Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"taming" poems
Procrastination? What is that I've never heard of such a thing. But maybe because I'm to busy procrastinating to hear it, I am mike, I am not a poet, a leader, a storyteller, or an academic, I am a dreamer, a gamer, a man of many things, I would rather let life pass me by and sit in my game, Than to deal with the drama of reality. It is not that I don't like reality, It is that reality is too busy, With school and work Facebook and friends Learning and imagining Are they even one in the same I love my games because it allows my mind to run wild From building empires in Minecraft to taming creatures in Pokemon Games are a way I can re envision my world They allow kids to show their creative side something education removed long ago. So I stand before you asking, What is procrastination, I'd rather play my game and imagine. My life seems to pass by but in my one life span I have lived dozens of others.
0
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 7:53 AM UTC
Procrastination, Games, and Life
. I have seen her playing With light, edging her hair, In crescents so fair. I have watched her fingers Twirl and twine, beaming gold, Threshing precious hold. I have witnessed the taming Of the sun's rays, captured, Spinning in rapture. And I feel for the pale moon Who offers his frail, vestige light, While she sleeps at night.
0
Jul 24, 2012
Jul 24, 2012 at 12:59 PM UTC
Sun and Moon
When I look at you I want to touch Sends my imagination into a Spiritual crush I'm more than a dream my words make me real When I come inside..you will feel Passionate fingers touching every part From top to bottom..Now let me start Lay on your back my exploration goes deep Passion so hot you can feel the heat Legs up in the air if you dare Exposed to me without a care Tell me which way you want me to go? I can do more than fast and slow Lost in the motion of your thighs Mounting your body I look in your eyes Locked in a gaze penetrating your soul Start with a rhythm then out of control Ravishing writhing feeling every delight Mercilessly pounding while your bottom lip I bite Plundering your treasure in every single measure Reaping rewards of ultimate pleasure My Fairy tale Queen wicked with lust Eating your pie along with the crust Like royalty we lay satisfied from our feast Successfully taming our inner ****** beast My words of fantasy has you feeling this touch Poetic kisses for the lips of my Spiritual Crush..
0
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 7:44 PM UTC
Spiritual Crush
Hours Spent Straightening her Tangled blonde hair Thousands Spent Taming her Wild Golden locks Ages Spent In front of a Dishonest Mirror That lied And lied again About her Beauty Within Don’t you know Those curls are a treasure My curly friend? When I play with them at Night Again And Again Wrapped round my fingers Feeling your original curly sin Don’t you know Those curls are a pleasure My curly friend? As they tickle my Soul In their Serpentine Intent I want to mess your Proper blonde Into a wild naked disarray Curls and more Curls A field of windswept Growth I want to bury my nostrils Into the heady bare Perfume Of your silent Curly Oath And I Won’t Let You No, I Won’t Let You Defile those curls Again
0
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 6:12 AM UTC
A Curly Kind of Love
The only thing keeping him sane and taming his demons, the only thing soothing his pains and vaporizing his worries was the night sky... He knew, he was falling hard for night sky but could do nothing about it.. As Love has its very own strange ways to captivate a Heart !!
0
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 12:17 PM UTC
Night Sky !
Oppression Ownership Poem 1/26/2014 Why do we lead our hearts by the hand into our lovers' volatile elements quicksand mixed with fire Why do we blame it on desire say the heart wants what it wants, but mine doesn't want this at all Stop. Alleviating your hearts of guilt and shame because they're doing it perfectly. to fall in love and be willing to take set backs Stop. Let's take a step back. Give our hearts back their guilt and ownership over the oppression of a heart beat you can control but actually choose not to. Stop. Hear that? It is the sound of a heart beating, barely breathing but Stop. Now we've fixed it the problem we couldn't solve but don't absolve yourself of sin yet We've got another oppression needing to be handed over false ownership we play pretend. rather than play in a playground with each other. we blame another for our heart's oppression but right now in this room I am the only one holding a broom trying to tell you that you can't sweep it out out of your mind or cover it up with doubt. I'm not saying don't blame society for creating social constructs of love. I'm not saying that we don't live in a world that is filled with a sickness a sickness in some to say that like this we can't keep on living, because stop. We can and we have and we cannot and have not given up on each other, just on ourselves with every breath we use to utter that famous druther that our hearts are victims. needing to be fixed. that the world wants to see us suffer that we can't own our emotions they are far too mixed with envy and rage and the deepest sorrow anyone could never know. but I do know, that stop. I do know that stop that stop stop. I do know no I don't. I don't know but that's for you to figure out How to feel your heart's oppression but don't keep it under ownership instead let it out. squeeze it out through your soul before it gets to take its toll you have too much to do on this planet or even on mars, somewhere far up when you reach the stars because you shine brighter than bullets baby. when they get shot and hit something leaving a lasting impact. you pierce through the hull of a steel ship with that wicked bite of your lip when your silver tongue speaks golden beauties. to my wicker ears eager to be burned with the splendid delight of your brilliant vocalizations shouting, screaming, taming, keeping an eye opening message. that you do not own your heart's oppression and thus it does not own you neither. because you lived it but it is not your life like your heart when you felt it but did not control it not because it was out of your control, but because you chose to set it free, and so too, you should be, rise above your society.
0
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 4:02 PM UTC
Oppression Ownership
Oppression Ownership Poem 1/26/2014 Why do we lead our hearts by the hand into our lovers' volatile elements quicksand mixed with fire Why do we blame it on desire say the heart wants what it wants, but mine doesn't want this at all Stop. Alleviating your hearts of guilt and shame because they're doing it perfectly. to fall in love and be willing to take set backs Stop. Let's take a step back. Give our hearts back their guilt and ownership over the oppression of a heart beat you can control but actually choose not to. Stop. Hear that? It is the sound of a heart beating, barely breathing but Stop. Now we've fixed it the problem we couldn't solve but don't absolve yourself of sin yet We've got another oppression needing to be handed over false ownership we play pretend. rather than play in a playground with each other. we blame another for our heart's oppression but right now in this room I am the only one holding a broom trying to tell you that you can't sweep it out out of your mind or cover it up with doubt. I'm not saying don't blame society for creating social constructs of love. I'm not saying that we don't live in a world that is filled with a sickness a sickness in some to say that like this we can't keep on living, because stop. We can and we have and we cannot and have not given up on each other, just on ourselves with every breath we use to utter that famous druther that our hearts are victims. needing to be fixed. that the world wants to see us suffer that we can't own our emotions they are far too mixed with envy and rage and the deepest sorrow anyone could never know. but I do know, that stop. I do know that stop that stop stop. I do know no I don't. I don't know but that's for you to figure out How to feel your heart's oppression but don't keep it under ownership instead let it out. squeeze it out through your soul before it gets to take its toll you have too much to do on this planet or even on mars, somewhere far up when you reach the stars because you shine brighter than bullets baby. when they get shot and hit something leaving a lasting impact. you pierce through the hull of a steel ship with that wicked bite of your lip when your silver tongue speaks golden beauties. to my wicker ears eager to be burned with the splendid delight of your brilliant vocalizations shouting, screaming, taming, keeping an eye opening message. that you do not own your heart's oppression and thus it does not own you neither. because you lived it but it is not your life like your heart when you felt it but did not control it not because it was out of your control, but because you chose to set it free, and so too, you should be, rise above your society.
Continue reading...
90
An ecosystem found upon An outer crust of dust Inside abode without a lawn With tenant taming rust. Sitting stagnant, songs of stellar Sing sublime lines Through minds that remain in cellar, Never seeing the pines. Many stagnant years have passed, Detectives overdue, The body brought them all aghast, The stench, the dust, and view. An ecosystem found upon An outer crust of dust Inside abode without a lawn With tenant taming rust.
0
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 3:49 AM UTC
Stagnation
Cracks in my character Lined with silk Lovers touch Like a sharpened blade Gliding smoothly Only painful when removed I'm a story book of unfortunate events and cliches And the morbidly curious find their way Into my arms A comforting fear A lion taming circus I'm not sure anymore if this gun Is still loaded with flowers But you Hold me so tight Squeeze out the anxiety Catch it Make me a balloon animal with its breath
0
Oct 5, 2017
Oct 5, 2017 at 2:03 PM UTC
Breaking Beautifully
*Today I'm so happy Know why My mom and my dad Are out this evening They are eating out I am all alone At our home I can do whatever i want As much as i want For as long as i want But I'm lazy All I'd do is lay and eat They should have took me with them Anyway I'm still happy It's the first time They left me alone at home An hour have passed Since they left I'm not getting bored Before it was fun But it's so boring now Without them I used to share them My stories What i did in day How me and my friends played And some of my secret stuff But now it got boring And i am feeling so sleepy so quick I heard two loud bangs I was asleep already But those loud bangs woke me up I thought they were sound of thunder But there were no clouds above I was wondering where those bangs came from But it's first time i heard those Couldn't figure out And I'm feeling sleepy again I woke up at mid night Again I am feeling restless It's so late Moon is shining above It's so scary The closes are above And lightening falling down And its really so scary Before when i used to get up at midnight My dad or my mom used to Get up for me and make me sleep again They haven't come home yet Why aren't they here I feel so fearful I feel so alone The hooting of owls The small roars The buzzing of insects I can hear it all My body shivers with each sound The darkness is taming me I'm so afraid Please come back mom and dad And they never came................*
0
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 10:48 AM UTC
From the diaries of baby deer-a collaboration with elsa angelica
Something happens for you something changes, a part of your power a part of your abilities a part of you when you’re faced with truth, and choice, when moving from known into uncertainty and in the face of this adversity, you lose a part of yourself The words want to escape.. I understand it is our nature; yours, mine, everyone's, it is the human condition & our shared suffering but don’t you see? it only masks the demons that come out when fear runs rampant & to win the fight we must be brave & discover what parts of our nature need taming because I’ve seen you move mountains & together we can move Earth itself Imagine for a fleeting moment, the dark side of the moon and it’s just you & I summon that same courage & fervour be bold. in the face of adversity that is my hope for you, that you find your fearlessness so you can be free The smoke it hangs low, a weight in my lungs like the feeling in my soul the forests burn themselves, and out of destruction, the new growth is born, like us be born again, let my love nourish & caress you scars and all rise to the challenge when fear beckons Lay your heavy head and tired mind in my lap and let your tears of sadness, and longing flow in the space between my legs let go. and like that, I will hold you & show you the promises I won’t break let me reveal my inner corners as you show me yours, and prove to you how tender I will be with your delicate heart tell me, how do I show you I am worthy of all your virtue & vanity Something happens for you, something changes when you’re faced with truth, and choice, when moving from known into uncertainty, resist the temptation & give into me instead make love to me. lay your lips on mine & slip yourself into the space between my hips let me show you true ecstasy, let the arch of my back show you what words can’t let our bated breaths & escaping moans be our solemn vow that fear will never rule here again let your fingers get tangled in my hair as your heart beats against mine, as a reminder of what is ours have courage & fervour to hold on, when fear taunts you to let go, when it smirks because the intensity almost burns, & your soul bleeds and your bones ache & your will is tested in these dark moments, find strength in me because something happens for you something changes, a part of your power a part of your abilities a part of you when you’re faced with truth, and choice, when moving from known into uncertainty, when you’re fearless
0
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 1:48 PM UTC
Something..
Something happens for you something changes, a part of your power a part of your abilities a part of you when you’re faced with truth, and choice, when moving from known into uncertainty and in the face of this adversity, you lose a part of yourself The words want to escape.. I understand it is our nature; yours, mine, everyone's, it is the human condition & our shared suffering but don’t you see? it only masks the demons that come out when fear runs rampant & to win the fight we must be brave & discover what parts of our nature need taming because I’ve seen you move mountains & together we can move Earth itself Imagine for a fleeting moment, the dark side of the moon and it’s just you & I summon that same courage & fervour be bold. in the face of adversity that is my hope for you, that you find your fearlessness so you can be free The smoke it hangs low, a weight in my lungs like the feeling in my soul the forests burn themselves, and out of destruction, the new growth is born, like us be born again, let my love nourish & caress you scars and all rise to the challenge when fear beckons Lay your heavy head and tired mind in my lap and let your tears of sadness, and longing flow in the space between my legs let go. and like that, I will hold you & show you the promises I won’t break let me reveal my inner corners as you show me yours, and prove to you how tender I will be with your delicate heart tell me, how do I show you I am worthy of all your virtue & vanity Something happens for you, something changes when you’re faced with truth, and choice, when moving from known into uncertainty, resist the temptation & give into me instead make love to me. lay your lips on mine & slip yourself into the space between my hips let me show you true ecstasy, let the arch of my back show you what words can’t let our bated breaths & escaping moans be our solemn vow that fear will never rule here again let your fingers get tangled in my hair as your heart beats against mine, as a reminder of what is ours have courage & fervour to hold on, when fear taunts you to let go, when it smirks because the intensity almost burns, & your soul bleeds and your bones ache & your will is tested in these dark moments, find strength in me because something happens for you something changes, a part of your power a part of your abilities a part of you when you’re faced with truth, and choice, when moving from known into uncertainty, when you’re fearless
Continue reading...
150
Your white bosoms releasing that white serum. That curvaceous mound feeds humanity, That makes the biggest humanity via motherhood wisdom. Your pink ******* arousing that tempest blood. That soft hill becoming hard, That hardens which heightens the adulthood. Your black ***** taming sin. That concealed shape popping out to provoke, That provokes to **** feminism in mean.
0
May 28, 2010
May 28, 2010 at 12:43 AM UTC
Pretty Ugly ******* A Women Trilogy
Disclaimer: I did this as a creative rewrite for one of my university lit courses, and all the inspiration and quotes belong to Robert Browning the original writer of "My Last Duchess" HIS LAST DUCHESS ARRIVEDERCI _“That’s my last Duchess painted on the wall, Looking as if she were alive.”_ (I’m not) Alas! Me, “a wonder.” He calls. Now wretchedly refined and pasteurized. To be consumed, now, for genteel eyes. Pity! Should you ever see me roll mine. Behind those curtains, you might have been surprised To see my countenance whimpering At you Sir; and seething, at _Him._ Must you not be fooled by that sickly decorum Upon which his manly pride resides. The Duke—what rich talent in envy he has, And of pithy idiosyncrasies! Pardon me now As I speak of his infamies: Is it not, Too preposterous of a Duke, to sulk And take offense, over a blush? (As if the blush was his to wield and shun.) Am I not allowed to flush _at all?_ And must I be ashamed of being swooned By the casual offers of life’s grandiosities? Each and every, dropping of the daylight, Ripen cherries in May and chivalrous gentlemen, my dear white mule; must I then weep at them all, only to prove my fancy for him. And when does gracious gratitude itself become in vain: a finite honour— deemed excessive elsewhere? Never had he plucked me out, for censure, Before he gave commands, I knew he did To pluck the smile out of my face. Utterly clueless—he thought I was To find myself throttled, for immodesty. A wife, an appendage to a Duke, Loosely felled, to stroke a green-eyed ego. My fault it seems, is a mere generosity Of affection: falsely opined, if not Misread, to fare a defect of temperament, A chronic malady, doth be cured by death. To cement the farce he will, soon, bring you Downstairs to meet a friend. (a fiend) A prized possession: Neptune, taming a sea-horse. His hubris incarnate, cast in bronze. But you must know the truth, for the sea-horse Did not perish for naught, she is freed from him At last.
0
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 3:26 PM UTC
HIS LAST DUCHESS
Disclaimer: I did this as a creative rewrite for one of my university lit courses, and all the inspiration and quotes belong to Robert Browning the original writer of "My Last Duchess" HIS LAST DUCHESS ARRIVEDERCI _“That’s my last Duchess painted on the wall, Looking as if she were alive.”_ (I’m not) Alas! Me, “a wonder.” He calls. Now wretchedly refined and pasteurized. To be consumed, now, for genteel eyes. Pity! Should you ever see me roll mine. Behind those curtains, you might have been surprised To see my countenance whimpering At you Sir; and seething, at _Him._ Must you not be fooled by that sickly decorum Upon which his manly pride resides. The Duke—what rich talent in envy he has, And of pithy idiosyncrasies! Pardon me now As I speak of his infamies: Is it not, Too preposterous of a Duke, to sulk And take offense, over a blush? (As if the blush was his to wield and shun.) Am I not allowed to flush _at all?_ And must I be ashamed of being swooned By the casual offers of life’s grandiosities? Each and every, dropping of the daylight, Ripen cherries in May and chivalrous gentlemen, my dear white mule; must I then weep at them all, only to prove my fancy for him. And when does gracious gratitude itself become in vain: a finite honour— deemed excessive elsewhere? Never had he plucked me out, for censure, Before he gave commands, I knew he did To pluck the smile out of my face. Utterly clueless—he thought I was To find myself throttled, for immodesty. A wife, an appendage to a Duke, Loosely felled, to stroke a green-eyed ego. My fault it seems, is a mere generosity Of affection: falsely opined, if not Misread, to fare a defect of temperament, A chronic malady, doth be cured by death. To cement the farce he will, soon, bring you Downstairs to meet a friend. (a fiend) A prized possession: Neptune, taming a sea-horse. His hubris incarnate, cast in bronze. But you must know the truth, for the sea-horse Did not perish for naught, she is freed from him At last.
Continue reading...
48
The spider Queen, aloofly vain! She rules a silent ruthless reign, with black-bead eyes like pearls of rain that damp the depths of her demesne. . . . A spider spins, with nimble feet, a sticky web of grim deceit that drapes the corners, dark, discreet, in catacombs of her retreat. Her jointed legs (in number, eight) traverse the threads with stilted gait, but often more she'll lie in wait within the hub of her estate. Shy spiders live their lives alone ensconced within a silky throne; unless a transient guest comes flown, their lives bide empty, monotone. . . Well, now and then, a sullen breeze may twitch the toils, begin to tease – yet nothing's caught and nothing pleas, so patience's bid at times like these. But then again, when stars ignite, may maunder by a gnat, by night, be taught a dance, a writhing rite, within a lace of death, wrapped tight. Sometimes a spider's in the mood and waits awhile, whilst being wooed – and then, to later feed her brood, the widow slays her mate for food. In time a spider dies, 'tis true, bequeathing but a residue entwined, devoid of retinue, in fibers decked in silver dew. . . . One asks "What purpose serves the GNAT – to feed and make the spider fat? Well, 'tis perchance just naught but that within a mindless habitat. . . "Yet, what's the aim?” you may inquire, “at the heart of MAN's desire. To which goals should WE aspire reaching high and reaching higher?" We've, through the ages, left the mire, trundling wheels and taming fire, doing deeds that must inspire, nursing needy, calming crier, … Such things as these, most may admire: - placid dove and war defier (some are bolder, some are shyer) - patience (mess-up mollifier); - humankind (Life's justifier) - charity (charmed self-denier) - tolerance (proud pacifier ) - love of Life (folk unifier). What more could we, as flesh, require? Needless kneeling neath the spire? Childish chanting in the choir? Preaching hell's impending pyre? No, Death's the only rectifier, comes the instant we expire, nothing after, sentience prior. So, treasure Life and don't deny Her.
0
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 1:29 PM UTC
The Gnat
The spider Queen, aloofly vain! She rules a silent ruthless reign, with black-bead eyes like pearls of rain that damp the depths of her demesne. . . . A spider spins, with nimble feet, a sticky web of grim deceit that drapes the corners, dark, discreet, in catacombs of her retreat. Her jointed legs (in number, eight) traverse the threads with stilted gait, but often more she'll lie in wait within the hub of her estate. Shy spiders live their lives alone ensconced within a silky throne; unless a transient guest comes flown, their lives bide empty, monotone. . . Well, now and then, a sullen breeze may twitch the toils, begin to tease – yet nothing's caught and nothing pleas, so patience's bid at times like these. But then again, when stars ignite, may maunder by a gnat, by night, be taught a dance, a writhing rite, within a lace of death, wrapped tight. Sometimes a spider's in the mood and waits awhile, whilst being wooed – and then, to later feed her brood, the widow slays her mate for food. In time a spider dies, 'tis true, bequeathing but a residue entwined, devoid of retinue, in fibers decked in silver dew. . . . One asks "What purpose serves the GNAT – to feed and make the spider fat? Well, 'tis perchance just naught but that within a mindless habitat. . . "Yet, what's the aim?” you may inquire, “at the heart of MAN's desire. To which goals should WE aspire reaching high and reaching higher?" We've, through the ages, left the mire, trundling wheels and taming fire, doing deeds that must inspire, nursing needy, calming crier, … Such things as these, most may admire: - placid dove and war defier (some are bolder, some are shyer) - patience (mess-up mollifier); - humankind (Life's justifier) - charity (charmed self-denier) - tolerance (proud pacifier ) - love of Life (folk unifier). What more could we, as flesh, require? Needless kneeling neath the spire? Childish chanting in the choir? Preaching hell's impending pyre? No, Death's the only rectifier, comes the instant we expire, nothing after, sentience prior. So, treasure Life and don't deny Her.
Continue reading...
70
Fear Of Missing Out This is the phobia many of the readers are plagued by. I came to know about it just recently through an article published in the newspaper. Many people these days think that if they don't have a "Facebook", "Twitter", "G+" or any other social website account, or if their mobile doesn't have "Whatsapp" or any other so-called "social application" in "a smartphone" then they think that they are missing out on worldly affairs and start taming a phobia, dubbed F.O.M.O. by psychologists around the globe. I am disillusioned by the need of an indispensable online society where people all behave in a virtual manner and project themselves to be the best.
0
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 9:17 PM UTC
F.O.M.O. - An Important Article
Destined to dominate, Taming a fierce lion. Velvet whip at the ready, The cracks make her purr. She is so used to being in control, My time to take the reigns. Give her pain and suffering, To make the scale equal again. She might want to win, But she loves when I bring her to her knees. Manipulating the monster, That I thought controlled me. Your sentence is simple, Eye for an eye. You killed me inside out, Now it's your time to die. Glad you did your research, Now it's time for the test. Will you fight me off, Or can you truly not resist? I have the power in this cage, Lock me in, So I can't engage.
0
Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 2:43 PM UTC
The Libra and The Leo
Ever had the feeling of being trapped in a glass box with the air slowly running out, with every breath? In sun, rain, snow and storm, the box gets dark or warm but what you can do always remains the same. Have you just simply wanted to walk away or break free? To travel the world taming Lion cubs and petting great white sharks? To wake up to a sunrise in a Dutch farm and watch it set over the Mediterranean sea? To teach children in Thailand or India? To salsa on the streets of Mexico or be blinded by the lights in Dubai? Have you ever wanted to be border-less? To not be punished for being born in a country where the sun is hot and people are poor? Have you ever just wanted to work, get a place, pay taxes, and not ignore the growling of your stomach so your 5 pound takeaway stretches over 3 days postponing the date to buy the next food stock? Have you ever wanted to check your bank account without having your fingers crossed, because even though you know the exact balance you hope by some miracle it will be more? Have you prayed for immigration to back the hell off leaving you to make a living without risking deportation? Have you ever got tired of playing by the rules when the Albanian Mafia and Walmart makes more money per hour than what you'd make in a lifetime, or two? With heart aches and emotional games, and attending Sunday mass becoming more of a cliché, with rejection and doors closed, at the cost of owning a brown passport, with your head spinning and back against the wall, have you wondered what life wants from you at all? To all the women being trafficked for *** and the children slaving away spinning Persian carpets, tonight it's too cold to snow outside my glass box. Inside, it's too sad to cry...
0
Feb 22, 2013
Feb 22, 2013 at 8:16 PM UTC
When the going gets tough
Ever had the feeling of being trapped in a glass box with the air slowly running out, with every breath? In sun, rain, snow and storm, the box gets dark or warm but what you can do always remains the same. Have you just simply wanted to walk away or break free? To travel the world taming Lion cubs and petting great white sharks? To wake up to a sunrise in a Dutch farm and watch it set over the Mediterranean sea? To teach children in Thailand or India? To salsa on the streets of Mexico or be blinded by the lights in Dubai? Have you ever wanted to be border-less? To not be punished for being born in a country where the sun is hot and people are poor? Have you ever just wanted to work, get a place, pay taxes, and not ignore the growling of your stomach so your 5 pound takeaway stretches over 3 days postponing the date to buy the next food stock? Have you ever wanted to check your bank account without having your fingers crossed, because even though you know the exact balance you hope by some miracle it will be more? Have you prayed for immigration to back the hell off leaving you to make a living without risking deportation? Have you ever got tired of playing by the rules when the Albanian Mafia and Walmart makes more money per hour than what you'd make in a lifetime, or two? With heart aches and emotional games, and attending Sunday mass becoming more of a cliché, with rejection and doors closed, at the cost of owning a brown passport, with your head spinning and back against the wall, have you wondered what life wants from you at all? To all the women being trafficked for *** and the children slaving away spinning Persian carpets, tonight it's too cold to snow outside my glass box. Inside, it's too sad to cry...
Continue reading...
35
On a calm afternoon, a fox caught her heart This beautiful fox was wild and not tamed But in an instant she fell in love with it She then planned to tame the fox She approached it ever so gently It was in the field basking under the rays of the sun The fox sat there so majestic And it bewitched her more She sat beside the fox and said a promise no one could forget "I'll tame you my fox, with my time and consistency you will be mine" With all sincerity she have said that And she plans to keep this promise until the earth crumbles The fox agreed and held on to the sweet promise of hers With all her love she will do anything for the fox to be tamed No hearts will be broken and no tears will escape the eyes For she took her promise seriously and it will not be shattered
0
Mar 14, 2021
Mar 14, 2021 at 9:59 PM UTC
Taming the fox
My dear lover, why did they put me here? Reckless in authority      Pushing, pulling, straining, taming Trying to tame me      Tame you, tame us, tame them! Would someone please try to tame them?      Save them, save me, save us, love They did it because of a love      What's so wrong about love? Whipping, striking, beating, bleeding      One hit, two hits, three hits, four      Five knocks me to the floor Sit up! Stand up! See your ****** mother* cry!      I'm sorry brother for lusting lies Lies told and lies seen      Lies for things which you define me Kick the chair from beneath my feet      A noose hangs loose from this old tree As my neck strains against these strings      Last thoughts wonder to Adam & Eve Who ate the fruit which planted these seeds      The poisoned fruits are you and me
0
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 2:56 PM UTC
A Hanging
Sa dalan sa kinabuhi nga akong ginasubay, kitang duha nag.abot ug nagkaila bisan dili angay, sa kinabuhi ko miabot ug nihatag ug kalipay tinud.anay, sa mubong panahon ang mga kasikas sa dughan nahupay, bisan ug sa matag higayon na kitang duha mag.away, muabot man sa panahon nga wala nay tingganay, ayaw lang ug kabalaka oh akong inday, kay ang gisinggit sa akong dughan ikaw ra gyud kanunay, sa akong kasing kasing nga puno sa kasakit ug kalaay, ikaw lang ang bugtong nakahatag ug kalipay, bisan wala ako diha sa imong kiliran huna-hunaa ania rako nagabantay, ug bisan si kamatayan pa man akong mamahimong kaaway, laumi nga ako na imong taming kanimo manalipod kanunay, nasayud ko nga ikaw dili sama sa uban nga bugay, bisan pa tuod nga pirme nako makita sa imong hulagway, ang dagway sa usa ka taw nga gilaay, kahibalo ako nga bisan ug gamay, nga ikaw anaa ra sa inyuhang balay, kanunay nga ga bansay bansay, sa mga dautang buhat ikaw nagalikay, kay ikaw gusto ug kanunay nga hapsay, ayaw lang ug kabalaka kay, magahulat ako kanimo bisan unsa paman kadugay, maningkamot nga na akong mhatag ang kaharuhay, bisan pa kining kasin-kasing ko dugay mo ra nga gipatay.
0
Sep 20, 2019
Sep 20, 2019 at 4:36 PM UTC
Kasing kasing na Patay
remember mr shakespeare he was very bright he wrote lots of plays hamlet and twelfth night the merchant of venice the taming of the shrew othello and king lear just to name a few he was born in england many years ago with the name of william that everyone would know he wrote lots of poems in between the plays thats how mr shakespeare used to pass his days now is name lives on to this very day the name of mr shakespeare will never go away.
0
Mar 9, 2010
Mar 9, 2010 at 3:01 AM UTC
mr shakespeare
I ended up at the wrong time, in the wrong place, carrying a dead flashlight that instead of shining, offered me an elusive shape— a spectacle of shadows. What was a hand became a dog barking on the wall, or a ghost-rabbit vanishing into nothingness. My rational “I” still asks why, and I have no answer. I just smile with sadness: that was the script, that had to happen. Bittersweet medicine, already swallowed, the side effects dissolved. And I boarded another train. Writing? I only wanted an ordinary life, with some humor and a pinch of self-irony. Saturn joined, Saturn divided, at 8:18 a.m. Maybe we humans don’t have the stillness to break free from the pattern of silver rings made of dust and ice, imposed by an ego. Maybe we prefer the safety of the shadow, ice melts in daylight. My story: a new-old flat, my imperfect poems… Really? For this, I was made? I’m not a poet. I’m a living voice, taming incomprehension convincing myself that dawn is near, and I’m strong enough to rise, not looking anymore for cold mirrors.
0
Jun 20, 2025
Jun 20, 2025 at 4:45 AM UTC
Retrospection
Lo, I have loved thee long, long have I yearned and entreated! Tell me how I may win thee, tell me how I must woo. Shall I creep to thy white feet, in guise of a humble lover ? Shall I croon in mild petition, murmuring vows anew ? Shall I stretch my arms unto thee, biding thy maiden coyness, Under the silver of morning, under the purple of night ? Taming my ancient rudeness, checking my heady clamor­ Thus, is it thus I must woo thee, oh, my delight? Nay, 'tis no way of the sea thus to be meekly suitor­ I shall storm thee away with laughter wrapped in my beard of snow, With the wildest of billows for chords I shall harp thee a song for thy bridal, A mighty lyric of love that feared not nor would forego! With a red-gold wedding ring, mined from the caves of sunset, Fast shall I bind thy faith to my faith evermore, And the stars will wait on our pleasure, the great north wind will trumpet A thunderous marriage march for the nuptials of sea and shore.
0
2.8k
The Sea to the Shore
I see you fetus on radar struggle and heart beat sensors yet I don’t know your thoughts about your home! I see you form but you don’t see me. But what do you strive for? What do you believe you are? Do you have goals? If I had to guess they’d most likely be comical attempts at taming wind. As for me I know your destiny 9 months from conception. Your world is a world within a world called earth dependent on an inception that unknowingly feeds you maturated to the inevitable extinction of your entire world. This is called death and I know it’s scary. Why would you ever imagine leaving your tight spot comfortable? I feel that way about earth more often then I’d like to admit. Let me stop for now because I’m jumping the gun, I’ll discuss this new world after contractions. Have faith your birth is coming and with this death new life will emerge. I know it’s hard to grasp and even if knowing this was possible u’d still leave kicking and screaming but just wait and you’ll know what I mean in due time. So enough about you for a moment for I am in a paradox that I can’t explain! It started with my death from the womb (birth) which brought life on the sweetness of earth but upon that emergence started a countdown to a new death! Which leaves me to this moment. I am preparing like you but in different ways. I know you can’t give me answers but at least we are one in the same dilemma of subjectivity to our respective womb. I wish we could compare notes and come to a consensus that understands the futility of our worlds permanence. For I am a lot like you! I am a fetus in this world called man and my womb is mother earth. I want to learn from your mistakes! This world is dying like your womb and it’s just as hard for me to come to grips that this is not my home. Fetus thank you for allowing me to view your delusion so I can understand mine. Jesus gives me the truth because he sees me like I see you. Not to be hypocritical I must strive not to leave kicking and screaming. I know this is not my home but a place of active preparation for eternity! As for you fetus one birth at a time.
0
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 11:48 PM UTC
“Ignorant Fetus Dead”
I see you fetus on radar struggle and heart beat sensors yet I don’t know your thoughts about your home! I see you form but you don’t see me. But what do you strive for? What do you believe you are? Do you have goals? If I had to guess they’d most likely be comical attempts at taming wind. As for me I know your destiny 9 months from conception. Your world is a world within a world called earth dependent on an inception that unknowingly feeds you maturated to the inevitable extinction of your entire world. This is called death and I know it’s scary. Why would you ever imagine leaving your tight spot comfortable? I feel that way about earth more often then I’d like to admit. Let me stop for now because I’m jumping the gun, I’ll discuss this new world after contractions. Have faith your birth is coming and with this death new life will emerge. I know it’s hard to grasp and even if knowing this was possible u’d still leave kicking and screaming but just wait and you’ll know what I mean in due time. So enough about you for a moment for I am in a paradox that I can’t explain! It started with my death from the womb (birth) which brought life on the sweetness of earth but upon that emergence started a countdown to a new death! Which leaves me to this moment. I am preparing like you but in different ways. I know you can’t give me answers but at least we are one in the same dilemma of subjectivity to our respective womb. I wish we could compare notes and come to a consensus that understands the futility of our worlds permanence. For I am a lot like you! I am a fetus in this world called man and my womb is mother earth. I want to learn from your mistakes! This world is dying like your womb and it’s just as hard for me to come to grips that this is not my home. Fetus thank you for allowing me to view your delusion so I can understand mine. Jesus gives me the truth because he sees me like I see you. Not to be hypocritical I must strive not to leave kicking and screaming. I know this is not my home but a place of active preparation for eternity! As for you fetus one birth at a time.
Continue reading...
1
I'm going to go through with it This just has to be done It's all going to stop Chasing our tail around For The ****** Dollar It's all the same in the end Passionate and proud At the burst of a cloud Rain falls in whispers All today and into the night When the wild are on the verge Of some kind of taming Who cares who you are blaming How much does it matter that some are unaccountable Not that you can get away with ****** and wars When it's time to take your artwork And put it in a frame The picture is yours It's the painter who takes the claim When it's time to die What's in it for the stars Maybe a big wake and Miles of lined up long electric cars The mountain's shadow Keeps the place cool in the summer Not 'till the volcano spews it's guts Will you lay down and burn Or vaporize just in time It's over with the death of the Star 'What is and was will be  bleaker and bleaker A place you'd turn your head away from When we have this chance to change into living without borders What does that mean a shot of the The New World Order An evocation of imaginations of and for the somewhat rich and the richer   A full and complete Police State, militia walk the street, Their bidding done No way to travel but by foot And the odd old bicycle   Horse and mules being bred To save the soles on your leather boots All the waters contaminated all the crops hollow not fit for an animal We go this way or we go that Who will drag us down or Who will bring us up Vibrational  influences could save us all We can't keep trying to tell ourselves that the Government Has our best interests at heart because they don't If there is war among the classes it's a way to distract us But it needs to be done and I'm bringing my 'A' game
0
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 1:09 PM UTC
Death Of The Sun
I'm going to go through with it This just has to be done It's all going to stop Chasing our tail around For The ****** Dollar It's all the same in the end Passionate and proud At the burst of a cloud Rain falls in whispers All today and into the night When the wild are on the verge Of some kind of taming Who cares who you are blaming How much does it matter that some are unaccountable Not that you can get away with ****** and wars When it's time to take your artwork And put it in a frame The picture is yours It's the painter who takes the claim When it's time to die What's in it for the stars Maybe a big wake and Miles of lined up long electric cars The mountain's shadow Keeps the place cool in the summer Not 'till the volcano spews it's guts Will you lay down and burn Or vaporize just in time It's over with the death of the Star 'What is and was will be  bleaker and bleaker A place you'd turn your head away from When we have this chance to change into living without borders What does that mean a shot of the The New World Order An evocation of imaginations of and for the somewhat rich and the richer   A full and complete Police State, militia walk the street, Their bidding done No way to travel but by foot And the odd old bicycle   Horse and mules being bred To save the soles on your leather boots All the waters contaminated all the crops hollow not fit for an animal We go this way or we go that Who will drag us down or Who will bring us up Vibrational  influences could save us all We can't keep trying to tell ourselves that the Government Has our best interests at heart because they don't If there is war among the classes it's a way to distract us But it needs to be done and I'm bringing my 'A' game
Continue reading...
48