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"steels" poems
Society is a prison. It traps you in And steals your freedoms. Makes you conform. Until you are normal. So why don't we escape? Because we are afraid. Afraid of being alone. Loneliness rots the mind It steels the heart. We all decided Being trapped together Is better than to be free Alone.
0
Jul 7, 2019
Jul 7, 2019 at 4:18 AM UTC
Escape
Light train chugging, working to outrun Over exerting, pulling along your freight Sand is running out under the diminishing sun Fastidiously you tug on your enormous weight Segmented equal in seven hulking proportions Weaving between sleeping rocky giants Assertion in your drive gifted from the high heavens Borne of light your cargo load of tenants Silver blurred rays glinting back as reply As you power your way through Defying seconds, before the last rays should die Against odds, delivering what is due Questing to alleviate my inflicted darkness Spear of brilliance slicing through my mind Illuminating the farthest and tiniest of crevices Nook and crannies that willed me blind Careful manoeuvring to keep your balance Through scenic views fraught with treachery Furiously working to keep your cadence Hopeful of unloading the load you carry What lies dormant in that cargo of yours? What sleeps easy within those boxcars? What stokes the fire to diligently run your course? What promises you bear, travelling near and far? Bales of hope and crates of strength Supplies of kindness and self-worth Reside within your immense length Intact and lay quiet within your formidable girth Reliant on the light that fuels and feeds Your axles seem tireless guiding forth those wheels Thundering over land with the power of a thousand steeds Armed to your teeth with alloys and steels Expelling grit and dirt as you pummelled across Grey-white fumes, shoot up to the sky Flag flogged by wind, billow and toss Blaring your whistle as you race on by Propelling forward, horizon up ahead There it is...in all its tenebrous glory Darkened locomotive seething mad with dread Brace for the clash and the loads the two carry
0
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 8:03 AM UTC
Light Train (II)
Light train chugging, working to outrun Over exerting, pulling along your freight Sand is running out under the diminishing sun Fastidiously you tug on your enormous weight Segmented equal in seven hulking proportions Weaving between sleeping rocky giants Assertion in your drive gifted from the high heavens Borne of light your cargo load of tenants Silver blurred rays glinting back as reply As you power your way through Defying seconds, before the last rays should die Against odds, delivering what is due Questing to alleviate my inflicted darkness Spear of brilliance slicing through my mind Illuminating the farthest and tiniest of crevices Nook and crannies that willed me blind Careful manoeuvring to keep your balance Through scenic views fraught with treachery Furiously working to keep your cadence Hopeful of unloading the load you carry What lies dormant in that cargo of yours? What sleeps easy within those boxcars? What stokes the fire to diligently run your course? What promises you bear, travelling near and far? Bales of hope and crates of strength Supplies of kindness and self-worth Reside within your immense length Intact and lay quiet within your formidable girth Reliant on the light that fuels and feeds Your axles seem tireless guiding forth those wheels Thundering over land with the power of a thousand steeds Armed to your teeth with alloys and steels Expelling grit and dirt as you pummelled across Grey-white fumes, shoot up to the sky Flag flogged by wind, billow and toss Blaring your whistle as you race on by Propelling forward, horizon up ahead There it is...in all its tenebrous glory Darkened locomotive seething mad with dread Brace for the clash and the loads the two carry
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40
a man is born with a ***** testicles, and various other masculine equipment and tendencies. a Man lives by a masculine code that revolves around the physical, the mental, and the spiritual. a Man is committed to himself above all else. this may sound selfish, but it isn't. a Man not only puts himself on high, but connects himself mind, body, and soul to the physical, mental, and the spiritual. everything that he connects to himself becomes himself. a Man does not distinguish between the his own flesh and the flesh of his children. a Man does not distinguish between his mind and the mind's of those in his inner circle. a Man does not distinguish between his will and the will of his god. a Man is power. he is the generator. those that he has allowed to plug into his world are empowered by him. they come into his presence and feel better for it. a Man changes lives. a Man understands the trinity of justice, mercy, and charity. a Man is not afraid to give to those as they deserve. he looks with fair eyes and does not slow his hand or slow its speed. a Man is not cold enough to be alien to compassion. he can see to the heart of matters and look past the easy answers. when others will marvel at his wisdom and praise his mercy. he will only think 'as it should be'. a Man is not without the ability to go beyond. he can look to the future. help those that need it, sometimes before they need it. anticipation and preparedness are the weapons of the Man. stoic strength is his shield. a Man is not without weakness. he understands his weaknesses, but is not victim to them. he may succumb to them, but as a master of justice, he steels himself for the price he must pay. weakness must be addressed and turned to strength. as a Man fears, he must stand up and face it. as a Man despairs, he must turn it aside. when a Man fails, all that have plugged into his power will fail. when a Man falls, families, nations, societies fall. when a Man falls, it is the duty of another Man to come to his aid. when Men stop aiding Men, they merely become men with penises and various other masculine equipment and tendencies. The Man is a Man that all other Men fear and long to be. He is the one that Men plug into. Some Men see that as a sign of weakness and rebel, but The Man signs paychecks and feeds families. who will topple The Man?
0
Jun 19, 2010
Jun 19, 2010 at 6:21 PM UTC
definition of a man
a man is born with a ***** testicles, and various other masculine equipment and tendencies. a Man lives by a masculine code that revolves around the physical, the mental, and the spiritual. a Man is committed to himself above all else. this may sound selfish, but it isn't. a Man not only puts himself on high, but connects himself mind, body, and soul to the physical, mental, and the spiritual. everything that he connects to himself becomes himself. a Man does not distinguish between the his own flesh and the flesh of his children. a Man does not distinguish between his mind and the mind's of those in his inner circle. a Man does not distinguish between his will and the will of his god. a Man is power. he is the generator. those that he has allowed to plug into his world are empowered by him. they come into his presence and feel better for it. a Man changes lives. a Man understands the trinity of justice, mercy, and charity. a Man is not afraid to give to those as they deserve. he looks with fair eyes and does not slow his hand or slow its speed. a Man is not cold enough to be alien to compassion. he can see to the heart of matters and look past the easy answers. when others will marvel at his wisdom and praise his mercy. he will only think 'as it should be'. a Man is not without the ability to go beyond. he can look to the future. help those that need it, sometimes before they need it. anticipation and preparedness are the weapons of the Man. stoic strength is his shield. a Man is not without weakness. he understands his weaknesses, but is not victim to them. he may succumb to them, but as a master of justice, he steels himself for the price he must pay. weakness must be addressed and turned to strength. as a Man fears, he must stand up and face it. as a Man despairs, he must turn it aside. when a Man fails, all that have plugged into his power will fail. when a Man falls, families, nations, societies fall. when a Man falls, it is the duty of another Man to come to his aid. when Men stop aiding Men, they merely become men with penises and various other masculine equipment and tendencies. The Man is a Man that all other Men fear and long to be. He is the one that Men plug into. Some Men see that as a sign of weakness and rebel, but The Man signs paychecks and feeds families. who will topple The Man?
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3
Here neatly side by side these rotted steels Cancerous rust peeled off paints lay idle Progress put halt these **** grown wheels The sad pale ghosts of once was tireless angels In unknown graveyard of ambulances There's silence. But whistling birds in a tree Not like sirens blared heard far distances Cut through traffic like ships divide the sea Wings on fire ferrying perilous load Sick and dying dire need to hospital Mother's in labour mishap on the road Saviour of lives young, old and critical Where mankind employs, mankind destroys Hollowed vans left to whims like broken toys.
0
Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 9:01 PM UTC
Sonnet; Graveyard Of Ambulances
January 19, 2017 The sword of Damocles hangs tense in the American night as a nation steels itself, My friends stick to their guns, my enemies do the same, and there's all these children who don't know which side of a border they'll end up on when the dust settles, there's all these trees down south who never asked to feel the weight of bodies on their branches, there's all these people talking in circles and there's nothing but doom on the television, Dr. King, I think of you this night, three days following the holiday they pinned to your corpse like a participation ribbon, I think of what they've done to you, Dr. King, they murdered you, they dissolved you in bleach, they rewrote your history and their mouths defile you to this day Dr. King, I want you to know there are parts of you that cannot be stripped away, Two hundred fifty thousand raised voices, five hundred thousand raised hands, Countless bodies in the street, countless jail sentences, countless tears shed in pursuit of a dream Dr. King, they tried to tell me your dream was of peace, but it's always been about freedom Dr. King, I know you would understand what must be done in the pursuit of freedom Dr. King, you knew that nonviolence could only work until they came for your blood Dr. King, you knew one day you'd have to strike back but they never gave you the chance Dr. King, they come for the blood of your brothers and sisters today Dr. King, they put words in your corpses mouth and teach it to dance, Dr. King, they will claim you no longer Dr. King, your chains will be broken, Dr. King, one day, you will be free at last, Glory glory, hallelujah, free at last
0
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 2:01 AM UTC
Elegy for Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. ending in a dancing corpse and the breaking of chains
January 19, 2017 The sword of Damocles hangs tense in the American night as a nation steels itself, My friends stick to their guns, my enemies do the same, and there's all these children who don't know which side of a border they'll end up on when the dust settles, there's all these trees down south who never asked to feel the weight of bodies on their branches, there's all these people talking in circles and there's nothing but doom on the television, Dr. King, I think of you this night, three days following the holiday they pinned to your corpse like a participation ribbon, I think of what they've done to you, Dr. King, they murdered you, they dissolved you in bleach, they rewrote your history and their mouths defile you to this day Dr. King, I want you to know there are parts of you that cannot be stripped away, Two hundred fifty thousand raised voices, five hundred thousand raised hands, Countless bodies in the street, countless jail sentences, countless tears shed in pursuit of a dream Dr. King, they tried to tell me your dream was of peace, but it's always been about freedom Dr. King, I know you would understand what must be done in the pursuit of freedom Dr. King, you knew that nonviolence could only work until they came for your blood Dr. King, you knew one day you'd have to strike back but they never gave you the chance Dr. King, they come for the blood of your brothers and sisters today Dr. King, they put words in your corpses mouth and teach it to dance, Dr. King, they will claim you no longer Dr. King, your chains will be broken, Dr. King, one day, you will be free at last, Glory glory, hallelujah, free at last
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18
Over and back, the long waves crawl and track the sand with foam; night darkens, and the sea takes on that desperate tone of dark that wives put on when all their love is done. Over and back, the tangled thread falls slack, over and up and on; over and all is sewn; now while I bind the end, I wish some fiery friend would sweep impetuously these fingers from the loom. My weary thoughts play traitor to my soul, just as the toil is over; swift while the woof is whole, turn now, my spirit, swift, and tear the pattern there, the flowers so deftly wrought, the borders of sea blue, the sea-blue coast of home. The web was over-fair, that web of pictures there, enchantments that I thought he had, that I had lost; weaving his happiness within the stitching frame, weaving his fire and frame, I thought my work was done, I prayed that only one of those that I had spurned might stoop and conquer this long waiting with a kiss. But each time that I see my work so beautifully inwoven and would keep the picture and the whole, Athene steels my soul. Slanting across my brain, I see as shafts of rain his chariot and his shafts, I see the arrows fall, I see the lord who moves like Hector lord of love, I see him matched with fair bright rivals, and I see those lesser rivals flee.
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2.5k
At Ithaca
Two inches was the measure, of young Stevies blunder, Digging out concrete, not knowing whats under. He felt a nugget, that wouldn't yield to the Pick, So he used the Jack-Hammer, until he got that "kick". Caught fire on the spot, looked at me, shocked, Died in flames, got a days pay docked. Cut the main cable, Fifty millimetres, metric, I know you hate to ask, but Friends aren't Electric. Dennis stepped back, pleased with his graft, Fell two hundred foot, down an unguarded shaft. Been on the Grinder, cutting out steels, So the Elevator boys could fix , their cogs and their wheels. Never said a word, no shout or no fuss, Dennis died like he lived, just one of us. Me and Baz on a roof, we knew was asbestos, Brittle like toffee, temperamental as Kate Moss, Had no crawling boards, so we tip-toed like burglars, Clinging on tightly, think Ivy on Pergola's. I heard the crack, leapt to the hip-tile, Baz clawed and scraped, resistance was futile. They spread out the sand, where Baz hit the deck, To mop up the blood, from a broken neck. Health and safety, if's and but's, Shoddy workmanship, taking short-cuts. We have no say, we try our best, Hard hats, harder boots and high-visibility vests, Are all that we leave, not Time-Shares or Merc's, Just daughters in tears, Dads not home from work.
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Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 11:03 AM UTC
Death of a Tradesman
How long woman is wild when she is alone? How far woman can reach without her soulmate? How quick woman can fall in her endless waiting! How fun woman can die if she is alone in big house! How strong woman can fight looking her husband die? How big woman can dream if her husband is not rich? Which wills woman can have if her husband is poor? Which knot can win woman to unknot if her husband is bleeding? Which well can be nearly for widowed **** woman? Which well can be so far for kind widowed woman? Which heart woman can have if her children are prisoned? Which decision woman can take if prison guard needs her to ler her kids get out of steels? How fun is man thinking he owns her wife's heart! What happens when he is died so? After understanding all that I asked my mind grandpa, how dare she talks women in that way he told me "all women not like that" and again " non kind hearted woman Are married with Sky"
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Nov 1, 2021
Nov 1, 2021 at 8:40 PM UTC
Woman of sky
All estuaries flow eastbound, and the subterranean rail tracks keep forcing against the estuaries’ grain and dust foundations perpendicularly to them. How can a sane proposition -- a quantification of syntax execution (those squirming cuticles through bonds of regression)— an excessive reflection, reflexive inspection, Prove its sanity through continued suggestion? Deductive insurrections stirred in memory, A rumble, causing sediments to crumble, Wineglasses balanced atop countertops tumble. Spilling contents upon the grained wooden, elitists' floors. "Anesthetic, onsetting tuberculosis in breath patterns, Gavels ringing on rigged tolling tongs in caverns, Dark tolerances to Copernican astronomy in shadows, And the handle grinds as boxcar wheels' flints and steels catch and spark in addled locks," I mumbled from a half-nap. It was surgery, the smooth procedures on the moving trains, The gains and plectrums scraped against the brains' spider veins, To reorganize the sane, to bridge the broken definitions changed, To prevent arguments' bone structure from fractures and sprains. "Use gavels against the scalpels, sculpt with their judgment," a corona dream's habitant corrugated. He pounded the gavel's end against the knife to chisel at the pituitary gland pulsing in his subject, And her arms flailed like a horse's legs in heat-induced convulsion. I thought it was done. The Canson Merue train screamed in the night under earth to Yellowknife to meet Canadian soil as the Heavy Breather pounded his gavel.
0
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 5:06 PM UTC
The Continued Suggestion (Subterrain)
All estuaries flow eastbound, and the subterranean rail tracks keep forcing against the estuaries’ grain and dust foundations perpendicularly to them. How can a sane proposition -- a quantification of syntax execution (those squirming cuticles through bonds of regression)— an excessive reflection, reflexive inspection, Prove its sanity through continued suggestion? Deductive insurrections stirred in memory, A rumble, causing sediments to crumble, Wineglasses balanced atop countertops tumble. Spilling contents upon the grained wooden, elitists' floors. "Anesthetic, onsetting tuberculosis in breath patterns, Gavels ringing on rigged tolling tongs in caverns, Dark tolerances to Copernican astronomy in shadows, And the handle grinds as boxcar wheels' flints and steels catch and spark in addled locks," I mumbled from a half-nap. It was surgery, the smooth procedures on the moving trains, The gains and plectrums scraped against the brains' spider veins, To reorganize the sane, to bridge the broken definitions changed, To prevent arguments' bone structure from fractures and sprains. "Use gavels against the scalpels, sculpt with their judgment," a corona dream's habitant corrugated. He pounded the gavel's end against the knife to chisel at the pituitary gland pulsing in his subject, And her arms flailed like a horse's legs in heat-induced convulsion. I thought it was done. The Canson Merue train screamed in the night under earth to Yellowknife to meet Canadian soil as the Heavy Breather pounded his gavel.
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20
She stands on the sandy beach Her hands shake; she’s afraid She steels herself with a breath And into the ocean she starts to wade Her brother jumps in, dauntlessly “The sharks will get you!” he jokes She ignores him, she knows the truth. Sharks don’t attack unprovoked She stares at the endless blue Who knows what really lies beneath? She walks with slow, hesitant steps Into the ocean till she’s in waist deep A brush against her leg, she jumps, Shrieks and falls under, A giant wave hits the beach, She sits up and looks in wonder On the ocean floor, a starfish sleeps Its fins moves, she’s fascinated A crab goes by with its sideways gait, By the busy shore, she’s captivated Tiny coloured gems shine on the beach As if just waiting to be discovered Shells of all shapes and sizes, Waiting to be kept and treasured. A small wave splashes her gently, Sand and salt water everywhere, Nothing to be scared of; she decides She’s found her perfect spot right there. No need to go any further Into the ocean; into the unknown Her friends make sandcastles nearby, And she sits there happily, on her own.
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Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 12:52 PM UTC
Into The Ocean
Ain't blemished with blood There're queues of personas Trying to nick every motion and shift Every angst of the heart Until they're hopes sink in. On those blue and hard things They find comfort from each infirmity There're linings all over Maneuvering every groove Shaving the people out To the finished and whitened stucco. Gold steels are not embroidered The hand of the room Looks inviting With warmth and fondness , Some drives in Unlocked and melting every delusion The sky speaks The clouds has no mutual feelings Acting odd and remarkable No rainbow to be seen. Blonde arrows With every breath one takes With every move one tries Choosing to hold close the lacks Accepting every fault For indeed, at the latter days The Healer Himself was the Way.
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Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 11:16 PM UTC
Healer
Celebrate the invisible embrace. You will be quite alone, When the altruistic deed is done. Content your heart in silence. No choir will raise its voice To sing your praises. Consign your life to anonymity. History no longer needs Martyrs to fill anthologies. Comfort your dreams in oleander. Flowers are an appropriate caress, For love conferred in obscurity. Cultivate a flair for solitude. Isolation is the purifying fire That steels a damascene soul.
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Feb 27, 2012
Feb 27, 2012 at 11:34 AM UTC
Unacknowledged
We had stopped at Bennys I got him some fries A nice day for a drive not a cloud in the sky We got in the truck I checked his seat twice I’m forever greatful for my wifes advice The diesel engine purred as I shifted gears To my grandmas house no thoughts of fear I hear a bang and in a flash We rolled and rolled crash and bash I count the hits one two three windows exploding around me I swing out the door hung from my belt We hit dirt and highway the hardest ive felt Time seemed to pause or maybe just slow With the earths every trouncing blow Upside-down truck upon my head How the **** am I not dead Around my ribs i feel the steels bite The crash is over but now is the fight My son is alive I can hear him cry He is to young to remember goodbye I must get to him i must pull him out Steel digging deeper as i struggle about My breath is laborious I’m struggling for air The pain is hellish too atrocious to bear Then she laid on the road infront of me A woman who was scared but strong for me I coughed up blood and gasped for air She squeezed my hand and said a prayer Blood flowed and filled my eyes and ears The world turned red as blood met tears Slowly a silance began to loom Another sign of an ominous doom She screamed the trucks are coming they are on their way Oh lord oh lord don’t take this man away You stay with me you stay with your son You can’t leave now his lifes just begun My body shudders as it gasps a wheeze I feel a cold chill i hoped was a breeze It has been too long since I’ve taken a breath What lays ahead life after death.
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Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 12:07 AM UTC
The feel of death
We had stopped at Bennys I got him some fries A nice day for a drive not a cloud in the sky We got in the truck I checked his seat twice I’m forever greatful for my wifes advice The diesel engine purred as I shifted gears To my grandmas house no thoughts of fear I hear a bang and in a flash We rolled and rolled crash and bash I count the hits one two three windows exploding around me I swing out the door hung from my belt We hit dirt and highway the hardest ive felt Time seemed to pause or maybe just slow With the earths every trouncing blow Upside-down truck upon my head How the **** am I not dead Around my ribs i feel the steels bite The crash is over but now is the fight My son is alive I can hear him cry He is to young to remember goodbye I must get to him i must pull him out Steel digging deeper as i struggle about My breath is laborious I’m struggling for air The pain is hellish too atrocious to bear Then she laid on the road infront of me A woman who was scared but strong for me I coughed up blood and gasped for air She squeezed my hand and said a prayer Blood flowed and filled my eyes and ears The world turned red as blood met tears Slowly a silance began to loom Another sign of an ominous doom She screamed the trucks are coming they are on their way Oh lord oh lord don’t take this man away You stay with me you stay with your son You can’t leave now his lifes just begun My body shudders as it gasps a wheeze I feel a cold chill i hoped was a breeze It has been too long since I’ve taken a breath What lays ahead life after death.
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40
Oh! yes, I will own we were dear to each other; The friendships of childhood, though fleeting, are true; The love which you felt was the love of a brother, Nor less the affection I cherish’d for you. But Friendship can vary her gentle dominion; The attachment of years, in a moment expires: Like Love, too, she moves on a swift-waving pinion, But glows not, like Love, with unquenchable fires. Full oft have we wander’d through Ida together, And blest were the scenes of our youth, I allow: In the spring of our life, how serene is the weather! But Winter’s rude tempests are gathering now. No more with Affection shall Memory blending, The wonted delights of our childhood retrace: When Pride steels the ***** the heart is unbending, And what would be Justice appears a disgrace. However, dear George, for I still must esteem you— The few, whom I love, I can never upbraid; The chance, which has lost, may in future redeem you, Repentance will cancel the vow you have made. I will not complain, and though chill’d is affection, With me no corroding resentment shall live: My ***** is calm’d by the simple reflection, That both may be wrong, and that both should forgive. You knew, that my soul, that my heart, my existence, If danger demanded, were wholly your own; You knew me unalter’d, by years or by distance, Devoted to love and to friendship alone. You knew,—but away with the vain retrospection! The bond of affection no longer endures; Too late you may droop o’er the fond recollection, And sigh for the friend, who was formerly yours. For the present, we part,—I will hope not for ever; For time and regret will restore you at last: To forget our dissension we both should endeavour, I ask no atonement, but days like the past.
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1.2k
To George, Earl Delawarr
Oh! yes, I will own we were dear to each other; The friendships of childhood, though fleeting, are true; The love which you felt was the love of a brother, Nor less the affection I cherish’d for you. But Friendship can vary her gentle dominion; The attachment of years, in a moment expires: Like Love, too, she moves on a swift-waving pinion, But glows not, like Love, with unquenchable fires. Full oft have we wander’d through Ida together, And blest were the scenes of our youth, I allow: In the spring of our life, how serene is the weather! But Winter’s rude tempests are gathering now. No more with Affection shall Memory blending, The wonted delights of our childhood retrace: When Pride steels the ***** the heart is unbending, And what would be Justice appears a disgrace. However, dear George, for I still must esteem you— The few, whom I love, I can never upbraid; The chance, which has lost, may in future redeem you, Repentance will cancel the vow you have made. I will not complain, and though chill’d is affection, With me no corroding resentment shall live: My ***** is calm’d by the simple reflection, That both may be wrong, and that both should forgive. You knew, that my soul, that my heart, my existence, If danger demanded, were wholly your own; You knew me unalter’d, by years or by distance, Devoted to love and to friendship alone. You knew,—but away with the vain retrospection! The bond of affection no longer endures; Too late you may droop o’er the fond recollection, And sigh for the friend, who was formerly yours. For the present, we part,—I will hope not for ever; For time and regret will restore you at last: To forget our dissension we both should endeavour, I ask no atonement, but days like the past.
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36
He undertook   Such a jolly folly To search for his heart's twin O'er plain, and peak    Never sparing daring Mad quest he did begin He careless spent   All his funny money For he spared no expense Heard of a man    said to uncover lovers Without a recompense "He's only known    as the Giant Bryant" For there were none bigger So off he went   For how dare-he tarry With the greatest vigor Within one moon   He did righted sighted The giant's stone castle And cautious stepped   Midst the towers flowers For he was quite facile With guarded prose   Lest he adverse converse Relayed his quest of years And though none be   A more mighter blighter Tall Bryant shed six tears "Your search for love"     Reflects gallant talent And will surely quench thirst In yonder vale   In a deeping sleeping A daughter who's born first      A true love's heart    And hair flaxen waxen Braids tressed with a blue fleur She longs for love     To keep-her deeper Hope steels her to endure It was just so   For he found-her sounder In the vale with fields green Her braided hair    In breeze saving waving With the suns golden sheen As he held her   In their blissing kissing Knew he'd ne'er search again For in her eyes    Shown a growing knowing Reflecting his hearts twin
0
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 12:43 AM UTC
His Heart's Twin
your pain is Mine and your strEngth you pulse through my veins death and hardship betrayal and scorn stopped you not and i Gladly tread in your mighty footsteps your hAtefull words fill my ears i Drink your poison likE the sweetest honey it fills my ears and sTeels my resolve your Hate is my strength swing your ax and i will follow till the grave you brought me back and for that i owe you my eternal allegiance together you and i shall set this world afire so wave your red flag my dearest devil and know that i stand at your side, come hell and high water.
0
Apr 11, 2010
Apr 11, 2010 at 7:30 PM UTC
My Fiery Red Devil
Love is the blond on the corner of the street Love is the brunette you never thought youd meet Love is the Red head living down the rode Love is her green eyes that make you explode Love is the radiant blue in her eyes that makes you melt That hazel color that mystifies is love That feeling when your weary head raises from bed in the pit of an already churning stomach is love A momentary loss of conciseness when she steels your breath away is love Love is the reason you get up in the morning because you feel rite Love is that little blind fool in the back of your mind that has you doing something you wouldnt otherwise do Love is the whisper on the rain Love is the shadow of the wind Love is the light in the sail that keeps you aloft, love is the sail Love is the time you spent thinking about what you would do when yo got out Love is the reason you were in there in first place The reason the insane become again sane is love The reason you go to the grocer at three in the morning and went back because you got the wrong flavor ice-cream is love If you reading this right now and laughing and shaking your head because you understand this thats love Not for me the paltry author of this simple poem or for the words contained herein but for the fact that youve been thinking about love and the one you love since you started reading this, thats love Love conkers all things if you give it a chance to Love crosses all boundaries if yo let it Yet for all of this love is easily bound if you dont nurture it, if you dont feed it, if you dont take care of it, if you dont let it grow If you dont do any of these things love dies like all things
0
Dec 18, 2010
Dec 18, 2010 at 8:04 AM UTC
This Is Love
Love is the blond on the corner of the street Love is the brunette you never thought youd meet Love is the Red head living down the rode Love is her green eyes that make you explode Love is the radiant blue in her eyes that makes you melt That hazel color that mystifies is love That feeling when your weary head raises from bed in the pit of an already churning stomach is love A momentary loss of conciseness when she steels your breath away is love Love is the reason you get up in the morning because you feel rite Love is that little blind fool in the back of your mind that has you doing something you wouldnt otherwise do Love is the whisper on the rain Love is the shadow of the wind Love is the light in the sail that keeps you aloft, love is the sail Love is the time you spent thinking about what you would do when yo got out Love is the reason you were in there in first place The reason the insane become again sane is love The reason you go to the grocer at three in the morning and went back because you got the wrong flavor ice-cream is love If you reading this right now and laughing and shaking your head because you understand this thats love Not for me the paltry author of this simple poem or for the words contained herein but for the fact that youve been thinking about love and the one you love since you started reading this, thats love Love conkers all things if you give it a chance to Love crosses all boundaries if yo let it Yet for all of this love is easily bound if you dont nurture it, if you dont feed it, if you dont take care of it, if you dont let it grow If you dont do any of these things love dies like all things
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22
You ***** a little girl. And I saw you as a good dad And my familys ****** up I feel so crazy as I look up To the sky, and through applications I have to find a place for her To live, as cancer steels her life Her big personality, as finalizing choke out of me What I am suppose to say And as people I care come crawling out from Dark, I park myself in the one ray of light Fighting to stay the person that I am Uncle you are a tweeker, But I love you But you steel from my dyeing grandmother I WILL ******* KICK YOU Right in the teeth so you wont smile at me anymore I will die When they burn down that old house I will die When she lets cancer take away everything I will die When I don’t know what to say and its to late ill die Frustration  overtakes me, someone save me Im failing. No one will help an old lady out for real? Whats the deal. What kind of world do I live in And rewind. He touched a little girl My grandmas is soon to be homeless Because they will take What made my childhood And my uncle finds everything He can take and runs away And I stand alone Trying to find her a home And fathers day is on the way But I don’t know what to give him Maybe a letter that says Thanks for growing up Once I didn’t need a dad And at the end I'm still mad Happy please find me Please find me *so lost, I cant even find the right buttons, right words... ****** poem, ****** home.*
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Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 2:58 AM UTC
It doesnt make since, its all the same, all so different.
there is a robber who steels he have lot of friends are robbers to one day the robber called all his friends and made a group discussion and told go to steel an ice cream on a maket i'll steel from a house and then everybody got messed up and then the robbers plane wasn't successful at last on one got nothing.
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Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 7:01 PM UTC
the robbers at the shop
Slaves; Every last one of us Slaves to our emotions Slaves to our desires Slaves to our fears and insecurities In our hearts, we are free In our minds, we try so hard to spread our wings The shackles wrap our heart and mind We hold the only key Our demons guard the key from us We’re stronger only when steels ourselves with true courage Fear holds us back We cannot comprehend ourselves as strong enough Some will use all they have to help others Others become instigators In the end though, we’re all monsters Whether to ourselves or to others We’re all monsters
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Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 2:16 AM UTC
We're All Monsters
There's an ache in the stain, A subtle sense of this pain, That picks at a part, That by chance is my heart. It ticks time by blood, The red reminder, That for all the world, Death is sweet and kinder. I am a dying man, In a dying world, A cold and bitter thing, Without one girl. Who's eyes have drifted, And her love followed suit, And all my affection that rang so soundly, Has since fallen mute. And I am a stain unto myself, And symbol of shame, Who fears his own stabilities, Who bears all the blame. Mea culpa fell from his lips, His sorrow seeped and slipped, From the steels cold kiss, Did that girl he ever miss, Mea culpa from his lips, His life seeped and slipped, Mea culpa from his lips.
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Jul 9, 2010
Jul 9, 2010 at 2:16 PM UTC
From His Lips
. Hovers over petals Itching to dive, drop Divine into essences Of live colour, scents Of creation, breathing In the motion swirls, Stemmed skywards, Genitalia of rainbows End.   Honey Bee catches Nectar dripping out airs And steels away to hive, Beelines to comb, where Amber ****** becomes What Gods sleepily crave, Sniffed sweets of ambrosia, Borne in the queer fluctuations Of tiny wings, firing up vibrations. .
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Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 7:29 PM UTC
Honey Bee
Am I invisible? Are you blind? Why does no one see me? Do I repulse you? Breakthrough! I recall what I want to be again. The feeling of belonging to something bigger than just myself. Longing for more than emptiness…. Conversation… Touch my soul. Show me that we have so much in common. Fill me with confidence and empower me. Hold me close. Remind me that I can loved without a word. A kiss that steels my heart. A touch that causes me to tremble with glee. All the stupid rules of dating, laid down by whom? Wait 3 days. Don’t call me, I’ll call you. Can’t come off as desperate, or you may be scared away. So I still sit in my room alone and longing… Do you feel the same? Are you going to sit in your room tonight and think… Am I invisible? Is she blind? Does she not see me? Do I repulse her? No, I see you…
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Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 11:49 PM UTC
Three Days
Its like the sound of glass breaking, Like fingers cold and aching, Of frigid air that bites, Like my chest is open, Where a part of me is missing, The wound bleeding and hissing. The raw wounded edges, Are hidden and put to ease, By the tainted bandage of numbness, The numbness that thieves, Every moment of happiness, The sharp edge to my pain. And one day after a day, A day and a day, I wake and suddenly I’m drowning, In the wake of my fears, Its all consuming, overwhelming, Terrified through my tears. And panic wells up in me, Like hot acid shooting through me, And it fills up my chest And my body is shaking, As it steels my breath, As I fall to my knees, And the pressure keeps building Like a bomb in my chest. Every breath that I’m taking, Faster-faster-faster I-need-to-catch-it-soon… My lungs lurch as I close my eyes, Because I’m sitting in a shifting room. I clamp a cold hand on my hot mouth. My lungs heave. My brains telling me airs escaping me But I know better, I’m gasping. And I see that’s more air than I could possibly need. And I’m dizzy, I tighten my hand. I bite down hard and hold back, until stars fade. And my existence, everything that I am. I put into taking only one- single- breath. All of me praying I can slow down the next. And hold it. My lungs lurch a little less. The pain slowly eases inside my chest. I shake less intensely, My body starts listening. And I take a breath. That one simple beautiful breath, Holding me up in the ocean like an orange life vest. And I lie panting and covered in sweat. With tear covered eyes, Grasping at my aching chest. Still alive and living with the stress I just almost died of loneliness.
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Feb 4, 2012
Feb 4, 2012 at 1:05 AM UTC
The Panic of Alone
Its like the sound of glass breaking, Like fingers cold and aching, Of frigid air that bites, Like my chest is open, Where a part of me is missing, The wound bleeding and hissing. The raw wounded edges, Are hidden and put to ease, By the tainted bandage of numbness, The numbness that thieves, Every moment of happiness, The sharp edge to my pain. And one day after a day, A day and a day, I wake and suddenly I’m drowning, In the wake of my fears, Its all consuming, overwhelming, Terrified through my tears. And panic wells up in me, Like hot acid shooting through me, And it fills up my chest And my body is shaking, As it steels my breath, As I fall to my knees, And the pressure keeps building Like a bomb in my chest. Every breath that I’m taking, Faster-faster-faster I-need-to-catch-it-soon… My lungs lurch as I close my eyes, Because I’m sitting in a shifting room. I clamp a cold hand on my hot mouth. My lungs heave. My brains telling me airs escaping me But I know better, I’m gasping. And I see that’s more air than I could possibly need. And I’m dizzy, I tighten my hand. I bite down hard and hold back, until stars fade. And my existence, everything that I am. I put into taking only one- single- breath. All of me praying I can slow down the next. And hold it. My lungs lurch a little less. The pain slowly eases inside my chest. I shake less intensely, My body starts listening. And I take a breath. That one simple beautiful breath, Holding me up in the ocean like an orange life vest. And I lie panting and covered in sweat. With tear covered eyes, Grasping at my aching chest. Still alive and living with the stress I just almost died of loneliness.
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55
"where night is...romeo at a window" i. black rock, gold leaf edging a page. ii. night drowses its engines dark alleys and empty cans. iii. the night sinks back like a technicolor cartoon, blue-green, it rolls like a film, it sings of old love in its fiery steels. iv. today i am juliet waiting for romeo i wait forever for one kiss while the sky calls out love to the dreaming cloud. v. romeo, oh, romeo, and the night's ghostly petals unwind their sweetness in the tree-lined lanes of the moon.
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Jul 8, 2017
Jul 8, 2017 at 5:51 PM UTC
where night is...