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He woke this morning
Another night of her dreams

He glanced into the mirror
She’s not real it seems

Society unknowingly accepts
The image presented
Unaware of the damage
Being self-inflicted

He hides her for fear of rejection
She battles for her reflection.
______

Michelle Renee Milford
Nov. 2014
I was blessed to have this poem chosen by T.E.N.T. (Transgender Education Network Texas) for the Austin, Texas 2014 Transgender Day of Remembrance ceremony at City Hall. :) :) :)
ryn Mar 2015
Blue is the boulder overlooking the bay
Loosely pocked by weather-worn stains
Unwavering guardian of all that lay
Enigmatic yet silently screaming its pains

Blue is the reflection dancing playfully
Laid generously by the twilight moon
Upon the vast canvas of the darkened sea
Elated ripples readily accepting such a boon

Blue is the halo encircling the moon
Lavish circlet gifted by the sun
Unnoticed by eyes that slumbered too soon
Evading the sands of time that run

Blue is the silhouette of a lone sailboat
Lurching and bobbing by will of the waves
Unknowingly catching the zephyrs that float
Eluding the fingers from watery graves

Blue is the man; perched upon the boulder
Lapping up the stars mirrored upon the sea
Usurped heart of his had never sung drearier
Ensnared by woeful wonderment...
                                           *
*that man is me...
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
Thoughts tempered with the fires of life,
dreams of youth vanquished, replaced by reality.
Happily ever after endings, an illusion we’ve been nursed on,
lives spent weaning ourselves away.

New paths uncharted and unfamiliar,
fear and doubt direct our moves, beyond world’s end.
Holding on to what we know, sacrificing what could be,
unknowingly binding ourselves to our past.

Can I find the clue to guide my way,
someone to lead me forward to my future?  
Let me feel renewed and alive,
so I search beyond my limits for my life in you.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
Lizzy Mar 2015
What are you still doing here?
I told you to go.
I told you I can't come back home.
But you're still here,
In my bones.
In every atom.
When I said I was addicted,
I meant I was enslaved.
I meant to say I was yours,
You took me captive unknowingly.
And now I can't let it fade,
The comfort of your embrace.
It held me with you,
It captured me willingly.
And I belong to you,
And I always will.
Nadia May 27
The Bride Test by Helen Hoang

If tomorrow is a big day with many things to do, here is your warning:
Read this book before bed and you’ll be reading it well into the morning

Esme, or My, is kind and clever, endlessly loyal and terrible at deceit
Khai is a complicated genius, steadfast and achingly, unknowingly sweet

Esme is determined to find a better life for the family she temporarily left behind
Khai is earning future freedom from set ups his mom can’t help but mastermind

A few scenes might make you blush - brilliant and perfect for this story
Bring lots of tissues, no reading on transit - this book is an absolute glory
I never remember to review books before all of the details are long forgotten (sadly it does not take long) so I'm making an effort. Bonus, it's more fun to review with a poem
winter sakuras Aug 2018
Sometimes I get this sensation
as I take my bare feet
and place them
into tight enclosed shoes
to walk a cold grey
concrete path
still rigid to the shards of
   broken dreams
and promises
scattered along the middle,
the sounds of other people's footsteps
drown out my insecurities
and the
insignificance of
a person who feels small
as I try to grasp at merging
into the person full of
light and meaning
who has a spark in her eye,
     destined to do and make great changes
instead of falling into her own world
of isolation and despair
glancing around myself, wondering whether or not
I actually belong
I don't see my name on the board
with my peers
standing in the crowd,
waiting for the crosslight
to let me walk
walk with them to the other side, but
somewhere along the way
do I get lost
or am I just destined to walk
the wrong path
just so I could be with my peers
who are, of course,
the future
who will change the world
who will introduce a revelation that will change
the biased courses of humanity

but as for me

the deafening screams and words of
other people's
lives, moments, recollections
and livelihoods
cover up my hushed pathetic cries
and calls for help
as I question all that is taking place
in every which way I look
somewhere out there
a mom and her growing daughter
become closer
as my own mom falls apart on me
unknowingly ripping apart my right to establish
an identity of my own
somewhere out there
a dad can tell his children
about his life experiences
of the virtues and humility within that led to
their blessed ways of life now
as my own dad
who deserves, at least
everything the world has to give
works harder and harder every day
and every second
to continue our "blessed" ways of life now

but despite all of that

I am told No-- just focus on yourself
make sure you don't miss the crosswalk
make sure you make us proud--
but they don't see
they are what matters
when it comes to
a kid hoping to grow into a better person

there are colors;

some old and chipped
and falling apart,
on the frames of people's
subconscious
while fresh new colors shimmer
in the evening
starlight atop blue waters
just waiting to be discovered, like a
blind person experiencing sight for the first time

but how can I see the night stars
and fall in love with
the moon's beauty
when I'm too busy staring
at the sun
trying to make my way
up to the very top
running, taking jagged steps,
bent over all broken and
crawling

just hoping to be remembered

as a great sign of the times.
08/28/18

I'd be grateful if people lended me some warm words of kindness. I don't get enough to sustain me these days.
Mike Nov 2018
Fireplace firefly, did you come to check up on me.
Do you visit every hearth, is that your assigned duty.
Answering the hearts of those who unknowingly call.
Reminding us that if we can't see beauty in nature,
We won't know beauty at all.

When you return home after the passing of the crescent moon,
Who sees in your eyes all that you've been through.
And comforts you when your tears turn a blue hue.

Maybe you don't feel in the way that we do.
But I'd like to believe after all the light you give, you'd receive it too.
A love from a special someone you know to be true.
Your very own fireplace, who wilfully takes any burden from you.
karin naude Mar 2014
finally i have found what i have lost some three plus years back that indestructible bold unpolished teenage spirit that experienced knew things every single day unknowingly challenging the envelope, and it never broke, but molded and bended to all the magic my mind could conjure up. i stood on the cuff of my future and leaped forward not seeing the staircase but through faith and i flew. i made the mistake of coming down because i missed the misinterpreted notion of belonging to a pride. see when an eagle is raised by ground based eagles who believe themselves to be chickens its difficult to comprehend the new found freedom of the sky it is over whelming and i gave it up, unknowingly.
ever since, i could feel the gnawing emptiness in my soul. the wild wanting to fly and never feel the  conforms of society again. i have been busy with chicken for too long. selling my gracefulness on the cheap.
igc May 2015
Tell me about her
    
                                                        ­                                                   Who?

You know   Her
    
The one that makes you smile even
when no one's looking
The one that's captured you so entirely
everyone else has disappeared
The one who's unknowingly replaced me

                                                             ­                               I'm not sure what
                                                                ­                            you're talking about

Please
Tell me something about   Her

                                                            ­                                                What?

I just wanna know

About the one who helps you sleep
at night
The one who must be tired from constantly
running through your dreams
The one you chose to replace me

                                                             ­                               Please
                                                                ­                            I have no idea who
                                                            ­                                you're talking about

Never mind

                                                           ­                                                Why?

You don't have to tell me about her

About the one whose smile has replaced
your sun
About the one who you'd give your last
breath to
About the girl who isn't me

                                                             ­                                            I'm sorry.

Don't be
Sam Bowden Dec 2018
Shucking oysters is a dangerous task.
Only skilled, determined hands may apply.
Why so dangerous a task you ask?
Well, let’s see?
There’s the salt, the grit, the unforgiving need...
the slips, the stabs, the you and the me.
Our boats rock along a forlorn sea.

Sitting on the dock of my mind,
the sun's rays slap me sober,
as it refuses to set for seven hundred thousand nights...

Patiently present in the moment, I am, totally attuned to the task at hand.

She's anything but simple,
this complexly succulent woman I've stumbled upon,
Unearthed I have, with my bare hands.
Rugged exterior, jagged edges,
a clear warning for all to see.
But a gorgeous glory awaits the determined, the brave, the patient,
I have faith...

I have faith in such a glory beyond legend,
in such beauty beyond reason.
Just because something feels like a miracle,
doesn’t mean it’s impossible.
For if jade kissed a pearl as it slipped into the sea,
it still wouldn't rival her beauty.

We are a meeting of minds that could unfurl for all time.
As she lines her eyes in paint,
and stains her lips like crimson art.
She's always ready for war,
launching a thousand ships in my heart.

Like the Greek Odysseus,
I've sailed upon contentment's shore,
sipping your wine and eating your grapes,
now I only want more.
Eros, the bittersweetness, is clawing at my door.
I want to live with you in the gap,
between consumption and desire,
between winter's ice and between summer's fire.

Unknowingly I have,
peeled the wall paper from her frame,
where ancient tapestries shown from beneath,
a secret no man could keep.
The scars cut deep into the fabric,
marks of carelessness in love.
The family ties that tear,
the tears of lovers once here,
now there.

Warmth gives way to wind,
and fire gives way to need.
She pulls me close,
then pushes me back,
rocking along a forlorn sea.

And like the sea,
she breathes life into me.
A great roiling tempest of the heart,
with a fury that blows reason from the mind.

Tame, tame, squeeze...    l e t   g o.
Give it...       t i m e.

Still though,
questions fray at the edges of her mind,
and yet,
with the passage of time,
the sea will settle,
the tide will recede.
I have faith in love.
And faith in me.   

Sure footed I am, even as we,
not yet a "we",
dodging rain drops,
dashing through the city,
hand-in-hand, we don't slip.
I think thoughts, but bite my lip.

And while I sip, I think;
“She's anything but simple,
this dandelion seed,
floating in the wind.
Walls up, head down,
a determined doctor,
a surgeon steeled for the journey,
thawing beneath me she is...”

“The most beautiful immigrant I've ever seen;
On the platform of her mind,
she longs for a home, leagues from her homeland,
while I scratch at the dirt of my own.
Do I belong here?
Does she? Do we?
Where is home? Security? Acceptance? Belonging?
Who knows what the futures holds?
Allahu alam, not you or me.”

Uncertain of answers,
is this a mirage or a dream?
I can’t know for sure,
So I take heart in the Unseen.

I crack the oyster open,
and swallow it inside.
I sip life's ambrosia,
and breathe in the sky.

I'll crack The Pearl of Persia,
one kiss at a time.
An ode to patience in love.
Harley Oliver Jul 2014
you were suppose to be a stranger,
just a half second interferer
mindless and dry
with each blinking moment
that passed me by
i was unknowingly losing a useful hand
deemed worthy of something other
than the thought that
you were suppose to stay just a stranger
and if i could turn you back, i swear i would
but it feels like i've always wanted you
from the unspoken second
i felt our destiny
when our eyes crossed path
in the midst of fall, telling you to
please slip away and take my unreasoning desire, i'm not use to never having what i want
November 2, 2013
Patrick Jul 2018
I hear a knock upon my door. Or was it there inside my head, where only ever dread for the things in life I can't obtain remains; No matter how hard I may in one form or another train?

And so I'll sell a piece of my soul yet again; My price of admission to taste love's glory for but a momentary grin.

With you it was so much different.
My heart is still broke, but my real loss is more than conviction.
I lost my heart, my soul, my vision.
A future bleaker than a demonic prediction.

My mind is racing as I try to relax but thoughts of you come rushing back.

I try to close my eyes to snore but there's always a monster lurking behind memory's door.

And as I recalled I saw my cursed fate,
Always here to be here but never to stay.
I'm airport luggage thrown and lost,
Maybe sought another day.
But I'll still love you through any amount of pain.

I've loved before you but never loved in this way: So full of passion and love for who we both are and could be. I'd marry you now and yet I've never stopped you to say that you're such an invaluable friend, and I'm sorry I can't be okay and pretend that he's not the pefect man to heal your heart and share your pain.

I hate that I'm not only jealous but hurt when I shouldn't feel so deeply burnt by the girl that stole my heart; She's so far beyond my worth.

But she came at night and without a knife she took my heart off it's throne in life, and put it kneeling like she had the key. As if some Divine being that, before we had even met, had my heart beat.

Your love for him is clear even from afar,
And so my heart will beat forever subpar.

So confusing are you truly to me.
The one thing I know is you are the one to whom my soul and heart chose to leave me to be. 

Maybe heartless and soul-less should go hand in hand? Ripped from the body by something far greater than man. 
Something unknowingly more than human, yet divined by human hands.

Ill be content that while I'm still so broke, She can be healed and her love will help her float: And she can finally forgive herself for the wrongs He wrote.

She'll shoulder the pain and strife of life, 
With love beside her every night.
I can be okay but never better,
So I write to myself and you all this letter.

I'm high as a kite,
And just as exposed,
I will never not hear the call of my soul.

Depart away so you can hate me,
And close the chapter of my life called meaning.
I want only for you to be whole.
Regardless of cost, repercussion or role.

My love for you will live until dawn rises untouched by Earth's rock.

Yet ever haunting as a ghost who only ever knocks.
Marshal Gebbie Aug 2018
Calamitous collapse of structure forged
With steel and concrete built for time,
Since Roman times a formula endured
With engineers additional design.
Why, then, did this structure fail,
Did mortar crack, did reinforcing strong,
Shear and plummet in an instants time
To crush and doom this bridges song.

In teeming rain a  silence hung
Where watchers gaped in stunned awe,
A magnitude of devastation lay
Pulverized in valley floor.
Astonishing this expanse of space
Where seconds past, huge edifice,
Imbued with its’ charge of lives
Unknowingly to meet abyss.

Innocence has lost its’ life
Blame resounds around the room
Someone shall pay the price
For negligence in causing doom.
Truth be told it’s shared by all
For Italy has lagged behind
Cost cutting infrastructures’ purse
Because of economic bind.

Time to reassess the plan
Time to weep and bury dead,
Clear the rubble from the land
Rebuild well then forge ahead.
Blame not the engineer
Nor the man who drew design,
Blame not the hardhat
Who poured the concrete in the line.

Reassign the budget spend
To infrastructure, pay its share
For sentiment is running hot
To axe the fool who pares the fare.

M.
Storeman
Civil Infrastructure
Hamilton, NEW ZEALAND
This calamity is already impacting on construction projects and future design , cost and planning, worldwide. Risk is, very much, a major perilous factor in bidding and negotiation in the relationship between an infrastructure provider and buyer.
Kenji Nov 2018
It fathoms inside of me, the person I was, the person who I became, and the person I am becoming.
The epitome enforces loss of control, loss of desire, and loss of my true self.
Naturally, conflicting, always switching these dominant sides of me.
I lose it, in all focus of who I am, I deceive.
Unknowingly, playing different characters to clarify my true self, when it's all just lies, a game, a mental mind ****.
I deceive.
WHO AM I?
WHO ARE YOU?
WHAT ARE YOU TO BECOME?
Questions I ask myself everyday hoping the answer will just flow, it doesn't, I just switch.
A confliction of pain, loss, hurt, betrayal, emotion, sin.
I lose myself.
I never stay.
I never stay.
But they don't too.
Alone, lonely...
Waiting to be loved truly of the emotion and depth I desire.
Born to love deeply, and to be loved intimately, spiritually.
I suffer in my own self.
I torture myself to these standards of perfection I don't even have.
I **** myself everyday, knowing that it's eternal, it will never end.
MISUNDERSTOOD...
HATED...
Not worthy of the love that I deserve.
In a cycle that scars my unhealing pain.
I cry, I cry everyday.
No one to talk to, no one who wants to be there, no one who truly understands what it's like to be me, and nobody who wants to.
Yet, loving so deeply is a curse, sacrificing your own soul for others but ******* yourself over in the end.
It's never gonna end.
NEVER
So I die, losing myself between all my personalities.
Character deformations and a mind of a computer system that is constantly processing and rearranging, my thoughts never shut out.
Deranged, I scream and ache in pain.
I hide, because living a lie for so long has turned me into something I'm not.
The voices, they won't stop.
The people inside of me, they will never leave.
The thoughts I have within have consumed me, and there's no escaping it.
So, I deceive, hoping one day, it will all end.
Knowing, that life isn't a curse, but me.
The naturally deceiving nature of my soul.
Moon In Pisces
Gemini Ascendant
Black moon in Gemini
My thoughts, exposed.
With every word, a story unfolds
Born, loved, and cared for, with a future and growth
Only to scamper from what you fear the most
Exposed as a fraud that you clench to and hold
Be it bold, be it brave, be it unknowingly close
Theron lyes the problem that’s written in stone.
ryn Oct 2014
She comes to me every night...
When all is asleep with stars lit yonder.
Comes to me with subtle might
Peeking fiendishly from darkness's cover

Await such time she'd choose to show
Await the chance to finally take.
Ready to pounce like a well tensioned bow
Arrow-like talons, ever honed to stake.

Awake or asleep, she would come without fail.
Creep is her gait; this shadow clad figure.
Always a ***** in my impervious mail.
Claiming her wants with ferocious fervour.

Deemed to be strong, easier to succumb.
Don't fight...don't struggle... Don't call for aid...
Just wait and will yourself numb
She'd come regardless of prayers that's said.

She was here with me last night
In bed, I stared at a being that's faceless...
And my heart wrenched tight.
Gripping and feeding me senseless...

Soon as she came, she left but not before
Siphoning the good and replacing with dread...
Stole was what she did; left me wanting more...
Once deed is done, into the dark she fled.

I know her all too well,
Nocturnal guest that I unknowingly invite
Her intentions to incite, not quell
Send me spiralling through emotional blight.

Day will recede, making room for dark
She'll come; swift and without sound.
She'll arrive majestic; inflicting her mark
I'll wait for her, ready and unbound.

Looking forward to her return
This silent foe whom I find familiar.
With every touch I cringe and burn
Oh secret friend whom I'm beginning to savour...

She is synonymous with various names
Each would bear the likeness of semblance
Let fly her cloak of not dissimilar aims
Endearingly I call her...,

Despondence...
karin naude Jun 2014
With every I love you
Your heart whispered soft promises
Respect, love, protection, friendship and commitment
Why am I collecting the pieces of my heart
So many little pieces
Some so small, lost forever
My saving grace, thought answered prayers
Tested it by faith so many times
So afraid to love
Needed to be sure
Oh God did the devil fool me
Did I unknowingly trust him
My saving grace
The devil with scorched wings and stolen halo
Once me
Me broken and discarded
Worth no more than dirt

This broken love denied house
Still stands
Enduring raging storms and maddening madness called life
Ashley Chapman Sep 2018
Past our past,
Yours and mine,
My soul yearns,
As I walk by silver clad trees; 
A favourite parked orange vintage Saab;
And memories newly raw, too.


I

Then quite extraordinarily,
The Cosmic Whale,
Stirs in my solar-plexus,
And my objectivity dissolves,
As conscious consciously hears:
The song of my inner Gypsy,
And look!
My Narwhal,
Up among the stars,
Beyond days and nights,
Roaming free,
Scything milky ways in half,
Fireballs disrupting,
In infinite timelessness,
Beyond the pull of gravity,
Where no vortex holds:
The 'othering' whirlpool,
That keeps us compressed
- as a collapsed star -
Gone!
At last my Cosmic Leviathan blows
- ALL is released and falls away.

II

Such is my Cosmic Behemoth:
The funnel *****
And inside out,
Is turned.
As at last on course;
Whoo! Whoo! Whoo?
But no-one replies!
The navigation station is empty:
This is motion without traction,
And no acceleration,
Slipping atoms would only slow!
The flow,
No windows either on the view,
As even visual truths are but fleeting,
And words muddy the clear unconscious streaming,
As the journey beyond mind begins.

III

The worldly maze recedes,
A bird's-eye vision steers the empty ship;
No harbours are plotted,
From here on
- endless flight in night,
Without end,
Wings blaze occasionally nearby,
A host of fireflies pattern the cosmic pool,
A whole immensity in which to dance.
Space,
Growing,
Stretching,
Expanding outward,
Not as we would have it, but as it is beyond our eyes.
Where space is born,
Again and again,
And so!
Exults in nothing,
A self beyond understanding,
In silence thrives,
Where sense logic makes no waves.

IV

The Cosmic Whale is off,
All attachments gone,
Like a flake of skin,
A fold in time -
Falls off.
The anchor dropped,
Is not retrieved,
What use is I -
When the clock's monotony no longer counts!

V

The surface disappears,
The ocean depth submerges,
In the cabin
The lights are dimmed to monochrome,
As navigators know,
Blind sees the furthest.
Charts are soon forgotten,
The imagination leads:
Ueah, the Cosmic Mind,
Vast and free
In all directions!
No need to plot a line,
Instead like the humble earthworm,
Who in darkness fertilises:
Beauty, how unimaginable, how unknowingly,
Is by all that envelopes guided,
As from the cracked ***!
Which in Reality was suffocated,
The source is nourished.

VI

As my Cosmic Whale plunges the deeps,
Look to the expanse:

     The eternal behemoth whose flight
     Everywhere provides,
     Guileless and unobjectified.
     A subjectivity that knows no
     bounds,
     Is unto itself unknowable.

In brushstrokes.
The universe,
Is as it rolls Created.
Where logic has little to do,
As all,
Already simply is.
This poem is actually about the ego's death. How I will mourne it, and how the fight to let it go will be immense as it is for us all. Death in life comes in many shapes, not ultimate death, but our relationships, *le petite mort*. Of course, there is life beyond relationship death. Beyond a sense of end; and yes, ultimately all is good preparation for that all consuming final death. This poem was inspired by untenable love for another; by the paintings in bold, almost lurid, but zen-like brushstrokes of a fellow Tunnel member, Genevieve Leavold; and by my mate Chris Godber who alluded to whales. It also has to do with my Gypsy heart and Celine's Salon, in Soho at Troy 22, where we celebrated the traveller's soul. Finally, a YouTube clip of a talk given by Guru Mooji in which awareness is being conscious of conscious.

Bon Voyage!
Twalib Mushi Aug 2018
I  couldn't  protest
As  you  stole  my  heart
With  your  magica­l  parachute
You pretended to be a better pilot.

I  am  screaming  and  I'll  shout
My  innocent  heart
Un­knowingly, i  gave  you  all  credit
Helpless  I  couldn't  fight
I  am  com­pletely  lost.

Look  now  what  you  left
Nothing  but  a  bad  ­taste
A  taste  of  pepper  and  salt
Whether  I  believe  it  or­  not
This  is  all  my  fault
It  maybe  my  fate!
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