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"thre" poems
it had to be ants. the town turned out, a pound a time, to see the model railway of dolgellau. amazing as it was, as you know i do like tiny things, expecially trains. more astonishing was the conversation, face close, on ants that bit up his legs at bingo, formic acid and calamine explained in detail. thre train went by, with tiny noise, as he rolled up his trouser leg to show me. the explaination as detailed as the dioramal, on and on and on. a nice man. my daughter saved me. twice. it was a good turnout, an excellent, award winning model railway. sbm.
0
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 4:00 AM UTC
:: diorama ::
On the outer carapace of it,      all seems ok I am held together by single dry thre                         a ds like wire and strips of sinews they keep me tightly-wrapped, a package of molten powders secret dynamite waiting to     e x p l o d e  in exotic ticks       of clockwork but one scratch beneath the surface reveals my inner truth: How I wish, by those whorled and spiraled powers above, for the gently fluted forces of my being to be parted like sacred seawater with my psyche    f l o a t i n g just beyond the zing of        my brain, no rational            understanding required yes. I long to be ever-slowly            unraveled, layer by layer cell by cell until all that is left are the platelets pulsating between this heart            and yours each beat betraying an acute intensity of how I felt it,       this tender electricity that crackled         through and                  between             our bones           from the         very       beginning of     our quiet blaze our pinnacle our quirky metallic      textures our breath mingling over airwaves          in heated                  fluidity    hotly drenched in the iridescent   dust of our      star-marked                      time
0
Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 10:28 AM UTC
unraveled
Her beauty is astounding It leaves my heart pounding I won't bore you with the details But when she walks past an angel hails I try to explain this feeling How she sets my head reeling But she pushes me away "Ugly got too close to me today" She doesn't care that I'm a girl And she sets my head in a whirl It's my look she objects to The cruelty of nature, through and through Every day I try, I do To get those thre words out "I love you" Every day she shows me The dirt is the only place I can ever be "Ugly. I'm pretty. You're not." I don't care a jot Her hands are filthier than mine Disinfectant doesn't change a detail so fine "Ugly. I'm pretty. You can never be." It's true, I know, as I fall to on knee She looks perfect but her heart is flawed There's only one way she can be cured "Pretty. I'm Ugly. You should be too. I only do this because I love you The knife slices through her skin I hold her frame, so gentle and thin "I'm Ugly now, you're to blame." Through her bandages her eyes are aflame "You were always Ugly, to the core Be Pretty my love, as never before."
0
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 5:36 PM UTC
Be Pretty
I don’t know why you left me, and I guess I never will, but all of these feelings are dawning on my mind. These feelings of “I’m not good enough” and that “I’ll never be good enough” because you left. You left me at one of the most fragile points in my life an I had never felt so alone. You swore to me that you would always be thre no matter what, but instead of upholding that promise, you ended our friendship with a text message. Not only did you leave me with these feelings, you also left me with trust issues. I never thought I’d be able to trust anyone the same way I trusted you again. I went into college skeptical of everyone, trying to trust people, but I just couldn’t trust anyone the same way I trusted you. You made a part of my life ******* **** because you had to be selfish and claim that you didn’t have time for friends, but oh how Facebook shows your lies. And a few times I’ve caved. I messaged you. But now you’re really out of my life, but you’ll never be out of my mind because you’re in my memories. Saying you were never there would be a lie because you did indeed help me through my toughest times. But of all this bad, you showed me something good. You showed me that in order to be able to trust I had to find myself and when I finally found myself, I found someone better than you. Someone I know won’t leave me, someone who literally has no time for anything, but still makes time for me. And I found this because I found myself. All those countless hours crying, hoping you’d come back into my life or that you’d give me closure, those hours led me to some amazing people in my life. So thank you for breaking my heart, thank you for pulling me in and leaving me hung out to dry. Thank you for teaching me that the people in my life that truly care are the ones that will never leave. **Most importantly, thank you for letting go.**
0
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 7:28 PM UTC
Letting Go
I don’t know why you left me, and I guess I never will, but all of these feelings are dawning on my mind. These feelings of “I’m not good enough” and that “I’ll never be good enough” because you left. You left me at one of the most fragile points in my life an I had never felt so alone. You swore to me that you would always be thre no matter what, but instead of upholding that promise, you ended our friendship with a text message. Not only did you leave me with these feelings, you also left me with trust issues. I never thought I’d be able to trust anyone the same way I trusted you again. I went into college skeptical of everyone, trying to trust people, but I just couldn’t trust anyone the same way I trusted you. You made a part of my life ******* **** because you had to be selfish and claim that you didn’t have time for friends, but oh how Facebook shows your lies. And a few times I’ve caved. I messaged you. But now you’re really out of my life, but you’ll never be out of my mind because you’re in my memories. Saying you were never there would be a lie because you did indeed help me through my toughest times. But of all this bad, you showed me something good. You showed me that in order to be able to trust I had to find myself and when I finally found myself, I found someone better than you. Someone I know won’t leave me, someone who literally has no time for anything, but still makes time for me. And I found this because I found myself. All those countless hours crying, hoping you’d come back into my life or that you’d give me closure, those hours led me to some amazing people in my life. So thank you for breaking my heart, thank you for pulling me in and leaving me hung out to dry. Thank you for teaching me that the people in my life that truly care are the ones that will never leave. **Most importantly, thank you for letting go.**
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16
Thre strikes down the middle of my thigh running red as I wonder why and how this has happened to me Why the skies mirror my eyes: dark, and clouded, playing shy. Three strikes I'm out (that's the rule of the game) But I no longer really want to play, anyway.
0
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 12:58 AM UTC
Three Strikes
From the Prayer of Saint Ignatius of Loyola (see notes) <> the phrase grabs my eyelids, a forced opening, nay, a denial of closing, our most human and natural escape hatch and I wonder… is it self~slander, or is it the obverse, that explores a desire to enumerate honestly for what is…is… let the costs count us! is that it? merely poetry airy escapery, what passes for  t r u t h  in these dark days? <> the damning costs count me in their number!p as ****** <!> hapless victim of living, pondering ponderous divination of saintly defiant definitions of ‘greater good’ ’tis the difficile, entre the pill and the bitter, oh so bitter the herbs, for it is so plainly & so hard to differentiate, et distinguer mais être distingué(1) distinguish tween but not to be distinguished memories that are costs disguised, reverting as dreams, in the true~alone hours of the twenty four, when it’s just you, & fighter and worthy opponent them costs, who needs no definition tolling the steeple bells of utter anguish, as you're thre greatest living expert in these matters, (le plus personnel) the sins of action and transaction, And the worst, those  truly heinous inactions, face off in opposition in the boxing ring <> and the costs paid, a savage skilled opponent, intimate of your every trickery, the bare knuckled brawler, whose knows, knows! the true tally, the bodies you’ve buried, the children witnesses to your creative abominations, lies you tell no one else, but yourself- every single day! the urge to cease here grows stronger by the second, minutes past and les défenses have risen, what disclosures revelations bring forgiveness? this my spotlight, caught in the headlights, where fessing up is in reverse, fessing down to the black bottom, where ugliness is the normative and vain attempts at denial offers no escapes from glutinous disgusting mess of gelled of nothing but the truth nah, you don’t want to know, what a human can accomplish in a short seven decades of decadence and recount constantly the costs of consternation <> so I‘ll let you retreat to the gray masses all your own where your very owned wonderings are intercepted for where I go now willingly, unfailingly, failing needing not, requiring not no company
0
Jul 13, 2024
Jul 13, 2024 at 7:17 AM UTC
“and (not) to count the costs...”
From the Prayer of Saint Ignatius of Loyola (see notes) <> the phrase grabs my eyelids, a forced opening, nay, a denial of closing, our most human and natural escape hatch and I wonder… is it self~slander, or is it the obverse, that explores a desire to enumerate honestly for what is…is… let the costs count us! is that it? merely poetry airy escapery, what passes for  t r u t h  in these dark days? <> the damning costs count me in their number!p as ****** <!> hapless victim of living, pondering ponderous divination of saintly defiant definitions of ‘greater good’ ’tis the difficile, entre the pill and the bitter, oh so bitter the herbs, for it is so plainly & so hard to differentiate, et distinguer mais être distingué(1) distinguish tween but not to be distinguished memories that are costs disguised, reverting as dreams, in the true~alone hours of the twenty four, when it’s just you, & fighter and worthy opponent them costs, who needs no definition tolling the steeple bells of utter anguish, as you're thre greatest living expert in these matters, (le plus personnel) the sins of action and transaction, And the worst, those  truly heinous inactions, face off in opposition in the boxing ring <> and the costs paid, a savage skilled opponent, intimate of your every trickery, the bare knuckled brawler, whose knows, knows! the true tally, the bodies you’ve buried, the children witnesses to your creative abominations, lies you tell no one else, but yourself- every single day! the urge to cease here grows stronger by the second, minutes past and les défenses have risen, what disclosures revelations bring forgiveness? this my spotlight, caught in the headlights, where fessing up is in reverse, fessing down to the black bottom, where ugliness is the normative and vain attempts at denial offers no escapes from glutinous disgusting mess of gelled of nothing but the truth nah, you don’t want to know, what a human can accomplish in a short seven decades of decadence and recount constantly the costs of consternation <> so I‘ll let you retreat to the gray masses all your own where your very owned wonderings are intercepted for where I go now willingly, unfailingly, failing needing not, requiring not no company
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93
We are both young and misguided, She has that perfect *** that I can't help but fantasize about...she's been that girl that I want to both love and fuck...until one day,when she came over to my place,she was wearing a white skin tight jumpsuit which revealed her perfect *** and showed some cleavage...we sat and talked for a few minutes and then there was that awkward silence...I told her that:"I really want to take off that jumpsuit and make love to you right now."She sat thre speechless blinking rapidly,biting her lower lip,I moved closer..we started kissing,I pulled her lip,grabbed her *** with my hands,I then unzipped her jumpsuit she wasn't wearing a bra,I took off all the way to her waist..and there they were the two sisters(breasts) both firm and pointed my way...I massaged them while kissing her,I moved down to her neck,I kissed it softly,I then began sucking,she gasps,I move my hand down into her pussy...she's wet,I take off the rest of her jumpsuit,she is wearing white undies,which I sniff..she smells nice,her ***** is shaved,I insert my finger inside her,she moans,I play with her g-spot,she is moaning calling out my name,she cums,I push her onto the black leather couch,put on my condom,I slowly go inside of her,she gasps,her eyes and mouth widely open,I start going in and out slowly picking up the pace,she is screaming:"ohh God ohh ******** me ohh **** me hard phephsi,ohh baby that's right ohh right there"I'm now ******* her harder,my groin slamming into her phat ass,all the thrusting and pumping goes on for a few minutes and she **** before me,I *** a few seconds after her..I watch her ***** releasing her cum,she is shuttered I **** her pussy,she freezes for a couple of seconds I continues ******* she is screaming louder than before...I **** her **** so gentle she **** again...I stop and sleep beside her...says"Boy you know how to **** and **** we should do this more often" I give her a wicked grin and nod
0
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 6:22 PM UTC
Untitled
We are both young and misguided, She has that perfect *** that I can't help but fantasize about...she's been that girl that I want to both love and fuck...until one day,when she came over to my place,she was wearing a white skin tight jumpsuit which revealed her perfect *** and showed some cleavage...we sat and talked for a few minutes and then there was that awkward silence...I told her that:"I really want to take off that jumpsuit and make love to you right now."She sat thre speechless blinking rapidly,biting her lower lip,I moved closer..we started kissing,I pulled her lip,grabbed her *** with my hands,I then unzipped her jumpsuit she wasn't wearing a bra,I took off all the way to her waist..and there they were the two sisters(breasts) both firm and pointed my way...I massaged them while kissing her,I moved down to her neck,I kissed it softly,I then began sucking,she gasps,I move my hand down into her pussy...she's wet,I take off the rest of her jumpsuit,she is wearing white undies,which I sniff..she smells nice,her ***** is shaved,I insert my finger inside her,she moans,I play with her g-spot,she is moaning calling out my name,she cums,I push her onto the black leather couch,put on my condom,I slowly go inside of her,she gasps,her eyes and mouth widely open,I start going in and out slowly picking up the pace,she is screaming:"ohh God ohh ******** me ohh **** me hard phephsi,ohh baby that's right ohh right there"I'm now ******* her harder,my groin slamming into her phat ass,all the thrusting and pumping goes on for a few minutes and she **** before me,I *** a few seconds after her..I watch her ***** releasing her cum,she is shuttered I **** her pussy,she freezes for a couple of seconds I continues ******* she is screaming louder than before...I **** her **** so gentle she **** again...I stop and sleep beside her...says"Boy you know how to **** and **** we should do this more often" I give her a wicked grin and nod
Continue reading...
40
It is the single way direction or a flow, which is lived when beautiful colours starts to glow, it is a pleasant morning which have a rainbow variation, no shadow remains after ending of this desire, and when it is lived it float in every moment in the burning fire, it is not a certified product but have manufacturing date and time, and always have an experiy date but it is not mentioned, but for everyone the time period is sectioned, with a slight easyway way you can enjoy every moment of life, but within a moment the whole path, can change and can close the newly started file of life, many faces are thre many emotions are on it, but we can't judge them by felling their soul from in. :(
0
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 7:29 AM UTC
what is life
I love you. This my girl, is so true. Yes, I love you. This my love is very true. If I gave you a teddy bear. It's given with tender, loving and care. If I wrote you a poem. It will be sincere and warm hearted with truth. With the words I love you at the end. I would hire an air plane. And as it flies above. Thre banner with be following behind with the words, I love you. This my love is very real and true.
0
Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 8:51 PM UTC
I Love You
Pride is everywhere Comes in many forms The rich man is proud of what he has The poor man is honored for having less The talented are proud of what they do The less talented are proud of their hard work The religious are proud of their religion The unbeliever proud of his unbelief The established man is proud of his social status The counter-cultured proud to be outcast The learned man proud of his intelligence The simple man proud of his simplicity If thre is a universal sin would not pride be the first God hates the men of pride He thinks they are the worst
0
Apr 27, 2025
Apr 27, 2025 at 5:24 AM UTC
Pride
--- (•) --- Girl out on the street Madness on the loose Predator upon thre prowl •• Young boy has a plan Gonna stay a BOY forever Never gonna be a MAN = We all know We won't take the CHANCE we can talk the lover's talk We can cry the phoney tears •••• •••• It's all a silly PLAY Drama kings & queens We can fake it well We can hurt each other We can hurt ourselves •• After the years a DAY comes & remains Feels like shame ( cause that's what it is ) •• Everybody got the same sick plan Blood upon our hands
0
Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
sensitively doing nothing at all
How to **** myself? If I'm already dead inside. Why I am afraid of disappointing them? If I'm already useless person How to be alive? if you already wanna return thre life you borrowed from God. How to make them proud? If I'm already drowning down myself.
0
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 1:20 AM UTC
nothing