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I used to love the way
You would stand on the tips
Of your toes to kiss me
I remember the days when
I would leave and you were upset
Because you would miss me
I recall the night of our first kiss
Something I’d been dreaming of
A chance I wouldn’t miss
And I remember thinking
That for me to have found you
Was the fulfillment of my wish
But then in time you changed,
You forgot all about me
I hadn’t done a thing though babe,
I wish that you could see
I wanted nothing more
Then to see you smile
To stay by your side all the while
Time just changed you though,
Made you a different person
A couple should grow closer babe,
But your feelings for me worsened
I just wish that I could understand
The reasons that you did it
You slept with him,
You lied to me,
And all this time you hid it
You cheated babe and hurt me bad
Left me beat, but I’m not broken
I just wish the words you said to him
Were words that you had spoken
To me that is, because I loved you
But you just never cared
I would have been there through anything
But what you’ve done is
Unforgiveable to me
There’s so many reasons I should hate you
But it’s just not in my heart
I cared for you so dearly once
And believed we’d never part
I shouldn’t want to speak to you
But that’s just not my way
I can’t just cut you from my life
What else is there to say
You held a lot of meaning to me
Represented all things true
I thought you were my gift
To make up for the bad in the past
I believed you were the best thing
That’s happened to me but
Now those feelings have passed
The fact that you could do those things
Doesn’t sit with me to well
I hate myself above all else
For just how hard I fell
I thought you were the one for me
And our relationship would mature
There was a time when I believed
That you were the perfect woman
Both beautiful and pure
If only I had known the way
That you would change before
I don’t regret meeting you
But I would of stayed just friends
And never wanted more
The time we shared was fun and all
But sadly it was time wasted
I’m so upset you did this babe,
Just can’t understand why your
Feelings for me so quickly faded
I guess I’ll never understand
And I should let it go
But leaving you is just something,
I wasn’t ready for
I tried to change and be perfect
But that wasn’t enough
I’m trying hard to stay strong babe
But **** you make it tough
The things they say are all so true
Life and love can all be rough
But how you let all of this end
Just really wasn’t fair
Anytime you needed me you knew
I was always there
I’ve always been far too nice,
You know it’s been my curse
And you knew that from the start
I thought you wouldn’t take advantage of it
But then you filled the part
I spent my time and money babe,
I worked weeks just for you
So you could see the world with me
What else was there to do
I thought that I could keep you
But I was all so wrong
You never cared a bit for me
And loved others all along
To top it off you slept with him
When he’s already hurt you
I would of never done a thing like that
And you know that it’s so true
You made the choice and did it though
Didn’t even seem to regret it
Why you chose him over me
I’ll never get one bit
I’ll analyze this for so long
But I’ll still never understand
Why you lusted for all them
But pushed away my hand
I guess all of this had to happen
Eventually you were bound to get caught
But the way that this is ending now
Is one hundred percent your fault
I’m trying hard to remain calm
And I want to stay your friend
But the things that you have done to me
You don’t even try to amend
I don’t know if I can talk to you
Once I finally leave
It’s hard for me to see you now,
I still just can’t believe
You lied so much, and used me more
You were just so deceiving
But if that’s the person that you
Truly are, then I’m happy to be leaving
The kinder I got, the worse you were
I knew I could do better
I guess I had just made myself believe
That we were meant together
I was wrong once again,
I’m sure you’re happy to hear that
But after what you did to me
Just know I’m never coming back
I caught you late, wish it had been sooner
But there’s nothing I can do
I’m just happy now that I have seen
The person who’s really you
I wish you well and hope you change
And that’s all for your sake
Losing me in time you’ll realize
Was the worst mistake you’ll make
Brooksimus Aug 2011
Like a treacherous jungle, the world shaped its self to resemble the untamable, unforgiveable, and unimaginable creature that pounced on every crest of supple, innocent victim’s souls only to be dragged miles through painful, elongated trenches, and then expended in its entirety to recommence restructure in all new patterns of mutilated destructed forms; completely rearranged and in search for the light to guide culpable souls into worthy positions with better conditions and purer intentions.

From the inception, slithering wildly the legendarily discreet elapid serpent anticipated the fierce panthera. What was thought as a tyro odyssey, was underrated, uncreated, and translated to total transformative, love abated, accommodative, grief impregnated, planes alternated, affirmative gamboling games.

As a barbarous being, all and every cutthroat, bloated, anecdote of overdrawn, theatric fervor entered this imprudent, illuminated, and aggregated thing to fill unanswerable questions and unexplainable connections by intersecting other frantic, energetic, idiosyncratic reoccurring addicts with realms of disintegrated, hardheaded, nerve racked dreams.

The exterior scaled, degenerated able soul entangled and sacrificed minded controlled logic against the mystic, enigmatic, acidic beast. Pushing forward in the battle of cosmic evolution, a mistake making, empathic fool, inflicted from predicated illusions of heart wrenching, exploding, brooding agape for aspired end resulted, expanded frontiers.

What the scrawny, deluded fool missed were the all purposeful and most numerable senses that embrace every now where infinity spirals out related creation in the ever expandable universe that all the scavengers, hoarders, trackers, hunters, carnivores, herbivores, and the water possessed serpent misuse every now and now and now and now and again to address the real issues that are eschewed, abused, and viewed as insignificant tools that could never resolve unbearable fights within things, beings, or feelings of desertedness.

Miscommunication is everywhere and nowhere. Uncontrollable senses are everything and nothing. A constant fight within and without means nothing. Nerves we suppress and addictions we abuse. All to fill a space that exists at uncontrollable rates and lighting speeds. What is strategic logic without perceived cognizance? This is constant tumultuous idleness, sacrificed thoughtlessness, crude awareness, and unmanageable apprehension only exploited to rationalize a beast with labels, feeble doubts, to dwindle realities, and to fuel the unpeaceful balance.

The brute, that the restless, powerless, and distrustless serpent inhabited welcomes the transformative living immortal beings into the now of the hare who weakens the logic to lessened and opened tempos of the lines, spaces, and levels of the all and great smash of vast, immense potentiality of authenticity.
Autumn Dec 2012
people say trust isn't something simply givin, that it's something earned just like with respect right?
then why would we simplly hand out trust and respect to thoose above us?
to the goverment? we put our entire life in their hands. our entire future. We put our entire country in the hands or a stranger and trust them to not mess it up. Why would we simply trust that that police officer isn't lying about what truly happend? And why do we simply hand out respect to our elders? is it because it is the right thing to do? but who made up what was wrong and right? who or what has that power? no one and nothing. Therefore everyone's right and wrong are totally different. we don't know what our elder's do when we arn't looking, do we? So why is it expected of us to hand out respect? Sure it's polite, but yet, who made up what is and/or isn't polite?



Many people will answer this with god. Simply give god the power thaat he made us all. If i were god, i do believe he would regret his actions of creating human's, why create something so disgusting? So he has things to ackknowledge the beuty of earth? While we are ruining it? I do believe if there is a god he would have commited suicide. There is no reason to be proud of us human's in my eyes. We do terribe unforgiveable things, things that ruin, tear apart, demolish other's life. IN just one day it all could come crumbling down. It all did. It has multiple times before. And it will inevitably happen again.
z Mar 2016
when we moved into the new home
after the divorce, things were
still rocky, we had just
“left” them in the dark
still don’t address them, not a phone call,
not even
now, not after even a *******
deathinthefamily
they are like the side of a house
that never gets light
the side of the house against a cliff
and we live in the sunny sea side
windows open
they are threadbare ghosts
like an old wedding gown
used only once
moths also eat holes in my grandmother’s brain and she forgets things
but perhaps maybe she will start to remember
the reasons she loved my mother instead of hated her.
they live in apartments above beauty salons
and in oaky gentrified railroad towns
but I am a **** but I think
it’s justified that we cut
them off like a sore, well
it’s obvious. Because they
didn’t treat my mother
well at all
And that is
unforgivable.
Tatiana Dec 2021
I really don't know what to say right now
he's rotting from the inside out
and I do not care if he lives or dies
because either way he won't harm anymore lives
can't really do much with no fingers or feet
which turned black like his touch
a rash became too much
and only the ****** in his veins
kept him standing-up
but it'll affect his children
the ones he does not have custody of
but I think a part of me always hoped
that one day
he'd admit to everything he had done
and he'd apologize for it all
that he'd change his ways
do some good
I'd let it all go if he tried to do better
because nothing is unforgiveable
and people can change -- I've seen it
but he never did
he never did
and now he's rotting from the inside out
heart infected
brain damaged
blackened fingers and toes
and I feel bad that I do not feel bad
I feel bad for the times I thought
that the only way he'd ever stop
was if he died.
Now it seems he's dying.
And he's rotting from the inside out.

Perhaps that is punishment enough.
©Tatiana
I've made mistakes myself. Times where I've hurt my family because I thought I was doing something right but it turned out I was way off the mark. And that guilt still haunts me sometimes, never mind the fact that I apologized and changed my ways. I've even been forgiven and I'm so different now compared to when I was 16/17 yrs old. So I can't understand how he continued to keep doing bad things over and over again. Everyone in my family gave him chances to get back on his feet and he threw them all away. He kept hurting people and not once did he ever admit to it or apologize for any of it. And I just don't get it. Why couldn't he have done better?
I learn that I ****** up and then I do better. He never learned from his mistakes/bad choices.
Ken Pepiton Dec 2022
We all saw you on TV. See
we all felt you, on TV.
We effectually react/ or change the channel.

Seeing with, you and I, we seeing
we share science, we know bits
of many common childhood mystery
religion moralizing stories, animating
representative good and evil having beings,

eaters of roots and seeds;
eaters of blood, raw flesh;
eaters of the processed meat, made
from what clams eat, while making pearls
worth the merchant's speculation, see,
look, if this pearl were thine to own, yours
alone. If this pearl were thine, to form
using layering lightflex laminate fluid to form,
smooth curve force to mollify vitious spikes
as one creature soothes the pain caused,
when a certain signal calls for pearling,
biometric symbiotic gnosisnot using
a natural pattern found in viscous,
snottish fluids flowing just above
the bottom line reality, priced per
one man estimated ethos, may
haps, taken and called granted, per
happenstance, standing, there take it,
weigh the worth, at least, it cost you
this much attention, and left
an edge to look over…
take this thought,
taste test, notice salt, hmmm.
-- such taste, sweet
-- such taste sharp, and bitter…
Notice sticky hook to any attention paid
-- remember, re
member reading for all the roles…
This Is Your Life,
unforgiveable forethought odd after effect.
-- taste and see, we all are good, our lies are evil.

Novels in genres, are stories in familiar
feeling places. The realmmmm re-creational
master of monstors degrees, stages, steps,
tic to last held thought, ties to all held thoughts,
- who buys horror and shame hero stories?
- who buys cops are Platonic Guardians stories?
- who buys we, that people, are stories?
Vicarious as the pope,
we feel the ef
in efforting to display the glory of knowing.

- ceasing to effect the art's official form of love,
- sincere affection, effectively applied plasterwise.

Nothing new, sort of classless, drivel, driving assumptives
sorted on commonalities, professional confession,
yes, we guessed you exist, so we said
I do this for money, or
no,
I do this to make pearls, when something in me
is grinding at my gut, make, make, make me,
a pearl none shall ever see,
make me, think.

On earth, as in my own peace of mind, let it be.
Awen. Amen, and all the other translations of make it so.
The narrow focus keeps the hearth alight. Thank you for being my dear reader.
123cat Feb 2015
Touch, hold embrace my mind. Feel my spine and let us intertwine, into one bright sun of ultimate paradises. No, no one anyone; somebody? Please someone. I have been casted upon with a unbreakable thread of this lovely marked temple.
I am not lovely of them all, no pity here. Loveless is grateful and better then an unforgiveable, whirlwind of feelings, hatred and frozen heart. I am Loveless.
Laura Jun 2013
I started one step down from the top,
I had weights holding down
the bottom so I wouldn't fall.
But suddenly a violent gust
knocked
me down a rung.
However most of my supports survived the whip.
I climbed back up.

But, alas, the storm was just beginning it's brew
for the gusts returned, angry, and along with came
chilled bones and slick skin. I could not
maintain my place, I was
knocked down three times as far.
With no time to recover I was shocked once more,
I clung to the sides as the wind gained strength, but
it was too much.
The wind howled, the thunder snarled and echoed,
a stampede was rolling through.
My foundation had been wiped away,
rendered useless.
A crack roared from the heavens, and just
as I looked up in reaction, a giant flash of yellow
fried my ladder and sent
my body flying,
screaming.
Unwilled, unforeseen, unforgiveable.

I am on my back
and my ladder is gone.
Holly Freeman Oct 2011
Have you noticed,
That when we gaze at each other,
We stare a second longer?
I have.

Have you noticed,
Your eyes get a little brighter,
When i'm looking into them?
I have.

Have you noticed,
We ****** back,
When our hands grazed the other day?
I have.

Have you noticed,
That big smile that stretches across your face,
Gleaming, when i see you?
I have.

Have you noticed,
That i'm there for you,
When she doesn't have a care in the world?
I have.

Have you noticed,
That you comforted me,
When he said unforgiveable things?
I have.

Have you noticed,
When we hugged we held on a little longer,
Through the pain and hurt?
I have.

I have noticed,
The signs that could be leading up to,
Us falling for each other,
Have you?
Zan Apr 2020
The things you have said,
I can't just forget.
The things you have said,
aren't forgivable.

You thought you were fine,
somethings you don't just get.
You thought you were fine,
but you weren't able.

Those words really hurt,
badly mentaly.
Those words really hurt,
piercing through my soul.

You aren't forgivine,
I accept gratefuly.
You aren't forgivine,
but what was your goal.

You had problems,
you couldn't control.
You had problems,
but its sill hurting.

You've gotten better,
still I have a hole.
You've gotten better,
but I'm still alert.
To someone who started it all. . . . my amazing, digusting, and endless mountain of mental health.
james nordlund Oct 2020
Before corona, nursing homes residents were being killed,
naked elderly lying in hallways unattended to for hours,
staff watching as resident says they will get out of bed,
can't and does anyway only to fall straight to the floor,
medications being placed on the floor before being put into
resident pill caddy dispensers, medications being put into
resident drinks then those drinks given to other patients,
food trays delivered on he laps of residents, so staff can do
two things at once, for other residents, food trays dispensed
from a few inches off the ground food tray carriers so
pestilence must get into food, staff continually not doing
their jobs or abusing, lying about residents in any way they
can think of, medical staff purposely lying to and not
treating residents, on and on, residents not being allowed to
see outside doctors in order to actually get treated, staff
physically abusing residents during medical treatments as
retaliation for complaining, medical treatments and drugs
ordered by doctors not administered.  For the N.H. makes
most it's $ on intake and when the resident leaves, so staff's
job, to **** them as quickly as possible to increase turnover.

So covid's also a cover-up of that.  Like before pandemic,
Nursing Home residents, and now staff, are genocided,
42 % of all virus fatalities occur there.  This is also a
Hitlerian eugenics program.  Also healthcare facilities, meat,
poultry packing plants, prisons, densely packed businesses,
are concentration camps, workers are forced to work, catch
covid, give it to others, die, our schools are the same now,
genocide of kids and staff, all for ****'s re-election effort.
For, still, the purposeful non-use of the DPA by **** of
Utin, not nationalizing the manufacture, distribution of PPEs,
good testing, which would save taxpayers 100's of billions of
dollars overspent now on gouged prices, 100's of thousands
of their lives, continues, as he preaches his 'covid schmovid'
policies at his super-spreader of disease rallies, murdering
repubs.  Yet, again, ****'s Admin. is trying to steal food
from the mouths of babes and give it to billionaires, cutting
food-stamps, S.S., giving handouts to wealthy.  Now, Utin's
****, head of the republican bi-polar global conspiracy of
unpowers that unbe, is paying Utin, head of the totalitarian
conspiracy and the global oligarchy, with Russia's inclusion

in the G7, etc., for Utin's paying bounties to Taliban to ****
our military.  Grandpa, dad, brother, son, all military except
me, a military family, can't believe ****'s such a traitor,
instead of a Commander-In-Chief.  Every minute another
citizen perishes from pandemic needlessly, why? Why in this
land of American dreaming, where we put men on the moon,
have Space Forces, are we not able to mass-manufacture,
distribute masks and to accurate testing to limit the spread
of virus?  How can our businessmen, politicians not solve
this now?  "...We(e),...", can't beg, must we in 2020?  Also,
the 'Bob Woodward interviews' with **** prove he knew
about how serious covid-19 would be in 2-20, and said the
opposite to staff, country. He calls our military "suckers",
"losers", he called John McCain "not a hero".  Recent reports
by our intelligence community, FBI, reveal that Heir Mueller
should've declared that the **** international crime family
"had colluded in the Russian conspiracy to steal the election
of 2016 for him", that, "Heir Mueller failed to follow the $
trail of ****'s, which would have proven him and his crime
family did many more crimes than were investigated", that

"Russia's doing the same, and will worse, now, during the
rest of the election cycle and the **** Admin. is not just
doing nothing to stop Russia, they're actually aiding the
hacking of this election".  His niece, Mary Trump has stated
that, "all of what the public knows about him and his
failings is accurate, and he's even much worse".  He's been
keeping security, other Gov't staff at his hotels for months
straight, even when he's not there at the cost of 100's of
millions of your tax dollars.  More victims of his **** and
****** assault history are coming forward to report those
crimes against them.  He invited the Taliban to have a Gov't
Summit at Camp David right before the 18 th anniversary of
the attacks on 9-11-01, that were purposely not prevented by
king george and his ****, cheney, like **** purposely didn't
prevent the corona virus from becoming a pandemic here, it
was canceled by his staff at the last minute.  He just said,
upon hearing we've over 200,000 dead from covid, and over
6 million cases, that, "we should test less, then we'd have
less cases, we're doing fine, the end of corona's just around
the corner.", while he effectively does little to less.

Now, the deaths top 230,000 and over 7 million cases, we've
4 % of the world's population, yet, 25 % of virus cases, why?
**** just told the country a week ago, he "may not accept
the outcome of our elections in a month, 'cause mail in ballots
are a scam, if he losses, election was rigged by democrats".
His admin. are already talking to States where republicans
control the State Legislature and can choose to dispense with
the popular vote by replacing it with a set of electors they've
chosen in advance, and will say "they represent the will of
the people, instead of the elections results".  He also has
threatened that "there will be violence in the streets if he
doesn't win", etc..  The candidates for President just had their
first debate, a one ring circus, made so by the carnival barker,
****.  He refused to follow rules, continually interrupted
Biden, pathologically lied as usual.  'Time is longer than twine',
and 'to err is human, to forgive, divine'.  It's unforgiveable,
n'er forgettable.  Joe's not only persisting in reminding our
nation who "..we(e),.." are and can be, also that we're citizens
of a great Union. Inspiring, Biden's campaign rises, uplifts.
We all can, must stop this madness now, vote early, GOTV.
Thanx for reading my twig of poetree, commenting and all you All do.  Have a cool 'noon   :)   reality
Gosiame Legoale Dec 2016
I don’t think you ever really see me do you?
I exist much like the air inhaled, I'm well within your orbit but you don’t really see me do you?
I seem to exist solely for your benefit, to replenish your cells and get your blood circulating
And while I give you life, my status within your realms is akin to a manner of precipitation…
I noticed the clouds gather, I offered shelter because you matter
The curse I’m blessed with, one of secondary placement for the greater good and benefit of others
To empathise with the seemingly unforgiveable at the cost of my own bothers
Pathetic I know, but it was assumed the minor sacrifices would be worth it because you were
Pathetic because even as you termed me such I still loitered, I stayed near…
Pathetic because even as you eroded any notions of self-worth, mines was a heart plagued by fear
Could I ever, would I ever be good enough
Why was mines a pursuit so rough
Surely there is everything wrong with I, it has to be I mean why else?
Is it that perhaps he gives better *****; he erodes your ***** like no one else
That why I can never measure up? That why our time is up?
Perhaps it’s within his touch, he leave the kind of bruises I’m not capable of
He tell you where to ******* like I’m not capable of?
Could I get better, can I be better and yet selfishly you still manage to reign me back in
Not enough that you leave detonated my most vulnerable bits, that you have me conflicted as sin
But I have to try for cordial now when I should rightly will you off a buildings edge
Within I, you left dormant, yet strokes of a mountainous rage
I bid you please; I beg you kindly, dare it not to erupt
I want it not to erupt because all that is good with me, all that I feel I am, I don’t want it to corrupt
We said goodbye and let it be that, I might care that you breathe but it bothers me not how much
We’ve been allocated dedicated lanes, rather we stick to such
If you ever cared at all then afford me sanity and let me be
I cannot risk you ruining me
I’m bitter, angry and disappointed. Not so much with you but with me.
I let you be you at the cost of me
I saw the true reflection when I was the one battling remorse.
The crimes were yours, the burden mine
I gave myself to you. I now wish I hadn’t but I gave myself to you.
I still have your taste in my mouth, still aroused at the slightest thought of your touch…
I pray it goes but it stays with me and that makes me want to hate you more
It reminds me again just how pathetic I can be.
We said goodbye and let it be so, when you explicitly said that we can never be so,
We’ve said goodbye and let it be so.
I was just a cluster of emoticons. I still am. Hurt does that & it battles my better judgement. Learning to walk away this is more a rally cry to myself. It's me getting out what perhaps lay volatile inside and I gelot it out the only way I know how. The heart can be treacherous so its a reminder to self.
I looked in her eyes as if to say, “It didn’t have to end this way”
And in the focal of those dark centers in the bright pretty eyes
And I begged her once again, for nothing between us was unforgiveable
But her love had already gone, stolen by someone else, non-retractable
And they tell me she had long gone, yet this entire long I thought it my mistake
And I begged her once again, telling her I could not stay without that smile
The dimples in cheeks, that bright look in her eyes, her long legs,
I could not live without her, so I begged her once again
Telling her, all my background, and the love had missed all childhood
She could not do this to me, I deserved a second chance, and she too knew it
But her heart had long gone, I was here and she was there.
With her version of the love of her life, I explained myself
Telling her if it were in misbehavior, I would change
I knelt, I begged, I wrote poems, talked to her friends, prayed hard
But none would change, none would deter, for her love for me had long vanished
I could still remember the warm stare in her pretty eyes
I would still see her charming gait when she moved
I could not help it, even after some years, I begged her once again
I was ready to forget she left me, that he took him in his arms and kissed her
But this too was a long shot, it all amounted to vanity, she had left
So it did not matter, If I begged her once again
©Ssekajja K Ronald 2014
allison Jul 2014
It’s unwavering and waits until everyone has
forgotten the sting of the last fallen warrior
to rear its hideous head and take another.
Its speed is unimaginable, unpredictable,
and unforgiveable. It brings both relief
and sorrow so encasing that the depths of
the Pacific could both marvel at and fear
the capacity to which this monster can bring
someone down. It leaves us gasping
for breath and wiping our salty-rimmed eyes
as we try to imagine a more cheerful face
and try to wrap our heads around the fact
that our last family dinner really will be that:
our last. It takes time for us to forgive this
natural force that breaks apart families
to only bring them closer to unite in
the passing and the rejoicing of a well-lived life.
It will come, yet only once the initial stab
of shock and sadness fades, slower
for the ones most closely knitted.

I am extremely saddened at the unforeseeable fall
of your fatherly image and warming smile.
I recall the swims in your backyard pool as we
laughed and played marco polo as you watched on
with your wife, embracing in the happiness and warmth
that summer brought us cousins. We may not have been
related by the blood that ran through our veins,
but we were related by love, matrimony, and
a warming kindness that radiated from you.
I thank you for allowing me to know you,
the Christmas gifts despite the distance between us,
the grey of your hair that signified years of life experience,
the wrinkled fingers that signified your wisdom.
I will look upon the family you have left behind
as you move on to whatever waits for you past mortality
and make sure they remember your laugh and the time
you feel asleep and snored through the Thanksgiving
football game you were talking about earlier that morning
and the kindness you gave them and the happiness you
continually brought to all of them.
I mourn your death and celebrate your life because
although we wish you could have stayed here
with us for a longer time, you were here
enough to truly live.
We will continue to hold onto happy memories
and reminisce to hold you close to our hearts.

Rest in peace, to you, and look down upon your loved ones as we remember you.

*March 1, 2014 1:08:46 PM
Auntie Hosebag Jan 2017
Why did I do that?

Ego.  Lust.  Mystery.  Opportunity.
The lure of something new and untapped;
a scent unregistered, voice un-memorized;
inside jokes yet to be born.

Such a heady dervish dancing,
spinning, surrounding all that tiny life
I perceived as quite the opposite;
set in motion not so much by

the haunted eyes of the widow lady—
weaving once again well-worn epics
of her-story for an adoring audience,
luridly exploiting tragedy
for various personal gains—

but maybe by the way she stroked
that beer bottle while she spoke?

Without doubt, there were
other factors, but you were
never one of them.

I plead stupid.
Vain.
Shallow.
Self-absorbed.
Short-sighted.
Ridiculous.
­Unforgiveable.
Twenty-one.

For many years
I claimed, “If I make my mistakes
big enough I just might learn something”.

When I learned
there are no mistakes, recognized
my arrogance, gave up
to the universe, threw up
my hands and succumbed to the ride,
embracing my own sky...
all those times I’d thought of you
turned into stars raining
like tears of brilliant joy onto a black canvas,
formed overlapping constellations, and shone
like a *******.

Stars to wish on, stars
to navigate by, stars
to name on a starry night,
stars to twist into animal shapes
like a clown with long balloons—
and all those stars,
and there are more
than I can count—
settled forever in my heart
and cannot be dislodged.

Here I Iay on my virtual back,
atop my personal Alaska
dream mountain, on a summer
night deep as sin;
imagining you
laying beside me,
pointing out the brightest ones,
recounting the stories I’ve forgotten;
all those connections to you
twinkling overhead—
and I savor the
blessing of your
big bang smile
Mr X May 2014
Why did I run from the people I love?
Why did I expect them to understand the unspoken words?
Why didn't I cry when I knew they'd soothe me?
Why didn't I let go of myself when they hugged me tight?
Why was it that my pain always took the form of rage?
And my unspoken sweet words acted as knives piercing their veins?
Why did I tell the unforgiveable truth instead of telling the divine lie?
Why did I make such mistakes
And why don't I realise?
Why is it that they still stand next to me and say
"We'll always be by your side"?

Ankit J Chheda Nov 2017
We sometimes do unforgiveable things,
Some regrettable, and the best we can do,
Is live with them.
Jay Apr 2014
It got swept away in the storm of unforgiveable betrayal.
Kelcee All Jan 2019
I am not a monster..
just a misguided host
terrible, selfish, Unforgiveable truths and actions...
never wanted to stray...
words spoken...
never wanting to say...
regretting those betrayed...
but as I lay here in the bed I have made...
I am still beautiful...
enough said...
...Kelcee All
james nordlund Jul 2020
While **** continues to refuse to use the DPA to nationalize
the production and distribution of effective testing and PPEs,
which would save taxpayers 100's of billions of dollars over-
spent on gouged prices, and 100's of thousands of their lives,
he continues to preach his 'corona schmorona' policies at his
super-spreader of disease rallies, exterminating republicans.

They say, 'time is longer than twine', and 'to err is human,
to forgive, divine'.  It's unforgiveable, n'er forgettable.  Yet,
Joe's persistent perseverance in reminding our nation who
"..we(e),.." are and can be, not just life, relation in motion,
being evoking art, and illimitable potential, indivisible as
life, growing communally, yet also citizens of a great Union.
Remember, they finally settled on this attack when all others failed against Hillary, she wasn't "perfect"; excuse her for not being born a Black man.  As well, who is "perfect", no one; also, we shouldn't allow the perfect to be the enemy of the possible, the good.  If you didn't vote Hillary, you voted for the global criminal conspiracy to illegally install the **** of Utin into the Black House; they're at it again- don't you allow over-confidence, apathy, complacency, nihilism, self-possession, etc., to do it again, please.  Copy, share as you will.  Thanx for all you do, have a great day   :)   reality
Lee Osborn Jan 2016
First chance holds, the sweetest memories,
Shrouded now, in dense regret;
The pain of loss, un-abating,
As in concrete now is set.

I look for you, in all our places,
Remember the times, I loved so much,
But now you’re gone, beyond my reaching,
Never again will I feel your touch.

Your hair was a joy, a revelation,
Your eyes matched, the emerald sea.
Your warmth, a perfumed celebration,
Was there ever a sorrier wretch than me?

I hug my pillows, in the night,
Stretch across sheets, where you used to lie,
Trying to fill, the void inside me,
Anguished tears do I cry.

For your love you gave, without withholding,
Interwoven, with unfailing trust,
Falsely I broke, the covenant between us,
And the love you felt has turned to dust.


Some mornings I wake, reach out for you,
Feel the pain, because you’re not there,
I fantasize, that we cuddle and talk,
And I try and pretend you still care.

My home echoes emptiness, your spirit has flown,
No excuses, can ever set me free.
You don’t need, explanations,
You know I failed you when I first failed me.

So I’m left, with my sorrow,
My emotions still, bleeding raw.
To be with you, and to hold you,
Kiss you love you again once more.

What I did, was so unforgiveable,
So much less than, what you believed could be,
But remember the man, you once thought so much of,
That’s the real one that is me.

Let me prove it, for the rest of my life,
That the situation, led me awry,
Never again, will I ever hurt you,
I will make you happy if you let me try.

My soul reaches out, in longing yearning,
To see your face, at my door,
For your smile your words, to see you dance,
I implore you, won’t you give me…………A Second Chance.
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2021
the perks of living with someone you care about...
as it stands...
where else would i live with my private library?
would i really need to rent a whole place all
for myself: have indoor plants for company
and give up shared "custody" of two maine *****?
in order for what?
bring some girl back on a Friday evening or
a Saturday night?
sure... it's not perfect...
                      but in eastern cultures: multi-generational
living arrangements are a norm...
at the end of her life:
my great-grandmother lived with her daughter
and her son-in-law...
a true stoic... she would pray for the pain
to go away rather than sometimes take painkillers...
she never drank coffee...
nor smoked... nor drank alcohol...
even she said that she ought to have been a nun...
hey presto: two generations later: et moi...
perhaps eastern cultures really do begin
in Europe where the Ottomans and the Mongols
did a knock-knock: who's there line of jokes...
perhaps England was: or even is:
too insulated from the outside world:
the turmoil of the continent...
hell... what's that quote from the famous poet-librarian?
this be the verse:
your parents ******* up...
sure... it's not perfect...
   i had to be an opportunist when it came to ***
outside of going to the brothel...
one Thai surprise done in the garden...
the house was empty though:
but still...
thank god i can tame my libido and ask it to come
out when... oddly enough:
last time a 5 year period of abstinence ended
when i was grooming the female of the two maine *****...
the way she raised her backside:
i had to find an outlet...
otherwise i'd be thinking about: goat-******* or something...
anyway... of course they'r not perfect people:
but i'm no angel either...
it's beside the point: but at least i don't have
to think about forking out on payment for an old people's home...
like today: my father gets a cold...
takes the usual medication to combat the cold
but i also make him an archaic medicine
that consists of:
a raw egg yolk beaten to a state of 'kogiel-mogiel'
with some aspen honey...
this is subsequently drenched in 50g of butter melted
in heated up milk...
apparently it works miracles:
some would say that a prime symptom of a cold
is the excess build up of phlegm...
he'll sweat it out... cough it up...
writing this in English seems rather absurd...
the individual... the individual...
i still feel a stigma associated with this sort of a living
arrangement...
but i see one Nigerian household next to mine...
another Sikh household: two siblings in each...
across the street an English household still houses
one of their daughters...
but they'll be moving across the street two doors down...
why was there ever this stigma of having
parents? esp. as the west is known for being
this solace of the solipsistic singletons?
"solipsistic": which is halfway autistic...
it's just a nicer term...
i care that i can care:
i can write my little doodles while also playing the fiddle
of: if there is any medieval movie adaptation:
**** the knight: i'm the inn-keeper...
i'll take care of the household and i'll do the cooking:
thank you, very much...
there is no culinary tradition running in my veins...
my grandmother always managed to roast
the chicken to the point where it almost felt
like eating chalk...
so no... no great: tradition in terms of culinary lineage...
i'v already settled my score when it comes
to eating curry... except for breakfast:
i could eat that **** all day...
but lucky for some: to have been born in a geographic
region as rich as it is with: RIDDLED with spices!
too bad when it comes to baking bread...
well... with the exception of the na'an bread:
but i'm pretty sure the Europeans must have introduced
the concept of using yeast for dough to rise...
what was prior? oh... right...
the Peruvian... Aztec-esque japati flat-bread...
nothing exactly fancy akin to a French croissant...
qwa-sont... yeah... looks pretty ugly when stressed
phonetically...
also: phonetically...
voy-yack... v'oh-yack...woe-jack?! seriously
well it's not exactly a ckwa-sont... is it?
psychiatry and the art of implanting false
memories: otherwise known as regression...
even in the Freudian schematic:
rich girls having dreams...
look at me... i rarely dream...
i sit at this well of an imposing void:
which harvests a vastness of sigma:
the totality that's also equate to animation
of the body and...
therapy doesn't solve much...
"talking about it": doesn't help if you're reading Kant...
what will talking do...
if thinking about it does much less
when not thinking about it does much
more?
what was once the Cartesian res cogitans
model... with doubt...
has now become my own version..
the res vanus (the empty thing)
with doubt being replaced by negation:
perhaps in bad faith... but with good intentions...
as the saying goes:
the way towards hell is paved with good
intentions...
it's also paved with a sadness
that's stimulating... i leech off of my sadness...
every time i'm close to tears
i'm usually attested to by a croaking of a crow...
i find more empathy for animals than
i do for fellow human beings...
because i understand that they understand:
how dumb they actually are...
hell: i understand that they don't understand
what dumbness even is: to begin with!
but when it comes to me
in reverse "courtesy": of when it comes to minding
traffic: being part of traffic...
i find certain traits in humans...
simply... unforgiveable...
pretending to be ghost when stepping
into a designated bicycle lane...
driving a VW Golf thinking it's a ******* tank:
stalking drivers that act al timid when
attempting to pass you by...
it will always come down to this sort
of scrutiny...
it's not as banal as when the whole world
laughed when the Polacks charged against
Third ***** Panzers on horseback:
but it's relatively close...
i speak a western language: it is infused with me:
i'm not a westerner...
i have historical tattoos...
i mind the hour...
perhaps it's true what a Norwegian writer
wrote about the Swedes...
perhaps these people haven't been invaded
for a long time... that they end up:
procrastinating their lives...
fair-play if they invent games with that time: given....
but perhaps they haven't been invaded in
a long while... rancid loitering...
procrastinating...
they weren't given the dialectical break-a-bone
sort of treatment...
of a people who decided to speak about
orthography: without employing
a single diacritical marker of distinction...
you begin to wonder...
is it really "orthography" and not merely a spelling
mistake if you: take out one of the ELs
from speling?
          obviously aesthetically dis-pleasurable...
but... wrong?

last time i heard: Japanese living arrangements
were no up to "shape":
with couples booking hotel dates pretending
the rooms to be brothel lingering abodes...
as the standard of living has gone up...
so has our expectation to live it: likewise...
there... a road for concession...
why do i drink?
mein gott... being sober is such
bad weather...
such a timid "conversation"...
           nothing is ever metaphor or misnomer
worthy: everything simply
alligns with the cogs in the "machinery":
there's all the deus ex machina
but none of the **** in machina!

stating... bluntly that life is ****
isn't cutting it!
obviously... odiously... it's like there's a b'aaah...
bad smell around the carcass....
after a while even fat
starts to be tinged with whiffs
of acidity... did you know that?
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2020
the pre anglo-saxon england:
this arthurian myths of:
   some celtic bride and some leftover
legionnaire regaining status:
or gaining status -

pre anglo-saxon england:
oh god... that cocktail of celts and
the welsh...
well: it's anglo-saxon england
that entertained the vikings...
and later the vikings that settled
in northern france...

the monstrous export of
the anglo-saxon republican export
from the h'american colonies...
a strict work ethic...
work hard...
em... how hard can you work
in an environment of
window-dressing...
of being a cat-walk exemplar...
work hard...
stacking supermarket shelves?
can you turn bulging machine
having:
the capacity for unforgiveable
spontaneity:
i figured: a poem a day
keeps the psychiatrist away:

the apples are rotting...
the bears are getting drunk on them...
staggering around senseless seem-like
in a cider tango...

a work ethic... where... mostly...
the ethic of work is: dasein -
a mere being there...
a presence of something that
doesn't discount the rubric of:
the long-stretch of time...
mannequins at work...
staging a cul de sac coup d'etat -
work ethic...
after a while competing
with machinery:
in a thespian despotism
and a d.j. roulette is not enough
for: me to spew rhyme after rhyme...

i would hardly want to disgrace
anyone at work...
lucky for me a dream i had
only yesterday:
i was chased by a faceless throng
of people who wanted
me to stand on a stage...
and persuade the "less initiated"
with new testament jargon:
i was invited to become
the last conventional:
the confidence man: an orator...

not a politician... as such -
not a rhetorician... not lying for
a purpose: more... lying for lying per se...
i rarely dream where i can bring
back images of the dream...

i honestly don't know what
the "whiteness" argument is with these
critical-race theorists...
these neo-marxists...
i latched / i eavesdropped on a conversation
and i'm: precisely here:
nowhere...

      work efficiency: baking too much
bread... what is... "work"...
it's certainly not something as
crystal clear as...
sitting through a le mans' episode
of 24h within the confines
of the marathons of a football match...

snooker nears the concern for
the spectator -
          
  but i'm just eavesdropping -
   i can't buy the new left from the west...
      there's just too much idiosynchronicity
that pulling it apart:
i want the ride on the roulette -
rotondo - ferris-wheel -
i just can't buy western socialism:
it's pretend hive for a season
mentality...
      a whim a vogue:
                 a fly rattling the purpose
of space abstracted to its erracting
flight confined to a cube...

i'm hardly: well... how doesn't it feel
being mistook for a german or a swede
in england...
then again only copper-skins
on edgware road selling quran pamphlets
asked me whether i was german...

i must say: i didn't mind that...
if they suppose i was russian...
i might have minded that...
               i am always this little boring
mr. incognito a retail
of non grata -
          my poverty of history:
i'll ***** myself around the world
never making it to grand h'america...
in england i'll...
honest to god:
gladly scoff the battered cod
and the chips come a friday...

          i don't need to see the sea:
ha: on the continent people had
to plan for summer and for trains
and transit... to... "get 'em away from
the mountains": no camping freaks
among them... lazing on the beaches
until the sun might turn into
crab-mouths nibbling on them...

come on though...
oysters?! that semi-solid sponge of
goo and glue managed to earn...
itself a rolling-pin's worth
of a shell...
well... the human brain is no better:
considering that it was hijacked
by a mushroom... come
the post-aquatic process
of redefining standing-up straight...

perhaps i own my bedroom:
this little guise for the world to understand:
but then one cat if attempting
to sleep in my bed
and the other in the armchair:
while i'm sitting reading
the pickwick papers
sitting against a cold radiator -

she doesn't like me teasing her hind
near: what is her tail:
my imaginary coccyx and her
cranium 69 psalm...
she harks at me...
she butchers me with boxing gloves:
i am expecting
******* sized up to mosquito replicas...
she draws blood from the index...
i smear the drawing of
blood onto her furry nose...

i was too young to have fallen
for such a love of ***
that would never translate
itself into a "love" that could
have us: find each other...
pairing and piling up with
a glad tiding of responsibilities...
i still remember
this "other" one as she took
me to a party just before
bloc party arrived
and a girl might inquire me
as to why i wore
a eisen-kreuz t-shirt...

               it must be self-explanatory:
i have yet to live the unforget-
-able life...
this colt this Abel this leisure of activity:
when pitiable Cain has to wade
through the tsunami of...
the roman gentleman:
forever out of context:
      there's some "inevitable" and there's
some "traditionalism"
       and there's PREJUDICE
against occupations requiring manual
labour: these befitting slaves...
mind you: retail trades have
come through the aeon as...
devoid of criticism or allowing
a self-awareness...
      
concerning now i am no high-brow
thinker:
i am ashamed to "think" to put
this fudge-packing to paper...
wow! no paper!
pixel digits of beelzebub's voyeurism...
i find my agony in
that: physical labour needs
to find its detail:
i can't find escape in the per
se of poetry from long ago...

i need to rise up i need to rise
with aa riddle: to riddle the princesses
with my own lost joy, joke & rhyme...
butchers' pressures for
*******...
the detailed art of the inconvenient
**** stressed with:
ghosts macabre:
if the niqab was addressed
by some variation of: Coco Chanel:
the long white 'un...

i'd love to see a niqab paraded
in white...
               i was the con-stipated...
i was the con-findance artist being
chased by a face clot of bass riddling base?
who's o.k. who's not this new:
pristine vogue of perfect?
my shattered little blessed purpose
insignia of g'aah g'aah:
better: blah?
no reiteration within the confines
of nervousness -
i will not seek any variation
of new york...
i will not make conquest
of coastline h'america...
give me my mundane suppose
euorpa and
some ******* mediocre "supposed"
teasing anti-adventure fly-over...
grey-the-grit-grey-first-born...

i the summoned echo of Abel...
while Cain has his pop-tarts
in the h'american
celebration of serial killers...
and: mother siberia welcomes!
oh god... who needs them shackled
up... let's just drop them...
into a geography that might
expand their minds!
wouldn't it be... fair?
no new africa this new Sib?!

it would account for the moon-goal:
ha! mongrel / 'ongol...
very funny: as english always is...
when it can be tested
with phoneticism...
and a dickensian sam weller's: gadanie:
spreschen...
best kept patriotic: nervous angle...
no new blue: all old blanche... ha ha...
nervous ******* twinkle...
borrowed bliss... no north 19th century...
ha ha...

  but it's still a chapter or two where:
the dickensian narrative sort of:
left me: as it left him...
just pass the time...
as every novel does:
line the lineage...
mould - just enough dough
or words for the readers
to: ahem... "mishap"
a tumbleweed moment...

execution of the antithesis of
"buddhist" posturing:
not finding a cushion to not think...
read a book in an iron maiden
fixation:
play the freely available russian...
i will never come across
the intricacies of h'america from
a postcard...
i will never make it to iowa:
iowa per se...
outside of the federal export
narrative of a myth of a
nation-project...

   i want to see the sort of
h'america the rest of the coastline
decided to **** on...
but i've already seen st. petersburg
from the perspective of:
great *** and no one ever wanted
to listen to bob dylan...
there was a necessary stipend
of reading a bulgakov...
         which i did...
          while moscow and metallica was...
let's just forget it:
i find the most pristine ideal
of a day...
come my little solo rummaging
of the woods come the raj spices
of autumn...
come these ancient woods
that will never borrow acorns...

i went back a side-step back
toward the ***** of abraham marx -
and i came back:
trojan projects:
mass graves of Ypres:
deserved by the germans...
have these mass graves...
but a solitary statue of...
at least the achilles heel of "st." michael...
will you not dare to claim
the laughter of Ares?
then succumb to a "saint" and michael...

**** your incongruity -
i tend to make an event of walking out
from this house
with an apple in tow...
and like some philosopher...
leaving enough flesh prior to the core...
before ackowledging
the possibility of the magic
trick being towed...

i can eat the whole apple and
there's no cider coming from the seeds...
write the metaphor of the bible
anew:
apples are not new to the riddled east...

ah! ah! ah ha ha ha ha ha!
the riddled east!
give 'em the nocturnal flesh
of a phlegm compact fig...
  give them the dates...
the oranges... the lemons...
         who was moses to give them
the apple?
last time i heard apples originated
in kazakh territory:
which was picked up
with the mongol migration...
along with the beijing plethora
of dumplings...
  
england is still far far away...
ready to make it's surf exploration first...
thirst for moon in north h'america...
first come first served:
last time i heard:
iceland didn't beat them...
because... ha!              ah ha ha ha!

first i played a recorder...
cheap plastic...
no... there was no mention of a flute...
i was english i was i never never...
but it's not like...
i had the vantage point...
of the english...
since no one really wanted
to live on iceland...
england prior to the anglo-saxons...
yes... these:
leftover peoples: troll...

ich muss "troll"...
      shwemme-affe-contra-hund:
scheissegrubestapelregalneu!
   ich: ja... westen bankrottberliner:
mein ebenfalls: kaiserbrötchen!

one might simply tire of pandering
to the germans...
one simply can...
as one might excuse oneself to teasing
the mongols: via the russians...
so... it's a no man's land...
through and through...

   i.e. where's what middle with
the middle of the east
that's also: "york" and the yacht and
the islamic mystics: rumi from afghanistan from
the 13th century or otherwise...
the senior draft?
no... solipsism adventure: primo!
the bangladeshi are slaves
when cicero had to speak: proper...
necromancy for the believe-ability
of the existence of arabs...
camel jockeys...
            the nobel routine handlers...
shadow rubric oopses -

there is not need for a coupling for
communism with Jainism -
when the doggy-mom does her bit
and the thief from Camden Town
does his: leash to lynch...
empires the metaphors:
the peoples the jack 'o' cracks:
pancakes... and the littering
to street with...
all thoe romanian / bulgarian
****** you didn't ****...
because ****'s son slashed the broker
on the northern duaghter
you...   hindered...
  stroked bloke & towed
fiddled barrels...
   like some "ilford"...
          
the "solution" is...
all tongues but no spanners...
the "solution" is...
all tongues but hammers...
              my best inclined: fugitive
of a body... this fetish toad-ape
a colour figurative
of imitating traffic heed...

my best blotched narcoleptic
blond-Fe....
ironing suitor...
    ape gesticulating
supposed applause...
for the audience to cwy away
an about: a'goo...

               cicero minded: might have...
"slaves" take up the deeds of
aesops in the deeds of the row-men...
or the same-ethno-minded:
belittled brain-custrd-fudgings...
A                           A                       A
my exploited nuo lambda...

i wriggle with a rare
rage most impossible...
i tinge these letters:
the spice list for a karma sutra
of
outdates the necessities
of the new testament as:
any new sort of investment:

didn't you know?
the serenity of a composition...
bach will never ride
a donkey:
among the four horsemen...
there was one with death: implicit...
towing a donkey... riding: slow...
and it's not that i might make
bach pop: or propping up...
i have no romance with
some borrowing of
"amore" of italy:
               pizza pardons?!
i quite like the tenderness
of the "in-between-bits" of
liver... stendhal!
the rubric details:
                         i oppose a suggestion
that something could be claimed
to make monstrosity
of sketching forward this...
ahem... modern...
man...

"we": i found it very much necessary
for the modern man to talk
this borrowing from nuance...
this bowing-down
burrowing:
thorough.. through...
my long lost asp and bulgar...
the sort of exotica that
the british never tasted:
it was Bulgaria that was not...
not ever... Haiti...
and because of... what?
white's what?

       middle of "my" jerusalem?
i can't fathom a... "middle yeast"...
from a region that doesn't
need beer...
ergo and "ergo"...
the riddled east...
troll the overt-simplification...
that let's me toll up stupid
and there's no necessary
i.q. quest -
yes.... the pay-back for
toying with both tourist
and the cricket teams / themes...

my last middle...
it's an yeast! a brain-borrow:
born bread-winner"
riddled "eat"!
oh ****...       tiny tony
and that major SHA-SHA!
Theodorus Rex Sep 2023
The treachery of over-staying a welcome
Is as unforgiveable
As the closing of night
       or the blossom that parts  

Leaving ribbons of kisses
Only to return for them again.
& we laugh at the skeletons
Hanging idle in our closets -
We dress them in silly clothes
& amusing poses
To reduce their power

Now we take shelter
In the sheets of your bed
I am constructing my movements
From the blueprint of your body

We commune in to defeat grief  
We trespass & disrespect the mundane
A new ritual -
From San Pablo rd
To the sea
I lean into you
You lean into me

_________
What is unforgivable?

Is there such a thing as an unforgivable act?

If we accept that people have regrets, that people change, that people let you down, that we let people down, that everyone has the very best intentions (don't we all have all the best intentions?)

Then what is unforgiveable?

I do not believe in any kind of God.
I do not believe that forgiveness is my duty,
No-one demands this of me, that which I cannot give,
So why do I torment myself so?

And, he is out of my life, a friendship of ten years,
Lost in bitterness and tears
I can only forgive him inside...And I can't.

Does he forgive me?

We never said goodbye.

— The End —