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"trustingly" poems
There were Chinese lanterns at New Year when it was so cold the fireworks froze in the air, bursts of red and silver beside the dazzling lights of London. From our perch on Parliament Hill we stood, anonymous in the crowd, looking down at the giddy world and at the final minute of the year it was just you and I and then it started to snow. Families let off the slow moving lanterns, children held them tight in their hands- but they were pulling, pulling caught by the night wind, their ghostly silhouettes drifted up and up, til they became stars themselves to us. They were moments of peace against the busy noise of the city, softly golden, trustingly floating further and further. I didn't know that you too would soon be gone and nothing I could say would change your mind. If I had thought to then I would have made a wish on each lantern I saw rising like a thousand spirit kings above the earth. I would have wished and wished, and sent my heart out there too: I will always remember the soft chills of snow beginning to fall and the quiet beauty of those Chinese lanterns. I will remember your hand slipping into mine, and the silent slide of that year into the past, yes, I will remember.
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Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 12:54 PM UTC
Parliament Hill
When this madness first set in It only made sense To search out a good diagnostician Trustingly sharing my story With strangers with degrees Quickly realizing no clinician   Could fix what's alien me I search for someone wise and trained Instead I found myself slowly drowning In a system of judgmental rain   My very heart and soul an open subject Sharing my uncommon delusions Over and over explaining My poetic conclusions Yet those who have never ever lived a rhyme Are prone to leave the unexplained behind Who simply label you from a book Quickly stop reading and give you that look A book of broken soul’s They write ya a prescription and send ya home ...............................................................................
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Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 10:08 AM UTC
AMNESIA 2
The rain, makes my grass glow fluorescent green, and grow like it’s on steroids. Love, makes my heart a mix of hyper-serene, like out-of-water chimaeroids. How do we ride these natural phenomena? Trustingly —
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Sep 18, 2025
Sep 18, 2025 at 3:18 PM UTC
Riding the rain
I listen to the whine of time That goes in a line, a climb, A silent sign wave; fine Resonant and resilient, Nearly sentient, it reminds Of times of meditation, Of peaceful celebration Like music with no beat, No melody and no lyrics No clerics can well describe. Whatever remains of before I ignore; ideas like yesterday Which is to say tomorrow, Bring no sorrow here, no joy. They are a ploy to change, To rearrange the apogee Of this lovely inner symphony And bribe me with self-pity In sympathy with some dream Which once made me scream. I imbibe in the circumstance, A chance to muse on forever; Words like never and regret I forget and only think of serenity. A rarity; an affinity with infinity Entices me to surrender instantly Serendipitously and trustingly, Just me and the universe Chapter and verse, still unwritten, Unbidden, I surrender.
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May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 6:58 AM UTC
MIND MUSIC
I see you in the steam I know you’re not waiting for me And it breaks my heart And I don’t understand I feel you getting close I wish I could trustingly know what you see when you stare head on Are you thinking of me? Or would it break my heart? I just don’t understand I hear you- all the lies you’ve said to me hang on to your every word until it breaks my heart Do you understand?
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Jul 4, 2023
Jul 4, 2023 at 5:08 PM UTC
downside
I want to sleep on the surface tension of your perilous love. Willingly submitting my entire being on a paper-thin layer, separating me from your overwhelming abyss. Trustingly allowing my heart, as it falls off my chest, to be consumed by your drowning affection.
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Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 3:29 AM UTC
Sleeping on your chest
It's hilarious Just think about our past... the disadvantageous arguments Arguments about things that we would soon know It taught us about the future We were disconnected, probably still are Just because of closed hearts and minds... And I'm not afraid to say, a little jealousy on my part... We were young and thought we knew everything about each other. We were disconnected, yet deep down in our unknowingly vast souls, we were the same. I was thinking about those fights we used to have... I reminisced about the day after your tenth birthday, when we were walking to school and you felt older, much like you do know, you felt proud to be older, I remembered that I was jealous and insisting that you were being mean. I remember your face when I said these things, and I felt guilty, you have one of those enforcing faces that told me that I was wrong. I remember that one day we were fighting one morning at the bus stop, as we always did. After school, you fought Benny, remember him? We hadn't made amends yet, but I knew that you needed my support, and frankly, I needed yours... so I cried because I felt helpless but you stared trustingly straight into my soul, creepily I might add, and you told me to kick that **** in the face... but I trusted your judgment because you're my older brother and I love you! to this day I don't know if I actually kicked him, but I do remember that we ran home and we were as close as we'd ever been. I remember those times, and I can't help but laugh, and smile, and cry. I feel like lately our relationship has been kind of forced because we HAD to get along... but I feel like, if we talk more, like we used to... we could get our groove back. :) I know this isn't a very rhythmic poem... but HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I love you Ethan!
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Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 5:50 PM UTC
Happy Birthday Brother ♥ ~ March 14th 9:05pm
It's hilarious Just think about our past... the disadvantageous arguments Arguments about things that we would soon know It taught us about the future We were disconnected, probably still are Just because of closed hearts and minds... And I'm not afraid to say, a little jealousy on my part... We were young and thought we knew everything about each other. We were disconnected, yet deep down in our unknowingly vast souls, we were the same. I was thinking about those fights we used to have... I reminisced about the day after your tenth birthday, when we were walking to school and you felt older, much like you do know, you felt proud to be older, I remembered that I was jealous and insisting that you were being mean. I remember your face when I said these things, and I felt guilty, you have one of those enforcing faces that told me that I was wrong. I remember that one day we were fighting one morning at the bus stop, as we always did. After school, you fought Benny, remember him? We hadn't made amends yet, but I knew that you needed my support, and frankly, I needed yours... so I cried because I felt helpless but you stared trustingly straight into my soul, creepily I might add, and you told me to kick that **** in the face... but I trusted your judgment because you're my older brother and I love you! to this day I don't know if I actually kicked him, but I do remember that we ran home and we were as close as we'd ever been. I remember those times, and I can't help but laugh, and smile, and cry. I feel like lately our relationship has been kind of forced because we HAD to get along... but I feel like, if we talk more, like we used to... we could get our groove back. :) I know this isn't a very rhythmic poem... but HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I love you Ethan!
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For you, i slowly unwinded time to hand you a thread, the labyrinth where you trustingly unravel your heart. For you, i hush the spindle in my empty hands that will weave no more, the thread this whirl, and i fade, as i let time rewind.
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Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 5:15 PM UTC
Ariadne's
*She'll probably never know the depth of my affection Because I too hasn't come close to its discovery She doesn't realize how much I crave her attention That her absence is illness and her presence recovery She cannot tell the thing that loves her is just close Because her favorite obsession is miles away The reason behind her Heart's closed doors So that desolation is her annual pay and she underscores whatever I say She might never realize that true love was underneath her eyes While she strained them peering beyond the horizons Yet that far can cloak in the skin of truth, lies But I understand every beating Heart's got her own reasons She might never feel the warmth of my passion Because she trustingly and truly belongs to a better person*
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Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 2:31 AM UTC
THE DEPTH
Tender cat Delicately ponders Lovingly sits Playfully wanders Carefully prances Silently advances Enamouredly dances Eating my glasses... Cautiously stalks Trustingly snuggles My cat (:
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Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 3:32 PM UTC
Playful
Naive Gullible Ignorant Meaningless to you, are the few morals I care to Voice to you. Trust- The little that was there just got swept up By the lies or misrepresented information you so Proudly And adamantly Assured me were to be true Who are you to decide the outcome of my body? You can not trick me into doing things your way. .... It's my fault, for being so gullible and trustingly With something so precious as another life being Brought into this ****** up and twisted world It takes two to tango and you do not get to dangle Me around and control me like a ******* puppet **** it I not overreacting-- How dare you speak of instructions or give me Advice- and it be untrue?? Perhaps I would not jump to accusation If you did not become immediately defensive and Try to convince me to have your way of thinking! Deception It's all becoming So clear. Accusation And admissions of your little games. Now you are playing with tiny lives and unborn souls Emotions are now frozen. I am not as dumb as you may think This ship is about to sink. To be honest- judging by your actions it may Already have sunk Now this raft is deflating As your respect and common sense is depleting And my common sense seeps out just as my heart bleeding... 11-30-2014 Rhea Bryan
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Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 6:46 AM UTC
Your deception
How often have I shouted you down Hurling words of absolute certainty Against the softness of your sweet face? Sending shards of shame As sharp as slivered glass Into the moist, pink pleading of your heart? How harshly have I rejected The silent questions flowing From pools of blue water Feeling only my own self-centered And childish need? How trustingly you turned day after day Seeking the light of love. How frequently did the ice of denial and distraction Freeze your soul, sending you fleeing To worlds better left untouched? How can God love this soul of mine, This very soul that caused so much pain? How can you? Thank God for Love Thank God for you Forgiveness is the foremost lesson in life. I forgive them. You forgive me. God forgives us all.
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Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 8:56 AM UTC
HOW?
in my hands I hold the remains of a gift once freely given and received unprotestingly this gift, the only thing worth giving. pure, whole. the only thing to offer. given willingly, prayerfully, trustingly. it was meant to be cherished respected, protected. nurtured and grown. then my trust was betrayed, broken, abandoned now I feel I can never, ever let someone promise to cherish and protect me for now I find that all that remains, are remains JCM 2013 ©
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Mar 22, 2013
Mar 22, 2013 at 12:15 AM UTC
In my hands
How can a lie make the whole world cry, yet they claim there is nothing to see, where nefarious knaves and the covetous crave beneath covers so stealthily, free? No thought for the plebs as they weave dangerous webs in a world already complex, where the sins of the saints have done nothing but taint, confuse, deceive and perplex. To forgive and forget, is to aid and abet the demons, content in their ways, as they deftly defile and sneeringly smile at the lies from our earliest days. To be taught as a child, there is one who beguiles; a one that is two and then three, is a criminal act and insidious pact to enslave the ones who were free. Our children were taught not to give a clear thought as to how it was all s’posed to work, so they trustingly took from the ones who forsook and replied with barely a smirk. They were used and abused, bewildered, confused, then cast aside on their quest, told to get on with life under threat of the knife, for the Robed Ones always knew best. And the tears and the cries from damp bloodshot eyes, can be seen again and again as the torment goes on, from The Father to Son, leaving streaks of soul numbing pain. So when will it end; when can children depend on the adults they were once taught to trust? When will all the lies, causing deep hidden cries, be brought to the men who are just? Let them rattle the cage with a long concealed rage and ask those monsters to tell, how an innocent child can be fiercely defiled and yet kneel ‘neath the chime of their bell? Then once and for all watch them stumble and fall as down to the cells they are led, with long restless nights, shallow sleep and no rights; watch them cowering deep in their beds. Let the bells peal out loud as we look ‘neath the shrouds and tally the terrible toll, of the heart-wrenching cries of so many sad eyes, as The Lie is revealed to us all. Written by Darren Scanlon, 18th June 2014. Revised 16th June 2015. ©2015 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.
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Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 12:22 PM UTC
THE LIE
How can a lie make the whole world cry, yet they claim there is nothing to see, where nefarious knaves and the covetous crave beneath covers so stealthily, free? No thought for the plebs as they weave dangerous webs in a world already complex, where the sins of the saints have done nothing but taint, confuse, deceive and perplex. To forgive and forget, is to aid and abet the demons, content in their ways, as they deftly defile and sneeringly smile at the lies from our earliest days. To be taught as a child, there is one who beguiles; a one that is two and then three, is a criminal act and insidious pact to enslave the ones who were free. Our children were taught not to give a clear thought as to how it was all s’posed to work, so they trustingly took from the ones who forsook and replied with barely a smirk. They were used and abused, bewildered, confused, then cast aside on their quest, told to get on with life under threat of the knife, for the Robed Ones always knew best. And the tears and the cries from damp bloodshot eyes, can be seen again and again as the torment goes on, from The Father to Son, leaving streaks of soul numbing pain. So when will it end; when can children depend on the adults they were once taught to trust? When will all the lies, causing deep hidden cries, be brought to the men who are just? Let them rattle the cage with a long concealed rage and ask those monsters to tell, how an innocent child can be fiercely defiled and yet kneel ‘neath the chime of their bell? Then once and for all watch them stumble and fall as down to the cells they are led, with long restless nights, shallow sleep and no rights; watch them cowering deep in their beds. Let the bells peal out loud as we look ‘neath the shrouds and tally the terrible toll, of the heart-wrenching cries of so many sad eyes, as The Lie is revealed to us all. Written by Darren Scanlon, 18th June 2014. Revised 16th June 2015. ©2015 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.
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We live a life, of a path unknown. We take a hand, a trusting lead - the way they'll show. But sometimes the hand, we trustingly take, teaches a lesson that one, one to shake. Some are kind, and beautiful souls. Some are blind, taking untenable tolls. If you find one, of angelic form, Give it devotion, and always keep warm.
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Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 9:01 PM UTC
To Hold
/:\ \:/ • And As the the ONE DAY offers Itself • (ALL of itself) • AND --- YOU TOO --- ARE OFFERED (All of yourself) • And the WHOLENESS of the story is revealed •• Lo! And the imagination Is freed From the chains of false and faulty Obligations •• And (Lo!) Real people appear From within the flim - flam and the deceit •• And everything you ever wanted is offered freely ( as you offer yourself freely ) •• For every hand so many ******* appear For every heart 1000 smiling faces •• (For every YOU -- a ME) • And we are truly united And the FOE is not feared •• Do you really accept that EVIL has strength? That love causes pain? •• Do you debase yourself so To Hold such beliefs That make you docile and weak? •• Come ! It's easier to simply live truthfully Trustingly Generously •• •• We are together forever Our very presence Does the eternal peace proclaim
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Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 5:39 PM UTC
my love is stronger than all hate
Why am I so "negative?" Strangers sometimes ask. "I'm like a battery out of juice." "Give me a positive jump" "See the energy run free and loose." Often I walk down crowded streets and I am glad to remain "unseen." The times those I trust "go blind" And fail "simple promises" I feel like a "medieval fool...." "Maybe it's because I've been too kind." No. It's the mishandling of Care's powerful tool." "You can attract more flies with honey." So does fertilizer and money. Being kind is a gift. Generosity and loyalty are miracles. If one wishes to add another to befriend Or to aid in a cause.. . It sparks energies in both. Like a battery It needs positive and negative charges To sustain it's production. Like a failed trust or failed communication It drains the battery dry. The empty shell lingers unresponsive Until another stops simply to value such As a valuable part To their life Moments charge the trust.. A power that cannot be measured by much Instruments of power. Without caretaking equal to both parts Or terminals Energies abound when carelessly given The charge shorts out the beautiful union the friendship machine remains broken and discharged It loses its power. Until the next movement of energies are balanced Thoughtfully ..... Trustingly .... Unselfishly.. For what they are, Maintained of their charge The battery cannot start the engines of another moment Together Friendship's transport A fast and quite valuable sports car.
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Aug 19, 2017
Aug 19, 2017 at 10:54 PM UTC
Battery
Walk the distance of your reach Did you have time to blink There’s an ache we are born with It represents those we have lost And those we never got Mark your weight on your way The journey might make you stay In mind is all I need Only if you let me see Will I take your hand trustingly Give me the power and shape That forms my world in depth And I will argue my case Until the last bird flies Above our heads and hands
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Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 8:17 PM UTC
Let go of my hand
Consciousness finally puts its foot down dictating, termination of frivolous stubborn passions, unilaterally composing wistful notes of lust, curiosity and fantasy in broadcasted virtual reality. Sprang from the enigmatic encounter of a stranger unknown, fascination swiftly dressed in seemingly harmless obsession, longing for ethereal inkless words deprived of nobility, stripped of their paper suit and orphaned by a faceless author. No signature or stamp required, as they evanescently disappear in the gluttony web of a careless spider, feeding on them as if they had no value, reminding me indeed they have lost their worth, the day they lost their colour. Consciousness finally puts its foot down, dictating termination of frivolous stubborn passions as I trustingly waited for it to do so.
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Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 2:36 AM UTC
Stubborn Passions
got what he wanted at my expense. Said crack fast talking hacker and scammer pulled figurative wool over my eyes going incognito and speaking a clipped English mien his disguise. He appeared (rather sounded) genuine after yours truly experienced computer snafu (the Macbook Pro essentially hogtied courtesy virus that disabled any activity) even turning the laptop off then on only wrought frustration to boot. An out of state Apple computer technical support person impersonator (imposter invariably linkedin to aforementioned fraudster - most likely brother in arms) answered telephone number provided on the screen. Admonitions against sharing details about case in point, whereby cyberpunk donned many hats to convince me serious computer virus, malware, trojan horse, et cetera counterbalanced with voice on other end affecting sedulousness to "listen carefully" and carry forth the following commands. Yours truly trustingly, passively, meekly, et cetera (though feeling jittery) carried out the repeated instructions, which charlatan inveighed against speaking softly (in retrospect, I ought to have carried a big stick), indicating (as if held at gunpoint) to headout off to the Trappe branch of Citizens Banks and withdraw cash all the while recording verbal dialogue with small, medium at large criminal (the scam artist(s) in question). Upon retrieving legal tender (quite a *** thee next entrapment entailed driving to closest ATM machine, an MP gas station/convenience store in Collegeville to convert high denomination bills (a considerable number of money crisp Benjamins) into bitcoin cryptocurrency then hightailing back to where I live, an assisted living facility named Highland Manor. Finally, the schmegegge script (incorporating ejaculations that questionable hacker convinced me to swallow hook, line and sinker) alluded to strong likelihood scam artist lurked in close proximity to above named banking institution, which divine comedy bumbling Ace of spades, an inept card shark anagram name Meg Found left as crypto clue told.
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Jun 25, 2023
Jun 25, 2023 at 1:09 PM UTC
The creep (alias Harvey Specter)...
got what he wanted at my expense. Said crack fast talking hacker and scammer pulled figurative wool over my eyes going incognito and speaking a clipped English mien his disguise. He appeared (rather sounded) genuine after yours truly experienced computer snafu (the Macbook Pro essentially hogtied courtesy virus that disabled any activity) even turning the laptop off then on only wrought frustration to boot. An out of state Apple computer technical support person impersonator (imposter invariably linkedin to aforementioned fraudster - most likely brother in arms) answered telephone number provided on the screen. Admonitions against sharing details about case in point, whereby cyberpunk donned many hats to convince me serious computer virus, malware, trojan horse, et cetera counterbalanced with voice on other end affecting sedulousness to "listen carefully" and carry forth the following commands. Yours truly trustingly, passively, meekly, et cetera (though feeling jittery) carried out the repeated instructions, which charlatan inveighed against speaking softly (in retrospect, I ought to have carried a big stick), indicating (as if held at gunpoint) to headout off to the Trappe branch of Citizens Banks and withdraw cash all the while recording verbal dialogue with small, medium at large criminal (the scam artist(s) in question). Upon retrieving legal tender (quite a *** thee next entrapment entailed driving to closest ATM machine, an MP gas station/convenience store in Collegeville to convert high denomination bills (a considerable number of money crisp Benjamins) into bitcoin cryptocurrency then hightailing back to where I live, an assisted living facility named Highland Manor. Finally, the schmegegge script (incorporating ejaculations that questionable hacker convinced me to swallow hook, line and sinker) alluded to strong likelihood scam artist lurked in close proximity to above named banking institution, which divine comedy bumbling Ace of spades, an inept card shark anagram name Meg Found left as crypto clue told.
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