"strats" poems - Hello Poetry

Time after time In the depths of my soul Nothing makes me happy Knowing my heart is mended Every veins stappled and taped Rigid crevices filled with cement Each dominant strats I have endured Dissing this blood with artificial flavoring Have you ever seen such gruesome illusion? Engineering my way to this makeshift completion And by the time it's done, you won't tell the difference Ready my tools for I have a confession Tinkering hearts, that is my profession Spectred recondition, deceitful reconstruction

0

Aug 9, 2015

Aug 9, 2015 at 10:35 PM UTC

Peanut

Tinkered Hearts

Time after time In the depths of my soul Nothing makes me happy Knowing my heart is mended Every veins stappled and taped Rigid crevices filled with cement Each dominant strats I have endured Dissing this blood with artificial flavoring Have you ever seen such gruesome illusion? Engineering my way to this makeshift completion And by the time it's done, you won't tell the difference Ready my tools for I have a confession Tinkering hearts, that is my profession Spectred recondition, deceitful reconstruction

14

"'Thou mayest rule over sin," Lee said. That's it. I do not believe all men are destroyed. I can name you a dozen who were not, and they are the ones the world lives by. It is true of the spirit as it is true of the battles - only the winners are remembered. Surely most men are destroyed, but there are others who like pillars of fire guide frightened men through the darkness. 'Thou mayest, Thou mayest!' What glory! It is true that we are weak and sick and quarrelsome, but if that is all we ever were, we would, millenniums ago, have disappeared from the face of the earth. A few remnants of fossilized jawbone, some broken teeth in strats of limestone, would be the only mark man would have left of his existence in the world. But the choice, Lee, the choice of winning! I had never understood it or accepted it before. 'Thou mayest rule over sin.'"

0

Jan 12, 2016

Jan 12, 2016 at 3:22 PM UTC

m-48

Timshel

"'Thou mayest rule over sin," Lee said. That's it. I do not believe all men are destroyed. I can name you a dozen who were not, and they are the ones the world lives by. It is true of the spirit as it is true of the battles - only the winners are remembered. Surely most men are destroyed, but there are others who like pillars of fire guide frightened men through the darkness. 'Thou mayest, Thou mayest!' What glory! It is true that we are weak and sick and quarrelsome, but if that is all we ever were, we would, millenniums ago, have disappeared from the face of the earth. A few remnants of fossilized jawbone, some broken teeth in strats of limestone, would be the only mark man would have left of his existence in the world. But the choice, Lee, the choice of winning! I had never understood it or accepted it before. 'Thou mayest rule over sin.'"

1

Between ropes all life, can't let up Fight fiends with strife, fed up Life feels like it's sped up Drinking fluid only from red cups Loud noise equals life strats Keyboards, drums, strings and frets People think they having fun and don't fret Eating words from musicians, spoon fed I've led this life and it feels trife Reminiscing of time lost makes me reel and cry When brains feel like they're deep fried When the dream you worshiped, it seems lied. Riding every morning Hiding all the phoney feelings when your roaming You don't feel like going But the drugs just keep on flowing When women exist only for blowing When lean red eyes are showing The life you know is boring So it's either live a husk of party life Or a slow knife in your back as a part of hive.

0

Jul 6, 2017

Jul 6, 2017 at 7:11 AM UTC

Zelos7

This concert must be unearthed.

Between ropes all life, can't let up Fight fiends with strife, fed up Life feels like it's sped up Drinking fluid only from red cups Loud noise equals life strats Keyboards, drums, strings and frets People think they having fun and don't fret Eating words from musicians, spoon fed I've led this life and it feels trife Reminiscing of time lost makes me reel and cry When brains feel like they're deep fried When the dream you worshiped, it seems lied. Riding every morning Hiding all the phoney feelings when your roaming You don't feel like going But the drugs just keep on flowing When women exist only for blowing When lean red eyes are showing The life you know is boring So it's either live a husk of party life Or a slow knife in your back as a part of hive.

22

"Sometimes you need to ask yourself: what do I need to do to get a ******* today? Or at least soon ya know? Of course you don't want a looker, that is bad for the environment & you ( also doesn't look too good on the resume). I have failed to find any legit strats- except maybe going into **** or a legitimate relationship. But it doesn't pay well and the other is a lot of work. What to do?" - d.m.

0

May 31, 2018

May 31, 2018 at 8:32 AM UTC

GabeOue

I think therefore I am, The line in the sand

"Sometimes you need to ask yourself: what do I need to do to get a ******* today? Or at least soon ya know? Of course you don't want a looker, that is bad for the environment & you ( also doesn't look too good on the resume). I have failed to find any legit strats- except maybe going into **** or a legitimate relationship. But it doesn't pay well and the other is a lot of work. What to do?" - d.m.

2

I fell in love with the dirt road on the way to the grave yard and with the muddy trails imprinted with scattered foot prints. And yes, it did upset me deep within my soul. I fell in love with the glare coming off the train rails when the sun was at its prime and how the roof on the elevator always looked like it had snow on it. It upset me deep within my soul. I loved how you had so very few possessions, yet you had drawers full of filled notebooks. And i loved the way your hair got gray, even though you were only 16. I loved the sound the engine made when you tried to switch gears and the way your clothes hung off you in a ghostly manner. And yes, it upset me deep within my soul. I could hear your heart beat from next door; it mixed with the sound of fender strats and dripping skies. And let me tell you, February smells like simulated cotton candy and water colors. It smells like wet cement and fresh pencils. It smells like chimney smoke escaping from brick voids mixing with exhaust from pickup trucks and vans, and sun dried rocks in front of the sparkling ocean. It upset me deep within my soul. February sounds like the struggle of old cars driving up hills, New shoes on school steps, An untuned guitar, and My tears dripping on the table. You upset me deep within my soul when I could see the pink on the mountain tops. When I saw the view from the post card in real life. The day I saw you pacing the length of our set of lockers with your nerves going off and you said her last goodbyes. Oh how I'd love to get lost on the grid with you both, but it would just upset me deep with my soul.

0

Feb 17, 2014

Feb 17, 2014 at 3:02 AM UTC

PsychedelicBlossom

Untitled

I fell in love with the dirt road on the way to the grave yard and with the muddy trails imprinted with scattered foot prints. And yes, it did upset me deep within my soul. I fell in love with the glare coming off the train rails when the sun was at its prime and how the roof on the elevator always looked like it had snow on it. It upset me deep within my soul. I loved how you had so very few possessions, yet you had drawers full of filled notebooks. And i loved the way your hair got gray, even though you were only 16. I loved the sound the engine made when you tried to switch gears and the way your clothes hung off you in a ghostly manner. And yes, it upset me deep within my soul. I could hear your heart beat from next door; it mixed with the sound of fender strats and dripping skies. And let me tell you, February smells like simulated cotton candy and water colors. It smells like wet cement and fresh pencils. It smells like chimney smoke escaping from brick voids mixing with exhaust from pickup trucks and vans, and sun dried rocks in front of the sparkling ocean. It upset me deep within my soul. February sounds like the struggle of old cars driving up hills, New shoes on school steps, An untuned guitar, and My tears dripping on the table. You upset me deep within my soul when I could see the pink on the mountain tops. When I saw the view from the post card in real life. The day I saw you pacing the length of our set of lockers with your nerves going off and you said her last goodbyes. Oh how I'd love to get lost on the grid with you both, but it would just upset me deep with my soul.

20

on Friday night just after 10 small town locals gather talkin **** standing outside a dive bar dimly lit a loud crowd of obnoxious drunk derelicts anxiously wait gossip and smoke cigs faint amplified sounds of acoustic guitars play practiced late night written chords half lit ***** drenched musicians with whiskey soaked rockstar ambitions strum vintage Gibson’s and fender strats songs about lost loves what if’s and regrets behind a big shiny silver microphone stand prominently displayed fancy cowboy hat his handmade tailored studded boots tap in rhythm sipping a glass of absolute charred smokey voice like a burnt cigarette personifies a James dean confidence

0

Jan 7, 2020

Jan 7, 2020 at 7:21 PM UTC

NoeyRocks

Whiskey Guitars and Smokey Bars

on Friday night just after 10 small town locals gather talkin **** standing outside a dive bar dimly lit a loud crowd of obnoxious drunk derelicts anxiously wait gossip and smoke cigs faint amplified sounds of acoustic guitars play practiced late night written chords half lit ***** drenched musicians with whiskey soaked rockstar ambitions strum vintage Gibson’s and fender strats songs about lost loves what if’s and regrets behind a big shiny silver microphone stand prominently displayed fancy cowboy hat his handmade tailored studded boots tap in rhythm sipping a glass of absolute charred smokey voice like a burnt cigarette personifies a James dean confidence

17