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"unphased" poems
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
0
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 1:55 AM UTC
I Brought A One Way Ticket
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.
0
Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 12:06 AM UTC
Stuck
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...
0
Jul 13, 2019
Jul 13, 2019 at 11:07 AM UTC
love between poets: “who will be between the sheets next week
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...
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69
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.
0
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 2:18 AM UTC
The ****** Moon
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.
0
Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 8:24 AM UTC
Road Blocked by Frogs
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.
0
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 1:55 PM UTC
Vagabond
"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
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Jul 18, 2021
Jul 18, 2021 at 4:47 PM UTC
Vicissitudes of Life (XXIX) (Originally written on Sunday, July 18th, 2021)
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
0
Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 2:33 PM UTC
Tornado Proof
⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING: Themes of ****** Assault ⚠️ They told me I should be grateful, As if pain is a prize for the taking. “Was she hot?” they laughed, Unaware of the soul they were breaking. A man, they say, can’t be a victim, Not of this—not of her. “You got lucky,” they grin, While my mind’s a blur. It wasn’t luck when my breath froze still, When my voice was stolen, against my will. But the world looks at me, unphased, unkind, As if my torment lives only in my mind. They tell me men are made of stone, That we can’t be broken, can’t be owned. But when darkness fell, she carved her claim, And left me drowning in silent shame. “It’s not the same,” they smugly say, “Don’t act like a girl; you’ll be okay.” But it wasn’t a conquest, wasn’t a score— It was a theft that echoes evermore. How do I mourn what I’m told is gain? How do I heal when they mock my pain? This isn’t a badge, no victory here, Just the soundless weight of my deepest fear. Because no one sees the scars we bear, When society’s laughter fills the air. But I’ll whisper truth into the night A man can hurt, that’s my fight. I’ll shatter the silence, reclaim my right— A man’s pain burns just as bright.
0
Aug 26, 2025
Aug 26, 2025 at 10:53 PM UTC
The Weight of Mockery
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.
0
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 11:24 PM UTC
bullets
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….
0
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 11:50 PM UTC
Life Goes On...
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
0
Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 11:23 AM UTC
Excuse Me
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
0
May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 9:36 AM UTC
Songs Inside
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
0
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 7:23 PM UTC
Diabolical Mercy
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.
0
May 26, 2019
May 26, 2019 at 11:29 PM UTC
Paper Heart Project
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.
0
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 10:03 PM UTC
The Taste of Blood
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
0
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 4:57 PM UTC
Woman
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.
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Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 11:46 AM UTC
Open letter to the loving oppressor
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.
0
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 9:30 PM UTC
BFF
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.
0
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 11:58 PM UTC
Jailor of Dreams...
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.
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29
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.
0
Dec 8, 2020
Dec 8, 2020 at 9:23 PM UTC
peace
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?
0
Aug 20, 2010
Aug 20, 2010 at 3:24 AM UTC
Boy
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.
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Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 4:30 AM UTC
Diary in Code
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.
0
Sep 18, 2012
Sep 18, 2012 at 11:43 PM UTC
Truth Be Told