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Tom Leveille Feb 2014
you are inches
measured by miles away
bulldozing oriental food
you don't intend on eating
around your plate
and i am imagining
the translation of asking
for a broom in a foreign language
for when you shatter over small talk
or the first sentence to start with "so"
breaks you into shaking
that i can feel from across the table
and i am thinking now
about tectonics and how you must be daydreaming of being submerged in a book
back home or gripping tightly
to bedsheets begging for familiar warmth
i can tell by the way you are looking at me
that you are feigning our salutation embrace
seconds drowned in ankle deep water and i wonder if you see my hands
as jackhammers and if the reason
why you hug so hard
but only for a moment
is to be as sharp as possible
so that i do not smell your perfume
or notice that you aren't wearing any and why
there are few suprises
in the safe you claim is a mouth
where shades of plush pink
hide a sickly pallor
and i continue to look over
brick & mortar borders
and think how maybe
she is thinking of kissing
but certainly not me
not these apologies nailed to my face
i give myself a moment
of benefitted doubt that you sometimes
picture your frame under mine
and if your clavicles would crack
if i were to touch them
i am sorry that i am a victim of imagination
but i swear i chalk it up
as the forgotten feeling
for when you look up
and the person you are looking
at is gazing directly at you
you have painted yourself
as a mosaic in my mind
as a mess of dust & incoherent words
that all sound like please in my ears
but that doesn't explain why
my hands are the ones that are shaking
when i imagine you
imagining me
in the spaces of yourself
where you've forgotten
you could put someone
20612 Oct 2012
Life is a roller coaster,
So full of suprises,
The twists, the turns,
The descending track,
The breathtaking rises,
Just a three letter name was all we said,
Now it’s the only thing repeating in my head,
Life is so special, our ancestors ranted,
It takes us a death, to not take it for granted,
I met you the summer of 2006,
You could shatter people’s bones like stones and sticks,
Yet you still were so kind and content,
If we had a problem, then to you we would vent,
A MAN among boys some people would say,
A towering figure that’s now passed away,
A smile among words is all that we needed,
Instead we just hated and in life we just cheated,
You’d walk through the halls and light up the room,
You’d light up our hearts and teach us to bloom,
For life is so sacred, and now on our ride,
We’ll never forget that you were by our side,
I saw you on Monday when I awoken,
You looked at me and smiled and no words were spoken,
Now as you ride the trip into heaven,
Our prayers are with you and your family 24/7,
I just saw you Thursday for a final time,
You were smiling and i shook your hand,
Now go and shake God's now my friend,
Always remember that we'll meet again,
Sooner or later when we reach the end.
RIP Man Mai 4-18
Erali Pisce Apr 2015
He is good.
He suprises me with how good he really is.
He makes me,
well,
happy.
Can you believe it?
Sometimes I can't.
He loves  me.
This
panamourous,
gender fluid,
mermaid.
pagan,
creature
that I am.
I didn't really think that was possible.
Not because I am not deserving of love.
Just that I am different.
He loves my different.
He is in love with my different.
life it has surprises each and everyday

we just never know what life will bring our way

sometimes it is good sometimes it is bad

they can make you happy then turn it into sad.



we just carry on like we have to do

we all learn to cope what life brings to you

thats the way it is the each and everyday

we just never know what life will bring our way
joel jokonia Mar 2018
Um spoiled for choice
As i look at all these beautiful african girls
I like  i like oMampofu
So. Filled with life
They sparkle with untired enthusiasm
Waiting to explore. To kno more, knowledge seekers
Leaning on life's edges....they excite me
But then i really do fear the power
oMaSibanda , abangehlulwa thambo strong women
They stand tall to life's demons
Ever open claws defending her family
I bite my lips as i ponder over
OmaKhumalo.,, the royal blood of amandebele
Enadla umuntu limyenga ngendaba
Uphelele lomfazi as she walks kudikiza umhlaba
Their skin so smooth dreams glide through it
And they know it
so they leave trails of pride when they pass by

I am spoiled of choice
Really the african girls are beautiful
I sometimes lose myself in the fine tuned voices
Of oMaNcube
OMpangazitha   bluberring sweet nothings
With a thousand stars held in her eyes
She suprises me sometimes
how she paints dark hours
Into abstract art with no care at all
Bending the rules to capture a smile

OmaMoyo power in speech
Their tongue builds a nation
For Her lips even with such authority stills spill lustful imaginations
Um spoilt for choice
Africa is beautiful such beautiful daisies
The humble sweet Mandlovu, ogatsheni, ontaba engabhodwa ngale kwayo
Big heart and such understanding
Silently holding up cries within
Soundproofing the screams of pain
With a smile that melts my soul
And oooh
OMaNyathi with natural yellow skin
Light beings colouring our dark covers
Uyapenda isizwe,
Obuhle obungakhuzeki
Confidently Conqouring man's heart
Um spoiled for choice
These sons of africa have made pillars of daughters
Each tribe holds omama, oauntie, ogogo, odadewethu,
Black African ladies
Forged in the wilds of africa
Taught to respect and love
I crown all african ladies
With fresh picked daises of my appreciation
For you..... You ladies of Africa you are
Queens
Cause of every imperfection
With every stumble,
Every struggle
You dont let trouble cling on
You walk on
high in your red stiletos
Tight brown pumps,
Black polished sandals
And dust off yesterday's thoughts
Cause u kno today is another day
Another chance to conquor
But if you dnt today u still wake up ivin. More equiped
Cause u an African woman

I am spoiled for choice my heart
Can not decide
My heart can not decide..
Ashanti Brown Aug 2013
A prayer is like a poem you can
say what you want and what you  feel
prayer is the message on how you want it to be
delivered to the grace of heavens.

A  poem has a certain rythm that flows that bring the
mind and the soul into peace a message that carry
through generation the peace of love and wisdom that's in a prayer.
A life that has struggles  that falls into depression without a
prayer in a life as a human. A life that has been spoken or sing
through song.

A  prayer is like a poem is a reason to live with wisdom
the praise that has been shared through music,dance, and
preaching living and un- living as a person finding a way to make it.
To hide the shame it's like a poem a story that been revealed
to a world with many different suprises.

A  prayer is like a poem deals with conflict
and tough decisions that some times pass if you are willing
to make it a prayer is like a poem.
Hollie Shantz Dec 2013
I always thought the shape of love was a circle
Only one road
No suprises or twists
No jagged edges
Or Sharp corners

Then i met you
And i realized love was the shape of a
Knife
Cold and metallic
With a dull and a sharp edge
Twisting paths all leading to one thing
Cuts
Stabs
Wounds
Scars
Pain
It's 3:00 AM and sleep won't come.
It's 3:00 AM and I'm feeling numb.

I keep trying to shut down my mind,
But it suprises me with the thoughts it'd find.

I close my eyes, curl up on the bed,
But nothing pushes away the thoughts in my head.

Too tired now to even stop them,
I lay wide awake at 3:00 AM.
Jord Dec 2013
Love has been the greatest lie
that lies face first,
on the face of this earth.

It's not about big suprises,
or the feeling that arises
under our ***** sheets.
And it's not about trophies
of the perfect;
or who looks best shirtless
on the screen in front of your face.

It's not even about waiting till marriage
and riding away on a diamond carriage
to your beautiful honeymoon
on which you two, will stay true
to one another
and love eachother
in sickness
and health,
and one day, hopefully, wealth
for your beautiful children
and their futures.

It's about completely changing your view on the world,
as a worldly figure is now your homeland,
And noticing how colors seem brighter
in the daytime, and heavier in the dead of the night.
It's about feeling like you could die,
but at the very same time, loving life
like you never felt before.
It's about feeling what's right
in the midst of all the wrong
in this life:

Love
nights are wonderful
softening all shapes
taking off daylight’s sharp glare
we walk into
   a fuzzy unknown
   full of possible suprises

nights are terrible
turning familiar shapes
into threatening demons

nights are sensuous
in beloved arms
never to end
cozy and warm
times to remember

nights are strange
we spend them
doing things
for which the day
has left
no space

reading
   a trivial book
establishing the illusion
   of control
   over our daily lives

   nights are
   the dream world
   where we act out
   what we not dare to live

   nights
   are the backstage
   of our souls

where we rehearse
the visions of our life

the cast changes
the plot
   or what we take for it
remains the same

   we muddle on
   in darkness

taking for granted that
daylight
will come again
and show us
that the dark is
just
the flip side of the coin

forever waiting
until
one bright sunny day
you embrace it and say
“Come with me!”
Lucas LaBounty Oct 2011
Into the ocean, into the deep
Into the darkness, down I sweep
Into my mind these dark thioughts seep,
Taking the only luxury I keep.
Reserved and restrained, lost in plain sight
Not hidden by familiar shadows,
Rather a dull gray shade that falls upon me.
Insights to a past life through ink on paper,
Forgotten in mourning, focused on what is not
What is not there, no one seems to care.
Not wasting a life in grasping,
Reaching for what was lost, what was taken away
Never a release, just holding
Onto past lives lost in love, holding
Onto the same feelings,
The same highs and lows
Live life searching, looking for a new love,
Not the mundane pain that is welcomed now.
The silver lining, showing through the dark clouds
Swarming thicker, all around me
Confused feelings are surrendered
Through the passing of a note from my hands to yours.
Never regained, never the same
Uncertainty kills, and ignorance blinds, yet it heals
Built up to be broken down in cycle
Endless or so we think.
Suprises numb, knowledge strains,
Difference cuts
Through the veil that makes you think
Everything’s all right.
Not for long now, not as long as we think.
Pain strengthens, then hope lifts us higher
Only to fall lower, though never quite reaching
Not touching the bottom, the deepest of ourselves
Unchecked they run, freely so they think
The assurances of constant safety
It all disappears
In the end
When none of it matters anymore
You realize that it did
And more than you know.
Beautiful music, heard no longer
No longer shining, fallen to the ground
Welcome the pride, fall from grace
Fade into the night, pained by the darkness
Never really goodbye,
Pained by the absence
Of your voice in my head
Of your face in my eyes
Yet I do it in vain
And I remember the pain,
The highs and the lows
The sighs and the “no’s”
Of a love thought endless
There for me no more,
Chilled to the bone, frozen to the core
Broken down inside, never waking up,
You were there in the void.
The darkness of my mind
Is made more so by the absence of you in my life
More than you know
wave Jan 2015
Night wilds
mouths drink
He smiles
she winks

Chest stacked
eyes fixed
Looks back
he's  hexed

Knobs turn
doors swing
Passions yearn
minds sing

Doors close
mouths clutch
Clothes loosen
fingers touch

Candle sways
eyes adjust
Music plays
concious lust

Bed begs
bodies prone
Hips wedged
voices moan

Carnal urges
friction increases
****** bursts
prolonged species

Souls delighted
bodies tired
Sleep enlightened
dreams inspired

Sun rises
light shines
Morning suprises
eyes whine

Questions plenty
nothing said
Movements quickly
aching heads

"Want coffee?"
"Ah no"
"What about?"
"Gotta go!"
Something to be said for de-laid gratification
Debanjana Saha Oct 2018
We escaped in each other
Day in and day out
For weeks, months and year
Laughter full of suprises
Cracking of jokes
Never ending night walks
And long drives accompanying
The moonlight beans
We escaped in each other
So as to forget our past
To forget all the guilt
To forget all the baggage
Which we carry otherwise!

One fine day reality struck
And we fell off
Nowhere to escape
No commitments at all
No where to escape
No more returning back
No more crossing each other's path

No more
We cooled off
Now completely off!
No more laughter
No more jokes
No more walks
Only lonely paths
To explore within ourselves
And not each other!
An unspoken love story which ended in silence with love frozen within ourselves!
Zachary William Jun 2017
Life is full
of surprises
like that time
the repair shop
told you that the
checkup on your
car was a courtesy
and then told you that
their courtesy would
cost you fifty dollars
but if you brought the car
back and did the repairs with
them,
they would take that fifty dollars
off the repair costs.

Reminds me of that time
we were rescued
out of the selflessness
of her heart
and were expected
not to flinch at her hand
held out,
waiting for infinite gratitude.
One,
Of no importance I am
"This poor chap"
They said
"To no point,'this' has no future "
They stressed.
I kept to myself and did what I could
My replies were cheap
They gave me no oxygen
They gave no friendship
They have me no time.
I kept to myself and did what i could .

Two.
Out of my slumber
The star of success I met
The key to passing an exam
The key to winning over great people
How crazy I turned
I cannot tell
Teachers became my best
Great people their tail
they mocked of my tender age
Harrasing me and saying
"Boi,go tell mwalimu"
I kept to myself and did what I could

Three.
Secret admirers
No open points to meet
Just silence and feeling the love commotions
respect and joy began to grow
People started hiding their nature
A fake sight of happiness and involving
Fake attention and forced smiles
In one way I feel them but held back by some force
I felt alone though
And could brush myself over twigs on my way
Pleasure in comparable
Moved by my own words
Having a shocking stand
Guided by my own signs
Greater a move I felt
But still,
I kept to myself and did what I could.

Four.
Thinking big
Planning great
Openness and suprises
"How great can this man be"
They wondered
Full trust from all
Young and old
Respect and joy
Carefully planning my steps
"How could I be such?''
I could ask myself
Fear of loss and doubts of my nature
Firm decision and standing ideas
How great at my 24?
My aims bigger that biggest×
More than most×
But still not the best.
I am keeping to myself and doing what I can.
The scope of my winding life
Great story developing
From grass and heading to grace
From scratch,you can have my story !!!!!!!
Kirui™
betterdays Mar 2017
it still suprises me
how gentle his fingers
can touch and tease my skin

his mouth so insistent
to find the pulseline at my neck
raises  goosebumps along my being

the length of him finding the depth of me

his ardour and mone still fresh as when young
though now we take time before praking
and our langour is much longer
as his fingers play on my moist and
oh so satisfied skin.

as we murmur and smile and sleep
life's little surpises are wonderfully deep
Curtis Dec 2014
It wasnt so clear
until just then

when upon her eyes
i looked within

i dreamt of eyes
A long lost friend
but what suprises
me the most
Is that i remember
just what color
they were back then
Loniefa Butler Feb 2017
I live in a cage, where my body and bones are chained to what is expected of me.
I never make a wrong blink or a comment that will blow their minds.
I keep to myself and wait until I was spoken to.
Only doing what I am expected to do, no suprises that will waste their time.
I am caged, chained to a bed, a chair, a house and a life,
where mistakes are unacceptable and failures are diasappointments.
So I think twice before I make a move and avoid the unnecessary punishments.                                                                                                                                                                                                      
I am chained to the world,
Yet I can neither see the rust of the metal but can feel the pull.
That strong influence they have on you that is hard to break,
With ideas and regulations that overflows the bucket that is already full.
I ran to the corner that was empty yet a wall appeared before me.
Then another and another.
Unaware of where they came from but is getting stronger and stronger.
I look around and I see society dragging me in chains.
I bled ever second as my knee grazed upon  the wet grown that was just drowned by the rain.
I was pulled into a world where individuality no longer exisited and everyone wanted to be someone else.
So they dressed up as the shadows in the sky and in the process lost themselves.
I broke myself to get rid of the chains I wore.
Came back to my home and recreated myself because I wanted to be more.
Not of what society wanted me to be,
But of what I wanted to change and evolve to.
Because there is only one person in the world you can be,
The shadow in the sky or the renovated version of you.
Mateuš Conrad May 2020
with no real reference to u2: i still haven't found
what i'm looking for -
which is music in a nutshell...

            hell... with all those guitar virtuosos...
to name a few... joe satriani...
                           john petrucci or steve vai...
but it wasn't what i was looking for...

   working backwards... something on the lines
of tom verlain...
      something: more laid back - guitar music:
sometimes lyrics are... bothersome -
              
           well... and the virtuoso music is simply:
a mood killer...
then the youtube algorithm starts
to glitch and fond memories of the jukebox
pop up like phosporescent moles...

            tommy guerrero...
                              no mans land...
                     a real shame to be writing anything
while this is playing in the background...
i'd settle for a wasp's nest of a head -
busy body me with both hands tied -
sipping a ms. amber in a corset and stockings
(bourbon) with some pepsi through
a straw...

                      i did think i was looking for
this something with egberto gismonti's solo...
apparently not...

   and for all its worth: the cut-off point...
i.e. what was once a calm revelation
of a lake...
becomes a frothing waterfall:

sometimes words are like bones anc concrete...
but me, being lazy...
                 teasing dyslexia or...
whatever...
                       you can say all you want
about... kevin spacey...
i'm not going to play the devil's advocate...
but...
                drift off... drifting off...
the required amount of prescriptive sleep...
no dreams...
i so too thought: i thought so too...
we wouldn't be buying sleep and dreams
over the counter...
big pharma excavations....

lester burnham...
and of course... kaiser sow'z'eh...
          sure... otherwise a kim novak /
     james stewart...

                      proper immigration:
send us your women... your ukranian... women...
and the brain-drain:
the best folk...
blah blah blah... blah blah...
what a load of...
glued to the concept of island:
easy to spot a border...
i guess...
                   it's always the carte blanches:
of a cate blanchetts and neurosurgeons
that make it...

no wonder... rewards in ***...
hmm... how about a genocide worth of *****
into a tissue... flushed...
gets the blood boiling...
Paris pre and during and "sort of"
after lockdown...
spike in female depression... no no...
this that and the other...

    so much more with... ****** and ***** banks...
i feel truly sorry for... women...
that will have to give birth to...
worker ants... construction workers...
not those pretty battersea shelter for
"stray" cats and dogs "nurses"...
i will  feel really sorry for the women
who will have to "forget"...
what's that term... hyper-... no...
  gyro- no... hyperbolic... no no nein!

hypergamy! yeah... and some women will
clearly not... up and up and more up...
if only i were a milkman's son...
a tiny little enclave... a stage...
the sea... the cliffs: i the next...
fisherman... the next trucker...

women of the world unite!
but this article... rage...
women don't need men:
of the same class - of the same dada venture...
the same dandies the same:
throws out a perfectly good electrical appliance...
because... "forgot" to check the plug fuse...
same ****... different cover...
all stereotypes... slavs are good workers...
all the plumbers and electricians
circa 2004 - 2018 were polacks...

everyone's a ******* poet over in:
englishland...
and a journalist...
and a whitney houston diva!
        well... no mistake there...
since all the n.h.s. nurses are dancing tiktok...
and...
i once thought it was: slavery...
unless: but i was... wrong...
about that well explained aspect of:
not a slave... but... rather...
being... conscientious...

          well... if you say it like that...
the ex-patriates who had tea with mussolini...
they weren't immigrants or:
high price of culture...
nor that anywhere west of the river Oder
experienced the cultural enrichment
of: that one-time-hit of mongolia and
the golden **** horde...
or that... some pakistanis still have a name:
muhammad... and a surname: khan...

it could be worse... it could be... much worse...
i could be... circumcised...

hell... have children: teach them how to ride
a bicycle: have them listen to mylo's
sunworshipper -
or stick around aging people...
walk up and down creaking wooden stairs...
and hear them snore...
while the bed lamp is still on...

with children and the fear of the dark...
with aging people and the fear
of death... and that's the middle ground
of focus...

royskopp - so easy - elevator music...
horror movie soundtrack:
nostalgia for the 1950s / 1960s
of the 20th century...
now... i can almost understand...
nostalgia for... circa:
the three muskateers...
         vikings...
                            but this sort of
nostalgia: "early on"... em...
the graveyard is the new musuem
with the added splash of al fresco artistry:
the wind, the shine, the peckish sparrows...
the rain...
the hot the cold...

'french single women were supposed
to be miserable on their own...
      thrilled from the pressure to hook
up' - adam sage...
          sage my st. augustine's sololoqui
burnt and smothered in sand-paper...
***...
            
   the world of *** toys and ***** banks...
and... casual joe says:
tables and chairs... brick walls...
buildings... magically popping up...
thin again! thinning air...

oh... i'm not *******... the french ladies
the english ladies don't really care much
for: women of the world unite...
press the war button...
otherwise an invasion is riddled
without bullets of rifles...
written on a postcard: wish?!
i'm coming over...

                     who's paying for the viewcount
of / and credibility?
heidegger and blue boy: remember me:
i'm asking... me standing before
the mirror - in half of adam's attire...
whithered: en vogue...

                  musik for the jilted generation...
heated debated looking for alternatives...

*** toys and ***** banks...
       white knights and... placebo hearts...
how i sometimes wish...
this was an abortion of a beethoven
and this was the medium of the grave...

i would much have better not been sold:
the child, the boy...
whatever that was circa up to the age of 21...
dress me up... in stilletos...
and horse reins and claps...
and tell me: plough this 'ere field...
better that... than the myth of the child of man...
that man is ever a child...
beside the lie in waiting...
tugged and pulled along...
    constipated / claustrophobic language:
that much i can understand...

i wish for having pristine:
leather like skin...
but since my skin: isn't doing my bidding:
that i am doing its (bidding)...
fur... living fur... cats for cuddles...
there's one sleeping in my bed...
right now: and i know that if i pick her
up... one of those bath floating ducks
playthings of a box of music of meows...

sensations: regarded as bone thinning...
and via tooth-loss inspired:
fwench kissing...

- junk-box of suprises - as random as a kandinsky
canvas or a burrough's paragraph...
better this kid achieved maturity
within the confines of an abortion...
than... this... one sure short: missing ******:
insert - ***** and ditto...
the constipated and less so:
islamic harem of the martyrs...
when three holes are given the liberal
shakedown...

to be shamed by *******:
when one isn't conscripted into
               circumcision: that flake
of living skin: the new niqab...
is like: the old, the new, the old...
moral compass of mommy kiss your cherubs
goodnight... **** daddy's **** prior...

wunderbar!
                    learn from spewing stewart...
learn a ditto: at least...
learn:
|
|
|
|  this is how you get a marker and decide
on how a paragraph begins...
cooking a slice of tender beef: aside...
into the beauty of a mid-western...
half baked cookies...
cookie dough jam: the ice-cream...
the crucifixions of no new tomorrow -
the same old... replica of constipation...
and... orthodox jews learning the violin...
like it's a slaughterhosue for horses -
and by miracle of the ching-chang-wall'ah...
prunes! prunes of the squirm!
lemon meets Paris...
meets... lemon meets...
a wine connoisseur... mr. lemon has
a busy schedule... all of asia... "practically"...
mr. lemon arrives in beijing...
                  suddenly the concept of batman
spawns... a centipede torso of...
availability of movement...

cul de sac protests! of course...
bag a cockerely and interrogate him in...
finnish!
it's as if... "they" almost forgot... to...
circumcise and castrate...
and have a 1UP on us... for that...,
much desired... quack!
choir of castrated oink voltaires:
no... those we call...

                    Sardinian...
                                 and tenors...
and: purple ******* sacks of a culmination
of a beard / stubble...
all bishop: all kosher... the voice!
the crescendo: better: unlike rain on
copper roof plating... tulips in goth...
goth: some would call...
strawberries: looking plump...
as juicy... and edible...
             come the cushions of a december
plough...
                  
            i much agree for the concerns
of the: seasonal dietitians...
root veg through winter...
the rest will follow: choir imperatives...
            
             tap tap... drum-roll: more chaotic...
and all the right: lost precisions...
akin to the enigma of:
the ballett of soft teasing snow...
come night and the toll of moon...
                  
            striding to find accents of heaven...
with worded: brush strokes of
the easily irritated fathomability:
bulk prize - it's still... a ******* square...
leaning tower of Pisa or cubism...
Picasso or no... Picasso...

all are waiting, the encore,
the alphabet... the encyclopedic entries...
suggesting: no banter for a worth if a wriggling
seance worth of shrapnel...
or that... arachnophobia:
and the scuttling spiders...
or the ones you touch... coin-flip...
limps stressed: tense... folded...
preteding to... play dead is all they ever do...

tommy the satire gun: ownership contra
worship... like... something from
a ***** universe...
before the sober judge...
before the sobering jury...
the drinking... "aristocrat" of accusations...
i drink... i drink...
because that's when i tend to scubadive...
skydive... i tend to spew: stew...
tell the truth... that drinking and listening
to music is one of those hazard free
"side-projects"...

        i find my heart among the sparrows...
such is their love for life...
i find my tongue among the crows
and magpies:
such is their critique of life: per se...
i find my feet in that magic carpet ride
of the widow swan:
a fate near impossible... nay...
completely: not near: impossible!
petting a dog for its worth of thick
cranium...
   circles galore! circles and circles...
this is not me stroking a leash...
or.. being fidget genius
over a muzzle...

        thumbs up: the ****...
                   more sparkle?
more colour? more dehydrated shrimp
paste? shrimp *****
and mr. lemon serves up:
an experience of tourism from beijing,..
mongolian squint eye:
squiggly noon ugh... sun...

warsaw the parade of ghosts and echoes...
esp. the underground
when the trains roll in from Kiev
and further east...
karma-alcoholic & cinderella "ulterior"
opt outs...
            by best decipher for ads...
i.e. counter... oculus per oculus:
eye for an eye...  shylock and i agree...
a violin for a violin...
a horse's mane for a bow...

                             better than: the end...
             ditto...
                            lady justice gave both her
eyes up... to pressure
a box into abiding by rules
of the guillotine...
  like hell: will this supposed soul...
this branch of learning:
psychology and the logic of non-existence...
ever...
because of how asthma and irregular
breathing... mr. itsy-witsy
and mr. boogie rain-man..

                             **** up and **** with
the readily available...
i'll watch...        a best canape of voyeurism...
is akin to: faking a pose of
atlas... when... performing the banality
of the metaphor of sisyphus.
Jay earnest Mar 2021
Ohhh
too sensitive.

I'm depressed and get told to cut my wrists. That hurt because I have.
I need to stop being an idealist ,
Maybe I thrive on pain but it gets a little old.  I just wanna drift by on good vibes.
Tired of the suspense
I don't need the suprises. Give Me the shot to numb, and in the morning recall your life.  Not a test, just a sad dream

Zzzzzzzz
grumpy thumb Sep 2017
When you Fall in love
no guessing how you'll land
never as planned
could strike it lucky
tick all the boxes like
noughts and crosses
impulsive as lips's
compulsive kisses
vows and promises,
but sometimes
you run dry of suprises.
It can wither and splinter
beyond reconciliation
through nobody's fault
despite careful consideration.
Perhaps you never land
when you fall in love
only when you fall out.
Just musing nothing personal
AK93 Sep 2016
This hollow island on the eastern coast holds no secrets or suprises. All we have are long beaches, some highways, fishermen and sunrises.
Akta Agarwal May 2021
To trust someone is so hard
but when you trust someone it's from your heart
and when they backstabbed you its hurt to the core of heart
Life is full of suprises
The kind of surprise
you never expected
Its seems funny sometimes
But it's the bitter truth
which we have to except
After getting hurt so many times
that made someone trust less
The pain which a person feel
when their innocent trust get broken
when they were little
and their soul is pure
Its hurt very hard
That that pain never ends.

— The End —