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"unchain" poems
The mad king is dead The cruel king has passed away Stand for the new queen The merciful and mighty queen " My people a new beginning awaits us No more suffering No more hunger I will unchain the slaves I will feed the poor I will rule the kingdom with wisdom and justice I will hang the murderers I will imprison the thieves I will chop the **** of every ***** The king wasted our money and fortune Sold out our fields and women to the enemy But we will take back what is ours With fire and blood if needed But now bring the food and play the music!! Let's party!! And **** the king"
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Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 8:58 AM UTC
The king is dead long live the queen
Fare thee well by islets of time, Beauteous blooms of fragrance; of thyme. Gliding symphonies beckons thine eye, Gentle minds float toward sky high. O cues sung by the siren, allure! Once, fusion of reason borne pillar. Twice ponder, may our paths entwine, Thrice to act, unlike the tranquil Seine. Like angelic enigmas par Euler, Soar upon the painted auric frontier. Air fresh: an ebullient morning dew, Wisdom: moisture for the thirsty few. By spring fountain, if thou art inclined, Bright sparrow among the bovine herd. Lo, argent quarry of dust- liquid guile, Behold, product beyond thunder- gale. Scents of lavender assail thy sleep, Euphoric dreams, we welcome with glee! Sleepy horizons, a glorious dawn, Morning filled with a trillion suns. Some time, some day: travel the stars, Mortal shackles unchain my awful maw. Pupil of Aristotle, Darwin, and Vinci, There lies truth; a transient hierarchy...
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Aug 28, 2010
Aug 28, 2010 at 5:18 AM UTC
Cosmic Melancholia
. •unchain me from unrest• shovel me out of the dirt• une-                              arth my conge-   sted chest• let my secrets blurt• let them spill.....• just   for the wor- ld to see •..string me up... ..against my  will •harvest the fruits of the bi- tter tree• let    eyes see  what will show •...let feet be caught in stubbo- rn mud...• let prying minds be baffled.....by what they would come to know •...let wanting hearts choke...on the dirges of my stale blood....• now dig me up quickly•'cause it's been far too long..... and i have been readied•exhume all of me completely•for no longer should i remain as........ buried• .
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Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 7:36 AM UTC
Dig
To my heart I write these words, Spare me from my sickness, Unchain me from my shackles. I walk only because I must, Not yet for myself. There are good days, There are bad. It's sad to see myself in such a state, When my efforts reap little reward. Today, once again, I find myself asking why, Why? Who knows. I do my best to restrain myself from my own fires, And still they burn, But not as the flames in your candle, no. They burn with a searing, slow, and silent heat. My stomach churns at the thought of this lasting forever. Reprieve me of my prisonous mind. I would love to love myself, and yet I try, And yet I falter. Why do I hold myself to such perfectious standard? I bear the standard of the anxious and depressed, meanwhile no one knows how to listen for the silent cries that even I speak unawares. I tear my own heart asunder, but why? The silent disease with no cure. The infection that cannot be understood due to its silence. So how are we to solve this puzzle? Where none of the pieces fit? Solve the riddle unspoken. ~Robert van Lingen
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Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 6:45 PM UTC
Riddle to Myself
Witches are immortal, & we're starting to see You may have burned the bodies But the spirits they fled free Witches are ethereal, & we're starting to feel Ashes may have fallen But they nurtured seeds you plowed from fields Witches, we're alive and we're dressed in gleamed skin Our eyes pierce through bones And our hearts never wear thin We'll push you to the edge until you turn into your highest form The weak fear us because they know through us humanity transforms We call, witches arise And climb up the holes It's time to bless the soil and unchain the shackled souls With words, we unfurl magic With truths, we unveil strengths With power so infinite It lives ever; it is shared.
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Apr 30, 2020
Apr 30, 2020 at 1:28 AM UTC
Witches, Arise
wednesday  ..                       is faded black jeans/old white tank (too big) (hole from belt buckle centre front) glass of water stuck into the rings left by past week's mugs of beer sitting by the ashtray. and you are better than a nip of rye in the truck cab heading to work. the dust in my lungs (wide open saskatchewan fields) is not as important as watching the clouds stain purple with the sunrise patting two gorgeous farm dogs who run over from behind a silo turned to bronze in the light (there is an angel laying naked in the wheat grain) to nip playfully at my calves while i unchain the derrick, somewhere in my mind's recess it feels like i am loosing atlas from his ******* tho i do not register the thought until later upon waking from a nap. saturday // 1:15:44 pm i am in only briefs now working on a song/i clocked 4                                                                                                       hrs greasing truck 1117 this morning and hauling pallets. daylene from dispatch brought in donuts. i'll spend the afternoon listening to kanye and talking to women online. —there are no girls in estevan. i have (kind of) looked.                                                        sometimes i believe this to be pathetic but then i think further ahead and it's not so bad. you do really meet some nice girls. phone is replete with their numbers & they keep me company on long rides to and from leases, asking about work. hoping that i am well. (once back home by christmas account will be deleted and i can take them out at my leisure. you'll understand i hope that i am not a desperate man. but one has to work with that which he has. would you rather i go lonely? make my home in the mud to croon hank williams to crows?) (temporality.) 15/10/2012 there are now three beer cans on the carpet & one on the washing machine by the bathroom door which i will drink in the shower. it was sort of a long day.
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Oct 15, 2012
Oct 15, 2012 at 3:09 PM UTC
rough / basement clothes (three days)
wednesday  ..                       is faded black jeans/old white tank (too big) (hole from belt buckle centre front) glass of water stuck into the rings left by past week's mugs of beer sitting by the ashtray. and you are better than a nip of rye in the truck cab heading to work. the dust in my lungs (wide open saskatchewan fields) is not as important as watching the clouds stain purple with the sunrise patting two gorgeous farm dogs who run over from behind a silo turned to bronze in the light (there is an angel laying naked in the wheat grain) to nip playfully at my calves while i unchain the derrick, somewhere in my mind's recess it feels like i am loosing atlas from his ******* tho i do not register the thought until later upon waking from a nap. saturday // 1:15:44 pm i am in only briefs now working on a song/i clocked 4                                                                                                       hrs greasing truck 1117 this morning and hauling pallets. daylene from dispatch brought in donuts. i'll spend the afternoon listening to kanye and talking to women online. —there are no girls in estevan. i have (kind of) looked.                                                        sometimes i believe this to be pathetic but then i think further ahead and it's not so bad. you do really meet some nice girls. phone is replete with their numbers & they keep me company on long rides to and from leases, asking about work. hoping that i am well. (once back home by christmas account will be deleted and i can take them out at my leisure. you'll understand i hope that i am not a desperate man. but one has to work with that which he has. would you rather i go lonely? make my home in the mud to croon hank williams to crows?) (temporality.) 15/10/2012 there are now three beer cans on the carpet & one on the washing machine by the bathroom door which i will drink in the shower. it was sort of a long day.
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32
Now is the time to cut your hair short play in the snow even if you'll get cold feet Listen to live music even if it’s bad music because any art can make you fall in love with its creator even if it only lasts two minutes. Now is the time to become attached to people even if they aren’t perfect for you and unchain yourself from people even if they are perfect for you Because it is time for tomorrows for realizing your hips and knees crack for a reason for leaping off the giant’s shoulder for running fast even though you’ll tire for climbing to the top of the mountain so you can see the stars
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Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 5:56 AM UTC
Tomorrow
The piano resounds, flooding us over with the mood Counting headlights on the highway, take me away It's a moon eclipsed, and my newfound flame, I guess you're lucky that it's dark now Sometimes this has a hot sweet taste;your breath’s hot and gross, but I kiss you like a lover. We're dancing in a world alone - if I unchain my soul, you can never let me go I sink into you like water, be gentle with me have patience with me we sink like a stone in your honey ~ just beware the bees Heaven is in your eyes, and you hold me hard in the white light We love like star-crossed lovers, with blind eyes, and when you call me beautiful all four flash with joy Call it what you want, but we both know that everything is eventual I'd like it if you stayed, but is it better to speak or die?
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Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 10:01 PM UTC
Floating Again
i. do you ever think that maybe the sun gets sick of smiling down at strangers in an audience that never even bothers to look up? and yet still, each morning the spectacle continues to rise shining, singing to deaf ears blind minds— silent applause. ii. i feel the wind's breath creeping up my spine and can't help but wonder if maybe the only reason he whistles is to be heard. maybe the wind is just as lonely as the next passer-by he tries to hug but gets lost in translation: soft skin kisses transform into blows this power he cannot control— he calls it love. but others only ever see destruction. and maybe now they both mean the same thing anyway. iii. perhaps trees only sway as an attempt to unchain themselves from the roots that shackle them to the ground confined by the soil that anchors them to a cage they're convinced is called "home." they say every tree has a story to be told: the squirrel who hollowed out its heart and made a life out of the rotting rings inside; dead voices carved into peeling skin arms outstretched only ever greeted by air and the occasional bird that comes to sit on a broken-boned bridge that once led to somewhere. it's true. every tree does have a story to be told and if a tree falls in a forest and someone is around to hear it, it does make a sound. but the real question is would anyone be listening anyway? iv. i think in a way humans can be a lot like nature too.
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Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 5:03 PM UTC
there's a lot to be learnt from nature
Transform-Adapt-Change Transform-Understand-Comprehend Transform-Assimilate-Shift Transform-Think-Create Transform-Animate-Live Transform-See-Unchain Transform-Make-remix Transform-Relate-Connect Transform-Intellect-Mindset Transform-Rethink-Survive Transform-Unfetter-Give
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Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 3:56 PM UTC
Transform
Innocent child Spark denied Hardly strived a final strife Justice died Mother cried As hazard tried to save his live Innocence-spilling massacre Infant weeping Held by his dying mother Suddenly sleeping Desperately leaving This world to another A masterpiece of insanity A disgrace to humanity Manipulated politicians Manipulating ignorants Discriminating religions Yet same God is worshiped Same peaceful visions Yet all drown in hate and proudly claim to be believers Yet **** in His name like proud imbeciles for inhuman leaders Go read your holy books Absorb the essence of charity Accept we're all the same Refuse the tyranny Color your brainwashed minds with stains of compassion Break the political system Overshadowing your freedom Don't let their shams Carve your misery Unveil Insanity Unchain Humanity ~Epic Monkey
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Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 12:58 PM UTC
Insane Humanity
come wash your sin with me, i am a flightless soul covered in gossamer i am love in the form of locks you cannot unchain with bared teeth and bare skin and the blade of the twisted dagger strapped against your thigh i adore your spirit but i do not adore you. i am a capricious madness drink me to excess if you so wish me to be—a cold chestful of chemical smoke a sink full of the remnants of an unborn child, eject me i am unwanted, i am a wanted hallelujah with a swollen-gum smile in every lithographed dead or alive poster, please save me please buy black water lilies for my funeral the priest won’t attend please let the worms make homes out of my gaping throat, and i shall whisper unto you. one last time. it will be done unto your will without wisdom i am corruption in the form of conscience i am the riptide washing away your firstborn son with the taste of ****** verona.
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Jan 23, 2022
Jan 23, 2022 at 5:01 PM UTC
violent delights have violent ends
We’ve accomplished grace In the eternal august night To unchain a soul that is contrite Her soft touch gave men a pleasurable fright She made me endless dry nights With a twist of the forthright sunrise. I’m wondering I’m wandering In your vast spacious eyes I’ll find exile in your fragrant dream I’ll watch your promises steam In the waning night I felt the lunging freedom by the touch of your hand To the glimmering dusk We’ve failed to alternate To the passing bliss We reasserted To your musky perfume Angels tried to elaborate Frozen words of wonder you maimed A love hitherto acclaimed Wintertime is upon us Memorabilia Worn dour faces Grazed by memories Wintertime is upon us Lenient breaths Defying the freezing weather Like white cotton bursting into the air Numbed fingertips And cold lips Winter was the season of you heart Winter became the season of my life Now loneliness is my last supper The ice for my heart will scupper I’m alone amidst the feral waves of sobbing And my heart is drunk with its salt The crescendo will exalt Now I must repent For the placid lament
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Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 5:49 PM UTC
Wintertime love
i feel broken, used like a pawn in the game of chess—when i know im worthy of a Queen there's nothing to hold onto anymore, no wind in the door i grasp the impossible, fight for the unseen what is "real" isn't quite what it's made out to be i close my eyes and wish for more— all the hopes and dreams that have been forgotten i stumble into rocks and stormy weather, one step closer everyday; past depravity, sheer boredom—into bliss pure j o y the time will come, when my people open their eyes & unchain their hearts their world will be exposed, and they will truly KNOW everything is a lie! hold onto something, just believe a glimmer in the dark of the night see past the façade you're locked in a cage trapped, forgotten set yourself free.. live in love, in harmony unite with your brethren! share your soul! expose yourself for who you are: a blessed being—a child of the universe every star, your sister; every leaf your friend; every person a drop of a water— falling, floating, waiting evaporating endlessly savor every breath.. taste every breeze laugh at every closed door and know it's just as easy to break thru it than move on acceptance is key ride the currant, don't fight the tide, for it will defeat you; it is steady, unchangeable it will break you down hold onto the moment—it is the only one you'll ever have let your stomach drop, your heart sink, your toes curl for there will be a day when your stomach curls, your heart drops and your toes sink into their destiny..... fly high and never look down! catch every breath, rest in every cloud SOAR listen to the emptiness; there's no repeat button kiss your troubles away know the path by which you have arrived! there are thousands of forks in the road, which will you choose..? i've counted the days, minutes, seconds into oblivion why observe what can't be controlled? find yourself in your aspirations you will meet there, in the sands of time, your peace hold onto clarity ♥
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Jul 6, 2012
Jul 6, 2012 at 12:45 AM UTC
*for your eyes only
i feel broken, used like a pawn in the game of chess—when i know im worthy of a Queen there's nothing to hold onto anymore, no wind in the door i grasp the impossible, fight for the unseen what is "real" isn't quite what it's made out to be i close my eyes and wish for more— all the hopes and dreams that have been forgotten i stumble into rocks and stormy weather, one step closer everyday; past depravity, sheer boredom—into bliss pure j o y the time will come, when my people open their eyes & unchain their hearts their world will be exposed, and they will truly KNOW everything is a lie! hold onto something, just believe a glimmer in the dark of the night see past the façade you're locked in a cage trapped, forgotten set yourself free.. live in love, in harmony unite with your brethren! share your soul! expose yourself for who you are: a blessed being—a child of the universe every star, your sister; every leaf your friend; every person a drop of a water— falling, floating, waiting evaporating endlessly savor every breath.. taste every breeze laugh at every closed door and know it's just as easy to break thru it than move on acceptance is key ride the currant, don't fight the tide, for it will defeat you; it is steady, unchangeable it will break you down hold onto the moment—it is the only one you'll ever have let your stomach drop, your heart sink, your toes curl for there will be a day when your stomach curls, your heart drops and your toes sink into their destiny..... fly high and never look down! catch every breath, rest in every cloud SOAR listen to the emptiness; there's no repeat button kiss your troubles away know the path by which you have arrived! there are thousands of forks in the road, which will you choose..? i've counted the days, minutes, seconds into oblivion why observe what can't be controlled? find yourself in your aspirations you will meet there, in the sands of time, your peace hold onto clarity ♥
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51
I'll miss the day we were crawling down main-street at 4 a.m after we slept in the guest house and danced to CCR. Tossing our beer cans in the neighbor's trash, and singing with every molecule of our bodies at the passing train that deafened us from 20 feet away. We ran wild beneath the overpass, climbing the engines lying dormant on the tracks, pretending we could fuel them up ride across the nation in a rusted box car write our names between the colors of illegible graffiti and shout against the wind as we rolled through the hills. And what a shame we didn't chase that passing train the way we could have. What a shame we didn't let it carry us away with nothing but our flannel jackets and cut off shorts, the lighter in my pocket, and the thirst for a nice adventure. We sauntered back to the diner, exhausted by the scenery and faces, our buzzes vanishing to the neon signs of bars, seven bars on one street, and the smell of coffee as the elderly hobbled in with the morning paper clutched between arthritic fingers. Tomorrow, and everyday after, a train will pass through town at 4:45 a.m. and I can hop on the caboose any day I desire. Each birthday slithers by, flicking it's tongue in my direction, tasting my youth. And I glance again at the disintegrating old man sitting alone in the window booth wearing the face of a jailed old bird with clipped wings and the grievous expression of an ***** gent. He would pass one day, leaving a dusty, crumbling shanty to his children, a box of crinkled newspaper clippings full of obituaries, and an empty seat in the booth by the window, where someday I will collapse in the a.m. take my coffee black and cut my husband's name from the paper, wishing I was on that train shedding this loose blotchy skin for the rough hands I had the day I chased the engine to the edge of town and regretted the moment that I turned around and came home.
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Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 5:44 AM UTC
I'll unchain myself one day. (A personal little rant about this sinkhole we call home)
I'll miss the day we were crawling down main-street at 4 a.m after we slept in the guest house and danced to CCR. Tossing our beer cans in the neighbor's trash, and singing with every molecule of our bodies at the passing train that deafened us from 20 feet away. We ran wild beneath the overpass, climbing the engines lying dormant on the tracks, pretending we could fuel them up ride across the nation in a rusted box car write our names between the colors of illegible graffiti and shout against the wind as we rolled through the hills. And what a shame we didn't chase that passing train the way we could have. What a shame we didn't let it carry us away with nothing but our flannel jackets and cut off shorts, the lighter in my pocket, and the thirst for a nice adventure. We sauntered back to the diner, exhausted by the scenery and faces, our buzzes vanishing to the neon signs of bars, seven bars on one street, and the smell of coffee as the elderly hobbled in with the morning paper clutched between arthritic fingers. Tomorrow, and everyday after, a train will pass through town at 4:45 a.m. and I can hop on the caboose any day I desire. Each birthday slithers by, flicking it's tongue in my direction, tasting my youth. And I glance again at the disintegrating old man sitting alone in the window booth wearing the face of a jailed old bird with clipped wings and the grievous expression of an ***** gent. He would pass one day, leaving a dusty, crumbling shanty to his children, a box of crinkled newspaper clippings full of obituaries, and an empty seat in the booth by the window, where someday I will collapse in the a.m. take my coffee black and cut my husband's name from the paper, wishing I was on that train shedding this loose blotchy skin for the rough hands I had the day I chased the engine to the edge of town and regretted the moment that I turned around and came home.
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50
Why do we treat each other this way? Feels like our words are only a chain . . . Sister-chained             why do you treat me this way? Sister-chained             How do I get you to change? Sister-chained             why oh why? Oh why, even today,             I'm sister-chained? Noth-ing but pain, Born to be sisters except for this pain, That pain, the words, pain it remains. . . Sister-chained conflict between us al-ways remains, conflict between us remains. Sister-chained             unchain your hearts for love. Oh woe, Sister-chained             How do I get you to change?             unchain your hearts for love. Oh woe, Oh woe. . .
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Nov 22, 2016
Nov 22, 2016 at 11:27 PM UTC
Sister-chained
Veterans of war show off their scars Telling their frightening tales of battle The say " right here, in this very spot Is where the age old bullet was shot" But what about the others The girls with troubling pasts That haunt their every hour They sit in the corner clad in black their expressions turned sour And when the pieces of themselves Come some what back together Like the veterans they have scars Only its from their emotional wars To the eye their perfect plain and pretty Another person in the crowd Another nameless happy soul No sees, no one helps, there is no one to console Alone they fight their treacherous battle Friendships lost, loved ones gone And when it's done the world goes on To as if nothing was ever wrong And if that one is found alone Crying in the corner They all question what's the matter Since scarless is her stature No one questions No one helps She has nothing physical to show Yet there are scars, only emotional, you know No bandaid can fix the heart break And the world doesn't know how To unchain her from the repeating past And forever it seems this will last
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Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 12:41 AM UTC
Hidden Scars
One more sleepless night, Another timeless darkness, closing in on me. Flames consume my eyes, The burning will never stop, Please, oh, please, take me. Let the devils in, Give them shelter and some tea; Hospitality. Now, now, let me sleep, please, I've been good to you all, Unchain me, devils!
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Aug 2, 2012
Aug 2, 2012 at 8:13 AM UTC
2/8/12 (4 haikus)
© 2009 (Jim Sularz) In a strange land, in a far-off sea, ships set sail to scar man and earth. When diplomacy fails, shattering hopes for peace, hate propels war’s unwanted birth. Months and years of mock exercise and drills to check complete. To prepare for a war that may never come, but is born when tyranny’s unleashed. On that tearful day when soldiers called, break formation to say goodbye. Children rush out to clutch soldier’s legs, tremble, and start to cry. But soldiers know, they have to go, to keep play soldiers safe. From yet another tyranny, in yet, another place. On embattled shores where fallen foes and heroes fiercely fight. The battle ground will be sanctified by those who die that night. Through the grime, and with sweat, and with blood, and with tears. Through the horror of war, many frozen with fear. From battle to battle, fighting shore to shore. Nothing escapes from the hands of war. Men killing men with all of their might. Unchain a bomb with a blinding light. When a long, brutal war finally ends - claiming it’s broken and countless dead. The boys that charged as a spirited godsend - return dazed, war hardened, iron men. And when some soldiers come home, they’re never quite the same. Because their silent war rages on, every night and every day. On Veteran’s day with the cheering crowds and the waving flags. They celebrate the soldier’s sacrifice in a very special way. But a soldier’s mind is just a flash away. To a place called Hell where they died that day. Now, with the soldiers worn and their bodies bent. A once embattled foe has become a friend. And when the day comes, to blow the final taps for all. The old units will be lined up and ready - for the last roll call.
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Jun 10, 2012
Jun 10, 2012 at 5:34 PM UTC
Soldiers Called
© 2009 (Jim Sularz) In a strange land, in a far-off sea, ships set sail to scar man and earth. When diplomacy fails, shattering hopes for peace, hate propels war’s unwanted birth. Months and years of mock exercise and drills to check complete. To prepare for a war that may never come, but is born when tyranny’s unleashed. On that tearful day when soldiers called, break formation to say goodbye. Children rush out to clutch soldier’s legs, tremble, and start to cry. But soldiers know, they have to go, to keep play soldiers safe. From yet another tyranny, in yet, another place. On embattled shores where fallen foes and heroes fiercely fight. The battle ground will be sanctified by those who die that night. Through the grime, and with sweat, and with blood, and with tears. Through the horror of war, many frozen with fear. From battle to battle, fighting shore to shore. Nothing escapes from the hands of war. Men killing men with all of their might. Unchain a bomb with a blinding light. When a long, brutal war finally ends - claiming it’s broken and countless dead. The boys that charged as a spirited godsend - return dazed, war hardened, iron men. And when some soldiers come home, they’re never quite the same. Because their silent war rages on, every night and every day. On Veteran’s day with the cheering crowds and the waving flags. They celebrate the soldier’s sacrifice in a very special way. But a soldier’s mind is just a flash away. To a place called Hell where they died that day. Now, with the soldiers worn and their bodies bent. A once embattled foe has become a friend. And when the day comes, to blow the final taps for all. The old units will be lined up and ready - for the last roll call.
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29
Drop all inhibitions Let your imaginations fly Unchain from doubt That makes you stationary Soul is all pervasive And let it be your guide Venturing new avenues Take the boulevard to freedom When you will meet yourself To reveal and expose the truth When, the null will surround you Cocooning you into the infinite Forever, bliss will kiss your soul © Amitav (Radiance)
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Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 2:08 PM UTC
Just Believe
Step one starts with forgetting/ you begin by tearing yourself from the skin they took home in, disconnecting your arms from their seams, eating their hearts and hoping that they forget you, too Step two means burning all ties, dissolving each memory like the pills your mother took at breakfast, how could you have let this happen? so you pull their veins from yours and untangle what they gave you, choke down a penny and hope that they don't think of you Step three is the detox, cut yourself open and scrub yourself shiny::: unchain your wrists from that dinner table and hope that his nightlight doesn't bleed through that doorway, orange was never a pretty color anyway Step four is the hardest, . when you take a knife to your palm, and make slits down to your wrist, when you ignore the beck and call of memories you forgot you had, people you realize never cared, so you take a drink for those you know you've long forgotten, and come clean to three different people, all the same and hope the next girl doesn't know step one.... it never seemed to hurt when you played it all out in your head.
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Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 12:59 PM UTC
how to runaway
Unchain me please as I've never been this baffled by the fact that these 3 simple words could turn my life into a living wreck. Promises were made Hearts were crossed Pinky promises, we once did but none of them lasted as time traveled faster than it seemed to be Memories took hold of me The way you handled me with care The way you touched me gently The way you held me like a delicate little bird. You never complained when I cried over the simplest of things and yet you held me tightly and said "it'll all be okay" What changed us? Distance mocked us harder Time envied us and so we went our separate ways. Never to be seen again Never to be heard again Vanished as light went away When darkness arises
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Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 5:24 AM UTC
Let Go
I guess you didn’t know That I have a lost and uncomfortable soul. She screams and shouts to overcome the pain But without uttering a word because fear is in reign. Is it all in my head? Another discerning dread that she feared and left unsaid. How did I get here? This black funnel and clouded sphere have her trapped inside with no hope to adhere. Like an impending doom forever encompassing everything she’d once dreamed All the things that used to be will now never be—at least that’s how it seems. Not knowing what to feel or how to bestow her love All hope for that was ruined with the very first shove. How does one proclaim the truths of their heart? If everything they’ve ever loved always seems to get ripped apart? Forever afraid of the what-ifs and of the worst All because of that stupid ******* **** who immersed. Thrusting all of her hopes and dreams into the chasm of perception What used to make sense has now seemed to be blackened. Happiness used to prevail inevitably, or it at least seemed attainable But can now only be hastily found with the help of an Rx bottle. From afar her eyes sparkle and shine like the rarest of diamonds Cerulean blue like the water surrounding the tropical islands. If she refuses to let you in, you’d never believe she was so sad But even the waters of paradise conceal desolate bad. He’s sent her on a spiraling staircase slowly down to hell Forced to suffer one small step at a time, while he upwardly propels. I guess you didn’t know That I had a story to tell. I guess you didn’t know That my soul is not well. I guess you didn’t know That I have been enduring hell. I guess you didn’t know Because I’m trapped in a distorted and torturous shell Desperate to find the one who holds the key to unchain me & cast away this spell.
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Jan 25, 2013
Jan 25, 2013 at 8:53 PM UTC
Unchain Me
I guess you didn’t know That I have a lost and uncomfortable soul. She screams and shouts to overcome the pain But without uttering a word because fear is in reign. Is it all in my head? Another discerning dread that she feared and left unsaid. How did I get here? This black funnel and clouded sphere have her trapped inside with no hope to adhere. Like an impending doom forever encompassing everything she’d once dreamed All the things that used to be will now never be—at least that’s how it seems. Not knowing what to feel or how to bestow her love All hope for that was ruined with the very first shove. How does one proclaim the truths of their heart? If everything they’ve ever loved always seems to get ripped apart? Forever afraid of the what-ifs and of the worst All because of that stupid ******* **** who immersed. Thrusting all of her hopes and dreams into the chasm of perception What used to make sense has now seemed to be blackened. Happiness used to prevail inevitably, or it at least seemed attainable But can now only be hastily found with the help of an Rx bottle. From afar her eyes sparkle and shine like the rarest of diamonds Cerulean blue like the water surrounding the tropical islands. If she refuses to let you in, you’d never believe she was so sad But even the waters of paradise conceal desolate bad. He’s sent her on a spiraling staircase slowly down to hell Forced to suffer one small step at a time, while he upwardly propels. I guess you didn’t know That I had a story to tell. I guess you didn’t know That my soul is not well. I guess you didn’t know That I have been enduring hell. I guess you didn’t know Because I’m trapped in a distorted and torturous shell Desperate to find the one who holds the key to unchain me & cast away this spell.
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I have never wanted to believe in anything [you] so desperately. I was clinging on to it, like it was the only way to breathe; only way to be free, imprisoning me from the suffocating society norms– Waking up on the coarse sheets, smelling like roses and whiskey, your scars brushing my freckled delicately folded arms bathing in the morning rays, Then your shadows trailed up, destroying every ounce of love you might have felt, why are you letting them drug you into never escaping this lonely eternity? You were the prayer; you were the reason, was I ever enough? I know believing in you is like asking for a car crash, but if it’s you then I want to bleed, And taint every inch of your skin in my blood, And mould every bone of our bodies into one and call you mine. I want to hurt like that, like falling from the empire state, lungs choked and crashing into blindness, with ever tendon and capillary unidentifiable in the mess that’s been created I want to breathe like that, like fire breathes in forest, but that’s the way you are breathing in my heart. I want you to tell me you haven’t lost yourself to darkness, and there is still a spark of luminescence hidden underneath the gardens of nightshade – Left in your soul waiting to be watered and nurtured like a seed, then growing into cherry blossoms – Rather than a field of poisonous mandrakes. And I wanted to believe I’ll be the redemption but my knives are blunt and they cannot unchain you and you aren’t realizing what it means to be alive.
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Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 4:05 AM UTC
And I wanted to believe I’ll be the redemption
I have never wanted to believe in anything [you] so desperately. I was clinging on to it, like it was the only way to breathe; only way to be free, imprisoning me from the suffocating society norms– Waking up on the coarse sheets, smelling like roses and whiskey, your scars brushing my freckled delicately folded arms bathing in the morning rays, Then your shadows trailed up, destroying every ounce of love you might have felt, why are you letting them drug you into never escaping this lonely eternity? You were the prayer; you were the reason, was I ever enough? I know believing in you is like asking for a car crash, but if it’s you then I want to bleed, And taint every inch of your skin in my blood, And mould every bone of our bodies into one and call you mine. I want to hurt like that, like falling from the empire state, lungs choked and crashing into blindness, with ever tendon and capillary unidentifiable in the mess that’s been created I want to breathe like that, like fire breathes in forest, but that’s the way you are breathing in my heart. I want you to tell me you haven’t lost yourself to darkness, and there is still a spark of luminescence hidden underneath the gardens of nightshade – Left in your soul waiting to be watered and nurtured like a seed, then growing into cherry blossoms – Rather than a field of poisonous mandrakes. And I wanted to believe I’ll be the redemption but my knives are blunt and they cannot unchain you and you aren’t realizing what it means to be alive.
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