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"trusts" poems
a man is not a man if he believes he has to be superior over a woman to achieve her love, a man is a man if he believes in letting a woman decide for herself who she wants to be, a man is not a man if he believes control will make a woman stay, a man is a man if he believes letting a woman choose what she wants to do will make her stay, a man is not a man if he does not believe in giving a woman a choice in her free time, will make her feel safe, a man is man if he believes that letting a woman do whatever the hell she wants in her free time to make her happy will make her love him more and feel safe, a man is not a man if he believes that forbidding a woman to meet with other males, even just friends will make her stay, a man is a man if he trusts a woman, regardless of how long the relationship, that she will not cheat by giving her the choice of who she wants to meet, will make her stay,   a man is not a man if he constantly refers to a woman as only useful in reproduction, a man is a man if he believes that a woman was created for other things too, a man is not a man if he believes that a woman should be devoted to the kitchen and household, a man is a man if he believes that letting a woman choose how she wants to keep herself busy will make her feel valued,   a man is not a man if he believes a woman is only useful for his needs, wants, and desires, a man is a man if he believes that being with a woman is not only about objectification, sexualization, reproductive control and male privilege.
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Nov 16, 2020
Nov 16, 2020 at 1:35 PM UTC
a man is (not) a man
a man is not a man if he believes he has to be superior over a woman to achieve her love, a man is a man if he believes in letting a woman decide for herself who she wants to be, a man is not a man if he believes control will make a woman stay, a man is a man if he believes letting a woman choose what she wants to do will make her stay, a man is not a man if he does not believe in giving a woman a choice in her free time, will make her feel safe, a man is man if he believes that letting a woman do whatever the hell she wants in her free time to make her happy will make her love him more and feel safe, a man is not a man if he believes that forbidding a woman to meet with other males, even just friends will make her stay, a man is a man if he trusts a woman, regardless of how long the relationship, that she will not cheat by giving her the choice of who she wants to meet, will make her stay,   a man is not a man if he constantly refers to a woman as only useful in reproduction, a man is a man if he believes that a woman was created for other things too, a man is not a man if he believes that a woman should be devoted to the kitchen and household, a man is a man if he believes that letting a woman choose how she wants to keep herself busy will make her feel valued,   a man is not a man if he believes a woman is only useful for his needs, wants, and desires, a man is a man if he believes that being with a woman is not only about objectification, sexualization, reproductive control and male privilege.
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14
it's cold and dark and calm outside so you make sure that i'm tucked up tight but i need fresh air so the window is open ajar whilst there in the corner lays a battered guitar i'm high as hell so you carried me home and wrapped me up into a bed of your own you throw a lumpy mattress by the guitar on your floor and apologise in advance for the fact that you snore because i can't even remember my name may give the green light to most, to see me as 'fair game' my hair is a mess and my clothes are askew but that doesn't seem to matter to you i'm taken aback as you toss me a shirt you try to stifle your laugh but i catch you smirk as i try to escape from the clutch of my dress i hear a laugh which you fail to suppress i wrestle your shirt with my limbs in a tangle you yank it over my head, for which i am thankful i wriggle free from the blanket and sit up cross legged as you fling yourself down at the foot of your bed you tell me you've just got a text from my mother who says she trusts me with you and no other and that you are under very strict instructions to keep me away from all teenage destruction it's 1.30am and my thoughts are cotton wool but our bottle of ***** is still three quarters full my eyes spy the battered guitar in the room and i beg you to play me my favourite tune an undeniably slow start as you mess up the chords and ramble on about how i'm probably bored but my eyes fix on yours with an encouraging grin and as you continue to play, goosebumps rise on my skin and as you place the battered guitar back down you sarcastically ask whether i'm happy now the buzz of my body and the smile on my face shows that here, happiness is truly the case
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May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 6:17 PM UTC
a case of happiness
it's cold and dark and calm outside so you make sure that i'm tucked up tight but i need fresh air so the window is open ajar whilst there in the corner lays a battered guitar i'm high as hell so you carried me home and wrapped me up into a bed of your own you throw a lumpy mattress by the guitar on your floor and apologise in advance for the fact that you snore because i can't even remember my name may give the green light to most, to see me as 'fair game' my hair is a mess and my clothes are askew but that doesn't seem to matter to you i'm taken aback as you toss me a shirt you try to stifle your laugh but i catch you smirk as i try to escape from the clutch of my dress i hear a laugh which you fail to suppress i wrestle your shirt with my limbs in a tangle you yank it over my head, for which i am thankful i wriggle free from the blanket and sit up cross legged as you fling yourself down at the foot of your bed you tell me you've just got a text from my mother who says she trusts me with you and no other and that you are under very strict instructions to keep me away from all teenage destruction it's 1.30am and my thoughts are cotton wool but our bottle of ***** is still three quarters full my eyes spy the battered guitar in the room and i beg you to play me my favourite tune an undeniably slow start as you mess up the chords and ramble on about how i'm probably bored but my eyes fix on yours with an encouraging grin and as you continue to play, goosebumps rise on my skin and as you place the battered guitar back down you sarcastically ask whether i'm happy now the buzz of my body and the smile on my face shows that here, happiness is truly the case
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36
She walks by without a clue Her bubbly personality and bright *** shoes Laughter gush and spills, free and loose Joyous even in the way she moves She wears the world as hot as red lipstick Explores herself and what’s not listed Follows the rules but just has to break them Sings in the night, when no one listens The sun comes out when she’s ready to play Curls bounce as she walks my way She doesn't even know Has never been touched with a lovers kiss But she loves deeper than anyone I have met Cares so deep, hugs so sure Trusts so venerable, loyal for sure She isn’t the rainbow A color undiscovered The flavor of happy, the taste of song Flies like a bird, dancing in the lawn Climbing trees, hanging in the park Sharing her stories, girl likes to talk' She doesn't even know that she is My shining star, little piece of bliss Showing the way when things get hard Laughing when I cry Cry when I laugh so hard She doesn't even know She’s my window in to happy When it’s no ware else to be found My excitement when my life is turned upside down Noise that needs to happen Hug I need to have Person I know will be there The smiles that’s for sure Liesel you’re my happy pill The one for sure cure.
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Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 12:05 AM UTC
Liesel Love, my happy pill
Fear, Is a battle. Fear is a Disease. My disease. Fear, puts me in places, That I know I shouldn't be in. Like I woke up in a dark attic, not knowing how I got there, or why. See, it's not...things...I'm afraid of. It's not people, or pain, or injury, or death. Fear puts thoughts in you, that are totally and completely out of character, until they begin changing how you define yourself. I am, The fearful. I am, The untrusting. Trust and fear come hand in hand, but purvey the opposite effects of one another. Trust, puts fear to sleep. A silent, peaceful slumber. A place fear would rather be anyway. Trust allows you to see what is hopefully the truth in others. Ah...you see. "Hopefully." There is that little seed of doubt. Fear is the abusive sibling of the relationship. Always hanging over trust's shoulder, whispering worst-case scenarios in his ear. In mine, it takes trust's confidence and gently, throws it into the nearest garbage can. Trust is powerful. But fear cuts deep. When trust, faith, in someone is broken... Well...we've all been there at some point. When trust is broken, he half-heartedly stumbles to his bed, and stays there. Not asleep. Just, broken. At this point fear doesn't have to do a thing. Anytime you look inside yourself, since trust is gone, the only thing left is fear, just...sitting there. Normally trust...gets up and brushes himself off to try again, especially with the help of friends. But, in a few of us... In a few of us, trust falls asleep, and disappears. Hope, the half-sibling tries and tries to wake him up, to no avail. Trust is gone. Fear just sits there. Doing nothing, but doing everything. Hope is a stubborn one, and pushes, and pushes, and pushes. Sometimes it works. Sometimes, it doesn't. Fear. Trust. They walk, hand in hand. Toe, to toe. I am, The fearful. I am, The untrusting. Hope, through valiant effort, keeps on trying. Her energy is not limitless. At times like these... Hope, is not enough. Trust has died. The only way, to restore the balance, Is for another's heart to come forth, and share their trust. It's not fair, asking your trust to keep my fear in check, as well as yours, It just isn't. At times like these, I need the trust of someone, Who is willing to share, With one, who trusts no one.
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Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 8:44 PM UTC
A Story of Fear, Trust, and Hope.
Fear, Is a battle. Fear is a Disease. My disease. Fear, puts me in places, That I know I shouldn't be in. Like I woke up in a dark attic, not knowing how I got there, or why. See, it's not...things...I'm afraid of. It's not people, or pain, or injury, or death. Fear puts thoughts in you, that are totally and completely out of character, until they begin changing how you define yourself. I am, The fearful. I am, The untrusting. Trust and fear come hand in hand, but purvey the opposite effects of one another. Trust, puts fear to sleep. A silent, peaceful slumber. A place fear would rather be anyway. Trust allows you to see what is hopefully the truth in others. Ah...you see. "Hopefully." There is that little seed of doubt. Fear is the abusive sibling of the relationship. Always hanging over trust's shoulder, whispering worst-case scenarios in his ear. In mine, it takes trust's confidence and gently, throws it into the nearest garbage can. Trust is powerful. But fear cuts deep. When trust, faith, in someone is broken... Well...we've all been there at some point. When trust is broken, he half-heartedly stumbles to his bed, and stays there. Not asleep. Just, broken. At this point fear doesn't have to do a thing. Anytime you look inside yourself, since trust is gone, the only thing left is fear, just...sitting there. Normally trust...gets up and brushes himself off to try again, especially with the help of friends. But, in a few of us... In a few of us, trust falls asleep, and disappears. Hope, the half-sibling tries and tries to wake him up, to no avail. Trust is gone. Fear just sits there. Doing nothing, but doing everything. Hope is a stubborn one, and pushes, and pushes, and pushes. Sometimes it works. Sometimes, it doesn't. Fear. Trust. They walk, hand in hand. Toe, to toe. I am, The fearful. I am, The untrusting. Hope, through valiant effort, keeps on trying. Her energy is not limitless. At times like these... Hope, is not enough. Trust has died. The only way, to restore the balance, Is for another's heart to come forth, and share their trust. It's not fair, asking your trust to keep my fear in check, as well as yours, It just isn't. At times like these, I need the trust of someone, Who is willing to share, With one, who trusts no one.
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53
Fear and panic sweep over me. I need to move but I'm paralyzed by my need for normalcy. One pop of a pill and it will drift away, and I will sleep. But sleep is for the weak, or is sleep for the week? That's what my body bounces back and forth between. There is no middle. No start. Eventually an End. The inner meaning of desire bounces from my heart to my head, as if it is the ball in a pin ball machine. I try to fight off this anxious feeling, though it is a chemical imbalance in my brain. Why do I fight with the chemicals in my body? I fight to feel normal. I fight to not rely on a simple pop of a pill that my doctor gives me. She tells me to take it when I need it, she trusts me. Sometimes I feel that trust is too much. Because this anxiety is a metaphor for life, and I know that problems cannot be solved, by one simple solution. I fight to be strong.
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Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 12:51 PM UTC
Metaphor for life
Love trusts, lust twists Love rains, lust drains Love reaches, lust catches Love couples, lust combines Love retains, lust detains Love relies, lust relays Love cares, lust caresses Love binds, lust blinds Love floats, lust flees Love belongs, lust longs Love ascends, lust descends Love fames, lust defames Love creates, lust recreates Love commands, lust demands Love chooses, lust chases Love boosts,  lust boasts Love at heart Lust in mind Love in lust is good Lust in love is better    Love likes privacy Lust looks for piracy Love opens lust Lust closes love Love is slow, lust is fast Love is steady and stable Lust is mobile and fragile Love is reliable, lust is liable Love is long, lust is short    Love is homogeneous Lust is heterogeneous Love is defensive Lust is offensive    Love is precious Lust is pernicious Love is supportive Lust is supplementary    Love is refined Lust is defined Love betters life Lust batters it.    Love has character Lust has conduct Love wins over Lust weans out    Love combines Lust divides Love is cool Lust is crazy Love is peaceful Lust is pleasant    Love is wholesome Lust is piecemeal Lust comes first Love becomes best Love is progressive Lust is aggressive Lust laminates Love illuminates Love is slow n steady Lust is hasty n nasty Love is dense, lust is tense Lust is conditioned, Love is air-conditioned    Lust is lovely to begin with Love is lustrous to end up Love heals, lust wounds Love owns, lust disowns    Love is onus, lust is onerous Love is basic, lust is allowance Love conforms, lust confuses Love binds, lust blinds Be aware of love Beware of lust That comes like wolf in sheep’s clothing Let the fair blend of love and lust rule  the roost
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Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 5:15 AM UTC
Dynamics of love
Love trusts, lust twists Love rains, lust drains Love reaches, lust catches Love couples, lust combines Love retains, lust detains Love relies, lust relays Love cares, lust caresses Love binds, lust blinds Love floats, lust flees Love belongs, lust longs Love ascends, lust descends Love fames, lust defames Love creates, lust recreates Love commands, lust demands Love chooses, lust chases Love boosts,  lust boasts Love at heart Lust in mind Love in lust is good Lust in love is better    Love likes privacy Lust looks for piracy Love opens lust Lust closes love Love is slow, lust is fast Love is steady and stable Lust is mobile and fragile Love is reliable, lust is liable Love is long, lust is short    Love is homogeneous Lust is heterogeneous Love is defensive Lust is offensive    Love is precious Lust is pernicious Love is supportive Lust is supplementary    Love is refined Lust is defined Love betters life Lust batters it.    Love has character Lust has conduct Love wins over Lust weans out    Love combines Lust divides Love is cool Lust is crazy Love is peaceful Lust is pleasant    Love is wholesome Lust is piecemeal Lust comes first Love becomes best Love is progressive Lust is aggressive Lust laminates Love illuminates Love is slow n steady Lust is hasty n nasty Love is dense, lust is tense Lust is conditioned, Love is air-conditioned    Lust is lovely to begin with Love is lustrous to end up Love heals, lust wounds Love owns, lust disowns    Love is onus, lust is onerous Love is basic, lust is allowance Love conforms, lust confuses Love binds, lust blinds Be aware of love Beware of lust That comes like wolf in sheep’s clothing Let the fair blend of love and lust rule  the roost
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79
She’s born a girl But knows not what fear is She wonders in her sleep ‘How great would it be If I was born a boy When in need of strength The hidden is stronger When in need of support The trust comes forward Just why was I not born a boy’ But she does not complain Only dreams in her sleep, She live the life of liberty Just like those creatures, Soaring through the skies She loves the world, She trusts herself, She believes in power, Within herself She’s a Strong Willed Girl.
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Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 4:30 AM UTC
Strong Willed Girl
I need more intimacy, Wanna feel someone else's flesh and skin and hairs under my hands Look into their eyes and know their body trusts me, Know every single inch of ugly scars and hidden acnea, protruding bones and round stomach, Wanna kiss, grab, tear apart and let the soft animals we are take over for once, Worship, Be worshipped, Trust and be trusted, Need to be pinned down like a ragdoll, Be touched like a craving man i want it all, And maybe i do want it with you.
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Jan 25, 2021
Jan 25, 2021 at 6:06 PM UTC
Late bloom
The rainbow is still black and white, Pitched in various hues, Vibrant black and sullen whites, Blending with the blackness inside. Replete with broken trusts, Reflecting a thousand shattered pieces, Fading out like these emotions, It never lived the light of dawn.
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Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 8:39 AM UTC
Black Rainbow.
When I close my eyes, the sight of you appears I learnt to build my thoughts around you When you look at me and smile now I wonder how we made it so many years. A man is one who loves his girl Treats her with respect and plays with her Trusts her no matter the world flips sides Shows her how much he needs her. Shares every secret every thought with her Stands by her when she in doubt Helps her make the right decision Fixes her mood when it’s out Cuddles her when she is sad and low Troubles her to get her attention Pretends to be angry with her Just so she showers him with kisses... Sings to her to show how much he loves her Helps her cook when guests are home Jokes he cracks to make her laugh Never would he even by mistake make her cry Compliments her for the smallest of things Remembers her in his busiest of hours Tells her he loves her before she sleeps Just to wake up with her kiss on his cheek... Walks with her holding hands Gives her hugs and kisses unplanned... Is naughty with her when she’s happy Does all this with his heart and mind. Assures her she is beautiful, pretty and hot Is dedicated to her like a sage Messes with her emotions now and then, But gives her the love she craves. .. Wonder how many such men were ever made? God creates for each one a soul mate Wonder if these thoughts would just remain thoughts But thank-god I am blessed with the perfect man of this age.  :)
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Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 11:17 PM UTC
THE PERFECT MAN
The First Joyful Mystery: The Annunciation: The angel Gabriel appears to Mary, announcing she is to be the Mother of God Mary is represented by the church. The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit may be compared to an orange in that they are three parts, but the same fruit or nature. Peel, pulp/meat, and seeds. Jesus is the seeds that God put in Mary, the church and later Mary gives birth to Jesus. The angel Gabriel appears to Mary and tells her she is the Mother of God. Mary follows God’s will at all times like the church listens to God. Mary is very afraid, but trusts God and goes out to share the good news with her best friend, and cousin, Elizabeth. We pray Hail Mary full of grace, blessed are you indeed in many ways. Your immaculate conception, your carrying of Jesus in your womb, your being chosen to bear our savior. Oh holy Mother of God, pray for us sinners from our first cry to our final breath. Amen
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Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 12:36 AM UTC
Meditations and Reflections on the Mysteries of the Holy Rosary (The Joyful Mysteries)
My Father gave me wisdom and scriptures for my heart. My Mother put in practice the love that God imparts. By watching how she lives her love and How Gods light so shines, and seeing the peace within her heart, I wanted that for mine. Never boastful nor judgemental I have never heard her yell She will quote a verse to ease your pain, She knows them all so well. No problem overtakes her His promises she trusts She lives to do his will because she loves Him oh so much She's a quiet overcomer An example for us all When I need an inspiration, I know just who to call. My Mother may not ever know The seeds of faith she sows How many souls she wins for God as through her life she goes She's a living testimony And when her time on Earth is gone I, for one, will be there To hear God say "Well Done" 2/19/95 mln My Father gave me wisdom and scriptures for my heart. My Mother put in practice the love that God imparts. By watching how she lives her love and How Gods light so shines, and seeing the peace within her heart, I wanted that for mine. Never boastful nor judgemental I have never heard her yell She will quote a verse to ease your pain, She knows them all so well. No problem overtakes her His promises she trusts She lives to do his will because she loves Him oh so much She's a quiet overcomer An example for us all When I need an inspiration, I know just who to call. My Mother may not ever know The seeds of faith she sows How many souls she wins for God as through her life she goes She's a living testimony And when her time on Earth is gone I, for one, will be there To hear God say "Well Done" 2/19/95 mln My Father gave me wisdom and scriptures for my heart. My Mother put in practice the love that God imparts. By watching how she lives her love and How Gods light so shines, and seeing the peace within her heart, I wanted that for mine. Never boastful nor judgemental I have never heard her yell She will quote a verse to ease your pain, She knows them all so well. No problem overtakes her His promises she trusts She lives to do his will because she loves Him oh so much She's a quiet overcomer An example for us all When I need an inspiration, I know just who to call. My Mother may not ever know The seeds of faith she sows How many souls she wins for God as through her life she goes She's a living testimony And when her time on Earth is gone I, for one, will be there To hear God say "Well Done" 2/19/95 mln My Father gave me wisdom and scriptures for my heart. My Mother put in practice the love that God imparts. By watching how she lives her love and How Gods light so shines, and seeing the peace within her heart, I wanted that for mine. Never boastful nor judgemental I have never heard her yell She will quote a verse to ease your pain, She knows them all so well. No problem overtakes her His promises she trusts She lives to do his will because she loves Him oh so much She's a quiet overcomer An example for us all When I need an inspiration, I know just who to call. My Mother may not ever know The seeds of faith she sows How many souls she wins for God as through her life she goes She's a living testimony And when her time on Earth is gone I, for one, will be there To hear God say "Well Done"
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Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 12:30 AM UTC
For Mother.
My Father gave me wisdom and scriptures for my heart. My Mother put in practice the love that God imparts. By watching how she lives her love and How Gods light so shines, and seeing the peace within her heart, I wanted that for mine. Never boastful nor judgemental I have never heard her yell She will quote a verse to ease your pain, She knows them all so well. No problem overtakes her His promises she trusts She lives to do his will because she loves Him oh so much She's a quiet overcomer An example for us all When I need an inspiration, I know just who to call. My Mother may not ever know The seeds of faith she sows How many souls she wins for God as through her life she goes She's a living testimony And when her time on Earth is gone I, for one, will be there To hear God say "Well Done" 2/19/95 mln My Father gave me wisdom and scriptures for my heart. My Mother put in practice the love that God imparts. By watching how she lives her love and How Gods light so shines, and seeing the peace within her heart, I wanted that for mine. Never boastful nor judgemental I have never heard her yell She will quote a verse to ease your pain, She knows them all so well. No problem overtakes her His promises she trusts She lives to do his will because she loves Him oh so much She's a quiet overcomer An example for us all When I need an inspiration, I know just who to call. My Mother may not ever know The seeds of faith she sows How many souls she wins for God as through her life she goes She's a living testimony And when her time on Earth is gone I, for one, will be there To hear God say "Well Done" 2/19/95 mln My Father gave me wisdom and scriptures for my heart. My Mother put in practice the love that God imparts. By watching how she lives her love and How Gods light so shines, and seeing the peace within her heart, I wanted that for mine. Never boastful nor judgemental I have never heard her yell She will quote a verse to ease your pain, She knows them all so well. No problem overtakes her His promises she trusts She lives to do his will because she loves Him oh so much She's a quiet overcomer An example for us all When I need an inspiration, I know just who to call. My Mother may not ever know The seeds of faith she sows How many souls she wins for God as through her life she goes She's a living testimony And when her time on Earth is gone I, for one, will be there To hear God say "Well Done" 2/19/95 mln My Father gave me wisdom and scriptures for my heart. My Mother put in practice the love that God imparts. By watching how she lives her love and How Gods light so shines, and seeing the peace within her heart, I wanted that for mine. Never boastful nor judgemental I have never heard her yell She will quote a verse to ease your pain, She knows them all so well. No problem overtakes her His promises she trusts She lives to do his will because she loves Him oh so much She's a quiet overcomer An example for us all When I need an inspiration, I know just who to call. My Mother may not ever know The seeds of faith she sows How many souls she wins for God as through her life she goes She's a living testimony And when her time on Earth is gone I, for one, will be there To hear God say "Well Done"
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115
Before you get lost in the unfinished maps of her veins the ones like yours, but not stitched up too many times to count on the ticks of a clock, make sure that she trusts you enough to tell the truth. Make sure that she loves you enough to know how you lie. Remember that every single time you open your mouth, she's wishing you're saying I love you. Remember that on Fridays she doesn't want to cook. And she sure doesn't want you to cook anything that was slaughtered. Remember that she prefers cheap whiskey over champagne. And when you're opening your ribcage to show her how fast your heart beats when she grabs your wrists, make sure the butterflies are set free. Make sure they find the window. Make sure they find a home. Remember that every living creature is just that, living. Remember that they have a heartbeat. And when you stop breathing when you see her with her hair down, when you're thinking about starting a religion about girls with flowers for eyes, tell her she's beautiful. Tell her she's so full of the future. Get her a telescope so you can show her the moon when it's bigger than both your thumbs. Take her skiing while it's Summer in Australia even though you curse the snow as if it were born out of wedlock. Let her know she's not the first but she's definitely the only, and you're so scared of dying. You never know what you have until it's locked firmly in your grasp as if to not let it run away. You might lose a lot of blood but you'll never lose your way home. I don't want to hear the dial tone. I want to hear your voice, I want to hear you scream. Tell me to leave. Tell me that I am the only road that leads you to a purpose. That in a world of blindness I am so technicolour. Even though I can't promise you that, I can give you my words, thrusted from my lungs like wildfire. Searching for the way out. Talk to me about religion, please please convince me that there is something out there other than rotting in the ground for all of eternity. Bible scripture doesn't whisper of your lips like my pillows do. I never really thought about pillow talk until they started speaking me to sleep. I find myself found by the curvature of your spine, of the shadows that take up residence on your shoulders like they have lived there all along. I want to kiss away every bit of pain that has ever stopped you from smiling at strangers and let you know that I'm coming home and I will always find your hands. Let your ribs shake when your heart has had enough. Let them shake. Let the rain come through your window while you're sitting there in your makeshift darkroom. You are the only thing I know about consistency. And before I get lost in the unfinished maps of your veins, I will be making sure they lead to me.
0
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 6:42 PM UTC
Untitled
Before you get lost in the unfinished maps of her veins the ones like yours, but not stitched up too many times to count on the ticks of a clock, make sure that she trusts you enough to tell the truth. Make sure that she loves you enough to know how you lie. Remember that every single time you open your mouth, she's wishing you're saying I love you. Remember that on Fridays she doesn't want to cook. And she sure doesn't want you to cook anything that was slaughtered. Remember that she prefers cheap whiskey over champagne. And when you're opening your ribcage to show her how fast your heart beats when she grabs your wrists, make sure the butterflies are set free. Make sure they find the window. Make sure they find a home. Remember that every living creature is just that, living. Remember that they have a heartbeat. And when you stop breathing when you see her with her hair down, when you're thinking about starting a religion about girls with flowers for eyes, tell her she's beautiful. Tell her she's so full of the future. Get her a telescope so you can show her the moon when it's bigger than both your thumbs. Take her skiing while it's Summer in Australia even though you curse the snow as if it were born out of wedlock. Let her know she's not the first but she's definitely the only, and you're so scared of dying. You never know what you have until it's locked firmly in your grasp as if to not let it run away. You might lose a lot of blood but you'll never lose your way home. I don't want to hear the dial tone. I want to hear your voice, I want to hear you scream. Tell me to leave. Tell me that I am the only road that leads you to a purpose. That in a world of blindness I am so technicolour. Even though I can't promise you that, I can give you my words, thrusted from my lungs like wildfire. Searching for the way out. Talk to me about religion, please please convince me that there is something out there other than rotting in the ground for all of eternity. Bible scripture doesn't whisper of your lips like my pillows do. I never really thought about pillow talk until they started speaking me to sleep. I find myself found by the curvature of your spine, of the shadows that take up residence on your shoulders like they have lived there all along. I want to kiss away every bit of pain that has ever stopped you from smiling at strangers and let you know that I'm coming home and I will always find your hands. Let your ribs shake when your heart has had enough. Let them shake. Let the rain come through your window while you're sitting there in your makeshift darkroom. You are the only thing I know about consistency. And before I get lost in the unfinished maps of your veins, I will be making sure they lead to me.
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45
When you step on my dreams  There will be days like these In the depth of the night  I feel your hand embrace my neck  Stroke my back  Your loving arms secure me  You take my hand in yours  You whisper in my ear  I am here with you  I won't let you die  I roll over  Open my eyes  I am alone I want the world to know  To know  The empty promises you made  I am not afraid to bare my scares  I am heartbroken  Not by the end of us  Heartbroken by the deception  Heartbroken by the illusion of the impossible  How you lead me to believe  With words and love  That you were all I needed  That I was all you wanted Broken trust and broken faith  Betrayed in the hardest way I know today  I have a rocky road to walk  I am not afraid to tell the world  You hurt me through and through  I to destroyed so many trusts  You had my soul  I feel no shame in  Telling all  The rocky road ahead  I will walk with  My head held high  My intellect intact  If not my soul My vulnerability there for all to see  My weakness and your strength  A vulnerability captured in destruction  Caught up in confusion In the depth of the night  I feel your lips on mine  I am wrapped in your embrace  You whisper  I love you  I will catch you  When you fall  I open my eyes  I am alone When you step on my dreams  There will be days like these
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Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 4:17 AM UTC
When You Step on my Dreams
Colors blind the eye. Sounds deafen the ear. Flavors numb the taste. Thoughts weaken the mind. Desires wither the heart. The Master observes the world but trusts his inner vision. He allows things to come and go. His heart is open as the sky. __ "Lao Tzu is believed to have been a Chinese philosopher (a person who seeks to answer questions about humans and their place in the universe) and the accepted author of the Tao Te Ching, the main text of Taoist thought. He is considered the father of Chinese Taoism (a philosophy that advocates living a simple life). Read more: Lao Tzu Biography - life, name, death, school, book, old, information, born, time http://www.notablebiographies.com/Ki-Lo/Lao-Tzu.html
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Oct 29, 2010
Oct 29, 2010 at 9:38 AM UTC
The Tao- 12. Colors blind the eye.
4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. 8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it  will pass away. ~ 1 Corinthians 13:4-8
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Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 10:01 AM UTC
Love is
The first fight club was just Tyler and I pounding on each other. It used to be enough that when I came home angry and knowing that my life wasn't toeing my five-year plan, I could clean my condominium or detail my car. Someday I'd be dead without a scar and there would be a really nice condo and car. Really, really nice, until the dust settled or the next owner. Nothing is static. Even the Mona Lisa is falling apart. Since fight club, I can wiggle half the teeth in my jaw. Maybe self-improvement isn't the answer. Tyler never knew his father. Maybe self-destruction is the answer. Tyler and I still go to fight club, together. Fight club is in the basement of a bar, now, after the bar closes on Saturday night, and every week you go there's more guys there. Tyler gets under the one light in the middle of the black concrete basement and he can see that light flickering back out of the dark in a hundred pairs of eyes. First thing Tyler yells is, "The first rule about fight club is you don't talk about fight club. "The second rule about fight club," Tyler yells, "is you don't talk about fight club." Me, I knew my dad for about six years, but I don't remember anything. My dad, he starts a new family in a new town about every six years. This isn't so much a family as it's like he sets up a franchise. What you see at fight club is a generation of men raised by women. ... You aren't alive anywhere like you are at fight club. When its you and one other guy under that one light in the middle of all those watching. Fight club isn't about winning or losing fights. Fight club isn't about words. You see a guy come to fight club for the first time, and his *** is a loaf of white bread. You see the same guy here six months later, and he looks carved out of wood. This guy trusts himself to handle anything. There's grunting and noise at fight club like at the gym, but fight club isn't about looking good. There's hysterical shouting in tongues like at church, and when you wake up Sunday afternoon you feel saved.
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Aug 12, 2012
Aug 12, 2012 at 9:25 PM UTC
Tyler Durden
The first fight club was just Tyler and I pounding on each other. It used to be enough that when I came home angry and knowing that my life wasn't toeing my five-year plan, I could clean my condominium or detail my car. Someday I'd be dead without a scar and there would be a really nice condo and car. Really, really nice, until the dust settled or the next owner. Nothing is static. Even the Mona Lisa is falling apart. Since fight club, I can wiggle half the teeth in my jaw. Maybe self-improvement isn't the answer. Tyler never knew his father. Maybe self-destruction is the answer. Tyler and I still go to fight club, together. Fight club is in the basement of a bar, now, after the bar closes on Saturday night, and every week you go there's more guys there. Tyler gets under the one light in the middle of the black concrete basement and he can see that light flickering back out of the dark in a hundred pairs of eyes. First thing Tyler yells is, "The first rule about fight club is you don't talk about fight club. "The second rule about fight club," Tyler yells, "is you don't talk about fight club." Me, I knew my dad for about six years, but I don't remember anything. My dad, he starts a new family in a new town about every six years. This isn't so much a family as it's like he sets up a franchise. What you see at fight club is a generation of men raised by women. ... You aren't alive anywhere like you are at fight club. When its you and one other guy under that one light in the middle of all those watching. Fight club isn't about winning or losing fights. Fight club isn't about words. You see a guy come to fight club for the first time, and his *** is a loaf of white bread. You see the same guy here six months later, and he looks carved out of wood. This guy trusts himself to handle anything. There's grunting and noise at fight club like at the gym, but fight club isn't about looking good. There's hysterical shouting in tongues like at church, and when you wake up Sunday afternoon you feel saved.
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63
Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever Never talkin **** Never takin it Now I take a hit And pass the **** Never sink to a putdown Never will I be a letdown If I go down I always know I'll never be out I'm not in it to get paid ain't about all that clout False laurels and accolades, not something to flout People always frontin don't even know what they about These fake people always say you ain't a fan of that "Oh I bet you don't even know this, know that" "Bet you don't really feel the way you feel" It falls flat Don't need to put down, to know I feel so let's run it back "Oh **** man, you a fan of that" "Did you know this, know that" "I feel you and I feel that" No need to doubt some idle chit chat Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever Heard from a friend lost in the wild hadn't seen em in a while Asked for my help and knew that I'd be there with a smile Didn't matter to me that I had to walk there over four miles Never turn the back on someone who I know trusts my smile Always there to help and if you can't hit me back Then don't worry just do what you can and stay on track Never put myself in a position where I can't come back And if I ever did I know I have Friends so I can fall back That trusts been broken but I won't give in Won't **** the trust I hold because a few gave in Few scars on this back where they put the blade in Forgiven but never will I let it be forgotten Never forgetting that I can't trust them And it makes me sad because I love them But if all they have is that hate then **** them Still unhappy knowing they can't love themselves Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever My loyalty is forever This loyalty is forever This love is forever
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Mar 17, 2019
Mar 17, 2019 at 8:25 PM UTC
My Name
Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever Never talkin **** Never takin it Now I take a hit And pass the **** Never sink to a putdown Never will I be a letdown If I go down I always know I'll never be out I'm not in it to get paid ain't about all that clout False laurels and accolades, not something to flout People always frontin don't even know what they about These fake people always say you ain't a fan of that "Oh I bet you don't even know this, know that" "Bet you don't really feel the way you feel" It falls flat Don't need to put down, to know I feel so let's run it back "Oh **** man, you a fan of that" "Did you know this, know that" "I feel you and I feel that" No need to doubt some idle chit chat Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever Heard from a friend lost in the wild hadn't seen em in a while Asked for my help and knew that I'd be there with a smile Didn't matter to me that I had to walk there over four miles Never turn the back on someone who I know trusts my smile Always there to help and if you can't hit me back Then don't worry just do what you can and stay on track Never put myself in a position where I can't come back And if I ever did I know I have Friends so I can fall back That trusts been broken but I won't give in Won't **** the trust I hold because a few gave in Few scars on this back where they put the blade in Forgiven but never will I let it be forgotten Never forgetting that I can't trust them And it makes me sad because I love them But if all they have is that hate then **** them Still unhappy knowing they can't love themselves Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever My loyalty is forever This loyalty is forever This love is forever
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Workingmen believed He busted trusts, And put his picture in their windows. "What he'd have done in France!" They said. Perhaps he would-- He could have died Perhaps, Though generals rarely die except in bed, As he did finally. And all the legends that he started in his life Live on and prosper, Unhampered now by his existence.
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4k
Roosevelt
Love trusts, lust twists Love reins, lust rains Love reaches, lust catches Love couples, lust combines Love retains, lust detains Love relies, lust relays Love cares, lust caresses Love binds, lust blinds Love floats, lust flees Love belongs, lust longs Love ascends, lust descends Love fames, lust defames Love creates, lust recreates Love commands, lust demands Love chooses, lust chases Love boosts, lust boasts Be aware of love Beware of lust That comes like wolf in sheep’s clothing
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Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 10:12 AM UTC
Love vs. Lust
To Ezra Pound These are the names of the companies that have made money from this war nineteenhundredsixtyeight Annodomini fourthousand eighty Hebraic These are the Corporations who have profited by merchan- dising skinburning phosphorous or shells fragmented to thousands of fleshpiercing needles and here listed money millions gained by each combine for manufacture and here are gains numbered, index'd swelling a decade, set in order, here named the Fathers in office in these industries, tele- phones directing finance, names of directors, makers of fates, and the names of the stockholders of these destined Aggregates, and here are the names of their ambassadors to the Capital, representatives to legislature, those who sit drinking in hotel lobbies to persuade, and separate listed, those who drop Amphetamine with military, gossip, argue, and persuade suggesting policy naming language proposing strategy, this done for fee as ambassadors to Pentagon, consul- tants to military, paid by their industry: and these are the names of the generals & captains mili- tary, who know thus work for war goods manufactur- ers; and above these, listed, the names of the banks, combines, investment trusts that control these industries: and these are the names of the newspapers owned by these banks and these are the names of the airstations owned by these combines; and these are the numbers of thousands of citizens em- ployed by these businesses named; and the beginning of this accounting is 1958 and the end 1968, that static be contained in orderly mind, coherent and definite, and the first form of this litany begun first day December 1967 furthers this poem of these States. December 1, 1967
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3.8k
War Profit Litany
To Ezra Pound These are the names of the companies that have made money from this war nineteenhundredsixtyeight Annodomini fourthousand eighty Hebraic These are the Corporations who have profited by merchan- dising skinburning phosphorous or shells fragmented to thousands of fleshpiercing needles and here listed money millions gained by each combine for manufacture and here are gains numbered, index'd swelling a decade, set in order, here named the Fathers in office in these industries, tele- phones directing finance, names of directors, makers of fates, and the names of the stockholders of these destined Aggregates, and here are the names of their ambassadors to the Capital, representatives to legislature, those who sit drinking in hotel lobbies to persuade, and separate listed, those who drop Amphetamine with military, gossip, argue, and persuade suggesting policy naming language proposing strategy, this done for fee as ambassadors to Pentagon, consul- tants to military, paid by their industry: and these are the names of the generals & captains mili- tary, who know thus work for war goods manufactur- ers; and above these, listed, the names of the banks, combines, investment trusts that control these industries: and these are the names of the newspapers owned by these banks and these are the names of the airstations owned by these combines; and these are the numbers of thousands of citizens em- ployed by these businesses named; and the beginning of this accounting is 1958 and the end 1968, that static be contained in orderly mind, coherent and definite, and the first form of this litany begun first day December 1967 furthers this poem of these States. December 1, 1967
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780 The Truth—is stirless— Other force—may be presumed to move— This—then—is best for confidence— When oldest Cedars swerve— And Oaks untwist their fists— And Mountains—feeble—lean— How excellent a Body, that Stands without a Bone— How vigorous a Force That holds without a Prop— Truth stays Herself—and every man That trusts Her—boldly up—
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3.5k
The Truth—is stirless
I love... The way she smiles at the ground, Whenever shes embarrassed. The way that she makes funny faces, When I take pictures. The way she laughs at my stupid jokes. How she says "I love you.", And means it. How she trusts me with the most important things in her life. How she let me kiss away her tears. How she turned to me, When she needed someone to be there for her. How she lets me kiss her cuts, To make them better. The way she holds my hand, And leads me down the hall, And marches on gaily, Ignoring the comments people make. The way she snuggles into me when we dance. The way shes not afraid to be honest to herself, And be who, And what she wants to be, Not what society wants her to be. The way she loves me. Her.
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Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 4:56 PM UTC
I Love...
I hope nobody trusts you again like I did you I pray you never hurt another person like you did me You carved into my soul And have taken peices They will never grow back Dont ever say that you want to help because you will just hurt again you will destroy and you will ****** This is the perfect story for a broken heart you made me feel good and I just dont understand how you killed me I told you everything and you continued to destroy what was left and turned me into this a grumpy unwanted suicidal being Who you illusioned believing all was good while you tore me apart and extracted my heart I hope you never have somebody like I thought I had in you I hope you get what I got in you because your time is due you earned that I hope nobody trusts you because you will hurt them too You will tell them what they need and when its time for you to work you will never be there Give us that fake smile the one that used to push the clouds away but I know now that the tornado is coming our way you make things seem okay seem liveable just to gain your unholy power Hurt is a childs dream compared to this terror I have lost all hope you told me you will help the only thing you helped is to **** Never talk to me again I cannot bare your lies
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Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 1:35 PM UTC
you killed me
You sit next to Randal By the river. He brings Out the postcards he’d Bought. Best send one To your mother, he says, Don’t want her worrying About you and how you’re Doing. You take the offered Postcard and put in on your Knees. Amsterdam. Randal’s Been here before, he knows The place well. Came last Year with the French girl. You wonder why he dropped Her soon after their return. Maybe she wouldn’t let him Or maybe she did too often And that put him off. You Look at the picture on the Front of Amsterdam at dawn. Ann Frank’s Haus yesterday. You remember that. Haunted You; you felt some aspects Of her were still there. What To write to Mother? Why bother? Part of you thinks, she’ll look Between the lines, see things That aren’t there, imagine things, Suggest you did this and that. She never trusts. Randal writes His scribble fast, usual crap: Weather, food, whatever. He’ll Not write to say he shafted you Twice the other night between Hot sheets. His parents don’t Know him; think him so sweet And clever. Shaft girls, smoke **** Never. You take a biro From your bag and neatly write. Dear Mother, we are well and Enjoying the sights (guess what We do at nights? Leave that out) And the weather’s fine and food Is plentiful and yes, I do change My underclothes each day and yes, We have separate beds in the hotel. (Lies are cheap) you pause. Randal Has done, he licks a stamp, presses It onto the back. Finished? He asks, Placing his hand on your knee, giving A squeeze, sending a buzz between Your knees. You smile, nod, and Hand him the card. He reads and Shakes his head and grins. All lies, He says, and all those hidden sins.
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Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 3:49 AM UTC
ALICE IN AMSTERDAM
You sit next to Randal By the river. He brings Out the postcards he’d Bought. Best send one To your mother, he says, Don’t want her worrying About you and how you’re Doing. You take the offered Postcard and put in on your Knees. Amsterdam. Randal’s Been here before, he knows The place well. Came last Year with the French girl. You wonder why he dropped Her soon after their return. Maybe she wouldn’t let him Or maybe she did too often And that put him off. You Look at the picture on the Front of Amsterdam at dawn. Ann Frank’s Haus yesterday. You remember that. Haunted You; you felt some aspects Of her were still there. What To write to Mother? Why bother? Part of you thinks, she’ll look Between the lines, see things That aren’t there, imagine things, Suggest you did this and that. She never trusts. Randal writes His scribble fast, usual crap: Weather, food, whatever. He’ll Not write to say he shafted you Twice the other night between Hot sheets. His parents don’t Know him; think him so sweet And clever. Shaft girls, smoke **** Never. You take a biro From your bag and neatly write. Dear Mother, we are well and Enjoying the sights (guess what We do at nights? Leave that out) And the weather’s fine and food Is plentiful and yes, I do change My underclothes each day and yes, We have separate beds in the hotel. (Lies are cheap) you pause. Randal Has done, he licks a stamp, presses It onto the back. Finished? He asks, Placing his hand on your knee, giving A squeeze, sending a buzz between Your knees. You smile, nod, and Hand him the card. He reads and Shakes his head and grins. All lies, He says, and all those hidden sins.
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