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Meghan Marie May 2011
Do not underestimate me.

Do not make the mistake of thinking I don't know pain.
True, I've never taken a bullet,
or been blown up.
I have laid limply on a couch,
unable to defend myself,
as a stranger took advantage of too many tequila shots.
I have been forced to keep my cries silent,
unable to scream out,
as a stranger threatened me to keep my mouth shut.
I have crawled to the aid of a friend,
just to see the look of horror on her face,
as I disclosed what had been done to me.
I have gone out of my way only to shiver naked
on a hospital examination bed,
as a stranger prodded and asked me to describe my pain.
I have experienced pain
that can not be explained by a scale from 1 to 10,
that can not be hidden by bandages or healed by physicians,
that can not ever be forgotten.
I experience pain every time you go down on me,
every time you remind me,
every time I look at my naked body in a mirror.
I live every day with reminders of my pain.

Do not underestimate me.

Do not make the mistake of thinking I don't know fear.
True, I've never had to worry daily
if I would survive to see my homeland again.
I have walked faster as strangers pulled there cars over,
offering me cash to let them 'put it in my ***.'
I have been cornered on buses and in clubs
my men trying to 'show me how to have a good time.'
I have been yelled at by men on the street,
saying they'd hunt me down and **** me for ignoring their advances.
I have been afraid to slow down,
I have been afraid to speak,
and I have been afraid for my life.
Walking alone down University, I have known fear.

Do not underestimate me.

Do not make the mistake of thinking I don't know loss.
True, I have never held another
in my arms as he lay dying.
I have made the most difficult choice, to let live or have die.
I have sat in a waiting room, terrified of what awaits.
I have spent days drugged up, but still in pain.
I have watched as I passed blood clots bigger than my fist.
And though I wouldn't go back and change my choice,
every time I see a child at play,
I live constantly with the loss of my baby girl or boy.

Do not underestimate me.

Do not make the mistake of thinking I don't know strength.
True, I have never come close to dying of dehydration,
and I have never pulled the trigger on another human being.
I have been told I am betraying my family,
by standing up for what I know is right.
I have, at sixteen, had the realization
that the person I should hold in highest esteem,
is more immature, dramatic, and irrational than me.
I have had to live with the acceptance
that part of my family will never forgive me,
will never re-accept me, and will never be the same.

Do not underestimate me.

Do not make the mistake of thinking I don't know love.
True, I have never gone for months and months,
celibate and without the one I love.
I do live daily with the fear that you will leave me for the one who left you;
that you will redeploy and never come home;
that there is a part of you I will never understand.
I live daily knowing there are things that have changed you,
that you can never tell me and you can never forget.
I live daily knowing there are a million things
that could tear you away from me, me away from you,
and every sing day I decide loving you now is worth every fear.
It may not seem like much to you,
but I love you with every ounce of myself that I have.

Do not underestimate me.
Allen Robinson Jan 2017
Never Underestimate your worth
your willingness to overcome
your strength to achieve

Never Underestimate your creative mind
your light to uplift others
your faith in times of doubt

Never Underestimate your spirit
your heart when others do
your ability to see good

Never Underestimate your Gods love
your ability to change the world
your true path to greatness.
Michael Ryan Jan 2013
I can't wreck this boat
I can't crash it into the depths once more
I gotta clean it up
I gotta clear the skies and wasp this deck
Otherwise these sails will forever fall
Otherwise the murky waters will creep aboard
Underestimate the strength of a breeze from the past
Underestimate these old boards, but they can float
everything can fall off it'll come back to the surface
everything can't go back together
NOT this time, no repeats, this boat is no Delorean
NOT in the past everything is right now
again no thanks my friend
again this boat has life preservers hope you can find them
I don't know how this really goes I kinda read this one like a rap.
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
What if
I told you
not to discourage
The world and you

You're the part of nature
The very part to be loved
and captured

The world can be cruel not
meeting your expectation
  I want to encourage you

What we are not
We all need to be cared for
No-one needs to control you
You put you or not?
But your heart and soul
inside you
Was worth every
Worldbeat of a shot

Like an energy force

What we hear
let nature
take its course

How it got to you
But of course
Unexpected surprise or not
Another divorce
Spiritual eye
compelled you

To be or not to be
(The Shakespearian) dialogue
But what is concealed so secretive
Our loved ones
The world revolves around
(Many Rules) a dust of the wind
The dead ones The wild or bad ones
 What would it be without
colors and no control
The kindest hearts of souls

It's not very logical or practical
To use it never to abuse it how
another person transforms it
Solving the problems
Such a delicate moment touching a rose

And snap a pose Lady Madonna

Like it-or, not the Vogue space alien green
Your money is not always what it seems
The whole world in your hand
Feeling alienated mind polluted
The things that we are? Being Lifted

Why does a business make you feel
Nothingness the number
Well let's consider
yourself part of the family
We are not on this planet
to be right or wrong

How every molecule
 something clicks
The good earth Apple
computer console
All the keys comma, star,
how far will it go
So many deceased or not ever pleased
@  # whats the odds percentage %
The exclamation point! !! & etc
The addiction movies the drama

Fresh blueberries the sour cream
Not watching your diet what a dilemma
Those landmark cemeteries so
vivid not a dream and life to
overcome
your fears and dreams

Every Data color is the
warmest earth worth every beauty of color

Those homemade brownies
The revolving Globe
Her Grecian robe contemplating
You're the physical sensible person
Trying a (Sun filled) vacation
How it groves to shape right in
Healthy or not we were
born  to be loved

Our eyes see but they're
not clear not the friendly
Environment somehow mean

Or bluer than the sky clean
But "Hi' nice welcoming
Robin bird fly__*
Maybe it's not your true birth

Like a cry overflow

What do you know he knows
or she knows
Enjoy yourself your mind will be higher
Overly confident to feel pompous
The Showstopper word it nutritious
Don't underestimate
Who we really are the believer

Don't pull yourself back
with negativity

Accept the craziness
You're not the wallflower
The world captures you
every day cry or make it
your time to pray
Your head was spinning
with fascination like it was your
time of blessing
That European trip the
airplane pop of ears what is glory
Let the people hear your side of the story

The restlessness above all  the love
With such a will of ambition list
Feeling the dizziness

I know the world would be
a better place with smiling face
Show your hair with the
fresh cut daisy
The brightness soothes you
The Daisy my favorite
because of Mom
She taught me well

I will always be her daisy
What makes us happy
That personal growth we don't
need a wish just push forward
We were meant to do
this together
intertwined as both
Toward our happiness
What revolves around our world to see the world free or wild what do we really feel like in this heavenly good earth. We should kiss the ground we walk on or not is it really using up your time you are the one so worth living or not to find peace even when it's not what we need to resolve to move forward and love who we are
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2016
it's the 50th anniversary edition of william burrough's naked lunch, with the original cover, looking at all the annexes is like watching modern history with Russian annexing Crimea, anyway...

indeed the nature of addiction, i chose mine to
cure my insomnia - i *chose
mine -
the less nasty less mythical name for it is indeed
metabolism - any hard-craft alcoholic walks into
a bar - drunk ******* and egoistically gluttonous
idiots come out like giraffes - vomiting into
the gutters, more Marilyn Monroe moments
showing off knickers even without the metro gust -
you drink enough and watch people drinking
for the psychoactive ingredient for dis-inhibiting
effects (buttered up talk, smooth there, quasi
Don Juan wannabes) - as Burroughs said: PLAN
YOUR ADDICTION - become addicted if some other
weakness is beating you - amtitriptyline doesn't
work without alcohol to what's desired as the lullaby
effect prior to K.O. - don't measure up to a veteran,
he'll beat you with experience, given it works -
i can imagine why hallucinogenics aren't metabolically
affecting - too much implants concerning the
world beyond, and god, and the secret of the universe -
you can't get addicted to these things - because there's
the bad trip, and you're off the hook - no more spiritual
trips looking for answers - repetition of the everyday
kills it off like flicking off a light switch - but, years
after the Beat movement, the Beats really did underestimate
the addiction of marijuana - they thought it was
the ****** drunk... oddly enough marijuana is linked to
alcohol and ****** addiction, it too is metabolic -
i'm not a medical expert... but i have heard of stoners
and their munchies - anything relating to food,
to metabolism is included, marijuana is the middle-guy
between the standards and Disney -
you heard of being monged, right? marijuana is as addictive
as alcohol - originally a giggly drug, a conversation
starter - marijuana - ends up being
an Jason Segel and Ed Helms film Jeff, who lives at Home,
it's this uncontrollable effect that proper intentions of
marijuana have: supreme thoughtlessness - or
the present vogue concerning "mindfulness" -
Jeff basically overthought himself on the high - he didn't
detach himself from thinking, now he's paying the price -
he's making completely random associations -
and why do stoners always waste their time in front
of t.v. or television - marijuana is a purely auditory drug -
******* to the park, pretend to be a fake Buddha imitation
and create the void in yourself to make your mind
the M25 at 3 a.m. - but this innocence with the Beat
movement associating itself with marijuana is partly
why it was legalised - the government wants rejects and,
to be frank? retards - that's why they legalised it -
they knew with the munchies jokes that marijuana had
the same metabolic addiction components as alcohol and
***** - you're metabolic dude! once addiction sets in
you're no longer in control of brain-freeze - you didn't
think it up on the psychoactive Everest - when the nice
sensation was still there, marijuana realised you zombie much
later - all the in-jokes of stoner culture suddenly passed you,
simulation dementia ensued - i'm way past the psychoactive
asset of alcohol, no slurred speech, no nothing -
but i retain the psychoactive point of metabolising excess
alcohol: if i didn't, i would sleep! i wouldn't sleep!
don't get me wrong, i get the point that i can't really
experience the negatives of reaching the psychoactive purpose
of alcohol and ***** in a street or join the football hooligans -
and surgeons drink to calm the nerves and calm the hand -
but alcohol is more cool headed and less phantasmagorical
than ***** addiction, for one thing your palette improves -
you find the most boring tasks liberating -
but the nights are the real nights, esp. if slumped on the sofa
watching t.v., unless you don't have a backlog of un-watched
Versailles or Billions episodes, you really need to go for
a 4 mile walk and breath the air - then half-sleep for
about an 2 hours (because you have limited money and
sometimes you pass a day without Auburn Whitney) -
you become rigorous - the prime solipsism - no time for
girlfriends, doesn't matter, my genitals weren't mutilated
as a child, no one forced a ****-*******-marriage-ring
on my finger - i can actually enjoy addiction - i end up
eating one meal a day - of course my face looks candyfloss
puffed up - but my soul is partly helium pubescent -
alcohol addiction is not ***** addiction even both
are primes of metabolism takeovers - no hung-overs too,
no blackouts - no fake "i can't remember" stories
when something ****** up happened - and certainly no
innocent look at the fact that marijuana is also a metabolic
addiction - unless of course you limit psychic ingestion
(excluding music, music is great to arrive at thoughtlessness),
but as most stoners (the next alcoholics) prove,
garbage the mind with American Dad and then get hungry -
binge eat - the stomach can drag the brain right down
into the acid pit and fry it - zombies galore - you won't be
able to catch yourself stopping thinking, the stomach
will do that for you, and you'll enter the zombie apocalypse:
just like my neighbour - there's a rat-like ritual involved,
for example, most people get sleepy from marijuana -
so it's not an addiction standing at a bus stop
pretending to be waiting for a bus and smoking?
that's addiction - the metabolic Gargantua has already caught-up,
addiction is primarily a solitary affair - it just depends
what you do with it... i'd be ashamed with my alcoholism
if i didn't write poems - the counter-effect is that i feel
some sort of social-inclusion when the day finishes -
i feed the cats, write invoices for my father (40% of
18 - 35 year olds live with their parents, because all
the foreigners bought all the houses intended as: buy to let -
is my money going down my drain, or is this
a post-Freud Oedipus stigmata killing familial relations
altogether?), cook, clean the house once a week,
cut the cats' nail and brush them - and to counter
what i don't do? can you imagine listening to a symphony
with only violins playing? not so genius hearing that
sort of Hollywood story with only cameo characters speaking.
I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it----

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a **** lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
0 my enemy.
Do I terrify?----

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying
Is an art, like everything else,
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.

It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart----
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash ---
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there----

A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
Jemma May 2016
Hey there,
I am me. Me am I.
A black beauty am I.
The sun smiled at my body and turned my skin into its own little chocolate factory.
Several shades of a dazzling dark complexion.
A black beauty am me.
As I walk, the view of my curves captivates the attention of all those looking on.
Wow they say, **** isn't she fine.
A black beauty am I.
People often underestimate my potential but they don't know that there's more to me than meets the eye.
My intelligence allows my voice to be heard because I excel at everything I do.
A black beauty am me.
A warrior, a fighter, a lover and a friend. I am a black beauty who believes in the power of sisterhood
to uplift rather than tear down;
to encourage rather than discourage;
to dream rather than to fight.
Not only am I beautifully black but I am me and me am I...Black beauty....
saint Nov 2013
Afraid to write- some real feelings might surface.
Even if you accept it, I might not be able to write back.
With my obscene depression and an emptiness of guilt,
Reassuring you to never putting trust in my hands,
Don’t get me wrong, I want you more than anything.
Thinkin bout you every evenin’.
You slowly forget me with memories every now and then.

I’m slowly forgetting how to write,
Just like every Buddhist nightmare
My temples are caving in.
Fingertips relying on the flow rather than the knowledge,
Once an unknown rock is placed,
All my memories are re faced.
Satans eyes are on me
He’s realizing gods guard is no longer with me,
It’s not worth the lies,
It’s not worth the guilt,
Above the clouds yet my mind is so clear.
With nonsense in my plane and no one to steer.
Cabin shaking is just my memories shivering,
Nightmares to my mother,
I never wanted to see her quivering.
Times are hard but the life is tough.
Fighting through weeds with my two inch sword,
Never wanted to smoke yet I’ve never craved it more.
Someone help me cause I’m never making it through.
A doctor can understand but I need a therapist to get me.
Even though I’d never tell her anything because who is she?
She got secrets, she never speaks.
Although mine are straight from the fires and hers from the smoke.
Realizing you’re looking down on me like white folks.
Never wanted this for my family but its a curse disguised as a blessing,
Something they’ll never understand.
Fighting my demons even though I know they’ll never leave me.
You’ll never see me talk about how I feel without a rhyme at the end,
I’d just be speaking gibberish without a message to send.
I know I’m crazy but ill never admit it,
Never pay for classes,
I don’t want your visits.
Learning to cope with my disabilities
So I’m dealing with you.
Learning to never underestimate your enemies
So I’m measuring you.
I’m slowly forgetting how to write,
Just like every Buddhist nightmare
My temples are caving in.
Fingertips relying on the flow rather than the knowledge,
My demons play well with yours so I guess that’s a bonus.
Relying on myself, no trust is given,
Fighting your myths, truth be tellin’.
I’ll never understand your intention, pray for me in heaven.
I find it hard to summon the world,
With the sickness on my mind and the lifted virtues in my soul.
Thinking my flows quicker than ocean rapids gives you a higher IQ.
And if you’re just saying that to make me smile then I thank you.
Many people in this world underestimate the righteousness of us.
Thinking you’re born evil is dissing the beauty of a child,
Rather than acknowledging and accepting his smile.
The warmth that fills the heart when she says daddy as you walk though the door,
Or the tears that overflow your eyes when he never comes back from the store.
I understand these problems because my dreams consist of your life.
So before you call me a liar,
Understand my trials,
My deep realization,
I’m the only one unlike a choir.
Listen to your heart and to this rap.
They both beat for you.
One keeps you alive and the other makes it worth it.
The beat of a drum and the snare of a set tell you you’re not worthless.
Understand your weaknesses and they will become deep,
Redefine your intelligence and it will become the thing that keeps
You out of harm and boosts your wisdom to become a great man.
Wars greater than the world occur inside your mind when they slowly unfold.
Never really  understanding anything except why you’re sad,
Facing your consequences earns back your title of being a man.
I’m slowly forgetting how to write.
Just like every Buddhist nightmare,
My temples are caving in.
Fingertips relying on the flow rather than the knowledge,
Listen to these flows, you got it
ls Aug 2018
They say never to underestimate
the rage of a woman
but what we should not underestimate
is the touch of a woman
for that is what will break you
sending you insane
with desire.  

Spinning through all seven deadly sins.

From gluttony through to lust
pride through to envy
anger through to greed
leaving you at sloth
avoiding all else that matters
craving only;
the touch of a woman.
Ocean Eyes Apr 2017
Somewhere in the world a young girl sits with her headphones in and music blaring strikingly loud Listen delicately and you’ll hear the pain in the words from a writer who is proud to share their work to an entire crowd
A writer who’s
Words are  so well spoken...
They give you the blues
She feels so broken
from glass which has shattered
And left her with  cuts and bruises
Everyone she loves she loses
So much so that all she can do is
Sit there and do what she always does
she abuses herself
Now a boy comes by with a bright smile
and a brand new toon and he says
The words she’s always needed to hear
He says it without any sort of fear
Because he has no fear
He says it so clear
It brings a tear to his own eye
Hello there, my dear,
what’r ya listen’ to?
Come on, don't be shy
The girl looks up with her shattered eyes
and broken heart and says what she has trained herself to,
“Nothing new”.
He takes off his hood
And he spoke as he stood
Just as any strong person would
Nothing that’s good
Nothing that will help you in the way everything should.
Let me save you
I could help you get through
The pain that you’re going through
Let me help you see the world in a new hue
Do you know who
Who what?
Who you are.
Strive to be the best version of you
Try to be entirely true
true to..?
True to yourself
Make is so they rue the day they ever tried to
Stop you or hurt you
but, that's what they do… what's the point?
Because darling that's how you do it
You show them the day where
despite all the broken glass
and sass
you flew
Don't do this
it won't help you through
Fight like the warrior I know you can be
Be free
despite the cuts on your face
and the glass stuck to your knee
Free like the waves at sea
Free like the wind that creates those waves
And flies for miles and brings new smiles
and entwines itself perfectly into the branches of the old oak tree
the same wind that helps the leaves fall from that tree
helps the leaves be free
and the tree is lifted from its year-long burden
like wind, help liberate everyone and every thing
and be what they're supposed to be
the wind that blows unrelentingly
and apologetically
with continuous glee
Show them that you are the key
Because we’re all the key
to someone's locked door
Because everyone keeps something hidden
Inside their house or their room or a glass box
Everyone has something that they lock away
And houses have windows
People like to break windows
Like they break your spirit
Don't let them
some might throw rocks in at the windows
To create more shattered glass and sad eyes
because windows are the houses eyes
Some might sneak their way in
when you forget to close the window you left open
Because you wanted to feel the wind on your skin
but they aren't welcomed so break-ins don't count
be the person who stops those break ins
remember, you are a house and though your windows may be broken
You’re still standing strong
Your bones are keeping you upright
And your foundation--your faith-- it remains
and take in all of your own glory
because darling you are glorious
honestly miss,
its ludicrous
how gorgeous you are
and how you don't see it
how don't you see it?
It's really a pity
that you're so pretty
especially with those shattered eyes
eyes that have seen so many lies
eyes that just want to hide
please don't hide from me.
you don't see that you're
New York City
you never sleep
there's never a moment where you don't make a peep
some think you're a bit of a creep (you're not)
but in the end you make everyone feel welcomed
But you yourself don't feel welcomed
Why don't you feel welcomed
Who told you that your body was a toy or a tool
They were a fool
No, they weren't cool
darling, show them you rule
You wish your body was clay
That way you could shape yourself into whatever they want to
You could do whatever they say
but darling I pray
That someday
you'll show everyone just how much
you slay
Slay, girl. You’re a fighter.
The girl smiles in a new, healed sort of way
in a way you can't help but to hope will always stay
kind of like how you hope the new puppy doesn't stray
although sometimes it does
on occasion, puppies run away
but, hey, that's okay
because you have to have the courage to run after it
and search it out
sometimes it's hard
but you can't pout
happiness is worth it
Never underestimate the power of positivity  
But also never underestimate the power of negativity
Both can consume you
If you let it
And never, don't you ever, underestimate the things you say
they count they matter and hey
often, they can save the day
Go save someone's day.
kay Apr 2014
Don't write me off as apathetic because you don't understand me.
I am mountains sobbing in earthquakes.
I am rivers screaming in floods.
I am bridges laughing into splinters.
I am systems crashing and burning out with a wink of light.
I am a wildfire in skin and clothes and I would destroy you if I showed you my true self.
Do not underestimate my emotions because you do not see them.
Chris Killeen Oct 2013
Understanding a
Notion, of
Devotion and
Emotion, is
Really a
Essential, but
Subsequental
Temperamental,
Impossible to
Maintain, this
Alternate sane,
To never be repeated,
E**nding defeated
Dhaye Margaux Dec 2016
~~
Never ignore a woman's gift
For it's the best thing she could give
Do not underestimate her offer
Never take it for granted or leave
~
She could give you a slice of cake
But she will choose to give you a whole
Her gift could be little in your eyes
But it's the total of her heart and soul
~
A woman's gift is not for the eyes
But for the spirit of those who feel
So never ignore a woman's gift
It is for you if you are real
~~
My second piece chosen for the Daily.
Thank you so much, dear readers and co-writers.
Becky Littmann Jun 2014
Some days I swear my brain in burning....
Just can't ignore it, it's too distracting
& honestly quite disturbing
But the ******* just keeps on occurring
****!!....See I can feel it now, it's returning
I don't know what the **** is going down in my brain
It's so intense & twisted, I  wouldn't even begin to know how to explain....
....I suppose, maybe, it's like you're trippin' on acid while listening to Black Hole
Sun  or Acid Rain
There's so much going on, it's more than I can handle, too much to contain
& this happens daily, pretty soon it'll be all sanity ****** into the drain
Now see.....there it went, just as quickly as it came
It's a complete & utter mind **** game
Just when I start to enjoy it
It tells me, JUST KIDDING, I QUIT!!!
I'm getting ******* tired of its ****!!
Either go away & don't return
Or ******* stay & commit
But this come & go
None sense I'm beginning to really ******* hate
I'm not interested in what you're dishing out upon your plate
Because every time I attempt to sample off it, I end up in some twisted mental
state
Locked away for not two, three or four days double that!!
YUP ******* EIGHT!!
After finally coming back to reality
& clearing up my damaged mentality
Yup, there goes a little more of my integrity
Before you know it, I'll be judged by the eyes of society
But you know what....
**** IT, it will only make better & I'll remain, still, with my sick ***
personality
So bring it on random feeling
Throw your worst at me,
You'll get 86'd like Al Kapone
I'm now in savage mode
Nothing's going to mess with me, not even your tightest hold
So tell me.... "How does it feel to be shut out in the cold?"
I've figured out your evil mission & it sure as hell will be made
IMPOSSIBLE!!
Because this girl right here is simply unstoppable
So hurry up & hop back on your little tricycle
You wouldn't want to freeze up now, like a popsicle
&& that's how you win a fight without once getting physical
So here I'm left to sit alone
All I'm left with are pupils noticeably dilated
After my brain was rudely invaded
Like it was a trap house getting ransacked & raided
But I was done being mind ****** & violated
With all I had in me I fought & I can proudly say I MADE IT!
So the results are in....
&& guess what *******....I WIN!!
Kara Jean Nov 2017
I pretend to love the cold
You have a point, I'm destroying my soul
I'm filled with despair
I pretend like I don't care
I feel every tear
I tell myself don't live in fear
Still I hear your voice telling me I will be "there"  
Sometimes I want to disappear
My pain is near
My fire is inviting
I will grow my weakness each night
Don't underestimate my fight
Santiago Jan 2015
FULL TIME DEAN'S HONOR
PHI THETA KAPPA SOCIETY
PRESIDENT'S HONOR

0944 ENGLISH 103 3.00 C SU
0174 MUSIC 111 3.00 A SU
1682 MATH 115 5.00 B NDA
3041 SPEECH 101 1 3.00 B SU
1619 MATH 125 5.00 B SU
4040 SPANISH 1 5.00 A SU
0271 THEATER 110 3.00 B SU
0845 CAOT 064 1.00 P CS
0939 ENGLISH 211 3.00 A SU
3448 HISTORY 043 3.00 A SU
0941 ENGLISH 102 3.00 A SU
1569 HEALTH 011 3.00 A SU
1696 MATH 112 3.00 B NDA
3450 POL SCI 001 3.00 A SU
3479 PSYCH 001 3.00 A SU
0921 ENGLISH 101 3.00 A SU
1550 GEOLOGY 001 3.00 B SU
1812 PERSDEV 020 3.00 A CS
2920 PHYS SWIMMING 1.00 A SU
4542 GEOLOGY LAB 2.00 A SU
4652 MATH 105 3.00 B NDA

Assessment: Completed
Orientation: Completed
Counseling:  Completed

Consumnes River College
Transcripts Not Included
Chrysta Ashlock Feb 2013
My Perfect Stranger,

I have a proposal of sorts; I want to start writing a story, in which you are my partner in crime. The crime being – living without one another. Not being sure to know if we’ll ever be apart of one another’s lives again.
Scratch that – the crime, the crime would be a lie because in truth I want to begin a story to where you are my partner in crime, yes; but you’d be my partner in crime for life. We’d commit no crimes, speak no lies, confess all truths with the bluntest honesty that could spring forth from our hearts. Enjoy every possible moment spent together, for they have become few and far apart.
This is not just a start of any typical story, but it will be the start of our story. The real story – It can’t be written, it can’t be spoken by anyone other then you and I. We’re the only ones who know how our story begins, though we’ll never truly know how it’ll end. This is a second chance, if not the first chance.

“A kiss is what tells the beginning to every story… It’s up to you where that story will lead.” –me.

The past may be the past, but we lived in that past, and the past that once was will become recognized, if it has not already. It will not be viewed harshly as it should be. Every possible thing that occurs in life does so for a reason which only fate, or as some people come to say destiny, can tell. We live to forgive and forget, though nothing is truly forgotten. We are here to make mistakes then to learn from those mistakes; if one was to never make a mistake then they’re not truly living a life well lived.

“Welcome the future with open arms; embrace it like an old friend. Learn to forgive and forget the painful memories; keep your tears at bay; have faith in yourself and others. And mostly, remember that love and trust will always be your guiding light into the darkness.” –me.

“Everything happens for a reason; don’t underestimate those reasons… You live to forgive and forget and to move along with the life you’re leading. Therefore, with that said, don’t waste time with melodrama or pity arguments. Don’t put up with people who attempt to drag you down with them. Because I can guarantee that those people; the ones who try to play you like a cheesy board game are never worth a single breath escaping your lips. Those are the ones who will never find happiness, true happiness, bliss, No, they’ll forever be lonely. Keep moving forward, look onto brighter horizons. Love the ones you hold close to your heart. Cherish your children. Lead your own life, not someone else’s, nor let any other being lead yours. Smile. Kiss. Love. Trust. Be honest with yourself and with others. It’s all worth it in the end.” –me.

Maybe our largest mistake together was making stupid decisions when we met. We made the choice to fall in love, to date, to live together and try to be happy all within a mere week of meeting. In doing so, hearts wound up broken; smashed into stardust. Trust was ripped away and friends were lost.
This time, this time will be different. I, in this beginning, will tell you of me. I will tell you everything which has occurred throughout my life, it may be the past, but my past tells a lot of who I was which has made me, well, me. I will be bluntly honest with you. I will answer every question you could possibly fathom to ask me. It’s just, I don’t know where to begin…

“The past will never cease to constantly be snipping at your heels with every step you take; it’ll always be there to remind you who you are and what paths you’ve chosen to lead you to where you are. Don’t break promises, don’t break hearts, because it’s happened before; your sometimes overwhelming past can come toppling down on you at any given moment; so be careful. There’s no one who wants to slip, fall face first, losing all consciousness into what once was.” –me.

“People change… I’ve seen friendships fall apart and relationships destroyed. It happens. Truth hurts. People lie. People cheat. Everyone destroys someone else in some way, it’s an ever going cycle of life. Live your life. Even when something unexpected comes alone, enjoy it, love it. It’s all worth it in the end. I can promise you that.” –me.

“Not everyone can read me like a story book or a torn out page of your favorite fairy tale. There’s more to me then just that. My life, better yet, my story is more complicated then most may think.
I used to be the girl that you would see walking alone down the street at night, cigarette in hand, bag in the other, all the while letting the world completely pass me by. I was the girl with the electric green nail polish and nearly enough eyeliner on my eyes to last most girls the entire year. Though all I am to most is just another pretty face.
There’s always new lives forming, coming alive, seeing this rundown movie for the very first time. Then there are also lives ending, running away from a failing life. Praying that the next world is better then the one they left in their very wake.”
–me.

Let’s begin like this; I am complicated, spontaneous, gullible, unnaturally trusting of others and a big ball of confusion at times. I care too much for others, even when they’ve chewed me up, spit me out and kicked me around in the dirt, I still care. I hand out second chances like a stranger hands children candy from his van. One would assume I would have learned my lesson of doing such nonsense, but nonetheless I continue to forgive too easily. My heart throbs when I am upset and feels as if it is going to burst wide open so all of the world can see. I have the unfortunate tendency to bottle up how I feel because my thoughts process too quickly and I become speechless because the words I am trying to speak just refuse to form into speech.

“Trust; it’s a highly important factor in ones life. I have very little for those I have met here, all except for one in which I trust completely with my life, my heart, my child… Yes, I may be very trusting, but that trust only lasts until you’ve broken it… Everyone of you thus far, besides that one person has broken my trust. So therefore those of you who broke my trust can go **** yourselves and relinquish yourselves from my life; it’ll be much better without you. And you know exactly who I’m referring to.” –me.

I fall in love too easily and too quickly; as you have first handily witnessed. I do intend for that to change, which, with my most recent excuse of a relationship I came to realize that it has changed. I never fell in love with him, I never had a true attachment, just annoyance. There is no excuse to why the relationship was even formed to begin with, let alone why it lasted more then a few short days. That relationship is over now, and that relationship will never get a second chance like others have.
I have changed; I’m no longer the person I once was. I still care and I still love, but I’m no longer the me I used to be. After our first run around, something switched off, or maybe even on inside me. I don’t fight, I may argue my point but it has no intentions to cause any harm. I began to communicate my feelings more, even though it seems to do no good.
I believe that everyone deserves to be happy, and I look for the good in everyone, that’s why I constantly push and try so hard, to bring out the better and happier person in those I am trying to help. And it seems to be the people I end up dating are those I subconsciously am looking to help; I am drawn to those who are in dire need of change without ever realizing so. It’s like a test I’m giving, and so far everyone has failed. I feel as if I’m here to help others, to make their lives better even though sometimes it may not seem like I’m trying to help at all; but I really am.

“People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave. A soul mates purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life, then introduce you to your spiritual master.” – Elizabeth Gilbert

I have had many bad run-ins in this short life I have lived thus far. I became pregnant at seventeen and I was far from ready to have a child of my own; I was still a child who needed to experience more of life before bringing another life into this cruel world. In result my child was removed from my care because I fell into the hands of disastrous acts. I met the wrong people whom only drug me down farther along with them. I fought and I fought to get her back in my arms, and after a year I finally did. Though now, I look at her and I feel as if she belongs to someone else. I don’t have the bond which I should have with my daughter and no matter what I try it just won’t spark. This is a terrible confession, but it is of the truth. I catch myself more and more looking at my baby and asking myself if this is really real. Asking myself where has time gone? I missed so much of her growing up that it’s tearing me to pieces now, years later. Nothing seems to be real anymore. I need that bond between me and my child more then I need anything else, because she is my shining light in this world.

“I can’t find reality; my reality has just become a non-stop ride through hell and back. Send someone to shine a light as bright as a shooting star so I can find my way back to what my reality should be realistically.” –me.

I, myself am indeed an open book, mostly unwritten. All you ever need to do is ask me questions… Tell me of yourself – open up to me completely; because if you can tell me everything and if you can tell me everything that has been hidden, I can do the same. Be adventurous with me, be spontaneous; do things you never thought you would fathom of doing. Live with an open mind to the future; because our future could be blindingly beautiful, and then again it could also be terribly tragic. Though we will never know until we try; that’s how life works, as you’re well aware.

Though I am afraid that the beginning is coming to a slow halt; so I am asking this of you – please consider being my partner in crime, to help me continue writing our story, our fairytale. It may be the most adventurous challenge we’ll ever come across in our lifetime.
I do hope I provided a well spoken beginning, telling of some, let’s say “important” points of me and my past. Just remember, I want to find what once was lost; I want it to be found properly from both parties involved. Maybe we’ll be some of the lucky ones who’ll, one day find true blissfulness; just maybe.


Your Perfect Stranger
this is also NOT a poem... this is a letter I never sent to my "perfect stranger", my ex, the true love of my life even though I never sent it to him.
written: 7.07.12
Classy J Nov 2016
Diving into bath salts, raving flue that is as sicking as math, at least that is what I conclude from my findings presented to the court. Objection, objection, sir I don't see the connection, maybe your rhyme scheme needs perfection. Maybe it does, but ***** it, I'm blessed by God; baby please sit down and take a chill pill and just enjoy this buzz. Busting off, so back off, bout to prove my case like I’m Ace Attorney, oh and I know it’s off topic but if I lived in America, I would’ve voted for Bernie. What the **** am I on? Came to save the digital world you can call me a digimon, you bet I’m a champion! Serendipity dear deputy; I’ll be typically wittingly searching for some tranquility. What is the validity of this vicinity as I only accept notability and won’t let this become a liability!

Pathologically paraplegic hypochondriac with insomniac who be popping poems profusely perfect; while whimsically worm's try to be strategic, but sadly choke and lose it. Miles set apart; it certainly is not a strut in some park, but everyone has to start somewhere before they engrave their mark. Don't reside yourself to just being a silhouette, nor be one to toot your clarinet. Two sides to every person like Dr.Jekyll and Mr.Hyde; be careful to not let your pride turn into carbon monoxide. For pride will always lead to your downfall, so please take off your iron curtain and tear down your Berlin wall. Improvident incongruous incredulous confidence; underwhelming astonishment of such fundaments of these heinous and callous acts of deceitfulness. Trickery of thy decadence; why art though jittery when you are full of benevolence? So used to getting what you want I bet; well this situation can not be fixed by dough, so I see why you are in a cold sweat! Fake confidence won't help you here especially when one lies; you made a mistake and will face the consequences and I am not one quick to forgive no matter how much you apologize.  

Don’t have time to consider your sensibility, because my life is going a twitter with too much hyperactivity for me to deal with your stupidity. Befittingly that I’ll be building up the intensity, to infinity and beyond goes this creativity of this anomaly. Not going to prolong this phenomenon, I’ll be going off like a Molotov over this intercom, yeah you better not ever underestimate this underdog. Lackadaisical are these other rappers; they’re so replaceable and incapable to be educational. Incomprehensible is this loop of hip-hop now a days, why can’t we be inspirational or is it to late because we left morals and substance back in the olden days. Can’t afford to be anchored anymore, I’ve poured in too much time to be just be locked behind some door. I refuse to be ignored and be left ashore; I am not worried about going into the storm; because you are bound to come across some things that need some work like chores. Spinning the wheel, reminiscing of how it felt when I no longer concealed who I was and my self-image had been healed.

Used to be reclusive & convinced myself that I was a duffass, but now I’m exclusive to being a smart ***. This is the new era, this is a new fire; it’s time to spice things up so better pull out the sriracha. Leading the revolution like I’m Che Guevara, I’m light as feather whatever the endeavor even if my life story doesn’t end up as pristine as Cinderella’s. Why so infatuated by worldly wants? Why so decorated when you can't hide the fact that you're the same basic *** font? Trying be something else, striving to be someone else, wanting to be anything else. You are who you are, if you think it will make things better you cucu, because in my eyes you are really a star. You have to expand your interpretation and perspective of life, you have to demand without hesitation a piece of that collective pie; because I believe everyone should be equal in this life.

Calculated bullets that go straight through my cranium; manufactured outlets that show great things but have also turned us into brainless aliens. Complicated hookups that grow irritating and become as unstable as uranium; what was once sacred has become as spontaneous as going to a gymnasium. Confiscated trinkets cast away and leaves those affected very irritate; while also simultaneously making apathetic souls that have gone through the same thing be able to understand, help or relate. Cultivated rebellious culprits that don't take the memo of being cooperative, instead they choose to be provocative and opposite of the other conglomerates. I’m so fascinated by this fabricated segregated supposedly liberated and sophisticated community; where-as some so foolishly stupidly amusingly think that everyone has the same equal chance at opportunity. Moderated, regulated and orchestrated where some are situated; if you don’t think that it has something to do with be affiliated to a certain demographic then maybe you never got educated in the affairs of those discriminated. It’s a good thing then that class is in session; so viewer or listener  please use discretion when taking time to witness or hear my position. Deafening out all ill whims; wrestling with these unsettling menacing fears and guilt from all of my sins.

Yeah no need for hallucinogens, all I need is two hydrogens and one oxygen. Rocking in my moccasins; so you can bet I am not one to drop my promises. Native honour who is also a innovative scholar and who was created not to falter. I may not be good with numbers, but I'm good at making sure you never slumber on my words; because I work on them day and night in my 36 chambers. Beware the pretender, they are manufactured by the vendors to keep us from being together. Defend your heart; be wise who you befriend and who you pick for your counterpart. There will be hurt and affection can be perverted, so know your worth and never ever let yourself be distorted. It is not your fault, it is not my fault, so then who is at fault? Is it just life in general? Is it because of the being who lives eternal? Is it all of the above? I don't know, but we shouldn't judge and instead choose to accept and love!

Pardon me Martin, but if this class were a prison I’d be the warden. I make the rules here and I took the tools given to me to get me here. So listen, please listen to my lesson that I have to present to you as class is still in session. Loading yawl with ammunition to be able to transition to be able to complete your goals or missions. No I’m not tripping, I’m driven  by a higher force to break away the old ways of thinking such as division. This is not the prohibition anymore, so please open your minds and join me on this expedition. Going into the unknown, so here’s to hoping you get through this, as time goes on and be able to look back at it we may feel like this was no more than a tiny but important milestone.  Achieve, believe, conceive, receive, intrigue, and succeed because I think you are unique. You are the only you in the whole galaxy, don’t let agony turn into tragedy; ***** anxiety; yeah and never let your dreams just be some fantasy.

Outro: Sit down class ain't over yet, forfeit those frowns or fake faint or try to jet. Lastly remember what transpired today; don't go hastily and forget about it on December break okay? For though class may be over, more days or years to come until its finally over. Though education ends, one never stops learning even on vacations with family or friends.  I hope you can look back with fondness, I hope you can stay on track in the future if you truly take the time to just focus. Is there truly an end or is this just the beginning to a new bend.
alan spivey Jun 2013
Interview with the Tortoise and the Hare after the race
Commentator: Hare, you had the race may I ask what happened back there.
Hare: no comment
Commentator: but Hare? You had the tortoise by a mile   and as the day progressed, the distance grew shorter. Why, Care to comment?  
Hare: no comment.
Commentator: Ok   let’s talk to the tortoise maybe he can fill in the blanks about the race.
Commentator to the tortoise:  Tortoise would you mind telling us about the fine race you just won?
Tortoise:  Sure my pleasure,  but  forgive me I am slow and it hurts my neck to  look way up at you can you sit where I can see you  a little easier.
(Commentator adjusts   to where the tortoise can see him easier)
Tortoise: Thank you much easier, it really hurts my neck to strain,  any way you asked me to tell about the race.
Well I sure thought that hare had me beat he took off in a flash, me and my short legs  I couldn’t keep up, all I had on my mind is cross the finish line. I knew he had beaten me just by the way he took off from the starting line. But during the race there were times I saw him sitting on the side line talking to people or rummaging through stores along the race route.
I thought ok maybe he needs a break he is running very fast, then by the time I pass where he is at the time I passed him he was running ahead of me once again. Again I thought just get to the finish line at least I  can say I finished the race I can’t turn back now , see I am not a quitter: the tortoise states I was asked to race  against him, knowing he is  seven  times faster than I will ever be.
But something was driving me to continue the race, not to give up take pride in each small step my little legs gave me. Soon again I saw the hare sitting on the side line this time he was asleep.
Funny I thought this is no time to sleep this is a race he is surely faster than I am , he should have already been at the finish line by now I could see the  small red flag way off in the distance, why did he stop here when he is  only a little ways away from winning the race,  I do say I did have to stop  for a minute myself there as well. Poor legs are very tired at that point. But the hare never moved much less saw me sitting right next to him while I also took a break.  So I got up and continued to walk towards the finish line. And here I am the winner of the race.
Commentator:  so at any point did the hare say anything to you during the race as he passed you?
Tortoise : yes , well more he laughed at me as he ran past me and at times would say  : he won the race he won the race.
Commentator:  ok tortoise do you have anything to say to the people watching the race?
Tortoise: well, I guess:  never underestimate what you can do when you put your mind to it. And maybe
Focus on yourself and the task at hand, and everything else will fall into place.
Commentator: Thank you tortoise and very well said, and Congratulations on winning today’s race.
(Commentator to the crowd: ok I will try one more time to interview the hare to hear his story)
Commentator: Hare, one more question if I may ?  Would you mind please tell me your side of the race activities today. And how do you feel about the outcome of  the day’s events.
Hare: Ok , I will answer these two questions  that seems burning in your ears to find out  why the event as it be. I lost the race can’t you see to the tortoise so low to the ground .
How can that be I am faster than he? I passed him at the starting gate and took a break and talked to my fans along the way, then when I saw him coming I took off running passed him by   as if he was standing still     and as I turned around a bend in the road, I took a break and grabbed something to eat and looked around the stores, and bought a few things but I have to go back and pick them up. You cannot run a race with hands so full of bulky objects you know.
So when I saw the tortoise  coming near to where I was I started running once again  this time  I was sure I had won I saw the finish line not far ahead and I  had left a lot of space between him and I so I could rest  , so I closed my eyes  I did not know he had passed me and won the race so when I woke I looked around I did not see him so I was certain  he was still a ways behind me , I did not realize the time was so late so I ran   to the finish line expecting to win the prize . Only to see the tortoise was standing by the trophy.
Commentator: I am sorry to hear that Hare. Is there anything you would like to tell the people watching the race today?
Hare: Yes,  I am bigger and faster than the tortoise is yet he won the race fair and  with honor.as for myself I looked at my size as a definite way to win a trophy that would sit on my mantle only thing I wanted really the race wasn’t  anything.
And along the way I  spent more time  thinking and doing other things instead of focusing on the race ahead. I was so sure I had won and had time to play and chat along the way. I was wrong to think a tortoise could ever win a race against a hare
I guess pay more attention to the thing in front of you at the time, all the other pressing things can be dealt with after a race if it is important enough and you remember to go back to it. Slow down and stay focused I guess  that is what I am trying to say.

                                                           ­                                                   Written by Alan Spivey 6/11/2012
Aaron LaLux Jul 2016
Warning Shots

Yo boy just chill,
I don’t give a fck I’m a muthafckn gangsta,
don’t be fooled by this smile on my face,
nothing funny around this way boy,

I’m from the streets,
don’t underestimate this cracka,
just because I’m white doesn’t mean ****t,
we’re all strapped and we don’t play either,

I’ve had guns in my face,
looked straight down the barrel,
told those jackers they had the wrong guy,
waited a few weeks to sic the bloodhounds on them,

look man,
everything I am is real,
24 karat gold on my neck,
passport full of stamps,
angel wings on my back,
represents my lil sister that passed,
she’s my Guardian Angel,
she watches over me,
I’m not scared of death,
actually I welcome such things,

in the City of Angels,
where you could become one any moment,
born and raised,
from Mulholland Dr. all the way to Crenshaw in Compton,

come on son,
no need to test,
do you know how many mouths I feed,
do you know how many families depend on me,
do you really think that all of these,
cats I know will let you take the food from their mouths?

Don’t be so naive,

please,

just chill,
I don’t give a fck I’m a muthafckn gangsta,
don’t be fooled by this smile on my face,
nothing funny around this way boy,

I’ve really been there,
crack smoke and 40’s,
crackheads suckin’ *****,
used to call them Five Dollar Shorties,

of course we,
now dress well and don’t be startin’ ****t,
when you’re from the streets and had to eat beef,
once you get out you don’t want any part of it,

I started with,
no money not even a dollar,
and the best part about becoming self made,
is now I don’t have to be bothered,
I don’t have to engage with losers,
I don’t have to waste time with broke fcks,
I don’t have to engage with haters,
I don’t have to quarrel with the hopeless,

I wrote this,
as a warning and as a lesson,
the warning is don’t fck with us,
unless you come offering blessings,

the lesson is you can make it to,
if you just stop hating dude,
and if you want to try and take it dude,
trust me I’ve got gorillas that would just love breaking you,

I know guys with monster hands,
they could lift you up by your face,
then crush you whole skull in,
what part of don’t fckn fck with us do you not understand?

Yo boy just chill,
I don’t give a fck I’m a muthafckn gangsta,
don’t be fooled by this smile on my face,
nothing funny around this way boy…

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

Volume 1
The H Trilogy
The City of Angels
I just published a new book.
If you could take a moment to check it out,
and even write a review it'd be most appreciated.
All profits go to a charity that prevents child abuse and ****** assault.
So not only are you getting an epic book of poetry,
but you're also supporting a good cause.
Thank you SO much!

https://www.amazon.com/Trilogy-City-Angels-Aaron-Lux/dp/1535054328
Straight Up
There is beneath us the progenitor and we call it “Mother”. Above us is the progenitor and we call it “Net” for it takes us and tosses us into the known and the unknown.

Our home star is not as bright as yours. We prefer your temperate lands when we visit, where the vegetation is lush and green. Those of us who remain inhabit your deserts and open spaces.

We are your brothers and sisters. Our development has been to grow in awareness and the development of our power. You have the potential to develop as we have, but your instincts are of a social group who need dominant members. You develop your material reality and your physical world. Your anchor is fixed and you grip the familiar and reject the unknown. There is a comfortable point where you feel the fullness, that is the anchor. In order to maintain this as a static point you develop belief systems to support it. This is your weakness, you are innocent children.

We grew and developed along another pathway, our anchor is not  rigid. We use Net for our anchor and so are able to change our perceptual reality. We move in ways that you do not understand and in any direction. We draw the fibers of Net around us and jump and fly. You see us only from your anchor point so that you see us change shape, appear and disappear.

Our voices and languages are barely accessible to you. You hear deep sounds and high pitched chirruping and whistling. Very few among you have remnants of language incorporating any of these. Those remaining are as clicks and whistles. We prefer direct communication.

We are masters of illusion. Our survival has depended on it and it is our instinct.
Our power developed so that when we pull around us the fibers of Net we create a shield and throw an illusion before those who depend on vision. It is one of our protections and also our hunting technique. We are hidden from your material probes and instruments of increased sight in this way.

Although we have been close neighbours for aeons, you have hardly seen us, except for the Few. Your interpretations have created problems for you. Your reliance on the anchor is so great that some among you do go to great lengths to maintain it. There are those among you who will silence the Few rather than lose the fixed anchor.

You are infants only, a seeding coming to fruition, and you play with dangerous toys. Your anchor is geocentric. You are in danger as is any youngster who plays with fire. If we showed you ourselves openly your rulers would not be gentle in their curiosity. We have technology and use material tools but we have had less to restrict us. We held back your development as much as we were able to enable you to develop power of the mind and independent thought.

Your grasp of Net is strong but you are rigid and anchored. You have learned to stand up and hold on. Now is the time to let go and walk, let go and run, let go and fly.

Around what you name “body” and believe to be “All” is more that you do not perceive with your restricted vision sense. You are aware of this. If you will learn acceptance and filter less from your senses, you will find the beauty of the universe of energy around you and available. A small perceptual shift would show you how you appear to those of us outside your narrow sphere.

Your body has filaments, which when translated to sight, appear as small moving threads which shine with rainbows. They move and ripple inside an energy body of light. This is your true body. It has abilities and senses that are dormant as you do not access them. They are accessible but as your anchor renders you blind to this you do not use them without intense effort or instinctively in extremity. The filaments are drawn together and pass through the anchor. Depending upon your ability to select filaments of the Net, your habitual plane and reality is selected and determined.
Those among you with abilities in your energy senses you ostracise and even ******. You succumb to misinformation to treat them as fools or freaks. This may be instinctive but it is a control mechanism to perpetuate the anchor and maintain the hive of your artificial society. So due to this, you have even less sense of true reality as it could be to you, by breeding out and suppressing your gifts. We have attempted to rectify this with limited effect in successive seedings.

You may notice that our words to you have reference to sight. Your terminology is geared to vision. You rely on visual information  so much that you have neglected physical senses of taste and smell, hearing, touch and proximity. Compared with our perceptions you are as blind as a mole is compared to to your visual abilities.

Your construction of reality is so anchored that your dangerous inclination to gather around you artifacts gives to you a sense of permanence. You are anchoring yourselves in time, yet to you it is dead because your senses are dead. There is an opportunity for your predators to use this to enforce your perception of, and control you within, your anchor's limitations. In this way, producing written or pictorial and symbolic records in permanent form is beneficial only so far as understanding continues to exist of the conditions under which these records were left. By changing current understanding and language to suit their purposes, your enforcers are able to manipulate your branch of humanity on a large scale.

You seal yourselves into the rejuvenation plane of the Mother progenitor where you feed and breed. It is so pleasurable to you to stay within this cocoon of reality that you fail to open your cast and therefore fail to fly into the spaces of Net outside where your true inheritance lies. The end result of this is greed and unrest. Your greed is paramount to you as you seek ever more pleasurable gratification. You enslave one another, buy and sell time and forget what you are. You are allowing the destruction of your home world. Without the home world you will have no place of rejuvenation, and worse neither will the myriads of others who share this progenitor.

There is a song from each mother progenitor within Net. It is a combined song and made up of the host progenitor together with silent voices of each and every life form. Together from each home world, the inhabitants send out a pulse. This is not a song from one species of a world but rather it is a song from all species, in fact every particle of every organism that lives.

To our developed senses the song of a world is brighter than the star it orbits. They are filaments of Net. The varied forms of life all send out their unique song. Many of us interact, harmonise, visit, commune and combine. You feel isolation only because you fail to harmonise and join your own song.

In your past and present we have felt the song of your world. Those of us belonging are part of that song. It is the song of being from the many. It does not end at the perimeters which you imagine. You have a problem in that, for the majority, you do not join your voices to the song. Mainly it is in dreaming, in childhood and in old age that we hear you.

We attempted to observe and commune and found many of you receptive to us. We have taught to you methods of development and given you gifts and tools. You have kept and preserved some of this knowledge only for a select few. Fears and distrust among others has caused destruction of a great proportion of the gifts that we have given to you. We found many lines of breeding where potential for development was possible. Your greed and your predator class destroyed many of them due to the competitive desire to have power over others.

In past seedings upon your progenitor and in the oldest times of your present incarnation, we have been known well and respected. Acknowledged for our seniority and loved as cousins. You did call us gods to distinguish our abilities. Then what did you do? Your control mechanisms changed the meanings of your language, whole languages were lost in wars over territory. You developed power structures and religions. Powerful rulers accumulated and isolated your shared knowledge.

You reduced your development by selective education in the Way. Territorial disputes and greed over resources divided you. You ceased to listen to the Mother. Instead of harmonious living which you had managed in agreement with each other already, you were divided by hormonal impulses, insecurity, violence and greed. The natural openness of the female within it's central domain became enclosed, imprisoned and the natural desire of the male to outwardly discover and interact was turned inwards until it became a sedentary desire for dominance within the female domain. You lost the harmonics of the song. Your religions underestimate the power of borrowed tools. Your ruling classes made deals that they didn't understand, with predators they didn't recognise, in order to save themselves.

We stood on ground over ground and were called Immortals. We gave you wisdom and were called Kings. We moved and played among you and were called Jinn. We moved among the small folk and were called Faerie. We appeared in light and were called Angels. We wandered in places where you too did once wander and were called Ghosts and Demons. Those who spoke to us and attempted to impart to your hive our knowledge, you raised as prophets or slandered and ridiculed. You stole their words to make them your own words of power, changing them to your own ends or you murdered the messengers because you feared the changes that increased understanding brings.

You incorporated the experiences of your murdered victims into a celebration of your own power structures, twisted and out of synchronisation with the song. There are some among you who are in communion with the Great Spirit of life. We seek to heal your song, your complete home world song for the benefit of the myriad sentient beings who rejuvenate here, including yourselves. We seek to set you free to wander the threads of Net. It is within your reach but not in the ways that you  are taught.

Your world is about to change and you must change with it as you are a small part of it. Holding the threads into your own anchor point will break them. You have reached inertia, entropy. The movement has to come, it is inevitable. Imagine one of your large machines of cogs and wheels and bars. Your insistence upon a rigid anchor is like a bar within the machine that doesn't move. A point of inertia in a moving system will be removed. This has happened over and over among your kind and our kind in many places and worlds. You do not remember when worlds underwent cataclysm, forgetful of trauma you have followed a similar path.

We travel along pathways of energy, both upon worlds and in the Net. Moving bodies follow these paths. We follow comets and small bodies able to move freely within Net. Net permeates your mother progenitor.

Survivors mapped the movements of Net after the slate was wiped clean and you were reseeded. There is a secret that your rulers are aware of and you are not. The secret is that there are no rulers within Net. You all have the freedom and capability to access true harmony of the song. You allow a faction, to call themselves an elite class. You fear this as a hidden power, a predator. It's aim is to amass Time: a power based on material wealth. They take this power easily as they have taken and twisted truth and history. The gifts are shared among you equally and these few know this. Resources are plentiful and yet you succumb to their restrictions. A predator cannot survive without it's prey. We are not your predators although we move among you. Your predator is within and feeds upon your fear.

You are not in the tribes now, you have no shaman, no guide to take you in and out of the gate and this role cannot be allocated to parasitic Blind Time Hoarders. These whip up your passions and lead you into war and destruction to further their material wealth. It leads you away from the song, as these think to enhance their own survival which it may do but never can as they understand it. They seek to steal your dreams and make them their own, they are helpless without you. They care nothing for the song because they are aware of successive seedings.

Net is a dream reality, changing, immeasurable, boundless, filled with infinite possibilities and you are creators. Blind time hoarders drive you by combining the minds and dreams and belief systems of many to focus onto what they themselves desire, in order to bring it to fruition. They employ dream stealers to prevent your development. They believe that their own song can exist independently and they guide you only to anchor yourselves into your own prison.

All is a dream, all is ephemeral, changing, dynamic. There is no death after death, no damnation on any particular plane. Reality is how you construct your song. Your rulers create inertia for you the many and profit for themselves using you as the tools of your own entrapment. There is no death and no damnation, they are constructs of your reality made by material anchor points and you are controlled by fear of the inevitable. It is a statecraft to use belief systems to control perceptions of reality in order to fix the anchor point to a rigid point of convenience. In this way you are farmed, you are a crop in each seeding. Who seeds you? You seed yourselves. Sentient beings are all naturally regenerated by the mechanisms of Net when conditions exist that are compatible, world after world, in each growth cycle of every celestial body. In the regeneration, holding to your rigid anchor point, you seed into your prison after each cataclysm, each breaking of the inertia.

If you would be open to the mechanisms of the place you inhabit with it's creative forces, it's sentience and it's dynamics you will learn to fly the progenitor Net's pathways and return home for rejuvenation to your progenitor Mother of the tribes.
I wrote this a few years ago. It's a bit long
In each and every moment, there is good and there is bad,
For in each moment, we can be happy or we can be sad.
Every day has it's dawn, every rose has it's thorn,
You never know quite what to expect from the moment we are born.

When things are going good, they're going great,
Never underestimate the cold hands of fate.
At any instant can a situation flip,
In each and everything we do, it is a lucky dip.

We can look back and see, how things were before,
Yet once again have things changed, now whose keeping score?
In a second things went from good to quite bad,
Lost in the moment, now nothing but sad.

I will always wonder whose fault I am to blame,
But, in the end, I and that person are all but the same.
We are, but the same person you see,
The wickedness in him, is the wickedness in me.

Never underestimate the cold hands of fate,
You never quite know if you'll be too late.
Don't take anything for granted,
Keep your feet firmly planted.
Never stop fighting for that which means most,
Forever and ever my dear friend...repost.
In an instant things can change.
This one line can apply to many a things.
For each and every person we relate differently.
But there has come a time in our lives when fate struck us kindly.
In such a turn fate has stricken us
Our wilier webs
woven with the distractions of self-absorption
can come to feel
cheated if we use them
only for halfhearted games of catch
and eventual release.
He’d overlooked that part.
Then there was an obligation to prey
who so willingly strayed upon the taffy
pull of his sweet and sticky strands.
The scrunch up of their wee faces
squeaked, “We deserve
to have our glued-down expectations
met with a most gruesome expertise.”
He’d just wanted to watch them
struggle a smidge,
at first.
It was a test if this muscle the scribes
ascribe as rightly plagued by pangs
was in him
perhaps despicably defective.
With each tripper-by trapped
the examinations grew
more tortuously complex,
and when none raised even
the slightest murmur of a palpitation,
he gave the web its dripped-dry due,
at last.
“The murderous truth will out,”
they say. It did, monstrously.
Now his bound but gagless masques
are always well-attended.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 License.
Madison McCray Jun 2014
maybe there's a reason we don't see our own beauty. it's a strive towards selflessness. it'd be the cause of interference with our capability to see the rest of the world as beautiful as it is. with so many places to go & things to see we forget to notice the eternity within our own soul. we underestimate the scale of life itself. because without your individually unique ways we wouldn't go on to live in this incredulously magnificent world. an outcome of intelligence & stupidity.
Duplicate Virus Mar 2014
I am more than just regurgitated knowledge.
I am more than a statistic.
I am more than just a book worm.
I am more than a nerd.
I am more than just a tough little girl.
I am more than a rebel.
I am more than just the clothes I wear.
I am more than makeup on a face.
I am more than just my father's daughter.
I am more than a sister.
I am more than just a face in the morning.
I am more than a lover.
I am more than just someone.
I am more than nothing.
I
AM
MORE.
Marshal Gebbie Jan 2010
Blondes illuminate
The dizzy world of men,
Confident and forthright
And simply, oozing acumen.
So sensually brazen
In a silly sort of way
Yet intuitively capable
Of leading all of them astray.

Blondes are irresistible
When they catch the errant eyes,
When their pearly, sky blue peepers
Irradiate and mesmerize.
When they catch him glancing
At a nicely rounded ***,
When rosebud lip's apouting
Leave him breathless, limp and numb.

Blondes move in a manner
Which defies all things right,
It's a sweet undulation
Which turns day, straight into night.
It's suggestion incarnate
And quite breathlessly so.
Causing pulses to race
And his expectations to grow.

Blondes think in straight lines
Periferals are lost,
And woe betide myopics
Who underestimate at their cost.
Golden locks breed pushiness
The will to have her way,
And the man who calls a challenge
Won't survive another day.

Blondes are soft and fluffy
Dimpled cheeks and curve of thigh,
And are specialists in the art
Of come hither to the guy.
But just beneath the garnish
Is a mind that calculates
And a passion for success
And a taste for wealth that rates.

Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
19 January 2010
Jellyfish May 2015
It is a crazy thing.
It can make you do things,
You had no intention of doing.
It also can mess up your entire life,
Don't try to underestimate the strife
Trust me, I've learned the hard way.
You don't want to ride that train..
The results weren't at all fun.
But I can still see the sun.
I sometimes wonder,
If he still does?
I believe so
Yes.
Reagan Kulka Aug 2014
people often underestimate me,

i am either

to dumb,

or to unskilled.

i am

to weak,

or to busy.

i am

to fat,

or to sad.

when in reality all i am is

m i s u n d e r s t o o d
Robin Carretti Jun 2018
1- MOUTH*ME Ordering
Impress-me_Orange only
Surprise me
_
Lounge-Pop-solo
to believe in me orange wings halo
He's the Popsicle Text$$$He

She is acting like the
baby grand piano
Plays the "Clockwork Orange"
spoiled her
orange cycle pours
out liqueur
Top hat seating he better do quicker
who will be doing the ordering?

The orange smiling the whole world
Is hanging up their coats in the
Rainbow room honey orange glaze
She got her scholarship
drinks just float

Somewhere being checked off
Like an orange popsicle licked off
All fragments "Creme Brulee'
in orange segments
Look at him with the
big portion
 
The check your paying now
you can leave my dream
Titanic ship or the internship

Orange plaid vibrant tablecloths
Lips so tangy nothing
fancy love and honor
Her pooch too smoochy 
Orangey oceans drizzle me touchy
Touch her vibrant lips
she screams
More orange with
good principle
So delectable how his mouth
On the radio air
She lets out to
much air
Her orange peel wedge
Bits and pieces profitable pledge
Orange-grapefruit perfumes
with vanilla cream
She Pops in and he bursts out
To trust her dream you better react
To see her colors
The Ambrosial Business
lady proposal good
American dollar

Pick me I am pungent her gloss
is a big plus
She’s all business cool
vibrant boss

Orange Julius Caesar shower
Exotic oils of orange petal me
What delicacy for the
Gods orange lounge
piece de resistance the
New Orange with persistence.
spiritual love romance
her wicked stance

2.
Her Face ASTRINGENT
SOoothing Vibrant

Her lips juicy gossip
Her juicy lips to burst for
He’s the “Orange Julius Sunshine”

3. Delectable--__ Save me Savory
Finger lakes he gives me
the finger foods

Creamy outnumbered orange
fudge you be
My Popsicle Judge


Oranges segments pancakes to
boost your energy
Underestimate her she will orange
  test your fate don't be late
That well suited Italian Gelato
His eyes like popsicle love
signs her lips orange designed
So well to deliver
Dances of touches pulp fiction river
a burst of Godly Orange sunsets
We all love the change
like an experiment

(No Nuns) wearing orange ruler sticks
Let's flag them down in my convent

The men of Citrus Avanti umm
Refreshing popsicle his dimples
the Ground of Sculptures
The melted like milkshakes
Don't use the John
pulp fiction.

4. SPECTRUM OF COLORS ORANGE

Orange vibrant she screams she could
knock anyone out of her burst dream
The orange starter hard pulp
orange lip gloss what delicacy
piece de resistance the
New Orange with persistence.
Her nails in polka dots
Orange

Firey Islander Exotic hottie
orange lip gloss she looks good
over him
Orange slices love triangles
How the women start to mingle they
love being single their orange
fashionable 27-anniversary good luck
orange you glad I got them
dresses he could eat her up
like a 69 flavor sherbet
how she melts
Orange juice me anytime
how does it pour?
Going on an exotic taste tour
Orange Emerald City

Vivacious so vibrant she
stands out her
smells intoxicating again
Orange mating Vitamin C
The sun craving
Like clockwork her masterpiece
of fragrance a burst of her heart
orange smoothie
wildly orange scent how he
was summoned
onto her with vibrant
words of comments
A burst of the eclipse will be coming
Longevity how he lifts her gravity.

More Vitamin C Orange is all me.
How you can use your intuition
to create miracles in life

Orange moods of shades and peoples personalities all come with
technologies the orange way of thinking isn't it soothing and refreshing like a burst of orange sunshine
Branden Youngs May 2017
Sticks and bones may break your bones
but words...
Words will chew you up, spit you out, and leave you on the bottom of the ocean’s floor.

Then they will breathe a tiny bit of hope into your lungs and drag you back to shore.
As your left gasping for air,
those words will have you begging for more.

Never underestimate the power of words.
Chaos has plagued the world started from prayers that go unheard.
John F Pinto Dec 2013
Seriously? Positive? You’ve got to be joking me.
Optimism at it’s finest could only be realism at it’s worst.
Mesmerized by this thought, enchanted by it’s cold hard consistency
Enthralled was I to mock “positive”, and keep my lips pursed.
Then it hit me. No, it literally hit me.
If I just pound this podium a few times
Maybe I’ll channel some of doc’s “positivity”  pound podium
Ehh, guess that wasn’t a symptom; merely a sign
So what is this “battle plan”, and who really cares about mine?

I’ll tell you who, and it
Took until now for me to understand
Simply smiling is like positive quicksand

Little did I know, nor did I comprehend
Even the tiniest grin is a god-send
The mirror first, then a friend
Tomorrow is uncertain, so I recommend
Investing one in the nearest stranger
Never underestimate the smile, this game changer
Gets some through the day

Give the gift of smiles
Others need this Holiday.

Overall, there’s not even a word you need to say
For a smile is universal in every way.

This was the goal
Here was my contribution to this positive revolution:
Enlighten another soul.

The mirrors we look at every sunrise
Hair tangled, bags beneath the eyes
Internally determining how much this day is going to **** (sighs)
Now, hit rewind and you might be surprised
Getting off to a good start is simply devised:
Smile your warmest, stupidest, squintiest smile: regardless of its size

There is the secret ingredient in the positive pie
Having your hearty morning smile, with eggs on the sunny side
And this idea I vehemently used to deny
Thinking, “smile? In the morning? I’d rather die.”

Heath Ledger once said “Why. So. Serious?”
Ehh, he had a point!
Life can be a joke, especially when we’re delirious
Put the pout to the side, don’t be so furious

Unconditionally accept we all have ups and downs
Smile like an idiot, because aren’t the sounds

Involved with that deep, tear jerking laughter just
Ninety nine times better than a good morning grunt?

All I had to do was send a
Little smile in someone’s direction
Lift their spirits, make a connection

This is who cared about my “battle plan”
Hell, who knows? Maybe I even saved a man.
Ego aside, let’s do the best we can

With others, we can do our best to understand
Right from wrongs done, our own personal brand
Of happiness, that like flames needs to be fanned
Nothing is like that morning smile witnessed firsthand
Give that gift away, make it look easy and unplanned

Why? Because the unexpected gifts are the best
And to this I do attest
Yes, we have all been truly blessed:
Smile at each other and forget all the rest.

I smiled at those who passed, regardless of popular or outcast, and how I’ve seen a change. Doors have opened to relationships and thoughts I never conceived possible for a realist like me, I really was blind but now I see how powerful is this “positivity”. How much have we all grown? These seeds we’ve sown from you, to you, to you, to me, to that kid who sits by himself, to that girl who spilled her iced tea,: these are all the connections we’ve made, and there are more that would and could be if we only smile, say hello (or if we’re really brave) would you go out with me? The morning smile is the first step towards a “yes”, this is my guarantee. A smile is like a master key to all bliss (aaannnnddd maybe even a kiss ;)). Just like a great slam poet once said: “If you’ve got this (head), then you follow this (heart), and if someone ever tries to judge you, you give them this (smile)”.
Jon York Apr 2019
Dear music,
Thanks  for   always
clearing   my   head,
healing   my   heart,
and lifting my spirits.

It's  not  the  song  that
makes  you  emotional...
it'­s the people and things
that come to mind when
you hear it.

All it  takes is 1 song  to
      bring back 1000
                       memories.

One song ---
the lyrics, the melody, the mood ---
can take you back
to a moment in time
like nothing else can.

Each memory has a
soundtrack of it's own.

Music is life. That's why
our hearts have beats.

Never underestimate the healing power of listening to your favorite music on full blast while dancing around the house like an idiot.
                                                          ­                                  Jon York   2019
ryn Jan 2015
.
never
underestimate a

b            o  k             n
r                  e


heart,


that's what sets it
apart...
Kujo Mar 2014
• Keep me posted!
• Look at my hands for a while.
• You can be yourself around me.
• Hold me when I need it.
• Smile when I feel threatened.
• Look me in the eye.
• Think about the effect you have on me.
• Don't underestimate me.
Manas Madrecha Jun 2015
English Transliteration - Satya Sarvopari Sarvaat

Jhoot bolna aam ** gaya, par mahimaa satya ki kam naa aanknaa,
Bheetar ki naitiktaa ko, vivek-nayan se zaroor jhaank naa...

Man aur vani ki akhandta, vibhakt ** ne naa denaa,
Jhoot par avalambit **, swa-nistha khone naa denaa...

Kapat aacharan ko apnakar, aarthik sukh hi paaoge,
Sabal charitra banaa lo gar, toh nityaanand tak jaaoge...

Vani par jiske satya sadaa, vachan shakti siddh hogi,
Mukh se upji har shabdaavali, vaastav mein sanghatit hogi...

Abhisandhi ka gar karo prayog, jo logo ko sambhramit kare,
Toh unki nahi, tumhaari mithya, jo aatm ko hi dooshit kare...

Jab jab kanth kare dhwani, prajwalit ** satyajyoti se har baat,
Jhoot gaun samaksh uske, satya sarvopari sarvaat...

- - - - -

English Translation - Truth is above everything

Speaking lies have become common, but don't underestimate the significance of Truth,
Do peep into your inner morality through the eyes of conscience...

Do not let the integrity of Mind & Speech be dissected,
By adhering onto fallacy, do not let your self morale be lost...

By embracing fraudulent behavior, you will only get monetary pleasure,
But if you build a brawny (strong) Character, you will go till Eternal Happiness (Salvation) ...

The one who always has Truth on his Speech, the force of oration will become effectual,
Every vocabulary out from his mouth, will constitute into Reality...

If you do use deceit, for misapprehending the people,
Then the illusion is not theirs, but yours, for it pollutes your own self...

When ever the throat makes sound, let every talk be illuminated with the light of Truth,
Lie is inferior in front of it, Truth is above every thing...

- - - - -

Original Poem - सत्य सर्वोपरि सर्वात्

झूठ बोलना आम हो गया, पर महिमा सत्य की कम ना आंकना।
भीतर की नैतिकता को, विवेक-नयन से ज़रूर झांकना।।

मन और वाणी की अखंडता, विभक्त होने ना देना।
झूठ पर अवलंबित हो, स्वनिष्ठा खोने ना देना।।

कपट आचरण को अपनाकर, आर्थिक सुख ही पाओगे।
सबल चरित्र बना लो गर, तो नित्यानंद तक जाओगे।।

वाणी पर जिसके सत्य सदा, वचन-शक्ति सिद्ध होगी।
मुख से उपजी हर शब्दावली, वास्तव में संघटित होगी।।

अभिसंधि का गर करो प्रयोग, जो लोगो को संभ्रमित करे।
तो उनकी नहीं, तुम्हारी मिथ्या, जो आत्म को ही दूषित करे।।

जब जब कंठ करे ध्वनि, प्रज्वलित हो सत्यज्योति से बात।
झूठ गौण समक्ष उसके, सत्य सर्वोपरि सर्वात्।।

© Poem by Manas Madrecha
This poem was first published on the blog 'Simplifying Universe'
(http://www.simplifyinguniverse.blogspot.com) in May, 2015.
Pyrrha Jul 2018
A poets heart is like a riddle
The answers are clear but hidden
Pellucid until they are ready to be seen

When a poet falls for you
They fall for all of you
Your insecurities become their favorite parts

Beware of a poets heart
Full of emotion to drown you in their words
They pull you in and refuse to let you go

Be careful with a poets heart
They are easy to capture, hard to contain
Even easier to break and harder to replace

Don't underestimate a poet
We are the masters of charisma
Words are our vice

Never forget to treasure a poets love
Theres nothing else like it in the world
No amount of searching will give you the feeling of a poets heartfelt
"I love you"
George Krokos Oct 2015
There's a certain condition known as losing connection
involving people, places and things of strong affection.
The phenomenon is marked by one or two parting to separate ways
and a feeling of disconnection is experienced highlighting the days.
Where the people concerned, in the past, were once close together,
are all now, due to a lack of communication, more apart than ever.

Once good friends, close relatives, associates and even lovers
have all fallen victim to the malady of estrangement as others.
We should never underestimate the effect of the passage of time
especially when augmented with distance that determines clime.
In this case the distance between the minds and hearts of all those who
have so drifted apart from each other no longer holding the same view.

It may also be a case where people have outgrown or transcended themselves
and do not identify any more with what was once regarded as familiar delves.
The vicissitudes of life can also be a major cause and often very decisive factor
where on the stage of this world one assumes or takes the role of a different actor.
Who knows to what degree a situation can change or influence the course of events
and leaves those alienated, that were once close together, now with different intents.

Another very obvious aspect is the physical departure because of death
of all those who, in this life, virtually shared the same space and breath.
It has also been written that, the soul of a person gone, sometimes tries to revive
or contact those whom it had most connection with while it was physically alive.
The same can be said of some of those who are still in their earthly ****** form
and cannot cope without the assurance or connection that before was the norm.
__________
Written in 2013
You think you’ve broken me down
that I’ll never stand again,
you think with hateful words
you’ve landed the big win.
So you think you know me…
I’m a pushover because I’m kind
don’t underestimate,
I actually have a powerful mind!
You don’t know the whole of it
and never, you truly will,
unlike you, I could never hurt another
out of hatefulness or thrill!
You are powerful with judgment
and you think you give a great show,
so go ahead, pick up that rock
give it a good hard throw!
But, remember this sweetheart
actually, it’s something you should know,
karma pays back in triple
YOU REAP WHAT YOU SOW!
I’d tread a little more lightly
if I were YOU,
all that hatefulness you put out
well, eventually darlin,
that bills gonna come due!
~
This Is Dedicated To My Troll With Love!
Merry Christmas!!

— The End —