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"tiffs" poems
It's never goodbye Always see you later Though my body is far My mind is nearer Than the air you are breathing I'm with you there sleeping Always remember Never forget The time that we've spent Together again Soon we will be So don't you dare fret The going gets tough We've always had it a bit rough Roll with the punches And play with cards that are dealt With a bond such as ours We will always prevail Over the hardships and toils Our blood, it will boil Tiffs and spats will be had But, we'll never stay mad It's been fun and will remain Joyous all the same Cuz it's never goodbye Just see you later
0
Jul 31, 2012
Jul 31, 2012 at 11:34 PM UTC
See You Later
CREOLE PIDGIN ENGLISH wetin de call dis, wetin you go call dis oyinbo com tiffy tiffy from ma yard I no trouble yam, I no go knock on dem fer notin but oyinbo an dem pally com de burglarise ma hice you hear me so! I say oyinbo com de steal from me home Dem be thieves tiffing all over de compound an when I go say why you tiff about the place oyinbo tiffs them tell me I go be the *** whey go suffer See palava see how dem de treat black people in dem country. If I go steal from oyinbos, na ma *** dem go trow in jail yet for dem town, dem com steal your property and when you go talk they slap you down Dem go make me loose ma bread, loose ma woman Dem spoil ma name, them abuse me Dem tell al kinna lies against me Dem make nonsense stories and fabu abot me Dem harass me, discredit and disprofit me oh! Dem become tomenters, dem say dem go drive me crazy dem go ruin ma life, dem go make me sik in da head And heavens know i never trouble any persons I never put ma feet in anybody house to steal I never see this kin ting before where you go do wrong and destroy him whey he do no wrong Dis is what dem do here now, make you people know I no fit work, I no fit go anywhere without oyinbo and him pally dem follow and harass ma *** dem say dem want me dead Dead for stealing from me, dead for me doing notin wrong an them feel proud for all dem de do, dem feel right for wrong De kin wickedness whey devil himself no fit do, dem don do And I swear before man an God, dem go get their retributions Every single one of dem whey involve God go punish dem God go bring the chaos of hell on dem God go mash dem up like dem mash ma life Except God no be God an tru an  real Dem are evil people and evil will claim every single one of dem who do dis to ma innocence. Peoples wherefer you be, wherefef you go, make you know That in london der are evil oyinbo thiffs dere an them go steal and destroy your life if you talk I beg jus pray for me, dem want me dead Dem want blood. De blood of an inoncent man who never trouble anybody dem de make mockery of me now Dem de call me Modern day Jesus.... An by de Grace of de real Jesus Christ Each an every one of dem who hav made me suffa Will get dem just reward, I wait on the Lord He is a tru an just God and Him say Vengeance is mine...
0
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 11:40 PM UTC
Wat can palava be dis?....
CREOLE PIDGIN ENGLISH wetin de call dis, wetin you go call dis oyinbo com tiffy tiffy from ma yard I no trouble yam, I no go knock on dem fer notin but oyinbo an dem pally com de burglarise ma hice you hear me so! I say oyinbo com de steal from me home Dem be thieves tiffing all over de compound an when I go say why you tiff about the place oyinbo tiffs them tell me I go be the *** whey go suffer See palava see how dem de treat black people in dem country. If I go steal from oyinbos, na ma *** dem go trow in jail yet for dem town, dem com steal your property and when you go talk they slap you down Dem go make me loose ma bread, loose ma woman Dem spoil ma name, them abuse me Dem tell al kinna lies against me Dem make nonsense stories and fabu abot me Dem harass me, discredit and disprofit me oh! Dem become tomenters, dem say dem go drive me crazy dem go ruin ma life, dem go make me sik in da head And heavens know i never trouble any persons I never put ma feet in anybody house to steal I never see this kin ting before where you go do wrong and destroy him whey he do no wrong Dis is what dem do here now, make you people know I no fit work, I no fit go anywhere without oyinbo and him pally dem follow and harass ma *** dem say dem want me dead Dead for stealing from me, dead for me doing notin wrong an them feel proud for all dem de do, dem feel right for wrong De kin wickedness whey devil himself no fit do, dem don do And I swear before man an God, dem go get their retributions Every single one of dem whey involve God go punish dem God go bring the chaos of hell on dem God go mash dem up like dem mash ma life Except God no be God an tru an  real Dem are evil people and evil will claim every single one of dem who do dis to ma innocence. Peoples wherefer you be, wherefef you go, make you know That in london der are evil oyinbo thiffs dere an them go steal and destroy your life if you talk I beg jus pray for me, dem want me dead Dem want blood. De blood of an inoncent man who never trouble anybody dem de make mockery of me now Dem de call me Modern day Jesus.... An by de Grace of de real Jesus Christ Each an every one of dem who hav made me suffa Will get dem just reward, I wait on the Lord He is a tru an just God and Him say Vengeance is mine...
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Feelings masked Under a boulder of Suppression Painted with smiles To hide the frustration that was Bubbling, bubbling Inside, never escaping Because it shouldn’t, right? Fatality: The consequence of a mistaken exposure of the Achilles’ heel, carefully veiled by socks or such something, Shrouded by indifference and a pretence of amnesia. And yet, yet sometimes, sometimes At the sight of the clear blue sky Where two dreams had once soared together; At the sound of the synced rhythm Of the bell-like laughter that still echoed In the present silence of an absence; At the memory of numbers, The date of union, The date of parting; At the smell of small things - Coffees and teas and wet earth and flowers The preferences of which had been tiffs Time and again, time and again In a distant past; At the taste of tears of another loved one, That seasoned the bitter sorrow of loss With tangy flavours That left not ever the tongue. Just sometimes, sometimes, Even at the gentle Trickling          of      rain That had once inspired a Melodious dance of a now-truant soulfulness Somewhere, something, sometimes Cracks. A hint of sheer pressed down sorrow Visible in the gradually extinguishing eye Heard in the reluctantly cracking voice As one breaks Shard by jagged shard Falling out of a patched up soul Like petals of a flower, counting: Missing him, missing him not… Missing him. And a now porous wall Leaves a gaping peephole to expose A separate world full of hidden memories, The reminder of which still always leads to such an Unprecedented Moment of weakness.
0
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 7:42 AM UTC
Moment of Weakness
Feelings masked Under a boulder of Suppression Painted with smiles To hide the frustration that was Bubbling, bubbling Inside, never escaping Because it shouldn’t, right? Fatality: The consequence of a mistaken exposure of the Achilles’ heel, carefully veiled by socks or such something, Shrouded by indifference and a pretence of amnesia. And yet, yet sometimes, sometimes At the sight of the clear blue sky Where two dreams had once soared together; At the sound of the synced rhythm Of the bell-like laughter that still echoed In the present silence of an absence; At the memory of numbers, The date of union, The date of parting; At the smell of small things - Coffees and teas and wet earth and flowers The preferences of which had been tiffs Time and again, time and again In a distant past; At the taste of tears of another loved one, That seasoned the bitter sorrow of loss With tangy flavours That left not ever the tongue. Just sometimes, sometimes, Even at the gentle Trickling          of      rain That had once inspired a Melodious dance of a now-truant soulfulness Somewhere, something, sometimes Cracks. A hint of sheer pressed down sorrow Visible in the gradually extinguishing eye Heard in the reluctantly cracking voice As one breaks Shard by jagged shard Falling out of a patched up soul Like petals of a flower, counting: Missing him, missing him not… Missing him. And a now porous wall Leaves a gaping peephole to expose A separate world full of hidden memories, The reminder of which still always leads to such an Unprecedented Moment of weakness.
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58
Candlelight illumes my dreary room Causing shadows to contort and sway; In my heart there stirs a deep unrest As the past flaunts its seductive play Merciful Absinthe! It's known to calm Tortured hearts by helping them forget; How the swirling liquids mesmerize . . . Tears and Absinthe make a strange duet But my reveries will not be scorned -- I must yield to their silent demand. And as the Green Fairy warms my throat, Memories unravel, strand by strand I recall the little tiffs we had, Sometimes ending in a full-blown row, But with each sip that moistens my lips, I swear, they seem so trivial now As I drain the glass, warm thoughts of you Fill my head, causing me to give pause: Why in Heaven's name did we part ways? Right now I can't justify the cause And I miss the good times that we shared, Not just romance, but the laughter, too; I thought Absinthe would help me forget, But tonight . . . tonight I'm missing you
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Apr 5, 2023
Apr 5, 2023 at 9:31 PM UTC
Absinthe Makes The Heart Grow Fonder
*I wrote my way out of the dark pages of my life. I know what it's like to see your life hanging by a thread; scraping your skin with your fingernails to stop yourself from crying; weaving scars on your skin to get some high out of life. Smiling on the outside, but tearing up on the inside. I've been there, disguising last rites as declarations of love; holding out for that one guy for some unjust reason. I was once told I was beautiful on the inside, I used to scoff at that thought. I couldn't be beautiful, my metaphorical skin was sewed and patched, ruined and defiled and there was nothing beautiful about that. It took me a while to see that beauty for myself. I was once that one girl sitting in corner at midnight contemplating suicide over family tiffs, unrequited love, loss, loneliness, and every other stuff that I couldn't deal with. I can't look at my left wrist without feeling some sort of disgust because of the tallies of pain I left behind. I had this habit of saying 'I'm always good' whenever asked but I got tired of seeing illusions as reality, I was tired of escaping my own life. I was not okay and I needed help. I wish somebody had told me this sooner: MELANCHOLY IS NOT TRENDY, DEPRESSION IS NOT COOL, CUTTING IS NOT A FASHION STATEMENT SADNESS IS NOT ATTRACTIVE It's actually sad that we, teenagers, advertise sadness as if it's something to be proud of.   YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL YOU DON'T NEED VALIDATION FROM PEOPLE DON'T LET HIM TELL YOU HE LIKES YOU BETTER WHEN YOU'RE BROKEN. NO, SCARS DO NOT MAKE YOU ATTRACTIVE SOME SCARS AREN'T WORTH HAVING CRAZY IS NOT **** **** IS NOT ALWAYS ****** SHEDDING A FEW KILOS WON'T MAKE HIM LIKE YOU ANY MORE THAN HE DOES UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIPS DON'T HEAL --words I wish I'd  heard sooner You are not broken beyond repair YOU ARE A PHOENIX, A PHOENIX MUST BURN TO EMERGE.*
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Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 8:14 PM UTC
For Every Broken Girl
*I wrote my way out of the dark pages of my life. I know what it's like to see your life hanging by a thread; scraping your skin with your fingernails to stop yourself from crying; weaving scars on your skin to get some high out of life. Smiling on the outside, but tearing up on the inside. I've been there, disguising last rites as declarations of love; holding out for that one guy for some unjust reason. I was once told I was beautiful on the inside, I used to scoff at that thought. I couldn't be beautiful, my metaphorical skin was sewed and patched, ruined and defiled and there was nothing beautiful about that. It took me a while to see that beauty for myself. I was once that one girl sitting in corner at midnight contemplating suicide over family tiffs, unrequited love, loss, loneliness, and every other stuff that I couldn't deal with. I can't look at my left wrist without feeling some sort of disgust because of the tallies of pain I left behind. I had this habit of saying 'I'm always good' whenever asked but I got tired of seeing illusions as reality, I was tired of escaping my own life. I was not okay and I needed help. I wish somebody had told me this sooner: MELANCHOLY IS NOT TRENDY, DEPRESSION IS NOT COOL, CUTTING IS NOT A FASHION STATEMENT SADNESS IS NOT ATTRACTIVE It's actually sad that we, teenagers, advertise sadness as if it's something to be proud of.   YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL YOU DON'T NEED VALIDATION FROM PEOPLE DON'T LET HIM TELL YOU HE LIKES YOU BETTER WHEN YOU'RE BROKEN. NO, SCARS DO NOT MAKE YOU ATTRACTIVE SOME SCARS AREN'T WORTH HAVING CRAZY IS NOT **** **** IS NOT ALWAYS ****** SHEDDING A FEW KILOS WON'T MAKE HIM LIKE YOU ANY MORE THAN HE DOES UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIPS DON'T HEAL --words I wish I'd  heard sooner You are not broken beyond repair YOU ARE A PHOENIX, A PHOENIX MUST BURN TO EMERGE.*
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her mother called her a textbook virgo, levelheaded, organized, practical and every spare moment she had was spent writing most of it was hopeful... possibilities outlined neatly on elite paper stock - serious poems to be submitted to editors, poems to celebrate special occasions, outlines of plots for short stories she planned to write her personal writings were deeper, sadder she wrote reams in a daily journal about troubled relationships, tiffs with her husband and kids, her competitive sister, each comment meticulously penned in an elegant flowing manner but that final note she left was the shocker, written in a freakishly jumpy, shaky hand, overly loopy, jagged, a note on cheesy motel stationery, filled with longing, with despair, words spewing out of her pen, out of control words scrawled far from home, the solitary writer engaged in an emotional seizure, facing her phantoms alone and losing
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Aug 29, 2015
Aug 29, 2015 at 3:47 PM UTC
cursive
I am unfazed by minor tiffs we have. Little do I get bothered by them, Over past few weeks we have argued, Very much with each other that too, Early on response better be calm. Yes, you love me unconditionally too, Over the problems of life we go, Under that milder sun we will fly. Promised me you have your hand, On my way towards you I have been, Of high faithfulness I am a strong box, Join you me, come and just marry me, Atul Kaushal awaits your arrival here.
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Dec 28, 2017
Dec 28, 2017 at 11:05 AM UTC
I Am Not Worried
We started childish, Became mature, Quarreled apish, Looked for a cure. Our relationship is, Yes flawed it is, Imperfect it is, But how sweet it is. We have had tiffs, You wept and, I hardly slept, But we solved if's. Our little world is, Free to fly it is, Not to cry it is, But we live as it is. Gusts of winds blow, Harsh & dry, We never cry, And we do not bow. It gave us a shove, Humble dove, Of purest love, We wore no glove. Our hands had met, We put a bet, In this game, Carrying full blame.
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Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 7:57 AM UTC
We Started Childish
Brings up the hole in my dreams, white dressed mannequin overlaid with sequins, her dress form baring my hide, skinny legs in skinny jeans, faced with her blue eyes.  This constant storm of thick regret, plays aching words through my stiffened threads. I am startled by the tinge of when he picks at my strings, his fingers cueing up my grief, I'm transfixed by such staunch memories. From this September thru December all that is anxious wrecks this time, blending stages of unconsciousness with the right to bide these rhythmic tidings outlined by the rigor of her whines. Bent by the rocking of the sea and the buried screams beneath, herein these mouths are tanned from where these voices once laid command. Subtly superior, yet haunting in its serenity and clause, the metal stretched across her jaw, and while the dove is drugged, she cannot bestow her love, she is betrayed thru the very lens that halted life's immenseness and intent. Draped in her hospital gown, even her crown forgone, her gurney replaced her throne, no more royalty will she ever know. Soma sudor, spit begrimed at ends, tiffs being had with friends, he takes away the organs, sends me back to consciousness with the bends. Every lock of hair I wanted, every piece of night I held, all my organs have been dismembered, all the luck I had is lost. In the corner of my iris there's a prime instance of despair, something left on a scrap of paper, though I could swear it looked like underwear. When the locusts fill this mind with every cadence indisposed, then they flourish on my body, leaving once they've eaten off my clothes.  Hours were my pajamas, where I slept once, now I lie. I'm the afterthought of courage, even in this heady nausea I once found sublime. Here this corpse doesn't leave a shadow, missing time where love bid supine. Even the wind it curdles in me, where no heart beats from this life. With a child inside this bullet, art existed on her face, twice it eradicated lying, but not the ****** debt betrayed. Simple sin on the interstices, connected by the dots where pleasure writhes. All my hands are covered by this fever, where my mind has gone to die.
0
Sep 15, 2017
Sep 15, 2017 at 8:18 PM UTC
The Chaperone
Brings up the hole in my dreams, white dressed mannequin overlaid with sequins, her dress form baring my hide, skinny legs in skinny jeans, faced with her blue eyes.  This constant storm of thick regret, plays aching words through my stiffened threads. I am startled by the tinge of when he picks at my strings, his fingers cueing up my grief, I'm transfixed by such staunch memories. From this September thru December all that is anxious wrecks this time, blending stages of unconsciousness with the right to bide these rhythmic tidings outlined by the rigor of her whines. Bent by the rocking of the sea and the buried screams beneath, herein these mouths are tanned from where these voices once laid command. Subtly superior, yet haunting in its serenity and clause, the metal stretched across her jaw, and while the dove is drugged, she cannot bestow her love, she is betrayed thru the very lens that halted life's immenseness and intent. Draped in her hospital gown, even her crown forgone, her gurney replaced her throne, no more royalty will she ever know. Soma sudor, spit begrimed at ends, tiffs being had with friends, he takes away the organs, sends me back to consciousness with the bends. Every lock of hair I wanted, every piece of night I held, all my organs have been dismembered, all the luck I had is lost. In the corner of my iris there's a prime instance of despair, something left on a scrap of paper, though I could swear it looked like underwear. When the locusts fill this mind with every cadence indisposed, then they flourish on my body, leaving once they've eaten off my clothes.  Hours were my pajamas, where I slept once, now I lie. I'm the afterthought of courage, even in this heady nausea I once found sublime. Here this corpse doesn't leave a shadow, missing time where love bid supine. Even the wind it curdles in me, where no heart beats from this life. With a child inside this bullet, art existed on her face, twice it eradicated lying, but not the ****** debt betrayed. Simple sin on the interstices, connected by the dots where pleasure writhes. All my hands are covered by this fever, where my mind has gone to die.
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sick f,lOu;rIshIng calamity by what abscess you **** hotly moisture 'pon the sticky damsel of life who art brevity greased or we argue (scrawny tiffs) with god (who smells like nothings yay though it be. still we are. if not only a morsel
0
Nov 16, 2010
Nov 16, 2010 at 10:35 AM UTC
Untitled
I've loved you since the very first day, even if I never did quite say "hey". I've loved you more than my past, and time with you has gone so fast. We've had our fights, and tiffs, its seemed at times like we're on the edge of a cliff. I've always loved you, like its all I ever could do, and strangely enough, for the first time, its all I want to so. What started as friendship, its grew into a relationship. What started as friendly love, grew into passionate love. I'm not ashamed to admit I love you, but my dear, If I ever lost you, I could very well live half a life, for without you I'd only have half a life. I've always loved you It's like its fact, in fact it is. Theres so much I want to do for you, but thats not for this.
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Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 7:30 AM UTC
This is for Her.
it would be better if i could smile/ if life wouldnt throw curb ***** at me constantly/ im not that old/ im not than young/ but i seem to be in a perpetual state of less fun/ i wish you were still here/ constantly laughing with me/ we had such fun/ didnt we ?/ i though we did the whole time/ though you proved me wrong and out of rhyme/ saying i couldnt be anything to you/ couldnt be more than nothing to you/ i couldnt understand your indecisive mind/ one moment i was perfect/and right in time/ then the next you didnt want to see my face for fear of the time/ oh dear pan, dear prophet, dear destiny dear fate...just leave me be for i feel im too late/ love will never find me now/ i will be a maid/ so now i take this vow at this drinking stage/ no more will i love any of human kind in the way that a man loves a woman with such time/ no more will i search/ no more will i hope to find/ ive given up/ given in/ leave it to father time/ im drunk/ im tired my heart aches with pain/ i cant take anymore/ ive got no more to give/ in hope and in faith i retire from all this/ no more lovers/ no more spring time tiffs/ there is no point to it all/ no worth at all/ i now have decided to stop/ this stupid odd thing called love
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Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 5:04 AM UTC
love
I held on through your jealousy and fear your deep insecurities and I held you near I survived the conversations about the terrible what if’s silly girls in beach jeans and all the fights and tiffs all I wanted was a piece of the movie star dream beauty and money like you only see on the screen I thought I could cheat the universe if I truly believed thought if I built us an island you’d never leave I sat with you and listened to the stories you’ve never told held your hand and said to go out and be bold I tried with all of the strength in this body to inspire you bragged about your glow and hoped you know I desire only you I can’t hand you happiness or I’d send it to your shore in bottles I can’t stop your pains or slow the hurt when you push the throttle there are no more ways for me to prove what I already have no ways for me to glue back together the two of us you’ve halved I can’t undrink the bottles or unyell the words or light the dim rooms there’s no way for me to bake the cake with a wax bride and groom now I’m slipping into the darkness where you tucked us away and I’ve run out of words to say because you’re about to throw us away I’m about to lose my love to the same person that said it would always stay I crumple and I tarnish because you’re about to throw us away
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Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 11:16 PM UTC
JOYLESS
I’m sorry were having a fight when things bother me I go quiet I build things up inside, they maybe small - but because there held in so long they sit and turn my insides into a festering pit the smallest slight can then become a raging tornado an uncontrollable reaction that doesn’t fit the supposed crime and - even though I know all this at the moment I’m still mad a major disagreement because of all the little tiffs we never had I think this kettle has had a good brewing in my intestinal wall it’s been stewing and now it’s come to the boil I’ll have to handle things better talk - about the niggling stuff or I’ll never handle a real patch of rough I’m writing instead of talking to you digging my heels in, not answering your call refusing to scale this wall this wall that I’ve built maybe if I give it a little tilt an inch more - I can’t scale it yet it’s looming to large on my horizon I’m not ready to tear it down yet I’m sorry *** I’m trying but - its taken years to build this wall and now its oh - so tall maybe it will mature and stoop fade into the background stop tying me in a loop But not today I’m sorry
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Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 9:44 AM UTC
The Wall
*it seemed she was warm and cuddly like a lovely song from deep inside she seemed to be other things besides and this made him tag along humbly like a lover sworn to love in eternity yet drowning in a flood of hollow tiffs that shred the serenity of a drowsy day on an evening when  all things were laid bare for all and sundry to witness cruel truths about what never was except in our fancy alone*
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Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 4:25 PM UTC
cruel truths
Only love is not enough for a lasting relationship, You need to let out a pinch of anger, A bagful of care, With a cup of sorrow and a drum of happiness, Sprinkles of tiffs, And most important is tons of trust and communication. 20/9/2024
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Sep 20, 2024
Sep 20, 2024 at 3:56 AM UTC
I Think
Eyes closed, a passing view, Sparks flickered and grew, A huge screen of thoughts, Cities of desires,mountains of fancies aloft, Sketches drawn, designs,nuances of the past, Reel by fast. I writhe, smile and sigh As a story forms,seen only by I, Loved ones already dead, With some, friendly tiffs  I had, Broken hopes,cast away wishes, Some people I know,love and laugh recedes, Bad omens, angels, fairies,slumber disturbed, Little misdemeanours, reminices uncurbed. I dream on,build castles of thoughts, Sometimes I no nought what about. And when I awaken, All of a sudden, I feel I have been possessed by a demon, But fresh from sleep in the morn, It's like I have returned from heaven.
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May 11, 2018
May 11, 2018 at 11:14 AM UTC
My Dreams
When duty called, I had to go, around the world to roam But part of me is miles from here because it stayed at home Where ere you be remember this, whenever you feel blue Although I may be out of sight, my heart remains with you With war my mind is busy, but my soul cannot forget So every day that I’m away the things I most regret Is how I can’t be close to you, where our vows we could renew And I could tell you heart to heart, I’m still in love with you I want to wake up near you and to feel your warming glow I miss the little tiffs we have, one says yes and one says no I like the odd occasion when I kiss you just by chance And the times that we meet eye to eye with a little sideways glance I want to sit beside you in the shade of some big trees The chance to whisper little things that really are a tease Or discuss our weekend options irrespective of the choice Just because it gives an extra chance to listen to your voice Instead I sit here by myself and I'm longing for the day That I can finish up this work and finally get away Returning to the partner and the love I know is mine Then I can hug you with my arms instead of in a rhyme
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Apr 16, 2021
Apr 16, 2021 at 12:17 PM UTC
When Duty Calls and I Depart
When can we joke about our anger And together lovingly remember The time you left home in a huff And were forced to return home with a laugh Limping and with a long walk’s sore leg too Because in anger you wore my oversized shoe! When can we joke about our bitterness And together lovingly remember The day I told you on your face And you left midway in your dinner Saying on the street you would rather roam Than ever having a meal at home! When can we joke about our past tiffs And together lovingly remember The times our anger scaled the cliffs And on our home hang a heavy weather Where you and I drifted apart like islands With tear laden hearts and desolate hands!
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Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 2:26 AM UTC
When Can We?
and i find your dreams are troubled again, our mother, our saviour, ave regina but you put on a composed smile, little darling, bright and clear, like skies in june, goddess of athena oh - i know, i know, you shed tears too, you found your hair is falling out! your limbs are limping, and you don't have any tickets to escape the town, to the motherland, or the seven seas, where you belong and look, now, we are fighting the same war this massive isolation, deafening silence, repugnant confusion see, where's your god now? you sighed to the heavens although you know it's wrong we are in the same isolation, i am with my quilt and quill and you are with the moon, your man of dreams, comfort of homes and the world is frail, darling, it's on fire and this is what i see: things diminishing, disheartening and despite the tiffs, despite the madness, i'll tell you this: you have all that i want. take it all, i said, risk it all and he did risk it all, and for you, it was never an afterthought, and that is something that i foresaw but i was never prepared for you have sadness as big as the world, sitting on your shoulders, and i have mine fits perfectly in my grasp, but i want yours i don't know everyone's battle zone, in my whole life i only know mine but what you have is something that was a part of mine, whose body and soul was pervading my body, who owns this poetry, fire of my frigid, frail soul and i want your sadness so big that it destroys me, and so we can always forget what we have in hands and i wish you well, i never wished you to know the feelings that need to be felt in order to write this
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Oct 6, 2020
Oct 6, 2020 at 11:36 AM UTC
i come to see if you write about moon
and i find your dreams are troubled again, our mother, our saviour, ave regina but you put on a composed smile, little darling, bright and clear, like skies in june, goddess of athena oh - i know, i know, you shed tears too, you found your hair is falling out! your limbs are limping, and you don't have any tickets to escape the town, to the motherland, or the seven seas, where you belong and look, now, we are fighting the same war this massive isolation, deafening silence, repugnant confusion see, where's your god now? you sighed to the heavens although you know it's wrong we are in the same isolation, i am with my quilt and quill and you are with the moon, your man of dreams, comfort of homes and the world is frail, darling, it's on fire and this is what i see: things diminishing, disheartening and despite the tiffs, despite the madness, i'll tell you this: you have all that i want. take it all, i said, risk it all and he did risk it all, and for you, it was never an afterthought, and that is something that i foresaw but i was never prepared for you have sadness as big as the world, sitting on your shoulders, and i have mine fits perfectly in my grasp, but i want yours i don't know everyone's battle zone, in my whole life i only know mine but what you have is something that was a part of mine, whose body and soul was pervading my body, who owns this poetry, fire of my frigid, frail soul and i want your sadness so big that it destroys me, and so we can always forget what we have in hands and i wish you well, i never wished you to know the feelings that need to be felt in order to write this
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