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"trashes" poems
The age, when they are supposed to play with toys Picking up the broken & trashes for others, these Garbage boys In the piles of disposed plastic chocked their story sentimental The boys, dusty body so frail & gentle Wrapped in clothes, tattered torn, dull & discolored like them Surviving against the rules of Darwin Too starved & malnutritioned & no one cares Only the open sky & thrown food, they share In the chaos of every city they have to find a place to sleep They collect the things, what people call waste & cheap No parents, no future, just the harsh life on the road side Living in their small world unaware with pride Shiny cars & luxury clothes, sparks their eyes Telling that they have dreams, But Their memories full of hate, insult & razed Which are permanent & can't be erased Unexpected rains, deadly cold & sweaty summers Not every one of them end up like a Kite Runner When people sleep comfortably in their sweet home They stand there with the fainted & blurred shadow alone
0
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 2:08 PM UTC
The Garbage boys
when in stillness undying screams within explode anxieties crawl like bugs under the skin of which the world is deaf n blind when in stillness callued demons awake trashes revealed clogging up the mind for hundred years or so when in stillness they melt away energy recharged vibration flows the vines lightness comes up eyeing n eyeing n eyeing the mind pattern n sensation with full awareness of which free from cravings or aversions to stillness and equanimity we sync
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May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 2:07 PM UTC
when in stillness
black or white tan-like brown hate the people we are blind everybody is a group world of fun showbiz catchers trend-like thing views of envy tricky sight the line is created trashes are trashed if you’re so small they are big live with it side by side
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Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 9:47 AM UTC
RACIST
It took me a decade of toil years of experience and expertise to learn that men are happy scoring ecstatic when he bags and trashes that short win he has not earned Sometimes as women we steam trimmed with seams of emotion awaiting to open hearts unreserved Yet he don’t want this vulnerability he wants to be ignored and uncared for denied and kept at the deepest ledge for when you give yourself easily he will devalue your inner-self blocking and tantalising from afar Men are still immature within afraid of closeness,scared of love afraid of the emotions,scared to trust and when he chases,he is fast as a cheetah preying closer and closer to his price and when he lies, he sugar coats the facts so that he creates an illusionary promise Yet deep within he is like a baby strained with automatic reflexes unable to make an emotional dialogue on how to make the woman really happy....
0
Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 12:10 PM UTC
Emotive Men in Motion
The Mind is like Quicksand: The more one trashes about trying to escape, the swifter one is subdued and ****** into it.
0
Jul 6, 2012
Jul 6, 2012 at 1:56 PM UTC
Quicksand
You're clowns, as laughable as hell Go read the passage on Cyber  troll perps unemployed ******* paid to sit online writing ******* to flood and demoralize the ninocoops brain deed perverts think others are weak inconsequentials dweeps like the spineless nervous victims you usually terrorize Go re-appraise your anodyne tactics 30 years, I am still standing still laughing Am at my best when alone ready for turds I don't hide, I haven't fled anywhere Or go all shaky and trembly You don't frighten or terrorize me one bit My mind is razor sharp, my nerves steely as ever Coward wiggas are contemptibles Can't stand and trade face to face Only brave when they gang up against one man behind screens inventing false identities You are laughable, odious little perp rats. Deluded slaves controlled fools..... Hahaha....hahaha....Hahaha....western rubish trailer trashes, you can't even spell your lingo PERP CYBER TROLL, VIGILANTES OF THIEVES LAUGHABLE MORONS, SIMPLETONS YOBBOS SHAMELESS FOOLS, LOOK HOW LONG YOU'VE BEEN AT IT, CAN'T BRING DOWN JUST ONE MAN WHITE THIEVES SERVANTS....Hahaha...hahaha
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Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 3:34 PM UTC
MOB VIGILANTES....hahaha
he is the worst person you have ever met he is constantly judging always making snide remarks always telling you that you can be doing better when he talks there is always a sense of acknowledged arrogance his steps are loud like the rest of him he always seems to be around. especially when you don’t want him to be he knows when one more sly remark will do you in (and then makes one) he trashes your house at parties he eats out your fridge clean he seduces your girlfriend and beguiles your wife and he always seems to be preferred by your friends you can’t shake him you can’t hide from him he knows where you are and you know that too he doesn’t need shadows when you’re as paranoid as you are he can be in the room and yet somehow be hiding from you he laughs when you scream at him for the millionth time he smiles as you cry or hold back crying he climaxes when you beg him to stop he will never leave you you are born with him and will die with him no-one else knows he’s there but they always suspect there’s someone bugging you (they know people like him too) he doesn’t ever leave things too messed up and the worst part of it all is that he’s right always right always always always right when he whispers that you don’t love her he’s right when he shows you how stupid you were acting he’s right when he dances ahead of you because you can’t keep up he’s right and most of all he’s right when he tells you it’s all your fault you can put your fists up but that’s worth jack-shit he never needs to say a word but he does anyways (he always wins, especially in fights) he’ll ask you one day what it’s like to be the biggest **** up in the world you will suddenly hear an empathic tone in his voice that most definitely wasn’t there before what’s it like? he asks again and again you hear that tremble, that aching, shaking, terrible confusion that means he really wants to know but why does he? does he care? does he not hate me? does he… love me? he waits for your answer “you’re not anybody, are you?” you’ll ask no, he’ll say, only what you let me be and from that day forth he’ll only be a memory, threatening to come back if you ever let yourself go (like you did) again
0
May 25, 2011
May 25, 2011 at 4:14 PM UTC
the conscious
he is the worst person you have ever met he is constantly judging always making snide remarks always telling you that you can be doing better when he talks there is always a sense of acknowledged arrogance his steps are loud like the rest of him he always seems to be around. especially when you don’t want him to be he knows when one more sly remark will do you in (and then makes one) he trashes your house at parties he eats out your fridge clean he seduces your girlfriend and beguiles your wife and he always seems to be preferred by your friends you can’t shake him you can’t hide from him he knows where you are and you know that too he doesn’t need shadows when you’re as paranoid as you are he can be in the room and yet somehow be hiding from you he laughs when you scream at him for the millionth time he smiles as you cry or hold back crying he climaxes when you beg him to stop he will never leave you you are born with him and will die with him no-one else knows he’s there but they always suspect there’s someone bugging you (they know people like him too) he doesn’t ever leave things too messed up and the worst part of it all is that he’s right always right always always always right when he whispers that you don’t love her he’s right when he shows you how stupid you were acting he’s right when he dances ahead of you because you can’t keep up he’s right and most of all he’s right when he tells you it’s all your fault you can put your fists up but that’s worth jack-shit he never needs to say a word but he does anyways (he always wins, especially in fights) he’ll ask you one day what it’s like to be the biggest **** up in the world you will suddenly hear an empathic tone in his voice that most definitely wasn’t there before what’s it like? he asks again and again you hear that tremble, that aching, shaking, terrible confusion that means he really wants to know but why does he? does he care? does he not hate me? does he… love me? he waits for your answer “you’re not anybody, are you?” you’ll ask no, he’ll say, only what you let me be and from that day forth he’ll only be a memory, threatening to come back if you ever let yourself go (like you did) again
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121
#052816 Career is calling me, Ringing for several times. My thumping heart says, "These're your dreams, why not give it a try?" Lingering deep down on my marrows, An illusion of deception, An escape to higher dimension. Yes, I want to be who I wanna be, But when not in Christ, it'd be a shattered me. Calling isn't ringing at all, But he's bumping down my inner soul. He's not my type but there's something in him. That waiting becomes a rest that's a prerequisite. I'd required so much for myself; At times, rest becomes a chapter to close I'd to wipe every single misfortunes of old I'd rather face this moment of yes to His call. Praying to God led me to found the key, The gist to a rebel who's vault is in an alley. Dreams of old, faults of such degree Of burnt, unwrapped -- an ambushed stealing of me. "What have you done?" One voice tamed the thousands, Bring halt the aphonic mimics of who's legit. Found myself showered w/ crystal-clear tears. Awaken, tattooed the psyche of self; Trashes became a view, floating with the unrest ocean. I hear no breeze nor its whispering fears, But fear itself, a coated-candy of trampled gears.
0
May 27, 2016
May 27, 2016 at 10:58 PM UTC
Heart Cannot Beat for Two
Chaos over sleep. You supply the torches, I'll supply the mob. This bed's too big for the one of us. The maggots already ate through the moose, leaving two yellowed-white anchors made of bone to sink into the floor. Bologna; The meat that lies straight to your face. The news is getting olds. Analyzing bags and trashes. Paralyzing eyelashes snap shut, trapping the fly. Thus, the death of an ego was born. Reading is kind of like smoking except you don't burn the paper. The quickest way to burn a bridge is to kiss it. Don't be a stranger now. I'm strange enough for the both of us. The ins and outs of the whens and wheres I do and do not belong. That bar fight with the bathroom door really did a doozy on my eyebrow. You know I will hunt whatever, you pra(e)y. Blessed by lowercase god and misspelled Amerika('Merica). Same message, different bottle. My dreams are too loud before I fall asleep. The first possibility that you jump to write off has the highest probability of containing the things that will set you right off. My teeth may not have any layers of skin left to ride by. From poverty to profanity; proverbs to insanity. A serpent a day keeps the apples away. Growing weary of the definitive abstracts, I curl up somewhat uncomfortably numb in the cracks of the curbs and sidewalks... And with that the last thought of the night twisted into the air and joined with the wisps of smoke pouring from the final cigarette. The odyssey in mind sends our hero sailing from the shores of "I know how to do it all" into the vast and turbulent waves of "I do it all." The bird who clipped its own wings. The Jack of All Trades, the Queen of No Hearts, the King of Nothing, the Ace of Idle. Faceless cards. Just a chess piece on a checker board. Maybe there's less to figure out than there is to understand. Always on the brink of making things right. Don't let it slink away in the middle of the night. I had an uncomfortably close call with life. What some would call a near-life experience. I swear I was inches away from living...
0
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 9:15 AM UTC
The Old Adages
Chaos over sleep. You supply the torches, I'll supply the mob. This bed's too big for the one of us. The maggots already ate through the moose, leaving two yellowed-white anchors made of bone to sink into the floor. Bologna; The meat that lies straight to your face. The news is getting olds. Analyzing bags and trashes. Paralyzing eyelashes snap shut, trapping the fly. Thus, the death of an ego was born. Reading is kind of like smoking except you don't burn the paper. The quickest way to burn a bridge is to kiss it. Don't be a stranger now. I'm strange enough for the both of us. The ins and outs of the whens and wheres I do and do not belong. That bar fight with the bathroom door really did a doozy on my eyebrow. You know I will hunt whatever, you pra(e)y. Blessed by lowercase god and misspelled Amerika('Merica). Same message, different bottle. My dreams are too loud before I fall asleep. The first possibility that you jump to write off has the highest probability of containing the things that will set you right off. My teeth may not have any layers of skin left to ride by. From poverty to profanity; proverbs to insanity. A serpent a day keeps the apples away. Growing weary of the definitive abstracts, I curl up somewhat uncomfortably numb in the cracks of the curbs and sidewalks... And with that the last thought of the night twisted into the air and joined with the wisps of smoke pouring from the final cigarette. The odyssey in mind sends our hero sailing from the shores of "I know how to do it all" into the vast and turbulent waves of "I do it all." The bird who clipped its own wings. The Jack of All Trades, the Queen of No Hearts, the King of Nothing, the Ace of Idle. Faceless cards. Just a chess piece on a checker board. Maybe there's less to figure out than there is to understand. Always on the brink of making things right. Don't let it slink away in the middle of the night. I had an uncomfortably close call with life. What some would call a near-life experience. I swear I was inches away from living...
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28
he wanted nothing more than her love and she wanted nothing more than his demise to him, she was god's dove while for her, he was the product of the trashes' cries. yet, she could not explain the feeling in her chest as it constricted painfully and threateningly when she saw him enter eternal rest and he fell to ground, lifelessly. maybe she didn't love him as much or at all, even but she would do anything to crunch at the chance to enter heaven. she would enter heaven to claim back trash because no matter what she words she would say he had more worth than any cash as she longs for just one yesterday.
0
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 2:26 AM UTC
just one yesterday
Come to me I’ll handle your problems I’ll tell you how much you mean to me I’ll show you and be with you A corner of donations A letter to say I care One comes and says thank you I’ll keep you in mind Another passes but trashes the letter. Eventually this pattern of take and receive continues And still not a concern or thank you to him Days go by which turn into months, Then years Until one day he’s not there. The people question where he has went. They go down an alley to see him drunk and high In worry they go to mend to him In an attempt to save him, they can’t. He’s taking his last breath and asks for them to read the letter has for every single one of them It says “I wish you an amazing day, I hope to see you succeed in many ways. I hope you make others proud as I have seen you. Smile and keep your head up. I love you and believe in you with everything you do. And we may not know each other well, I want you to know there’s someone who cares for you. No matter what.” All of them in shock and disgust realizing they took him for granted Watched him pass away Never again to be standing. Though his small letters made an impact that day It was daily forgotten within a matter of days.... Why? You see, he didn’t matter to the world. He was simply another man to them Unless he was cared for and seen, unless he made a big name or had a title, he didn’t matter. And neither do I...
0
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 12:11 AM UTC
Hug
In a place devoid of love, In a palace devoid of feelings, In a house where my tears drop, In a home where my infancy is lost, In a land that the guard watches, In a box that she trashes not, In a space not reserved, Not reserved for the lucky, But friendly for the unlucky, Not interested in walk the ways, Where they deserted me in middle.
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Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 12:13 AM UTC
I Seek Refuge
The voices inside talks and in multiple highs it trips In the midst here I passively shout. The trashes and my internal gossips Here they are to put me in doubt, Questioning my existence and the unknown trips. But you know what, I will stay align and to this I vow To being uncomfortable and reaching beyond pain To appreciate this little spark of life and its beauty again and again.
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Feb 27, 2019
Feb 27, 2019 at 9:35 AM UTC
Little spark called Life
i am mother nature i am your home i gave you shelter i gave you warmth i gave you comfort i gave you food i gave you water i gave you air i gave you everything i am what you called your safe space i am where you planted your first flowers i am what brings you from one place to another i am where you belong look around all you see are pieces of me my trees my oceans my clouds my land my entirety every single action determines your future every single action shapes your environment every single action is what makes you YOU before doing anything think twice think thrice when all the trees are cut down when all the oceans are filled with trash when all the air are unsafe to breathe when all the land are abandoned only then you will discover the importance of mother nature listen to me start picking up your trashes start consuming less plastic start throwing your garbage properly start living rightfully because if I am kept unhealthy humans won’t survive i am here since the earliest of times i have witnessed the evolution of organisms i have given birth to various creatures and i have seen them died at my own hands i don’t actually need them they need me you need me if you won’t take care of me i CAN NOT take care of you i am not a fragment of your universe i am your universe i am inevitable
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Jan 17, 2021
Jan 17, 2021 at 8:32 PM UTC
What if mother nature spoke to us?
There are days when things are good. Where you rise With a sunset lighting up your bones. You feel big And your heart is something you love. And you smile While the rain trashes against your face like tears that aren't yours.
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Nov 1, 2017
Nov 1, 2017 at 7:07 AM UTC
There Are Days #1
Boom here Boom there Doom; fear Hummed tear Kids orphaned Man sacrificed Wanderers shoot dead But who cares I’m not safe I need a place Where there are no guns Where there are no bombs Where the land is green Where the sky ain’t grey Where movement is free Where the air ain’t thick Yes, I’m leaving Freedom is what I’m seeking No, I cannot leave How about my wife and kids I once had a home I was once known For my wordsmithing and prose I once had dreams and hope But now, all is soak I was once famous and rich Wealth and nutrition are things I had in reach Now they’ve all turn to trashes Burn down to ashes Are we on route or stray Wait, is it judgment day? Ohw, we’re in the midst of war Our vision for peace is blurred Our street filled with blood Homeless sleeping on the street floor Battered path Broken shelter Shattered heart Hectar sketar But how do we get here How do our problems build up to stairs? Like ghommids, our tears remained constant Our stomach; filled with fake substance Because of the hatred we had for ourselves Our once paradisal home now turned to hell Because our governments are just bandits of theft And we have no says in things that we get Businessman lacks patriotism Different kind of societal atrocity Corruption and cultism Religion tribalism When will all this stop? When will salvation come? God; please free us from this curse Please save us Lord
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Apr 17, 2019
Apr 17, 2019 at 4:11 PM UTC
Turmoil
As winter weather fall like feather The ashes of my heart trashes me apart Like nudging the piercing to get a feeling It makes me pay away The deeds of my yesterday It's slow like cancer And the pain was from your answer That I can never be your lover I know I'm just a cover And this isn't forever So I'll bit my tongue and bleed For someday i might succeed But for now I'll hide this pain Like wearing a jacket on my pocket On a rainy season of May So i crawl down your hall Out of this place For i know i have a replace Just let me take time to call For what i can only do is slow fall
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Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 4:00 AM UTC
Slow Fall
I am not where I want to be Neither am I where I used to be But in the process of getting to where God has destined for me Sometimes I feel like leaving this world And be at where the trashes are hurled Sometimes I want to commit suicide And I know it can't be denied Then I realize it's better to accept what I see Than to strive for what may not be I may not be the best Among the rest I am always known To be alone I know it's part of God's plan To lift the ban
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Jun 14, 2019
Jun 14, 2019 at 4:24 AM UTC
Hope is all I need
I penegrate the universes I search with the masses With huss and due demises With raw and hood devices For a rhyme I’ll use to describe this A line to fit the verses To describe my hopes and dreams more wild than huge atlantis I wanna be a poet that writes with rhythm trances I wanna be a part of the offspring that wisdom hatches But I’m surrounded by many trashes Infact! I’m loosing chances(tactics) My soul hath an hidden matchet Rowing-out my weary goal; burning down the **** to ashes **** all the witches *****
0
Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 6:33 PM UTC
Freestyle
I wish I could stop looking at you And checking where you are I know I know too much But trust me this information are unhelpful They only give me a wonder Why am I still looking at our story And why can't I find you anywhere Including good memories Hard times Heart trashes Places
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Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 9:17 AM UTC
Heart trashes