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"surive" poems
wings of birds were stolen by the gods, centuries ago an earth's day lasts for 86, 400.002 seconds children are roaming in the mind of these lines they are counting, playfully and without feelings days come and go, they float through our lives i wrote about the stages of dreams and dreamt of an ******** the ruins of old poems are silver, blue and red remains of a day's thoughts, decoded and clear, similarly it is not wise to count seconds while you are breathing it is not wise to count on people while they are leaving it is strange to use "wise" in order to refer to cleverness people of color may feel excluded by our languages in german, "white" is called "weiß" and that sounds like "wise" explain to me the origins of such a word, i demand it before the river will have swallowed me; i demand an answer poems come, poems go, leave a trace, stain – and a change fools are flodding the streets in order to have a five o'clock tea proudly, they are talking about their old heroes, bearded conquerors these guys nevah really wanted to dig strangaz, dey killed 'em. they killed unknown people, they stabbed my dreams they murdered ancestors because they were used to murdering they invented words without speaking but grinning power is an invisible instrument that consists of hierarchies power is what we see and oversee, power is the origin of wars wars are the origin of despair; and that is nothing new wars, though, may be invisible and silent, just in the mind what is a war, does a war need bombs, guns and soldiers? wars occur everywhere, daily, within 86, 400.002 seconds the length of a day is measured in numbers; they are just inventions numbers are man-made, animals orient on the sun and the moon humans celebrate planets and write poems about them we all will surive as long as we keep writing and tolerate each other
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Jun 19, 2020
Jun 19, 2020 at 9:16 AM UTC
States Of A Dream
wings of birds were stolen by the gods, centuries ago an earth's day lasts for 86, 400.002 seconds children are roaming in the mind of these lines they are counting, playfully and without feelings days come and go, they float through our lives i wrote about the stages of dreams and dreamt of an ******** the ruins of old poems are silver, blue and red remains of a day's thoughts, decoded and clear, similarly it is not wise to count seconds while you are breathing it is not wise to count on people while they are leaving it is strange to use "wise" in order to refer to cleverness people of color may feel excluded by our languages in german, "white" is called "weiß" and that sounds like "wise" explain to me the origins of such a word, i demand it before the river will have swallowed me; i demand an answer poems come, poems go, leave a trace, stain – and a change fools are flodding the streets in order to have a five o'clock tea proudly, they are talking about their old heroes, bearded conquerors these guys nevah really wanted to dig strangaz, dey killed 'em. they killed unknown people, they stabbed my dreams they murdered ancestors because they were used to murdering they invented words without speaking but grinning power is an invisible instrument that consists of hierarchies power is what we see and oversee, power is the origin of wars wars are the origin of despair; and that is nothing new wars, though, may be invisible and silent, just in the mind what is a war, does a war need bombs, guns and soldiers? wars occur everywhere, daily, within 86, 400.002 seconds the length of a day is measured in numbers; they are just inventions numbers are man-made, animals orient on the sun and the moon humans celebrate planets and write poems about them we all will surive as long as we keep writing and tolerate each other
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if you look after boredom it will grow free-flowing metaphor's boredom needs to be watered with laugher boredom cannot surive in a ordinary environment bordom should only be given narcotic once a year, in a small dose it flourishes in social settings and its natural habitat is the dancefloor
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Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 4:42 PM UTC
instructions for looking after boredom
Someone saw the rain and mention how gloomy it was. Except it was sunny to me. Long as you have the breath of life within you. Nothing is as bad as it seems. It just depends on your out look. Don't be like the rich that cried about their losses on the stock market. For, they failed to understand they was taking chances. Or the spouse still hurt from the filing of a divorce. Cause nothing is bad as it seems. In life the positive will always out weigh the negative. It just depends on your out look. If you see bad. Then bad it will be. If you chose to stay sad. Then sadness will become your theme. It depends on your out look. Who knows? God just might be challenging you to see , if you can pull through. Storms comes with devastion to challenge us. Some surive. Some don't. But in the mix of the storm. There's always a positive side to see. It just depends on your out look.
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Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 8:59 AM UTC
It Depends On Your Out Look
Lately I ve felt tattered and torn Like I'm two people One trying to forget all the bad from the past And the other wanting all the good things to last How can I get both While still holding on to me Or do I just let go And what will be will be All any of us ever want Is for the good to surive And all the bad things To be buried alive I know i need to let you go But it is so hard So many of these things Have made us who we are Who will conqure in the end An will you still want to be my friend
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Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 7:15 PM UTC
New vs the old
Reflections with pain staking recollections Watch your old self with memories of where youve been How far youve come and whats left to be seen A feeling of emptiness thats getting too deep Why look to the past when we try to live in the present Because the future is too foregone for us to reference Every mistake we made a reminder to forget And every forgotten mistake one waiting for redemption That never arrives If you shone a light in the darkest room Would you be enlightning or just a nuisance Disrupting the current order is something only the brave do And maybe the foolish too Cause death is all they brew What do we have to lose but our lives And why is yours so valuable when theres 7 billion others on the line Maybe cause we have only one as opposed to 9 But if we live it in vain then we're better off dying And if we live it too proudly then it changes before our eyes Family turns to strangers and friends to foes And true solace only comes when youre alone For you hate other people and all that they represent That one cant be strong in their own presence That one cant surive without someone to rely on That one cant stand out and be profound But only one person can ever wear the crown
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Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 6:28 PM UTC
A thinking mind
Living 𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗑𝗁𝖺𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇 life loses its meaning Happy for being 𝗌𝖺𝖽 I'm not 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗋 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖺𝖽 Just feeling empty. Hiding thoughts by 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖡𝗎𝗍 the nights keeps on reminding Finding the end of the tunnel might be hard For it is 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗈 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 Where will it gets me? Swallowed by the void No one's keeping score But you're asking what is the point Waiting for answers you wish to come Waiting for answers that may not come For everyday you wish to surive This thought should might help Perfect a lie that everything's fine And wish to believe it yourself.
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Feb 25, 2020
Feb 25, 2020 at 9:18 AM UTC
Desolation