"surpassed" poems
1. your precious smile,
that never failed to shine;
a heaven-sent beam,
that made my heart your realm.
2. your tenderness,
that gave me bliss;
how could someone be
like you, so dearly?
3. your good vibes,
that surpassed all tribes
in giving off the positivity
i need for my stubborn reality.
4. your talents,
that awakened everyone's hearts;
you are my significant inspiration,
you give life to my life's ambition.
5. your humility,
that's filled with sincerity.
while everyone else is toplofty,
you remained lowly.
not everyone as wonderful as you,
could show meekness too.
6. the happiness you shared,
at times when smiling is something
i never dared;
darling, it meant everything.
7. for your meaningful silence,
that gave me a better comprehension.
although your stillness was tense,
i knew in my heart it was never a rejection.
8. for your music,
that never halts to flourish.
music, your depiction of aesthetic;
through you, the melody will never tarnish.
9. for being your genuine self,
you gave me potency to do the same.
shamming is no longer something i'll play, for you taught me how to
end that witless game.
10. for bringing me daily sunshine,
for setting the moon & the stars aligned;
my everyday became better,
and i will treasure you forever.
there are way more reasons
on why i love you for real.
through the passing seasons
i could slowly & slowly reveal
and show you how i truly feel.
as time passes us by,
i would no longer hesitate
and keep my sentiments ensconced.
through the coming weeks, months and years,
as long as we have all the time
i would dauntlessly lay out to you
that the way i feel for you is true.
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 8:45 AM UTC
when you understand my poems perfectly then,
their utility is inutile,
their usefulness is, will. always be, in the
nth
*reinterpretation, a million and still counting,
as long as you must guess at its labyrinth inner wired construct,
be pleasured by the roiled and rolled curves upon your tongue,
two lives (yours, mine), a paired wine tasting, we together,
believing in the greatness of joyous frustration
some say, as I do, the world is better for the
utility of thine own struggled understanding,
the truest combination of two way communication,
surpassed only by our at last armed embrace,*
when at last we understand our mutuality of need and salve...
May 8, 2019
May 8, 2019 at 9:47 AM UTC
.
Snow drifts down
laying a lawn cold sheet
across the frozen ground,
creating art reliefs
like acid etching glass,
open space rolling and undulating,
in small hills and depressions,
bedecked in a veil of white.
The silence is deafening,
quiet having been enjoyed
and surpassed,
briefly punctuated by the call of a bird,
A sharp whistle that shrieks
and attacks the silence.
The fresh smell of snowfall wafts up
as it settles and glistens
in the light of silver moonbeams,
randomly peeping through clouds.
The taste of peace,
tranquility,
in the frigid air,
sends imagination soaring
from the desolation of isolation
to another time and place.
The snow falls,
falls,
in a relentless race for the ground,
all is still,
nothing stirs,
as the moor welcomes its quilt
and sleeps with a cold heart,
dreaming,
of being kissed by the Sun.
© Pagan Paul (28/05/18)
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 7:38 AM UTC
In a time,
when men were the superheroes,
born in an unconventional location,
a young girl, unknown to the future
she was destined to,
was born with a uniqueness
unfound in all people, a superpower
of empathy
and as she grew,
the world knew
she was imbued
as a living embodiment of legends:
Athena's wisdom,
beauty that surpassed the goddess Aphrodite,
conversational skills that made Hermes envious,
and strength that Hercules
could never attain.
As she approached an age, when her parents would
trust her to be guardian,
her powers manifested.
This incredible child was now a woman.
With the ability to heal those in need: she could expunge
poison that had afflicted a person,
even their hearts,
a God-given gift for those most sacred;
her correspondences exponentially developed,
able to connect in all languages, fueled by her empathetic nature,
this allowed all who interacted with her to trust her for she radiates sincerity.
Now, fully grown, this super-no-
This Wonder Woman had retired her duties
to save the world, not forsake it, but,
to train Wonder Girl, her daughter,
to unlock the latent abilities her mother had passed on to her.
She still looks up at the Higher Power
and realizes her duty to provide
the world justice is not over
but only beginning.
Her holy spirit was not unacknowledged
and was gifted
a bulletproof bracelet,
forged by the most skilled craftsman by direction
of all that is wise and healing.
Given to her to wear
so that nothing could halt her
as she continues
her fate to provide the world a humanity
that could only come from
an intrinsically true
dear heart.
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
Two years ago,
I started drowning
It wasn’t bad
At first
A little tightness
In my lungs
But nothing too bad
One year ago,
I was still drowning
The air wasn’t coming
Back into my lungs
Only ice cold
Freezing water
Blackness started
Edging into my vision
But I ignored it
Because no one else around me
Was drowning
So there was no reason why
I would be, unless
I was weak
I wasn’t weak
I wasn’t drowning
Or so I said
Six months ago
I started drowning
For real, this time
There was no denying
The fact that my hands
Were turning grey
And my lungs were crying out
But my blue lips
Didn’t part to
Let out that scream
And my grey limbs wouldn’t
Flail to show someone,
Anyone at all
That I was drowning
Five months ago,
I kept drowning
I was now far from the surface
Of the water
Where it was light blue
And warm in the
Shallow ends of this water
I had far surpassed that
I was in arctic water
Deep and cold
Murky and unfathomable
Drowning, and not making
A single sound
Thirty-six days ago
I gave into drowning
Well, I had given into it
When I decided that
Greying skin and blue lips
Was fine, for me
But now, I completely gave in
Thirty-six days ago,
I wanted to drown
But I wanted to do it faster
And so I tried to hurry up
The process of drowning
Alone, in those icy waters
Thirty-four days ago
Someone dangled an oxygen mask
In front of my blue lips
They told me to put it on
But I didn’t want to
Drowning was like anything else
Once you had spent enough time
In it, you became afraid
Of what it would be like
Without it
I knew drowning
I knew its pain, I became friends with it
I was comfortable with drowning
And I knew the outcome of it
And I was okay with it
Thirty-three days ago,
Someone jumped into that awful water
Or perhaps they didn’t
Jump in, they swam over
They forced the mask between my lips
And then they stayed
It came loose, a couple times,
And I found other people who were drowning
I hated that they were drowning
But I think that we were all a little glad
To find that we weren’t alone
In our drowning
I’ve kept my oxygen mask
I’m still in that cold water
But now I have others who make sure
That I don’t drown
And I make sure that
Their masks are affixed
They do the same for me
We save each other
And now that I have
Enough air to breathe
I can see, and I can see
Other people who
Are starting to drown
So I take all my effort and energy
And I swim to them
Most of the time, they don’t have a mask
And it hurts me to see that they’re drowning
So I give them my mask
For as long as they need
Until they have their own
Sure, it hurts me, but as long as it helps them
A while ago,
I started drowning
I kept drowning for a while
But then I found others
And together, we found our way
We found our oxygen tanks
We’re still drowning
But now, we can take in enough air
To sometimes swim
A bit closer to the surface
A bit closer to
Not drowning
A bit closer
To real life
And no matter how far we fall
The others will help us start going
To the light blue, peaceful water
Water that we won’t drown in
Dec 5, 2017
Dec 5, 2017 at 9:11 PM UTC
The most beautiful creation in all of existence is a mother.
She's surpassed only by the love she feels for her child,
or children.
She's perfect by design,
God's reflection.
She's a gentle touch in the infancy of our being,
the nurturer of adolescence,
wisdom that guides our maturity.
She's the love that fills our hearts,
keeper of our souls,
a fixture within our spirit.
She exhibits incredible strength,
especially those who bare the burden of being fathers as well.
Life is the house in which we all reside,
but a mother is Home,
that amazing.
She's an angel in the guise of woman,
all of humanity are her offspring.
A day isn't nearly enough time to express our gratitude.
It would take all of eternity.
Know that you are loved,
and greatly appreciated mothers.
Without you there would be no us.
Happy Mother's Day.
- James D. Woods
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 6:00 PM UTC
I’m every breath you make
You’re just another life I’ll take
I’m the dream you’ve never had
You’re the wish that I’ve surpassed
For every seed, I shall sow
A new weapon I will grow
For every ground, I shall till
*Greed will be there to ****
You are but a monster
For I am human nature
I am Peace
And I am You
We live in an illusion of peace
Humanity declares peace but desires war
We exist in a world of conflict, a world of mischief
For some to thrive, others must die
For some to succeed, many must be deceived..
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC
I signed up for the race you see. I was drafted to run.
They chose to pay my tuition so I could sprint at the gun.
But here's the problem that plagued me from the start.
I seemed to have left my confidence at an entirely different mark.
I showed up at the race and I didn't think I would win.
Even the sun shining down on the game looked a little grim.
What happens when your falling without any aid?
When there's no life support and you don't think you'll be saved?
What happens when you've signed on for too much?
When you can't be the athlete you want to be and you've got a limp with no crutch?
I had to figure it all out, a dark field and no map.
I had to find my confidence before I could score on attack.
I faced the coaches and dealt with their disappointed faces.
I had to move past the fact, that I had racked up some disgraces.
I cried in the showers when nobody could hear.
Letting anybody know I was weak was my biggest fear.
Because it doesn't count you see, if the shower's on.
There's already water running down and my tears always joined the marathon.
But I surpassed the doubt. I learned to dig deep.
I became that brave player on the field.
And I only cry in my sleep.
Nov 24, 2012
Nov 24, 2012 at 10:04 PM UTC
Inspired by Disney's magical kingdom,
And enchanting fantasy tales,
You've reached the learning age of five,
Leaving precious memories, deep in my heart,
Like dainty little footprints, upon a trail.
Since the first day you entered my classroom,
Shying away, in a world of your own,
And nearly in tears,
Waiting to be picked up,
And taken back home.
But you gradually surpassed this fear,
Allowing me into your life,
As I reached out with dedication,
And unconditional love,
Opening the door to your future, and watched you strive.
By quickly learning your ABC's, 123's, colors,
Sounds, and mastered the writing of your name quite early,
Including other tasks, and now it may sound effortless,
But it's a gift you've certainly gained,
And today, I'd like to wish you a safe and successful journey.
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 5:51 PM UTC
Distant island shapes beguiling
Floating ghosts of far off land
Appear sentinel as we lay
Hot and sunbathed on the sand.
Scorching beach has tricked our minds
Ever beckoning cool seas flow
Finely placed as time stands still
Myths of people long ago
Heat above the deep caldera
Yet at water’s edge a breeze
Every wave a stroke of calmness
Drags the black sand out with ease
Pushing, combing lava rock
Once a liquid burning hot
Hearts massaged by the tender noise
Deep sighs as the day burns on
Windy gusts caress unclad torsos
Smiling we hold hands out to catch
Throwing our heads back with the pleasure
Letting our warm brown frames collapse
Lazy resting towels on bodies
Sunbed dreaming, time for lunch
Decisions on the midday menu
A carafe of red or white, too much!
Later when the sun’s behind us
Deserted beaches for the night
Couples then prepare for evening
Soon tavernas come alight
Poolside dwelling welcomes back
Two weary souls from day outside
Scorching sun takes all about us
Thanks for love where we abide
Since we came and soaked our souls
In this perfect atmosphere
Love has blossomed even further
All is wonderful never fear
Patio evenings lying out
Herb aroma fills the nose
Drifting in and out of sleepy
Eyes feel heavy in repose
Cool wet noses brush our legs
Warm fur strokes a silken pass
Feline friends have come to visit
Glad that we are home at last
Nervous ******* lying still
Mewing loudly all surpassed
Two so gentle but true survivors
Bright eyes hiding traumas past
How lovely to have given respite
As more and more attached we grew
Warm and tender stroking softly
Alongside us as if they knew
Feb 3, 2010
Feb 3, 2010 at 12:11 PM UTC
I remember well my first day of preschool
When the teacher taught us the Golden Rule
And how we were all God’s little caterpillars.
I remember the love I bore my stuffed horse
And how tightly I hugged my stuffed dog with great force;
I would be the world’s best zookeeper.
I remember my parents’ copious gifts of books,
How they were more important than my friends’ good looks;
Their stories still represent my dear childhood.
I remember the first time I discovered music of my own
Through a 90s band CD I had as a loan.
I danced with my headphones like a dryad.
I know the exact date I noticed at last
How much of my life friends had seemingly surpassed
And I vowed that I could never again be happy.
The stories were never again a fully open door,
More like a ditch dug out in the floor
Behind which I could hide my face forever.
One day, songs became a desperate race
To see who could sing and play bass,
So I’ve dropped out like a sixteen-year-old kid.
Now, lying under the stars thinking of this and that
I actually cower from the once-beloved animals like cats
Because they have uncomfortable interest in worms.
I was better off a caterpillar.
Jan 31, 2011
Jan 31, 2011 at 3:58 AM UTC
she saw things that made her malfunction
she broke down to words that should've made her function.
she tortured herself with plastered screenings
repeated feelings
not wanting to be of perceiving
she was in and out of it, saw the fault line, lingered a bit.
she then took it for what it was, saw what he was, realized he never was.
Next she then meddled with hard hit reality.
she understands to not give herself up, she gets the places it'll mess up, and all she wants to go is up.
So time dwells, she wants to be over it, she wants nothing of it, only to be everything above it.
she does not self harm anymore, because she is of no harm, she is just charm.
he's made her realize that.
he's accompanied her to that.
so she thanks him for that.
she will not whither, she is winter, with personality of a spitter
she is summer with hints of glimmer
she is now full of no more sorrow, no bitterness, or self wallow
she is content, she is fluorescent.
she is better than ever yet.
the muggy cloud has gone and surpassed
therefore leaving everything in the past.
so she says,
see you later,
thanks for the class,
hope everything works out for you in your middle pass,
just remember to not let the next one pass and remember to not be an ***
with that being said with wise words from this *** that you can kiss.
hahaha so see you in the free world, and maybe then can we pass, hit a space migration for our integrations.
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 10:07 AM UTC
words conveyed with a mutual clarity parity for communication
will end only when the world ends first
and the communitas is no more,and words, exist purposelessly
for there is no left with whom to communicate, precisely
but now, of this moment,
write words, sentences multiplied but circumscribed,
verses with mystical aura,
whose utility so suspect and multiple meanings hidden within,
taken by you for the specific utility you uncover and create
ah, to write of things clearly visible to all,
but possessed differently, by each reader, this is the greatest commonsensical commonwealth useful
for and of humans indexed by unique word tendons tenderly
when this passes, when literature no longer
can be messengered to 127 Persian provinces,
each the message same,
yet given up in 127 different languages^
when you understand my poems perfectly then,
*their utility is inutile,
the usefulness is in the* nth reinterpretation,
*a million and still counting,
as long as you must guess at its labyrinth wired inner construct,
being pleasured by the roiled and rolled curves upon your tongue,
a lives paired wine tasting, together believing
in the greatness of joyous frustration
some say, I do, the world is better for the
utility of thine own struggled understanding,
the truest combination of two way communication,
surpassed only by our armed embrace at last*
p.s. Pradip, be careful what you wish for....a poet false...
9:15am April 3, 2019
Apr 3, 2019
Apr 3, 2019 at 9:29 AM UTC
[PART 1]
**** everyone that’s ever been a friend of mine
Everyone that I ever loved until the end of time
So sick of sunshine, nothing but black clouds in my mind
I Sit seeing signs knowing that sometime soon it’s time
Seems we find a man stained with blood, spinning insane ****
Disaster’s in my lane but like Tech I pin and frame it
Don’t blame it on me when you embrace the inner furry
Spitting hurried words in a flurry, speaking absurdly
Has it occurred to thee, none of you could ever hurt me?
Absurdity, I feast on emcees, no obstacles for me
Illogical, living life like a beast, it’s mythological
Must be biological, the way I ****** methodical
Psychological warfare from one who never fought fair
Pathological nightmare, drops bodies without a care
Dare any soul to try and comprehend, this is the end
Once I begin, they all cry and slowly die from within
[PART 2]
**** everybody who ever passed anywhere near me
Everybody from my past who cared and yet still feared me
Nobody shed tears for me, or ever lent an ear to me
So now it’s clear to me, none of you are sincere to me
I disappear into madness filling my words with a blackness
No amount of cannabis can ever undo this sadness
Don’t ask me about my past; don’t think you’ll get past the mask
This just might be the last time you’ll EVER hear from my ***
Demons in mass and alas, I’m tangled within their grasp
Surpassed my peers and alas, I got no angels to ask
I’m mangled in my mind and it’s worse now that I’m all grown
Evilness in my bones plus I gets no rest in my dome
But I’m home at last with this pent up anger being shown
I’m alone; not a gang banger but I still hold the chrome
Come off my throne and try and comprehend, this is the end
Once I begin, they all cry and slowly die from within
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 9:02 PM UTC
Rarely had my vision been focused in the past
and maybe for this reason the passage of time
felt as if it was little more than a forgotten dream.
I often found my eyes on an icy reflection
of a naked man standing before a fogged mirror,
fresh with the haze of a hot shower.
I would gaze upon him and he back into me,
pondering to myself "who are you stranger?"
I could only assume he thought the same of me.
I would wonder when he walked away
from that tooth paste stained portrait
if he ventured into the world with that familiar vigor,
that naive sensibility to battle
the demons,
the contradictors
and the liars.
If he too would laugh at these same fallacies in himself
with a certain kind of madness that could only touch
the ears of the few free men among us.
Those tragic spirits who dared to dance,
to transcend ancient genetics and modern culture
in hopes of touching a god they had long forsaken.
We may have given it a different name
but we were no better then the theologians before us,
we clung to our most primal desire.
It weighed upon us with such force
that hunger,
thirst
or even lust
felt like a pestering annoyance in the shadow of its glory.
Our appetite for connection far surpassed our need
to facilitate our biological deficiencies
and in those moments of understanding we reveled in the irony
of being minds trapped in fleshy bodies.
A smile crept across my face and one grew upon him.
I knew this man who stand before me,
unafraid,
bare in body
with a dastardly grin.
He was my oldest friend,
the ghost who spoke to me
in my most vulnerable moments
when no others did.
He cried for me when I could not,
would not cry for myself.
He had always been there
for me and for the first time
when I turned away from his reflection
I felt him follow too.
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 2:35 AM UTC
I have outlived suffering,
I have endured pain.
I have gently walked
thru fire and rain.
I have swallowed anger,
I have eaten sin.
I have bled
and lost what lies within.
I have surpassed doubt,
I have suppressed blame.
I have taken stock
of what remains.
I have absorbed sadness,
I have taken loss.
I have appraised the damage
and paid the cost.
I have been loveless,
I have been true.
I will never
be beaten by you.
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 2:40 AM UTC
Woman birthed. Woman raised.
I am no biproduct
donating ***** does not make one a factor
back strained, she supported me like Atlas
sheltered me with wingspan like Daedalus
her love stronger than the Greek gods
Aphrodite was her apprentice
agape her creation
her love for me surpassed my love of self
Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 8:27 PM UTC
I. “I will always love you. I need you.”
A small seed is planted
In ground that has long been barren
Any flower or tree or life that has tried to grow
Has been cut down by her own callous blade
Against olive warm flesh
Or surpassed by the loud rumblings and grumblings
Incessantly begging the girl to eat
But now,
A ceasefire
The girl is loved
She is cautious, at first
Perplexed by the boy’s affection
But he sweetly holds her hand
Looks at her with eyes of wistfulness
As if she was an intricate work of art
A thing of beauty
And she decides
To
Let
The
Seed
Grow
II. “I’m not sure how I feel anymore.”
The girl had grown into a lemon tree
Made from light and love and vitamin D
But he took away her light
He forgot to hold her hand
He looked at her with eyes of apathy
As if she had become a colorless, bland
Thing of normality
And she decides
To
Let
The
Boy
Go
III. “I’m sorry. I still need you. I want to make it work.”
The girl thought she had grown on her own
But she wilted without her sun
She cut herself down out of pity
Because all her lemons had turned sour
She was no longer beautiful
But now,
The boy returns
Sad to see that her tree is gone,
He asks to plant a seed again
But the girl is trying to plant a new seed
Her own seed to create
Her own light
Love
Beauty
So that the tree will belong to her
But she misses the boy
She struggles to find a seed to plant
Too distracted by rumblings and grumblings
Because she keeps forgetting to eat
She looks at the boy with the seed
And she decides
She
Does
Not
Know
*“One day she left without a word. She took away the sun.
And in the dark she left behind, I knew what she had done.
She'd left me for another, it's a common tale but true.
A sadder man but wiser now I sing these words to you:
Lemon tree very pretty and the lemon flower is sweet
But the fruit of the poor lemon is impossible to eat.”
(Peter, Paul & Mary – “Lemon Tree”)*
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 8:43 AM UTC
A tale,
Of two pals,
Ego possessed the former,
Self-respect imbibed the latter.
The former faced problems, complained;
The latter solved problems, smiled.
One, choosy and demanding;
Other, suitable and acceptable.
Fortunately,
Acquiring jobs,
In a corporation,
Standing at the threshold
Of promising careers,
Days rolled on
And the day arrived
For promotion.
Self-respect surpassed,
Ego lagged behind.
Thoughts converted into self-realization,
Truth revealed.
Ego satisfied merely the senses
"I want this" and "I want that"
Self-respect implied acceptance
"I respect this and I accept that."
To further proceed,
To reach the summit,
'I' and 'my' be discarded,
'We' and 'ours' be adopted.
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 7:38 AM UTC
The gap between us is bridged by telephone wires,
Crossing, spider-webbed and dappled with bird **** tangled
Into some immutable mess, surpassed only in
Confusion and chaos by the union of us.
I guess everything is dual,
Isn’t it,
All of life sick and twisted chocolate-and-vanilla soft serve swirls spiraling
Up, up, up until we hit heaven. And
If we stand on tippy-toes, arms shaking—straining—
Fingers popping with the strength of our Prometheus ambition
And we just push our struggling shoulders a little bit higher—
Maybe our wings
Will slowly rustle out.
But our pointed horns will still shift the part of our hair.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 12:46 PM UTC
California has two places we would escape the hectic bay area Central Coast and Disney land. We were staying at a smaller hotel right by Disney we got to know the owners they were very down to earth. We were setting in the glassed in game room by the pool well the husband came in with nine business men from Japan they were talking about buying his hotel. This was back when everyone bashed Japan. The next morning my wife went to the pool I was thinking about those men did I want to bash them or go a different way. God gave this to me it came in a rush it was written in fifteen minutes it is patriotic and it deals with our great blessing that is wrapped in diversity
Imposter
From where did the lie first spring
The face I show I don't even know
The truth does sting so to falsehood I cling.
Best to wear this disguise, continue with the faceless mass.
America proud land of liberty; too long it's been just a veneer.
Freedom you espouse, to have this you must clean prejudice from your house.
True greatness finally you will know, when it shines through all colors.
To do this you must rediscover the bedrock of your heritage.
Truly believe the words that say "We the people."
Words that shook the elements, only being surpassed at creations stage.
To long our apathy has been collaborating with our enemies no more.
This challenge is given to restore.
Opportunity's open door let us our energy out pour.
That freedoms passion soars, as in the past ******* it tore.
Land of light continue, Miss Liberty your lamp burning bright.
Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 4:30 AM UTC
Change in my pocket,
but no charge in the socket.
That’s where I use to be.
Heavily
lost
in a world that wasn’t mine.
Committing sin and crime,
more than this poems rhyme.
Never did I wish to be
minus 6 feet in pine.
At least,
that’s the lie I’ll stick by.
Hurt every morning. Every night I then cry.
Yet,
back at it again in the AM.
Liquor was certainly quicker and I never
lost
my
buzz,
but thank Godness it was,
because much longer and I would’ve lost my cause.
It was more than shaking paws.
I
was
a
slave.
And, alcohol was my master.
Physically, I always drank faster.
Mentally, there was too much cluster
of
self-pity and self-inflicted misery.
Spiritually………………………………….sick.
I far surpassed being a ****
Pushed away even the biggest *****
Sure.
Funny now,
but then. No then.
On the binge, waking up smelling
of Monarch in the park.
Just the thought makes me cringe.
I
Never
Hit
bottom.
I went through it.
You name it, I’ve done it.
Peed my pants in a jail pit.
Sick.
Struck my bestfriend with my mit.
Sick.
Cheated, lied, and stole way more than a little bit.
Sick.
Treated girls by the ease of their ****
Sick.
Yet.
Yet..
Yet…
Not once, did I think to quit.
Nor, did I think I was fit
to be a respectable man.
But, this life? This current life, was not my plan.
This. This is someone else’s hand.
This is metanoia.
With it,
no more paranoia.
No longer am I better or worse than.
Today, I just am.
I have a god I understand.
I’ve made amends to the fam.
I’ve seen my brother’s band.
I don’t isolate like a clam.
I’ve passed my graduate exam.
I fall asleep without spinning like a fan.
And, this story,
I promise
is no scam.
♫♪I believe in miracles♫♪,
because,
I’m a **** thing.
A girl even accepted my ring,
And I’ll admit,
I’m not perfect.
And as you heard,
I can’t sing.
But today,
I do the next right thing.
I
try
to help others
learn to be brothers,
respect people of all colors,
and to tolerate (yes! tolerate)
even their mothers.
My life is second to none, I finally found fun, and by grace
hopefully, I’m not done.
My acceptance is high and my expectations low.
Today, I even try not to steal the show.
But,
with this flow
I think I’ve found my cause
and that’s
to hear your applause.
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 2:23 PM UTC
Absence.
Lack thereof.
Without.
Lost.
Forgotten.
Absence.
An empty bed.
Lonely hearts club.
A party of one.
Quiet house.
Not even a stir.
Miles cracking as he spins and spins
Rain drop drops down the windows,
down walls
down me.
Absence.
Not good enough to be remembered.
Boring, lackluster, too easily surpassed.
A hole in the heart,
Weakness is showing emotion.
Blank face.
Death in Life.
EXILE.
Absence.
Tardiness.
A minute too late.
Detention.
No, absence.
Not here at all
was never really here
was never ever here.
Absence.
Seeing what is wanted
Not what is had.
What is had
is absence.
A lack thereof.
Nothing really at all.
Jun 14, 2012
Jun 14, 2012 at 1:32 PM UTC
I knew it wouldn't be easy but they never told me it'd be this hard
I trace layers upon layers of scars
Remembering each lesson carved into beautiful trademarks
I seek not revenge but rather to transcend
and at my wits end I find time to make peace with the screams
While watching the stream ever-changing shaping the banks of
caving earth
Dispersing tiny dismantled pieces into a deep ravine
A place unseen but the depths taunting
Muffled whispers and glimmers stir and discern all visibility
The waters reflected the chaos that plagued my reckoning
As I sat tossing stones watching the ripples fade and form
My small attempts to redirect the current seemed insurmountable
The rush and persistence of endless resistance surpassed my will
Swallowing my feet in mud and dismay
Beside the stream I'd forever stay
Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 9:15 PM UTC
Don't categorize yourself with someone else, don't lump yourself into a specific type. One similarity does not a commonality make. A million and one people may all have done what you've done or felt what you've felt but that does not breed you together into one common group or make their goals yours or your goals something they have any possibility of reaching. It may sound cliche but you are the only you, no one else could be you or truly understand everything you've ever felt to the core of your being since you've become you. And this you, the one you stare at every day in the mirror, is not the you you've always been and is certainly not the you you'll always be. You are continually changing and becoming more than you've ever been before. If you keep trying and doing and working towards something, anything that's better than what you are right now then you've already surpassed every category, type or group that you lumped yourself into. You are not a category. You are not what anyone else thinks you are. You are what you try to become, what you hope to become, what you've always dreamed you'd become.
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 12:38 PM UTC