"twise" poems
Among the holy Mountains high
Is his foundation fast,
There Seated in his Sanctuary,
His Temple there is plac’t.
Sions fair Gates the Lord loves more
Then all the dwellings faire
Of Jacobs Land, though there be store,
And all within his care.
City of God, most glorious things
Of thee abroad are spoke;
I mention Egypt, where proud Kings
Did our forefathers yoke,
I mention Babel to my friends,
Philistia full of scorn,
And Tyre with Ethiops utmost ends,
Lo this man there was born:
But twise that praise shall in our ear
Be said of Sion last
This and this man was born in her,
High God shall fix her fast.
The Lord shall write it in a Scrowle
That ne’re shall be out-worn
When he the Nations doth enrowle
That this man there was born.
Both they who sing, and they who dance
With sacred Songs are there,
In thee fresh brooks, and soft streams glance
And all my fountains clear.
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It's being around people;
And being all alone.
Everyone is together and happy,
There's loudness of the words and fun they have.
In a way I wanted to be alone,
But I also wanted to stay and see.
It's standing in a room watching life and it's happenings
Without being involved.
Together with people is to be alone
(When your few friends aren't around).
By yourself you're stuck wanting
To be with someone now.
But there's too many memories,
They fill too much of the space.
I look to the distance and can see them replay,
Just like how they say you can have out of body experiences.
I was more than happy;
Even when I could be sad.
These times fill my heart with passion,
Just in order to break it truly apart.
It's like everywhere I go,
I see them and what we did.
I seem to see the thoughts and the feelings,
But that's if I ever really did.
Today I endured an hour of memory replay,
Was asked if I was okay twise,
Then went home not knowing my thoughts or emotions
Being wound up in confusion for at least three hours straight.
I don't know how to deal with this,
When I've already hated one fake friend so much.
Now it seems it's all been used up.
I can't have my thoughts in the same way,
Because they were not meant to end like the last.
If it was as good as we thought it was,
None of us would let it get this bad,
If what happened didn't;
We could've tried to fix anything.
Anything else.
But we didn't let it get this bad.
To my real friend in this: you have done no wrong.
It was all of the others.
They somehow did this,
But to say this before would have sounded and felt so wrong.
Time heals does it?
I guess we'll have to wait and see,
However as of the last time,
Time and distance still doesn't seem to be working for me.
I still hopelessly hope to wake up,
And let it all be a horrible dream.
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 2:58 PM UTC
She is in an empty house that doesn't quite feel like home anymore,
he is making love to someone even though his thoughts
always trace back to the rapid beats of her beautiful heart.
She is concentrating on trying to be with someone that isn't him
while wishing it was; he is destroying himself by laughing at things
that he knows would have made her smile but is too afraid to
possibly ruin her life again. She is trembling at his every breath
and he is not going to call because the sound of her voice
might drive him back to thoughts he doesn't want to have.
She is told he never loved you and he never will
so she keeps to herself and cries herself to sleep with the memory
of his voice whispering I love you on her mind
while he tells everyone that they don't speak anymore
for a reason so far from the truth.
They can't seem to find each other but no matter how hard they try,
they know that their love was as real as the sun and the moon.
If you're lucky enough to find a love like that,
you don't find that kind of love twise.
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 9:53 AM UTC