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RisingUp Nov 2015
If you look closely

You will see

The cracks and fault lines

That comprise me

From the outside, to the unattuned eye

I look like a normal vase,

For the glue is now dry.

Truth be told

I was smashed

Obliterated

Pieces essential to my core

Strewn haphazardly across the floor.

But thanks to those that saw me,

And a little internal conviction.

My pieces have been collected

My old form resurrected.

Thanks to a little glue

I appear to be almost brand new.

But don't be deceived

For what you perceive

Should not be completely believed.

For the vase is very fragile,

Not to be toyed with.

Not a player's game.

Please don't mishandle me,

And resurface days of misery.
Shea Ellie Mar 2015
STOP

completely confused
unattuned
to the world around me.

difficult choices
which aren't mine to make
buzzing around
my head.

static in the air waves
my heart digging its own grave

what is the route of escape?
I wrote this in high school, many many years ago. It's been in my head ever since. I'm not sure that "unrequited" was the original title, but it fits. It was originally a concrete poem with chaos evident in its form.
Yenson Apr 2019
A thousand remembrance is but one remembrance
a stirring melody only resonates if it moves the spirit
Lingers not a remembrance needlessly uncharitable
For on it's return will only find a soundless empty vista

You can gaze a thousand sights with empty glazed eyes
knowing it pours with transparent ease into a withering hole
for neither soul or mind find allure or worthiness in facades
the sages teaches passions governed not passions extracted

A thousand orators does not mean a thousand pulpit wits
sounds,voices needs welcoming home to attain completeness
in absence thus, they might as well be anything and nothing
disinterest, unattuned renders a deaf companion readily

A spartan is more than everyman less than the warrior king
in acute governance of mind, spirit and the call of the beast
for the chimes of climates races uneven, fallible thrones beware
In vagaries and shifts certainty stems within in tempered minds




copyright04April2019@Yensonallrights reserved
Jacobo Raymundo Aug 2013
A table is set for hundreds
In the chambers of my dying heart
At which is to be sat many a notable guest
Lonely, Sad, Fearful, and Disgusted too
Where they are to converse on the goings on
At a mile a minute all together
A harmonious blare of monotony
Where which each conversation is sensible
Yet together is disjointed, annoying
Me being the willing fool with a broken heart
Tried to listen in to find my ear sadly unattuned
To the discourse of utmost importance
I guess it's a part of living dead
MavericksDivine Oct 2019
In deep,
to the point some days I struggle to sleep.

The essence inside begging to be free, to dance together with those to this cosmic beat.

Something no-one can see,
it's something for those who deeply feel.

Once the sense is attuned,
it's like finding a side old but new.

Sensing bringing along intense yearnings,
burning to play with those alike.

When unattuned and blind to what is inside,
the dark beings take the opportunity to pounce.

Dependent on the darkness inside, sometimes there is light inside.

These unthreatening types.

But for those who make you shiver with fright.

They have something older and darker than even the darkest skies.

Seeing people radiating light a tasty morsel, that spiritual type of food.

Caution and awareness,
maintain what needs to be kept safe.

Undisciplined types prey to these beasts,
******* dry each part of the light they seek.

Discipline brought with age,
is the only way I found to keep away the depraved.

A clarity and a safe way to keep away from these essences craving barbarity.

No Saint be I.

Having to welcome a little darkness inside.

A layer that protects and chimes the bells inside with warning.

Providing a force that no essence can **** dry,
as many those monster have tried.

Be aware with who you share,
with who you leave your soul bare.

— The End —