not chuckles reds on the addicting muffles                                                                                                  ------ravenfeels
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Apr 6, 2021
Apr 6, 2021 at 7:20 PM UTC
Stop Glaring At Me
Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all; What hast thou then more than thou hadst before? No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call; All mine was thine, before thou hadst this more. Then if for my love, thou my love receivest, I cannot blame thee, for my love thou usest; But yet be blamed, if thou thy self deceivest By wilful taste of what thy self refusest. I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief, Although thou steal thee all my poverty; And yet love knows it is a greater grief To bear love’s wrong, than hate’s known injury. Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows, Kill me with spites; yet we must not be foes.
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1.5k
Sonnet 040: Take All My Loves, My Love, Yea, Take Them All
Have prayed and praised and fasted, And have done all what one knew to do. Still sick, jobless, barren or indebted, One would be wondering what anew Is to be done more, for a miracle To happen and dislodge one's obstacle. Are God's ears deaf, one may think, Reasoning if his eyes are not blind? For how could he allow one to sink In the sea of sorrow, if he is kind Indeed to every member of his creatures On earth, whom he daily nurtures? Yet, the Lord is faithful forever Despite the many spites of one's life. Though one may not now be as that feller Rich, hale and hearty, or like that nymph Heavy; yet God shall the situation turn Around. To every even, there must be a morn. He that for compassion wholly a widow's Mount of debts leveled and gave progeny To Sarah and Anna, who alone windows In heavens made and healed grave infirmity. Christ can this dead raise and cause that dry Bone to live again; no pain escapes his eye.
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Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 9:51 AM UTC
Despite the Spites of Life
A maze meant Loving You Across Space and Time Direction spites Crossroads Hello. I am here
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Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 11:25 AM UTC
Amazement
the clock spins on down time rollin on hear the dead slouch through the darkness the light yonder aint one of dawn its a burning a burning in the souls of man woman and child ever born to see what shouldn't be seen to do what shouldn't be be done man has always been this way nothing will draw a bigger crowd than the forbidden fruit than the pain of another human being than the most perverse things mankind's perverse mind can think of the clock spins on down time rollin on age of man being able to destroy himself the clock of doomsday is always five minuets to midnight they have chemical weponds in syria they have nukes in north korea aint no grave big enough aint no funeral pire hot enough for mans petty spites for mans thirst for blood we can put a man on the moon we can spend billions for a war on drugs but we dont spend a dime to stop mans fascination with his own destruction
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Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 5:12 PM UTC
aint no grave
i've watched 677 fortnights, and got bored 'til 678th came. today i might see the merry lights, dance, as it tells me it's strange name. show wonders; of depths and heights, no blunders, just spectacle or same. to clear and flush all those petty spites, watch betelgeuse get engulf with flame.
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Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 11:59 AM UTC
Beetle Juice
When the seas cry to the sky To say they've been fouled by blood, It has been said that the rain will reverse to take it away. Where it rains, I have been there. I have seen the black's glare I have learned not to care. When the ice breaks And the darkness falls in, It has been said that the ice will seal it in the unholy depths. Trapped under the ice, I have been there. I have seen the black's glare. I have learned not to care. But I brought a cover from the storm, A pick for the ice. Because I am not there. But I have been there. And the black calls me back, It glares, It's stare spites. So I must find a flame. To meet the black's sight. I have been here, There, Then, And now. And I plan to leave.
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Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
I have been there.
She spites the talk She hates the mock but I mean no harm it was a funny charm she hated the way I made words sway She found it bad Why are we so sad She laughs no more No smiles those decor its sadly funny that WE are No More
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Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 6:36 AM UTC
WE are No More
By Arcassin b & wolfspirit AB: Vanilla covered skin in different measures, Crawling over your despair, Desperation spites all in this tiny hour, Only tiny cause the little hand won't move, Watching all of the failures improve, Then in the process creates a better you, Don't move, Just stay with me, Smile for the camera, I can't tell with the blank stares, Your lack of confidence says you don't care, Cute smile with the dyed red hair, Every strand, Every second, I'm learning all your imperfections, Can you at least just wait a minute for the close-up, Every flaw, And every lesson, We usually have similar passions, WSFQ : caramel coated crossover conversions life teaching love to talk love showing life the reality daydream dilemma, my sweet inspiration social status and lowly station time ticks and tocks on the streets and in the bedrooms down the dark hall of when to the end of that tunnel where there is light oh, but wait! is that an oncoming train? is passion clashin' with the latest fashion? jump steady, rock a roller hip hop backstreets and coca cola this is where we separate the soda pop from the Hennesy.
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Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 12:49 AM UTC
Wolf Spirit & Arcassin B - "Just Stay"
The shadows bring a certain comfort That spites one to hide from the light that bares ones weaknesses and cancerous thoughts That consume and copulate And duplicate, and destroy the very depths of the mind.
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Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 2:01 AM UTC
Shadow
Love like it was brand new* Turn out the lights Just for tonight Let's forget our slights Take me in your warm arms Let me feel the heart I long for Forget the words that cut our souls apart Hold my world up one more time Turn out the lights Just for tonight Let's forget our flights tomorrow the let pain come But tonight, let that ring stand for somethin again I just want to hold you tangled up crawl up inside you one more time Turn out the lights Just for tonight Let's forget our spites Let it crash and burn in the morn but give us that chance to bring it all back Touch my soul again as if it were brand new* As clear and full of hope as the day I left heaven and fell for you
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Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 4:29 AM UTC
Untitled
I will ask, but I dare not speak; for to hear my own words would break me. Where I cannot go I send my heart; and in those places he finds not what the soul seeks. As the lofty dreamer leaps out into the grey hazed dusk I call after him; to cry out for his safe return. Treading the black waters of the devil's sea called resentment, he spites me as the tow drags him down. If ever he should return, another request like this I will not make. Treasure unfound is not worth the loss of the heart. I must ask, and be shattered by my plea.
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Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 1:01 AM UTC
At the end of things, forgiveness from the heart
I died the time when love was born. I died, you see, I died. If there's one thing that ever kills, That thing is love inside. 'Cause feelings plain and simple spent Are sane to be rejected. A thing or two to show the scar - Death in love was stated. For when was it considered true? For when, I ask, for when? That those who loved be rendered spites In view of love's content? I died, I say, I died again; The words are pale in meanings. I died deceived, misled, forsaken My heart's bound up believing.
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Jul 6, 2010
Jul 6, 2010 at 5:04 AM UTC
I Died When Love Was Born
They look strong With their concreteness. Facing every storm With an undaunted resilience. They never bow down Nor do they bend. They just carry on Like a tough hand. The passersby marvel at its beauty and stand. Ignorant of all That goes behind. Who knows what storm They fight inside. Life ticks away And it spites itself quiet. It stays strong Deceiving our eyes. It hides a story Behind its tough walls. Every house is a father. Who comforts you in its arms. And like the old man Leaves you with its rusting walls. A house isn't a house. It's a soul you never carry. And a body that You can never possibly bury.
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Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 11:51 PM UTC
Every house has a story
Turn out the lights Just for tonight Let's forget our slights Take me in your warm arms Let me feel the heart I long for Forget the words that cut our souls apart Hold my world up one more time Turn out the lights Just for tonight Let's forget our flights tomorrow the let pain come But tonight, let that ring stand for somethin again I just want to hold you tangled up crawl up inside you one more time Turn out the lights Just for tonight Let's forget our spites Let it crash and burn in the morn but give us that chance to bring it all back Touch my soul again as if it were brand new* As clear and full of hope as the day I left heaven and fell for you
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Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 10:09 PM UTC
Love like it was brand new*
I want you to know that you cannot have me. We are third-world countries apart. Our views are different; yours – passionate, mine – practical. You hear beautiful music in the noisiest place; whereas that same area disturbs me. Where you see opuntias, I see prickly spines waiting to pierce my shield of sensibility. Your sanguinity spites me, yet it resounds from within— a dreamer’s echoes in my veins. Nonetheless, you have taught me, guiding me through my self-inflicted stress. Your persistence has deprived me of pessimism, so I thank you.
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Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 11:15 PM UTC
To My Desires
I was born in 93 in a town I don't remember. A place I never see on the boarder of Luxembourg, Bitburg Germany. I was always running away. ready to explore, always something to say. Having no fear at 5, throwing tantrums when things weren't right. I've hurt, but I know my hurt doesn't compare I've struggled, but I know my struggle doesn't amount I've prayed, but I know my prayers are quiet. I've looked in the mirror, frustrated with what i see thinking that through a perfect body I would be free I've lied to myself, trying to climb to somewhere I've never been hoping to escape the reality of what was and will be I've given my heart away looked to the sky looking for refugee hoping the sky will give me peace. I've slept through pain when I felt the heart break and ache. I've had troubles breathing when my emotions take control. I breathe knowing I can breathe out hate and breathe in peace. I lost myself in another person, when i know we aren't right. I fight and I fight. I don't know whats wrong with me why I fight and he spites me. I've felt my control slip and my reason come 2nd. 20 still searching and breathing still fighting for my dreams. hoping I will live in harmony in peace..
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Feb 9, 2014
Feb 9, 2014 at 8:20 PM UTC
Untitled
"Everything has an equal and opposite reaction" Your absence spites my lungs Her beauty subverts my patience Your side-effect undermines his charm But your pain doesn't equate mine
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Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 8:58 PM UTC
Untitled
shade bleeds a velvet texture stretching far and wide strides to smother clawed hands grasping thread rip apart layers to shed bear the stains of men rise and swagger free struggle to breathe   steps in spites deceit skipping stones of jaded debris trail of tears, a sculpters need vacant rows of burdened clay broken back, bent to gather neat harvesting the last belief Terry D’Arcy-Ryan
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Sep 25, 2019
Sep 25, 2019 at 12:09 PM UTC
THE NARROW
rain here by ransomed drafts from warmer continents my space is chaffed by the hidden soil trailed from used oceans i, see a stranded twirl of stone pesce tail still magic despite miles despite age spites my eyes spites vanity bites me there. i am beguiled, so stand, as i too wear into sand
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May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 2:42 PM UTC
beached
She wants to tear us to pieces for the audacity of it all. **** us to hell, but still remain a Christian. And the rant! Each day, her rage, a lance laced in bitterness. And I can not speak to the contempt, she holds me in, for some imagined slight, loving her to exhaustion, as she screams, I know, You have something to do with this! She is brilliant in that blind way of the highly dysfunctional. She is bright colors on beautiful days, when she smiles, the room to dreamy notes of yellow sun. Some days she takes down, bleary notations in her diary. Get the hell out of here...buy cat food...eat fruit. Some days she writes long articles, to the institutions of oil, sharply upbraiding & filled with wisdom. Today she is a small branch, gnarled in a rib hug. She has misplaced something that she believes was stolen. She claims the devil spites her mind, but she is too smart to listen. An old acquaintance drops by with cupcakes. She opens the door and greets them, in perfect intelligence.
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Nov 25, 2018
Nov 25, 2018 at 6:41 AM UTC
Bi - Polar Wars
Pain, the wrinkles of the heart, Masks of sadden faces, Moaning the souls within To fight battles invisible Building that to be pulled down, And owning that which never was I call it brokenness, A shattered mirror reflecting, Pieces of our tattered spirits We choke on our own tears, Drowning in pools of laughter By angry faces that wish to burry us So, tonight, our eyes shall then shut, Our minds replaying their wicked smiles, And our ears looped on their spites For the battle is lost, A blackened sun behind veils of sorrow Sold into chains of our enemies
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Jul 15, 2016
Jul 15, 2016 at 1:07 PM UTC
devoured
There's nothing left to heal though most of pathetic anixety feel no longer love would be rotten quite after you betray. all i do is screm to myself Everything, Doing everything I can, It's all about part of my pride... but, i hate to say I'm proud still i say, do you hear my echo aloud... Which type of mesh is it? too much lye between in pain, nobody beware it's vain. for these pleasure SCARS, i never ment to spites... i went out of my insane heart felts torn apart too much bad at goodbye... Need to take off "circumstances" wishing for time machine to change the past of we yet it hasn't built... no magician can do or so do i shut up? god ! -clean up all the mess "Lit, the flower Dare to expell the fake, SHE'LL back with the asthethic face"
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Jul 8, 2019
Jul 8, 2019 at 3:22 PM UTC
scars
Walking in my shoes. Is only selfishness. With a foot that, Fallows Failure. Flotsam too and fro. For now I. Am only past, and weary Crucible. For You my friends, outstretched Your hands. Which I did swipe away. When ever you would stand with me. To draw me too the light. For with your hands. Did find me Led. Me, throughout​ the night. And such of this, A heart of stone. That turns all hearts to Lead Finds i built A chilly home. With winds to reck And waste away For I did swear to hate And then too​ this My road of Vice Forever on my own. With a heart Of stone With a heart of ice. Devined  of the furies As liberties alite. To give up truths Tributes all And all my little spites.
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Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 7:25 PM UTC
Stone heart.