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"tranquilised" poems
I look upon the sapphire sky, perfectly tranquilised, with the birds flying happily. I listen to the unchained melody of the ferocious waterfall and feel it inside me. I look at mother nature looking beautiful as ever, like a fresh rose in June. Then I look at you, these three words come out of my mouth automatically, I love you
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Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017 at 1:06 AM UTC
You
How to approach something so intangible, with little cellular to describe to my nerves How to make verbal something so emotional, based on psychology and civil construction How to perceive myself appropriately despite the eroding drips that pierce progress and old photos I cling to with such immaturity These questions all are for the same goal, that progression of the self, all those substantial, cerebral, sensual and societal realisations that I yearn for And yet... I sit, making delusional dreams come true in screens, I sit, making deep intellectual arguments for causes that aren't my own, I sit, researching complicated **** ups and ****** withs the powerful inflict in their attempts to balance a system born broken and biased Screens are our new ****** it seems, as we reject religion our screens let us forget that the world continues around us, or encourage us not to care And I come to this self consciousness, this ironic hypocritical reprehension Because I really enjoy what all these creative minds and years of work and beauteous ideas have given me, but with the same hypocritical tone, despise my compulsion to stare into pixels As I indulge this self awareness, I know I will continue with the same mental obesity of consumption tomorrow And there will be no hypocritical self evaluation, just self involved enjoyment Until the moments come when I am left alone with my mind Self conscious, reflective, feeling as the time has been lost, but my mind is too tranquilised with pixel and poster representations of reality to notice This won't change but... Maybe if I take some time to turn pages rather than press buttons, and stare at sunsets rather than screens That self evaluative journey I've ignored and returned to sporadically in the reflective yet warm darkness would be less intimidating And if nothing else, on those days where reality lies next to me filling my cerebral stomach with the undeniably existential I might feel a bit better about those days lost to other people's stories
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Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 7:24 PM UTC
Square eyes
How to approach something so intangible, with little cellular to describe to my nerves How to make verbal something so emotional, based on psychology and civil construction How to perceive myself appropriately despite the eroding drips that pierce progress and old photos I cling to with such immaturity These questions all are for the same goal, that progression of the self, all those substantial, cerebral, sensual and societal realisations that I yearn for And yet... I sit, making delusional dreams come true in screens, I sit, making deep intellectual arguments for causes that aren't my own, I sit, researching complicated **** ups and ****** withs the powerful inflict in their attempts to balance a system born broken and biased Screens are our new ****** it seems, as we reject religion our screens let us forget that the world continues around us, or encourage us not to care And I come to this self consciousness, this ironic hypocritical reprehension Because I really enjoy what all these creative minds and years of work and beauteous ideas have given me, but with the same hypocritical tone, despise my compulsion to stare into pixels As I indulge this self awareness, I know I will continue with the same mental obesity of consumption tomorrow And there will be no hypocritical self evaluation, just self involved enjoyment Until the moments come when I am left alone with my mind Self conscious, reflective, feeling as the time has been lost, but my mind is too tranquilised with pixel and poster representations of reality to notice This won't change but... Maybe if I take some time to turn pages rather than press buttons, and stare at sunsets rather than screens That self evaluative journey I've ignored and returned to sporadically in the reflective yet warm darkness would be less intimidating And if nothing else, on those days where reality lies next to me filling my cerebral stomach with the undeniably existential I might feel a bit better about those days lost to other people's stories
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17
Candy A candy box of vile lies, Lies, Which left me tranquilised, A game of thrones, Was in full swing, Guess, Who stole the power back, Twisted, Turned into a monster, Only for him, He got his just desserts, Numbed extreme, In extremities, Feelings not lost, Forever more, Happened many times before, Evened now, It's in the past, Guess who won? It is all done, WOW! By ladylivvi1 © 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
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May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 2:37 PM UTC
Candy!
Left her crying in the driveway after forcing her way through the window, feigned a car crash, a sudden death, so I could sleep alone and warm without discussion across the pillow. Drank whiskey and coke, distant and remote- noted her painted nails, her short skirt, her knotted shirt, shaved legs in anticipation for something I could not give her. Made an excuse to sing the blues until the pills took their hold and muffled my strings in a tranquilised series of half-toned grins and yawns that sing the death of another evening. Would rather take to art than any flesh, bone, or heart that bleeds upon my feeling, would rather cling to a verse, a muddied crime, suit, or hearse, that leaves me high and dry and staring up at the ceiling. Left her nursing her wounds whilst I search for an excuse why I cannot love without leaving. Left her alone in her bed a feast of wine and bread that has no taste, that has no rhyme or reason, for why I keep ploughing the field, for why I keep moving through the seasons. There is no meaning to my motion, no depth to my frantic gathering of breath, no distilled calm, nor consequence to each brief, suffering emotion. I am just a ladder to climb. I am no stairway to heaven.
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Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 2:46 PM UTC
Love Beyond A Cure
I feel pity for the ocean. In order to be loved, she stays silent – masking the tiniest whisper of her feelings, slowly forgetting the fiery waves she is made of. For no man dares approach her when she is crashing her turbulent bones on the rocks. They will wait until she has calmed – tranquilised, ready to reflect their likeness on herself. They can't handle her intensity, leaving behind corpses of memories – abandoned promises of eternity, never to come true. Of course, I understand the ocean. She shares the same fate I do – the woman's fate. Creatures crucified for emodying their soul.
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Nov 8, 2024
Nov 8, 2024 at 2:01 PM UTC
Hysteria
Rolling lips. Flashing eyes. Blazing red. Petrified. Stiletto heels. Stake in hand. The huntress waits inside. Shadow blanket. Cool and damp. Lover rigid. Tranquilised. Palm pressed hard. Upon forehead. Body sustenance all gone. Dead. Huntress's stake. Life did take. She must. Vampire. Undead. Pile of dust. Goodbye my love. (c)LIVVI
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Oct 24, 2015
Oct 24, 2015 at 5:28 PM UTC
HALLOWEEN PARTY
The Wild Park! In a vague and hazy love song, We're dancing in the dark, Where flower bands and garlands, Are skipping round my head, Where fairies kiss me on the ears, To chase away my tragic fears, To make wild magic of their own, In wilderness land, Such luscious bounty found. Lain in the park under the oak, Looking at the sky, You and I, Thee and me, Laid beneath that ancient tree, The bees were crowding round the bark, Having their own sweet party in the park, The sky was bright, Came out of dark, Wandered through the wild garden, Beauty seen before my eyes, A combination poppies and veg, All laid in the flower bed, Foxes left their gloves behind, So hum drum people can find, Some very strange and weird plants, So beautiful I'm tranquilised, In this garden of romance! By ladylivvi1 © 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
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Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 7:42 AM UTC
The Wild Garden!
In a vague and hazy love song, We're dancing in the dark, Where flower bands and garlands, Are skipping round my head, Where fairies kiss me on the ears, To chase away my tragic fears, To make wild magic of their own, In wilderness land, Such luscious bounty found. Lain in the park under the oak, Looking at the sky, You and I, Thee and me, Laid beneath that ancient tree, The bees were crowding round the bark, Having their own sweet party in the park, The sky was bright, Came out of dark, Wandered through the wild garden, Beauty seen before my eyes, A combination poppies and veg, All laid in the flower bed, Foxes left their gloves behind, So hum drum people can find, Some very strange and weird plants, So beautiful I'm tranquilised, In this garden of romance! By ladylivvi1 © 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
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Jul 1, 2013
Jul 1, 2013 at 2:52 PM UTC
The Wild Park!
There are inmates in outpatients and patients in side wards with ingrowing toenails, Doctors who mumble old people who stumble apple crumble at lunchtime a woodbine for the smoking room which doubles as a lead lined tomb for when the X-ray's run wild. He has no compunction in diagnosing dysfunction I wonder who died and made this man a God. When they do an autopsy and cut bits off of me I think that It'll shock them when they see Blackpool Rock printed right through me. I return to the inmates who've been discharged from a cannon, I feel like a man on a mission which is wholly unlikely. The Doctor's tread lightly now inject me twice nightly now how I wish I was back in the outpatients but I have patience, I'll wait, an unstable inmate tranquilised and stabilised. a hamster on a wheel.
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Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 4:41 PM UTC
The execution of hope
Suddenly the stars went out, The moon glowed cold. A wild sky. Tormenting winds. The clouds blown into obscurity. Blocking moonlight from thee and me. Howling dust coated landscape reared up in front of me. Blankness of sunless expression. The war made it's darkest impression. I saw a rat scurrying over there, beneath the shadow coated wall. The dead wrapped in their silent shrouds, as wall images. Poor sods. Oh God, No God? Somehow, you still hold my hand. Maybe we just hold each other up. Into my tranquilised eyes you stare. I stare back into yours. No music, no love, mere existence. The wireless crackles ...---... There must be someone out there, So now what do we eat? (C)LIVVI
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Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 4:13 PM UTC
THE TWO OF US
**** near choked on my laughter. I mean, I **** near died from the comedy. It wasn't a joke, but I was still vomiting, it held no reality But I spared no brutality. In actuality I've Been self actualised. I need no figure to show me I've been tranquilised. Took such time before I realised. I've been dead & reanimated, Zombie flesh decimated, All my values antiquated, Leaves my mind devastated.
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Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 3:54 AM UTC
Antiquated