"ture" poems
.
•
re-
kindle
the spark
that governed
this game•the fire
that once burnt as bri-
ght as sun•all of this once
before, had a name•but now
is weak from the time it had be-
gun•there was a time when it wo-
uld consume•......it would defy the
odds....just so it could burn as one•
frantic and desperate for the magic
to resume•uncertainty has carved
itself into the heart that has come
undone•winds bearing ill no-
tions revealed as the enemy•
stitch up the gaps keep-
ing out the rogue
gust•
pro
tect
the
light that burns ever weakly•rejuve-
nate the spirit that harbours broken trust
•rekindle me now... i'm still in the game•
the heart save the you will
isn't candle need
ready and to see
to make nur- me
sense ture with
of the it this
dark• to in-
fla- sig-
me• nia
as my
mark
•
.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 7:24 AM UTC
mov•ie
\ ˈmü-vē \
noun
1.a story represented in motion pictures/motion : noun : mo·tion : \ ˈmō-shən \ : an act, process, or instance of changing place/forward, backward, up, down, pacing, running, crawling/how we flee from our lives, our problems, our responsibilities/instead of focusing on motion we look to pictures/picture : noun : pic·ture : \ ˈpik-chər \ : a design or representation made by various means/click, zoom, import, export/our lives are on a flash drive, on a snapchat, on an instagram, on a memory card/everywhere but on our own memories/we don’t like pictures either/they show moments never to be regained from our past/our solution?/combine them into something better/movie : verb : mov·ie : \ ˈmü-vē \ : an escape from reality/we use movies to deflect the pain of our lives/we think that we watch because we are bored/no/we watch to escape/escape : verb : es·cape : /əˈskāp/ : a recording of moving images that tells a story and that people watch on a screen or television.
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 8:55 AM UTC
I'm writing the story of my life,
and I'm not letting anyone hold the pen.
The pen is mightier than the sword.
I'll write out all my pain, damage, fear.
I'll shoot for the moon,
even if I miss I'll land among the stars.
They all told me that because of my past,
I could never become anything great,
that I'd never have success,
never be good enough,
that what they did to me was my fault.
I wanted to grow up.
I finally did.
I excaped their torture.
Now, I keep writing my story.
Write. Edit. Change. Repeat.
I'm not even completely grown up.
2 years.
But it's happening now...
I've started toa ture into an adult.
Frankly, I'm scared.
I'm not exactly sure what to do.
I'm taking over sooner than planned,
I'm working a real job now,
I'm responsible for sisters well being.
I just don't know.
But that's ok.
I have my faith and I have my pen.
I don't want to miss out on the people who
have me mesmerised...
But how can I captivate them and weave
them a story?
I don't know. I don't know if I can.
My rythem and rhyme is so unique,
there's no hope in attempting
to intertwine another beautiful soul.
I'm sorry. I just don't know.
All I do know is
The pen is mightier than the sword.
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 11:56 AM UTC
Face of MADNESS , gather your twisted strength
Stench like sadness? (Do)n't confuse, its greatness
Sway through the fractures and disjointedness
Disembodied manifestation, useless phenomenon
S(cul)p(ture)s hammered into DisFuRme/nt
Castrate salient pieces of that body
Spew inhuman lexicon insinuating i-n/co\here/nce
Slaughter the (harm)ony within cadence
Screech! H o w l! Growl!
Rel(easing) murderous miseries within infected entr[ails]
R A G E, count{less} bullets turning fl{ashes} of sanity to CAD(AVE)R(S)
De[generate] ripping throat of conscio(us)ness
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 12:31 AM UTC
Departure
Always bittersweet
Part one --
Flits off the tongue and the teeth
Depa --
Rolling smoothly and richly, whispering through caverns and chasms
Part two --
Harshly invades the palate, like bricks scraping on concrete
Ture --
Severely escaping wind through tree trunks and mountaintops
Linking soft and hard, beginning and end
Departure --
The confusion of words and sounds
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 3:31 PM UTC
and only reading, only
input dulls nerves to
the truth in word.
without output, wi-
thout application of
garnered (no, acrrued)
intelligence then wh-
ere can be the soul
to wisdom. and exper-
ience is part found-
ation, and without sec-
ondary support man
shall stand alone his
selful house. and
cries in question of
fairness, the redundant,
as an aspect of Life.
as a driving force,
one that seizes with
each lurch. and those
cries echo from a plane
A to B life when we
are not vertical in Na-
ture, but instead we
slide from top knot
down some rope strung
by supreme benefactor.
to be caught in a noose
on the way down, or
to slip sublime and free
from the burns left
on the palms of existence.
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 8:45 PM UTC
En skide forretning jeg kun har sat fødderne i siden vi fik én Sodastream,
for regelmæssigt at købe nye smagsvarianter
De sælger blendere og glas at drikke af, batterier
og blinkende lyskæder når det er sæson for det
En røvsyg butik, der alligevel formår at vække noget i live dybt inde i mig
Det gipper i mig når jeg passerer deres butiksvinduer
Det tager al modet i mig at ture lade mine øjne lede efter dig bag kassen derinde
med din uniform på, i form af dine
selvvalgte adidasbukser og forpligtet sorte t-shirt
med logo trykt på ryggen
Forpulede ALSTRØM
Du er bare en fandens isenkræmmer der sælger lette hårde hvidevarer og diverse ting til husstanden
så hvorfor både frygter jeg for dig, skønt går en omvej i centeret bare for at krydse dig?
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 2:26 PM UTC
oddly enough i'm not bothered about existential Darwinism... i don't mind whether we die out and never have a second chance to draw cartoons, or whether we manage to partake in cushion making... the cure for Darwinism is existentialism... and existentialism just says: does it really matter? Darwinism is more an economic system than anything
just like me... nuns;
whatever;
nuns are included,
Macarena became
pivotal...
**** Germany... hey
Argentina!
dale a tu cuerpo alegria macarena
que tu cuerpo es pa' darle alegria y
cosa buena dale a tu cuerpo alegria,
macarena hey macarena!
hey chi cheap chatter
**** Germany... hey
Argentina! ah'ya!
C A RI c a TURE
WHATEVER
blah blah blah blah
blah blah blah blah
blah blah blah blah
blah blah blah blah
etc., whatever...
**** & anomalies...
i take my art, as seriously as the fact it isn't.
Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 9:24 PM UTC
I’m an African
Am a ture African
Am from the Land of the Red, Gold, Green
The land with its soil as fertile as the womb of the ****** Mary
I look at the World map and just the sight of the curves of Mama Africa arouses me......
see Is that piece not Hyde? Cos this shape de3 a no go lie,
It's set ablaze like the holy ghost fire
Hotter than the ghost pepper my mouth watery “aahh a Don tier"
Cos it' even tickles a shatta in the trousers and I feel it's movement against Newtons law of motion
Even Just the shape of the map of Africa already causing commotion
Hook
Africa 2×
We be one Africa aa
(Eeii ya one Africa)
Africa 2×
Ghana mother land
(Eeii ya my mother land )
Me mey3 Oman ba pa
Mey3 Oman Ghana dehye3 ankasa
The white man came to my land and with the sole purpose of preaching the gospel even when we had no chapel
Later maneuvered his way to barter trade our gold and valuable resources with hard liquor
And in a short while I mean a flicker, they captured my people and enslaved us into hard labour
And on 6 March 1957 a revolution lead by Dr. Kwame Nkrumah fought and led us to our independence
Chorus
I'm a free man free man
I said I'm a free man
(Eeii ya)
I'm a free man
I'm a free man
I'm a free man
(Eeii ya)
Freedom made me a free man even though I ain't the tritagonist of The Boondocks
I hear the reverb of Nkrumah's voice recurring out loud in my ears just like a jukebox
"(Sample)Ghana our beloved country is free forever.... (In Nkrumah's Voice)"
Meney3 anomaa, na 3mom membowa
Efiris3 afidea biara 3nheneme ( mom pene me3) (herrrrrrrrrr)
Na mey3 odefo) ahh me kuraa mens3m tumi
Oh yes I'm a free human being with an Independent will
A will that I will **** for, for real, because being a slave is just sick, I need a pill.
Repeat hook and chorus
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 6:30 AM UTC
once, I got a letter in the mail
I knew it was for me because the handwriting was illegible
and the stamp had a middle-finger
instead of a queen
whoever wrote it knew me well
because the sealed it with a
**** you
and a big, bolded
go to hell
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 2:45 AM UTC
a place to place
wet drippy con den sa tion
stain ing all the fur ni ture
remove it and that
is a mark you can never get rid of
a ring
a scar
for all your friends to see
Sep 29, 2010
Sep 29, 2010 at 11:56 AM UTC
I cant' write How I feel
Act on whats not real
theres no peace if not resloved
How can I script love,
If Im constantly correcting
your lines your stumbling
I need this to be real,
something you really feel....
Not just words you memorized
actions emotionalized,
but this has to be real
I need you to feel......
Im not looking for an actress
Who's use to her back upon a matress,
Im' looking for a lover
who doesn't just love undercovers,
Show it to me in your eyes
or eles this script is lies,
let me hear it in your voice
as if you had no other choice,
So recite your lines
As if It was inception of the mind,
and as we do embrace
Let passion flow along your face,
and say it....
what I wrote upon your heart
becasue for me this is ture,
"I Love You" .....
Let the world hear it,
Present your debut
And lets throw away this script
Cuz now its just Me and You....
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 11:57 AM UTC
Si lent
fig ures
un der a du vet
I do not know them
the pic ture is not clear e nough
I simp ly can't
i ma gine the breath
on a no ther one’s skin
crack le be tween fin gers
and so - called sparks
but I would dis cover
the wi res that con nect us
und er stand our net work
like a be guil ing lab y rinth
quick blink - touch es
qui et ly
crad le your name
as if it were
a snow flake
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 2:20 PM UTC
see go to sleep I only cuz I drem bout you and me never see you in person so all that’s left is for me to dream tired of textin you callin you My Spaceing you but my dreams never come ture when I see your face I have no words to say cuz im shocked by ur beauty so I use body language ur wat I think about ur what I dream bout girl im here to tell you it’s the thought that counts so I dream
Mar 13, 2010
Mar 13, 2010 at 11:52 AM UTC
to feel some thing
is to lie away
never to see the pain
lie to the place to hide
never know the time
just to live a lie
hide the turth about life
never know how to tell the truth
lying is life that will never say
now to lay of the night
The ture feeling of lying
Mar 3, 2011
Mar 3, 2011 at 10:51 PM UTC
Oh the struggle to stay ture,
The struggle to be me,
I'll never be the same, but I do ask you to still love me, I will love with all I got, but remember apart of my heart I do not have that, someone tiny, someone that had a soft heart beat, someone with the power that had it feel like real butterfly's kicks,
Someone with skin so soft, took half of my heart, she lives with the angels now, so remember if you want me to love, I only have a half of a heart, I'm still breathing fighting the depression that has came on like rougher sea then I have had before, remember I'm not the girl I was before, death, lost changed me
I'm a fighting woman, just remember I try my hardest to love.
I have heald an angel
I have seen one before
I will always love forever more
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 8:36 AM UTC
the disappearance of
lightning-bugs-scares
the little dark
place
behind my rib-
cage.
it twangs with
a need of a flutter
and a beat.beating.trying
flying- sensation of wind-under
a beetles wingss. a crea
ture. of peculiarloveliness that
twinges into theee word bee.t.ling
the disappearance of lightning.
bugss. I’m afraid to say. Is bec-
ause… I i I swallowed
them
into
and swallowed them
into the dark of
my chest.
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 9:53 AM UTC
I skolen skriver jeg sagprosa,
og rækker flittigt hånden op i dansktimerne.
Jeg smiler til lærerne på gangen
og kommer med åndssvage sarkastiske kommentarer,
som de alligevel i et-eller-andet omfang,
finder humoritiske.
Jeg løber ture ad hovedvejen,
og løber mod bilerne,
i håbet om,
at en-eller-anden vil lægge mærke til den tåre,
der løber ned af min højre kind.
Når jeg kommer til den sidevej,
hvor min dansklærer bor,
vender jeg hovedet,
kigger,
og efterfølgende leder jeg i mængden,
efter en sort bil, der kunne være hendes.
Når jeg kommer til stranden,
standser jeg brat op.
Tager musikken ud af ørene og prøver at få tiden til at stå stille.
Når jeg kommer hjem skriver jeg digte.
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 1:54 PM UTC
Yarn!!!Let me put on my mask...so I can do what I'm asked...i look good...Fly boi, take off my hood... So its almost time for scare...So I double dare...You to see whats underneath...these jordan #VI sneaks...these ture ligon jeans...and clavin klein sleeves...I dare you see...the thing I could be..The monster in me...Its crazy..So let me take off my mask..cuz thats what you asked...What do you see...You scared of me???....#truth
Nov 9, 2011
Nov 9, 2011 at 9:17 AM UTC
Locked inside a box
that encases my heart. The
light metal shines as
she rotates to the
manner at which my
behaviour tries to dispel
reality. I need
to break free, be
loose of this jewel-
ery box prison. No precious
thoughts as I face the
responsibilities of my fu-
ture to come. What I see before
me when I imagine other
families and how they
came to be. How the world was
built in one day and how
it came to stay that way.
How continuing struggles and
offerings made it possible for me to
thrive on the backs of
those most diligent, doing what
they don’t know how not to. And here
I sit complaining about myself and
writing useless poetry.
© 2004
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 6:07 PM UTC
I don't know if you were raised By animals..
I never thought that song to be true
"Be kind to your web footed friends..."
You know the rest..
Don't you...
Every line every word
Brings me to grasp with you!!
That my little bit of pain
looks like spit to your rain!!
I don't think that I could cope I don't think I could take
with my parents on Dope... All the hate
Cuz I'd be strung up too And bottle it all up
Wit my pupils dialated... To stay alive
and dreams stilled... without love
Cuz the system would have only confused
they try to give a home
to everybody eles liter
and I would feel like Im in a dump
Just another piece of colored trash..
That a lot of people call ****
cuz it smells
like it was pushed out of an *******
I don't know You
don't know if its ture...
But I pray for you
The deeper the darkness
The brighter your emotion
and I hope you find a light....
But All i know is it must ****
To inevitably have been raised by Ducks....
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 11:45 AM UTC
All my feelings have disbanded
They've gone and left me stranded
Of every emotion I am void
I need to talk to someone like Freud
This feeling of nothingness, leaves me past the brink
For now into TURE insanity I sink
Only the truly insane will not care
If they close the lid and leave you no air
For guilt will not play it's part
For the insane has no heart
You can take a knife and plunged it in
Make me pay for all my sins
I really don't care who dies
Not even if it's I
There will be not one tear to cry
For all my emotions, the good and bad
Have disappeared, it should make me sad
But it don't
Don't ask me to care, I can't and I wont
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 11:37 AM UTC
blev formet og mast og presset ind
i en cirkel forklædt som en ramme,
der gjorde det vanedannende at være
en udgave af mig selv, jeg ikke kunne
genkende
så jeg kendte ikke nogen, og følte
mig hjemløs i min egen entré
gik ture ved din opgang, og læste
dit navn op indtil mine læber blødte
af savnet fra dine nøgne fingerspidser
og blå øjne, der kunne få mig til at
smile med tårer i øjnene
jeg var altid elleve år gammel
i undertøj på din højre side med dine
ribben op ad mine egne
lænede mig så meget op ad dig, at jeg
glemte at trække vejret selv
om det så var på marmorgulvet i dit
køkken med ømme ankler af berøringer
havde kun klaustrofobi, da du ikke
var her
jeg var kun et menneske, da jeg
elskede dig
havde kun hjemve
da jeg holdte
op igen
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 6:48 AM UTC