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"strenght" poems
There are five widely known senses. Sight, hearing, touch, smell and taste. We've got some minor ones as well, such as balance, temperature and many more. However, people fail to realise that there's also the sixth major sense. Thoughts themselves.    If we look closely, all these five senses have the same base. Specified cells in eye react to energy of light, cells of ear recieve energy in form of air's vibrations, skin cells pick up energy of mechanical changes, and so tasting and hearing depend on translation of certain substances' chemical energy.    These cells in different organs differ in their structure and the way they appear, however, if we stop looking at them in such small scale, we can see that ALL of the cells or organs responsible for any sense translate the energy.    So, a light enters the eye, certain wavelenght of certain energy stimulates the eye's rod or cone cells with a certain intensity. Then the energy of light is translated to energy of electrical impulse, which goes straight to the brain, creating the sensation of sight.    If it comes to smell, a certain particle enters the nose, binds to a smell receptor cell, and the chemical energy of this particle is, again, translated to energy of electrical impulse, which goes straight to the brain, creating the sensation of smell.    Now, let's move to the crucial part. The sense of thoughts.    During the creation of thought, pathways in our brain that collect memories(and many more known or unknown pathways) connect. First, there's this spark of electricity, that moves all along the neuron and releases a dose of neurotransmitters(amount of different NTs is equiavlent to strength of this spark, basically resulting in "creating" various thoughts). Then, chemical energy of NEUROTRANSMITTER is translated to energy of electrical impulse, which happens in the brain, creating the sensation of thought.    Therefore the 'sense of thoughts' reacts to and is stimulated by neurotransmitters themselves, with receptors on neurons' membrane being receptors of the stimulus. So, kind of like smell, the stimulus is chemical, compared to sight, where it's electromagnetic wave; anyways the result in all of these is electric impulse in neurons (hence the idea of "thoughts" as a sense, due to the same basic layout; transfer of energy).    The 'smell particle' connects to receptor and is translated to a certain amount of neurotransmitters/certain strenght of neuronal impulse. SO, again, we can see that when the first outer layer of this communication is cut off, we're left only with the neurotransmitters and impulses themselves. Anyway, the transduction of energy remains.    If it comes to "sense of thoughts" the receptor lies within us, whereas in sight or smell or touch it's external. However, does it matter if it's on the surface of skin or under it if it all comes down to neurons of our brain?    When you lie in a dark, silent room, without any external stimuli, you still retain your thoughts, colorful, vivid or complex. All the magic of the brain - still happens. So, how isn't it a separate, full-fledged sense?
0
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 6:49 AM UTC
Thoughts#22 ; Senses
There are five widely known senses. Sight, hearing, touch, smell and taste. We've got some minor ones as well, such as balance, temperature and many more. However, people fail to realise that there's also the sixth major sense. Thoughts themselves.    If we look closely, all these five senses have the same base. Specified cells in eye react to energy of light, cells of ear recieve energy in form of air's vibrations, skin cells pick up energy of mechanical changes, and so tasting and hearing depend on translation of certain substances' chemical energy.    These cells in different organs differ in their structure and the way they appear, however, if we stop looking at them in such small scale, we can see that ALL of the cells or organs responsible for any sense translate the energy.    So, a light enters the eye, certain wavelenght of certain energy stimulates the eye's rod or cone cells with a certain intensity. Then the energy of light is translated to energy of electrical impulse, which goes straight to the brain, creating the sensation of sight.    If it comes to smell, a certain particle enters the nose, binds to a smell receptor cell, and the chemical energy of this particle is, again, translated to energy of electrical impulse, which goes straight to the brain, creating the sensation of smell.    Now, let's move to the crucial part. The sense of thoughts.    During the creation of thought, pathways in our brain that collect memories(and many more known or unknown pathways) connect. First, there's this spark of electricity, that moves all along the neuron and releases a dose of neurotransmitters(amount of different NTs is equiavlent to strength of this spark, basically resulting in "creating" various thoughts). Then, chemical energy of NEUROTRANSMITTER is translated to energy of electrical impulse, which happens in the brain, creating the sensation of thought.    Therefore the 'sense of thoughts' reacts to and is stimulated by neurotransmitters themselves, with receptors on neurons' membrane being receptors of the stimulus. So, kind of like smell, the stimulus is chemical, compared to sight, where it's electromagnetic wave; anyways the result in all of these is electric impulse in neurons (hence the idea of "thoughts" as a sense, due to the same basic layout; transfer of energy).    The 'smell particle' connects to receptor and is translated to a certain amount of neurotransmitters/certain strenght of neuronal impulse. SO, again, we can see that when the first outer layer of this communication is cut off, we're left only with the neurotransmitters and impulses themselves. Anyway, the transduction of energy remains.    If it comes to "sense of thoughts" the receptor lies within us, whereas in sight or smell or touch it's external. However, does it matter if it's on the surface of skin or under it if it all comes down to neurons of our brain?    When you lie in a dark, silent room, without any external stimuli, you still retain your thoughts, colorful, vivid or complex. All the magic of the brain - still happens. So, how isn't it a separate, full-fledged sense?
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15
Oh dear brave knight, Who ventures into the wilds Please draw your sword And fight away the horde. She's a hero into my heart With the strenght to tear us apart Come here and fight away The monsters that are wide awake And then eat this piece of cake. She's always into a fight Because she is my brave knight Come here and claim your prize Because this is the tale of the knight.
0
Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 10:54 PM UTC
The Knight
Like a thorn in the side twists, turns, shifts, thugs at my pride, who am I and why? Forget to be, forget to try. Sigh, deny and try, oh try, to find out who am I? Struggle to reach. Struggle to come to grip with reality. You see all these expectations get laid on me, I cant seem to find my feet. Even in finding my feet, defeat. Defeating my mind and steeped and bleeding, I'm blind and beat. I'm beating the blinds, the street, it limits the finds and eats, it eats at my mind. But rise to my feet, I will. Beat my way through, I do. The passing days, they may get all hazy. But I got a vision, I do. Clear as unmuddied water, that vision peaks and from the merky pool hope leaks. Not made that of odour which reeks, rather perfume which speaks to those bold, brave, not weak. Who on top of a mountain sits and seeks and stands on the ocean before they may sink and know their song well before they dare speak. Hope keeps us hooked. Pain gives us drive. For that, I will swallow my pride. My dignity beat, battered and bruised. But my reputation in tact. My strenght unmatched. Unmask myself I will. Through this treacherous journey, I shall grace salvation, to find my inner will. And with journey abound to destination unknown leaving that hope, strenght and will for events which have thrown light into the tunnel. Illuminating the stone which sits on the temple of freedom and soul, spirit, freewill, autonomy, suddenly realisation that still ... Still I am me.
0
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 11:23 AM UTC
Unmasking Me
What's going on?! With these beautiful dark women bleaching their skin and hiding their features. Reaching to a point of shame from these beautiful creatures. They don't believe what the bible says, so they're their own preachers. While God designed them to be beautiful queens, living the unachieved dreams of their african ancestors. Daughters of Africa, daughters of slaves. Free in the physical, but mentally chained. Darkened by the morning sun. Brightened by the evening moon. A smile that captivates homeless hearts. A strenght that fascinates hopeless minds. Dear beautiful black woman, Know who you are. Black is beautiful. Black means strong. Skin tone that matches the earth. Curves that catches the eye. Walk like a goddess and talk like a queen. When you enter a room let your appearance speak, let your presence prophesy: "I'm worthy, I'm proud and I'm beautiful"
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Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 2:52 PM UTC
The beauty unseen
i want you to remind me how the moon and the stars above glance and hides how shy they were whenever your voice soothes the trees and living creatures, reverberating the paradox of joy and sadness in your giggle i want you to remind me how the ends will never be the means of loving and that saturating my soul with your presence is more than i could ever receive, a reality unmet with circumstances of chains upon ourselves i want you to remind me how long it would take to consume the universe on your palm or the life in one single breath, or the night with a hymn that lights up my way home i want you to remind me of remembering goodbyes and hellos the mellow sound of now and the agonizing tomorrow swifting its way to uncanny sound of laughter and sniffed tears i want you to remind me that there are more to life than we ever thought of: death, absence, nothingness i want you to remind me that i could always see the mirror of myself in your brushed short hair, chapped lips and past you never left behind, just the like the songs i've made to remind how unusual semblance of people unites hearts and eventually tear them apart i want you to remind me of the days where i loved deeply and without hesitation or fear of falling behind or the anxiety of losing what i never had in the first place i want you to remind me of the days like this where the smile in my face meant the world, home, and happiness from your single hello or the way you tilt your head and stare and smile and laugh or when your cheeks blush and swims together with the universe in your eyes and the waters deeply engraved in your fingers how the waves strum the music in your spirit and soul how i want you to remember, the way i will remind you: i will remind you of how i love seeing you mess around and make everyone happy, your vain and cuddly smile behind the tint of the sun, along the banquets of academics and artists i will remind you of how assured i was that you were whom i prayed for to a nonexistent deity of the wind and beauty; how i wished to feel its rush as i roam around, and steep-down the wheels, continuously weighing down unafraid of a valley of morality and questions i will remind you of the philosophy of the meaninglessness of existence and how life was never the meaning but pain of waiting for death; you made it bearable and the ample grace of your heart is what i'll keep to my future journeys of seeking what i would trade for life itself enduring the morning commutes and cruelty of mischievous eyes i will remind you of the day i saw you, and how tall you stand as me or how shy i was whenever i was in front of the crowd, but most of the time you give me the strenght to brush off what everyone would say i will remind you of the day, and the days to come i will not ask for more or less, it will be enough, and i hope with that, i will be enough, and i, hope you would always remind me #
0
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 3:35 AM UTC
cosine
i want you to remind me how the moon and the stars above glance and hides how shy they were whenever your voice soothes the trees and living creatures, reverberating the paradox of joy and sadness in your giggle i want you to remind me how the ends will never be the means of loving and that saturating my soul with your presence is more than i could ever receive, a reality unmet with circumstances of chains upon ourselves i want you to remind me how long it would take to consume the universe on your palm or the life in one single breath, or the night with a hymn that lights up my way home i want you to remind me of remembering goodbyes and hellos the mellow sound of now and the agonizing tomorrow swifting its way to uncanny sound of laughter and sniffed tears i want you to remind me that there are more to life than we ever thought of: death, absence, nothingness i want you to remind me that i could always see the mirror of myself in your brushed short hair, chapped lips and past you never left behind, just the like the songs i've made to remind how unusual semblance of people unites hearts and eventually tear them apart i want you to remind me of the days where i loved deeply and without hesitation or fear of falling behind or the anxiety of losing what i never had in the first place i want you to remind me of the days like this where the smile in my face meant the world, home, and happiness from your single hello or the way you tilt your head and stare and smile and laugh or when your cheeks blush and swims together with the universe in your eyes and the waters deeply engraved in your fingers how the waves strum the music in your spirit and soul how i want you to remember, the way i will remind you: i will remind you of how i love seeing you mess around and make everyone happy, your vain and cuddly smile behind the tint of the sun, along the banquets of academics and artists i will remind you of how assured i was that you were whom i prayed for to a nonexistent deity of the wind and beauty; how i wished to feel its rush as i roam around, and steep-down the wheels, continuously weighing down unafraid of a valley of morality and questions i will remind you of the philosophy of the meaninglessness of existence and how life was never the meaning but pain of waiting for death; you made it bearable and the ample grace of your heart is what i'll keep to my future journeys of seeking what i would trade for life itself enduring the morning commutes and cruelty of mischievous eyes i will remind you of the day i saw you, and how tall you stand as me or how shy i was whenever i was in front of the crowd, but most of the time you give me the strenght to brush off what everyone would say i will remind you of the day, and the days to come i will not ask for more or less, it will be enough, and i hope with that, i will be enough, and i, hope you would always remind me #
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27
Here I am sitting, hurting and aching. I am Jealous indeed I am Jealous because, You showed me value but you suddenly took it away. I am Jealous because my love was ignored I am Jealous because I gave my all, and I couldn't convice you of my love. I couldn't convince you, that I love you. I am Jealous because you yelled on me with anger and rage and the next, a photo with you smilling. I am Jealous for I could not trace logically, For I could not see the source of your hatred. Deeper than your hatred for me, There's a reason why, There's a reason that you blinded yourself to my good deeds. That you saw none of which i gave you that was good. Love, time, strenght, service, you saw none of these, In your rage you only saw my folly, in which is not even valid to say. I am Jealous, for you say you loved me, yet another you said you never did. and yet you said you can lie to hurt me. Which one is true. I am torn. I am Jealous that my small mistakes are drilled through my being While their's, they are justified beyond all senses. I am Jealous, because you made me feel special, you made me feel like I am no other, I am Jealous because you convinced me you'll never leave me Yet now, like a nobody, in which you threw away. Perhaps I may assume the best from you, that you threw me away, because you wanted my heart safe. Because, I brought out the monster in you. How is that, I do not know... All I knew was that I loved you with a sincere heart
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Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 11:36 AM UTC
Jealousy
I am constraint In a constraint body I move from thought to thought race  between a permanent solitude I hear a screaming voice and it´s my own She´s screaming out my own deepest   secrets Who  did I tell my  shame? If not you You keep me, in a confinement locked in among my frustrated fears morbidly amused by their strenght I  stay in here. Where else  would I go If  not   back to you.
0
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 4:51 PM UTC
Dear schizophrenia
Sitting here trying to figure my thought process, Trying to describe the only one I want to impress, Thinking of ways to give you what you're due, When all it ever takes is a simple ' I love you '. The 9th of May 1978, a few years past, Our 1st public introduction, yet it could've been our last, You stopped breathing as things weren't going right, I'm forever grateful, you turned back from that light. I always had a reputation as a Mammys Boy, No longer an insult, I am one with pride, You thought me how to stand up for myself, Most importantly, to search inside for my strenght. Along with all of that, you gave me 4 sisters, For my nieces & nephews, you gave 4 great mothers, You take on our problems, like they're your own, You always make sure, we are never alone. They say all men search for one like their Mother, Well, 'they' have no clue, for there is no other, One with such skills, to attempt to name is unbelievablle, Mammy, Ma... to the girls & I, to everyone else it is Carmel.
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Jul 4, 2011
Jul 4, 2011 at 4:00 PM UTC
Mammy's Boy
There's a fae Who lives in a fern. Her wings so little, Her feet so kittle. She was a tease, But certainly not the least. She flits through the grass, With a skimpy dress of brass. She hides in the shrub, And offers a defiant shrug. Her whistles beckons to the birds, Even the goblins dare leave their beds. Her step on petals are of light springs, Even with hair tied in ribbon strings. Mischievous little thing she was Other wary faes ought to pause. So carefree she treads, Even mama could not knot her in a thread. Most often, mama warns and shoos Always, she'd never heed but coos. One moon-ful night, When she forgot her plight, Into the sky, unwarily she soars, And ends up torn in the bellies of owls. With all her strenght did she beat But the night birds had had their bits! A mournful dirge for a fae no bigger than a wasp, But who ends up dying with a gasp!
0
Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 6:34 PM UTC
Little Fae
The village is reaching the end of eternity. The story has been told, written, read. Out in the borderlands, David still fights Goliath. The crowd have been around them for thousands of years, chanting names, fists in the air, ***** angry faces. As the chanting of his name increases, David grows in size, unfolding like a redwood, gleaming tanned bark. The crowd becomes uneasy; a giant among them? whose children will he eat? which maidens will he devour? and so they begin chanting Goliath's name; David's strenght ebbs, they're feeding Goliath with their tongues now, as he hulks and looms more and more over the shrinking David alas, the crowd learn their mistake, bite their tongues, twisting them until they are saying "David" once more. This fight has been going on for thousands of years. The crowd continue blindly shouting, 'David' and 'Goliath' being the only words they have uttered for aeons unrealising they hold the power to release themselves from this eternal fight.
0
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 10:27 AM UTC
Giants
I suffer in silence I silence my tears my tears choke my breath the pain hurts like death because I'm dying and there is no one to help How does one carry on, when her strenght is gone? I want to return home but heaven has no phone so I live another day---and die praying to my deaf father with my mute cries.
0
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 4:04 PM UTC
summertime sadness
In real life I don't have the courage to utter all these words. By stringing them together, I can get these phrases. I am most amazed what poetry made possible, you can read it in: The Audacity of a Poem ************************************* Poems mean a lot to me since it is reciprocal you see the society I live in is reflected in all these lines love is very important almost a sin and the always one glasses of wines always getting in the best specialist for our health they say is also The wealth but I regard love is the most important remember I am human not a mutant love is the best for our life it is obvious that we must strife love is like the present wind that blows constantly so tender in through my thirsty body and mind I reside in this country oh so kind a country peaceful, plenty of place and love to hide that's why I have my domicile here and reside My beloved likes reading and traveling we have seen parts of the world a very lot I have other kinds of interests, like humming writing essays, feedbacking, listening to music, and praying to God building websites, designing cards and yes conducting PC Help desks, bank-scanning, and chess in London and Serfaus, musicals and skiing, along the Mediterranean sea, enjoying life, love while driving how do I do that, d'you really want to know, dear? while whatsapping, driving fastest, and the music to the ear really very simple, love in you, your whole soul in there, just like our parents using tupperware but ah, I like most to describe the love in poems I write posting them for my beloved after that heavy night since love is so important in our life you must not take for granted but must strife we can't miss it in our life its function like: though sometimes on our highway a junction it's like the great water of the mighty ocean it has grip on you, you feel the strenght, but it's addiction the strong water's ripples too, its mildness you demand the best, the most but never less and remember for ever that in the country I live in the kind of love I'm so addicted to, is never a sin in the end my heart and being will constantly see my one and faithful Man, for Thy most precious gift, I say to Thee thank You, my Lord. Amen  (fon.: A-'men) © Sylvia Frances Chan
0
Sep 4, 2016
Sep 4, 2016 at 5:25 AM UTC
The AUDACITY of a POEM
In real life I don't have the courage to utter all these words. By stringing them together, I can get these phrases. I am most amazed what poetry made possible, you can read it in: The Audacity of a Poem ************************************* Poems mean a lot to me since it is reciprocal you see the society I live in is reflected in all these lines love is very important almost a sin and the always one glasses of wines always getting in the best specialist for our health they say is also The wealth but I regard love is the most important remember I am human not a mutant love is the best for our life it is obvious that we must strife love is like the present wind that blows constantly so tender in through my thirsty body and mind I reside in this country oh so kind a country peaceful, plenty of place and love to hide that's why I have my domicile here and reside My beloved likes reading and traveling we have seen parts of the world a very lot I have other kinds of interests, like humming writing essays, feedbacking, listening to music, and praying to God building websites, designing cards and yes conducting PC Help desks, bank-scanning, and chess in London and Serfaus, musicals and skiing, along the Mediterranean sea, enjoying life, love while driving how do I do that, d'you really want to know, dear? while whatsapping, driving fastest, and the music to the ear really very simple, love in you, your whole soul in there, just like our parents using tupperware but ah, I like most to describe the love in poems I write posting them for my beloved after that heavy night since love is so important in our life you must not take for granted but must strife we can't miss it in our life its function like: though sometimes on our highway a junction it's like the great water of the mighty ocean it has grip on you, you feel the strenght, but it's addiction the strong water's ripples too, its mildness you demand the best, the most but never less and remember for ever that in the country I live in the kind of love I'm so addicted to, is never a sin in the end my heart and being will constantly see my one and faithful Man, for Thy most precious gift, I say to Thee thank You, my Lord. Amen  (fon.: A-'men) © Sylvia Frances Chan
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51
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ TO SMILE BECAUSE EVERYONE ELSE DOES :) IS: - An act of anarchy, especially if you don't have any teeth :D - Because all beings are blessed Bees    - Certain sign of cretenism or genuine Charm - Denominative sense of digestion is Disturbing - Ethically wrong Endeavor - Fascinating and freeking fabulous if you intend to F. . .   - Gorgeous as Geometry - Hot on Hotties - Imature and implies lack of Integrity - Jibberish - Keen rediscovering so many Keens or Kens      - Lovely on Lovely ones (once) - Magnificent Mimicry - Negating the jokers(or your own) inteligence / numb is Numb - Onthological urge to survive among jungle beasts - fangs are    quintessential urban asset. .or. . Smile-The-Power-Wilder-Open       - Pertinent in Parliament - Quiet resistance behind a cold minded rebellions league - quitting in few minutes  kicking some mthf harassing ****** pervert - to hard Quiver - Real lovely strenght to feel and see each other happy   - Stupid on jokes = Joke Stupid   - Tactics to climb up the social ledder or/end further down the Thongs - U can't admit you didn't get it; u2 - Violation of virtues as (in vino) Veritas - Wonderful! To see people happy is healthy, positive and Wise!   - X times better than being in low energy - You love your beloved and you are loved by your beloved love - Zooming at the ' zoo' of human behaviour -     Amusing as Zorro-Art-Is-MusssssssssseumZ
0
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 5:11 PM UTC
How Well Can You Smile
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ TO SMILE BECAUSE EVERYONE ELSE DOES :) IS: - An act of anarchy, especially if you don't have any teeth :D - Because all beings are blessed Bees    - Certain sign of cretenism or genuine Charm - Denominative sense of digestion is Disturbing - Ethically wrong Endeavor - Fascinating and freeking fabulous if you intend to F. . .   - Gorgeous as Geometry - Hot on Hotties - Imature and implies lack of Integrity - Jibberish - Keen rediscovering so many Keens or Kens      - Lovely on Lovely ones (once) - Magnificent Mimicry - Negating the jokers(or your own) inteligence / numb is Numb - Onthological urge to survive among jungle beasts - fangs are    quintessential urban asset. .or. . Smile-The-Power-Wilder-Open       - Pertinent in Parliament - Quiet resistance behind a cold minded rebellions league - quitting in few minutes  kicking some mthf harassing ****** pervert - to hard Quiver - Real lovely strenght to feel and see each other happy   - Stupid on jokes = Joke Stupid   - Tactics to climb up the social ledder or/end further down the Thongs - U can't admit you didn't get it; u2 - Violation of virtues as (in vino) Veritas - Wonderful! To see people happy is healthy, positive and Wise!   - X times better than being in low energy - You love your beloved and you are loved by your beloved love - Zooming at the ' zoo' of human behaviour -     Amusing as Zorro-Art-Is-MusssssssssseumZ
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30
An old, frail woman sits in rocking chair. Rocking slowly, gently, back and forth. The floorboards beneath her creek softly. She is dressed in black. Hair held back with two hair clasps. A pouch dangles from her arm. A drawstring wrapped around her wrinkled wrist. There is a rustle heard nearby. A small girl appears. Dress in white dress, with small imprints of daisies on it. Hair tied into a braid. Timidly she inches over to the woman. The woman unravels the drawstring from her wrist. She opens the pouch, and five small stone fall into her lap. Each stone is unique in its own way. Different sizes, shapes and textures. The little girl is face to face with the woman. She hands her each stone carefully, and with great care. She holds the stone and with each stone she tells her wish for the little girl The first stone with the inscription STRENGHT. My wish is that you have the strength to endure the past, the present, the future. To fight all the evil and conquer it in the name of good. Next comes CREATE My wish is for you to create memories. Some of them good and some of them bad. To even life out. And that each bad memory you create only equals more memories that are good. Then DREAM My wish is that your dreams come true in your life, as well as the people around you. Next MAGIC My wish is that your days been filled with magic, both unreal and real. Both created by you, and created by other people around you. Finally WISH My wish is that these wishes as well as many others to come your way. Also, that each wish is better then the last one. The little girl admires the stones. The woman opens the pouch and picks each stone one at a time, and places them in the pouch. The woman hands the pouch to the little girl and says “For safe keeping” The little girl smiles and runs out the door. Giggles are heard. The woman continues to rock.
0
Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 4:01 PM UTC
WISHING STONES
An old, frail woman sits in rocking chair. Rocking slowly, gently, back and forth. The floorboards beneath her creek softly. She is dressed in black. Hair held back with two hair clasps. A pouch dangles from her arm. A drawstring wrapped around her wrinkled wrist. There is a rustle heard nearby. A small girl appears. Dress in white dress, with small imprints of daisies on it. Hair tied into a braid. Timidly she inches over to the woman. The woman unravels the drawstring from her wrist. She opens the pouch, and five small stone fall into her lap. Each stone is unique in its own way. Different sizes, shapes and textures. The little girl is face to face with the woman. She hands her each stone carefully, and with great care. She holds the stone and with each stone she tells her wish for the little girl The first stone with the inscription STRENGHT. My wish is that you have the strength to endure the past, the present, the future. To fight all the evil and conquer it in the name of good. Next comes CREATE My wish is for you to create memories. Some of them good and some of them bad. To even life out. And that each bad memory you create only equals more memories that are good. Then DREAM My wish is that your dreams come true in your life, as well as the people around you. Next MAGIC My wish is that your days been filled with magic, both unreal and real. Both created by you, and created by other people around you. Finally WISH My wish is that these wishes as well as many others to come your way. Also, that each wish is better then the last one. The little girl admires the stones. The woman opens the pouch and picks each stone one at a time, and places them in the pouch. The woman hands the pouch to the little girl and says “For safe keeping” The little girl smiles and runs out the door. Giggles are heard. The woman continues to rock.
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34
Blood is poured across my body as I lie here These priests are priests of sacrifice Sacrifice of blood, body and humans They pleasure in ****** and grotesque displays of death They will laugh maniacally while they stab women to death And have a smile of sated pleasure standing over a child's corpse Their god is nonexistent As most gods are But lying on this altar with blood over me I feel a presencelo Of power and vicious tyranny Is this maybe their god I feel Or my own fear attacking me and making mr feel it But somehow I still feel it Then a voices like black blood Like lifeless horror Like grotesque sadism Like everything I have ever feared It says "MINE" And across my vision I see a smile That saps all my strenght and resilience And qttacks my soul And with that I loose will and let the knife slid into my heart without caring
0
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 3:20 PM UTC
Sacrifice
Come dream with me my love, Feel what it's like to be young and alive once again. I know there are dragons and fire and chains, and the tower you're in has become home and you feel safe in there. But it's still a prison that holds you, and I know how you cry through the lonely nights, and I know all your princes deserted you, and I know that hope has laid you bare. How I long to fight for you. I know I'm only a poor boy, and I have all my own demons still to face. But I want to build you a castle of comfort, a free place where you can wake up to my smile. I hate the scars they've left on your heart, and the way the crushed your wings. I know your strenght is weak my love, I just need you to say yes and to take my hand.
0
Jan 25, 2010
Jan 25, 2010 at 8:51 PM UTC
I'm Not Leaving
You could've left, honestly I wouldn't have blamed you. You could've left, but you didn't. Instead you drew your sword, fully armoured. Alongside with me you fought. Slayed my demons one by one. When my strenght ran out you held the frontline. I see you rise and fall, only to rise again. You fight and you bleed, for me. My best friend, know that I'm always ready. Ready to fight for you, I'll slay 'till my last breath. For you. I love you my swordsman.
0
Jun 17, 2020
Jun 17, 2020 at 4:58 AM UTC
Swordsman
As Cummings reminds us, death was never a parentheses, or a question, or a way of leaving, but mostly, an intimacy between this world and another. Consider Caesar, and how he never asked why, or got angry, or held it against him, but instead looked up at Brutus with all the strenght that could come from a dying heart, and said "You too, my child?" Some things are even too much for our world to hold. Even war shows us that once it's over, you can never let any of it stay with you, and happiness works just like that too. And now, even as you read this, knowing that the most beautiful of things rarely ever repeat themselves, you wrote to her saying "I am still afraid of feeling so alive in a world that never keeps anything forever" but it does keep everything forever. it takes all that it knows, and puts it in people and we just look for the ways that will keep all of it alive. And remember how when we die, the body flushed rigomortus, will cause the hand to cling to the last thing in its grip.
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Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 5:52 PM UTC
Men Without Women
Sam, not Your name I read Your past,no one to blame, Sam,please do not be ashamed, It's fine,You're still my man Sam,my man,was someone's man I tried to be a stranger with strenght here in my chest, Jealously like a rushing train provoking my brain, But Sam,hun, Were was,,past Sam,I read two thousand and nine on a blog, and met You in Your creating spot, I saw girls I felt You from years Were in love Were lonely Were thinking Were random Were messy Were missing someone Where we haven't met yet Where was I? Sam,how was your love life? In a club with music made You alive Wine one sip or two,did U like? Fake love for a nite While u were thinking of previous lovers Sam,how did U feel? When U were tired n ill U just wanted to have fun alone While U were thinking of home? Sam,I'm jealous Once U wrote to someone but now I'm writting You I still have no clue O Sam,,, I'm helpless But sam,thanks for letting me in Part of U to be seen Sam,hun Pick me up at ten, (DEAB April 9 2011)
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Apr 11, 2011
Apr 11, 2011 at 8:00 AM UTC
Writting Sam
With ease my skin feels yours and scars meet soft kisses of red lips bruised by whispered words of love so strong it bruised our hearts too. Even time stills to allow our hands to connect and lock a promise I'd repeat forever again. The moon watches over us in this fragile moment filled with nothing but our vulnerability. A present An offering To you, my love As we melt in this everlasting fraction of Time that's only ours. Your eyes shining with more than my troubled awkard simple words could ever dare to explain. Ineffable is your elegance when your velvet touch makes me shiver. Gives me peace. A warmth you gift to me with such strenght from snapping all the ties keeping you in a dark dungeon full of voices, neither yours nor mine. But it's fine my love, We can bring down all your walls with nothing more than our passion.
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Dec 12, 2020
Dec 12, 2020 at 1:26 PM UTC
Passion
Endlessly... we fall... connecting through cognetive strenght as we endeavor the practice of never looking back... trembling hands reaching out for intricate parts of reality... concerned... we fall... Positive emotions dance happily as morning mist turns into droplets that run down the side of your face like tears and I rejoice while we climb as high as can be, up into the sky, over the clouds - over the sea time slows down... stops... endlessly... we fly! Freefalling ... waiting for the wacky 'chute to open Falling further and further away from the ground silently ... without a sound ... we rise
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Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 8:35 PM UTC
the peculiarities of life
Your right im making excuses The real reason I cant be with you is because I'm to scared to Every person I have ever loved in my life has died or turned bad and I cant have your heart of gold turn black because of me I cant have anymore people cease to survive so i try and stay away its the only way i keep the people i love alive and its the only reason I feel dead inside Yeah she hurt me but thats not why I cry I cry because I hurt her she left me but it was my fault I am the one who reopened all her scars and now she cuts every night more hurt inside dont you see people are hurting because of me and my value is not in pieces because I am in shards all i do is hurt people and i break through it all I am not strong I am weak the only strenght you seee is the strenght i get from you you are the one who inspires me but i cant get to close I have to stay in my hole get away from me I dont want to break anymore souls I dont wanna hurt you please just go
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Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 11:03 PM UTC
Please
I have always been a lot to handle; I feel too much, talk too much. My sensitivity is my weakness And my strenght. I can feel the Earth moving Under my feet, I can hear the wind praying, And the song of the sea. And the forests, they call me To explore them all. But I'm in the city, So how can I hear their voice? There is so much to me, From loud laughter to excessive talks, From quiet nights filled with thinking, All the way to stupid jokes. A storm rages inside my head, Ready to sink all the ships To the bottom of the sea, So please be a submarine. Explore my depths, love them all, For no one else was brave enough To stay and try to tame my soul. I think you will be the first to know The real me.
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Feb 26, 2019
Feb 26, 2019 at 1:10 AM UTC
The Real Me
Sipping Red Wine With Disciplined disciples Dining With minds alike Best friends, Next of kin I repent For my sins Then Hug my worst enemy As she Kisses me On the cheek... "Here's my toast, A final cheer" I raise Out my chair Hold my glass In the air Final words spoken In red "Momento Mori Remember the Alive Soon becomes Dead!" Lips stained And wiped With bread My Body And Blood Portrays The art Of Me Spilling my heart As I talk Of My Final walk Remembered For ages to come The pages will turn As nuns Thumb Through my revelations Revealed To show my appeal For Keeping it rea lEveryone stands Clap hands I give the Cue to sit Then Follow in suit Before The crucifix Suited in an outfit That helps My family Come to grips With The Final dip Into oblivion Rest assure The rest's assured With a promised That God keeps Strenght Will be Bestowed Upon the weak Faith Is best owed To the one Who speaks "Let There Be Light" And brightens The darkness Of life I Will take the pain Of a thousand deaths Take a thousand steps With the wieght Of the world on my shoulders As I pass away For my best freinds sins As he watches me Silently Violently whipped As blood drips On a red shirt Tye dyed From the wine I sipped The night before I died
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Oct 3, 2010
Oct 3, 2010 at 10:10 PM UTC
Red Wine
Hear that? crackling... rough crunching... Stop it. Nothing is really there. You're just being paranoid. Such innocence, such weakness. I have you. You so easily sustain my existence. Expanding, educating, strengthening. Your power evanesces, demonic **** Some day strenght will favour another.
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Aug 25, 2012
Aug 25, 2012 at 3:05 AM UTC
Phobic