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karen dannette Feb 2013
My pain is like a dripping faucet
abused and mistreated
My overall condition, worsening drip by drip by drip.
Filling up the sink of life and drowning slowly,
agonizingly.

Choices made with haste and without true understanding of the possible result of the bitterness and pain I was causing.
The loss of the only child you carried in your womb, protected and loved by you, tenderly and with intent.
Mistakes so numerous, an exact moment of loss not known.
Immature woman given young child to raise in this world
of temptation, sin and emotional turbulence.......

-SIN OF THE FLESH CHOSEN OVER A GODLY LIFE-

My beautiful boy with a heart full of hope and abundance
damaged with a change of plans in my travels, unfairly and unjust.
Causing his vehicle to careen down an empty highway of bitterness and isolation.
Fortifying walls around his heart full of abundance of trust and love
Now cold and distant from the mother that shielded him from pain with strain and exertion.

My voice beckons him from across the canyon
To PLEASE allow me to make things ok again between us.
But, alas, only the echo of my own voice is rocketing in the distance
Emptiness and hopelessness, I strain to hear anything at all, no emotion allowed to return to me.  Not even an angry voice.
Beating myself with a metal chain, ****** and in complete desperation, standing on piercing nails with ripped off limbs.....

-OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER-  
FOR EVER??  
NO MORE CHANCES.  
FORGOTTEN, WATCHING IN DESPAIR AS HIS LIFE GOES ON WITHOUT ME
SO EASILY, HE MAKES IT APPEAR.

Regret is like an ancient building ruining the value of its neighbors
decrepit and broken down,
Depraved, isolated and abandoned with recklessness.
So ugly on the outside, no one dares try to re-enter the condemnation of the door.
No one believes it can ever be restored to its original beauty and inspiration.

Hopeful and optimistic for a reunion of remembrance and forgiveness.
Determined with purpose, willing to risk looking shamed and unlovable.
No more self-respect because of hasty, decisions and instant gratification.
Still holding my breath.  Could this be the time I call and he finally comes around?
Grasping to clutch, once again, the blessed unconditional love and trust of my only son.

Negligent and selfish, unintentional life choices of a mother
Difficult to completely accept responsibility for injuries sustained by my misjudgment.
Finally, after years of scripture and study,
Understanding the agony and misery
God must have felt to watch Jesus' beaten and prodded,

GOD SACRIFICED HIS ONLY SON
............THE ONLY WAY TO SHIELD US FROM THE UNIMAGINABLE PAIN AND MISERY
OF AN  ETERNITY  IN HELL ALONE AND UNWANTED
FINALLY RENEWED WITH FORGIVENESS!!!
AFTER WE HAD SINNED AGAINST HIM SINCE THE GARDEN OF EDEN FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS.

Almost insane from the self-inflicted abuse,
Survival instincts start to make me want to give up and continue my bad choices to numb the memory of him.
Yet, still begging to have him love me again, even if it was for a single minute.
Dreaming of a loving hug from son to mother in earnest and heartfelt.  Willing to settle ANY emotion at all reciprocated.
Hoping he never makes a mistake that causes such irreparable intensity, empty and unwanted.

After 12 years of comforting and soothing and protection,
Everything lost, no more memory at all of mother needed...
No thought of how important he made me feel at one time.
Only father standing proud in picture next to child
                Lovingly smiling at him with adoration.

He respects him and loves him as much as he condemns and disregards me.
               He only speaks or thinks of me with disdain and total detachment
And.. Only when absolutely unavoidable and by force, it appears.
What kind of hell on earth is this?  
           My own tears drown my hope and regret now defines me with each effort of possible reconciliation that is tossed away like an unwanted thing.  

Drip, drip, drip.
My heart is ripped into a million pieces, by my own hand.  
Never to be needed again
If forgiveness will never be possible, tell me now.
                 Please have mercy, while I grieve the loss of my only son.  Yet he lives.
addiction  ad·dic·tion (ə-dĭk'shən)
n.
Habitual psychological and physiological dependence on a substance or practice beyond one's voluntary control causing regret and devastation to loved ones..
sometimes, irreparable.
Christian Davis Feb 2012
He who expends his days a wanderer,
Is not aware of his gift,
Though he may hunger,
and steal into the wicked alleys
where the spirits of evil men dwell,
He lives and sees the world in a view,
one that is unimaginable,
as he sings lowly as he walks through the end of night,
He has no possessions that are worth possessing,
Such that another wanderer may wish for his own,
None except his life,
One of seeing the world from the outside,
As he is starving from within.

I gave him some money, and offered him my seat.
And society's eye upon me
as if I am naive,
but I wish them to hold their assumptions,
for I believed this man, even his lies.
I could sense his sincerity,
as distinguished from the typical
**** beggars that would scold
anyone's failure of compliance.
And though he solicited me until the last moment,
I knew that my advice may settle in,
and for he to use his supreme vantage point
of a Sufferer of the City, one without another,
I asked this man, who convinced me of his
desire to be a writer, to document his days.
And to educate himself, this 30-year-old, black, amputee,
Torn between drugs and gangs, and a better life
that is unattainable.

I asked him to be infallible in his refusal of
Those evils which will deteriorate his soul,
For its royalty will be paralleled not to material wealth,
but to any base behavior, or noble virtue.
and if he stutters in his gait, to channel such self destruction into
a productive means to write about his sufferings.
i Mar 2014
the blue vein
that is visible through
your fine skin,
rushes blood
and pumps adrenaline
through your whole body,
so you can jump off
that cliff,
that blue vein gives
you courage to do
the unimaginable.
answer Aug 2013
One gave a necklace
One gave a bouquet of flowers

One will last forever
One will be turned to dust by now

If given the choice what do you choose?

The one that will be a constant reminder of first intense love then unimaginable pain
Or the one that will in time become a funny anecdote at dinner party over cocktails
Jess Rose Apr 2010
I would like to imagine that you and I are each a nucleus
And somewhere else, miles away
The rest of us is spinning
On some course with unimaginable science and math
Involved
And that somewhere, miles from both of us
Those flying terrifying parts found each other
And held hands
And together we made something more complex
That involved diagrams with little lines and letters

I would again like to imagine
That I am sitting in my center
Miles from that chaos
And that I can’t feel the rest of me, spinning
And complex
That I can’t feel that part of you that is attached to me
And I can’t feel when that bond breaks
And again we are something less then we used to be

Yes, I would like to imagine that.
Raphael Uzor May 2014
I read the book of Samuel
I read the story of the Israelites
Of how they rejected God
“We want a king!” they demanded
“We want to be like other nations”
Rejecting God’s kingship.

The same God who brought them up
Out of the ******* of Pharaoh
Out of slavery in Egypt
The same God who gave them victories
Over many nations and wars
The same God who had fed them
For forty years in the wilderness
Same God who had proved
Beyond reasonable doubt
That He is the King of kings
A Lord above all lords
They chose to downgrade!

I was swept away in a mind journey
As I thought of how it must have felt
To be rejected by your own children
Repudiated by your beloved
Disowned by the very people you love.

My heart bled!
The heartbreak was unimaginable
The pain was excruciating
As my mind pointed fingers of accusation
I couldn’t find befitting words
“Foolish Israelites!”
“Unrepentant idiots!”
“Stubborn generation!”

And as my mind went awry
Heaping insults on God’s people
Raining accusations on them
Judging an imperfect people as myself…

His still small voice whispered
“You are all the same”
“You have done worse”


Then it struck me
Like a lightening of a million volts
I am the Israelites
I am the very people of God
I am the same ones I condemn
I have betrayed God repeatedly
I have chosen sin above my maker
My iniquities know no bounds
I have trivialized His blood
I have made a mess of the cross.

I am the “foolish Israelites!”
I am the “unrepentant idiots!”
I am the “stubborn generation!”

My heart melted into tears
Shame covered me like a cloud
My head was bowed in ignominy.

Unable to speak or move
I lay there, weeping at my wickedness
No words were spoken
But I felt His arms embrace me
In acknowledgement of my repentance
I never deserved it
But He loved me nonetheless.
I pointed one finger at them
But three pointed back at me!


© Raphael Uzor
Derrick Twidwell Apr 2014
I want to be so close to you right now
Please come close to me
Let me hold your hand tight
Don't want to let it go

That smile (oh that smile)
Will out shine a supernova
Your eyes (oh those eyes)
Show such amazing inner beauty

My heart beat races unimaginable as I see your smile
Such fast beats my breath can't keep up
My eyes so mesmerized by the inner beauty in you
Eyes of pure beauty

That smile (oh that smile)
Will out shine a supernova
Your eyes (oh those eyes)
Show such amazing inner beauty

Just one kiss my dear just one
Lead to so many more, so much more
Can you hear my heart?
It  whispers "I only need you"

Don't ever want to see a single tear fall from your gorgeous eyes
Smile each and every day as you think of us
My smile is so bright as I think of us

That smile (oh that smile)
Will out shine a supernova
Your eyes (oh those eyes)
Show such amazing inner beauty
Mark Donnelly Jun 2016
Star's in night sky an unimaginable number to the naked eye,
eyes travel through space searching for a glimmering star,
thoughts travel through the minds neural sky synapsing like bright inner stars,
from outer to inner space there is much to see,
eyes search for the wonderful sight,
thoughts search the mind for hope and reason that might,
the more we travel the more we learn,
experience opens the mind and the sky,
acceptance and love expands as we travel,
hope is gained the less we hold back and the more we ask why,
negativity lost as pain and hurt unravels,
through knowledge gained insight opens the door,
a door to a better life as that suffering parts,
a journey is long whether through mind or eye,
experience gained only with both open,
so lets open and travel far and wide.
I study psychology, and so i think sometimes as i look at the stars our mind is such. Light travels through space searching for something to shine on, our thoughts travel our mind searching for meaning. So i think both are similar.
SN Mrax Jun 2014
I have an incoherent proposal for you.
It is incoherent because I lack both the courage and clarity.

Anyway, as you know this world is riddled with
brailles and imaginary synaesthesic hints over all that seems
to be what it is.

Yes, all that *******.

So here I stand before you.

Punctured and drawn, pulpy and inelegant.
Wry, silly and dire. Cultivated and ridiculous.

It’s.

Scratch that.

In the mind

you have said emotions

we are

not lines.

nope.

Sky wire.

Erm

If

None of what I say is true.

Look past me and see what’s real.

And that.

I’m hoping you want that,

to touch the electric, liquid-ish paths

and vector strings.

If.

I’m a non-bundle of emotions
lately—not sleep though—

and it’s not you.

Just desperate for

not someone.

Just desperate to
get past selfhood
with somebody else
to keep it interesting

and it makes as much sense as anything

so I don’t want to talk ******* but
would you, as a complicated instrument,
like to get outside ourselves
and not play
but be wildly serious?
beatrice dossah Aug 2012
I TOOK WALK TO BULLER BEACH
I COULD NOT WALK ON THE SAND WITH MY BARE FEET
THE WAVES BROUGHT TO THE SHORE TAMPONS, CONDOMS AND PLASTIC
EVERYWHERE WAS CHAOTIC
THE SEAS HAVE BECOME A DUMPING SITE
WITH ******* PILED TO AN UNIMAGINABLE HEIGHT
MEN, WOMEN AND CHILDREN DEFECATING ON ROCKS
WITH NO SHAME
NO WONDER ITS NAME
TURTLES , DOLPHINS AND SEA BIRDS ARE DYING
THEY SWALLOW PLASTICS AND DIE FROM CHOKING
IF FISHER MEN ARE CATCHING PLASTIC TRASH
HOW CAN THEY MAKE MORE CASH?
CHANGE UR WAYS
AVOID THE TAKEAWAYS
Marshal Gebbie Aug 2023
Everything is BIG here.

Meals are big, bums are big, cars are huge and the skies are a million miles wide.

Janet and I are travelling in the Northwest of the United States of America, spending time with Boaz and Lisa in Idaho, Steve Yocum in Oregon and Greg and Linda in Washington State.

The trip is a "quickie" in that we are fitting one helluva lot into just three weeks duration.
Never in all my days have I seen such huge quantities of food served up in restaurant meals, plastic bags discarded, American flags fluttering and all the young, blonde girls in tattered, impossibly short cut offs and sleeveless tops talking loudly, incomprehensibly at a million miles an hour ......Just blows you away!!
Monstrous pickup trucks, Rams, Broncos, big V8s travelling the freeways continuously. Sheriffs, troopers and Road cops all wearing firearms on the hip, in their souped up pursuit vehicles parked on the roadside shoulder, eyeballing everyone as they pass, with a mean, accusatory glare.
Out on the range there is a million square miles of nothing but sage brush and basalt rock....and searing, baking heat.
114 degrees in the painted desert of Moab. Beautiful though with vaulting red sandstone cliffs and rearing stone arches against the blue-est of blue skies.
Standing pillars of ancient sedimentary rock born in depositions laid down in vast oceans of bygone eras, millions of years ago.

History is painted vast in this immensity. The gigantic and abrupt catastrophic inundation of a vast and deep inland sea, swelled suddenly by floodwaters of rivers diverted by lava flows from subterranean fissures....Unimaginable torrents abruptly released, gouging out ancient lava beds to create gigantic waterfalls and deep, sheer sided chasms.

Cascades that constituted the biggest river flow ever known in the history of the planet, washing away everything from the epicentre of the continent in Utah through Idaho to the Pacific ocean in the rugged coast of Oregon. Such was the Bonneville flood of 12,000 years ago illustrated today by the gigantic chasms created in the beds of basalt and rhyolitic larva throughout Idaho and the fields of massive, round, house sized boulders strewn from the floods origin near what is now, Salt Lake City in Utah to the coast in Oregon, a thousand kilometers away.

The two weeks stay with Boaz and Lisa just disappeared in a flash. They took us down to Moab painted desert, Zion National park, the Craters of the Moon, Monument National Park and up to Stanley and the Sawtooth mountains by the mighty Salmon river. Janet and I took advantage of a couple of push bikes hanging in the garage and spent most days cycling the local trails and visiting Starbucks for a celebratory cappuccino or two....Those bikes saved our bacon, walking trails in that heat was ******. Great hospitality enjoyed here. watched reruns of Sopranos on Boaz's 70 " SmartScreen TV and enjoyed Arnie's escape from postwar Austria to Mr Universe and fame and fortune @ Hollywood with Boaz whilst enjoying chilled margaritas in the hot tub.

The camaraderie of meeting an old mate of 45 years past, Steve Yocum of Oregon  a fellow writer and author. Both of us intent on shooting the breeze, putting the world to right. In some ways a sad exercise in that no longer can either of us make things right for with age upon us, neither has influence. We can huff n puff n blow the house down....but it seems, nobody pays the slightest bit of attention. The penalty of age is invisibility. The relief in it all is that, really, nobody actually gives a hoot!

Just two Old Dogs letting off steam..... it's rather cathartic actually! Thanks to Stevo, Ian and lovely Heidi for the accommodation, great hospitality and warmth.

The cool atmospheric relief of the serene and calm, Puget Sound in Seattle, Washington state gave welcome respite from the intense heat of the interior and the serenity of our cottage accommodations and startlingly beautiful garden surrounds. A forest of conifers and deciduous trees harboured gardens of blooming roses, hollyhocks and multihued cone flowers, emerald lawns carve swarths of sunlight in avenues of deep, green shade....a delight for the sunburnt brows of yesterday's heat.
Woken by the bassoon blast of the passing early morning ferry out in the waterway, to stroll out to sit at the very edge of the sandy, pebble beach and gentle surge of the deep, clear saline waters of the magnificent Puget Sound.
The peace of early morning crisp cool air, a seascape of moored fishing boats on mirrored waters, the distant Olympic range rearing to its' full 7,000 ft against a powder blue sky left us quite breathless with the utter beauty of it all....add to that a lovely breakfast offering of fresh berries, kiwifruit slices and yogurt and a chilled glass of fresh squeezed orange juice...and we absolutely, couldn't want for anything more. To Greg and Linda our love and thanks for giving up your beautiful bed, travelling us around beautiful Seattle and being our airline coach to and from Portland. We shall return the warm hospitality next time you hit NZ and Taranaki.

Vulcanism has dominated the terrain in Idaho, Montana, and Utah. Continental drift westward of the land mass has brought about a steady transference eastward of the massive geothermal hot spot which currently lies in Yellowstone park and which is the source of all volcanic activity within the park..
Idaho, in ancient times, wore the volcanic mantle of the region in having truly gigantic rhyolitic ash and magmatic eruptions. These cataclysmic eruptions emptied deep cavernous, subterranean magma chambers which collapsed under their own weight leaving vast circular calderas in the landscape. Subsequent plate tectonic activity caused deep faulting allowing huge flows of sticky magma to surge to the surface like searing hot black toothpaste, spreading across the plains obliterating all evidence of the rhyolite caulderas, surfacing the state, to this day, with millions of acres of hard black basaltic rock.
Here and there, rhyolite has wormed its way to the surface building gigantic domes, over the centuries these have weathered leaving statuesque, dramatic flat-topped mesa scattered across the landscape.
Altogether a truly unique and enthralling terrain for visitors to behold and one which reveals a dramatic insight to the volcanic and tectonic violence of the recent past and gives a definite air of mystique to the beholder.

In a land of 360 million people, supermarkets are downright huge...and they contain the spoils of the nation's plenty.
Acres of dazzling variety... and cheap by international standards. The very best of prime beefsteak, sides of pork, Alaskan cod freshly caught and displayed in rows of chilled enticing exhibit. Every possible vegetable and fresh picked fruit known to man in piled pyramids of brilliant, colourful display. Beautiful ornate furniture, beds, mattresses, tiers of car tyres of every conceivable brand and size, wheelbarrows, fertilizer, fresh flowers in mountainous display, ***** in barnlike chillers. Supermarket trolleys for giants..... and gird yourself for a marathon hike in collecting your basket of groceries...and give yourself half a day....you'll need it!

America has momentum, huge momentum. Across vast tracts of country lie networks of highway. Multilane concrete that tracks mile after mile carrying huge trucks with 40 tonne loads. Incessant trucks, one after another,  thundering along carrying the lifeblood of America, merchandise,  machinery, infrastructure, steel, timber and technology. Gigantic mobile freezers hauling food from the grower to the markets. Hauling excavators, harvesters,  bulldozers and giant Agricultural tractors. Night and day this massive source of production careers across the nation transporting the promise of America, the momentum which drives the Stars and Stripes onward, ever onward.

On the margins of the cities of Portland and Salem the unhoused gathered in squalid tent communities. In the beautiful city of Seattle I saw many down and out unshaven, untidy individuals with hopelessness in their eyes, pushing supermarket trolleys containing their sparse possessions. I drove through rural communities, some of which, reflected hardship and an air of despair. Run down dwellings in need of maintenance and repair, derelict rusty vehicles adorning the **** strewn frontages.
Not 20 kilometers away in Ketchum and Sun Valley Idaho the homes were palatial in grounds tended by gardeners and viticulturalists. Porsches and Range Rovers graced the ornate, rusticated porticoes. Wealth and privilege in evidence in every nuanced nook and cranny.
America is, indeed, a land of contrasts, a land of wealth, privilege, and plenty..... and yet a land that, somehow, tolerates and abides a fragile paucity which emblazons itself, embarrassingly, within the national profile.

On a hot day in Twin Falls, Idaho, I walked into a huge air-conditioned sporting goods store specifically to look at guns....and in the long glass cases there were hundreds of them. From snub nosed revolvers to Glocks, 38s, 45 caliber even western style Colt 45s and the ***** Harry Magnum with the long, blue gun barrel and classic, prominent foresight.
In the racks behind the counter are hung fully and semi-automatic rifles of myriad types...all available for sale providing the buyer has appropriate licensing.
In a land where mass shootings proliferate weekly, I ask myself....does this availability of lethal weaponry make sense?

The aching beauty of the mountain country in Northern Idaho, Oregon and Washington state cannot be overstated. The Sawtooth mountains, the Cascades, Mt Ranier, Mt Hood and the Olympic range. Ridgelines of towering conifers as far as the eye can see, waves of green deciduous running down to soft grassy clearings with boulder strewn, rushing streams and the cascade of plunging waterfalls. The magnificence of the natural beauty of this rugged, heavily timbered mountain country just defies description being far, far isolated from the attentions of man.

To happen upon this country from the far distant reaches of the South Pacific is a culture shock, to be suddenly exposed to the extreme largess. It is difficult to calibrate, hard to encompass, impossible to assimilate....but the people encountered warmed us with their generosity of spirit, their willingness to welcome travelling strangers into their homes....and, of course the invaluable time we spent with our family….and for these factors alone together with the huge magnificence that is this........
GRAND AMERICA.
We are truly, truly grateful.

Janet & Marshal
Foxglove@Taranaki.NZ
jeffrey robin Apr 2013
So shameless!
Writing  flippant verse
About severed body parts
And unimaginable suffering!
--
What an *** I am !
--
No
Respect!
--
For the victims!
For their families!
----
--
But wait
--
If you can't imagine the unimaginable suffering
You can't feel it!
And
Believe me
SOMEONE IS LAUGHING!
--
I think the disrespect is in the ACT OF SLAUGHTER

Not the reminder
---

The BOMB
(The ONE bomb)

Went off a long long time ago!
--

When we stopped caring for one another
when we stopped truly loving one another

When we ARMED OURSELVES
with
CALLOUSNESS
with
CYNICISM
with
GREEDINESS DISQUISED WITH WORDS SUCH AS PROSPERITY!
(And , of course
with
GUNS!)
--
So
--
OLE MC AMERICA HAD A BLAST!
(Eyi  eyi oh)
AN OLDIE BUT GOODIE FROM THE PAST!
(Eyi eyi oh)

Here a corpse there a corpse
And a neighborhood full of body parts!

(OR IS THIS JUST AN ANALOGY OF OUR SCHOOLS
AND THE WAY WE TREAT THE WORLD'S CHILDREN?)

OLE MC AMERICA AND ITS FARCE
(Eyi eyi oh)
------
One gigantic
WAKE UP CALL!

If you don't wake up?

THE JOKE'S ON YOU

DONT BLAME ME
ilkka sipilä Dec 2012
I can see them
Dancing in their fancy clothes
On the amputated arms and legs
That built their country

An unimaginable pain
Impossible to understand
By someone like me

The rich and prosperous
The westerners and the UN
With the help of media
Publish propaganda which we –  
Arrogant and naïve –
Believe
And think our government is honest
Purely because it’s stable
And most won’t even be able
To locate Sierra Leone
Or Rwanda
In the index of an atlas

And this stupidity of
The age of unnecessity
And overflow of emotionless objects
Slowly kills me

And one finger after another
I feel those masters of the third world
Hack and saw them off
But they’ll never get my spirit
And my heart
And these words will resound:
Down with lies and hatred
Down with money and policy
Down with exploitation and death
Now feel my love reach out to you
spysgrandson Aug 2012
I met the devil many times
didn't drink his beer for free (like Kris Kristofferson#)
or beat him in a fiddling duel (like Charlie Daniels##)
but he wasn't trying too hard to hide
or convince me he didn't reside
in all our hearts at one time or another

Instead, he allowed me to see his (and my) wicked ways
and make me afraid that at the end of my days
if I failed to follow a prescribed and sacred tradition
I would land in the ****** world of perdition

this loathsome chap serves a purpose indeed
and those who have the interminable need
pray fervently each and every day
hoping to keep this imp at bay

but without him and his miscreant acts
we would be stuck with unimaginable facts
like bad things happen without a reason
and nobody is guaranteed a winning season

So if you meet him on some dark and lonely path
(as I have many a time)
fear not you will incur his wrath
for without him there would be none to blame
and we alone would have to feel the shame
for all the woe that is the world

(#Kris Kristofferson wrote a song in which he states he didn't beat the devil, but he drank his beer for free--##Charlie Daniels had a tune where he has a fiddle duel with the devil--I believe Charlie wins in the song)
Bluie Mar 2016
i imagined telling you how i feel
be it the calmest possible way
or the most unimaginable one
*still, neither of it made you love me back
Brian Turner Oct 2022
This morning I caught the sky
Right in my hands
Nebulous, Cumulus all in one hand
Brightness, brightness , beaming out of my fingers

Holding it up
The power is unimaginable
I try not to put it out
Then suddenly...
Like a butterfly I let it go
#beautifulmorning
Rasmia Oct 2016
I lost a friend...
and it hurts so much
I lost a friend
I wake up each morning in tears

The thought that what once was
is no more is unimaginable.
We were suppose to make it
to the top.
We were suppose to achieve our
dreams.

I lost a friend...
who I've known for
years.

I lost a friend
who became so much more.

All my memories of him are pleasant.
The only thing I frown at is me when
I would act like a brat but he knew how to
combat that.

Met him in high school but
this summer it felt like
I met someone new.

All day messaging
all night talking
even some early morning
introspecting.

Hard to believe that months later
you are no longer here with me.

I write these words with full
tears in my eyes. I can't see the page
I'm looking towards the sky literally
asking God why.

I'm heart-broken.
Destiny Apr 2015
Blissful the wind feels my skin
Touching it smoothly, blows against it, ruffling
More and more, I find a sense of calmness.
A purity overturned, and made pure again.

Stars shine, but as they age they turn different colors.
Compacted, these aged stars of life become beautiful jewels.
But moreover, the persons mean more to us,
Because of their heart, and their character.
The love purifies our impurity somehow.

Not long ago, I was so miserable.
I wanted to take back all of those years.
I thought the pain I caused made me the most evil thing on earth.
I felt like I was nothing worth anything.
The fact that you didn't seem to care when others would've..
That made it worse.

But I have no regrets.
Everything has woven together beautifully.
And through love, purity is now pure again.
Purity in a richer form.

In the midst of gloom,
No one sees the immense pain I carry.
Fearing the worst, I always died before the actuality.
I was so immune to feeling.

This purity I feel I now have -
No it is not innocent, but it is beautiful,
Blissful, unforgettable, unimaginable.
Crow May 2023
wind shuffles
through the long grass

seeded heads
drowsy
in the percolating afternoon

broiled air
heavy and lethargic
laboriously ascends
its unseen ladder
into the barren sky

Arcady sings
from a place
of unimaginable height

the song
is a whisper
at the precipice

I am the wing
that awaits your breath
to take flight
Hunter Green Dec 2018
I get so mad knowing you will never understand what I see.
You can’t see the pain,
the memories,
or the people who make up these images.

My mind works in such an otherworldly way,
I wish it wasn’t so far away.
I wish I could just share it with the world.
Even if the vulnerability hurt me, it’d be worth it to be less lonely.
All my thoughts could be appreciated,
and in their own light,
to the right people only.

I think in sentiment, so the clues of the portraits I create,
would communicate in clear secrecy, the truth they bear about me.
This unimaginable beauty,
that even I only see in glimpses,
would maybe a have a place,
could maybe be hung in a museum,
sold in an auction,
stolen for its value,
fought for to save.
It’s infinite.
the stream, the river, the trees, the forest,,,
the undetected particles in the air glowing in the ray of gold squeezed between the canopy from the sun,
the world of green and blue underneath the repetitive streaming and complicated designs that carry rainbow colored fish,
even just the emptiness of sound at the precipice before the greatest vastest canyons of our earth...
You can’t dare to frame a single one of these without spending every medium you can find.

And now I think I get it:
Art cannot contain the beauty we see and feel,
It is meant to be a crack of a window to the inside of what's real.
Art borrows a pinch of the beauty to show the others a glimpse to awe at,
And if successful, that small crack may bring one into the glory of it all someday.
The reason I'll never spend my life in a office, or feel satisfied in the suburbs.
Cee Valenso Mar 2015
It is starting again.

The busy people around me are too preoccupied to notice it,
Too engrossed in their own little worlds
to give even an iota of attention to its wondrous arrival.
My fast, disorganized thoughts abruptly come to a shocking halt.

Their own little worlds.

Little.

I am taken aback by that single word that stood out
From all of the effusive words inside my nearly bursting mind.

Little.

I dared to describe their worlds little.

Little.

I dared to speak as if what was about to come
Is larger and vaster in terms of size.

Little.

I dared to speak as if it was immensely greater
And more powerful compared to theirs.

Little.

I dared to spit the insult out of my mouth,
But I will not take it back.

It is starting. The time has come once again.

It was once tinier than a speck
But it is now overshadowing everything that its power can take.

Its underestimated power is surprisingly getting stronger.

It is fast approaching and now it has become unstoppable.

They are starting to utter curses and bluster profanities,
Obviously abhorring the unexpected turning of the tables.
In contrast, I feel inexplicably elated.

They are now terrified,
Their uncaring eyes instantly bulging wide
Upon witnessing the boisterous display of its power.
Despite their fears, I feel valiant, certainly brave.

They are beginning to scurry off in haste
To seek for safety and security as they all dashed
To find a confined place, away from the approaching force.
On the contrary, I feel safe out in the open.

They want to escape the settling darkness,
Longing vehemently to see a ray of light
Amidst the perilous surroundings.
On the other hand, I feel comfort and belongingness.

As they all hid themselves away from the inescapable reality
And decided to lock their useless doors and penetrable windows,
I stood still on this copious ground.
I remained stationary as the authentic rubber beneath my old sneakers
Strengthened its affinity with the asphalt ground.

I closed my eyes,
Not to depict a paradigm of disembodying my entire self from reality,
But rather to show how willing I am to accept what was enveloping me.

The monochrome darkness that it possesses was like a vast mirror
Reflecting all the hidden woes and sorrows inside my beating heart.
Then I realized that we did not just resemble each other.
We had become one.

While I disabled my sense of sight for a moment,
Shortly forgot the purpose of my sense of touch,
Ignored completely my sense of smell and my sense of taste,
The one remaining became prominent.

A clamorous sound filled my ears.
It was a deafening scream from the fearsome entity.
The sound banged my eardrums wildly but it did not hurt.
The horrifying sound resonated through my body,
Awakening every dozing part of my being
And eventually giving life to my dying soul.

The loud voice covered the unoccupied land,
Walked through every existing path
And vociferously shouted out its untold sufferings.
During that event, we were still one.
The ear-splitting shriek belonged to us.
The heart aching sound of sheer pain belonged to me.

I felt its blowing frustrations against my lithe body
And it seem like it was trying to knock me down on the hard ground.
Eventually, I realized that I was badly mistaken.

The powerful energy was embracing my tainted personality,
Giving me the pure comfort that I longed to receive.
This formidable entity was vaingloriously above all
But it crouched down to solace a pathetic being
Slumped deep on the filthy ground.
It horrified everybody
But it exerted an effort to put on its caring facade to console me.

I was nothing compared to it and I am about to prove it.
My weakness was about to show as it pooled beneath my lids.
Never did I try to stop it from rolling down my dull cheeks.
It was a bold statement.
I was not worthy of such greatness, nor will I ever be.

It was your usual way of displaying your immense power.
It was my ignominious way of showing how frail and helpless I am.
I cannot fathom how two different things
Could perfectly blend with each other.
I can never fathom how it was possible
But I will forever be grateful
For such a peculiar yet wonderful event happened.
I slowly lifted my head up with my eyes closed shut
And enjoyed the indescribable feeling
As I got soaked down to the core by its liquefied power.

Suddenly, its lengthy cane reached for the cold ground harshly.
I cannot help but flinch in both surprise and fear.
My eyes darted open in order to see what was bound to come.
The unusual-looking cane met the ground once again
With an indignant hit and it was more brutal compared to the first.

Its cane looked immaculate and divine.
It was eye-blindingly bright and such a beautiful sight.
I realized that it was not just a cane angrily meeting the ground.
They were rays of hope intended only for me.

Time passed ever so slowly,
As I stood alone at its overwhelming presence.
Never was I acquainted to anyone, but in this case, anything like this.
It made me feel important.
It made me realize that I am worthy of being comforted,
Being accepted fully as I am and being loved.

I thought it was everlasting.
I assumed its glorious might was never-ending.
The unimaginable power that it made me feel
Was something I have never acquired before.
Everything seemed real to me.

Now it was fading.

The people are slowly unleashing themselves
From their respective refuges while I still stood there,
Hoping for this force to regain its unfathomable power.

I was being selfish.

I begged for it to stay as it is.
I was about to get down on my bruised knees.

I hungered for the power.
I needed the power.
It was my intangible talisman.

The great force was slowly fading.
I felt a new kind of pain as it gradually departed from me.

I wanted more of the unconditional comfort that it made me feel.
I need more of the unworldly love and care that it wholeheartedly gave me.

My pleading was put to waste.
It started to disappear faster.

I cannot do anything to bring it back.
Now it was gone.

I was completely lost.

I am back to being weak and worthless
But there was an evident change in me.

I have become more pathetic in the eyes of many.

I cannot bear their unfair criticisms and overly biased judgment.

I wanted to dissolve.

On the other hand, moving on seemed accepted by society
As a sophisticated decision in comparison to the other.

I took at step,
Moving myself away at a distance so infinitesimal.

I took another and found a menial amount of strength within me,
Instructing me to continue.

No one seems to notice my horrible state.

That was a good thing.

I continued to walk.
My feet became steadier with each step I took
And I began to cover a longer distance.

As I walked, thoughts began to saunter inside my mind.

I will never forget the magnificent sensation that I felt for a short while.
I have to face the agonizing truth that it was gone.

It was nothing compared to paradise.
It was so much more than words could possibly express.

I felt utter remorse at its departure
But something tells me that it will be back for me.

It will soon come back and we will become one again.






I will be waiting until it rains again.
this has also been posted on my now abandoned livejournal account, almightycatheh.livejournal.com
Emeka Mokeme Nov 2018
Agape unconditional love
leaves world's mouth
agape (wide open).
Love unreservedly
and lavishly with
unrestricted abandon.
Forgive everything
and be free.
Contentment comes
from within the
heart of the freed,
and a soul that
is truly beautiful,
happy and full of grace
with joyful tenderness.
Without striving but
thriving in prosperity,
full of light
and the living ions.
Powered by the
force of the spirit.
Even though surrounded
by numerous tumults,
immense profound peace
engulfed such a one.
The unforgettable and
unusual unspeakable elixir
of life is unleashed
to comfort him.
Delightful with
a grateful heart,
pleasant and pleasing,
so easy to placate.
A comforter full
of wisdom and knowledge.
Versatile and eclectic nature
is abundantly lavished on him.
His presence heals.
Not judgemental but
full of unimaginable
tenderness and understanding.
Such is the way of love.
Agape love.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Jeff Sep 2020
Pain, unimaginable to the innocent mind,
Wracks their bodies at night.
To their suffering, the world is blind.

All of their requests declined,
The guards spit on their humanity with ill disguised spite.
Pain, unimaginable to the innocent mind.

The government tries to keep their voices confined,
As they keep the centers far out of sight.
To their suffering, the world is blind.

Screaming and crying, mothers and children are reassigned
To separate detention centers bathed in harsh light.
Pain, unimaginable to the innocent mind.

Far from the cities, they are trapped behind
Bars of ill disguised jails as they cower in fright.
To their suffering, the world is blind.

Behind their tv screens, the world watches the tragedy unwind,
They watch, sympathizing but not acting on, this violation of rights.
Pain, unimaginable to the innocent mind,
To their suffering, the world is blind.
Bob B Dec 2018
While many people all over the world
Are busily running to and fro
Engaging in cheerful holiday
Festivities, one thing we know:
Children are starving and dying in Yemen.

While Saudi Arabia nonchalantly
Covers up its heinous act
Of butchering a journalist,
We cannot ignore the fact
That children are starving and dying in Yemen.

While Congress fails to intercede
And chooses instead to bicker and quarrel
Over whether America should
Keep supporting a war that's immoral,
Children are starving and dying in Yemen.

While the oppressive Houthi rebels
Backed by Iran dig in their heels
And Saudi Arabia bombs the cities,
Intensifying a clash of ideals,
Children are starving and dying in Yemen.

When ports are blocked and money is scarce,
And fishermen's boats can't leave the shore,
And food and medical equipment
Are cut off in a three-year war,
Children are starving and dying in Yemen.

A 12-year-old girl weighs 28 pounds;
An 8-year-old boy weighs about 30.
Chances are slim that they will survive.
Who dares to say that war isn't *****?
Children are starving and dying in Yemen.

The people caught in the middle are certain
What the fiendish fighting portends:
A huge, unimaginable
Catastrophe unless the war ends,
For children are starving and dying in Yemen.

-by Bob B (12-14-18)
A sense of utter loss within,
ignoring the world outside that of the mind,
Wandering in the paths of insanity
Blasting thoughts, and a rising, formless desire
to be lost in the darkness all around,
yet still sensing the borders
that are immersed in a sludge of sin
All goes on within the invisible world
hidden from any earthly eyes.
Unimaginable to all but one,
yet receiving glimpses of similarity
that strike the uniqueness back from reality.
Giving form to words,
images that could never be painted
but are forgotten instantaneously.
The vastness that might only be
the result of a chemical imbalance.
Such that these words become aimless,
mindless wanderings
devoid of any meaning to the universe.
It is but one fools perspective that
the discourse is one of wisdom,
that it is unique
And yet still, the self-importance clings
and the lines of discernment
become inevitably blurred.
The fabric is torn and marred,
trampled under the hooves of cattle
down below, where the dust is pounded
into miniature swirling clouds,
and the grass roots are torn up
to be left flapping helplessly
in the screaming winds of commotion.
There is a lack of conviction
in every word that is spoken
as if the bubble of thoughts
has become disconnected from the machinery
and floated into boundless space.
Once the fuel has flown,
the unworthy tongue sets in,
drawing from the toxic piles of sundry
that lie skewed asunder
destined to be burned,
though they still exist
to create thick curdling smoke
that chokes out any form of life
and causes the filth of hypocrisy
to flow forth in abundance.
Sinking into the mire,
the narrow way shrinks to the eye of a needle
And all hope seems lost.
This is deprecation.
Alicia Strong Sep 2013
Being suicidal
Is like living in a smothering fog,
But like all fog,
Sometimes it clears.

Being suicidal
Takes away being capable
Of fully appreciating life.
It feeds off your fears.

Being suicidal
Is an unimaginable suffering
That is all too real.
I've been here for years.

But being suicidal
After the fog lifts,
You appreciate the tiniest bits of life
So much, that it brings tears.
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.
Joshua Haines Feb 2016
I am addicted to you.
I am addicted to happiness.
Happiness I find in the taste.
The taste of you.


I am addicted to the sensation of your skin against mine.
The taste of your lips against my lips, constantly linger.
The simplicity of my addiction for this being, is unimaginable.
The simple smell of her perfume, the way she holds herself.


My addiction goes deeper than just physical meanings.
My addiction runs to my soul.
This addiction, which we call love, ether way it's the same way.
Consumes me, It fulfills my deepest desires.


My addiction will be the end of me.
It will suffocate me and drain me, until I am no more.
Sadness and realization go hand in hand, both make you stronger.
My addiction is life, love, happiness, pain, sorrow, and to never leave someone behind, never betray them....
I've gone mad, forever dammed to be alone with this addiction.
Emeka Mokeme Jul 2018
Wonders of the world
is too insignificant to
what you will experience
in your life for opening
your heart to receive the
fairest impressions of God.
You are the best gift life can
ever give to the universe.
Infused in you are the
unimaginable seed of greatness.
You are for signs and wonders.
Created and endowed with
enormous and immense abilities
to subdued and have dominion
over all things created.
Your words and thoughts can change
situations and make things manifests
from something for nothing cannot
give rise to something.
Thoughts are definitely something,
and your words are powerfully alive,
you only need to properly project it
into being to give it form and bring
it into your reality.
All things resonates to you,
whether positively or negatively,
depending on the platform you stand.
Everything responds to the octaves
of your vibration within the wavelength
of the rhythm of the pendulum swinging
circumspectively overly around you.
You can do anything you want to do
if you really want to do it.
But you have to learn how to do it differently,
because you are definitely differently configured.
You are an absolute dot stretched into being,
vitalised by the power beyond the ordinary
and full of grace of the divine light.
You are the light of the world.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Nat Lipstadt May 2013
The Numerical Quality of Friendship

The quality of friendship is non-quantitative.
Yet, I ask you to number me this way.

With tape measure, determine that:
The length of my arm's embrace will always be
longer than long enough, and when distance magnifies sorrow's gains,
my shoulders measure wide enough to pillow your wearied head.

The depth of my pocket is finite for by definition,
a pocket is but an open doored, three walled shelter.
My pocket of shelter is forever open, forever deep,
and forever is infinite.

Trust that when bowed and bent,
upon my shoulders climb and together we will be tall enough
to touch the season's new fruit upon the tree of life,
and with one tongue taste the unimaginable!

Do u think that mercury can measure
the warmth of my tears when love sears my heart,
or the heat of thy skin when it heals and cauterizes
wounds salted by the mistreatment, by the bitters of the weak ones,
who rejoice when they scald others?

Size me up.
What is my volume?
What are the boundaries that
length X depth X height
state must limit my capacity to cherish, to heal,
and even to forgive those who deserve no forgiveness?

If you measure me well and proper,
if I meet the standards that qualify me to be called friend,
then friend me here, friend me now,
friend me for the qualities I posses,
and number us a unity among the few
who are truly blessed
by a quality of friendship that cannot be measured,
for there is no scientific instrument that can quantify,
limitless.



March 2012
Amelia Jun 2017
Chances-

I think of chances like little rain drops-

The moment you let go of a chance and let it slip away, is like the moment when you do not manage to catch the rain drop and it falls onto the ground-

Chances came by so frequently yet either we overlook it or we let it fall through our own hands-

Chances could fall right onto our laps and we choose to ignore it-

Chances could appear out of nowhere and it's always you to decide to use it or not-

Maybe that is why I am indecisive... chances are precious and I never want to pick the wrong one-

Chances open up new pathways to unimaginable experiences and teach you lessons and make you learn and feel so much-

Chances are like rain drops, they fall past you without you noticing sometimes and you lose them, just like that-

Chances and opportunities are so common yet we so often either overlook it, do not see it or won't use it-

Why won't you take that chance and just do it?
Ryan Unger Jun 2015
“What’s the meaning of life?” Is a question we ask,
But finding the answer is no simple task.
Everyone’s here for a reason on our great Mother Earth,
Until the day they die and from the moment of birth.

This is the story of a journey I took,
That forever changed for me how the universe looked.
My entire concept of this physical world,
Was shattered while I saw infinity unfurled.

It all starts with the chemical known as DMT,
I had heard rumors that it could set your soul free.
Needless to say it had my intrigue,
I’d tried LSD and Psilocybin, but this was in a different league.

I did some research and learned that you can smoke it,
That apparently was the easiest way to invoke it.
By chance DMT had found me a few weeks later,
And left a huge dent in my soul like a crater.

I had a glass pipe and the DMT at hand,
It was a fine beige powder that resembled coarse sand.
I packed the pipe full and took a big hit,
Held it in tight and leaned back to sit.

The first thing I noticed was the room got real blurry,
And everything started to fade black in a hurry.
Anxiety kicked in, and my nerves were full blast,
I had no idea how long this feeling would last.

I closed my eyes, and stared into a dazzling black,
And I had the sensation of someone standing behind my back.
I suddenly felt a calm like I’d never thought life could bring,
And whispered from behind were three words: “This, is everything…”

At the exact second the words had finished being spoken,
The universe crumbled and reality was broken.
My soul left my body and was catapulted above,
To a place that transcends time, and inundated with love.

I soared through a tornado made of vibrantly stained glass,
The pure energy was overwhelming and moved through me quite fast.
I traveled into infinity through all its patterned veils,
A kaleidoscopic carnival full of intergalactic trails.

Glorious music engulfed me dressed as ornately woven ribbons,
It’s the most profound experience that I had ever been given.

Helping guide my journey were omniscient entities of light,
Who led me through this astounding matrix of delight!
Their intense embrace of loving energy I can’t begin to explain,
It’s a place that entirely dissolved away all sadness or pain.

There’s no linearity of time, nor concept of “self,”
Earth was temporarily placed on hold up high on a shelf.
I inhabited the deepest recesses of my brain,
I experienced my sub consciousness on a multi-dimensional plane.

I surpassed a wall of brilliantly interwoven neon tape,
And entered a cathedral expanse divinely infinite in scape.
The Godhead of eternity was the place that I was in,
A realm of unimaginable light and power where our souls begin.

To me, this was absolute proof there’s a world beyond ours,
Way outside our galaxy, and light-years beyond the stars.

After my journey, my life was a new leaf that had turned,
I spent weeks thinking about all the things I had learned.
My new knowledge of existence was the only thing that mattered,
When the world was reassembled after my ego was shattered.

Now I no longer fear death, even if I try,
For I know deep in my heart that our spirits never die.
Yes, we’ll shed this mortal coil in which we all reside,
But our soul’s energy will live forever on life’s epic ride.
Why did nobody say it would be this hard?
Why did I let you play this card?

How do I stop the knife digging deep?
Why is the nightmare not only in my sleep?

If my heart could only stop beating for one,
perhaps I would not feel like my journey was done.

You're better off apart they told me too,
but all I can think is that I love you.
Thou said I'd killed thee-then haunt me! The murdered do look for their murderers. Do find me, capture me, and seize me-until I am no more! Until all t'ose resentments are conquered; and th' due satisfaction is approached! How I am but ready for 'tis-for I now can see even t'ose roaring flames in thy *****-thy lifeless, inanimate *****-o, thy ghost! My poor-dreary love! But why doth thou hath just to release it right now? Thou wert no more than a vapour. A silence! An undreamed thought-yes, despite how I sobbed over thy ignorance, thy blandness towards me! I who was unjustly a piece of willful visage in thy mind-a fracture on th' soil thou mercilessly cracked-a wailing fragment, unheard by t'ose passers-by, unrecognised by th' wind! Terrified in t' steepness I could look around-but insignificant as I was, I hath no right to claim any attention-I was by birth a stone to t'ose young buds-leaning against their flower mothers so tightly, so scared and petrified were their looks-upon my gently-but alarming, steps! How I was a crust to warmth, unbinding and unyielding in every step, glowered at by t'ose thirsty stems-and their green abodes! How crushed I was by my own nature-and to my despondency, by my own fiery passion! Thou wert so distant to me-thou wert a prince from a faraway castle-unreachable to my loveless realm-I could only, in t'ose wakeful jests-dream of thee! T'ose solitary walks we took, as part of our serene perambulations, but in every retrospect, also part of my wildest dreams! At those silent, barbaric hours! And how I regretted when which wert admonished! How my waves of anger would be roused against me-and my lilac-scented pillow-I wanted, in those wraths-grasped my little gun-t'at very kind, and sometimes sweaty-lil' gun, with t'ose uncomprehending steel layers, and strangle th' neck of each of th' intruder: I was glowing with fury! Insidious and pernicious my soul was-but inevitable as to the love I nurtured. The love that would be adequate to me, and its loss hath left me in 'tis shameful, disgraceful, and unpardonable lifelong longing, and incarceration. How isolated I hath been now-for t'ose unimaginable y'rs-how unfair! Resentful ist my heart-grudge is th' only will it can beareth! O my lost love! My prince! My young, mirthful treasure! But I recall how solemn thou wert to me-and cold-tempered in thy redolent sophistication-thou neglected me! Thou killed the flame that had been lighting up my mindth-thou wert the one who fled from me! Aye! Thou wert the one who relented-who adversely tore t'ose flo'ers of my heart; thy quietness sent them into a hurried, mysterious death! Like an earthquake flitting apart th' moons at a blissful night-and enduing th' soil with bursts of cold horror-thou passivity in t'ose very moments-wert but tragic yet unmistakably obscure! O my soul that was ripped apart-just as thine! How dead we became-and still, areth now-how inanimate! Of bliss have our languid joys have been deprived, its remains doth we have no more-no, in our but only dying embers. And how their momentary torch mocks us! How bashful, and unlovable! O but my love is torn. Wholly torn. As how a pool of blood is th' produce of a sword of honour-that is how it is now-and was it swerved astray from its cherry, back then-its very own romance-which hath been so full of ****** youth, to taste agony! Agony as it was-but th' only reward to my suffered love, when I could feed on thy sight no more-thy movements were a nameless leave-threatened by the glaring autumn, and killed by th' ragged winter-my holy love was slaughtered! Now that thou hath known how dead I am-and my feelings are, how I am unseen by most of yon ingress and egress of t' others-t'ose vile, and reprehensive b'ings-with t'ose unthoughtful, and abhorred shortcomings-pallidness and sickly merriment in t'ose eyes-o, what falsehood, what falsehood! I despise th' sight o' 'em-daemons they are, hellish are their souls! **** me, my darling, slander me now, and bring me back into thy world! For th' world I belong to is th' one with thee, my dearest-I do not mind being a ghost, and am unafraid of its vagueness-I'm not! And together shall we traverse th' earth-enjoy but only our keenly desired brambles-t'ose ones we could not partake of, as healthy refreshments to our souls-in t'ose sickly, tumultuous lifetimes-t'ose brazen years! I am thus indebted to thee-t'ese guilt and pleasure, as both thy own'th remorse and treasure-I declare as thine, only thine! Be with me always, since we'll occupy ourselves together-and taking any form, we'll drive each other mad by our passioneth-and grasp all 'ose happiness we've always wanly desired! Love me back, o love me back, my prince! Only don't leave me alone in 'tis abyss, where I cannot find thee...'
Corset Jun 2015
Animal House

Sweeping dust
storm,
Gazelles leap.

Careening reach,
dizzy heights
Shy Giraffes
necking in
undergrowth.

Creeping tide
menageries
mystic sloths
limb and oath.

Sea mist
breaking wave
Sun prancing
Dolphins
embraceable
moonbeams.

Lizards
shedding skins.
Trine children,
Pan animals.

Golden gleaming
processions
growling purrs
Carnivores
give
Herbivores
last rites
confessions.

We are
the animal house
the  hourglass
menageries.

bleating hearts
imminent deaths,
fleeting breaths,
unimaginable
love.
Realeboga M Aug 2015
Unknown.
Unspecified.‎

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the moment you've all been waiting for on the left we have The undisputed, most lyrical sensation in the world, Prodigy", The speaker announced.

"And on the right we have, the growing, unknown, unspecified the last Bounty Hunter, when she slays she slays", The speaker shouts.

PRODIGY 
Moving with the flow of beats, I serenade my thoughts with new symphonies.
New melodies, thoughts cascading through creating a lyrical abstract.

Now let my words infuse into you and misuse 
Your subliminal thoughts. 
Let me tell you the tale of a lost soul found by the soulless. 

It wasn't a nice summers day.
It wasn't a blistering cold morning.
There was no pain involved whatsoever.
The lost soul feels nothing but moves with the flow of the wind, whichever movement taken it will be accepted. 
The soulless saved me, from a whirlpool of lost and unknown souls they saved me and put me in a situation where feelings were unrequited, unnecessary, sociopath tendencies rolling in,
They saved me. 
Showed me the light of darkness but took me out the darker abyss.
And no amount of gratitude can show that when there's no existing feelings in the first place.
They turned me into a prodigious phenomenal.
Told me my words could get me anywhere.
Ladies and Gentlemen I am Prodigy
A legend amongst the dead, the living, the unknown, the unimaginable.

THE LAST BOUNTY HUNTER

I move with sensational beats,
Stomping to the floor getting down and *****.
Thanking the legends for showing me the streets,
The actual hustle the struggle the flow of the people.
I am the last bounty hunter.
The last of my people, the fighter.
I am like the Ruger No. 1 Varminter K1-V-BBZ one shot and you're out.

"Alright ladies and Gentlemen we got our introduction now it's time for the main attraction. The main topics, we will start of with Prodigy, your topic is Blissful pain".

PRODIGY 

Blissful pain.
Breathe and forget the strain.
Pop pills later and let them invade your veins.

It's Blissful pain.
Bloodshot eyes.
Shaky hands.
Woozy thoughts.

I drowned so much to forget you.
Swimming in liquor,
Taking strange detours.
Hoping to forget you.

It's blissful pain.
The drugs and alcohol make me forget you, make me smile, makes me laugh and free spirited.
The after effects hurt.
Rusty hangovers, forgotten nights and swarming thoughts of what we used to be.
Blissful pain.
Bitter sweet moments.
I miss you...

"Woah okay now it's The Last Bounty Hunter, your topic is Green hills"

THE LAST BOUNTY HUNTER 

Green hills.

"Save me", she whispered.

I watched her at the top of the hill.
Tears running down her face, posture all down,
Her self esteem gone, her entire demeanour broken into tiny little pieces of non existence.

"It hurts", she whimpered.

The green hills holding her in place,
Making her look down on what's meant to be her doom but is rather her freedom.
The dark green trees hold on to her praying she doesn't fall.

"Don't", my hand reaches out to her.
She jumps, falling down, the Green trees try to save her from falling each trying to catch her.

"I'm sorry", I close my eyes as I watch the green Hill devour her.

"Alright Ladies and Gentlemen the next match will be based on a specific topic and that topic is Hunted"

THE LAST BOUNTY HUNTER.

The days are the days of the years of the ages of our dreams.
Realising we aren't what we truly thought we are.
Focusing on dreams of being the hunter yet we are the hunted.

Maybe I don't understand, maybe he doesn't know and maybe she does.

We search seeking for answers, never really finding them but end up digging more in a pit of unanswered questions.

We toggle philosophy, entering the metaphysical ending up with the epistemological.
We complicate the simple, fighting complexity with simplicity.

Hunting.
I lay down looking through my lenses,
Searching for a loophole, a spot, to pounce on my prey.
Because let's be honest.
Our greatest ability is to find the weak spot of the toughest strongest.

Patiently waiting for you to mess up.
I know you know I'm watching.
I can see your insecurities dancing in,
Waltzing, doing oh so melodious moves.
I see them in harmony, in synchronisation with my plan.

You're scared. 
Not ready to fall so I leave.
Giving you a peace of mind till you relax, till you're ready. 
One two three, shots fired.
You've been hunted.

PRODIGY

I've never been one for words.
Never one for feelings and emotions.
I've just been one to move with the motion.

So when she stopped me I was lost, confused.
She put her hand across my cheek
Cheek burning, the sound deafening.

"Why", her voice cracked.
Her bloodshot eyes caught mine. 
Searching for answers praying that I would show her the light. 
That she might be the one I would truly fight for.

With confusion flowing through my mind I turned and walked away.
"I'm not that type of guy", I sighed.
"I can never be that guy". I left

He looked at me as if I was crazy.
"Even the wildest animals out there have feelings compared to you", He laughed.
"You're like a hunter, you **** and you get a thrill put of it and you don't put emotions in it", He spat.
"What the **** is wrong with you", He shouted.

I stared at him. 
Not enough running through my head.
I cooked my head and started laughing.
"Everyone is ****** up" I paused.
Took a deep breath and walked away.

"Well then the final piece is a freestyle feel free to do what you want", the announcer spoke.

LAST BOUNTY HUNTER

For years and centuries I've been a dreamer.
Praying to the gods hoping to become a great believer.
Trying to find the light so that I can become a controversial writer.

I had my heart caged on rage.
My soul flipped and sold for truth.
Hoping to find my true self.

I am the last of the legends.
A writer amongst the lyricist.

I've seen souls sold to the devil for the oblivious life.
Had dreams broken for the delirious minds.

My granddad told me I could be a hero someday.
That I could find wisdom by my writing. 

I looked at him and asked him if I can do it.
He told me "Son you are a Bounty Hunter you can do anything"

My words are my weapons.
This pen is my rifle.
This paper is my ammunition.
This life is my redemption.
Each story is an unravelling revelation.

"Alright ladies and Gentlemen next we have, Prodigy"

PRODIGY.

Alright this is a story of my father and I.
We were somewhat tight, close.
Regardless of my condition I felt something with my father, respect.
I looked up to him.

One day stating at the blue sky, watching the grey clouds, I asked "Dad?"
"Yea son?", He looked at me.
I took a deep breath, watching the sun get overwhelmed by the clouds, the blue sky getting darker. 
"Do you think I'll ever be normal?", I looked at him nonchalantly. 
"I don't know kid", He sighed.
"Does it bother mum that I'm not like the others?" I asked barely above a whisper.
He looked at me, His green eyes overwhelming me with answers, the got teary and at that point I knew the answer.
Reading his sudden dropped posture,
His sudden fidgeting of hands.
Trying to find his words, I raised my hand
"It's okay, I understand", I stood up dusted myself off and walked away.

"Alright that was deep" The announcer mentioned.
"Ladies and Gentlemen who is your winner?"
Meh, I was just trying out something, alter ego things
Afrodita Nestor Oct 2014
Nearly impossible and
still here we are You and Me
because the impossible
is in our genes
You put the unreachable
at my reach and
make the unimaginable
just a simple effort

With just a word You tame my troubles
Your funny wit makes
the bad thoughts disappear
Your silly ideas put a smile on my face
And when I feel lost
You are always there
to show me the right direction

Nearly impossible and
still here we are You and Me
because the impossible
is in our genes
Don’t You ever forget this fact
You are the miracle that
gives my heart the perfect tact
Scientists estimate the probability of one being born at about one in 400 trillion and the probability of the combination of two persons being born as siblings is even smaller... To my sister.. my miracle!

Copyright Afrodita Nestor

— The End —