"topics" poems
You taught me how to be pro,
It's not like I was ever proficient,
Tibbers goes where he pleases.
But of course you knew that,
You've always been 100 percent-
Cheesey. And because of that,
You sound silly all the time.
Well, okay maybe that's a lie.
But you are a true goof ball.
And I know I'm a dork, but
You catch me when I fall.
And I love that about you.
Shh, that's supposed to be a secret.
Oh yeah, I mean.. it's not like I meant it.
We all know he's an idiot, right?
Wrong. But I won't keep going on.
What am I saying? My words are all over-
The place. Look me straight in the face.
I want you to know that I want to embrace-
You. But I'll give you your space, it's okay.
I don't need it.
My heart is
Complacent.
You are my-
Inspiration.
To land that stun.
You know I will.
We'll get the ****
Don't say you're done.
We got this Thunder Lord,
Now don't be blunt.
Tell me your opinons,
You know I want to hear em'
Whether it's about past topics,
Or about what I'm writing.
Tell me what you think about-
Anything, just don't get toxic.
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 2:22 PM UTC
The anonymous connection,
a sort of social disconnect.
A freedom of speech,
though not socially correct.
Able to find out
half the world across.
The broadest topics,
the tiniest loss
Images and moving pictures,
Different kinds of art.
Differing opinions,
pulling all apart
Learning all the facts,
the tiny and the small.
Putting it out there
visible to all.
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 7:22 PM UTC
When the topics of
*birth, birth control, ************ periods, moon-blood
or any other "issue" involving female bodies*
arrive in conversation,
men just need to shut the **** up*
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 12:45 PM UTC
People always seem to misunderstand me,
It's amazing how they can judge so quickly,
That's why I decided to always be the happy one,
The one to make jokes and everything seemed fun,
But what they don't know is that anxiety,
Floods through me.
How much I hold back from the things I really want
You see it's a cruel world out there
I learned how to people can stab you in the back and pretend to care,
How everything you do
is going to be judged by people who have no clue.
So I've learned to sugarcoat my opinions,
Hide behind a lie: a smile
Be the nice one in every situation
Someone who would go that extra mile
Still it wasn't enough,
In the end I was still misunderstood.
Even if my intentions were good
it still got twisted to some bad stuff.
So I just hold myself back
trying to save myself from all the heartache,
Avoiding the trouble my emotions would make
Sugar coating my opinions
In serious situations
Just drowning myself lyrics
Avoiding all the tricky topics
Yet once again they misunderstand me,
They come up with this version of my life story,
they'd assume I'm always lonely,
And honestly it makes me angry,
Because they don't even know me.
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 8:52 PM UTC
We're ladies who lunch, we have a good time
We appreciate art, we sip fine wine
Watching our weight so no more than a nibble
But believe you me - we're fond of a giggle :)
We're ladies who lunch, we thrive on variety
We run the local history society
We move some chairs around in the hall
And invite a nice man to talk to us all
We're ladies who lunch, we support one another
Devouring books from cover to cover
We always discuss the topics we've read
Our husbands are hard at work or dead
We're ladies who lunch, we're busy but free
No one does luncheon better than we
Society's backbone, we stick together
And fully intend to go on for ever
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 12:57 PM UTC
Korean fashion experts have shared their know-how with Malaysia.
At the "K-Fashion Conference for Malaysia" in Kuala Lumpur on Feb. 16, a group of Korean professionals gave lectures under the topics "K-Fashion Design Trend Transition & Forecast," "Digital & Online Marketing Strategies," "Power Brand and Concept Development Strategies" and "How to enter the global market."
The Korea Fashion Association, the Malaysia External Trade Development Corporation (MATRADE) and the ASEAN-Korea Centre organized the event to strengthen the competitiveness of Malaysian fashion brands by improving the added value of the industry through brand development.
About 50 Malaysian fashion industry companies and related government officials attended.
"There is growing interest in K-fashion, along with the high popularity of Korean dramas and entertainment shows, making this workshop even more timely and meaningful," ASEAN-Korea Centre Secretary General Kim Young-sun said. "The Malaysian fashion industry has huge potential as it is currently ranked in the top five in the ASEAN fashion industry."
On Feb. 15 and 17, Korean experts visited local fashion merchandisers for market research and consultations.
According to the ASEAN-Korea Centre, the Malaysian fashion industry has had massive growth with the expansion of Islamic fashion markets.
MATRADE aims to boost the industry as the nation's leading exporter. It has been organizing Malaysia Fashion Week (MFW) since 2014 to make the capital a fashion destination in Asia.
The second MFW in 2015 featured designers from more than 15 countries, and over 300 booths showcased the quality products of Malaysian fashion brands to the domestic and foreign trade, accodring to the organization.
The ASEAN-Korea Centre is an intergovernmental organization established in 2009 with an aim to promote exchanges among Korea and the 10 ASEAN member states.Read more at:www.marieaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 4:12 AM UTC
WHAT does the hangman think about
When he goes home at night from work?
When he sits down with his wife and
Children for a cup of coffee and a
Plate of ham and eggs, do they ask
Him if it was a good day's work
And everything went well or do they
Stay off some topics and talk about
The weather, base ball, politics
And the comic strips in the papers
And the movies? Do they look at his
Hands when he reaches for the coffee
Or the ham and eggs? If the little
Ones say, Daddy, play horse, here's
A rope-does he answer like a joke:
I seen enough rope for today?
Or does his face light up like a
Bonfire of joy and does he say:
It's a good and dandy world we live
In. And if a white face moon looks
In through a window where a baby girl
Sleeps and the moon gleams mix with
Baby ears and baby hair-the hangman-
How does he act then? It must be easy
For him. Anything is easy for a hangman,
I guess.
5.7k
Preface
**When the broad mind has opened, to gaze the stars that shinning in the unfathomable skies and the glittering Nature, its flowers’ fragrances given to taste the wealthy realms of her, as well as Earth's mysteries—that I ever think of to feel and by my thoughts that spread so deep to try to work with things that sounds of ‛creative’. Here I the ‛moody soul’ started his first journey, leaving his home a few years ago and his up-start was through Literature, Science and Arts and Fiction. Writings and paintings here I believed to be most powerful and that those more often need to convey by the Artist’s conscience and the intensity that gains moral knowledge and appreciation. Here the book has the pictorial paths of Quest and the wanderings, all by imagination’s boat, sails from the western Ideas and its enthusiastic flow. Some finds hope along and also hopelessness, God and Love vagabonding among these ink-stained pages.
Dreamt in the wandering world where no chains shall bind, from the dark veiled lands to the daring spark, no atoms that obscure the force calling light, to aim the glad precious moments of life, to embrace me with a silence and its whispering magic, where gate of hope’s always open to bliss, thundering words are always from roam, the nocturnal pleasure that I only know, and when all will run away as time—why I alone in the upward steps of solitude that caressing wild only wings?
If I met Life as a strange stage of different senses—and I only say you to enjoy the aggressive fruits of my invention. Here it is for all of you can read and evaluate.**
Nithin Purple
Acknowledgement
**This book is dedicated to my parents of Love and support,
from where I got the powers to be inspired—to write and prove.
Special Thanks to Parisian Author and poet Roman Payne of
‛cultural book’ for supporting me as a writer of varying tastes. Also Writer, Wilson B Sanchez of New York, who first gave suggestions
and his valuable sparkling comments of self-improvable topics, which I always bother. Belated friend, poet and writer, Curtis Plaskon from France for his valuable support. Also Poet Timothy & Hilda from Virginia, to them I had good writing memories. And for all the Indians, this book is an open heart to read.**
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 3:06 AM UTC
I like how our conversations bounce back and forth to all types of topics.. one minute I'm thinking man oh man it's hot, she's exotic looking like the tropics.
You're definitely in my optics, visualizing the prize. But let's make it clear I'm not all about your curves I wanna connect our third eyes..
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 1:03 PM UTC
Sitting here trying to make small talk, I'm going insane, we're all insane.
Broken topics over chips and salsa, god its so bizarre, I don't understand how "normal" we all are.
I keep my mouth semi-full so I'm unable to speak, I can't stand myself, **** why am I so weak?
Why does this bother me so? It's like no one even knows,
the truth,
be told it's a mess, I can't stand too much more of this, someone relieve me from this **** before it makes me sick..
All the underlying problems...drink to numb the pain but those same drinks taketh life away.
And I don't mean with death, for life still moves on, but it's broken into pieces and it's better off gone.
Cause one needs it to stay strong and the other knows that lifestyle is wrong:
Substances don't bring you happiness, they don't fix your pain, they ruin relationships and families all the same.
But we sat and we talked, topics in no particular range, and what hurts is seeing how things both have and haven't changed.
The connection is there, but the love has departed; neither hope nor intention to go back and restart it.
And now we're driving away and nothing is said, no mention of the insanity that hides in my head,
No acknowledgement to the tears I watch my own mom fight back..similar to the sick truth the whole situation lacked.
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 11:56 PM UTC
Forbidden plant
Mixes with fire,
Inhaled deep,
Held within
Until it burns;
Cough it hard,
Raise the chin,
Sit up straight,
All change color
Of pinks and purples,
Yellows and greens;
Sights beyond
Fade to black:
Amateur cinematics.
Stumbling feet
Throws car keys
To the conscious smile,
Who drives at 55 mph
When the dash reads 15.
Sit and rest,
Gather those thoughts;
Pessimistics argue
Mundane topics,
As the mind wanders
Through dark skies,
Picking and pondering
The out of reach stars
Before awaking
With sleepy regret.
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 12:58 AM UTC
*The desperate pounding
on the wall can be heard*
"Love Love Love"
I can't believe you're so shallow.
You refuse. You die.
You vanish like a burning hay,
right here, on the blackened way.
Candy peaks, monotonous points in the sea
Let me descend
Open you a bit
River,
Sun,
foamy stream,
You drown,
Love, dream, dream!
TV screens
Times square
Light-ants
Electric signals through wires
deep dark night flooding rush
Volcano erupting
Surface! Screammm!
Neons
Alcohol on glass
Old charwoman rubs it
with rag
Hands shake you
in the foamy stream
Ha!
Who was right?
The night staggers you
with thousand stars
Wolves howling
Moon
Mushrooms
Dew & violet & knights
& Mysteries
Welcome to the old days
Tomorrow you will be introduced
to the wise King of England
A rocker picks up stuff
and scatters the TV screen
bottles of liqour are smashed
in his house
Glass scattered, guitars wrecked - he's crazy,
pulling out hair, gnashing teeth
-You all killed him
and You are not even aware
Meanwhile a man strolls the woods
searches for mushrooms
on sunny autumn day
he smells moss, bark and undergrowth
He's contemplating the topics of
childhood & ******
Red lipstick smears all over her lips
She's the animal queen
All belongs to her
Thanks to her claws,
cat-moan, and the
short living
aggressive cinder
she owns.
Leather jacket be her weapon,
Night be her moment.
I am the Eye,
and what I see
is a child picking yellow petals
of sow-thistle
kneeling in the sun
in his timeless summer.
Who would know,
that this chapter
would be closed
one day
and the brown leather book
would become dusty
someday
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 6:10 PM UTC
We use video games
To make video gains
Until the screen goes black
And reality attacks
We lose all our progress
In the deletion process
As we level up we devolve
Around the TV we revolve
The more experience we gain
The more moments we lose
Our memories forever stained
When this is what we choose
Our life inside a hard drive
Our life becomes a hard lie
We revel in being unwise
Rage quitting life
We enjoy strife
And avoid pesky light
When we live in the dark
With consumerist plights
We are all marks
Video games balance in a zone
Between game and art
The frustration starts
When art is confused for games
And games mistook for art
People take things to heart
And spitefully spew viper venom
If this is where games send them
Then why do we play?
We have no other way
To feel accomplishment
In a society that worships competition
Video games become the second edition
Of a life filled with loss
On our pixelated cross
We are murdered millions of times
Reminiscent of the millions of lies
That make us losers in the real world
Video games become our shiny pearl
The computer displays defeat
When our lives aren't complete
Because we need someone to beat
Not realizing our lives are conquered
By frivolous topics we've pondered
Our meaningless life squandered
And hope comes in the form of new releases
While inside our faulty headset is in pieces
Sep 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017 at 3:13 AM UTC
60 sunshines, 59 nightfalls till I face the day
40 topics held in to regurgitate,
**** and span for the marker man to give a brother a break.
Wait, I ain't done
Got anxiety about two more chores in head
Not to ***** and moan but *******
Getting tired of this ****
What's the point to push if you don't know where to go
Blindful blissful ignorance?
They say, and you go.
What subject?
What ever is most respected.
What job?
What ever brings financial comfort.
What about this?
Nah, you ain't good at that.
And so you sulk ever so distracted
Hearing the drip drop taps, splat on to the sink.
The metallic ting of the radiator reverberates as dormant inner silence sings.
Forever more.
A didactic sore for the ears,
Apologies in advance,
Though regardless you must hear it.
Never run to please others
Rather, focus and listen to the deep.
Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 3:15 PM UTC
There are periods that need to be put at the end of sentences that started with a thought, rambled onto paragraphs that branched into multiple ambitious topics that was then left hanging in jumbled confusion half-way through time. In the endless strings of unecessary conjunctions, painful careless adjectives, and inappropriate prepositions, a simple period, used at the end of a completed, sensible sentence, one in which you put an effort to complete, regardless of the distracting pauses of time...a perfect period like that could go a long, long way. It ends THAT sentence so that another, more mature, wiser, more sensible one that could bring forth beautiful thoughts in endless paragraphs, could then begin.
Such is the language of life.
Such is the power of a period.
It is called closure.
Sometimes, we should use more periods in our lives,
to make our sentences clear.
Yes.
Period.
Dec 23, 2009
Dec 23, 2009 at 6:56 PM UTC
Prepubescent voices
crawl back and forth
A squeaking, scratching chorus of topics
unbeknownst to the speaker
Meaningless sounds produced just to be heard
Drowned out by the unfortunately undeafening silence
of headphones plugged into nothing
Misdirected words, hidden insults, skewed meanings
Subtle bullying pretends to be older and wiser
when it is terrified of new things
Gay, **** emo, **** laughter
Because the body is hilarious
Crowded faces: authority is buried under the splotchy noise
Enter swear here _ _ _ _ _ _ _.
Because ****** is an address
And “You have no friends” is just kidding
“Go **** yourself” is love
Outward rudeness to the man who puts himself though it daily
An example for the even less learned
7-year-old cursing
Because ******* means nothing to them
or anyone else.
Sit down because there are seats
Look in my eyes, taken back immediately
stupidity realized in a golden split second of mortification
Split second passes now with more phantom confidence
One by one skip, saunter, slither down three steps
Yellow noise recedes not fast enough
Obnoxious created by too much television
And its weird to be gay, and gay to be weird
Unacceptable open windows to normality
Jack my swag
Kindly,
Will you please shut the f* * * up.
Sep 24, 2012
Sep 24, 2012 at 10:10 PM UTC
This is how it will go.
I’m just going to roll with life throws my way,
Pain or happiness,
Moments of euphoria or depression
This relationship has been the best ever.
But like every human being,
I have my fears,
My anxieties.
I won’t worry about you hurting me,
Running away,
Or finding someone better.
I’ll focus on the good times,
The ones we create.
Regardless if we keep creating more,
Or if unfortunately you leave me with the moments we created.
Just know.
Whatever it is you do with your life my love.
Leaving me,
Or staying with me.
Hurting me,
Or loving me.
I will never ever stop loving you.
I don’t need mutual affirmation for that.
I’m always wondering for a place called home,
I think I found it.
My poem is going through different topics now.
Jaiden.
Just know.
Wherever you go.
Whatever you do to me.
Whoever you choose to marry.
I will always love you.
Cheat.
Lie.
Hurt.
Do whatever you want to me.
I’ll show you I can bend without breaking.
I will always love you.
Forever and always.
I promised that when I first said that.
Sep 12, 2019
Sep 12, 2019 at 5:01 AM UTC
So many chiefers and not enough Indians
There Yosef go with that ******** again fools can't comprehend
Cuz them weeds they choppin' put all thoughts to end
So come again like ya repeating the same thang
Ghetto Twain rhymes like boomerang leavin' welts on the back of the membrane
My topics ain't meant for population
So if you don't like change the **** station
So fools keep on puffin' and I'm.keep on stuffin'
My minds with nothing knowledge I learned nothing college
But to party and ******** shut and take a hit
Let the dogia explore your deepest mind terrains
Got ya hooked like a crane invoking much pain
Time is suffering people offering up sacrifices
And claiming they just being nice for the right price
They'll sell out they soul for few ounces of gold
So you see what's happening blasting like rocket
Coming for pockets of fake prophets once I'm set I'm a raging bull so ain't no stopppin' it
Then next thing ya know I stare at the floor and the window
My third eyes enlighten
Thinking to myself I gotta go
but I got buzz contact off that fake indo...
Shaking my head looking at these young studs
Laughing at em smokin'them fake budds
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 4:41 PM UTC
"she's a simple girl"
they say about me
judging me upon
my plain clothes,
and even plainer face
"she's a simple girl"
they say about me
judging me upon
my lack of words
regarding frivolous topics
hair, make-up,
who's dating who
"she's a simple girl"
they say about me
judging me upon
the fact that i'd rather stay in
with a book curled up in bed
as opposed to a wild night out
downing glasses of God knows what
but would they invest the effort
and just a little bit of their time
to try and understand
the complexities of my mind
*the ideas
the perspectives,
the roads less traveled*
would they ask me what i am passionate about
they would receive not a few words
but uncountable volumes full of my greatest dreams
and most sacred desires
ask me what i love and i will tell you
about how deeply i care for the concept of community
humanitarianism, how my biggest dream
is to bring people together
if they saw the thoughts which keep me up all night
*how was i created? why was i created?
why me? why not?
my purpose and philosophy of life?
to be, or not to be?
who? what? where? why?*
if only they tried to look beyond the surface
and dive in deep
they would realize that i am no shallow pond
but a raging deep ocean
full of emotion and thought
belief, and purpose.
i am a simple girl when it comes to matters of materialism
i am a simple girl when it comes to speaking my mind
i am a simple girl when it comes to my lack of interest in manipulation, mind-games and gossip
i am a simple girl
until you stop judging me for what you see
&
begin understanding me for who i am
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 1:27 PM UTC
I've been thinking and reading a lot recently
People who claim to be enlighten
Are not really enlighten because
Enlightenment is about being one with everything
Enlightenment is seen as knowledge & awareness
I guess the “spiritual people” lack an understanding
Of duality
That life is based on good & bad
Enlightenment and being one with everything is accepting
Both the horrors & wonders of Life
Thus creating balance, which is now “being one with everything”
Instead of waving sacred geometry as the all knowing thing
Or bragging about, “I know the Fibonacci sequence & the golden ratio”
Don’t get me wrong! I enjoy reading about spirituality, sacred geometry, and other marvelous topics
Nor am I bashing people’s beliefs
I just see people misinterpreting the message
A great and funny example that had me thinking was what Palpatine/ Darth Sidious from Star Wars Episode III revenge of the Sith said.
“Anakin, if one is to understand “the great mystery” one must study all its aspects, not just the dogmatic narrow view of the Jedi. If you wish to become a complete and wise leader, you must embrace a larger view of the force.”
That principle revolves around the same idea as being enlighten & being one with everything
If someone was to become “enlighten” he or she has to face the trials of learning to love and also embracing that there is a horror that lurks around us that we are oblivious to see.
I think once someone see’s both sides of the picture is when someone becomes “enlighten”
Because they understand how both sides work
Enlighten --> duality --> balance
This is how I just view the topic of enlightenment
You don’t have to believe what I wrote
I could be wrong
This was merely me ranting and expressing what I feel lol
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 12:04 PM UTC
Cocky?
I beg to differ
There is someone out there
that is much better than me
So I don't believe, for one second
that i'm...
Conceded.
A word applied
To the beautiful people without
beautiful minds, embraced
by the ones less intellectually fecund
than they are...
Brazen.
Polished? I am.
Your feelings? Your worries?
******* I disregard not with brashness
But with angelic cause as my own problems
are significantly more...
Tectonic.
Shifting focus from
your meager existence
as my shear presence fills this page
Outraged? You created these proems
when daily topics I...
Eclipsed.
Full moon rising.
The lighthouse to your sinking vessel
I am not the best, but I am the best of
the better of you and your kind, lower-class
no offense, I speak...
Truth.
And the pain it brings
I don't worry about such things
I don't discount, but I do surpass
Their muggle mind with poise and sass
Dare I say I'm not cocky, just...
Confidently better than you.
Mar 24, 2011
Mar 24, 2011 at 12:29 PM UTC
What do you like about her?
For some reason, I could not decide what to say. When someone asks what I like about her, my mind goes racing so fast that I get caught up in my words.
She's the type of girl who would force the secret out of you if you refuse to tell it to her.
She's the type of girl who doesn't care about what other people think, she lives her life without anyone dictating it for her.
And her curves. God, if I could, I'd trace her curves all day.
She's the type of girl who gets jealous, even with the littlest of things. I thought at first it was normal to get jealous, but this is different. She'd get jealous not because you're breathing the same air as the other girl, but she'd get jealous because she's territorial-- she wants you all to herself.
She's the type of girl who never stops talking. If talking were a sport, she'd be an olympic medalist! But no matter how far off her topics would be, you'd never get tired of her, ever. You'd probably even drift away, lost in her eyes, and she'd have to snap her fingers in front of you to come back to your senses.
She's just mesmerizing, like you would probably touch her arm just to make sure that she's real. She's the full moon on a starry night; God, how could such an amazing person exist?
I'll admit, she's not perfect. Perfection is overrated. She has flaws, and that's why I fell in love with her in the first place. I fell in love with her flaws.
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 9:14 PM UTC
our typed up words hide emotions unseen
where sound can give a taste of truth
and even postcards can reveal
the tangles of the century and it's related loves
of technology's soft whispers
of clicking keys and computer buzz
in those ones and zeros that hold us close to heart
the miles are still real, seemingly we'll part
another buzz another ring another taste of you
but can these magical machines bring
me more than just the best of you
I want to hear the stutter when you're nervous and can't speak,
the whisper's of the secrets of what we'll do next week,
I want to see your hair disheveled when you get up out of bed
the slight portliness of figure like the bearded fella wearing a suit of red
I want to taste the treats of the dishes that I've seen
and of course
I want to taste your lips
carrying the flavors of cigar and wine
See the the glimmer in your eye
When some little excitement passes by
And hear loquacious diatribes as to gladly chime on in
starting from your normal dinner topics to our lives of sin
But all those ones and zero... and our miles still remain
hopes of this togetherness from which my brain
can not refrain
Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 1:07 PM UTC
My neighbour
Is very courteous
We oft connverse
On local topics
Sometimes coffee or tea
Creates laughter
At his marvel home
And sweet words
Flow on his lips
Once in june's rough weather
Marriage of Miss. P
The daughter of Mr. A
Was at a banquet hall
For us no card
My son entered the hall
In no time he was kicked out
For there was a tattoo
Pasted naturally on his face
He returned humiliated
And innocence lost
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 12:43 PM UTC