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"uncapable" poems
your soul was so electric your body so tempting and mind so daring and now whats left of you? i've left you alone and it's my fault that you've drowned in yourself but darling.. i'm no good for you i'll break your heart cause i'm simply numb and it wont affect me but you used to be so vibrant but your eyes are now grey your smile is now vacant and your heart has been taken away im sorry i'm uncapable of returning it
0
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 6:55 PM UTC
heartless
Death caught her young, While a tumor grew in her head it felt as though one was growing in my heart, A mere child let in eternal peril! Her inevitable end brought my never ending damnation, How dare the supposed god end a life before it began, At only seven barely knowing the true horrors, I watched as the life perished in her eyes, As she became incapable of self-care I became incapable of tears, Even in her demise I could not cry, I was as cold as her purple lifeless body, Her casket open while people in black shed tears, As only a child I could not comprehend the hurt But now I carry it with me everywhere, A I watched her body put into the ground that pain the one I was uncapable of then now fills me, Each visitation a constant reminder of the dear child lost, I lost a friend,A mother lost her daughter and some just lost hope, There became pain in my world once death entered And though I could not shed tears for my beloved friend then I do now, Because now I see all that I lost and all that could've been oh so different.
0
Jan 12, 2012
Jan 12, 2012 at 2:43 PM UTC
A Uncomprehendable Death
Quiet whispers, And thoughtless imaginations Fulfill the truth That lies within the heart. The heart beats, And uncontrollable defeats With anger And other stuff that contrast The fears, From damaging and preparing It self to one’s peers, That lies still, And speak quiet whisper In one’s ears, With debatable beliefs From the hard cold tears That stays in the corner Of one’s eye that Makes it hard to fall, And even easier to not Cry. The dents in the pillow to Where one head rest and lay, And the mind, body, and Soul Is released to God To help the gray That takes over your life, Vanish and disappear Which you is uncapable Of controlling, With quiet whispers. And little whimpers, That no one hears but you. God take me to the point of This poems, Help my reader read, And understand that my Words are true. I am itching to be loved. I wonder if that itch really had Grew. -Marci H.
0
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 8:52 PM UTC
Indecisive
I lay here waiting in my skin for the tearing of the membrane that seperates this world from the next one and I let myself get carried along by a fresh stream of reasoning until I flare up in the dark like a new species of amoeba this balancing and spinning around on an atom and just not falling off it becomes boring at times and maybe because of that sporules once landed here to grant us the possibility of another possibility I lay here waiting and I manage not to drown just like only an almost newborn baby can and being born in 1983 means nothing here in the swelling infinity of the abnormal my skin has been waiting for new atmospheres for decades and the touch of unknown forms makes me shudder with raw impervious happiness because invisible energy effervesces alongside my arms and the eyes in my skull could be anyone’s right now suddenly the waiting is forgotten and I wallow myself in the gathered fairy tales of every soul that preceded me carelessly astonished and uncapable of understanding the seriousness of this absurd life inside me irrational poetry dances like a tribe jumping around a bonfire outside the universe dances her own eternity round and round
0
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 7:33 PM UTC
Psylocibine
Love, i know i've been waiting in vain...we are missing things to hold on to,but no matter time or reason, i won't let you go. I can't. It's beyond me,i've found myself uncapable to forget, i blame it on your smile wich hunts my dreams. How i feel You when i  hear the blues, i got the sorrow on the freezing nghts,so heavyhearted and cold no longer emotion comes from me, except except when i'm with you; hapiness that's what you are. Ironic,we've come and go but through all we stick together, that's how much i carry you...changes,pain,hapiness, age and even lovers.Yes, i must accept you've made weak and crazy. You've also made strong, strong enough to let you in and give it all, to be humble and caring.To fight for a dead romance in the middle of our games ,with the rest of a broken heart ,you ,just you ,will always be in every piece of it ,every single piece of the forever.
0
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 4:04 PM UTC
Letter of forever.
Beauty is all I see in her. The little spark in her eyes, the subtle wickedness of her smile, the frailty of her white skin, and, yes, even her scars. "What's beautiful about her scars?"- you ask. Well, what's beautiful about them is the story they tell. A story of a little girl stricken by misfortune. Uncapable of looking out for herself, growing away from the ones who should protect her. Hit by the alcoholism of her mother, and the drug abuse of her father. Forced to live in a home where love was scarcely seen. She couldn't see an exit. She couldn't find a friend. All she had was the pain in her heart, and a rusty blade in her hand. Pressed it against her skin, drawing a line of blood. Relief. Freedom. But time passed by, and she learned about her mistake. She found a better way. She found a better friend. This expierence left something behind though. Something she now lives by everyday. A humble heart, capable of loving and forgiving, and the lust for life she had seeked for too long. So go ahead, point your finger at me, and yell "There's the guy with the girl full of scars!". I won't mind for I see beyond these scars. Memories of a battle fought and won. Forget about the past, but remember where you're from.
0
Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 3:36 PM UTC
The Last Scars of Beauty.
marked:  hazardous materials.   special handling required;   contaminants.  corrosives.   radiation.  explosives.   pathogens.  psychosis. before even touching this you need to know this: it was a cure for war, a solution to pain. it was something that should never be attempted again. it was chaos, it was peace it was the last second of time before either of us chose to speak. now the moment has passed, the HAZMAT crews amass i mention casually as they put on their gloves "is there usually so much destruction" replied "what do you expect from love?"
0
Feb 13, 2012
Feb 13, 2012 at 10:56 AM UTC
the uncapable
Every word he said was meant, Every promise he made he kept. And apparently you didnt get the hint, All escaped you while you slept. Everyday he was at a loss of words. Uncapable of being able to say, I want to fly free with the birds And To mold our love out of clay. All was at a loss, Nothing more to look forword for. Everything covered in moss, Tattered and washed up to shore. He couldnt say what he meant, Couldnt give what he wanted to get. Forgotten about like pocket lint, He has no fish in his net.
0
Feb 16, 2011
Feb 16, 2011 at 10:52 PM UTC
its a lime
I saw a chimpanzee baby, getting raised by a dog. I saw an elderly man cut his food for his uncapable wife and I saw a young couple looking at them wanting to grow old together just the same. I saw my mother taking care of her new baby now we have grown up. I saw my uncle taking care of me (He knows we haven't). A woman trying to find a childs new home. A child saving an ant from death. And a boy replacing a girl's bad memories with good ones. It reminds me, that it's not so bad.
0
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 5:21 PM UTC
It's not so bad
Rude, ugly, hated upon, disrespectful, selfish,unwanted, loner,spoiled. That's what they see and think, but if you were to actually take the time you would see the complete opposite. You see I think the same things about myself, but carry myself other wise, as to be putting on a show. To changes the mind of a few would take the effort of changing a million, it takes the respect for oneself to gain that of others. It takes accepting you before others can do the same, but there has always been the question of what accepting yourself means.. You see l live in this Fantasy world. I live in a society that being weird isn't okay, and because you're weird and stand out you do not fit in with the mold, because my hair doesn't fall a certain way, it is not the right texture or I do not have the perfect curls. I am different ,Where loosing your virginity seems to be a trend rather than achieving the things people said you cannot.Because being thin, having a natural beauty, being tall is the best thing. I live in a society that has done nothing but made me feel so uncomfortable with my self because I am not what they define as beautiful... I live in a society that seems to be my one true enemy. As if I was born in the wrong generation as to test my ability of what it is to live. But it's is not just the physical things, it is the emotional and mental. This society had taught us to never show what it is we feel, we much not show one another our weakness's because that leaves us vulnerable. Vulnerable to what? I have never really understood why we cannot strive to be our own people, why we must be like one another. I have never really understood , why were seen and being depressed because we naturally are able to feel more sadness than others, why those are seen as being suicidal because they have come to realize that they are not ready for what this society has to offer, they are not ready to live somewhere they are seen as being uncapable, where talking is a chance to give more pills, where talking is seen as a sign of an action soon to follow. But I cannot speak for those suffering, it is me I can only speak for. Which at times seems even the slight impossible to do, because I find myself wanting to believe that I am not like what I am seen as.. Where one day no one will have to see scars to know your aren't okay, that realizing talking is really only the best you can do for some people, and because I am writing this doesn't mean that I am " depressed" or " suicidal" . It just means that I am one more person who is able to express the way they feel, I am one more person who is able to keep going, because I am 17 and my life is an open book, each chapter is different, but will connect in one way or another , because sadness will always be my foundation, finding the light will be my only goal and the Beginning of every chapter....
0
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC
Thoughts
Rude, ugly, hated upon, disrespectful, selfish,unwanted, loner,spoiled. That's what they see and think, but if you were to actually take the time you would see the complete opposite. You see I think the same things about myself, but carry myself other wise, as to be putting on a show. To changes the mind of a few would take the effort of changing a million, it takes the respect for oneself to gain that of others. It takes accepting you before others can do the same, but there has always been the question of what accepting yourself means.. You see l live in this Fantasy world. I live in a society that being weird isn't okay, and because you're weird and stand out you do not fit in with the mold, because my hair doesn't fall a certain way, it is not the right texture or I do not have the perfect curls. I am different ,Where loosing your virginity seems to be a trend rather than achieving the things people said you cannot.Because being thin, having a natural beauty, being tall is the best thing. I live in a society that has done nothing but made me feel so uncomfortable with my self because I am not what they define as beautiful... I live in a society that seems to be my one true enemy. As if I was born in the wrong generation as to test my ability of what it is to live. But it's is not just the physical things, it is the emotional and mental. This society had taught us to never show what it is we feel, we much not show one another our weakness's because that leaves us vulnerable. Vulnerable to what? I have never really understood why we cannot strive to be our own people, why we must be like one another. I have never really understood , why were seen and being depressed because we naturally are able to feel more sadness than others, why those are seen as being suicidal because they have come to realize that they are not ready for what this society has to offer, they are not ready to live somewhere they are seen as being uncapable, where talking is a chance to give more pills, where talking is seen as a sign of an action soon to follow. But I cannot speak for those suffering, it is me I can only speak for. Which at times seems even the slight impossible to do, because I find myself wanting to believe that I am not like what I am seen as.. Where one day no one will have to see scars to know your aren't okay, that realizing talking is really only the best you can do for some people, and because I am writing this doesn't mean that I am " depressed" or " suicidal" . It just means that I am one more person who is able to express the way they feel, I am one more person who is able to keep going, because I am 17 and my life is an open book, each chapter is different, but will connect in one way or another , because sadness will always be my foundation, finding the light will be my only goal and the Beginning of every chapter....
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1
The poppie plant blooms to the most beautiful flowers. It is called the Flower of Joy, the colors, the tranquility and how they can absorb you is one of a kind. And when they cut the bulb before it blooms, it bleeds ***** In the Wizard of OZ, the field to the castle of OZ, was a Poppie field. Where, Dorothy, The Tin Man, The Cowardly Lion, The Scarecrow and Toto, caught a nap. Alexander the Great used this flower to conquer the world. He gave it to his army to quite the hurting and to help and motivate the fighters from the pain of fighting. Great Briton used it to control and suppress China and to make money to grow their kingdom. It was then turned into Morphine and ****** in the late 1800's, legalized and taxed. It came in many forms of elixirs and then turned into big business. It could actually be purchased out of a Sears and Roebuck Catalog, where you could purchase it and get it in the mail. They could get their daily usage along with a syringe for a mere $1.95. It was one thing of a few things that brought ****** to his knees when they cut the ***** supply to Germany. That stop his drug making for his soldiers that left them useless. His scientist then he invented methadone but it was to late. In Afghanistan where the majority of ***** is produce, our army has only cut down a few of the poppie fields, only to know it will make it's way to the US. What could be their reason and motivation. Is it to help each economy though blood money.   In today's world it is controlled by War Lord in the east, the south, and the orient, shipped to many different countries  in many unusually ways. Yet some of it to be purchased by large pharmaceutical companies.   This innocent beautiful flower, that brings only joy to the eyes has been misused by man since 3400BC believe it or not. The death that it has left behind is uncapable of being calculated.
0
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 2:00 PM UTC
The Poppie
The poppie plant blooms to the most beautiful flowers. It is called the Flower of Joy, the colors, the tranquility and how they can absorb you is one of a kind. And when they cut the bulb before it blooms, it bleeds ***** In the Wizard of OZ, the field to the castle of OZ, was a Poppie field. Where, Dorothy, The Tin Man, The Cowardly Lion, The Scarecrow and Toto, caught a nap. Alexander the Great used this flower to conquer the world. He gave it to his army to quite the hurting and to help and motivate the fighters from the pain of fighting. Great Briton used it to control and suppress China and to make money to grow their kingdom. It was then turned into Morphine and ****** in the late 1800's, legalized and taxed. It came in many forms of elixirs and then turned into big business. It could actually be purchased out of a Sears and Roebuck Catalog, where you could purchase it and get it in the mail. They could get their daily usage along with a syringe for a mere $1.95. It was one thing of a few things that brought ****** to his knees when they cut the ***** supply to Germany. That stop his drug making for his soldiers that left them useless. His scientist then he invented methadone but it was to late. In Afghanistan where the majority of ***** is produce, our army has only cut down a few of the poppie fields, only to know it will make it's way to the US. What could be their reason and motivation. Is it to help each economy though blood money.   In today's world it is controlled by War Lord in the east, the south, and the orient, shipped to many different countries  in many unusually ways. Yet some of it to be purchased by large pharmaceutical companies.   This innocent beautiful flower, that brings only joy to the eyes has been misused by man since 3400BC believe it or not. The death that it has left behind is uncapable of being calculated.
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9
i live in the past as if its home it is disgusting it causes me pain because every corner or room the backyard another memory creeps up and im pathetic it makes me uncapable unlovable uncomfortable i remember each sound touch voice reminds me of each person screaming ****** assault malicious predator i live in the past as if im stuck there and i am
0
Jun 3, 2018
Jun 3, 2018 at 8:01 PM UTC
the past
You are lucky, because you have your parents with you, some kid out there are longing for their parent's hug, kiss, comfort which unfortunately they can't have You are lucky, because you are surrounded by good friends around you, Have you ever experienced having no one beside you? having fake people around you, who claims themselves as the true one but their only purpose is to put you down? You are lucky, because you can move and see things freely, How about the people who are uncapable of doing that? blind people who can't see the beauty that God has given us, deaf people who can't express their feelings and so on You are lucky, because you are given a chance to learn everything, Poverty hits us, the main thing that is affected is education Many people wants to learn and you are lucky that you've been given a chance to be one of them Do you ever think how lucky you are? But why are we not contented? Instead of being thankful, Why do people always crave for something more? "Craving is suffering."
0
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 3:48 AM UTC
You are lucky
Just kidding No, I won't falter Falter my guard Guarding myself From harm Just kidding No, I won't let Anyone near Won't let my  Chilled heart Be warm Just kidding, No more flowers Happy-feely thoughts That cloud up My mind Just kidding, No, I won't play Won't push next But would rather, Pause and rewind Just morphing Back into having A chilled heart That's uncapable Of feeling anything Numb 'Til the flowers Grow back
0
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 12:13 PM UTC
(4) #
i owe you a confession i'll never be yours again as to why, i'm sure you know, but we keep lulling ourselves with the lies of a perfect utopia, where we can continue to frolic in the endless meadows, not a care to the problems of the world i owe you a confession i love you but you disgust me so deeply i keep on denying, i keep on telling myself that it's just the guilt of not being with you the guilt of what could have been but when we are pressed against each other in a tight embrace, and i pull back, and look into your eyes there is no perfection there is no shameless love there's only sorry you're sorry for what you did, sorry you still feel for me i'm sorry that i can't just move on, that i can't just make myself feel sorry that i like toying with you sorry that you let me do it without even noticing and you are probably too nervous for words and i'm probably too nervous for actions because we both know we should just kiss and deal with it let the world perish around us as the flames of our romance burn up the place let our eyes flutter shut, let our heartbeats drum against each other in a frenzy like no other but you are too afraid to ask and i'm too afraid to do not because it would be right not because it would be wrong but because it would shout a truth we both don't want to hear that however perfect we are for each other we are uncapable of loving without fear, loving without hoping for change, for something else, for something better and we can't look away once i was yours but you were drunk with my trust, blindly staggering in the sea of possibilities, getting dragged away from shore but i looked on and let you drift away that's when i knew we weren't meant to be i let myself be fooled i let myself be told that i am loved, to the face, while i knew about the knife behind your back and oh it came down with sweet slow agony, slicing, ripping me apart like nothing before but we kept on smiling we keep on smiling still and in our smiles there's the truth shouting that we don't want to listen to that my smile hides pity while yours hides hope and i'm disgusted by myself for making you believe i only flinch in surprise when you touch me that i let myself relax when you embrace me that i feel a kindling in my hear when you go down on one knee and offer your soul to me but there's only horror inside because i realise now that we are equals
0
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 9:00 AM UTC
To whom it may concern
i owe you a confession i'll never be yours again as to why, i'm sure you know, but we keep lulling ourselves with the lies of a perfect utopia, where we can continue to frolic in the endless meadows, not a care to the problems of the world i owe you a confession i love you but you disgust me so deeply i keep on denying, i keep on telling myself that it's just the guilt of not being with you the guilt of what could have been but when we are pressed against each other in a tight embrace, and i pull back, and look into your eyes there is no perfection there is no shameless love there's only sorry you're sorry for what you did, sorry you still feel for me i'm sorry that i can't just move on, that i can't just make myself feel sorry that i like toying with you sorry that you let me do it without even noticing and you are probably too nervous for words and i'm probably too nervous for actions because we both know we should just kiss and deal with it let the world perish around us as the flames of our romance burn up the place let our eyes flutter shut, let our heartbeats drum against each other in a frenzy like no other but you are too afraid to ask and i'm too afraid to do not because it would be right not because it would be wrong but because it would shout a truth we both don't want to hear that however perfect we are for each other we are uncapable of loving without fear, loving without hoping for change, for something else, for something better and we can't look away once i was yours but you were drunk with my trust, blindly staggering in the sea of possibilities, getting dragged away from shore but i looked on and let you drift away that's when i knew we weren't meant to be i let myself be fooled i let myself be told that i am loved, to the face, while i knew about the knife behind your back and oh it came down with sweet slow agony, slicing, ripping me apart like nothing before but we kept on smiling we keep on smiling still and in our smiles there's the truth shouting that we don't want to listen to that my smile hides pity while yours hides hope and i'm disgusted by myself for making you believe i only flinch in surprise when you touch me that i let myself relax when you embrace me that i feel a kindling in my hear when you go down on one knee and offer your soul to me but there's only horror inside because i realise now that we are equals
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46
Esperaba algo, no sabía que. La muerte susurraba sus canciones más bonitas en mi boca de amante impura y yo la besaba, jugando con ella, sin llegar a amarle como ella me pedía, sin llegar al sacrificio por ella deseado. Pero ella me amaba y me ama, y sus labios perfectos endulzan poco a poco mi corazón incapaz de amor. Tal vez este sea el primero. // I waited for something, I didn't know what. Death whispered their most beautiful songs in my mouth of impure lover and I kissed them, playing with them, not coming to love them like they asked me to, not getting to the sacrifice wished by them. But they loved me and love me, and their perfect lips sweeten little by little my heart uncapable of love. Maybe this will be the first one.
0
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 6:21 AM UTC
Aguardaba sola // I waited alone
It was not your ordianary Monday for it was all mourning. Just wanted that day to end for my heart was broken. It was never easy to be okay for I was terribly hurting. Just when will it all stop for I am in need of healing. Broken it is, unmeandable. My heart is torn, uncapable. It scorches inside, untolerable. Like my being been ruined, uncurable. Oh, it is hurting, tormenting. When will it stop? The pain is to much.
0
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 10:25 PM UTC
Fragile Pieces
Alone is a lonely word You take from me and I give you more Never expecting that type of love The one that only legends get Help me see myself as you see me The wonderful me that doesn't exist The shameless, useless me Rescue my soul from the end No, I don't care if you go but please come back Help me feel empty inside The way you always fill my heart Tear me and bring me to pieces So that I could never repair Just scream, and yell and show me how much you care.
0
Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 10:04 PM UTC
Uncapable