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Jordan Rowan Aug 2015
I'm leaving tomorrow
But I'm staying today
Before the dawn
I'll be gone away
No one watches me walk away
I'm leaving tomorrow
But I'm staying today

I've put myself
In the shape I'm in
My head is heavy
And my body's thin
Will someone please let me in?
I'm leaving tomorrow
But I'm staying today

I'm wearing rags
In sleeping bags
I'm drinking coffee
With homeless hags
I don't mean to be a drag
I'll be leaving tomorrow
Can I stay the day?
Please don't throw me away
Donna Oct 4
Ignore people who
put you down , stay positive
and enjoy your life
** ❤️❤️
Sharon Talbot Sep 2017
How many heroes have chosen this path,
Of least or no resistance?
In the face of overwhelming odds,
Or staring at cubicular, corporate submission;
Elect instead the stance
Of simply
Doing
Nothing?

Victorian ladies thought it amusing;
20th Century Centurions and Puritans condemned it.
The spoon-fed rich live it and lose nothing.
Russian aristocrats sometimes recommend it…
When spurned in love & up against it.

Oblomov, for instance, whiled his time away,
In bed, or staring out at the wood,
Writing meaningless letters and ignoring the day,
Yet it still did him some good.

Marat in his bathtub, Proust in his bed,
Still accomplished SOMETHING
Or we’d have forgotten them instead.
Is there still no virtue in doing nothing?

Against the tide of corporate work,
Aquarians rebelled with dance.
Later on, Generation X
Came to work in a greedy trance.

Peter Gibbons was hypnotized,
To escape his lifeless job,
Destroyed the office as it was downsized,
But was promoted by “the Bobs”.

Some lesson there, for those who strive,
That work alone is not enough.
Attitude is more important to our lives,
That revolt by nothingness is not that tough.

Abbie Hoffman was thrown through windows,
While preaching peace instead of wrath.
Despite nobility of cause, does humanity still go,
The inexorable way of sloth?

Sharon Talbot
Someone criticized me for my tendency to do nothing other than stare out the window, yet is that so bad? It renews my soul. Ideas often congeal out of the air! There is a reason so many paintings of women lounging are entitled "Dolce far niente", isn't there?
Sky Yang Mar 2018
Queens is home
the Bronx is school
and the city is where I go to die, I declared to my friends.
There’s more to lose than just your wallet and virginity in that city,
it’s a world where
hot, tight, smelly underground ******* beat
faster than human hearts, and
truer than true love.
Dennis Willis Jun 14
Staying up late
watching
Channel has moved

This is a peaceful
story
about a unique
Stream of electrons
that have ventured
to parts unknown

Oh the angst
And anticipation

I don't know and
I worry
how it's going
for them

I wonder
if it doesn't work out
Will they come back
I can't
turn away
Tomorrow never comes
Today is always yesterday
Time is forever on the run
Becoming lost; Wasting away

Surrounded by the void
But darkness not why I am rattled
From this question, can't avoid
Do I belong amongst the shadows?

Back and forward I will peer
While staying blind to what's ahead
I am engulfed and filled with fear
Unsure what's real or in my head
Written: June 10, 2018

All rights reserved.
Justan Rahming Sep 2018
unrealized movements
inside of one's own head–
quaking knees and twitching hands
sitting slouched and rocking

Spine starts to slide–
relief is but a brief afterthought
as the proper gesture arises
the soles are unearthed

Starting to move as if it can stand
Its inevitable move forward

Get up, time to go
L Sep 2018
You think youve won
Youve got it all
Finally;
It all makes sense.
All of the pain,
The struggle,
The hopelessness--
It all led up to what you thought
Was your reward
For staying strong
For keeping on
Keeping on.

And now,
Things are in pieces again.
Nothing makes sense
Again.
Just like that
Gone.
****.
Goodbye
Bliss.

Im sorry
That i didnt cherish you when i had you.
Im sorry
That your wife is ***
And that your girlfriend is a free bird.
Lol this ones for you.

You know who you are.
Jordan Rowan Dec 2015
I'm tired of taking off my own belt
I'm tired of feeling what I've felt
I'm tired of giving up so easy
I'm tired of no one trying to see me
I'm tired of complaining and whining
I'm tired of the wanting and pining
I'm tired of sleeping all alone
I'm tired of staying at home
I'm tired of listening my thoughts
I'm tired of everything I've got
I'm tired of staring on the mirror
I'm tired of trying to wipe it clear
I'm tired of silent, early mornings
I'm tired of romantically mourning
I'm tired of my ever-drying lips
I'm tired of my calloused fingertips
I'm tired of listening to happy people
I'm tired of being frail and feeble
I'm tired of being alone
I'm tired of being alone
mariano aponte Jan 2016
Misconceptions
Fasley smiles
Psychoanalyzed  

Could it be my OCDish

Would they agree or disagree
Respectfully  - with no referee

Whatever matter  - It doesn’t

Let it be
I’m carefree
It’s the best defense
Not a draftee

A perfectionist I am
It stems from many forces
My moral sense
At any expense
Not remorses

Their sweet jabs
From the start
Yes
From day one

Like Mr. Shukar - they see
I'm the new prospect

My disposition in scrutiny
As I take in with fluency
No unity
Let it be

I’ll take it in my dome
Its my best cover
Not styrofoam
I'll take it whichever way it's thrown

Please...

Pass the twisted news along
I continue staying strong
Detail-oriented is my syndrome
Skyla Jul 27
1.Pain is temporary, if you give up now, it’ll last forever

2. You don’t drown by falling into the water, you drown by staying there

3. If your ship doesn’t come in to you, swim out to meet it

4. The greatest limitations of life are the ones we put on ourselves.  

5. Never confuse a few defeats for a final defeat

6.  Staying alive is the greatest revenge to spite depression and people

7.  What if you were a survivor? Rather than another tragic statistic

8.  Imagine your loved one being haunted by finding you in such a state


Bonus:  If you are strong enough to be capable of killing yourself, then you are strong enough to live. ~
Daniel Dec 2018
I have never thanked you,
for the conversations.

I have never thanked you,
for the smile.

I have never thanked you,
for asking me how i'm really doing.

I have never thanked you,
for staying alive.

Thank you,
thank you.
kyleigh g Feb 2018
constant paranoia
sleepless nights
bustling hospital halls

trust me
this is nothing less than horrific
after attempting to end it all

"take me home"
i whisper to no one
through my silent tears

staying in a psych ward
for just one week
felt like several years

all i can do
is worry
about if anyone will care

i think they believe
that they would be better off
if i was no longer there

my week in the hospital
was heart-wrenchingly
bleak

everyone says
it made me stronger
but i feel immensely weak
i apologize for pouring my heart out. but it's very therapeutic.
Rob Rutledge Aug 2014
Staying up late, so late it's early
Then dreaming long and far.
"Come on, get up you're missing the sun!"
"Ah! But I see so much more of the stars!"
AIA Nov 2015
Sorry
For texting you, for bugging you,
for annoying you.
for thinking of you day and night.
by being clingy and possessive.
for staying by your side every time you push me away.
Sorry I get worried about you.
for needing your attention,
for being needy to you.
Sorry for loving you.
I'm very sorry... I can't unlove you.
Get your finery on and let the games begin,
Does it look like you'd trust him?
Blackout suit, purple shirt,
Crimson tie, dangerous eyes.
Sly, slick, sardonic and wicked
wearing a gentlemanly disguise.

The dinner was alright
now get ready to fight.
White powder on the counter,
A dusted card and a rolled-up fiver.
Finish up your line
and get out there.

Codine chills, calm is instilled,
Colorful lights, relaxed thrills.

No chats so I'll settle for that.

A while later
and we're back in black. Hometown
beatdown.
Lets get completely smashed;
Go hard or go home.

Messy nights never get old,
River of glass across a broken road.
Tonic wine is best served cold, though
the medicinal properties remain unknown.
A bottle of B from Buckfast Abby, they always
blame it on the buckie, infernal commotion lotion with its cough-syrupy sweet nectar.

Just the end of another debutante night,
Staying classy while we drink and fight.
Making hedonistic debauchery stylish
'cause we're Irish.
His army perched above in trees,
Watching the front become a feast,
Who wins, care not, in the least?

"The cawing clan of Koronos..."

The thousands black they view the fight,
Staying late for supper -feeding at night...
Picking tender morsels in illumed moon-light,

"Swarthy minions of King Koronos!"

Corvid follow Man wherever he may go,
Feathery tomes of knowledge their treasure trove,
The messengers in the House of Jove...

"His static barbizon Aves; Koronos!"

There are many kings who come and go,
Becoming part and parcel in a wicked show,
But none of them will ever match the Crow...

"Engrosser of the dead; Koronos!"
Koronos is a king from the pseudo-historical Hercules accounts by Appollodorus and Pausanias. His name means, "Crow," in Greek. With the title this piece contains 96 words and two types of verse; rhyming verse and verse. Adding the metered count by line number you get 6, 7, 7, 8, and 20 or 48 times two types of verse; 96. So the metered count works two ways as the Greek and Hebrew mystics intended. The Greeks doublet'd coronae with the Celtic Kornus. The Greeks may be word-playing off Coronae saying that the King does anything and everything that is seen as good and bad?
patty m Feb 2015
Silly fools,
touching the planchette
as it invades the haunts of spirits and demons
their dangerous interaction
pointing to blackened letters
or the answers yes or no.

Open gateway something relentless creeps to the surface
unbeknownst to anyone.  
Do they think this is a game, this summoning?

Bluesman, playing his guitar
sings about a shadowy man
on a dark road and the bargains he makes.
Moonless skies and rumbling trains
a strange twisting in guts
as a crows caw spreading shiny wings.

Shadows, the long road is filled with shadow,
filigreed limbs darkening fleeting time and the trains with
their black smoky smudge muffling secrets.

A strange man turns up, like a carney in a traveling show
to show us a frightening future.
Spreading prophesies of horrible events along with the demise of millions, with demons gnawing human flesh.
Then too there was the promise of the dead rising;
exhumed bodies, an army of zombies marching.

Old men smoke their cigarettes, lungs crackling
in phlegmy coughs, rheumy eyes filled with pain
as they watch the children **** in frenzied dance
their heads spinning clockwise. . .  
The train chugs off in the distance
as the last illusion crumbles into a dark and rotting hole.

We no longer see the stranger.
as the song comes to an end,
yet disquieting things skitter on the edge of reason
as they slither through our fear.
Up ahead looms a fiery god staying
trajectories of doom and damnation,
while the Bluesman strums his old guitar
on a ghost train going nowhere.
Bryan Lunsford Apr 2018
With one month–two months–three months–and then four,
As I'd say it was about the fifth month that I just couldn't take it any more,
Because with thoughts of a woman's departure leaving my mind to feel torn,
I sit here trying not to cry with these tears continuously hitting the floor,
Where I sit here in a dark room that I don't want to sit in anymore, I continue to write about this woman that consumes everything within my universe,
With her possessing a soothing beauty that I adore and with such grace that could never be ignored,
She simply is the most amazing woman that I've ever met before,
And that's why I'll be here all alone, forevermore, just wishing I could hear her say one last and final word,
Though, as I've been ignored, and with her staying miles and miles away,
I've slowly began to lose more and more of my faith, where I have been sleeping most of the days away,
Because only in my dreams do I ever get to see her face, but tonight I won't be able to sleep and will be wide awake,
As I'll be writing all day and night with her on my brain, with today being the anniversary of the sixth month that she's been away
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
This is not, a time to loosen up
Or nine to five job to give up
Just saddle up the power is in you
Five ladies cafe to dine at five and
drove_* the meter is running
(The Canadian Cup) team versus the
     Taxi Cup
He swooned you in your
Five dreamy but half heart sugars
Come on Baby bloomers
Let's see some boom!!

In your hips men will be men taking
frequent flyer trips temptation 1 2345
We need fewer digs one love teo reasons
World  345  heart flags
We don't have to cross our hearts
Perhaps tattoo heart legs no more strikes
Jumping Jack flash
What a rope in this isn't the Pope

Somehow we all get broke
To court her like your the lasso
stars cosmos hearts like Lassie
Never a change of subject how it
remains in your heart how it hit hard
to react but changed to five cards
Digging too long  lucky 777 like heaven
Heart digs

1-where?
Oh! There

No, I am here
We are always  
In-between
numbers_ I only
have 5 minutes
No I phone have a heart
Oh! where is designed for me
Those five plates

Whats in between them
      *Him

We are opening Live- Five
Strong heart to give the caring
The useful heart is never so daring
My gate* Girls are nail digging
Hugging

Or losing add +

Flirty
*****
Our community
Heftier like Jupiter
Heart to build
the gravity
A big kiss hunch
of five roses

Your getting to bloom
but only have
5 extra movie parts
The front dress mermaid tail
Your heart delicate hands
opened up your emails
I think you hit the
Jackpot

Max to the million shot
No heart of gold
Only more leaders
Scrambling and digging
your fork
Mixing those egg beaters

Five men think they know
there women
like ten
commandments
Turn to five wrong
engagements
There it goes the lucky
five arguments

A plot beating
like a hot-shot
The French Baguette
Bread 9 to 5 firecracker
Five-carat baguette
wedding band in her safe
Heart digs to five hands
Heart neck guilty as a giraffe

The cafe house had only
5 cups left  they sold you out
Only Five Bed and breakfast
stayers
Do detailed with their Ladyfingers
But need more alone time
Be on time get sweet key lime
What is real-time so sublime

That rose- paper cut- origami
Sorcerer of five he was like the
cold cuts of big Sub Salami
Japanese sword samurai
What a Geronimo Oh! no
Jericho
This wasn't a hot potato

Or Gizmo No-Go
Getting a shot for Polio
The gusto songs to the heart play
Maestro the Cosmo's
The five stars to heart his
afterglow
Like a titanic ship but heroics

Five lunatics wedding horns ******
Five two timer Mario gamers
so demonic
DOMINO'S bed five students wed
We dug deeper get-up sleepy-head
Exposed cries location set
Network U- dig cups

Something lip curved
He misplaced my lips
What did he do in exchange
More stocks and hard stone rocks
Like frying pan egg
scrambled words

Crossed heart Rapper so believing
The Fox five sticking tacky glue
His CD Rose lying pants no clue
Painful pointed shoes need R&R
     Robin's *Responsibilities
       The Heart On Replay
The deeper you dig to restart

The healthy organically grown brain
Men on Pause I truly believe nature
takes its course
but another beat to go is that so?
And if so heart digs to five
Feel the good vibe in another tribe
Five times I had to wake you up
I am the love cure reminiscing

Giving me five reasons
Our beautiful change of
heart in season

Studying the fine art heart
Referencing
Never refusing thats life
five-step to strive nothing
Fancy

Robin shoutbox she getting
her point across
Either you're the worker or loner
The heart pleaser the boss
Your heart looks good
on your dress
Whether we win or deep mess
The good heart can change to
a bad start

Recharge your heart count to five
Venus- beauty moved on like a
pathologist digging over staying alive
The hearts what digs this is not the 9-5 workers we are talkers
and long settling in heart walkers come any join me we may actually be alive did I get a live one
Luz Hanaii Aug 2018
There are those that when helped will be grateful and learn to do for themselves.
Yet there are others, who will take you for granted, thinking it’s your duty to bail them out.

Sometimes walking away is not being selfish nor cowardly, but having the intelligence to walk away.

Walking away can be hard, but staying to suffer is harder.

“”When I kept “turning the other cheek” things never changed, only got worst, until I finally walked away.””

Part of having wisdom is knowing when enough is enough.

Some people and things can never be explained, nor should you waste your time trying to figure them out,  just walk away.

In letting go you find yourself. True love doesn’t always mean staying, but being able to let go.

Remember:
Anybody can say, “I love you!” but few can prove it.
Learn to also love yourself.
The most painful lessons, are the ones that eventually will brings us the greatest joys.
You’re an extension of me, little lion
Voice, soft and ever-flowing like your
frizzy, unkempt mane
You once had trouble roaring like I do,
when you were a cub
Heard a fragile roar, one that
broke my heart into happy tears

You’re an extension of me, little lion
Character, resilient and galvanizing like
your aspirations, never-ending
You once had trouble staying strong with
your claws of positive voices,
when you were a cub
Heard a decree of triumph, one
that lifted my spirits beyond happy tears

You’re an extension of me, little lion
Voice, impactful and ever-confident
like your beautiful, voluminous mane



Melody
3/4/19
We are the physical embodiments of our parents.
I keep feeling like I'm sombody else,
every time I reflect on myself.
I know I stay true to my inner being,
but I'm always
compelled to be a better me.
While never losing
what I've learned before,
I keep it similar to what ones adore.
Is this what I want and even more?
Or is it a facade I tend to abhor?
Am I completly there?
Am I even me?
That's what people think
it's not what I see.
I've loved
and lived
this life gone by,
but now i have the need to actually try.
To become the way,
I knew that I would,
while staying true,
to doing good.
I create my day
and tend to say,
that I live life,
in most interesting ways.
Staying spontaneous,
keeping unique.
By realizing that,
I'm merely one of the meek.
Is there any life I'd rather seek?
Or is my existence completely freak?
Am I all that one's made out to be?
Or am I blind to what others see?
No reason to care,
for they matter not.
For most lose themselves,
their true self forgot...
ryn Feb 2015
.
•they'd               
come at night•               
these footsteps are               
never light• always                    
heavy and running ar-                      
ound•...they are annoy-                        
ingly creepy..., these aw-                       
ful sounds•every night,                          
after eleven without                        
fail•into rooms,                        

us they would                        
tail• making a                        
din overhead                        
•when all                        
                         should
                        be quiet inste-
                         ad•like barefooted
                          children i would ***-
                          ume...•wandering and
                          exploring into every ro-
                           om•...could they come
                            wilfully•from the cou-
                                ple who live above
                            me•i very much

                             doubt so•bec-
                             ause this much
                             i know...•that
                             the neigh-

bour up-                    
stairs, they're                        
old•frail and meek;                            
never bold•they'd re-                            
tire early•after late, ne-                            
ver a party•now... there                            
the feet go again•drivi-                            
ng me almost insane•                            
on my ceiling now,                            
they're pacing•                        

they know i kn-                        
ow and they are                        
playing•these                        
invisible                        
                        feet•ne-
                        ver would we
                            meet•one thing for
                           sure•this is not a friv-
                            olous tour•determined
                            to tell•that they exist
                              as well•nothing i'm
                               certain but it is clear
                               •i think they really
                              like it here...•

                              •i don't think
                               they're leavi-
                              ng•they're
                 ­              bent on


staying...
.
I live in an apartment on the 2nd storey. My family and I would hear these footsteps every night.

Initially we would dismiss it to be the neighbour living upstairs but that became very improbable simply because the couple who lives above us are far too old to be jumping and skipping in the wee hours...

We have tried ignoring the sounds but they would intensify. We'd hear intentional heavy footsteps, running, jumping between rooms but most of the time they would follow us to whichever room we're in.

Lately these sounds had progressed to rapping on the concrete walls in my bedroom. I could hear them as I lay in bed knocking and tapping on the wall by me.

The thing is... I live in a corner apartment and beyond that wall is the exterior of the building... There is no way anyone could be on the opposite side of that wall...

Creepy much?
.
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