"tougher" poems
This letter is truly and doubtlessly a letter to the only person who will be left when everyone else is gone. To the woman of my life. To my love, my life, my everything. To me.
Dear me,
You, the way you are, are perfect. You, with your little struggles you bear, with all the strength you carry so desperately around, finding a way to use it in your everyday life. You, with all your words stuck in your throat that you are so scared to say out loud – so you write them down.
You, with your smart-ass-mouth trying to make this world a better place. You, who has already realized that you must better yourself first to better others. You are all through perfect in your own way.
And yes, times were tough back then, but you were tougher. You mastered to overcome your biggest fear – the fear to stand for what you want and to love yourself entirely.
And even though, your selflove has improved so much over these past few years, you must learn a lot, you will have to endure a lot of pain and gain a lot of strength.
Selflove is a lifetime process.
My wonderful, beautiful love,
You carry mountains on your back and universes in your mind.
And every single day you wake up you are a better version of yourself.
Whatever you wish to do – do so! This is your life and you have to hold the upper hand in it. You have to be your own master.
Yes, let life be taught by others. Watch them live, but never become someone else while observing.
God did his best in making you special and unique – do not destroy his work of art in imitating.
Learn.
Observe.
Master.
Once you can rely on yourself, you are ready to change the world.
The world is waiting for you to make it the place it deserves to be.
A good place, a place with no fear, with no terror.
A place people can feel secure and loved.
Make this not only a vision but the reality.
Do your best and whatever you have reached at the end of the day – you DID your best.
You were great, and you could not have done any better.
I am proud of you.
And I love you.
To the dearest, most beautiful person on this planet, me.
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 2:15 PM UTC
It's so much easier to make the same mistakes
to wage a war upon myself
It's so much simpler to smile in your face
to wish that I were someone else
I'm so **** hurtful
but only to my own skin
I'm worth so much more
but I'll still draw blood again
And when will I let myself go
And when will I push far
And when will It be to late
And when will I stop opening the same scars
It's barely past midnight
Red is all I see
A innocent boy who's shattered
A beautiful catastrophe
But who will help him now
Cause he's still making the same mistakes
But who will fight for his life
When he feels he's nothing but a waste
And when does this war end
Cause I still crave razors against my skin
When I look into the mirror
It's still a reflection I can't withstand
Back at war again
Under your sleeve is the battlefield
A million casualties
Tallied are battles that have healed
Be a warrior
Scar tissue is tougher than regular skin
Be a warrior
Find your strength from within
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 12:36 AM UTC
Be brave enough
to catch
your dreams.
Even when everybody is
Bringing you down.
Giving up is the easy way out.
But you are tougher.
Jealously is
powerful, it's wrong.
But some people
just want to
see you suffer.
Just keep on smiling and carry on :)
Akaash.Horizon
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 7:40 AM UTC
I kissed you first at seventeen
and we continued to kiss for weeks,
even though your kisses always hurt.
I'm immune to you now
You were the only constant in my life,
When everyone else left me, you'd appear
to take me into the folds of your arms,
To make me believe you were the only thing keeping me alive
But your plan was to **** me all along
I had jealous lovers,
Who were harder, tougher and
who copulated with many in Vesey Park
They tried in vain to tempt me
But you were all I needed
I craved you always,
Saw you first every Saturday night
Then drowned myself to keep you
On those days when the rain never stopped
You were always there for me
Always always there
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 4:09 PM UTC
The farmers are doing it tough
Tough, it is hard to understand
Why they give money to the farmers and when it comes to helping the homeless they don’t give a ****
You see people give all the money to protect the farmers
And they don’t want to help the homeless
The homeless need more money
They are sleeping rough rain hail or shine and if we don’t get rain the farmers want to be helped, mind you the food comes from there and you know what Australians think of Aussie grown and we must sort of think of that but the homeless are swept under the rug by Australians when they ask for a few simple dollars and they get nothing, and you never see a telethon on television for them
But you see the formers get the nod, well I suppose farmers are having a tough time but they have a home at night to go to
While the homeless have nothing
Sorry, I feel strongly about helping homeless people through tough times and I am just saying my piece
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 8:41 PM UTC
My mind is constantly occupied by the demons of my past and the omens of my future.
Waging an impossible war, causing sickness, and torturing my conscience without remorse.
I can hear the screaming of the casualties as I take one more sip, hit, or push.
Begging for me to stop, but at the same time thanking me for the temporary numbness
I can feel my heart exploding in my chest,
as if it were trying to free itself from the slavery it is experiencing.
Beat after beat it continues to grow weary and unsympathetic,
Trudging through the chemicals and unrelentless lovers.
all the while receiving no attention or appreciation.
I can feel my soul, beautiful and full of life.
As old as they come, with more stories than I would probably care to hear.
Wise and wounded, healed and broken again.
Becoming tougher and more layered
much like the act of crafting an authentic samurai sword.
Swift and elegant. Waiting to escape this imperfect body
only to move onto another puppet of which it will guide and personalize.
The beauty of these three broken and bruised vigilantes working in total harmony is the most beautiful and awe-inspiring thing I have ever come to know.
I am greatful until the end, whenever that may be.
I will enjoy the life that they have given me,
and I will spread that energy to those in need of it.
As ***** and tired as they may be,
it is more than most will ever have the opportunity to experience
Nov 14, 2012
Nov 14, 2012 at 2:56 PM UTC
*
The poor get poorer,
The rich get richer.
In some cases it’s a debate
harsh situations Fluctuate
When money speaks, power escalates.
Sometimes…
The poor gets tougher,
The rich gets fragile against danger.
Often times…
Harsh situations make us stronger,
Easy life makes us weaker.
*
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 12:46 AM UTC
When life throws you difficult decisions,
Of which you feel you can’t make.
It’s best to go with your heart,
Its decisions you should always take.
It’s your heart that shows the true feeling,
Of which you cannot just hide.
Know that you made the right decision,
Show it and walk tall with pride.
The chance may not come again,
And the options may not be the same.
You don’t want to live with regrets,
And only yourself for to blame.
If it’s truly the person you love,
It doesn’t matter what gets in your way.
Ye will cross all the hurdles together,
And take them in stride day by day.
It’s not about foreseeing the future,
Or looking to the wrong in the past.
It’s about a true life of happiness,
And making it work for to last.
Don’t always live a life full of caution,
Or stopping to analyse all.
If the challenge is a little bit tougher,
Together ye are not going to fall.
Go out and live life to the full,
It’s only the one we are given.
And if we sometimes don’t get it right,
It’s nothing that can’t be forgiven.
So go with the flow for the moment,
And work through things one by one.
It’s not about being so serious,
Just enjoy it and always have fun.
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 7:01 PM UTC
We women fold linen
some believe we live solely in the kitchen
we are a force of nature,
we nurture children, we are driven,
we kiss things better, we matter.
We women hold opinions
we women mould opinions,
where else but in the kitchen,
nurturing, washing, listening,
dishing wisdom with love.
We women are cloaked
in many roles,
politician, clinician,
villain, lover, mother, cook
smothering all under our cloak.
We women suffer more
due to our nature, we're also tougher
than a right hook!
Duck next time women are driven
to anger.
We women are the ignition
of life, love and understanding
we go by many names,
Mother, sister, aunt, wife and nan.
Our own name lost to time.
Would I want to be a man?
No.
We women are fruition,
we are magicians,
we are are giants in our own right.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 1:38 PM UTC
Broken crayons still color the same.
I mean- isn't that really the aim?
Finish coloring the big picture-
our life picture.
We're all crayons,
or markers, paint perhaps.
Everyone's a little bent,
cracked. Snapped,
in some way shape form.
It's really kinda the norm
nowadays.
But in a box full of crayons-
when they are used, when they live-
they snap. They crack.
They break.
But they still work, just the same.
It may be a bit tougher for them-
but they're tougher from it.
We're tougher from it.
We're all broken crayons
filling in our own life line.
But broken crayons still color fine.
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 12:19 AM UTC
Yesterday was tough
Tougher than before
It broke me down inside
Left me crumbled on the floor
But then I remembered
the semicolon
Today was hard
Harder than before
It killed my soul a little
Left me bleeding on the floor
But then I remembered
the semicolon
A small mark
Seems insignificant
But when examined further
Becomes magnificent
An authors way
Of saying *hold on
don't give up just yet
there is plenty more to come*
Tomorrow will be painful
More painful than before
It will break me down
Leave me broken on the floor
But I will remember
Forever more
That small, simple mark
Giving out hope for all
the semicolon
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 5:50 AM UTC
Bonds were formed within each heart
Made silent vows to never part,
Where ever on this earth we go
Within ourselves we'll always know
That friendship is a timeless thing,
It travels far and deep within
When distance grows of course we're sad
We can't reach out and hold your hand,
For what we share is far more deep
We'll meet again within our sleep.
You see, when bonds like ours were formed
The strongest friendship was then born,
The focal point we know we share
That's way up high and always there,
To guide us and to comfort through
The tougher times - our precious moon.
Just look at it and you might see
Your witches flying high and free...
No distance, time or age will stop
Our love for you, not on our watch.
© Karen L Hamilton, 2014
Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 4:29 PM UTC
Here I am sitting on a park bench
thinking about you
Yes, I miss you wildly
No, I will not crawl back
Being without you has made me tougher
I no longer rely on you and your quick, witty humor to get me through the day
So, as the sun falls,
and a new day begins,
I don't need you
The world is calling my name
for better things
that you may not be a part of
But, then again,
I wouldn't mind if you came along
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 6:48 PM UTC
Shouldn't one be punished enough by living through the dead?
Shouldn't one be punished enough by never again sleeping in their own bed
One should be punished, not freed
Shouldn't one be punished already by inhaling the jail air and exhaling their sins?
Shouldn't one be punished already by taking away everything they need?
One should be punished not freed
And shouldn't they suffer from what they've done?
Shouldn't they live every day wishing they had somewhere to run?
One should be punished not freed
But killing the monster is quick
You see, the things the monster did were sick
But the monster only did what you're doing
It's different the monster killed for that and this,
We're killing for our justice
Justice means to have peace, and genuine respect for people not death because it's easy
But an innocent man was killed on the street because someone was too drugged he didn't even know the difference from grass and concrete
So lock him up and leave him to suffer
Show him pain and teach him to be tougher
Let him think in silence, let it hit him at once,
let the pain that he caused affect who he was
Why give him the chance to change what he's done?
Why give someone who's gone mad only a hit and run?
Because everyone deserves a chance to change
We're the monster's by killing the mistakes that make them strange
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 2:07 PM UTC
Her bare feet were tougher than her soul
They ran through the woods all day
Snapping twigs, relentlessly killing the life below.
Little bare feet that raced each other through these halls
She grew older and she grew wiser
Gaining strength from every fall.
Little girl, now not so little
Chasing new little feet
Through the house and out the door
Adapting to this new wild beat.
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 1:43 AM UTC
Aren't books just fun to read ?
To find out " Where does this story lead?"
They are nice to read in bed, let you quickly fall asleep
And then you can enjoy slumbering very deep
Unless you read something which messes with your mind
Then you probably stay up through the night and weep
Just try not to make it bind (you)
Books are an adventure for your brain
Can distract you from all that aweful rain
So read more its good for you
Maybe they even help you though (tougher times)
So please my dear give it a go
With the right genre you'll like it, I know
We can do it together,
Cuddling forever,
Under the beautiful light of the moon
Until the night finds its end soon
~ Umi
Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 2:10 PM UTC
He showed promise
That's what they said
Never knocked out
Next in line for the big seat
He could take a hit and hit right back
Then the Depression hit hard
The money, the promise, gone in an instant
Injury after injury, loss after loss
He was beat up and beaten down
No more boxing
Third night in a row without dinner
Bills stacked up on the counter
Out of money, out of credit, out of milk
Power's shut off, kids are cold
Wife is tired and so is he
Working at the docks with a broken hand
When he's lucky
He comes home from a thankless day
Children gone, wife in tears
We couldn't keep them warm, she says
They were getting sick, so I sent them away
We couldn't even feed them, Jimmy
She cries and he can't handle it
So he leaves
He goes to an office, fills out a form, waits in line
A woman hands him money, but he can't look for the shame
He takes it anyway
He goes to his friends, his old bosses
Please, I just want my children back, he begs
He sacrifices all self respect, all dignity
What makes him a man, gone, for his children
They throw him some spare change
A true friend makes up the difference
His family back together, there is happiness
But, dear God, will he ever make it out of this hole
They come to him with a fight
A glimmer of hope: money
He fights, he wins, but he doesn't dream
At least he doesn't say
He says it was just one fight
But they come again with another matchup
He wins again
And he doesn't stop winning
Until one day he's in that same spot
His shot at the big spot
And his opponent is mean,
A true killer of men
But he is stronger, tougher
He fights for the beat up, the broke down
He fights for those who have to beg
He fights for his family, for milk
He fights for the very right to live and breathe
And he will not lose this fight
He will scratch, bite, claw his way
But he will not lose
And he doesn't
And we won't
because losing isn't an option
because everything is riding on it
because suffering makes us stronger
because when life hits you hard, you don't fall down
You hit back
Mar 3, 2013
Mar 3, 2013 at 1:14 AM UTC
Heart pounding. Inside dying.
Head swirling- you feel like crying!
It's tough & Crazy.
Leaves everything Hazy.
The rule of maths- that ugly frog,
If it seems easy, you're doing it wrong.
Cursing, slamming, worse than drowning!
Like wounded animals, crazily howling!
The hell is this?! The hell is that?!
Someone kiss my head with a bat!
Tougher than keeping track of ping pong
If it seems easy- you're doing it wrong.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 9:27 AM UTC
I was three years out of high school and finally getting
the chance to grow up. I’d been ready since before
graduation day. Everybody in the world was certain
that I would fail. I couldn’t succeed. Thanks for the vote
of confidence. I am proving them wrong. I’m succeeding,
maybe not thriving, but succeeding right before their very eyes.
Success is living on my own. Being able to do every household
chore on my own. Success is getting myself to and from where
I need to be in my broken down, beat up wheelchair. Success
is budgeting my money each month. Success is not getting killed
and ***** on my walk home from work in the dark. Success is
living up to their standards and way of life. Success is faking a smile.
I’ve learned more about life in the last eight months than ever before.
I’ve made mistakes, just like they said I would. What they didn’t count
on was me learning from those mistakes and picking up the pieces.
They told me I wouldn’t last more than a month, six weeks at the most.
I would ***** up, fail miserably, get hurt and hospitalized. Thank you
for the boost of self-esteem. It’s made me tougher than steel.
I may not be the perfect student, skinny blonde ***** award winning
page designer or most eloquent writer. I may not speak Spanish fluently,
have loads of extra cash lying around or a motorized, state of the art
wheelchair. Stop telling me what I need. I don’t need or want any of them.
Success is living how I want to live. Success is a productive day when I want
nothing but hot tea and soft music. Success is having the confidence to ask
for help when I’ve been told I shouldn’t. Success is making friends who can
read through my masquerade. Success is facing the consequences. Success is
found through red ink marks and piles of papers. Success is not letting those
who don’t believe in me get the best of me. Success is sunshine on a cloudy day
Aug 9, 2010
Aug 9, 2010 at 9:29 PM UTC
For all the time I've know you
You've worn a mask upon your face
It appeared beautiful, perfect, and friendly
But now I realize that wasn't the case
For hiding underneath that mask
Was a soldier bent on destruction
Posing as a comrade fighting for good
But following the other side's instruction
You wormed your way into our ranks
And we accepted you as one of our own
But all of us were unaware
Your true intentions had not yet been shown
When an opportunity presented itself
You struck without any hesitation
Our troops started dropping left and right
Without any sign of infiltration
You knew you only had so long though
Before your actions got you caught
So you moved to abolish your final target
A tougher task than you had thought
That night, when you attacked me
You allowed your mask to fall
And as you fled, I caught a glance
Of the real person beneath it all
Well, "What doesn't **** you makes you stronger"
And you make me tougher every day
Which is why no matter what you do
I refuse to let you stand in my way
I learned some valuable lessons
About how you fight this war
And now those same old boring tactics
Won't work here any more
So thank you for the knife
That you embedded in my back
For you just gave me the tool I need
To defend against any future attack.
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 4:42 AM UTC
I'm Outstanding in a field
While out standing in a field
....with these teachers
C̵͍̞̓̄r̸̛͖̣͙̋̀ë̵̝͔́ä̶͎͕͉̈́t̶̢̠̍ͅǔ̵̹̠̖̊͠r̴̜̙̗̊̀e̷̡̢̜̕s̵͖͚̒̿ and prophets
You'd think its an easy hike,
but its more seagoing
I see, means my ego pre-going:
Just Color coding as another motif to talk with
No Shovel loading this buffer coating some mock spit
Of Sirrus winds and summer loving...
Was it other living or utter loathing?
No component, Native I'm Buffaloing
Icarus took the fire and I took the flowin
We've got the water ̶̧̧̼̖͙͔̹̻͕͖̠̤̓͊̆͋̐̓͂̄̊̚̕͠r̵͍͔̮͒̿̎́̊̈́͝ ũ̸͖͇̟̯̅̌̈́̕͠ n̵̲̤̙̜̑̑̽͑ n̵̡̺̪͎̯̫͐́̉͜͜ ì̷̺͍̹́̓̈́ ṉ̸̣̪͓̗̤́̈̊̈́̀ g̵͓̲̺̙̘̤̞̦̺̥̓͋̈̇͌̈́̃́͂̍͝
Is it fear or love?
Got the mother-loving
is it dear or turtle-dove?
Talking in terms of
inhaling foxglove
Stuck in the mud asking:
What's the size of....
What are we in the Light of?
Still:
Growing like a d̶̰̊̿̈́̓̿̿̑̈́͆̈̅̕a̵̻̤̒̅͛̿̀̎͘i̷͎̜̰̯͆̏̚s̵̡̢̼̺̬̬̖͚̦͍̠͑̀̀̃̀͌́͛̈́̌͝ȳ̴̞͖͓̝̥̭̥̖̑͋̔̎̀͗͘ ̸̢̪͍̠͕̩̥̒̍̓͋̈̐͊̂̎̓͝ ̵̡͇̳̦̦̥̰̝̐͐͌̐̓͐̈̏̀͘̕ ̶̡̨̟̼̺̺̝͇̍̀̓̓̏͌́͗̓̂͆͠
Growing like my Day Be
more than Dimebag lately
Growling like I'm Day Z̶̯̲̹̠̙̊̏́͗̿̎̅͗͐̿̃
Standing tall // Just Massing Nation
Is it all in my Imagination?
Fountain passion Claim free
Mountain Fashioned hazily
Passion Painting with Green Sea
Ripples passing freely through the sword
I be puffin on a horn like G̶̹͎̓̄̃͛͂͐͐a̵̻͕͔̯̹̿̕͝b̶̧̛͔̙͙̰̭̯̥̩̉̅̅̿̂̃r̴̝̞͎͂͗̈ĭ̴̘̈́̄̽̃͂̑́̈́͘͠ȩ̷̞̹̮̃̑̌͛̂́̀͝ḷ̶̢̡̭̫͉̬͇̀͜ ̸͚̳̘̜̫̱͖͂̇̓̈́̂̽͂̀̒
(Pfu du duu do duuuu)
Tougher than....
~imagining_
All the rougher
when we matching wings
Most people here
~just gather things_
Always stuffing torn like here we go:
(̷̛̰̼͕̰͊̂͆̿̅̀͝F̴̧̛͎͎̹͕̬͔͉̃͆̄̎͛̈͋͆̓̇͝ͅū̸̪͎̦̻͕̼͉̼͇̤̄̀̏̓̅͗͌ ̸̧͚̝̟͎̺̝̱͉̓͝ḑ̷̧̰̞̪̥͊̈̑̑̔͋͐͜͝͝ų̵̢̮̙͙̭̫̤̤̖̽̄̈́̀͒̅̀̕͜͝͠ ̷̨̨̥̩̘̱̘̓̉̈̈͌̃͊́̾̚͘d̷̺͛͂̏͑̂͛̊͛͘͝u̷̧͉̹̟͎͉̎̓̎̌ú̵̢̪̺̱̥͆̅́̄̈́̈̚͝ ̷̨̝̥̫̣̻͚̍̍͊͛͌̃͌̀̆̃̚͜͠ḑ̵̡̛͚͚̩͓̼̲͇̮͑̃̅͗̿̓͐͝ͅõ̵̢̰͎̹̥̫̺͍̎́͌̓ ̵͚̺̼͇͔̻̫͇̤̆̔͛͐͆̀̚͝ḑ̴̻̪̉̍͌̽̿̚̚̚ͅư̶̛̘͔̹̰̈́͒͑̍͐̎̈̈́̒͜û̶̬̮̙͍̺̬̯̻͚̺͌̂̌ͅu̴̞̫͓̭̮̽̽͌̊̄̃̔̎̃͘͠͠ŭ̷͎̎̉̆̈́̚͠)̷͖͔͔̤̗̋͛͜
Come and tumble
Hear how can it sing...
All the colors, Smatterings
Can't muck with my energy
Mastered the art of astral projection
Grinding rice with mortar and pestle
Just to Vortex the best view
Motor no next to you
Torn from the best of true
R̶̯̞͕̭͠͝e̴̳̗̍͒ͅä̷͎̬́̀̋̂̕l̴̼͇̗̈́̿̈ỉ̶̙͔̤̓t̵̩͚͎̥͕͓̍̏̌̉ẏ̸̫͌ worn for the rest of you.
Rolling free with no potent fees
Taking liberties with the energies
Got the water ̶̧̧̼̖͙͔̹̻͕͖̠̤̓͊̆͋̐̓͂̄̊̚̕͠r̵͍͔̮͒̿̎́̊̈́͝R ũ̸͖͇̟̯̅̌̈́̕͠ Un̵̲̤̙̜̑̑̽͑ Nn̵̡̺̪͎̯̫͐́̉͜͜ Nì̷̺͍̹́̓̈́ Nṉ̸̣̪͓̗̤́̈̊̈́̀Gg̵͓̲̺̙̘̤̞̦̺̥̓͋̈̇͌̈́̃́͂̍͝
Is it fear or love?
Got the mother-loving
is it dear or dote?
More like do or don't.
Floating on the shore like: Heeere we go.
Blowing on a horn with Gabriel :
(̴̨̳̙͕̲̤̮͕̖̅͐̄̍͒́̎̋̌̈́̾͑̆͑̊̿̃̓͛̓̒͘͜͝F̴̧̢̨̹͎̖̼̝͚̤̥̖̰̭͕̳̖̩̘̜̝̩̟̠̩̝̘̰͎̜̮͖̓̏̾̔̉͗̈́̕͝ͅͅ ȗ̶̡̳͕̘̲̜̳͖͉͇̮̟̪̬̜̜̩̥̻̝̭͓̥̍̍͂̈͆̉͗̎̈́͗̓́̑͊̋́͗̿͐̍̏̋̓̓͊̿̚͠ ̷̢̧̹͙̫̜̝̲͖̹̪͓̲̫̟̹͎̖̦̝̳̙͎͍͍̱̳̼̗͎̻͖̰̘̻͈̲͌̏̐̽̀̉̇̒͗́͑́͑͐̈͌̿͐̍̒̒̌̀̈͑̃̅͋̌͛͂̔́̀̍́̎̅̚̚͘͝ͅͅḑ̶̧̢͇͎͖̝̠͈͍̫̰̝̯͔͉̝͓͚̭͖̻͓̗̬̺̞̖͈̜͍̹̜̺̩͈̃̎̀̂͂́̀͂̄̐̍̆̈́́̈́̈̏̈́̉̿͒͋̈́̓̾̍̆̍̈͊͂̐̒̀̚͜͝͝͝͝ û̷͚̻̟̰͈̒̊͒̀̿̾͋̒͌̊̾̇̉́͆̅͒̈́̈̾̓̑͗̃̈́̓̄̀́́̽͗͘̚̕͘͝ ̵̡̢̢̡̢̘͍͉͕̠̮̤̗̻͈̯͙̲̳͎̪̹̗͓͈̟͕͇̃͒̋͒͒̉͊̎̂̽̋͋̈̀͊̅̔̒͐̋́͐̏͑͋͌͛̇͛̓̄̄̍͐ͅd̸͔͕̞̪̝̖̩͂̂̎̀͐͒̿͘ư̶̡̩͙͇̥͈͔̮̟͕̺͙̈̅̽̍̒͌͛͑͋̉̿̎̂̿́̈́̊͗̄̔̎̏̑̂̔̊̈́̕͝ͅ ư̸̧̡̼͈̲̰͓̹̗̩͓͙̹̯̹͊͐̒̾̆́̍̒̓͑̍̈́͆̉̀͘ ̷̢̧̺̩͕̟̙̳̜̩̗͔̻͕͈̥͈͖̩͇͈̠͉̩̈́̃̌̈́͌̇͂̓̐̇̍̏́̋̔͂̈́́̒̽́̓̓̚͜͜͝͠͝ d̷͔̮͓͖̉ ờ̷̧̨̡̛̛͓̗͉̪͖̼̜̬̜̦͎̻̙̖̣̠͈̳͊́̈́͊͋͊̉̈͒̔̐̄̌̎̀̈́̊̋̉̏̒̑͗͋̓̔̉̓̋͒̇͘͘͝͝͠͠ͅ ̷̳̦͙͙̤̺̜̥̖̬̮̰͈̣̗̙̮̬̈́̈́̾̂͆̓̈́ͅͅ d̵̛̳͈̗̋͊̓̒̅̿́͗́̒̂̈́̌͋̄̀́̌̄̈́͛͋̊̎̈́̓̉̕͠͝͝͠͝͠ư̵̘͚͔̫̮̭̖̱̞͔̦̩̹̱̺̺̝̬͖̜̼̬̮͎͚̪̼̯̫̳̜̙͓̥͎̳̥̻̾͆̄̋̅̂̃͒͛̿̐͒̿̊̌̓̈̅̃̒̈̈́̎̿̓̕͘͜͝͝͠͝͝ ư̴̡̧̢̧̦̭͍̮̜͓̫̪͇̖̤͙̻̮͉̭̯̙̞̥̗̱̩̞̞̼̟̱̟̦͚̼̲̼͚͈̈́͆̏͆̌̉̀͛͆͐͛̇̇̍̓̔̄͂͌̿̒̄́̌̕̚̕̕̕͝͝ ų̵̧̛͉̺̜͎̜̩͖̲̟͔̬̦̤̖͎̫͔͖̮͕̗̼͙̫̼̭̦͕̫͖͉̆͐̾̑͂͋͂̎̊͗̈́̂̕͘͜͝ͅͅ ư̶̛͙̠͆̓̃̀̍̄̔̄̇͗̀́̐́̌͂̋̑̏̄̑̕͠͠͝͝͝)̵̨̡̧̛̛̙͚̪̬̤͕̥̳̥̱̞̺͎̫̩͌́̈́̑̂̌̈͐͐͊̈́̇͐̍͒̓̓̀͐̃̆͐̓̍̀̐̃͑̕̕̕̕͝͝
Oct 27, 2021
Oct 27, 2021 at 1:12 PM UTC
What is this strange feeling that has fallen over me?
I burn like a demon being touched by a rosary
Yet I dont move away, I continue to suffer
Enduring this pain acting as if it will make me tougher...
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 2:23 AM UTC
No matter what I do
theres always something
I want more
Like a camera
or a trip
or even just something
just a little bit better
than what I have, even if its older, because
sometimes things
of old are
so much better
than the new,
like how I look at
These cameras I dream of
in stores, in
flea markets,
I hold their predecessors,
their grandfathers
and feel the cold calm
of the metal body
in my hands, and know that
things just aren’t built this way any
more, and people
aren’t what they used to be, or
so it seems,
from the history classes
and all the books
I read, about life
before it was my time
and how people seemed
to give a ****
and didn’t just sit
and whine
and waste so much time,
but how did they live
before Facebook
how could they
fall in love without
Tinder,
or read the news without
Twitter
or pass their classes without
google on their Androids in their laps to pass the answers on the test before them?
So I guess they were just tougher
than us, like these old cameras
I want, and they
didn’t want, like we
want to pretend we need
so we don’t have to accept
what’s right in front of us.
Our excuse that
We need to wait for film
To develop.
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 8:39 PM UTC
When were together I am unstoppable
I am tougher than nails
so you can call me the Man Of Steel
the love I feel never fails
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 1:52 PM UTC
Vague recollections,
Of curio collections,
Salt and pepper shakers, unused
crystal ashtrays, reflecting rainbows
of northern prairie light on days bright.
A prairie girl, did you miss the place near the Arctic Circle,
your home? Did Odin and Freya call you away from here to
there, or was Thor, or Loki the thunder in your angry voice
that I feared and may have hid under the steep basement
stairs, quietly in the dark hoping you were unaware.
Some of your children, and
your spouse, left before you did,
I know that was tough, and a shame.
You were tougher, though, you did
suffer in you aging frame.
I know you loved us all, I know you knew me too,
very early you said of me "he is a sensitive child", which
I have found to be all too true, many years after you have
gone I miss you, grandpa and dad, Audrey and Vic too.
Did you all find Valhalla at Heaven's Gate?
So I will not stir up the past, nor
will I hurry, through each day, for
I will remember, and smile at those
memories that brought me joy, prose
and rhyme not of a child, but a Viking man.
©DWE032013
Mar 3, 2013
Mar 3, 2013 at 3:02 AM UTC