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Adrian Newman May 2016
What I did, intervening with your life was wrong
I'm old but I pretended I was young
And you've played along, treating me like a sister and a friend
I'm horrible but that's something you refuse to comprehend.

I don't think you love me cause you still don't understand
That despite my past and failures, I am still a man
And I don't want your love any other way except unconditional
I don't yearn for pity because I'm unforgivable.

You should have left me ages and ages ago
But then I would have left you too.
There's no way you could warm my stubborn old heart
With no flame in your eyes, not even a spark.

I don't think you love me cause you still don't understand
That despite my past and failures, I am still a man
And I don't want your love any other way except unconditional
I don't yearn for pity because I'm unforgivable.

You should have kicked me out ages ago
Now I constantly feel guilty and ungrateful.
You always treat me like a sister, daughter, friend
I'm a man and that's something you refuse to comprehend.

I don't think you love me cause you still don't understand
That despite my past and failures, I am still a man
And I don't want your love any other way except unconditional
I don't yearn for pity because I'm unforgivable.

Don't give me pity because what I did was unforgivable.

12th May 2016
This is a poem I wrote yesterday when I was feeling upset. Because I inhabit the body of a girl I loved, everything that she should have has been given to me, hence feeling guilty. Nobody understands that I'm a babysitter most of the time except I'm in the body of who I look after.
Noah A Aug 2017
Why do I have to suffer...!

In this

Why do I have to be punished...!

Sent away...

To a place
Beyond reality...

This is horrible...!

What a cruel world...!

But what I did...

Was unforgivable

And yet...

What if I made it up somehow

What if I showed this world...!

I am strong!

I am not bad!

I am...
Not unforgivable...

But I am unforgivable

It's done

I have no place in this cruel world...

**** ME
**** ME NOW!

I don't want to die...

I want to go back

Back to when...

I wasn't
One of my darkest poems...
Noah A Aug 2017
My life...


I don't know...

What... to do...

What should I do...?


Help...           me



I regret...

Many things...

I regret...
Doing what... I did... Alone

To become...


But I can't go back...

I can't say... I was... wrong

I cant be wrong...!

They must... understand

If they don't...

They will see me... as...

As a monster...

For the rest...

Of my unforgivable...

I need your help!  I want to know if I should make my character suffer endlessly, or help him.  Or maybe just end the story right here? What do you guys think?  Please write what you think in the comments section!  Thanks!
Fel Sep 2014
First, I am from Cassidy
a heritage left behind in Ireland 100 years ago
when a young girl crossed the Pond
Searching for a place in the New World

I am from Sin City
where ungodly saints reign supreme
and the hot summers are barely bearable
Within its glitzy, barren landscape

I am from a Dramatic Family
where music is the main language spoken
where, if you announce you’re left “full,”
Someone will proclaim to be “Fuller!”

I am from Low-income Neighborhoods
where ****** kids have nothing to do
but play hide ‘n go seek
And have ice cube wars

I am from Music
an instrument in every room of the house
with two musicians for parents,
You can only assume on what will become of me

I am from American Traitors and Famous Scientists
Catholics and Musicians,
Military Families and Abandoned Individuals

That’s where I’m from.
An assignment I had to complete in my English class about "Where I'm From." What better place to put it, than to put it on here!
To me eternity lies in thy eyes,
and thy rejection my demise.
If so but accept and heal me likewise;
whilst shun and stab my sore heart, otherwise.
Thou hath always been to me a surprise;
Though a doubtful, but sparkling surprise,
So any dejection of thine shall be odd,
And a thousand times bitterer than a cold rapid retort;
For thou art pure; and sometimes too pure and fine
As how thy immortal soul stayest still, and growest not old
And in toughness and roughness is to remain,
So long as thy dried flesh shall age, and afford;
And with such songs so prolific as prayers
By friendly laudations like bewitching storms
Thou shall forever stay, and newer grow fader
And in such coldness thou shall offer me warmth;
Beside yon raging fire, and about thy manly arms,
Thou shalt but lull and cradle me like a baby-
until sleep comes and whispers dreams onto me,
Thou shalt be far more tender and smart-
Unlike that ungrateful preceding heart,
Which claimed to be civil, but uncivil,
United but then left my unsuspecting heart apart;
So unlike thee, who is but a smart little devil
Thou who earnestly tempted my soul, and lured my blood
Thou returned my blushes, and caught away my heart
Ah, and now-whenever I thinkest of thee,
All pain and gloom shall revert to oneness,
But how still I know not, as whose days remain but a mystery
For everything in which is at times barren and colourless;
But when alive, they are just as simple
as those brief dreams of thine and mine,
With a love but too sufficient, majestic and ample
Delicately shall they turn troubled and unseen,
But caring and healing and blinding and shaking,
taking turns like oceanic birds which go about
swimming and singing and strumming and swinging,
like a painting of prettily sure clarity-but unseen,
or perhaps a pair of loving, yet unforgettable winds.

To thee whom I once loved, and now still do,
To thee towards whom my hardened heart-again, turns soft,
To thee whom my delirium is all kept safe and true,
To thee for whom I canst feel never reproach-and only love,
And to thee-ah, to thee, thee only-by whom
the grandeur of the blue sky shalt melt;
Ah, thee! And betwixt thy gaze,
All fictitious sunsets shalt perhaps become wet-
Just like those azure spirits in thy fair eyes,
Sometimes too indignant but unquestioning,
and too pure-as to whom even the Devil hath no lies;
To thee only, to whom this enduring love is ever assigned,
And forever, even its temptation be mine, and only mine,
Like unforgivable sins, which are sadly left unatoned
In its eternity standing still like a statue;
beside its wrathed, and bloodied howling stone
And to thee merely, to whom this impaired heart shall ever return,
As it now does, with cries and blows that makest my heart churn
And canst wait not 'till the morn, for on morns only,
thou shalt creepest down the stairs, and stareth onto me,
Often with eyes full of questions;
Questions that thou art too bashful to reflect,
So that turn themselves later on, into emotions,
Which withereth and dieth days after, of doom and neglect.
Ah, but still I loveth thee!
For this regret makest me but loveth thee more and more,
and urge my soul greater, to loveth thee better-than ever before.
For 'tis thee who yet stills my cry, and silences my wrath;
The one who kills my death, and reawakens my breath.
Thou on whom my love shall be delightfully poured,
A love as amiable as the one I hold for dearest Lord,
A love for thee, for only thee in whom I'th found comfort,
A comfort that is holier than any heaven, or even His very own divine abode;
Thou art holier than the untouched swaying grass outside,
Which is green, with greenness so handy and indulgent to every sight,
Thou who art madder than madness itself,
But upon Friday eves, makest my joy even merrier,
And far livelier-than any flailing droplet of rain
Showering this earth's clustered soil out there,
Which does neither soften nor flit away my pain
But makest it even worse, as if God Himself shan't solicit, nor care
Like any other hostile love, which thou might kindly find, every where.

To thee whom I once loved, and now still do,
To thee towards whom my hardened heart-again, turns soft,
To thee whom my delirium is all kept safe and true,
To thee for whom I canst feel never reproach-and only love,
And to thee-ah, to thee, thee only-by whom
the grandeur of the blue sky shalt melt;
In my mind thou art the lost eternity itself,
And by its proud self, thou art still even grander,
For thou makest silence not any more silence,
but joy, in return, even a greater joy.
Ah, thee, thou who the painter of my day,
and the writer of my blooming night.
Thou who art the poet of my past,
and the words of my courteous present.
Thou shall ******* flirty orange blossoms,
And cherish its virtue, which strives and lives
As a most sumptuous, and palpable gift-
Until the knocking of this year's gentle autumn.
Ah! Virtue, virtue, o virtue-whose soul always be
a charm, and indeed a very generous charm-
to my harmonious, though melancholy, *****.
Ah, thee; o lost darling-my lost darling of all awesome day and night,
My lost darling before starlight, and upon the pallid moonlight,
My lost darling above the reach of my sight, and height;
Thou art still a song-to my now tuneless leaves,
and a melody to their bottomless graves,
Thou shalt be a cure to their ill harmony;
Thou art their long-betrayed melody.
And even, thou art the spring
my dying flowers needst to taste,
fpr being with thee produces no haste;
and or whom nothing is neither early, nor late;
And whenst there be no fate, thou shalt be
yon ever consuming fate itself-
And by our inane eyes, thou shalt makest it
but adorable and all the way strong,
For thou, as thou now do, nurture it better
than all the other graciousness among;
Thou art the promise it hath hitherto liked; but just
shyly-and justly refuted, for the bareness of pride,
and often inglorious resistance-all along.

To thee whom I once loved, and now still do,
To thee towards whom my hardened heart-again, turns soft,
To thee whom my delirium is all kept safe and true,
To thee for whom I canst feel never reproach-and only love,
And to thee-ah, to thee, thee only-by whom
the grandeur of the blue sky shalt melt;
Ah, thee! Even in undurable haste, thou art still like a butterfly,
fast and rapid flowing about the earth and into the sky;
Thou who art grateful not for this earth's soil;
Thou who saith 'tis only the sky that canst make thou feel.
Thou who cannot sit, thou cannot lay,
but on whose lanes thou always art secure,
as though from now thou shalt live too long
And belong to this rigorous earth
to whom our mortal souls do not belong.
And as to its vigour, death cannot be delayed,
and words of deadness shalt fast always, be said.
Ah, yet but again, I cannot simply be wrong;
for thou art immortal, immortal, and immortal;
To death thou art but too insipid and loyal;
that willing it not be, to take thy soul into its mourning,
and awkward prayers so scornful and worrying.
Thou who needst not be afraid of death;
for breath shalt never leave thee, and thou shan't breath.
Unsaid poems of thine are thus never to remaineth unspoken,
and far more and more thoughts shalt be perfectly carved, and uttered;
Unlike mine; whose several mortal thoughts shalt be silenced, and unknown
And after years passed my name shalt be forgotten, and my poems altered.
But thou! By any earth, and any of its due shape-thou shalt never be defaced,
and whose thoughts shalt never, even only once-be rephrased,
for thou art immortal, and for decades undying shalt be so;
And to life thou remaineth shalt remain chaste, and undetached;
as the divine wholeness whenst 'tis all slumped and wretched,
and white in unsoiled finery, whenst all goes to dirt and waste;
For grossness shalt escape thee, and stains couldst still, not thee fetch.
To every purity thou shalt thus be the best young match;
Ah, just like my mind shalt ever want thee to be;
but thou art missing from my sight-ah, as thou art not here!
Our paths are far whenst they are but near,
and which fact fillest me still, with dawning dread and fear
Unfortunately, as in this poem, my words not every heart shalt hear;
And to my writings doth I ever patiently retreat, the one,
and one only; whom to my conscience so dear.

To thee whom I once loved, and now still do,
To thee towards whom my hardened heart-again, turns soft,
To thee whom my delirium is all kept safe and true,
To thee for whom I canst feel never reproach-and only love,
And just to thee-ah, to thee, thee only-by whom
the grandeur of the blue sky shalt melt;
How fate but still made us here and meet,
That clue shall never makest me blind, and forget!
Now blighted I am, by dire ungladness and regret,
for having abhorred, and slighting thee too much!
For should I still cherish thee before my mortal death,
and be bitter and testy not; much less grim or harsh.
For fate is what fate is, as how love is just it looks;
and God's doings cannot be wrong; and true and faithful
as words I found crafted, and deciphered in old books.
Ah, and God's blessings are to arriveth in time,
and to taste whose due I indeed needst to be patient.
Be patient t'wards the love on which I climb,
ah, as for me-and whenst the right time cometh-
thou shalt be my sole wealth; so dear and sufficient!
And so for thee, no matter how thou hath my heart now torn,
Still I canst, and shalt reward thee not-with scorn;
for thou art my fate, my path, and my salved destiny;
For of which I am assured, definite, and convinced-
with all my degrees of humble pride, and vivid certainty-
Ah, darling, and thou art my humbleness, but also too many a time-my vanity;
For whom I shan't go and venture but anywhere-
As long as thou stayest and last-verily and for yon whole eternity, by me.
Grumpy Dwarf Apr 2014
Why can't you be horrible and full of unforgivable flaws?
Why does it gets worse and not better inside my stupid, devoted heart?
Why do you still feel the same to me?
Your skin hasn't lost that scent I knew
The scent I still know and can remember by simply closing my eyes
The scent I still desire and find familiar
Even if it really never was
Shivam S Jul 2014
There is something with that tree
it makes me feel so free
then i look up to the sky
my soul goes out to fly
and when i am gone
with the birds
i feel so lonely up here
then i feel... oh ! love of me
i have done the unforgivable
and when i am done
all alone i look down to the fields
where wrong and right meets
then i feel this is it.
This is the land of the unforgiven.
Bailey Michele Jan 2011
I call it stupid
You drank before you drove
You didn't know your consequences
Could have such a great toll

I call it reckless
You swerved across the road
His Honda stood no chance against you
How could you do this

I call it selfless
You never considered the others
The fun you wanted
Caused the death of another

I call it ******
Even though you didn't plan to take his life
He's gone now and with him
You murdered a piece of me

I call it unforgivable
The 24th of any month will never be the same to me
That was the day you took that wild ride
And took Ben with you
JayceeJellies Dec 2015
The things that I said
were meant to be so
unforgivable.. to the
point where you'd
never want to see me
or speak to me again.
I said it all for a reason.
To avoid getting hurt
by you once more.
But I miss you everyday
and I'm sorry for everything.
I'm not going to say anything
to you though. Because there
will only ever be one result: pain.
The Willow Dec 2015
Are we really the ones to determine what is unforgivable and
what is not?))
Thank you for reading my full journey of Prisms and the Other Woman.

It is the story about love vs. lust, manipulation, forgiveness, and respect.
And for that I am forever grateful.
Dondaycee Nov 2017
Next lifetime just let me be,
All lost souls that noticed me,
Over killed the hope in me,
Helpful hands unnoticed, feet,
Blistering I’m growing weak.
I have questions for the runaways,
How did your feet get so strong?
Why couldn’t I tag along?
Did you leave home to be alone or vice versa, got cold and was searching for warmer days in the week?
What is life without a friend dependent on I,
Is trust nonexistent when there’s a mention of side,
Is it not selfish to love yourself before mind,
A system that houses a light linked throughout time,
“-What do you want?”
For you to love me like you love all.
Look in the mirror, what about this person,
“I’m always here, all you have to do is call”
Where’s the assertion? I’m looking for words because the ones I’m using aren’t working.
Never felt too good in crowds, because there’s folks around, and they’re always thinking,
Never felt too good or proud, when joyful sounds touch my heart before they’re leaving,
“-Loving others isn’t a bad thing, lose the fear, it’s a state of being.
Don’t hate yourself for seeing a reality that others aren’t capable of seeing.”
But, Am I dreaming?
“Do not confuse yourself, you don’t want to lose yourself for dreams are other realities, you are currently in a state of being.”
But what is being?
“To be or not to be is the question.”
… Give me clarity
“Everything is being, it’s all existing, everything existing is living.”
Is this another lesson?
“Is death to exist and not be, or to be and not exist?
That is my suggestion-”
-How can you be and not exist?
“To exist is to have objective reality, a reality that exist independent from our minds.
Consciousness construct realities through imagination in space, which is time,
So, does the world end when we die,
Or does the experience of this reality end and our consciousness move into another reality beyond the human mind?
Would the state of being then not exist after existences?”
Let me go the distance with an analogy to make sure there’s nothing I’m missing.
Is it pain to love in a world that perceive it with ignorance, or to fully understand it and not have the experience?
“A little personal but the balance is understood.”
I just needed some clarity to be reassured,
Because sometimes I’m insecure,
There’s never been a life that’s “similar”,
And I see things in my life that will occur,
Pretty lady, baby don’t you close the door,
With other opportunities of loving me more,
Arkyi, Dondaycee, keep my knees from the ground,
In times I forget to stand, and am feeling less than a man should when his woman’s aroused,
By another… that feeling’s profound.
“-Jealousy found, that energy is not allowed when there’s confusion around.”
Where’s that soothing sound that moved me in dreams,
That had me chasing angels confusing chicken with wings,
Searching for permission in missing some things,
Like the giggle or a touch that slowly faded through change,
Like that love at first sight that never made it to name,
Those “unspoken” relationships that never made it to name,
Those misunderstood moments I forgave and delayed an encounter because I couldn’t forget the feeling she gave before  pain.
Those hideaway hearts is where my shelter remained,
Because they kept the love pure when it was easy to drain.
It isn’t easy to contain let alone obtain a power source linked to the brain and refrain from allowing an equivalent vibration; being fear, creep into the domain and create a disease of insane.
“-Insanity is just as contagious as stupidity-”
-Please explain how to maintain love’s stability when hostility is blurred into a thin line.
Inhumane is humane when the word justify emerges in a reign of ignorance which solidifies the moment the sane become repetitive credited to an infection that dried the terrain of perception,
Unreceptive the brain becomes when love is trying to sustain which leads to strain that results in pain and fear burst as a supernova leading to actions in vain again and again,
Oh lord, the power of a woman.
If men could be before doing, we wouldn’t often do things we “shouldn’t”,
“It’s not a matter of wrong or right but evolving into light.”
Is it odd that I acknowledge you, voice inside my head?
“Just as odd as the words left unsaid before night.”
This solitude thing, it isn’t enough anymore, I need something new.
I learned to love myself from red to blue,
And I just reached purple, now all I see is white,
May that energy continue to heal and rise,
Frequency, continue to create shorter and steeper hills, so that I am able to write,
Documentations of this experience  discovering love that’s unforgettable,
Because self hate should never be unforgivable.
That illness is always hospitable,
The existence of love is aboriginal,
Individually being is medicinal and additional if traditional.
Through ourselves is how we connect to all, an adventure to,
Dive within thyself but too many times I forget myself.
Every time I learn to stand, I project and fall like I forget my shell,
Because it’s easier to live life as light than with the body, odd of me to dismiss my health,
Physical problems; wanting love, a senseless touch; tempted to rush a manifestation of her beside me.
That’s the biggest lie when all I need is I and the being inside me.
If this is a human experience, neglecting the body is a serious condition, mysterious as if ID.O.M and 3D have been misspelled,
Then what is hell?
I thought death doesn’t exist?
“It doesn’t, it’s a reality when the state of being is no longer well.”
To be… or not to be…
“That is a question of wealth.”
Katie Stam Mar 2014
Go to an art museum
Pretend you understand
Nod along with what others are saying
Because otherwise you'll look bland
Though the colors on canvas means nothing to you
Everyone else seems to get it
Your legs grow sore from standing around
You decide to rest for a bit
Oh ****, that bench was actually art!
What a mistake you've made
The staff tensely continue to glare
You wonder how much they get paid
Naked women adorn the walls
And prepubescents giggle
That one creepy painting is definitely staring at you
Uncomfortably, away you wriggle
Though the art museum is a cultured place to go
By the end you're always miserable
At least next time you'll know not to buy 15 dollar coffee
And remember that flash photography is unforgivable
I guess you really can not forgive me
in this beautiful country of yours
for I hold you so dearly, under those
Canadian stars, sure we may dream
miraculous things, but weight on
these feathers and waning wings
serpentine jealousy, babe, not envy
please, leave, me, be, innocent, of
steam, send onto me Jesus Christ
Girl, i need someone to clarify biblically
did the catholic we knifed, deserve
to call me a worthless being, or will i find him
in prison like everyone finds him I'm just
happy its 20 14, when Tupac  is to be reborn
Judge his reasonings were, my Mother didn't raise me
Catholic, her mother did want her Mothers
Mother , to have not wanted to raise her
Daughter, catholic, in the snow, with a tune
for you, waiting at the St, Stephen Torro Cemetery
Holden , your best friends broken rosary/broken nose
Pope Francis, we came to opposite levels of holy,
Heaven or Hell only knows, over standing does not exist
Mathew 6 Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven.

2 “So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. 3 But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, 4 so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.
We didn't love each other, we were just giving to the needy, your eyes tell me something other
than your words do , and hey so does your tongue, when will i find that kiss again no I'm done, that same sent of sorrow , as me we shared the same face and car , for however long  you want to call it babe, ill never be yours ever if you wanted i don't know but that doesn't make any sense, to me or to anyone one else, the ones who saw the beautiful moment, between us, wether or not we were drunk, or alone, they still knew, before and after the punch line, and i know youre the only one still  laughing

oh do do do , what a fool are you, to love a fool like me like you do too, if only she knew, that i can't
love you like i do love her oh do do do what a fool are you to love the ******* fool that i have turned into, after i stopped loving you, so long ago, when you could have known, before her, how to own a car, with someone like me who's addicted to going far but in a loop
before we ever knew, the feeling of
Mr Vampire Jan 2015
It doesn't rain
but it pours
Can't fly
but it soars

It's hard to see
but it glows
Hard to believe
but it knows

It hides in shadows
but it stirs
Lost in the past
but it blurs

It's beneath the skin
but its visible
Newly uncovered
what was unforgivable
K G Aug 2015
You'd blurt out something unforgivable
You'd yell out to the monkey in the room
Say it and I'll have to go alone
Mute your unkind mind from those things you call distractions
Sending you the truth, saying things like that are pretty sad
Your dad is an automated system
Driving recklessly, laughing at my pains
Listen turn that down, listening to your faceless friends
Skin color is only a screen blinding you
Why does it matter anyway
But you won't just leave it alone
Saying stereotypical rhymes out loud
Just leave me alone
You blurted out something unforgivable
You were screaming to the monkey in the room, which you'd soon regret
Enough was said
Janelle Tanguin Feb 2017
Before everything

i. I never knew four letters could melt
menthol candy-like, hydrochloric acid on my tongue
and keep burning it in different degrees
I had to swallow back.

ii. That there would come a time
I'd have to baptize the pain in my chest like seasons
robbing me lungfuls
on January, September and December nights.

iii. That my blood was really ink I needed to stop using
before my skin turned paper-like.

iv. That my heart had an epicenter pumping a magnitude of earthquakes
that made me tremble helplessly in its intensity;
and that they were man-made calamities
followed by harsh, heavy, whipping tsunamis
to flood my grave of bleeding, jagged fault lines.

v. That aftereffects lasted longer than treatment itself,
and that I didn't need any professional diagnosis to know
I was terminal
from the same drug that made butterfly-strokes in my veins,
whose arms withheld the only elixir to this malady.

vi. I named my sickness, my pain, my agony like orphaned children, after you--
a rare disease
the doctors didn't even know about yet.

vii. I did and I doubted
but a part of me beat signals
that echoed off the cave walls of my skull
that I knew.

viii. Before everything,
I have been warned
but I chose to listen to the soothing, wrong, hopeful voices
"He means no harm,".

ix. You began spreading like an epidemic-- a tumor to a colony of cells all over me-- until I became you;
a reflection of familiar suffering and mortality, slowly withering away.
In the end, I didn't even have you to blame
for letting me overdose from intakes
of my own ****, bitter medicine and unforgivable mistakes.

x. I guess, this was how you wanted the price to be paid.
Warda Kashif Aug 2017
High in the sky
The castle stands strong
Each grain packed together with trust
That they may never separate from each other
The rooms fill with the laughter of a young lady
His hand graze each corner as he follows the familiar scent of his love
He wraps his arms around her waist and breaths in home
She nestles deeper into strong arms

Grey clouds in the sky
The castles stands strong
Sturdy walls stand on a solid promise
To never let go of one another
He paces from one room to another raging in silence
She sits on the edge of her bed with her head held low
He wants revenge for hurt

Sun in the sky
The castle stands strong
Clear windows look out into a bright future
Of a happy life together
Hand in hand they dance through their dreams of solitude
She looks deep in his eyes and sees his soul
He looks deep in her eyes and sees her heart

Stars in the sky
The castle stands strong
Gold ceilings as high as the queens expectations
No one could reach any higher
He hangs from the chandelier to her every word
She wants more than she deserves
The castle is not big enough for their love

Thunder and lightning rip through the sky
Tearing through the sturdy walls
A chilling wind cracking the once clear windows
Piece by piece each grain falls
It crumbles at their feet
Amongst their unforgivable brawls
The castle is only made of sand
It no longer stands tall
wordvango Sep 2017
tears in my eyes
and stormy clouds
thunders seek
to make me rain down on you

closing in are
the sounds
of humidity
the magnitude
of falling

now these  
once fluffy
things turned dark and

I reposed
back on red earth
my head to the west
my feet ready to run
under the nearest tree

pull her limbs to me
in plain sight
accepting my course

seeing seeking some
kind of
roaring clasp
maybe I am

or feel my sins are
ME Oct 2013
Leave me fear
Strangle my tears
Make way and get out of here
Baby, it's not easy playing the fool behind the wooden stool
And as I lay down in my bed the shadow lingers overhead
I look up, but I'm alone, Oh my baby,
Where are you ?

Staring emptily at the ceiling, driving through the madness in sin
Knew my mistakes were unforgivable, but mama, you gotta give me one more chance
It's never easy, going through the greys, blending in,
That black sorrowful heart, a remembrance of innocence
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today"
It's the only words I heard
I was breathing & alive
But looking at my own grave

Under empty sky
Staring at the light
Not noticing I was holding life hostage
But with no right, I look for a purpose
A cause for the insignificance of my life
To deliver the promise of the love I couldn’t give to you
That you deserve, my mistress, my phantom, my lady in white,
Under the moon at midnight, in between words we linger, and I bloom

I don't want to be blue, but I don't want you to leave
In limbo or incognito, whichever way, it's deceit
I have lost and loved, but never myself
I feel you, but I don't know your name
We will go together till the end
I stand by you
Mysterious lover & friend
Dark n Beautiful May 2015
The last time I saw you
You brought Toffee
Purple daisy, red lilies
Stinky Missy and daffodils’
You put them in the vase,

I panic and said “who die?

We were stunned
and asked each other: Why now?
After all these years

Love has not any pride
Ten years together
We never spoke
For goodness sake!
Can’t you see I am trying my best:
Stop you *******,
you had *** with my sister!
I hoped that my viewers understand what's going on here in this piece
sometimes in life its hard to forgive certain things... enjoy the poem.. Quote:
Wyatt Jul 2018
I see the classist
who fuels the masses.
Community, dreams
buried under taxes.
Who decides what passes
and what won't go?
You cling to morals,
yet you strike so low.
Distant pipe dreams,
we reach for the jaw
that binds us, blinds us
under authoritarian law.

******* under our noses,
but they're still raised.
Scoffed, but scuffed.
Wrought, but tough.
Why do we wallow
in the dirt
yet we still look above?
"Pick a side,
you can't wait in the middle.
Can't overlook,
you're apart of the visual."
We're panicked in the wake of this.
"You're either the talk of the show
or the mistake that makes the art ugly."
In hate the people unite,
separated as we ignite.
It's unforgivable.
Classism will be the death of us all, it's unforgivable.
Cate Oct 2015
It’s not true; not all the way, but they say “it’s all about your choices.”
It makes no sense to me. I’ve never been much for inexplicable and
       inexhaustible benevolence.
I find I spend copious time figuring my meaning, in situations I over
       analyze into mathematical I conscious,
                or just a calculator?
Or...have I been (and hopefully still am) living, breathing, feeling…?
I this stealing life?
This is evading death.

Arguably, our beginning is our end, no? Upon inception of life, have
      we not inherited death?
Yet again there fate? Do they matter? (that is, my choices.)
I was once told, “if you can dream it, you can do it”. Shall I still build
      the perfect life?
I’m beginning to be overtaken with impatience that surpasses my
      innate benevolence.
I cannot say which is weaker, my spirit, or my flesh.
Once I’ve punched in my last numerical decision, how long will my
     finger hover above ‘enter’-
how long until the outcome appears on my mortality calculator?

I often lose myself in the turmoil of emotion. Not cool and collected
        like the others. It’s been decided, no I’m no calculator.
She seems to always descend at an uncanny time. An uncouth cold-
          caller, that Mistress Death.
“I feel young”, I croon. Unanswered by my withering flesh.
I consider my carelessness, wishing I had been the master of more of
     my choices.
Sometimes, it’s one-in-the-same, self-defense and benevolence.
I’m just trying to find some connection, but still I question, “is that all
        that makes this life?”

Will I ever find definition and solid intention strong enough to be
     named the same as all the other countless, hazy perceptions we
                call life?
I find myself to be robotic in response and anxious in nature. Perhaps I
      AM an inhumane Calculator.
I consider myself a fine hostess, even admittedly, to thoughts that strip
        down my benevolence.
“Death to those demons!” is my rising cry, “death!”
Death to unfavorable and unforgivable decisions, may they be buried  
        in my future choices.
May I think logically, and not be seduced into lethargy by the sinister
        siren calls of mortal flesh.
I cannot quench my questions, they crawl in droves beneath my flesh.
What am I do to? What shall I make of my life?
How little do I truly control with personal decisions, how much will I
        suffer from others choices?
Is it more dangerous to be over zealous or indeed catastrophic to
      function merely as a calculator?
How does one prepare for the permanence of death?
Have we soured into surface common courtesy in the guise of true

I contemplate this often. What it would take to retain a group consciousness in distress…
     true benevolence.
Perhaps if we did not so often succumb to the momentary gratification  
        of pleasing our flesh
we would feel more peaceful, knowing we gave our best, to enter the
      vault of death
grateful and complete, finishing the entirety of our life
with no devious schemes for feigned success or entitlement; no
       manipulated calculations.
we’ve all heard it before, “It’s all about your choices”

But the choices of the best differ from the choices of the rest and
        it all depends on who’s willing to fight
their own flesh for a chance at life before imminent death.
       There’s no calculation for conglomerate benevolence.
Human flaw will always persist.

C.e.M. Written 0ct.5 Edited Oct 6
my first attempt at a sestina. The words were chosen by students in my poetry class at random. Unfortunately the format of a sestina is messed up by the formatting of this website, but each line is supposed to end in some combination of the following 6 words "choices, benevolence, calculator, flesh, life, death". for more information on the intricate formatting of a sestina, google it! Enjoy
Every single madness is in my soul,
and fires like t'ose of a tempestuous sea-
are but raging within me;
scratching and tearing
t'is faith of mine so badly
Behind t'ese livid; and torpid
Dull afternoon airs.
Ah, stupid reasons, please go away-
and stun thy own flimsy day
But leave every one of thy bright promise
about thee;
Oh, just here-yet eternally-
everything t'at is as superb
as t'is often-hated hysterical world.
But only th' ones with humbleness!
And before thou retreat-imbue my soul
with silky greatness once more;
As I shalt salute thy carelessness
No matter what shalt happen
But steal not my love out of me;
let him stay like t'at and sleep by me
Until our tales come and greet
Unmarred evenness
And I; dare to spread my sore heart lazily
Under yon distant umbrella
of our oblivious heavens.

I hath the volition to touch th' stars,
And perhaps dream, dream highly
all over again
Of regaining thy love,
and rolling suspiciously
about and into thy waiting arms,
under our liberated celestial blankets
of clouds and its surfaceless haze.
Which might now and then smirk at us;
But before our ignorance rigidly
retreat away; and vanish pallidly into
its own threads
of prim; but unforgivable vanity.
Ah! I shalt but forever dream again
of all yon awesomeness,
and insist on devouring th' tasteful
Ye' immortal madness of thy princedom.
I imagine thy touches-and t'ose feverish scents
of thy fingers, and lavish hands
Free of boredom, but tainted with wisdom
And being sunk deeply in thy justice
Which insofar as it hath been enabled-
been hovering deafeningly in and about me.
Ah! I shalt be th' first one, and maiden
Who maketh thy irresoluteness decisive,
and turneth thy doubtful precisions
once more submissive!
I shalt become thy torch, and lips,
and guiding star!
I shalt bear thy ******,
and be thy own earthly phantom;
Be with me shalt be thy candlelight;
which is as strong as envious daylight
and by whom I shalt remove thy fright
As far as my dreams go with th' night
And visit and fend for thee
In thy portrait
and thy invigorating dreams.
I shalt be thy surprise;
and be a companion to thy delight
As how I shalt seek
and glory in thy pleasure;
Be lost in thy pride
and feel merciful to be thy treasure
I shalt deprave thy greed of its life
and make to thy grave,
one most beloved, and conspicuous wife.
Ah, thou art too striking!
Thy stunning voice fills me with madness-
and shakes my spines from head to toe,
But kills my sorrow and burns my sadness,
cleanses up my sins and blesses me anew.
Thou befriendeth my pride;
and my atrocious passion;
thou listeneth to my heart
and rinseth tears off its horizon.

Ah! So no wonder now
My madness loses its pride-
Overriding pride, t'at at times
becomes pregnant with such arrogance
So t'at despised it is, even by divine spies
sent down to t'is earth by majestic Lord.
What a delight within me it is to see thee-
and watch another brimful
of thy laughter-ah; thou art as captivating
as a little red-cheeked boy
Who sanguinely greeted me
Down th' farms
With a flow of madly auburn hair,
and smiles as agreeable
as t'at morn's bashful sunny air.
Ah, thou, who art even more adorable
than t'is lurid poem of mine;
stained with th' red colour-as it is,
of my own madness-and a tenacious judgment
of my senses,
T'ese merry dreams of thee are but too vicious
As they make me sweet-unbearably sweet,
in th' entire course
Of yon upcoming flirtatious night;
and tease me most whenst I'm awake
with loving chills so painstakingly crafted
about my face.
O, my lover!
My equanimious, long-sought, and
Sagitarius lover!
Thy naive, but sweet-spirited soul,
is as cheerful and frank;
but troublesome and scanty still
And within one terrific; yet ubiquitous
blink of th' hungered eye
Thou shalt sweep and slay away again;
my rigid; whilst disconcerted, charms.
And so how is at heart I am dreamily-
ye' desperately dedicated to thee;
Though far I am from thee-
as how thou defiantly-from me;
And so never may we sing-or argue in unison;
To utter neither choruses; nor grouped ballads
of marriage;
Dreams are but our sole tower and maze;
And morns all over th' earth, our single haste.

And such! Such a gaze of thine
Is addictive to me like white whine
For 'tis forever my melancholy tyranny;
In my selfish world-full of picturesque indignation
And its dearest remorse
and tranquil superfluity.
Birds t'at never fly;
And lilies t'at might not die-
ah, so after all cautious,
but in every way immortal-like thee;
Snoring and aging in thy deathless foreverness;
In which there art profoundly thou and I-
And I with my repentant dead soul
Unfreed yet of its cherry-like buds
Reeking of fascinated; yet disheartened
Longings; and horrors t'at
Unrevealed love canst soullessly take
Out its mortal mouth and sunless tongue-
From which my dissatisfied spirit
ain't bound ever to jump and awake.

Ah, but after all-all t'is suffering
and disruptive madness,
My corrupted freedom all along
shalt find justice
And whole confidentiality
In thy soul;
So t'at let me feel lethargic on thy shoulder
And rest my dishevelled mind for a while.
Perhaps, thou could let me sing t'at silent song
Whilst our dear God fixes everything
t'at hath gone wrong;
and imaginations and joy
t'at have been thrown away
shalt find every single way back of theirs
Into th' secure cage of love, within our souls.
Ah, and betwixt thy indolence
Shalt I laugh again;
For th' at length victories and images
so startling,
and pictures I am thankful of;
for they were formed so adequately
by thy stupendous name.
Ah, and immortality-yes, so which
shalt always be thy name;
With such frame and glory
trapped so idly within whose frame-
Like an odd; but fruitful summer game;
Within which I shalt ever thrive,
and civilly flourish;
Just like in thy love I shalt grow and live
And to our very last breath, rejoice.
What heinous acts
happened in Paris
so recently
happen all over the World
(yes, with a capitol "W")
every single day
and no one ever seems to really give a single ****
until it's a "civilized nation;"
that is to say
a western nation.

Oh, please.

Lest we forget
NATO, the UN, and countless other nations or groups of people
commit far greater atrocities
on a perhaps much larger scale
perhaps much more regularly
and no one talks about it-
yet if they do, and they're of the West,
it's glorified as saving the civilized world
from injustice, tyranny, bloodthirst and corruption.

Why, then, is it okay
for the West to transgress against others
for our own political, economic or simply sadistic goals
and for others to transgress against one another
(and for the West to bet on their strife and rig the odds too)
but then when it's done unto the West,
they're unforgivable evil warmongering savages
whereas the West is just innocent?

What the ****?
Why do we in the Western cult of the World
get to be Judge, Jury, Executioner,
Press, Victim, and Beneficiary?

Sounds kinda ethnocentric to me..

Maybe these attacks
are to violently prove a point
that we are not so different or stratified or separated
as we may wish to think we are.

Maybe they're angry
we refuse to allow them to sort out their conflicts for themselves.

Maybe they're frustrated
with our domineering and permissive Western-world-centric
commodification, dehumanization, and globalized ****
of any resources, people, or land we wish to own
which is so graciously sacrificed by our sacred Mother Earth
for all and any to use-
so many of which so happen to occur
across petty and mortal geopolitical lines
drawn by fingers of Devils
in Gods' sands.

This type of ire and violence
should never be condoned
and I am deeply disturbed and ashamed
by our irksome and shameless
double standard propaganda.

All lives matter.

Regardless of
ideology or nationality.
Regardless of
***, sexuality, skin, dress, or hair.
Regardless of
language, culture, or material wealth.
Regardless of
geography, education, religion, or politics.

I'm certain we've already spilled
at least just as much blood in retaliation.
How many of the dead would have to be innocent for us to even care?

It's a vicious cycle we Humans are pretty "good"at.
Please know that this plea is neither intended to downplay the very real pain nor to legitimize gruesome and tragically inhumane events, but simply to empathize and show solidarity with all of Humankind;
not just our fellow 'Westerners.'

We are all equally Human.
Every ******* one of us.
No exceptions.

Our enemies are extensions of ourselves.
We must allow them to teach us.
To keep killing one another
is to perpetuate our self-inflicted purgatory
as a conscious species.

If we refuse to change,
perhaps we've earned this Hell.

Hold people accountable
for what they do to our planet
and to her life- our lives and those of everything around us:
animals (including Humans), plants, ecosystems, economies, philosophies;
no matter which side of which line they're from
or what name they go by
or what title they hold,
for the Devil's face and name must be known
beyond a shadow of a doubt
to be able to confront the Evil
and have the knowledge, courage and integrity to resist it
and in so doing transcend into Heaven.

I love you all.
Thank you for reading.
Blessings upon thy Paths.
"forgive them," they say.
"not for them, but for you."
"forgive but don't forget."
i never understood those lines.
why would i ever forgive you
for what you did to me?
for some peace of mind?
no, i don't think so.
it doesn't work like that.
not with you.
not with abuse.
forgiving your fake excuses
for all your permanent abuse
is something i can never justify.
and it will never bring me peace
no matter how hard i try.
i can't forgive you even if i wanted to.
but you don't deserve it anyway.
and i'm fine being resentful.
i have every right to be.
you strung me out
and pulled me apart thread by thread.
you bled me out and wrung me dry.
and forgiving you won't change a single thing.
it doesn't undo the damage thats been done,
and it doesn't stop future sleepless nights.
it does nothing but make it seem okay
for people like you to do what you did to me.
it does nothing but justify your actions,
actions which have no valid justification.
it does nothing but make me look weak
because i gave in and forgave someone like you
because the pain was too much for me to handle.
so i won't do that.
i refuse to be weak.
i will triumph despite the rage and pain,
and we will both die with this hatred in my veins.

- i will never forgive you.

// q.h.
June 17, 2019
Omnis Atrum Jan 2012
With our passion all spent they would have us repent our consent
with blind zealotry they refuse to relent opposing our mergence
so when curing prurience leave one percent of passion unspent.

As we share these moments and begin our physical ascent
be aware that they will not capitulate in calling for our penance
with our passion all spent they would have us repent our consent.

Remember this simple covenant in order to circumvent
the condemnation of our actions as unforgivable flagrance
so when curing prurience leave one percent of passion unspent.

In these sheets we have long forgotten the ******'s lament
because the silent weeping is drowned out by our cadence
with our passion all spent they would have us repent our consent.

By our mutual pleasure we have earned their unrelenting resent
and we are endlessly castigated for our lack of temperance
so when curing prurience leave one percent of passion unspent.

The cries of fanatics prove their opposition to be hellbent
they would prefer that we endure the torment of abstinence
with our passion all spent they would have us repent our consent
so when curing prurience leave one percent of passion unspent.
Forgive yourself, even when they won't
For they dont always understand
When words are tossed about like stones
And you don't know if you can
When lies are spread like a wild fire
When your friends are blinded by fear
Even when you’re indescribably tired
And you can even manage a tear
Forgive yourself, Even when they don't
Your old life will be back soon
Nothing is unforgivable
Oh! And be humble and righteous too!
this is my favorite of all the poetry i've written because it applies so often, and leads to a better life
Rahul Luthra Sep 2014
Let me tell you a story about a Boy
Who had a broomstick and a wand as his toy
But alas! Nothing ever goes right
The only thing the Boy remembers from his childhood is a flash of green light
He was orphaned at the age of one
Lily died protecting her son
And his mother's love was a magic he would always carry
His last name was Potter; his first name Harry...
He was the only one to survive the unforgivable curse
No one knew how the spell had fired in reverse
For baby Harry had survived this curse in his cot
The monster who had tried to **** him was Lord Voldemort
The only thing left behind by this curse was what made him special - his scar
But his non magic relatives who took him in lied that it was the result of the crash of a car
Muggles was the name given to these non magic folks
Magic would stare them in the eye and they would still call it a hoax
It was not till his 11th birthday that Harry discovered the truth
When the giant Hagrid broke down the door; a sight that would give nightmares to any youth
While they were all trying to make sense of this human-giant hybrid
'You're a wizard, Harry' revealed Hagrid
Now it all made sense to Harry; the strangeness, the magic
And no his parents did not die in a car; it was way more tragic
So now Harry finally began his seven years at Hogwarts
And it was ensured that the strangeness would multiply now onwards
Harry was surprised to find out that the whole wizarding world knew about him
They were surprised to find out that Harry was not spoiled, but good - natured and slim
So on 1st September Harry Potter boarded the Hogwarts Express
Those who saw him gave him a look of impress
On this train he made his first friends and foe
But that was Harry's new life - with them he would grow
Potions, Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts to name a few
Those were their subjects and to Harry they were completely new
Thee year passed by without him knowing
And before he knew it, it was already snowing
He became the youngest seeker in a 100 years
It was not until the end of the year that he faced his worst fears
The monster that had tried to **** him had returned
But Harry cheated death again though he almost burned
In the seven years he had many an adventure
The Forbidden Forest was a place he promised himself he would never again venture
He reunited with his Godfather who had been wrongly framed
Harry was the only one to pass out because of the dementors which made him extremely ashamed
The potions master he hated had a history very long
It was only after Snape died Harry realised about him he had been so wrong
Dumbledore's Army finally overthrew Umbridge's reign
The only potion that controlled Lupin was Wolfsbane
This poem has the story in a very haphazard plot
Harry found out how to end Lord Voldemort
For this all the Horcruxes had to be destroyed
This was possible due to Dobby - your argument is void
In these seven years Harry understood friendship and love
Oh and his patronus was a stag; not a rabbit or a dove
To succeed in life you needn't go a great length
Just turn your weakness into your strength
The scar wasn't a curse; it was his gift
This story is about The Boy Who Lived...
I Can Smile, But Not be happy
I Can Cry but because i am angry
being lonley,like im drowning slowly
hard to breathe as my heart rushes to catch up to my thoughts
i feel the cold rush down my neck
 i can feel you creeping
all your eyes watching as i drag my feet and trip along the road i used to skip down.
the only place ive been hurt like this in this town.
the sneakers that squeak as mine are silent.
the clothes that still smell like the stores, mine the same as they were.
the same everything. i wake, i struggle, i push, i shed but one tear
and tear apart everyone else to protect myself from everyone.
i wish of the things i wish i had. of what i wish i was. of what i wish i wasnt
and whisper into the trees and grass how much i miss you and everyone else i have lost.
screaming at people who i never should have, loving people i know will hurt me.... unless i hurt them first,
so many first kisses and first girlfriends i have ruined...
so many inults that i said out of a place in my heart that is cold as ice and hard as stone. afraid everyone knows the lies ive told. to create this persona that makes me less of a lame, shame, untame dissapointment of everyone who is related to me....
Let me start over.
let me be the one who never lies.
let me be the one who didnt have to say that they hate someone.
let me love everyone including myself.
Look at me without shame Mom.
look apon me without disgust father.
for i am your baby girl. i am the baby you nurtured into the monster you call a daughter......
no mas no mas mother.....
i am not what you have raised
i am a near blemish in your imperfect yet perfect life.
as we stare each other down from across the table i see the dissapointment in your eyes...
the instructers see the lie they call potential...
i am  just a shadow in  the glory of the boy.... just a twinkle in the firework of YOUR life.
and as i begin to fall to my knees with pain and anger
i think of the people i hurt and wish they could watch me slowly fall into a deep pit of darkness and hate,...
i will sleep to the sounds of their giggles 
since i danced to the sound of their crys.
Ill continue to disappoint those around me.
im sorry for the pain and stress mom. 
Im sorry for the tears and fear mom.
this is me.
oh so terrible
Riley Ayres Jan 2014
She is evil,
her manipulative ways have warped my mind,
she is evil,
she has caused me to commit an unforgivable regicide,
she is evil,
her heart is stone, and it calls me to be executed,
She is evil,
her lies have made me lost, my sanity to be disputed.

I am evil,
this story has twisted me into a monster,
i am evil,
my body taken over by a ruthless imposter,
I am evil,
corrupted by my blood thirsty hands,
I am evil,
in my wildest dreams - these werent my best laid plans.

He is evil,
my best friend, who fears i have played foully,
he is evil,
isn’t what i’m doing sick and cowardly?
he is evil,
the father who brought out my fatal flaw,
he is evil,
silence! he speaks no more!
hfallahpour Mar 2016
In the law of my heart
breach of promise
is an unforgivable sin
Wrogue K Nov 2018
Somewhere between
Upset and Sadness,
I lost my mind.

Somewhere between
Darkness and Madness,
I crossed a line.


Lucy Tonic Nov 2012
Infancy, not remembered
Newborns with original sin
Mother is a vessel
Baptism should come later in
Waves of temptation
Bring the proud to decay
The divine is given to evil men
Who value Greek gods and prey
Upon life
Racing against the depths
Of unforgivable time
We push death out
Of our minds
With true love

The stormy ******* of human life-
Wonderful and forgettable
Justin G Feb 2016
Most people live for love
But some of us live because of it

*Such unforgivable forgetfulness
Lost within potential photos
Preoccupied and overly abrasive
Harmless yet persuasively implicit
These eyes are speechless
But explicitly dying to speak
A picture so perfect for lust
A thousand words
Just isn't enough
Deeply indebted
With every glance
  Too perplexed by color  
  How none of it belongs  
  Another illustrated nightmare   
Where sleep is prolonged
Where the sick plans
To escape with the thought
Trapped inside the mind
So adolescent
Oh picture the heartache
Rejoicing over a carcass
Still standing
And rapturing moments
We all long to feel
This winter shiver
So sicken from cold feet
An undying hunger
For butterfly soup
What worthy time to be alive
Clearly sold on the vision
Never too hasty to cover
This lover isn't blind  
But envisioned
May we all fall victim
To the photos
We aren't viable to find
AJ Cox Apr 2012
How can I fall out of favor
With your
Soulful need
For me
And my own selfish need for you
I mean
Tomorrow night
I may be with something more productive
(Like my thoughts and dreams)
But there is a destructive
Force inside of these
Pressuring  this unforgivable union
Of sorts
I mean
Monogamy is *******
Right up there with altruism
But then there is you and I.
Is it just the two of us,
That can defy the laws of
Rational reason, logic aside?
yes, I feel as though it must…be
so here is my ode
to a bottle of ’03 Bordeaux.
Raven May 2019
I lie, I deceive, I guilt trip, I am unfaithful.
I use, I manipulate, I cover up, I am unforgivable.
I have no shame in what I do.
It's like playing a game of chess, strategically formulated for the ones who cannot see through.
I love one, but it's never enough.
I need more.
I am hungry for the chase, the game, the adventure, the thrill.
I confess in guilt.
Guilt, my main negative feeling.
Hesitation, I dance with the devil in sin.
Sent to hell for lust and lies.
But hell has a special place for me, the throne.
I have sinned enough to deserve such a title.
So secretive, nobody knows.
My motives are locked, my intentions don't need to be told.
Feeling so numb, so detached, my feelings for you are so gone, I question why I wanna still see you again.
Then I remember, we are best friends.
The trap of getting bored so easily all the **** time, just wanting the next best thing, again, and again.
It's a cycle.
I don't deserve true love.
For I am a sinner, who has confessed my guilt of hidden shame.
Venus in Aries
The Warrior Seductress
Venus: Planet of love and harmony
Aries: Impulsive, quick, bored easily, likes the chase, seeks the thrill, adventurous, aggressive, bold, risk-taker, ***** *****.

— The End —