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Mikaila Nov 2018
I think it’s hardwired into us
To wonder what our purpose is,
To search for meaning and for comfort,
To feel
Lost.
I’ve wandered a lot in my life.
More than my share, perhaps,
For the years I’ve spent on earth.
This feeling
Takes hold of me
And pulls me after it.
Like a string around my heart
Thin but insistent
It has led me
So many places.
I’ve boarded planes
With little plan
And crossed oceans following it.
I’ve emerged from sleep
Onto shadowy country lanes
Chasing the silver the moon left on the ground.
I’ve walked out in rain
On dull, slick cobblestones and watched
Unafraid
The underworld of London
Surge topside
In the dead of night
And swirl around me like the mist that clung to my heels.
I have walked and walked
Through fields shrouded in early morning dew
Met the eyes of animals in the dark
And held them in a moment of
Understanding:
We both of us are lost
Both hunted
Both free, but uncertain.
I have followed this feeling wherever it has led me
And it has always led me somewhere I could love
But never somewhere I could rest
Until now.
My heart pulled me to you
And I thought I would be out at night again
Scouring the streets
Searching for meaning,
Searching for
Sustenance.
I was ready to live that again,
Ready to embrace that odd agony of feeling,
The secrecy, the doubt,
Ready to leave a trail of blood behind me
As I staggered through the night and into dawn.
But you
Surprised me.
You saw me.
You
Loved me.
These nights, I find peace in my heart
And for once I do not wander.
I savor the warmth of my own skin
Content that soon your hands will bless it,
Will travel it like a map of the world,
Will bring
Light.

I don’t know what my purpose is
But I can guess.
When I look at you
I suspect my purpose is to be right here,
To love and love until I run dry
And simply fall to dust.
And maybe that scares you
But it doesn’t
Scare me:
Sitting here,
Curled up with tea
Writing poetry for you
Dreaming of your smile
I think of all the other callings I could have had-
A call to arms
A call for blood
A call to action or revenge or martyrdom.
I could have been called
To serve
To teach
To sacrifice,
To survive or to
Destroy-
And I look at this love,
This love that I would gladly let
Fade me
Like a step worn down by the shoes of someone familiar and welcome
Like a favorite shirt gone pale with washes
Like an old newspaper clipping in a frame in sunlight
Cherished but worn
Crumbling with time
Known as the back of your hand
Known as your fragile heartbeat,

And I think
To love is not such a bad purpose
After all.
Rita Feb 2012
Introduce me to the shadows
I'm not afraid of the dark


Teach me to love the animal
not to run from it's bark


walk with me in the rain
without sheltering me more


let me fly upon on your wings
lead me to freedom, don't close the door


hold my hand
don't chain my soul


I have a spirit
don't touch it's controls


love me for who I am
not for who I may become


show me tomorrow
allow me to feel the sun


don't try to save me
or spare me pain


teach me I'm strong enough
to survive the stormy rain


I wasn't searching for a hero
to make my life complete


or someone to shelter me
when life has me beat


I was looking for love
don't bury it in your need


you need to feel superior
walk beside.. dont lead


For with your support
I can withstand the pain


and yet if you shelter me
I'll never learn to enjoy the rain
Md Zillur Rahman Jun 2018
Bound to expectations
My wings do not flap,
My heart does not sing,
My eyes do not see,
My mind does not wonder.

Bound to responsibility
My soul resents me,
My existence compels me-
To wither away in the cold breeze
Of the ever lasting winter,
In everlasting hunger
To survive.

It's not that I have forgotten to live,
Forgotten to smile,
Forgotten to rejoice the miracles of life,
But I am in a never ending debt, to life.
And all the sorrows
All the limits
All the abandonment of the self
I must endure
Only To survive.
Write a happy story,
They said.
They did not know
Pencils grow heavier
As they scratch lies across a page.

Pretty girl,
Handsome boy.
Sparks that flew
Hearts that grew
Lips that met.

Write a happy story,
They said.
They did not know
That life gets in the way
Of fledging happiness.

Pretty girl,
Handsome boy.
Words that fell
Down the nape of her neck
And into her chest.
Fingers that caressed
The line of his jaw
And the ridge of her cheek.
Whispers that rose
Yielding into the ice of the moon
And crept into the lining of their souls.

Write a happy story,
They said.
They did not know
Happiness carries the inevitability
Of pain underneath its wings.


Pretty girl,
Handsome boy.
One basket of memories never made
And of growing disappointments.
One slowly cooling heart.
Two stale throats musty and seldom used.

Write a happy story,
They said.
They did not know
That no matter how much heart’s-blood
You pour into their soul,
Sooner or later, destiny comes to play.
Even the greatest love story,
eventually finds an end.  

Pretty girl,
Handsome boy.
Fairy-tales incarnate.
But fairy-tales cannot survive in this world.
The magic mirrors cracked.
The poisoned apples fail.
The dragons triumph.
The animals voiceless.
The princes leave.
The princesses stray.

Write a happy story,
They said.
I wrote them a fairy tale,
But happiness had already flown away,
And my pencil had been
Too dull to capture it again.
Jo Swan Nov 2018
In my dreams,
I see a Prince,
His eyes gently glint.
Has his Holiness come?
I cry to him not all is well.
In my loneliness,
passion for life has languish.
Spirit tainted by sinful spell,
I’ve drank the cup of anguish?
Will the heart heal?
His calm silhouette-
caress me with warm zeal.
Heaven and Earth embrace as one.
In pain, I can survive.
Like the radiance of the Sun,
I feel my spirit revive.

With the wind,
the Prince disappears
like pollinated petals.
I implore him to reappear.
I’m a vulnerable child;
afraid to be back in the wild.
His voice whispers
that it is time to awake.
He will not forsake me.
One day when I’ve blossom,
I’m destine to meet him again.
With his holy army,
slanderous shadows will flee.
With the Prince of Peace,
Life’s lamenting will one day cease!

(c) Jo Swan
Mark Lecuona Aug 2016
To contend with me now
Is to confront yourself
There is no emotion that I fear
Nothing can change what I am
A human being
I will be sad
I will be in despair
And I know that I will not fall apart
The moments you avoid
Are the ones that make me the strongest
I can lose your love
Know you are with someone else
And my heart will be a forest consumed by fire
But I am also the green grass that returns
I know that now
And it is because I love you like that
That I can lose you and still survive
Because though you are beauty
I am the song written for you
I am the overwhelming love you crave
And I am stronger than you will ever know
You cannot destroy me
Peppy Miller Nov 2013
My face must've grew today
As my mask did not want to fit.
'So nice' they say she is
But they don't really know ****.
They tell you you're one way
But you feel another
Constantly lying
For the benefit of others.
The biggest of smiles
Everyone using teeth for their mirror
What do I want?
It's always unclear.
Those wars we fought,
No one came out alive
But my card read medic
Somehow I chose to survive.
Everyone had half a mouth.
I had  only half of one too
It's hard to pick sides when blinded like that
Or hard when both sides want you.
They only needed a moment though
Her niceness was overstayed.
The others all stared with swords in their sides
Feeling as though they had been betrayed.
How can you be such a pinball?
Such a spineless, cowardice tool?
What makes you think you're  alliances to all?
What the hell are you trying to prove?
I was just wearing that mask I had once.
It was more like a helmet I guess.
I don't have a civil duty to any
I'm just trying to stay abreast.
But no one can trust a man who has no enemies.
For he stands for nothing at all.
I was dead all along in the trenches,
For the mask/helmet I had was too small.
Everyone will tell you your strengths
When it's something which they desire.
It's disgusting at best but I never act up
I know you can't fight fire with fire.
So let all the others wave the white flag
See if they can lay down their weapons.
I'm at war with myself but you all are too
One day again, we'll be friends.
Poet kiri Jul 2015
I quote a quote
That puts price on freedom,
Ever wondered
If words had a price
Would nonsense be affordable,
Or either be a
World of critics?


The world changes
Day by day to it we owe a debt
In life we have a price tag
All at the stack to numerous
Qualities.



The window of opportunity no Longer exist,
Opportunities lack in the mist
That many only dare to explore,
To survive we live
To read between the line.


There's a catch to life
In this second hand world
Were we live to die by the trend,
Yet nothing works to perfections.


That a ***** little secret
Is much sweeter
Than the TRUE value of words.


We're eating from a tipped table
To succeed an accomplishment
Is worth nothing,
Unless they are accomplishments
Whereas we barely get anything
Of our sweet fruits of success
Devoured by the greedy,
Yet they struggle to get in touch with reality.


In this world
Much can get you by
A quote of inspiration,
A valid dream,
Or the billions of wars  
We fight in a day to
Come out victories either  
Defeated.


It’s a cruel world but,
Yet we have to remember


I quote a quote
“Nobody cares what you have to say
Unless it important"
Yet nobody cares what you do
Unless you’re making a change
In their lives and the world.


BY; POET KIRI
STATUS RATED ®.

©Hansmind, 2015
Special thanks all those 233 viewer of "NO LONGER ABIDE Y THE BELL" appreciate it.
kindly enjoy this poem that was my first spoken word piece in to a delegate of CAFOD during their meeting. :)
Thank you again.
Michael Falls Jun 2014
When all that remains is ash,
burning hot,
melting skin that it falls on,
would you try to rebuild?

Have you ever felt
like the world was burning,
and there was no point in returning,
standing on the edge,
have you ever felt like falling?

What would you do if your life went up in flames?
Would you rise like a phoenix through the ashes?
Or would you struggle to rebuild?
Would you burn with everything else?

Have you ever felt like standing on the edge and falling?
Look down and think to yourself,
it's not that far,
I could survive,
if I could get the courage to try.

When all that remains of your life is ashes, what do you do?
Do you get the courage to fall off the edge?
Do you try to rebuild?
Do you continue like nothing ever happened?

I stand on the edge,
and wind blows at my back,
carrying the ashes of my life,
and the wind is too strong,
for once I give in,
and through the ashes I see,
a friend running to get me.

They reach me too late,
I've already fallen down,
I gave in, gave up,
I am not the person who rises up.

As I lay there on the ground,
I have answered my questions,
I am the type of person who falls off the edge.
The ashes rained down on me,
but I am long gone,
they can't bother me anymore,
I have found the courage to fall.
Right yet another poem about suicide but I can't seem to get off this topic. This is way longer than I meant it to be, it just got away from me.
Elioinai Nov 2014
A killing day came,
and I led the ruby towards the gallows
but the knife pierced both I and the stone
no longer looking to better myself
I tried to survive
crying out at the blood spilling
from the word I had carved into the marks
from my fangs
Die
I had almost succeeded
in killing the poisoned chunk
of hollow mesmirism
but I had pulled out veins as well
and I died a little inside
I bled for you,
I gave into you,
I wanted to make you happy.
I have an evil soul
I can never be made whole.
No room for a savior.
No way for anyone to save me
Paint me a picture
Make the world look so much better.
There is so much that is not okay.
So much pain
Every mistaken day.
Make me feel
Something real
Little child, such kind eyes
Don’t listen to these lies
They try to take you.
They try to break you
Don’t listen.
I am broken.
I feel nothing inside.
Lie to me
Tell me everything is okay
Lie to me
Open my eyes to a perfect world.
Make it like
The pain was never there.
Abusive scars just disappear.
Make me feel human
Tell me something I want to hear
Cause right now I can’t survive.
Pretend to love me
Pretend to know me
Give me a friend
Give me a lover.
Give me one more reason to live.
The gun
Is awful close
I can taste
The copper against my tongue.
I can’t breathe
Are you listening?
If I say
‘’I love you”,
Would you stay?
I know I am ugly, I am garbage
Which is why I need just one friend.
Tell me everything is okay.
Make me feel again.
Please revive my soul.
I don’t care
If what you say is true
I just need to hear it.
Been so alone
I can hear the world mocking me.
Night after night
Day after day
Depression holds me at ransom
Taking all the joy I ever knew.
Romanticize me,
My life depends on it,
*My life depends on it
Emma Johnson Apr 2010
So you know I wasn’t raised in the hood,
But in a beautiful place in Surrey enclosed by woods,
Had quite a nice childhood,
Until the age of ten, everything was all good.

It all changed when my Dad went away,
Couldn’t cope with my Mums Bipolar state,
When he left I have a photo memory of that day,
‘Promise you won’t get divorced, I want you to stay’.

Then that kid had to grow up quick,
When mum had an episode, breakdown psychotic.
Held the family together through all this ****.
Then lost the plot myself couldn’t handle it.

So I left home very young, let down by pen pushers.
Dumped in and out of care, social workers?
Isn’t it a wonder how I became an alcoholic toker,
Stress of my life turned me into a chain-smoking joker.

A year I slept in my bus stop,
Stealing food to survive from various shops,
Helped to sleep with prayers and alchopops,
Checked on by ‘Rosy cheeks’ the local cop.
© Emma Johnson 2009
Vennie Kocsis Dec 2013
Click the link if you'd like to listen to me speak this poem.

https://soundcloud.com/venniekocsis/the-separating

I have stared at pictures
of my face with
closed eyes

I have imagined
this is what I would
look like in a coffin

so I will be burned
turned to ash
sprinkled into the
soft earth of this Mother

so they can remember
the sound of my laughter
when I visited the trees

Some say "oh, that is so morbid!
how could you think like that?"

I reply, "how can I not,
when I know I'll be back?"

I am but just a blink
on this thing we call a life
when I return to stardust
I'll sleep a thousand nights.

But for now
I trudge the wreckage
of a complicated pain
to see if I can
build the strength
to return this way again.

How does one hold on to hope,
dying in the snow,
huddled 'round a barrel fire
as the sarin seeps the ground?

I say I am a washer,
some ask me what I mean
I have invisible knapsacks
strapped behind my knees

I have wondered why
I'd choose this kind of life
to feel the saddest parts
of a human's broken heart

Sometimes I stare at photos
I don't recognize myself
not the upturned nose
or the slight overbite of my jaw
I stare at foreign eyes
who was she before
she was forced to survive

I remember planets
where I sat beside the blues
places just like this one
without the sorrow

It has always felt abnormal
to be inside this skin
like my soul has always
fought a war
with being in human form

I have gazed at my face
in colorful gradients
long to kiss my lips
and feel their softness
to know just once
what it is like
to stand on the outside
of a bullet riddled body

I would hold my cheeks,
look at myself so sweetly
in all the ways I imagined
would happen if I was loved
unconditionally, fully,
wholly, without expectation

I have stared at the darkness
like it's a Hearst
where my dead flesh would rest first,
carried through dimensions
back to the before
if I could just have the courage
to step through that door

It doesn't feel familiar
being in this place
with the indifference,
the passivity and
the down turned faces

It's not to say I
don't have moments where I'm happy
but how can I skip through rainbows
when there is so much weeping?

I feel each time they ache
like it's my very own heart
like they're a piece of my existence
their shadowing lingering
in my footsteps and
I cannot catch a breath
for the intensity of
their desperate loneliness

I have stared at my hands
folded across my chest
the way my fingers would interlace
before the skin decays and breaks

the way humans display
other humans
to feel better inside
about the way
their loved one died;
pomp and circumstance
taking precedence
in lifelessness

I have images stamped in my head
my eyes black and absent
the way they'll be in the end

take it back
put it in concrete
make a chisel with a code
so deep
they'll have to go to
great feats to figure it out
because there are two choices
love and doubt

and in the end
neither will matter
it'll just be you and the stars
and the echo of grief
evaporating into the mist

and you will see your face
on white paper
with words about
a second of an inch thick
before you become separated
into a remember when

let the shards fly
sink into my skin cause
I'll be back this way again
but until then

I wonder what will be
written on my epitaph
she felt too much
she let the sadness gush
she whispered in the silence

No, No
save the stone
instead, make me flame
in my last moments let me shine
and be light
then take me to the sea
where the waves will bury me

and I'll return home
to tell them of a dying planet
and the few eyes
who have not yet lost hope

v.k poetry
copyright @ dbv publishing 2013
Shayda H Jun 2014
And I'll tell you this now, that I'm just trying to live and survive.
I don't want to die anymore, I just want to love myself for once.
I want to live, Live Through This.
No matter what I do to help people in the world, it seems as if it is never enough.
And all I do is keep giving, and giving.
But, am I living?
No!
I keep draining myself.
I can't help people when they don't help themselves.
That is all I ever seem to do, it is like I am glued to it.
I don't want to hurt myself anymore because there's no point in it.
I don't want to hit and beat myself up after one simple thing goes wrong.
I can't understand why people let their demonds destroy them.
If I did that then there would be no more me!
I want to be free.
I just want to love myself, survive and live, Live Through This!
(S.K.H.)
Artistry Dec 2014
Noone to judge and the freedom to be who you want, self expression with lack of criticism. Not a matter of wrong and right, it's whatever I want to do. No presence of concern or opinions of others. Not approval of others or undesirable judgements. Peace of mind because oh do spirits soar, but not when I'm alone. Such a confusion we live with so many distractions, a break from it sometimes feels like it all. Who better to understand ones self than one self. Seeking compatibility to survive amongst each other, laws of nature would suggest we are better alone, people's lack of loyalty and commitment, such selfish beings amongst selfless acts when in our own best interest. It's physiological warfare between good and evil according to the masses, however alone I am my greatest investor amongst the world of egoism.
Tommy Johnson Dec 2013
This place was new to her
Tendrils of envy
That had over ran her heart
Like spilled ink

The witch gobbles six Lorazepam
Just to survive the after noon
And trips from her botched stride of self righteousness

Her inaccuracy, in her mind is fact

Her sense of superiority over shadows any type of kindness that trickles out every now and then

Her flippant demeanor
Is known and is spoken of in fork tongued folklore

Her spells of insanity and depravity

Leaving all the passes in a stated of relentless unease

She trots the ash covered cobble ****** alleyways of the sullen slums
And the scornful ****** watch from rusted fire escapes
Blades in hand, back-pocket crucifix

They swoop down and surround her

She who caused the drought, the death of all live stock and infants’ demise

She falls to the ground

“May the truths of the universe diminish your incantations!”

She screams

They cover their ears and douse her with holy water

Her skin peels revealing her grotesque scaly red skin
Her yellow eyes gleam as its pupils dilate

“And with these blades of sanctuary we obliterate your being”

A typhoon of stabs follows
And a sacred jar is laid out
To capture her spirit
So it may never return
Jessica Lange Dec 2015
Unhinge your jaw and shut your eyes
because the best things in life are simply felt,
and you’ll feel it everywhere if you’re doing it right.
A spark of electricity will ignite where your tongues dance
and it will sizzle through your teeth and down your throat,
lighting fires where you didn’t think could burn.
Curl your toes and knot your fingers into her hair like it is your lifeline.
Weld yourselves together, crawl into each other.
Run your tongue along hers until everything tastes like ‘we’.
Don’t forget to breathe; share the air until it’s gone
and all you have left to survive on is each other’s souls.
And whatever you do, don’t stop kissing her.
If you do, your lips will lose all meaning
because their only purpose now is to taste hers.
Your eyes will open and the world will seem a little grayer
As your soul untangles itself from hers.
Your tongue will become a defibrillator,
trying to revive the moment,
trying to recreate the electricity only you two can make.
Gabriel Herrera Sep 2020
I wonder how my ancestors feel
Knowing their escape from home
Would lead
To children ***** in cages

Traced
Nameless
Unheard of conditions
Like their rabid dogs

But really puppies still needing their mothers milk

Who made those cages you call sanctuary
Who made those tinfoil sheets you call warmth
Who made those regulations?
Ripping the child from their parents grip
I've seen the ******* pictures
Those kids were strangling their mothers and fathers in order to not let go

There's no need for translation
This is universal
These children are treated like felons
With no warrant
No warning

Is this justice?
Does my so called president get off to this?

Is he not satisfied enough with his spray tan?

He takes it out on us?

I wake up in my bed
Every day I cant fathom
The nightmare those children wake up to
Alone with others like that look just like them.
Looking in the reflection their tears molded onto the shivering pavement

I cant even imagine

The thoughts that may race through their young and impressionable minds

Do they think they deserve it?
Do they think this is their fault?

If and when they do finally escape

How scarred will they be?

They already have a criminal record for being born

How will they survive in a society that imprisoned them before given an education

Before given a ******* a chance.
BB Nothing Oct 2011
If life were a battle
then no one'd have cattle cause
tending is hard to do.
Rather than that,
they'd sit there and chat
'bout things that they already knew.
Helping is rare
cause no one will share
what they know that makes life so blue.
So will I survive?
I guess I'll just dive
cause if I don't I'll never be true.
Simon Clark Aug 2012
Gentle blossom fallen,
Weighed down by the strength of morning dew,
Gentle blossom decaying,
Turning into the earth.

Pink shadows hidden,
Hiding below the rainfall,
Disguising the light that may uplift,
Just unknown eternity trapped in time - ruled by clocks.

Freedom,
Freedom to believe or not,
To choose to see with rose tinted vision,
To decide to conquer,
To decide to win and to fly,
A choice you can take but you break the laws of nature,
Never wave goodbye to an option,
The waves only crush when ordered to,
The sun only shines if it feels right,
Love to love, choose to choose,
Protect the choice to survive,
Or like the blossom you will fall,
You will die,
You will become the earth,
Un-praised dust.
Written in 2005
Wade Lancaster Sep 2015
The mistrial winds come
Blowing fiercely from every direction
As storms brewing
Reaching our ships
Filling the sails of division
Attempts to chart the course
In different directions
I tie my ship to yours
Lower my mast and drift
Along with you
For it is never
One plus one equals two
True love is two equals one
Throw up the rope
I shall tie it tight
Around me
Feel free and drift along with me
The winds are but a window
Taking place together
We shall always
Survive all storms
As the story unfolds
Looking into the mirror
We see our ships are but one
Breathing me in
I am the sails of you
As you are mine
The math of true love; It is not one plus one equals two, rather two are the hearts of one.
Ken Pepiton Aug 2021
Banners over us,
reminders of the first signed sigil waved
to mean something
to watching eyes,
fleets follow the highest flown flag,
designated leader, the kings sigil says so, so
as pledged, we go where the flag leads, then

just yesterday, I learned
of this ritual,
and I recalled the honor
of learning
to fold this flag.
This symbol,
for which it is noble
to die,
some do even dare
to teach this ritual to a select few,
fatherless, fearless, fungible future
first team something common sensitive.
exchange aitia cause for excuse
-- this world is folded implicitly, syllable
after
thump whump sigh,
a cough, to clear a lacquer of phlegm,
syllable, forming peace in time,
sit back, truth or dare,
do you believe in folded world symbols?

Have you a sacred flag? Final symbol showing
fungible duty done, paid in full.
Honor where honor is earned as endurance, that's all.

Endure to the end, making peace with childish
yous you meet at life's sharp end.

There was a committee who invented this ritual,
proud were those who fit the entire myth
true rest, freedom of thought, word, and deed,
in return,
fair and square, peace and safety and more meat
and milk than men should ever eat, but
what the hell, we won, we stole all their cows,…

pledged, initiated, used to abuse the worth of wrong
ideas… core right, correct, recht at once, stalility

ifity, wobbledy goop… did you learn this on your own?

"The first fold of our Flag is a symbol of life.

The second fold is a symbol
of our belief in eternal life.
{so the first must mean mortal life eh}

The third fold is made
in honor and remembrance
of the veterans departing our ranks who gave a portion
of their lives for the defense
of our country
to attain peace throughout the world.
{sounds fishy, attain peace, hmmm,
by being ready to give your own pound of flesh,
get some skin in the game.
Make up a mind that matches the imitation. }

The fourth fold represents our weaker nature;
{ I am not making this up}
for as American citizens trusting, GOD-
it is to Him {whom? wombed or un} we turn in times
of peace as
well as in time
of war
for His divine guidance.
{marching as to war…skip step stutter, cross this bridge}

-- meaning 4:
: a structural unit of a definable syntactic, semantic, or phonological category that consists of one or more linguistic elements (such as words, morphemes, or features) and that can occur as a component of a larger construction

From <https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/constituent>

Enfold your flapping mind, in my world, school starts
in one week, and Grandma is in Idaho, with old friends.
The two tweens are radiating readiness, prepping
to not appear to be as weird as Grandpa,
but, still, knowing, least said,
soonest mended, wait to know what's next, fold
in silence… Our sample flag was earned on Iwo Jima,
where Don Wourms watched his basic buddy die.

"I did nothing right, I survived", me, too, echoing

The fifth fold is a tribute to our country,
for in the words of Stephen Decatur,
"Our Country, in dealing
with other countries
may she always be right;
but it is still our country, right or wrong."
{Yep, no lie, by sixth grade, 12th year on Earth,
there is the lie, regarding trust, duty, & honor.
Plato said Socrates said,
Guardians must be bred and nurtured, fed
the duty and honor, brother closer than friend,
teammate, rowers on the same bench,

boom}

The sixth fold is for where our hearts lie.
It is with our heart that we pledge allegiance
to the Flag of the United States of America,
and to the Republic
for which it stands, one Nation
under God, indivisible,
with liberty and justice
for all.
-- 13 fold, 48 ply

There are series of numbers that mean nothing,
and sums that can find a link, a mental
tic take a thoughtmmmm
thirteen habits has the seedmmmmmhmm
thirteen folds in the star spangled banner.
thirteen stripes folded within blue heavensmmmhmmm
- unlucky number thirteen
- contentintensity semantic tic BAT

The seventh fold is a tribute {something owed whom?}
to our Armed Forces,
{The entire complex economic entity}
for it is through the Armed Forces that we
protect our country and our
flag
against all her enemies,
whether they are found within or
without the boundaries of our Republic.

{ be me, that boy, the one with the paper route.
selected to be the flag folder for fridays, 1960-
leading the class into a weekend of fun
being good citizens, stopping, looking, listening
marching for dimes and publisher's clearing house}

The eighth fold is a tribute {that's the word, you owe}
to the one who entered
into the valley of the shadow of death,
that we might see the light of
day, and

to honor mother, for whom it flies
on Mother's Day.

{fact check all you wish, this is the ritual,
it ain't a sacred secret, it's spiritual as hallowe'en}

The ninth fold is a tribute
to womanhood;
for it has been
through their faith, their love, loyalty
and devotion
that the
character
of the men and women
who have made this country great
has been molded.

{Dis try t' trump thet, patriophathemphatical, know 't all}

The tenth fold is a tribute {eh, patriot, pay the price}
to the father, for he too,
has given his sons and daughters
for the defense
of our country since
they were first born. {The children were sold}

{{}
- HONEST, chile, we sold you for goodness sakes
- you had to survive the learning
- to hold the knots of knowns left idle,
- as any oath unaccounted for,
- I swear, we swear some curses unawares,
- and those echo back as strangersmmm
- white noise sssorting questions
spark
The program that made the mind tools we use,
voltron, chess, appletalk space wars, in 1986,

very strange, the reappearing highschool connection,
very American looking, gamer aimed plots

dot to dot
seeing secret patterns, imagining inside the folded
weltanshaung squirrelled world, put away,
to be unfurled one fine daymmmm

blue skies, my friend. Finish the folds - 1960}


The eleventh fold, in the eyes
of a Hebrew citizen represents the lower portion
of the seal
of King David and King Solomon,
and glorifies
in their eyes,
the God
of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

The twelfth fold,
in the eyes
of a Christian citizen, represents an emblem
of eternity and glorifies,
in their eyes,
God the Father, the Son and Holy Spirit.
{I do feel like this bit of truth is
too strange to have known, are there rewards for this?
Is it a preboneman rite of passage,
done to become the meaning knower,
holder of the knack the leader of the fold team holds,
the knowledge as to why,
we do things right, or not at all.}

The thirteenth fold:
When the Flag is completely folded,
the stars are uppermost
reminding us
of our Nation's motto,
"In God We Trust."  {since 1956}
After the Flag is completely folded and tucked in,
it takes on the appearance of a cocked hat,
ever {riiight}
reminding us of the soldiers
who served
under
General George Washington,
and the Sailors and Marines
who served
under
Captain John Paul Jones,
who were followed
by their comrades and shipmates
in the Armed Forces
of the United States, preserving
for us the rights, privileges, and freedoms
we enjoy today.
{freedom of the press does belong to the one
who uses the common media - so far,
soo so good… this era in my sovereign real estate}

-- admin reviewed this, there are mental peace niks
planting confusion bombs on free way emergency
exits…
bass beats whump whump, feel it in y'teeth…

the vision in context fades… a final seal set
the teacher tells the disciple to carry the message
inside… know know
why you dare die for the story that formed your
child's mind. Look at your own kid, what you did.

BTDT. BTW, fold it up and put it away.

"The next time you see a Flag ceremony
honoring someone that has served our country,
either in the Armed
Forces or
in our civilian services such as
the Police Force or Fire Department,
keep in mind all the important
reasons behind each and every movement.
They have paid the ultimate sacrifice
for all of us by honoring our
Flag and our Country.

--- so did I blaspheme? I swear I had only
a boy's philosophy…

ping to 2021, hear my grand daughter prepping
for school in Descanso, listening to an audio book,
with the hero character a teen, mortal Apollo,

and the evil representative…
I listen, that immortal voice, Caligula's last mind
left in songs, sung as true, no lie

No lie,
passes untold, when in time, the implicit unfolds

and the edge dwellers, see jesus represented
in the widow's mites exchanged for motes
clanged
and sparked to say,

I know, who you think I am, my ad.
Click bait, fair fungible, win by a little tiny bit,
GO.

That is the game, three moves for each atom
in all we imagine our augmented eyes have seen.

AI do use the common store of knowns,
growing exponent opponent potentially ever
after
this…

for a while, why imagine hell was ever real?
as adjustments occur
to your way of seeing time as a whole truth
u u u ambig u u u is us ambigu is ous oy vwey
hayah hayah
Kelly C S Mar 2012
My dearest love,
I was taken too young, separated from you by some sadistic hand. I wish I could write to tell you that I am in peace, that I am happily floating above you. I cannot. I was admitted into these ethereal gates, but no fruit of this hand nor any amount of time can calm me down. I reside in a luxury spa of torture.
We may have anything our souls desire, but mine is contradictory and rips the fabric of reason.
You see, I only wish for you. I will never ask to end you life, but I cannot live without you. Although, when you think about it, I'm not living in the first place, not anymore.  Live is not the correct word. Survive. Thrive. Grow. The English language has failed me for this synonym.
I wish for you to live forever. To enjoy the sweet earth and to gain all that is offered to you.
I will wait in agony for you, for that is all I can do. I would rather this feeling than be with you in guilt.
Sincerely, Truly, Deeply,
Your tragic love.
preservationman Sep 2016
Senior woman that continue to fly
They are still Flight Attendants and that is no lie
The Golden Girls woman have been flying since they were young
Yet they are still among
Their knowledge goes beyond any American, Delta and United procedure
The Golden Girls have senior vitality
But their wisdom and understanding became their theory of reality
So up and away
We are flying on this day
No Geritol on this flight
You shall sleep throughout the night
Welcome aboard, and we’re the senior’s who fly the friendly skies
We are your Golden Girls who are wise
We travel anywhere there is a flight
We will help you relax and don’t feel fright
There might be some turbulence, but don’t be uptight
We are the Golden Girls who are professionals and we are polite
We don’t tolerate any foolishness and that includes a fight
So buckle up
You are aboard any Flight number given
Listen to our stories that were never ever told
Be amazed with a behold
One time in our flying career, we encountered severe turbulence while a Tornado was in our flying space
The plane suddenly took a nosedive, and we thought we wouldn’t survive
We just knew we were heading for the Earth ground
However, the plane went back up safe and sound
We arrived at our destination bound
So you see, we are not called Golden Girls Flight Attendants for nothing
What we have achieved in years in flight is something more than a trail
Plight.
bouhaouel zeineb Jan 2015
Vow
I made a vow to myself
a vow that I shall never break
no matter what happens
I'll follow my dreams
till my last breath
even if I have to walk on a flaming path
and battle the devil inside me
I'll survive their mockery and their prejudice
they will laugh at me, try to stop me and look at me with disgust
but I'll keep standing proudly
they will be jealous,envious and hateful
but their words won't harm me
they will call me names freak insane ***** and even "kefra" ( non believer)
but that won't take my dignity
won't take my pride
they will all stand against me
my family "my friends" and the society
they will try to scare me with their stupid superstitions
but I won't turn back
I'm strong enough to bear the harm and the pain
I won't break my vow
no matter what happens
Boy howdy, zipity dipity bipity do, crashawnk, codunkles,blimdicals, felu.
Words that mean nothing with clues white and black....black? Well that is you staring back, you think you have your foot in the door but it's only a crack, the lights are off , but you don't look back?
Two chairs sitting on a hill , people laughing , people playing, climb crystal stairs to the sill. See through the windows out or in? Perception of deception for those sills face in. It's your eyes that stare back that bare back and dare back. I digress , regress, deflect and subject. Myself is just playin with this yarn to no regret. So I'll stare back, I'll enter the void. I'll dare back and care back and not be annoyed.
Reaching down to pull others up, I was offered a drink and I spilled the cup. Souls are sojourning how can they be ill? Don't worry draw closer it's only a chill. Take your fill, there is more in the till.....If only we were here when the time stood still.
White light reflects and dazzles the eye? Tear drop shaped prisms  make colors alive. You and I know that this is no lie, how can it be if we are to survive?
Sit in your chair and I'll sit in mine we will do time together and pass it with......looking back at each other or back and forth? They face each other, reflect each other, see into each other. Are not each other. Are looking for one another. Are combined into one another. Just went past one another.
Did your eyes get their fill or would you see more, did you see the end of life or just another shore? Were the waves beating and tearing for more? Clawing at what belongs on the floor? Little pebbles or be they keys , white and black strung with.....seaweed? How did this instrument get to this shelf? Coral and ships and notes float about? Bubbles like notes lilting about? Who makes music in these dark depths? How stricken be the keys and the pedals with....ease?
Lift it up, lift up, lift it up....no yarn no yet....lift it up! It's flying on nothing but the thickest of thin....air compressed and blown up again? Should notes not matter when your up this high? Your making music and........ I just need to sigh...
But back to the sills and the people and hills and to the eyes of yours and mine. This chair and that, this stare and that. Up crystal stairs and to the door. It slowly revolves till we are dizzy once more.
Ok now yarn, what spin you for?
RN Nov 2018
You're not Cecilia but you're breaking my heart
Lady, you're hitting my heart badly like a dart
You're my world but now it's falling apart
This is the end, I don't know where to start

All my dreams for us are gone
All our memories, Is it just for fun?
Baby, come back, this is not our plan
Big day tomorrow, we're not done

I'm half dead and half alive
I don't know if I'm going to survive
All I want is you, forever, by my side
But you leave a note,

You said you don't want to be my bride. .
Rhymes in my Mind
vermin Nov 2011
listen and look,
honey,
dear,
sweetie,
baby,
won't you shut the hell up,
you're driving me crazy.
I'd survive if you'd save me
but

love hasn't saved anyone I've ever met.
maybe someone who wants to know what to expect
like
home before dark and promises never kept,
and secrets in the park with naked words

frozen
on the lips of an adulterous misstep.

this is useless to those who crave the subtle bliss,
who enumerate ridges of skin dedicated with a kiss
and
catalog nerve endings that shiver and resist . and . just . (quiver to exist)
so promises never need be made,
so we can fall apart and it won't matter, none of this

we never needed a place in a poem or a dictionary,
just a dial tone or a few letters to arrange
to call home and portray the strange
and… try… to find a word…
that rhymes with… dictionary

never trying to deny
our eyes cannot lie,
they will fade from glory.
like the dead,
like you and I

like we needed to fake these scrawling notes
that claw for understanding of mistakes we once wrote,
inky sketches that wax polemical over a misquote
and crying starry eyes over favorite chemicals,
the elements we conjure with, so verbose and so broke,
over coffee and cigarettes and mostly ***** jokes
There comes a time, in every man's life
when he faces the true test of being alive
when from deep within, he must draw out
what for thousands of years has helped him survive

The will to fight, the will to push forward
no matter the odds, no heed to his fears
lift up the sword, and so push onward
he must pay the price, and shed no tears
Not give in to despair, nor grow feet of lead
at the altar of fate, he mustn't lose his head

Charge on he must, blind though he be
for that what he loves, to be truly free

What price is enough, deemed worthy
of a breath of fresh air, solemn and free
Loved ones he may lose, tears be of no use
Fight on he must, or in vain is their loss

Charge on he must, blind though he be
for that what he loves, to be truly free

He must not look back, nor for a second hesitate
Protect the weak and the old, before it's too late
Care most for those, battered and bruised
Spare not those, who be brittle or obtuse

So be strong, my friend, hold nothing back
The time is nigh, for your final attack
Charge on you must, blind though you be
for that what you love, to be truly free
He is just a pronoun here. I intend the same, for men or women.
English is most inadequate when it comes to pronouns. :)
I want to go at the end of the rainbow and take the *** of golds,
but how can I get there if the rainbow is a full circle?

I want to ride a unicorn,
but all we have is a horse that cannot fly

I want to play at the clouds and feel the fresh air,
But they say that there is no oxygen that we could not even survive there

Wish I could fly,
but gravity always pull me off the ground

Been dreaming for my prince charming,
But this ain't a fairytale

Wish that I didn't knew all of these
And continue living on my own wonderland
"If ignorance is a bliss, why do we seek knowledge?" My history teacher asked us this question one time and I cant get it off of my mind.
cozy april Jul 2013
I find peace in storms,
The waves tell me otherwise,
Violent coils grazing me with the
last bit of sanity that's left,
But maybe I can survive without getting seasick,
While the sun comes out,
A clamorous sound wakes me from the dream,
Of hitting my place,
You can't touch me here,
You can't phase me here,
So I am not afraid of storms,
For, I am learning to sail my ship.

a.s.
It's so hard right now. Listening to footsteps, always thinking it's you.
Hearing the rain drizzle outside. It gives me less hope to survive. Your heart gave me the will to survive even though all i got was warning signs.
You used to tell me that all you were going to do was hurt me.
I shouldn't ever love you because all you would do is burn me.
It never became clear that what u were saying might actually be true.
I just thought it was a cliche saying, a weird twisted way of saying i love you.
NicoleRuth May 2015
She sits in the corner
Laptop splayed open
Searching
Searching for reasons to live
Maybe someone to love
A moment to smile for

Going through latest social trends
Sifting among piles of plastic smiles
And bright blue hash tags
Desperately looking for something
Someone genuine
A quote perhaps to believe in
A link on happiness maybe
To follow

All she receives though
Is disappointment
Immersed in a world obsessed
With shallowness
She realizes that all she needs
Everything she searches for
Is right here
Inside her soul it resides
The will, the strength, the love to survive.
Marissa Bauer Apr 2014
I honestly hate myself as a whole. everything I’m made up of. I hate the fact that I let people influence me so ******* much. how they say “oh you should listen to this because I like it.” or “you should do this thing because I enjoy this thing.” it drives me insane. I’m such a people pleaser. I rely on what other people think of me. maybe they would like me more if I was more like them. why does it seem like I am a mosaic solely made up of a bunch of different people? When I was a six year old little girl why couldn’t I have chosen to be my own self instead of following all the other little boys and girls around mimicking them, watching what they did, like a was some sort of robot programmed to learn their ways and fit in. Along with being a people pleaser I hold a lot of things in. I’m always making sure everyone else is okay. Putting others before myself has always been something I’ve done. I enjoy it though because it makes me feel accomplished. I just want to be… perfect. beyond perfect. The athletic, brilliant. stunning, skinny, flawless girl. From striving to be this person that I’m absolutely not, the person that nobody is, I have developed…things. While people notice my never ending battle to be faultless, they say,” why do you do this? no one is perfect you need to accept that.” I think in my mind,” really? you think that I don’t know that? you think that I want to be some control freak that needs everyone’s approval to survive?” All I honestly want is peace. Peace and to be myself. But how am I  supposed to be myself whenever I never was myself? How am I supposed to just drop everything I know? like I’m sorry that I’m so determined to make everyone around make happy whether I know them or not, whether they care or not. Does anyone understand me? Its truly a tragic misfortune. But I need my peace once and for all…
John F McCullagh Dec 2011
A word was born, some years ago,
Perhaps from Mister Marlowe’s pen.
Will Shakespeare stole it for his play.
The groundlings picked it up that way.
It gained currency by the hour-
For such is a poets’ power,
though Marlowe died in a tavern brawl
And all but scholars forget his name,
Words conquer worlds, thoughts persist
far longer than his Tamburlaine.
Genetic lines may hit dead ends
From war or pestilence or fate-
But words poetic or prosaic
Survive (though sometimes they’re Archaic.)
The Elizabethan age was,,like our own time, an age of foment and discovery. Such times are like Star Nebulas, nurseries for novation
White horses come to take me away
From the hollow song that repeats on and on
From the whispers that echo throughout the air
Spilling from mouths without a care
White horses come to take me away
From the many lies that I told myself to survive
From the hollow words that were promised to me
Crumble to pieces as they lose meaning
White horses come to take me away
From the sun that used to shine so bright for me
Now all that is left is a dreary light that fades to grey and hurts my eyes
White horses come to take me away
From the ones I loved the most
They hurt me more than they will ever know
And to them I am like a ghost
Cold and invisible
Although white horses come to take me away
The pain will still remain
In my heart and in mind for all time

— The End —