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Red-Writing-Hood Oct 2012
There are lessons that school doesn't teach you
Some things can't be learned by sitting in an uncomfortable chair for several hours a day, tapping your pencil against a desk with your head in your hand staring blankly into space...and if you're like me you have headphones in your ears, thoughts in the clouds, feet off the ground with the touch screen of my phone at my finger tips.
One of those things you can't learn trapped in the four walls of a classroom is that life hits you, hard, in the face, like that first heartbreak...causing an unbearable ache in your chest that feels like you may be entering cardiac arrest.
Your body goes into shock and it's almost like you're in la la land for a moment with a hangover infecting your heart that no type of Advil can fix, until you realize that the person you've thought you were in love with for the past while is no longer that person...they reveal themselves by ripping off their mask of a handsome face to expose a terrifying appearance of sharp teeth and beady eyes, a monster, a liar, a cheater...a heart breaker...
Life waits for you to stand back up only to kick you back down and although you've already fallen seven times and your hearts a little bruised and tattered you stand up eight with a stubborn refusal like the ocean waves always coming back to kiss the shore line no matter how many times it's sent away.
When I was thirteen years old, my older brother taught me something that no teacher could ever have written down in their lesson plan, he said that the number one rule to being cool is to remain unphased, never admitting anything can hurt you, excite you or impress you.
I figure it's like walking through life with your arms as a shield, to protect yourself from all the unexpected miseries or hurt like heartbreak or getting fired or not getting hired. I try to walk through life with my arms and hands wide open...and yes that means catching every heartbreak and each last drop of pain life can squeeze out for me but it also means that when beautiful...amazing things just fall out of the sky...like love...I'm ready to catch them.
I may get an F on one of life's tests but that doesn't mean I can't study for the exam, the bigger picture, because failure is success when you allow yourself to learn from it and that's what I'll do, I will be as open as a book and make sure to write down all of my journeys with no details left out, highlighting the good parts but never forgetting the bad
But I'll be sure to tread carefully because life is as fragile as a bubble but I have to remember that I can't be afraid to stick my finger out and pop it if I don't like the direction it's going in and if popping that bubble means a down pour of miseries, bring it on because my hands are as strong as the suns love for the moon, so stack up my problems like books in a library and I'll read them again and again
And for each new lesson I'll show up with a backpack full of everywhere else I've been, eager to collect another souvenir like the laugh lines framing my mouth or the worry wrinkle etched into my forehead and my heart will come along for the ride, strapped in tight, prepared for all the potholes and sharp turns but there's no air bags aloud so every time we crash there's nothing coming between me and the beginning of a new lesson
Silence
In a room full of people I can't be heard
It's rare that I can captivate attention
Just drowned out by my lack of interest

I enter a room and you are unphased
Quick to rush to the next subject
I am not important enough
Whereas once you'd carry me
Told me I was rare
Now you have so much power my rareness is unimportant
Unphased
Madison Aug 2018
Our story's beginnings are rather plain
Set in a town built on the mundane.
In this town, there lived a boy
Devoid of ambition, love, or joy.

He sleepwalked through his days
Aimless and alone.
Drowning in a melancholy haze
He longed for something lovely to call his own.

Now, I shan't tell you the young man's name
For fear he'd hang his head in shame
But his story you should know.
For it's not the name that marked this boy
But the places he would go.  

One day, an idea dawned
To take a day trip out of town.
The boy made a map
And a line was drawn
To the path he would walk down.

He followed the map with surprising ease
Over the hills and through the trees.
Though the boy was thrilled
He couldn't wrap his mind
Around the treasure
He would soon find.

The path came to an end
Without the map's warning
Causing the boy's plans to upend
Before it was even midmorning.
But the boy was in awe
Despite the offset.
He knew what he saw
He would not soon forget.
In the middle of the golden field
Stood a tall ivory castle.
His chronic disenchantment healed
The boy vowed to see inside
Whatever the hassle.

So he searched for a door
Until he could search no more.
He attempted to climb
With no regard for time.
He searched for a ****
Or a lock
Or a key.
Only when he was about to give up
Did the answer break free.

Against all reason
The castle began to glow.
When the transformation came to completion
A strange voice let him know.

"Come in," coaxed the disembodied voice
Honeyed and assured.
Feeling as if he had no choice
Inside, the boy was lured.

"My, you are a rude one," the voice began to chide.
"A lady invites you into her home, and without a word, you come inside?
I'm not expecting you to write me a sonnet, but at least have a bit of tact!
If we're being honest, boy, I believe your manners lack."

Sure this was some sort of stunt
The boy calmly shook his head.
"Forgive me, Miss, for being so blunt
But I believe the fault is yours instead.
You expect me to believe I was propositioned
By a castle that spoke?
I am certain one of my peers commissioned
Some sort of pricey joke.
I'm sorry, Castle Lady Dear
But I must be on my way.
I'm afraid I can't stay here
Perhaps we'll finish another day.
It's truly nothing personal
I simply have a hunch
That if I stick around for now
I'll miss my mother's lunch."

The boy turned on his heel
Not saying any more.
He soon let out a pitiful squeal
When he found there was no longer a door.

The Castle Lady countered his squeal
With a sinister cackle.
"Did you really believe you could leave me here
Without it becoming a debacle?
I'm sorry, dear
But for now
To this place, you are shackled."

Heart suddenly stricken with fear
The boy's eyes filled with tears
And he began to cry.
"Please let me go!" he cried out.
"I am far too young to die!"

Much to the boy's chagrin
The Castle Lady only laughed again.
"Goodness me, my dear!
You must be some sort of fool!
I do not plan to **** you here.
How could I ever be so cruel?"

Angered by the castle woman's taunts
The boy's eye began to twitch.
"If you won't **** me, what do you want?
Let me go, you witch!"

Unphased by his outburst
The Castle Lady simply tsked.
"Are you sure the witch is me
When you're the one being so mean?
I know what a statement this might be
But I believe you're the meanest boy I've seen.
But you can relax
For I've had my fun.
I simply have a favor to ask
Before you turn and run."

Against all logic
And stranger-danger talks
The notion of adventure
Overpowered his urge to balk.
"What is it?" he asked the Castle Lady
As curiosity struck.
When the Castle Lady responded
He could not believe his luck.

"Resting in one of my rooms
Is an awe-inspiring prize.
It holds power and beauty few men ever get to witness
With their own two eyes.
In fact, it holds too much power
So much that it's making me sick.
Only the brightest of young men can bear it
And you're the one I've picked."

The boy's heart raced.
For that prize, he yearned.
Still, he said:
"There must be some mistake.
Are you sure this is a prize I've earned?"

Overtaken by laughter
The Castle Lady began to roar.
"I am not that sick, dear boy!
Of course I am sure!
I can not make any mistake
No matter how small.
Didn't your mother teach you
That divine beings know all?
Now, you are an imaginative lad
With the charisma to match.
I'd dare say you are the best equipped child
Out of the local batch."

The boy couldn't help but crack a grin
Flattered by the Castle Lady's assessment.
"I suppose you must be right, then.
Now where do I get my present?"

"It is not a difficult journey at all," the Castle Lady replied.
"Just walk a bit down this here hall
And look to your left side."

Suddenly, the room filled with bright light
To help him find his way around.
In saying the journey was not difficult, the Castle Lady was right
As another glowing doorway
Was soon found.

"Very good, you clever boy!" the Castle Lady cried.
"Just give your fingers a quick snap
And take a step inside."

Proudly, the boy followed her advice.
The snap of his fingers reverberated
Sounding quite nice.
Secretly, the simple action
Gave him a small thrill
For he was the only child in his town
Who had such a skill.

Just as the lady promised
The door opened right away.
Thus, he took that fateful step inside
As she said he may.

Alas, it seemed the boy had been cheated by his wanderlust.
The only thing inside the room
Was a wooden box
Coated in dust.

All sense of wonder gone
The boy was certain it was a trick.
"You horrid con!
What in here is making you sick?"

Unamused, the Castle Lady sighed.
This was not the first time a child had thought she lied.
"You're jumping to conclusions, boy.
I'm not that sly a fox.
If you want to find the treasure
Look inside the box."

Begrudgingly, the boy obliged
Lifting up the top.
In the moment he saw what was inside
The whole world seemed to stop.

The boy's jaw dropped
As the box glowed
As if it contained all of heaven's rumored light.
It was true that he was unlikely
To ever again see such a wonderful sight.

"Well?" the Castle Lady inquired.
"Would you like to keep it?
You have all the qualities required
It's only fair that you reap it."

"Of course I'd like to keep it," said the boy.
"But what should I do?
What power do I have
To take care of this box
Any better than you?"

"The box can do anything," said the Castle Lady.
"Perhaps that's why I can not have it.
Still, you need not engage in special care and keeping
Or develop any new habits.

The box can do whatever you wish
Cure disease and famine
Or make your family rich.
I can not tell you what to do
Just use your own discretion.
Besides, it wouldn't truly be yours to use
If you did so under my direction.
So simply take it home
And do with it what you will
But before you choose to roam
I have one more message for you still."

Holding the box to him
The boy lifted an ear
Regarding her as a friend.
"What is it, Castle Lady?
Please say what needs to be said!"

When she spoke again
The boy could swear her voice contained a smile.
"When you leave me, the castle will come to an end
And this part of me will be dead.
Though I'd love for you to stay a while
So we could become better acquainted
I'm afraid that would be against the rules
And the prophecy would be tainted.
So, clever boy
For now, I'll bid you adieu.
You deserve to be given joy
And I hope that is what the box will do."

No sooner than she spoke
Did the castle vanish
In a puff of smoke.
Once again, the boy stood in the field.
In his hands rested the box
The closed lid keeping its powers concealed.
Somewhere between satisfied and sad.

He gave her a eulogy
However unorthodox.
"Goodbye, Castle Lady Dear, I enjoyed our little talks.
Maybe we'll meet in another world...
Oh, and thank you for the box!"
Having said all he needed to say
The boy knew he should be leaving soon.
He turned to walk the other way.
Walking home, his fingers snapped a tune.

It wasn't long before the whole town
Knew about his treasured box.
The boy made sure all his friend knew.
In school, he stopped all of the clocks.

He provided his class with great delight.
As a school day
Melted away
Into a Friday night.
The grown-ups none the wiser
He pulled off the perfect crime.
Forever the improvisor
He also did away with bedtime.

He gave his family money
As the Castle Lady said he could.
Though his old bullies looked at him funny
His clothes had never looked so good.

He gave himself popularity
A Labrador puppy
A brand new bike.
The ones who teased him
Spoke apologetically
And there wasn't a single girl
By whom he wasn't liked.

It wasn't long, however
Before the fun began to fade.
As much power as he had, he never intended
To share his gift with his whole grade.

"Can you tell me
If my pet goldfish is really watching from above?"
"Can you please help me
Make my parents fall back in love?"
"Can you make it so that
My grandpa isn't sick anymore?"
"Can you invent a robot
To help me do my chores?"
"Can you make sure
That my family keeps our home?"
"Oh-- and while you're at it
Help me write my girlfriend a nice poem?"

Alas, the boy paid no mind
To their wants and needs.
He had left his charitable days behind
In favor of his newfound greed.
Though his box could do anything
It really wasn't his job.
No matter what happiness to others it might bring
Of his power, he'd feel robbed.

He didn't know that at night
His friends went home to cry
Asking their nonexistent treasured boxes
"If he can have something special
Why can't I?"

Life went on like this
Until one day, he was greeted by a bird.
It landed on his shoulder
And hissed,
"You'll never guess what I heard."

The boy was quite frightened
Both by the bird's familiar voice
And what it said.
Still, his eyes brightened
When he shouted
"Castle Lady?
I thought that you were dead!"

"Too bad," the bird crowed.
"For I'm very much alive.
And I figure you should know
I won't allow you to continue to connive."

At her choice of words
The boy sputtered.
"What do you mean, bird?"
He nervously stuttered.

The Bird Lady stared at him
With beady black eyes.
"I mean, I saw what you've done with your gift
And I was unpleasantly surprised.
You didn't disrupt any tradition.
I told you to do what you would.
It was just that I had the premonition
That you'd use your power for good.
You're no better than any of your classmates
You silly sap!
Did it ever occur to you
That you were only picked
Because you can snap?
When my last life came to an end
You thanked me for the box
And ran home to your mother.
My spirit would have been able to rest
If you had used the box to help others.
I am older than most earthly things
And some sights I've seen are hellish.
This in mind
It's beyond me
Why you'd choose to be so selfish.
See, this box was once mine
Changing owners as it does
And when it fell into my hands I wished
To be anything but the girl I was.
From then on, I've been trapped
In the form of many objects
And, whenever I try to go from this world to the next
Fate always interjects.
I'm the keeper of this box
Until it falls into the hands of someone good enough
And I'm here to say, dear boy
I'm afraid you must give it up."

Without warning
The boy broke down
Dropping to his knees.
For the first time since that fateful day
His sense of superiority ceased
And truth began to reign.
Head in his hands, he grieved
For those he had caused pain.

The Bird Lady remained by his side
Trying her hardest to soothe.
"Now, clever boy, you need not cry
But the box does need to move.
Now, I need you to calm down and listen to me
And let me make myself clear.
I need you to go to the sea
And that's the last wish you will make here."

Suddenly, the boy understood.
When it was far too late, he used his powers for good.
So he wished for the ocean, heeding the Bird Lady's advice.
The two of them were at the beach
Before he could think twice.

"Very good," the Bird Lady praised.
"All you have to do now is let go.
Don't worry, my dear boy
When the box finds its forever home
I'll be sure to let you know."

The boy nodded.
With shaking hands, he looked down.
Taking a deep breath, he dropped the box
And all his wrongdoings drowned.

"Thank you very much," the Bird Lady chirped.
"Now, relax, and let your conscience be cleared.
You can go home
And I'll take it from here.
One last thing
I should tell you, my friend.
All this can be fixed
If you just have an ear to lend.
No matter how heartfelt
Apologies only take you so far.
What you should do now
Is fix your regrets with actions
To show them what a lovely boy you are."

With that
The Bird Lady dove
Picking up the box with her magnificent beak.
The boy returned home
With redemption to seek.

All these years later
Our nameless boy is now a man.
He's ordinary, yes
But ordinary is good enough.
He doesn't look down on others
Or even try to act tough.
Though he's no longer a heartthrob
One girl remained by his side.
When she is there
He never has to hide.
When a friend has a problem
He is there to listen.
And, though he holds no glowing box
His eyes still glisten.


Meanwhile, our Lady's soul
Now rests within a spaniel dog.
Though the box still has no permanant owner
She doesn't think it will be long.
Though that might seem unlikely
Divine beings do know all
Though everyone makes mistakes
Both big and small.
She may chastise others
For poor choices and self-control
But in the end, she knows the box only needs one thing:
To be cared for by a beautiful soul.
Larry dillon Jan 2023
The gods let this baby be born
As a thing they could reclaim
One day with cruel delay
Boils from black plague desecrated her skin
Right before her second birthday
A lesson on how a life can be stolen
Shortly after it begins
Or how we're without hope to the whims
Of the bored gods before us

To save the last of his kin
The father implored the science
Of the village sage and physicians
He was turned down at every door
Their medicine was not meant
To save the poor nor destitute
  
Resolute in his faith
there were good gods who gave grace
Unto children without sin
He next beseeched healing power
from varied institutions of the miracle men
Preyed over by priests, rabbis, and sheikhs
He sacrificed and spent
every cent he had saved
And their churches took his tithes
But did not take her pain away

Grief striken, defeated, with no recourse
Liquid sedated in a pub,he feels remorse
" our child will join you soon,
my dearest departed wife"
a pubhand overhears him saying,
"you can still save your daughter's life!"

"listen as I entail
The hidden trail you must trek
before the antelucan hour strikes
Her magiks are only ripe
in the dead of the night
Nestled within that loury forest
Her cabin obscured from mortal sight
Resides an occultist of such cunning:
A bog witch named Blight"

The pubhand helped him to more mead for free
Unprompted he then proceeds to lead
The father through that place he now seeks
-claiming his shift had come to an end
As they drew closer to the cabin
Something happened most curious and queer
The pubhand turned into a black cat,
Scurried off into the brush- to dissappear

Influenced by fermented spirits in his blood
He pays heed to their whisper
-Her cabin door is ajar
And they beckon he enter

Now in Blight's place of power with his offspring.

"oh hapless father when you sing,
How the gods do smile
You worshipped the very ones
who wish to **** your only child
they're vile and malcontent
All they know are delinquent tendencies
They'll torture her spirit for sport,
When she dies you see
But by my incantation
That needn't come be"

"drain the blood of a bat
with deviant intent
Recant the name of your gods;
You now resent  
The blood will brew all the while
-in my elixir
When the little girl drinks:
it will fix her
It will turn her pale white
You will fear she has perished
She will stalk this earth
Forever parched with ravenous thirst
And a stark aversion to sunlight
NOW YOU MUST CHOOSE:
A dead child!
...or a creature of the night?"

The father did as directed
He did not second guess
Unaware of the sorceresses subtle gesticulations
-Were creating a hex
He's blind to machinations set in motion long ago
The wiccan pours her will into a binding circle
As the child drinks the concoction slow

His daughter's vitality returns
The plague is receding
Fangs sprang forth
as she bites into her father's neck
Blood trickles down in specks
The girl keeps feeding
And feeding

all gods once assembled to fight Blight
The powerful mad goddess would direct
her sadistic debauchery at their human subjects
-human praise appealed to the god's vanity-
Her godhood sealed by the Parthenon
in a prison comprised of flesh
Divinity bound;
betrayed by other gods
There were too many for her to resist
A former god trapped in mortal form
Blight's punishment was to simply exist

For 300 years Blight had waited for a night like this
An ancient curse she could wield
As revenge for imprisonment
Finally obtaining the last two ingredients:
A child that was pure
And a father's consent

A direct strike of lightning sets Blight's cabin ablaze  
still in her binding circle, she's indifferent
And unphased
From threats of fearful deities who see
She's about to set her nocturnal creations free
Undeterred by their show of force
she releases her two vamps
with a flick of her wrist and no remorse

Iightning strikes within an inch of Blight
She leers at the heavens
Much defiance and mirth
In the distance a village screams
As her fiends burn it down to the dirt

The Parthenon replies:
Bellowing cumulonimbus clouds
decries her decision
Such chaos;
now her scheming REALLY has their attention
The.Ones.Who.Watch. Above

See all.

Throughout panoptic thrones they peer
pained fury for this village culling:
Blight jeers
Sanctimonius thunderstorm brings fervent rain
Their vain,pious tears-
The skies can not contain

The gods cry.

"Oh, how i wonder what will worship gods then,
When humanity dies?"

Luminous surges of lightning bolts strike
Tries to smite this emboldened bog witch
...Yet, in spite of their wish,
she somehow stays unhurt...

Blight smirks.
I story of a father's desperation abused and a scheming bog witch's revenge.
TheLonely Aug 2018
I'd be lying if I said
This isn't hurting me
I'm a sucker for telling you
This is hurting me

I can't tell the difference anymore
Admitting a problem
Is that my solution
Or is this my problem

Numbing the pain
Doesn't make it ok
I'm gonna get you back
And still won't be ok

Trying to keep my wrist closed
So I don't **** me
And you're unphased by my pain
And that's what kills me
First thing I wrote after I got my heartbroken
Laura Matas Apr 2017
I want to move on,
But I am stuck.
Stuck on the memories.
Stuck on what could've been.
Stuck on wondering what went wrong.
Stuck on wondering what more I could've done.

I am stuck on the way you made me laugh.
I am stuck on the way you held my hand.
I am stuck on the way you held me in your arms, as we gazed up at the stars on a cold December night.
I am stuck on our roadtrips and our perfectly imperfect duets.
I am stuck on who you empowered and encouraged me to be.
I am stuck on how you made me feel and who you were when I was falling in love.

Now, I see you,
And every time I do,
My heart breaks all over.
I see you talk to everyone else in the room, and bit by bit I fall apart inside.
I see you with other girls, encouraging them the way you did me at the beginning.
I see you moving on, completely unstuck,
Completely unphased by the torment I am in.

You made me genuinely happy.
Happier than I've ever been.
And I can choose to be joyful
and patient
and kind
and humble
and good,

But happiness is stuck in the past with you.
Nat Lipstadt Jul 2019
love between poets: “who will be between the sheets next week
when I’m gone,” she lets sigh-escape,
as she watches the backyard paradise parading landscape
of animals before the bay, perfect day sure to come,
her new pets obeying the early morn sunrising awakening call
to rise, everyone playing~parading, before her royal summons,
no coincidence, finger-of-god, two by two

this while I’m kissing her neck,
my arm around her *******,
and the he-intent on slip sliding down
to the small of her back,
obeying his innate,
worship worshiping and giving up,
all he’s got intense intently contentedly

unfazed, unphased,
non-nonplussed,
he’s been interrogated before,
heart is pure he answers:

next weekend when you are back in situ,
thousands of miles away, airplane housed for hours,
writing poems of love from the lost and found,
recalling this exact moment,
how I worshipped your presence,
and these words:

You will be with me in every breath,
our sheets will radioactively emit
ions and molecules of our scent combined,
and present as present  your perfume can be,
elicited, elixir, you and me combinant

she turns from the bay-view,
the animals who now mutually
worship her adoration,
watching, focused on us as observers,
she lifts me up and smiles,
replying

“oh my lover you’re the cad of cads,
king of the baddest poet-lads,
the gist of what is wrong with the best of men,
her, pressing me hard to her chestnut hair chest,
she, falling down into my eyes

take me back to bed, liar,
let me add to my aroma,
to ensue, to ensure you will miss
the best love
you had partly, insufficiently, and unhinged
completely

I’m your lassie, you my lad,
my king of cads, my lover poet,
thief of my poems and my secret speech spells,
escalating senses of one’s imaginings”


and,
along came the rest
of what was freely given,
for love between poets
man and
a woman,
is a someone, somewhere,
sometime summertime
thing

I will still smell you in my
heart, and send to you ballistic missives,
words to explode your tear ducts
when you rest in sheets that met me,
when you’ll know me by my odors,
cry out loud so that you’ll scare our animals,
no matter how many tides wash away our residue,
you will never unknow and be forever unprepared
for my return,


even though we will be each, a thousand unwritten poems away...
Tryst Jul 2018
And like a bride when all the guests had flown –
Unto her Quarter Master, veil upraised
And corsage strewn atop her lily gown,
The ****** MOON stood humble and unphased

A boon of SUN's light nestled in her tresses,
And HEAVEN's gift, bright star-born chandeliers –
COUTURIER, The Wind, bestowed caresses –
CENTAURUS brought an honour guard of spears

The MOON, her dimples pale, her mood unblemished,
Fell silent as a petal on a flower –
Her slender frame looked ever the more diminished
And wanton as she lay upon her bower

She watched the constellations rearranging
To mark this passing day across the skies,
And full aware that things were ever changing
The MOON laid down her guard and closed her eyes.
Alan McClure Oct 2013
Grim grey day
starts in the dark,
grumbles, glowers
shoulders hunched
Everyone in bitter agreement -
"Miserable!"
Rain driven against windows,
streaming pavements,
shoe-squelched curses
cast at baleful sky.

Travelling home at last,
raincoat defeated
tricklebacked discomfort,
Windscreen wipers ten to the dozen
under sopping sorrowful trees,
headlights strobing relentless rain

And -

Those aren't leaves.
What are they?
Tumbling across the road,
crisscrossing parabolas
of peculiar joy

Frogs!

I stop:
I have to.
The night is alive
with manic delight
as secret creatures fling caution to the wind
and bound into sight,
into frantic celebration,
unphased by cars, by foolish bipeds
who thought this planet was theirs -

Open mouthed and uninvited
I gaze, displaced and foolish
for not knowing
It is,
it is the most beautiful night
that could possibly be imagined.
Montana May 2013
He veers to the left when he walks
in and out of lives
up and down city streets.
His gait clumsy
and haphazard
bumping passersby
and knocking glasses off tables.
Slack jawed stares and
excited whispers;
unphased
unwavering
steady in his unsteadiness.
He meanders down alleyways;
breaking hearts
and preconceived notions about
what a vagabond should
or shouldn’t be.
"There is an appointed time for everything, /
A time for every activity /
under the heavens;" /
—Ecclesiastes 3: 1 (NWTSE) /

A season has departed, /
A season has begun, /
The Circle of Life continues, /
A legacy remains undone. /

The gauntlets I have transcended, /
Have diamonded my soul; /
Therefore, I offer this solemn petition /
Knowing the fight remains to be won. /

In time, there will be tribulations /
But this heart stands adamantine, /
These eyes remain dauntless, /
My spirit is forevermore unphased. /

A time of self- (re) discovery /
Has burgeoned anew, /
We will all metamorphose /
If we look to the future bemused. /

Your potentialities are enormous; /
Together, we are a fulgurant storm. /
Rise, rise, young stalwarts /
You are a Spark of The Divine. /

The experiential cascade is perpetual, /
Incessantly persevere, /
May wisdom inhabit each one of us, /
May we each forsake not to love. /

A chrysalis has unraveled /
Diaphanous wings have been borne, /
Doubt not inviolable beauty /
Always, abides in the light. /

(—Se' lah)


07-18-2021
Excelsior Forevermore,


Sanders Maurice Foulke III, AAS
J J Aug 2023
orgiastic blurring within breadth of tiny movements
(Angelic cheekbones that cut thru the dark) miracles come untangled  --presented follower--
i lay with ur head on my chest awaiting the command of ur words
  u will never know me i'll never let u know me
i loved u far too early  too early to tell but i know the feeling well
i never wanted to say it leaving u the first time
but i knew it was true
made it to my train in a hurry
i'd've looked anyone in the eye bar u
head still pointed high
Rattling in my chair homeward-bound with a smile

i'm not ashamed i was never ashamed maybe nervous maybe ashamed later on for giving it another chance then another chance but i knew the outcome before going back
O but that's another story another time

  i held ur hand in ur street
i held ur hand in my city
and nothing else belonged  
but us
two kisses
two drinks between us yet sooo drunk
  but we just never seemed to last for one thing or another
i don't do relationships i just get ****** over and i'm used  to it
  by now i'm long used to it,

i've got blisters where your fingerprints once rested  
but they're gone now along with you
O boy i'm so blue

bohhhii am so bluuuuuu

  text me so i don't have to text u again

boy ur so conceited boy ur so soft
boy i saved u some trouble i'm not open to no one
i should've told u one heartbreak was enough  
but boy i'm glad i didn't
  i got what i wanted guess i'm selfish like ur selfish
and we'll never be friends
  u were never my friend

   in our silence i can be everything u wanted me to be
  and just keep to myself and stay unphased

ur on my mind everyday
if we were on speaking terms maybe i'd say
But i can never stay straight and u never have a good enough reason to stay.
so funny how things play out.
Thank **** the love was never mutual
Thank **** we can leave it at memories
You meant more than I could ever say...

love u now then and forever always

sometimes i wish i never saw ur face

making promises just to pass the time

We both know We'll never be together **
Comme des garçon
Russell C Neal Aug 2013
I am surrounded by tornadoes
Trying to **** the life out of me
Twisting and bending my words at their will
Trying to rip me apart
But...
I stand firm
Like a concrete pillar under a thick slab of deck for a bridge
Reinforced with steel bars
I am immovable.
As the tornadoes keep coming
Year after year
One would think that I'd begin to weaken
No...
I stand firm...
Unphased
My mind and soul can't be broken
For I am a solid beam
A beam of light and hope
Showing others
You are stronger than any tornado
Persevere
Live
Love
Life
stephanie Jun 2014
i put these words in my mouth
only for them to be
****** back up into
the vacuum of my mind
that's already full
with things that went without
saying.

there will come a day;
when i take these words and line
them up from the tip of my tongue
to the end of my spine
coated with a substance that
is tear-free.
those words will shoot out like bullets,
and those bullets will go into the ear of
all those i said i loved
and all those i said i hated
and they'll go straight out their other ear.
always completely unphased with
words that could change our lives.
these words;
matter.

some words could fill up the sun
while others could fill up a blade of
grass,
that blade of grass will barely
***** their thoughts
while the sun will go completely
unnoticed.
because,
who really talks about the sun anymore?
and that is why,
the unimportant words,
the ones that are never true,
could be the moon.
the moon is the grand architect
feel her pull in high tide
             feel her push when unsure
  on dark nights
  in urban scapes
   surrounded by artificial light

she still shines through
her blueprints are mystery
especially when ideas are new
   she is a slow reveal
     an inspired temptress
                    lean into this
press fingers into her curves

as she undresses
visibility is not always the goal
but when light reflects
it is inevitable

while we question her cycles
she is not afraid of the rebuild
       the versions we hold of each other
       died many moons ago
NicoleRuth Apr 2017
The hardest part of your death
Was not the muchness you took away
Rather,
How easily life went on

The sun still rose sharp at 4 like always
The trains rattling away on time
The birds singing the same old songs like yesterday

Strange isn’t it?

Nothing has changed.
Nothing paled now that you’re gone
Life, my life, kept moving forward
It’s steady pace terrifyingly normal

Just a shadow of you seemed to remain
Locked deep within the lost sea of my soul
Your memories, that stupid smile, Forgotten

The world moved on.

Unchanged by the suddenness of your passing
Unphased by the hole you left behind
In my shockingly unstable soul
A place you once called home

A home now dusty and empty
In an endless eternity of waiting
Waiting…
Forever waiting….
Jules May 2017
Songs run through my head
playing on shuffle
sweet melodies
to dark songs of sorrow
songs with the power stick
in a overflowing overemotional mind

songs run through my head
singing all day
and all night
happy songs
sad songs
with the power to change me

songs run through my head
unphased, unaffected by everything
else happening in my brain

When the facts are forgotten
the songs remain
when nothing else is there
the songs stay

The songs save me
Music means so much to me. I don't know what id do without it.
CommonStory Apr 2014
Alcohol only understands alcoholics
**** for stoners
power for politics
dark knights for the jokers
I casually forget
that I casually forget
What reason to resent
connect to the tempt
let it rip like a blade through the skin
unphased by the sin
An abysmal of interest
still bewildered by abashed movements and contemptment
plaugues by immortal sins
of mortal men
we are only equal by the hierarchy we rule by
actions and reactions do or die
unpleasent motives inflicted pain by mere touch
I trust my eyes are clouded by the logic in my mind
Shift to an undisposable appetite
set a riot after night
Excuse my Vocalization
take it how i meant it understand Veberalization
I am a ***** man
look at my ***** hands
Dull minds
Dull minds
Take your influence
make your influence
reality checks save lives
end lives with escapism
Uncaged birds with clipped wings
Freedom just isn't free
I am at your mercy
No matter how diabolical it can be
Antino Art May 2019
If my heart was drawn on paper,
it would never fall apart.

I'd hang it on the refrigerator
like my daughter's works of art.

Though it bends
and crumples over time,
it cannot be erased.

    Where real hearts are heavy,
this one would be weightless
    folding easily into pockets
    like money
for betting
    
    win or loose,
    it unfolds unphased.

This is child-like thinking.

    If my heart was drawn on paper

it would rip, break
I would throw it
in every direction
until it went missing

They'd return it to me
deformed,
no longer the drawing
I made
when we were just kids
K i s s i n g

I'd barely recognize it.

1 2 3 4
I delcare love a war.

So I'll make myself
a new drawing
and let go
of the past.

I'll leave the missing pieces
where they are,
with who I am
intact.

I'll pretend nothing is broken
and that my heart on paper
is meant to last.

This is childish thinking.

Still, I'll pick up the pieces
and start over
as my drawing goes up
in flames I'll rise above

Though the heart on paper
burns to ashes,
in the embers
I'll find new love.
You will have to excuse me if I show off
You will have to excuse me if I’m blunt
After years of being push around
Heart aches and let downs
Excuse me if I choose not to be in the back
But live in the For front

Excuse me if I come off strong
After years of being put down
Backed into a corner. Theirs hands around my neck. Forced not to talk or breath
I wasn’t in fear but thoughts were you just wait till I get what I need. I will Be Free

So excuse me if I come off fearless, bold and unphased.
I’m just living life and overcoming and the suffering phase

Now my voice mighty and loud
Bursting through every door. Im coming back for everything that god had behind those doors.

Im claiming back my power
I have discovered a Queen
I’m focus on greatness and my destiny
with fire blazing around me, pheniox has to be seen
So if you see me coming, you will have to excuse me
Pheniox rising from the ashes. She will either ignite a fire within you or burn you. If I come off the wrong way, you will have to excuse me.
Shawn Adams Aug 2016
You couldn't blame me
if you
Could see her
Take everything I own
Set it ablaze
Taking for granted the very Foundation
Of the structure
Of my life,
Why?
Because her face
Is beyond the will of any god to change.
Her mouth conveys
The mind of an unknown Goddess
Beyond reach
Beyond reason
Beyond the repercussions of such
treason.
Beyond.
Her hands electromagnetic
Body beyond ecstasy
Overdose on her  
So called flaws
And imperfect complexity
Out of reach
Fires would have to be set
Lives ruined
Chains people depend on
Broken at their feet
It's not fair
For anyone
But her hands are electromagnetic
Her voice
Hypnotic
Her smile
Unbearable
Raw
     Excruciating
Attraction
Life altering
Magic
      In her
      Gaze
I awaken everyday
Unphased by the obstacles
Life has placed between us
This is unhealthy
      I know
But there is
Something I can't explain
Just underneath
The subtlety of her
Words.
Something beyond me
gf Apr 2014
I don't know why I bother
thinking of someone
who doesn't even think of me.

I remind myself of this at night,
when I think about how it would feel
for him to text me something dumb,
like a good night text, or some
stupid existential question when he's high.
I remind myself of this when
my phone stays silent throughout the night.

I remind myself of this in the day,
when someone says something stupid in class
and he laughs so hard that he goes red-faced,
and smiles so hard that it touches his eyes.

I remind myself of this when
he mentions his girl in casual conversation,
and how he looks happy when he says it.
I remind myself to look unphased.
I remind myself to carry on.

I remind myself that there will
be no good night texts, or existential ramblings.
I remind myself that I shouldn't
look at him when the whole class laughs.
I remind myself that he's happy with her.
I remind myself that I was never seen.
The Calm Jul 2018
Holy Holy is The Lord God almighty
We stand together to sing His praise
You say you love Him, but to me I'm amazed
That you can Love God but sin against your brother,
and remain totally unphased
I can write essays about how you sit and dispraise
the opinions of  your brothers and sisters
Or sit silently with uncomfortability in your gaze
Your lack of care to the matter is unsettling, it begins to abrase
at my love for you all, it sets me ablaze
The Lord you love spoke to the woman at the well
but when you talk to me, I don't always feel as if you mean well
I'm not calling you a racist, but your uncomfortability shows
That you want diversity, without discussing adversitiy
or seeing that still the cold winds of your ancestors blows
You hide behind the politics of your mom and your dad
Trump got elected, you couldn't say you were glad
Because people in your fellowship hurt, and that's always bad
but at home there's excitement, tax dollars to be had.
you hide behind your politics. I hide behind my God,
you hide behind your privilege, I will call you a fraud
I am hungry, didn't feed me
Chained, you didn't free me
But you serve a God of the oppressed
I am thankful that He won't say that you didn't see me.
Church hurt is the worst hurt..."God fearing people" Putting politics over god, putting America over God, putting the the people of God below American values. looking at a person's papers over the God that loves them. It's deep, a "God fearing nation"....
My brain ticks with a different kind of vigor
My brain licks at time, tasting new flavor
My brain thirsts for what isn't mine, nor my neighbours
My brain bursts at the dreams by a prickly Jailor.

Hail her, she mounts the mountains in attempts to see thee.
Completely unphased by the fountains that writhe beneath me.
I turn my back in revenge, revenge that bleeds me,
Dry of my vigor, dry of my fire for I am clay. See?

Mould me she said, with eyes deeper than gold strewn caverns in the beyond.
They perplex me, so, oh, so greatly they vex me, they stress me of concern.
I burn, nay, I am clay, so I yearn for this. Fair lady may I ask for one last kiss?
In my stead she kissed a statue instead, and left a mark, a deep copper red.

Goodbye she said, and she left the statue be, till the earth caved in, and so did the sea.
I cannot tell you how, or even of when. Or of when, or even of how can I not tell you?
Wow, I can tell you I saw a sky blue.
Or black, after Jailor's attack. Halt!

Stop dreaming! Oh please, do stop it henceforth!
I am mightily weary, must make trip to the north.
Lonely I have been, for you have not been.
So wake up and walk with that lop-sided grin.
Oh, what a tiresome companion you are,
Since I have made haste to journey thus far,
With you left behind after I had begun,
So pick up those feet, and away wierdy one.

Off we went, with my dreams in tow.
Whether I will have chance to taste them, I do not know...
But I know one thing, a something so grand.
When I next feel weary and dreary of hand,
I shall await to journey, that dreamer's land.
I wrote this on February 23rd, of 2011.

Five years, eh?

Yeah... five years.
Somehow, I'm learning to be a poet all over again.
Jeez.

LOL
Carina Treitl Aug 2010
Boy
Did you distract me?
Did I always know?
Did you take it from me?
Did I just let it go?
Did you tear it into pieces?
Did I watch you unphased?
Did you walk away?
Did I wish you my best?

Did you even reply?
Did I shed any tears?
Did you ever care?
Did I lie all these years?
Did you see my face?
Did I remember your name?
Did you toy with me?
Did I play your game?
Cece Sep 2012
I sit
and appear
unphased;

I love
the way
you see
right
through
my act.

          Truthfully,
                      we both know
                                  my heart melts

                                                          when you call me

                                                                        your little duckling.
Rachael Dec 2020
the world is on fire,
but i am at peace.
the situation's dire,
and this year was so bleak.
who knows what twenty one
will have in store?
will this virus be done?
will we go to war?
whatever awaits,
i'll be so okay,
passively accept fate
'cause i am unphased
by trudging though days
that are just as grey
as those filled with rage,
as those filled with pain,
that always lit my way.
C B Heath Jan 2014
To keep a routine, that's the thing,
that's what keeps it at bay. But
is that not just playing a game -
the shaving, the brushing, the toenail-
trimming every four weeks?
I think depression is no more
than the sudden dropping of pretence.
You keep up your image, because
that is what works, and then when
you should be at your happiest, it comes
like meteors come - not with the cold
efficiency of a mechanical bird,
but like the damning hellfire
of a heavenly body curved off-path.
Say you are going for a walk,
and it is Spring, and say your
love-of-the-moment is a short
distance away, as silent as peace
because she knows how you can get.
Say it is the first bright day,
but still chilly - the moon, having
been on a binge all night, holds
a silent tune so blissfully, a
dog whistle in the deep blue, and say
the fields are endless sheathes,
the crosshatch reeds of farmed corn
forming a mosaic riddle on the ever-
stubborn mud, and there are ghostly
rainbows in the hidden puddles,
and it is joyful unlike anything,
and there's the feeling of being lost
as a child is, comfortably lost, unphased
and focused only on the patch of
ground in front - the only patch
that is, not a patch on what's behind.
And say you feel a smile arrive
and you feel too clean, if anything,
too new and looked after, like a baby,
and just as quick you think: this is not the idea,
this is not my retirement, how dare I pretend
I deserve a moonlit walk in the middle
of the day, how dare I play this game?
What next? Will I drink the sun?
Laura Mankowski Apr 2014
BFF
Today I realized I met you 4 years ago.
The exact date was sometime last week, and I wanted to check but I've burned everything you've given me.
Yes, the book went first.
One day you'll go online and see all the loving things I wrote about you, I've changed to hate.
That's not maturity.
(Neither was the fire really)
Ask me if I care.
That I haven't changed them,
Isn't forgiveness.
If you find it all, it'll break your heart.
At one time, not so long ago, that would have killed me.
Now I feel.... unphased, unbothered, uninterested.
You're just a memory who's clarity fades in and out along with my fondness.
This appears to be a lot of anger, a lot of hurt and bitterness.
So tell me,
Why does "Beast of Burden" bring me to my knees? Take my breath away? Break my heart all over again?
I've perfected *****.
Now I'd like to learn healing.
C Davis Feb 2015
Illiterally
The letter 'A'
Is type O Positive

and wraps 'round my ankle
at midday.

So many words for
Me.
So few for them.

I,
like a chimney
Send fire from base up
Higher to the place
Where the ashes erupt

in the sky.

I stain my
Insides.

He like a soldier stands
Tall and unphased.

Window print silhouette.

It vibrates, my gaze,
Sends moonbeams through space

and somehow I reach him.

Refresh the haze.
Danger is as dangerous,
Only dangerous as
the place.
I'm not so casual
As I seem,

my mind is bursting at the seams.
ili Jul 2014
it's three in the morning and
for the first time in so long,
the silence that rings in my ears doesn't remind me to think of you.
hours ago, i wondered when I would stop thinking-
when I would stop thinking of you.
yet now I feel strong.
now i feel like I could spend
three seconds, minutes, hours
being tortured by the silence and I'd be unphased.
I'd be unaware of you.
Kelly Michelle Jan 2013
So my name was "Waztaeat",
And now its "whereyoubeen"!?

But the only crazy part???
I kept answerin!

I'd move idly through each my days.
Respond atomatically, seeming unphased.

But under this calm outward facade.
Braced for indignities, my soul quietly raged.

"Don't lie! Don't lie!
You hate this!", she'd shout.

"Stop allowing this nonsense.
Or you'll never come out."

"Of this crazy, wackadoo loop...
I'm your soul! The only you get!"

"Take your stand NOW kiddo!
Or you soon may forget.."

"Your whole point and purpose..
For this life; move and breath free."

"Through boundless open spaces..
Gleening truth, seeing you see me.."
Emma Katka May 2018
unlearning
to not be jealous
I wanna be happy for your success
I wanna have your back
I want you to have mine
unlearning
to not assume your attitude
unlearning
to not assume that you're assuming mine
unlearning
after learning cruelty all this time
I'm not competing
I'm daydreaming
I'm generally unphased
I go my own way
I’m happy for you, girl
go take on the world
King Panda Feb 2019
I shaped you like a door handle,
washed you out with cerulean trees,
I took the clippers to my head
to make myself clean

I stared in your sigh as I
I grabbed your waist and swung you in
rope coo-coo,
eyes you described as muddy pools
turned lime-green cats in bathroom light
there,

you had blond hair,
barely-visible eyelashes,
tall, norwegian beauty,
outer-universe olympian

I was not right within and
you saw, unphased moon again
for the billionth time,
you rolled at my tiny bubbles
and I
waited, baitable breath

every clock was digital 80’s
and you, polite queen,
were tired of holding your spoon—
candy bride

with this candy man,
little bride, little
my worms festered
as I pulled the hair from your neck
and saw my own eye on your spine’s skin—
frail, too deep, and shy/additives to pain

I heard the big crunch
in that mental hospital bathroom,
my universe went back to no-space,
so far from you as we danced
and you looked somewhere else—
much

smaller than an atom’s nucleus
we were everything
but neither of us knew
the gift of dying
to be born again—

— The End —