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"unleashing" poems
The mother is first— she is for all and down to earth. She, the mother Fathima, descended from uncharted Heaven— that pivotal frontier only the Prophet of all prophets has seen. Then, there was no Adam, nor Eve, nor even Jibreel. Every star across the seven skies wishes to kiss that golden dust. Not to mention the Moon at the center, waning and waxing—openly and secretly— unleashing its longing to rub this non-sublunary piece against its forehead. She knows—only then the rough seas beneath her will calm, bathed in the soft raining moonlight, rubbing off upon a lucky, blossomed forehead. Oh, if only— scarcely could they ever see it! The galaxies, since their inceptions, have longed for it. The bliss of the eyes—tucked away from the scene. Paradise lies beneath the mother’s feet! It finds its core, its resonant lore, in the shadow of the original feminine—Fathima. There, the original matter explored; Paradise breathed beneath her— but she touched down at the heart of the Earth without stepping or touching on Paradise, only to give her stake away to others. No land she would take on her way back, indeed. Not in her name. Do you know where Fathima’s grave is?
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Dec 28, 2017
Dec 28, 2017 at 4:01 PM UTC
Fathima Hailed From Pivotal Heaven
Ashen doves float within the waves, slinking like silent demons in the night. They curl around my body, jaws operating like steel machines, gnashing at my limbs. I begin to scream for help, but they ****** my breath, they drag me under their tides of black, unleashing my unremitting fear of water predators. their teeth, sunken into my flesh, gnawing at my mind, painting me my new mortality. These are my demons, the sharks in the bath when it comes to hygiene. the fear of the below and the depths of human mentality, the untraceable percentage of human worthlessness, the detestable attraction to the demise of our minds, I float lower into the aqua, pressure building, unforgiving and foreboding I close my lids, and dream of the sand, praying it to be underfoot when I open my eyes, but when my lids open, the doves loom closer. The irony of a hydrophobe, dying at the hands of the sharks.
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Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 8:20 PM UTC
IRONY
Destination home... Making my way Sleepy heads leaning End of the day Different people Diverse ethnic races Same endpoints For us nameless faces Where we're headed Timeless cues Rain-stained windows offer Only blurred views Beautiful display Droplets colliding Like liquid missiles Crashing and merging Yellow street lamps Neons on buildings Vehicular signals Intermittent flashings Reds, greens and ambers Fighting for attention Blues, whites and their hues Feast for perception Myriad colours Refracted and broken Prism induced dispersal Little light show haven Quite the spectacle This dance and flight Kaleidoscopic effect Between water and light Rain didn't abate Unleashing full fury All of us still safe Capsule of tranquillity Watching the chaos Still silently looking Overwhelming wonder Heart is choking Found myself tearing At the sight of this view Realised for certain That I'm missing you...
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Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 2:20 PM UTC
Rain-Stained Windows
Every corner every nook is full. Bouquets of stars flower over the Moon! Lo, unleashing every bit of the inky night the sleeping beauty to wake soon! Go to the nth degree when everything is full look for somewhere new! It's a full circle, full-blown but a ceaseless moving world to one more new angle!
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Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 4:37 PM UTC
Flower over the Moon
Dark clouds loomed over the horizon They broke loose in unprecedented force Nature’s wrath, sudden violence acquired It rained down as if unleashing all her fury It was a downpour without one equal The heavens let down dark misery for days on end, Water bodies swelled and hollows filled, Land mass slipped and trees fell, Rivers were in spate and dams were full Waves surfed and waters roared, Like mountains they rose over the land, Men in throngs were evicted from their homes, Hundreds died and livestock perished Such violence, never ever imagined Helter-skelter, people fled for life. Lands inundated and folks marooned, Homes washed away with all belongings Power failed and life has come to a halt Rescue operations go on in full swing Still many, stranded and crying for help “Water, water everywhere, nor even a drop to drink” As Nature thus plays her perfidious trick, We shall stay united and pool all our might, To regain for our land what we have lost When the Deluge chants the dirge of dying souls!
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Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 9:27 AM UTC
Nature's Wrath
they're spotless, no room for human flaws here. with faultless sense of selves and fragile attributes are silver stars, whose homes are cold glittered spotlights pressured, battered and bruised. look away dear, they're "fine" they're fine, scared and composed until the next plot twist rarely, ever so rarely - a perfect one slips a miscalculation on a regular day phenomena, wasn't supposed to be that way perfectionism drove them faultlessly insane when the known consistent road, shatters to eggshells "ever so rarely", they reason to the mirrors with guilt mixing in the blood of walking in fear inner madness unleashing, black swans reappearing the wrongs, how cruel that it doesn't let them go on "this is only once in a blue moon", they echo deep breathes, clutching close, the past's panic they can't let go
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Jul 25, 2021
Jul 25, 2021 at 11:46 AM UTC
black swans
the thought is simple the feeling the same stealing the rain that falls from yours eyes sealing the pain that spells our demise look my love look at the sky as the fish fly by I would catch one for you but I broke my pole last time I gave it a try it made me laugh so hard I started to cry and scream so loud I shattered the ground as well as the man solid like stone yet hes broken down to the bone lonely. but not alone relying solely on his phone to spill his thoughts and keep them his own the puppet show is the only place he has ever called home taking center stage unleashing hidden rage she squeezed out the cage sprend her wings for a few days flew around the world just to get lost in the maze with the turn of a phrase she reveals their life as a phase stunned and amazed he rolls up to blaze no clouds in his head just the purple haze now it all seems so simple the problem isn't mental it's a matter of will can I splatter and **** what I tried to hold still I'll do you one better leave the bird with one feather and sever the tether bring destruction to her seduction and then see how well she can function flying, running, lying, ******* tell me something is it simple now will more walls than bridges? is your life really better as just one of his ******* come to your senses you're smarter than this is giving you credit for the raven on my shoulder is squaking simply never more.
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Sep 17, 2011
Sep 17, 2011 at 9:31 PM UTC
Simple.
An earth sized boulder dislodged with the thunder Unleashing catacombs   of terrestrial darkness lay compressed beneath it for a thousand years The hidden ancients heard its soul hold forth;   their rumbling silence     ―  laid bare ― They heard its voice rises up with the ears of a new-born fawn Beguiling roots, solid as a rock, hold together like dark matter A soul weight beyond measure shouldering the torn of a divided heart Heaviness ... O' the heaviness ― just a platitude for what you feel when it all comes tumbling down to the ground Venerable times immemorial: an urging silence pushing down to the grave, trying to unlearn the things never known about the hearts we leave behind Jesse Stillwater
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May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 2:01 PM UTC
Dislodged with the Thunder
He stand alone by the river With his broken wings Head bowed in shame Tears carving its way through his face Crying in the agony With clothes tattered and knees scraped Bruises and scars covering his visage Blood splashing in water In darken heaven Seeing his own reflection Soul wounded by rejection Growing cold, sulking within Drowning in river of own sin No longer able to fly Not completely But losing his angelic side Against his will Unleashing his devil side Blamed by fiend Betrayed by loved ones Who didn't even took time to know In spite of being loyal Destroyed and ignored Now good person in him is lost What you see a man in disguise Is a devil But remember that devil was once an angel
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Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 1:52 PM UTC
The Devil Was Once An Angel
Partly darkened and part in light A time when the stars and sun shared the sky Bear witness to two behemoths wielding might Impending clash foreseen to go awry Two trains of thoughts charging from opposite ends Each bearing their own solid ideals Their flags that flew with conflicting brands Convictions they carry on beaten, weary wheels Almost an eternity, the time is soon Seconds lasted before they finally would meet Feeling of dread like the cloud covered moon With war cries of whistles, they would greet No possible way that they could miss War waged in steeled wills and forged metals Anticipate the moment, their couplings would kiss Unleashing a barrage of predestined reprisals Sheer destruction as they ate into each other All in tow haphazardly derailed A clash made of brute strength and power A result of when decisiveness had failed All was motionless save for the light of day The two lay dead; spent currencies in coal Fire and smoke had emerged from the fray Signifying that the two have met their goal Their cargo now freed, engaging in petty skirmish Lunging and wrestling as they fought for dominance Determination to overwhelm; never to languish Jousting fists fueled by pent-up vengeance Almost at end this long drawn battle Much like a storm to be patiently ridden out When the last of the debris should settle Then would be lifted the dusty veil of doubt The sun has now risen revealing the aftermath Shedding light on the devastation incurred Dark thoughts possess the most potent of wraths But nothing could beat the muscle of the written word Looking back I've realised the harm I've caused Found great solace in the dark words I've governed Life still hurls; it can never be paused Just dust yourself off for you're better off enlightened
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Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 5:14 AM UTC
Collision Course (III)
Partly darkened and part in light A time when the stars and sun shared the sky Bear witness to two behemoths wielding might Impending clash foreseen to go awry Two trains of thoughts charging from opposite ends Each bearing their own solid ideals Their flags that flew with conflicting brands Convictions they carry on beaten, weary wheels Almost an eternity, the time is soon Seconds lasted before they finally would meet Feeling of dread like the cloud covered moon With war cries of whistles, they would greet No possible way that they could miss War waged in steeled wills and forged metals Anticipate the moment, their couplings would kiss Unleashing a barrage of predestined reprisals Sheer destruction as they ate into each other All in tow haphazardly derailed A clash made of brute strength and power A result of when decisiveness had failed All was motionless save for the light of day The two lay dead; spent currencies in coal Fire and smoke had emerged from the fray Signifying that the two have met their goal Their cargo now freed, engaging in petty skirmish Lunging and wrestling as they fought for dominance Determination to overwhelm; never to languish Jousting fists fueled by pent-up vengeance Almost at end this long drawn battle Much like a storm to be patiently ridden out When the last of the debris should settle Then would be lifted the dusty veil of doubt The sun has now risen revealing the aftermath Shedding light on the devastation incurred Dark thoughts possess the most potent of wraths But nothing could beat the muscle of the written word Looking back I've realised the harm I've caused Found great solace in the dark words I've governed Life still hurls; it can never be paused Just dust yourself off for you're better off enlightened
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40
“By any means necessary” Words of encouragement to my self-depreciated soul Pure happiness coming at a premium The outside world strips me; making me its ***** Strange lips and unfamiliar hands cradle me Satisfaction in this sense is only temporary Criticism coming from every direction Questioning whether my lifestyle is necessary I’ve never enjoyed my naked predicament However, it’s my only productive option Allowing simpletons to simply have their way Faking pleasure, keeping my pain locked in After so much abuse, I try to be a man Clothing myself again, ******* up the tears The world has other ideas Unleashing every one of my fears Again, cold and abandoned I find myself back at square one Becoming a slave to the world Just another form of prostitution
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Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 1:24 PM UTC
Prostitution
I slept with her, my rapacious pen, took me in quiet vengeance in full on conjugation raken and taken, me, her overlording me now, her authorship, so long held in my maledom abeyance, a kept imprisonment, unleashing at last, a tongue lashing~leashing, de-spite my un-desirous craven lying supplications, excuses of innocence and accident, coincidence and conflation, ashes, ashes, denials incinerated, all fall down she wrote/stabbed upon my heartless chest, in the cheap crudités colors of a prisoner’s inking, “user of words mine, all mine” gathered up my innards of loose words, speculative notes & titles yet to be, born and kept hid in password protected silent back labor files, now hers, leaving me sputtering, unable to create, a homeless mute citizen, possession-less, helplessly hoping her hovering harlequin might relent, without any shelter, even a glimmering, a single aleph or bet she celebratory cackled and clawed, professed her reclamation ownership of all my poems predecessors, zola j’accusing that I, ripped from her forcibly, with no granted permission, her womanly touché of my scribing, warning of no more global warming for my unprivileged hands, daren’t try for pretenses of stolen legal guardianship, warning of a new, forced caining inscription, a tattooing of  “thief” upon my 5 knuckled right ****** “plagiarist” boldly inked in back & blue upon my left palm I, predator, she, victim, of my now self-professed, admitted confess, she, my single victim, of a decade long serializing criminal coverup her parting poem a threatening, herein issued in this very verse, damning all who would falsely credit themselves, to suffer shame and an unimaginable curse, this, the newborn eleventh of ten commandments parting, she kissing my lips, even my emptied apertures, with warning bitings, she knew all my my numerous noms de guerre, no dead scrolls caves to hid in, and to be discovered some future day, and if ever marked as copyrighted, ’twas no tunneling escape, the exposed truth to be over-stamped upon all, upon each, in every language, ”copied right from the tongue of a woman!” and she would be wright...
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May 23, 2019
May 23, 2019 at 10:10 AM UTC
slept with my rapacious pen (she, full on conjugation)
I slept with her, my rapacious pen, took me in quiet vengeance in full on conjugation raken and taken, me, her overlording me now, her authorship, so long held in my maledom abeyance, a kept imprisonment, unleashing at last, a tongue lashing~leashing, de-spite my un-desirous craven lying supplications, excuses of innocence and accident, coincidence and conflation, ashes, ashes, denials incinerated, all fall down she wrote/stabbed upon my heartless chest, in the cheap crudités colors of a prisoner’s inking, “user of words mine, all mine” gathered up my innards of loose words, speculative notes & titles yet to be, born and kept hid in password protected silent back labor files, now hers, leaving me sputtering, unable to create, a homeless mute citizen, possession-less, helplessly hoping her hovering harlequin might relent, without any shelter, even a glimmering, a single aleph or bet she celebratory cackled and clawed, professed her reclamation ownership of all my poems predecessors, zola j’accusing that I, ripped from her forcibly, with no granted permission, her womanly touché of my scribing, warning of no more global warming for my unprivileged hands, daren’t try for pretenses of stolen legal guardianship, warning of a new, forced caining inscription, a tattooing of  “thief” upon my 5 knuckled right ****** “plagiarist” boldly inked in back & blue upon my left palm I, predator, she, victim, of my now self-professed, admitted confess, she, my single victim, of a decade long serializing criminal coverup her parting poem a threatening, herein issued in this very verse, damning all who would falsely credit themselves, to suffer shame and an unimaginable curse, this, the newborn eleventh of ten commandments parting, she kissing my lips, even my emptied apertures, with warning bitings, she knew all my my numerous noms de guerre, no dead scrolls caves to hid in, and to be discovered some future day, and if ever marked as copyrighted, ’twas no tunneling escape, the exposed truth to be over-stamped upon all, upon each, in every language, ”copied right from the tongue of a woman!” and she would be wright...
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49
Many people believe that Satan is a myth, they think that he doesn't exist. Sadly, he is real and the evil things that he causes are too many to list. The world keeps getting worse and worse, people lie, cheat and commit crimes. The reason why things are getting worse is because Satan is working overtime. Satan and his demons are unleashing more evil because their remaining time is getting shorter as each day goes by. Satan will be destroyed and he wants to take as many with him as he can before he is defeated by God and condemned to die. Fifty years ago children could take walks by themselves and return safe and sound. If children do that now, they are either abducted or end up being buried in the ground. If you don't believe me, you'll find a wall of missing children at a Walmart that's close to where I live. People who are stealing, killing and doing other evil things had better stop it and ask The Lord to forgive. Satan and his demons work hard at corrupting people and they'll try to corrupt both me and you. When this happens, we must ask God to give us strength and support, that is what we must do.
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Aug 5, 2016
Aug 5, 2016 at 2:41 PM UTC
Satan Is Working Overtime
In Battalion, Misery is served in a thousand ways. Misery is served in buckets of rain and hours of wind. Unyielding, soul-sucking cold and wet. Porous jungle boots that invite the frigid water in and soften your feet for a relentless 30 mile march. Misery is served in a stifling aircraft flying Nap of the Earth. A nauseating rollercoaster ride that never fails to elicit chain reaction vomiting from the paratroopers rigged to jump. Misery is served at pool PT When your arms and legs feel like lead and drowning is a better alternative than the aquatic torture that you’re enduring. Misery is served during blistering Company runs led by the Commander who was a college decathlete. Runs where the strongest of us pulled aside, emptied our stomachs, and rejoined the formation. Misery is served by no warning alerts separating families and lovers for indefinite periods, sometimes forever. Misery is served by the Spec 4 Mafia Unleashing Hell on new Rangers testing their threshold for **** Misery is served by road marches, prickly heat, Black Palm, and sawgrass. It’s served by desert heat, Arctic cold, and the stench of the world’s worst places. Misery is served by the loss of brothers in war and training, gone too soon to join the Great Ranger in the Sky. Through it all, misery hardened my body and strengthened my soul. It made me a warrior and ushered me into a Brotherhood that will be with me until we all sit at the great table in Valhalla. So on this Veteran’s Day Embrace the **** Endure the pain Invite the Misery For that’s what makes us Men amongst Men Rangers Lead The Way.
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Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 10:34 AM UTC
The Gift of Pain
In Battalion, Misery is served in a thousand ways. Misery is served in buckets of rain and hours of wind. Unyielding, soul-sucking cold and wet. Porous jungle boots that invite the frigid water in and soften your feet for a relentless 30 mile march. Misery is served in a stifling aircraft flying Nap of the Earth. A nauseating rollercoaster ride that never fails to elicit chain reaction vomiting from the paratroopers rigged to jump. Misery is served at pool PT When your arms and legs feel like lead and drowning is a better alternative than the aquatic torture that you’re enduring. Misery is served during blistering Company runs led by the Commander who was a college decathlete. Runs where the strongest of us pulled aside, emptied our stomachs, and rejoined the formation. Misery is served by no warning alerts separating families and lovers for indefinite periods, sometimes forever. Misery is served by the Spec 4 Mafia Unleashing Hell on new Rangers testing their threshold for **** Misery is served by road marches, prickly heat, Black Palm, and sawgrass. It’s served by desert heat, Arctic cold, and the stench of the world’s worst places. Misery is served by the loss of brothers in war and training, gone too soon to join the Great Ranger in the Sky. Through it all, misery hardened my body and strengthened my soul. It made me a warrior and ushered me into a Brotherhood that will be with me until we all sit at the great table in Valhalla. So on this Veteran’s Day Embrace the **** Endure the pain Invite the Misery For that’s what makes us Men amongst Men Rangers Lead The Way.
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40
*Turning a blind eye to the dark clouds Looming over the horizon Lightning lashing across like whip Loud crackle and the thunderous roar Lightning strikes with archer’s precision Hitting the target with a vengeance Cauterizing life in a matter of seconds Zeus, unleashing the thunderbolt So much rage in the Ether Punishing relentlessly with nature’s fury Now the clouds break loose Intense darkness shrouds over the day Clouds have opened up with running streams As it washes away all the agony It opens the eyes to an invigorating event Replenishing the parched Earth Waterfalls and rivers flows with life Nature calms after the ferocity, bringing hope*
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Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 5:11 AM UTC
Nature’s Fury
humans paint the galaxies; stars poured by the gods on a piece of dark, endless canvas. the nature talks about freckles and moles on a maiden's skin and how interesting connecting dots into intricate shapes is. humans boast about love. all the mediocre melodies to woo, cupid unleashing arrows, and the cries written on minor scale; blacks and whites of the piano. the unexplainable look on one's eyes. things they left unrecorded though— ones the studio of the universe releases an album of: motorbike roars as a boy speeds through countless others that are deemed insignificant, compared to the thought of his mom waiting at home. for centuries and more centuries, the poets go on about emptiness. the caging abyss, they said, of sadness. a dark place. but seasons whisper the stark difference of breeze nibbling on your skin and of the dropping temperature of winter harshly piercing your senses like knives. dancers waltz to the moonlight, reenacting silent screams and insanity. but withering flowers' petals got themselves caught up in a game of tag with their own kin. it's funny how humans talk about the comparison (as i am doing right now) of the art we make and the art that is already there before us. when the universe tries again and again to teach us what kind of little majestic things we are, what kind of little majestic things surround us. (must say, we're quite dumb. unable to understand.)
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Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 10:53 AM UTC
"just a speck of dust within the galaxy."
Step by step it flows Unleashing trapped desires Edifying body and soul Unifying humankind in entire. Reaching within depths untold Possessing, with grooves so bold With rhythmic waves and strides Varying from tribe to tribe. Dancing is a rite Not a mere reaction to music Dancing is a language Spoken in the voice of the body As music transpires with bodies Bodies of beautiful maidens Bodies- voluptuous, with sweat Leaving our warriors gasping! Dancing to the beats Dancing to the rhythm Dancing in the heat Like horses never ridden Dancing is a bond unbroken An expression of feelings unspoken Well spoken by the untrained Well grasped by the unlearned Birthing in the cries of Ogene Riding on the waves of Udu Floating on the wings of Ekwe Gliding in the ripples of Oja It is the essence of our tradition Passed from generations of old We express it proudly As we answer the call of Igba. © Raphael Uzor
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Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 8:14 AM UTC
Body Language (In Igbo Land)
I seen beneath my eyelids I was a black silhouette of an entity outlined in platinum aura eclipse and the visions fell far & fell hard from a teardrop chandelier hanging from the ceiling in my skull & shattered the crude jewel encrusted crescent floor then thunder roared in the distance & erupted the crown, unleashing a copious explosion of white gold light & my skeleton sheds the snakeskin & escapes thru the hole in my head; just crawls right out, bubbles up & becomes a pink heart shaped balloon & it floats up. out. away. creeps thru one of the holes in the ozone, straight into the sun & burns up. star burst. & that's soul.
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May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 11:37 PM UTC
Peroxide
Clouds rolling, Rumbling forwards, Thickly laden, Soaked with black rain, Unstoppable, Even by the sun, Growling softly, Then stronger, building, Until at last, Unleashing its blades, That cut the air, And spear the weak ground, Creatures below, Insignificant, Against the might, Of a vengeful sky.
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Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 1:03 PM UTC
Vengeful Sky
**WELCOME TO THE WORLD OF CASUAL *** True romance is dead it is buried in the dense rocks eroded from the cliffs to the valleys it's silenced in the pitch of a symphony It's a poet dream to write sweet sentiments kiss in the nothingness sketch love as if a masterpiece Now a Tinder where you can plunder curves and bossoms with no responsibility Then Ok Cupid where conversations tender and ponder before unleashing the game There is always POF where fishes dare in a swim kissing and pinching punching and finishing True love is an illusionary debt a cheque in deficit An emotional injustice the unrighteous pursuit It's a poet's dreams to love count the stars and watch the moon nurture emotions and connections The probability is the world won't let us It won't let us be Ladies just undress and expose the jubblies Men just undress and measure your ***** the world won't let us be
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Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 11:38 AM UTC
The World of Casual *** (Tinder, POF, OKC)
Savvy from a day of prerequisite joy Cranked up like a wind-up toy Dead in bed sick with grief Happiness stolen by a ruthless thief All I can offer is a comforting presence A warm and friendly essence To uplift the dreariness returned in an empty stare Of half a person steadily fading into thin air Placing the label doesn't change the facts Or contain the feelings that seep through vulnerable cracks. Late at night when sleep is suggested She stays up through lonely darkness, while her days are well rested. Something lurks in every corner of her mind, waiting... To provoke regrets left amiss, full of condemned hating. Here I sit helpless, uncertain of what I should do, In my haste, harsh words slip "What is wrong with you?!" Too late, I've riled a beast inside Unleashing demons that left me terrified Flames flicker flecks of light in sullen eyes Burning all hopes in a pit of demise. She's enraged with destructive intent Loosing the battle to an ocean of chaos where no hope is dreamt In an instant, the fire recedes and her eyes die, She lies down, back to bed hoists the blanket over her head Only three words to reply: 'why even try?'
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Sep 11, 2010
Sep 11, 2010 at 5:36 PM UTC
Bipolar
once you take that first step down the path the decision has been set upon and you cannot go back now it is up to trust, that invisible demon or angel in waiting right or wrong the pendulum will swing in either direction time a curse or a blessing guided by a compass beholden to no one it has its own destiny for love once betrayed is a vengeful enemy setting off a cornucopia of storms of anger unleashing the torments only goddesses can bestow their ire ****** forth like a thunderous lighting strike wishing to smite those that have broken her heart there is no hiding from the maelstrom your betrayal has unleashed bringing embarrassment to those that inhabit castles a dire misjudgment in a moment of voluptuous temptation is there now regret to having succumbed to human wontedness it would appear so, hands now tied striding towards the inevitable step by step moving closer to the sentence handed down the walled fortress now a corral with no escape and then I am there, she and a legion of men in waiting a gilded sword sharp as any in the kingdom prepared her golden hair blowing in the wind, delicate features revealed utter beauty astonishing in the backdrop of a scorching sun how could I have traded this for a night of passion with another now I am pushed down to kneel before her my heart racing wildly she is judge and jury and as she draws back the sword I wonder if there is one morsel of sympathy in her repertoire so I close my eyes and ponder why has my lust brought me here all the whilst listening for the whoosh that will end my days or not Andreas Simic©
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Apr 30, 2022
Apr 30, 2022 at 8:50 PM UTC
Betrayal
once you take that first step down the path the decision has been set upon and you cannot go back now it is up to trust, that invisible demon or angel in waiting right or wrong the pendulum will swing in either direction time a curse or a blessing guided by a compass beholden to no one it has its own destiny for love once betrayed is a vengeful enemy setting off a cornucopia of storms of anger unleashing the torments only goddesses can bestow their ire ****** forth like a thunderous lighting strike wishing to smite those that have broken her heart there is no hiding from the maelstrom your betrayal has unleashed bringing embarrassment to those that inhabit castles a dire misjudgment in a moment of voluptuous temptation is there now regret to having succumbed to human wontedness it would appear so, hands now tied striding towards the inevitable step by step moving closer to the sentence handed down the walled fortress now a corral with no escape and then I am there, she and a legion of men in waiting a gilded sword sharp as any in the kingdom prepared her golden hair blowing in the wind, delicate features revealed utter beauty astonishing in the backdrop of a scorching sun how could I have traded this for a night of passion with another now I am pushed down to kneel before her my heart racing wildly she is judge and jury and as she draws back the sword I wonder if there is one morsel of sympathy in her repertoire so I close my eyes and ponder why has my lust brought me here all the whilst listening for the whoosh that will end my days or not Andreas Simic©
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29
A demented whisper Tugs upon your sleeve To gaze into the unknown To gaze into the awe Unleashing your fear Fire burning in your bones You flex your mind Like you would a muscle In control of everything Watching the world in front of you You realize you were living a lie You realize you were ignorant But it all didn't matter For you were in awe of the universe Time ceased to matter You've spent your life being it's slave Armoured with the love Of  people infinite You feel no worry You've seen the light You are the light You are the energy You are the beginning and the end You are more than you thought you were You are awake
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Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 7:23 AM UTC
Awake
Lined paper, Staff paper, actually. Flipping through the blank pages, Viewing hundreds of songs that have yet to be written. Homesick for places never visited, Longing for those never met, The pen hits the paper, Unleashing the madness. And so it begins.
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Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 12:30 AM UTC
Songwriter
Although I dont know her all to well With a first impression flawed Ive wrote this poem to show and tell her happy birthday! I KNOW, this is odd- Who writes a poem as a birthday gift? So personal yet incomplete- Its because im here so spirits lift And to show remorse for my deceit Im not really as rude as i was; Not nearly as mean of a ***** Still im unfiltered, simply because - When around lucie hehe, sometimes I switch So Shay, im sorry for unleashing my inner ***** Happy 24th Birthday- from me, to you- Im too poor to buy presents So I hope this will do. With words incandessence Do you boo boo!
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May 10, 2023
May 10, 2023 at 4:33 PM UTC
ShayShay