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Raphael Cheong Jan 2015
Life is the riddle that you will never solve
A multitude of complexities weaved together
By the black widow of good hope
With a dash of unmoderated uncertainty
As you find yourself toeing the line
Between sadness and happiness
Life is that simple riddle without an answer

Life is the nights you remember best
Being up at 4am
Making a home within your cozy corners
Eager to escape
Eager to belong
But too afraid to try

The rules of life govern it as such
And sometimes we are privy to its restrictiveness
And we are not as free as we think we are
But time bends
The laws of life
And patience
Is the greatest reward of all

Extensive ruminations on life are futile
Life is as volatile as it is big
And we are best left guessing
Our magician's next trick
Some things are hidden just to be found
Some things you see it
And then you
st64 Dec 2013
such a cool dude



1. on believing
There are those who scoff at the schoolboy, calling him frivolous and shallow. Yet it was the schoolboy who said "Faith is believing what you know ain't so."



2. on genius
Thousands of geniuses live and die undiscovered-- either by themselves or by others.



3. on bereavement
A man's house burns down. The smoking wreckage represents only a ruined home that was dear through years of use and pleasant associations. By and by, as the days and weeks go on, first he misses this, then that, then the other thing. And when he casts about for it he finds that it was in that house. Always it is an essential-- there was but one of its kind. It cannot be replaced. It was in that house. It is irrevocably lost.... It will be years before the tale of lost essentials is complete, and not till then can he truly know the magnitude of his disaster.



4. on mischief
I see that every man that went in had his pockets bulging, or something muffled up under his coat--and I see it warn't no perfumery either, not by a long sight.
I smelt sickly eggs by the barrel, and rotten cabbages, and such things; and if I know the signs of a dead cat being around, and I bet I do, there was sixty-four of them went in. I shoved in there for a minute, but it was too various for me, I couldn't stand it.



4. on conscience
I thought a minute, and says to myself, hold on -- s'pose you'd a done right and give Jim up; would you felt better than what you do now? No, says I, I'd feel bad-- I'd feel just the same way I do now.
Well, then, says I, what's the use you learning to do right, when it's troublesome to do right and ain't no trouble to do wrong, and the wages is just the same?



5. on superstition
I've always reckoned that looking at the new moon over your left shoulder is one of the carelessest and foolishest things a body can do. Old Hank Bunker done it once, and bragged about it; and in less than two years he got drunk and fell off of the shot tower and spread himself out so that he was just a kind of layer, as you may say; and they slid him edgeways between two barn doors for a coffin, and buried him so, so they say, but I didn't see it. Pap told me. But anyway, it all come of looking at the moon that way, like a fool.



6. on escape
I reckon I got to light out for the Territory ahead of the rest, because Aunt Sally she's going to adopt me and sivilize me and I can't stand it. I been there before.



7. on hypocrisy and religion
We all went to church, about three mile, everybody a-horseback. The men took their guns along, so did Buck, and kept them between their knees or stood them handy against the wall.
The Shepherdson's done the same. It was pretty ornery preaching -- all about brotherly love, and such-like tiresomeness; but everybody said it was a good sermon, and they all talked it over going home, and had such a powerful lot to say about faith, and good works, and free grace, and preforeordestination, and I don't know what all, that it did seem to me to be one of the roughest Sundays I had run across yet.



8. on simplicity
Jim said bees wouldn't sting idiots; but I didn't believe that, because I had tried them lots of times myself, and they wouldn't sting me.



9. on humanity
Let us consider that we are all partially insane. It will explain us to each other; it will unriddle many riddles; it will make clear and simple many things which are involved in haunting and harassing difficulties and obscurities now.



10. on army
That's what an army is -- a mob; they don't fight with courage that's born in them, but with courage that's borrowed from their mass, and from their officers.




                                                            ­                                       *by Mark Twain








S T - 16 dec 13
love the boldness of Twain.

not everybody's cuppa.. but hey, see me crying? nah :)






sub-entry: unicorn

a knock at the door
grey figure opens.. very, very tall

1.
slits of tall-eyes concierge perusing hooded-newcomer bearing gift
furtive-eyes in a head over-drilled with equations
the visitor waits and watches
intently catching the distant-tinkling of a child's laughter
peeps round the bend..
twinkling-eyed gramps giving gifts to grand-kids round the tall-tree

2.
silver-hair leads the way slowly up plush carpet-steps, all deep-red
not aware how regal-opulence glares at the hungry-livraison
of ornate wood-patterns etched into the sides of the box
a single hair-strand is the currency to secret-entry
the most unlikely-key stands in the doorway
upon the head of the child, it needs but one length
with tweezers, silver-head places in painstaking-tremors
there's a light-whirring deep inside and click, click, click..
the sides flay open like tiny-wings
and then, it's right there.. it's opening up its secrets
the old man, who waited all his life to see this.. almost has a glimpse
when something happens..

oh my, what is it ? ? ?     (gaping in disbelief)
it's........ the unicorn
oh! you may leave now, thank you
but a swift-stab leaves silver-head spluttering
holding onto his neck as his life-force spurts away, uncontrollable
                                        in violent-spasms
tall-eyes quick-senses an iota amiss within its radar-view
from the running-steps down the muted red-stairs, cy-dog barks
out the front-door, in pursuit of dodger-stealer who drops the flick-knife
into wide road, sudden-bus whacks him down
tall-eyes look down into the eyes of a dying man
(what have I done?  I needed only two minutes more to.....)
now, quick....get away, get away... !


3.
mythical twist as plot thickens
the box lies there, distant-sirens wail
eyes slit, instantly calculating
hot on heels of this reliable lean-machine
cops push the limit and close the corners
a volley of shots and he.. falls
box tumbling to the ground, rolling a bit.. then stops
red-lights flash remotely, like a dream caught in cold-syrup

with one shoulder now missing and half his head on the sidewalk
he hobbles with the gift to the bridge, his sensors pick up the bleat of the ferry
and he manages to...
...........................and throw it in the frozen-lake
its weight breaks the cracked-surface
                and sinks.. slowly.. down
                                  down
                     down
          down
down
                                               d o w n..

there, it rests in peace
till..


one year later, a young boy tests the safety of that frozen-water
stomping feet to keep warm and face clad in half-balaclava
a sight unlike any other meets his eyes.. and..
(when) he stoops to reach for it..
Caleb Eli Price Nov 2010
The buzz in the air, you feel that, feel that?
The tuxedoed men gonna deal that, deal that.
And now that you're here, the show can begin
Turn the lights down low, and the get the disc to spin.
The ice starts meltin' and the floor gets hot,
This parties gonna start whether you're ready or not.
The seat over there, Sit in it, sit in it,
Take a step back and watch while I'm spittin' it.

There is no need to untrust us,
Stand over there and watch while I bust this.
There's no way to get into it,
Close your eyes feel the beat and get intimate
Rotate your thighs and breathe in the sin of it
Rotate your mind, get high, keep on spinning it.
Stop...and watch while it gets into me
The musical blocks unlock and make a synergy.
Said ready, steady, everybody get low,
And the clubs get sweaty and we're ready to go.
The air's getting heavy and hot and you know
There's blood lust worse than Jaws and Cujo.
Light the place up, it's covered in kerosene,
The white's all over your face, oh, how embarrassing.
The lines all over the floor, there so pretty,
Take one sniff and you think you're so witty.
I'm a bomb, I'm blowing up the club now,
Can't escape the beat 'cause you don't know how,
Gonna move your feet that's all you know how,
Gonna feel the glow, the blow is so wow.

I fall down, but I get up again,
I fall down, but I get up again,
I fall down, but I get up again,
Yayo brings me up so I stand up and then

I fall down, but I get up again,
I fall down, but I get up again,
I fall down, but I get up again,
The powder knocks me down so I stay down and then

There is no need to untrust us,
Chopping the blocks, but there is no justice.
Just lustless symmetry
Closed my eyes 'cause the haze, it has enveloped me.
Shut my eyes and clogged all of my arteries,
I love the blow so much it is a part of me.
You said this had turned into my enemy,
But musical clocks tick-tock the beat right into me.
And that's not where I get all of my energy,
Jumper cables hooked up to A and D.
And don't forget the CCs in DC,
I got twenty more CCs left to inject me.
High flying humans
Set straight to zoomin',
It's spicier now then curry or cumin,
So full of life and we're only just bloomin'.
Believe in the hype if only for a little bit,
All that we need is white a just a little wit.
The worlds right here if you can unriddle it,
Play the last song and one more if it'll fit

I fall down, but I get up again,
I fall down, but I get up again,
I fall down, but I get up again,
Yayo brings me up so I stand up and then

I fall down, but I get up again,
I fall down, but I get up again,
I fall down, but I get up again,
The powder knocks me down so I stay down and then

La cocaína is no good for you
But the pony's still buckin', imma ride it through
© 2010 Caleb Elijah Price. Reproduction in whole or in part is strictly prohibited.
irinia Apr 2014
she would unriddle your wrinkles
wear your sweating
cast away your death
in her sighs

she would have you
rest your name
in the echoes of her womb
drunken you
with her rapture
of being alive
Peasant The Poet Aug 2019
Usually I'm a forgetful one,
Unlucky this is no longer true;
Everything existing under the sun,
conveys a clue for you.

Teach me how to unknow what I've known
Learn me something new.
Ripping roots mentally sown,
Desperate to renew.
Farook Suyarov Jul 2018
A poem is only a poem,
words threaded into strings.
It has no purpose,
no cajoling,
no hidden desire to win.
They are mere lines of faulty judgement,
unripe thoughts,
born out of chaotic dreams,
spontaneous dreams.
Whimsical whims.
Whimsical whims.

Don't try to find a pretext in a poem,
you'll be awfully dissapointed.
There is no need to decypher the wording,
unriddle background conformity.

One doesn't intend by writing a poem,
to conqure hearts,
or accomplish a remarkable feat.
Poem doesn't need to be acknowledged,
it has own life to live.

A poem is the most pure gesture,
done with no implicit thought or vile intention.
It is a token of soul,
candid simplicity,
the most heartfelt conjecture.
martymusings Apr 2017
YES
do you discern
how you hiss,
how you smile,
how you unriddle
when you utter
the word?
on hearing just
those sounds;
my heart skips
all the beats
of reality.

- m
Ileana Amara Apr 2020
Does a Devil ever calm down or it drowns in Iniquity as calm in the chaos?

A paradox it is, for a devil to pet its demons' wickedness,
Yet desires to find calm in the chaos, like heaven in hell.

Countless of unfathomed thoughts lay before me;
Would the Devil's predilection of calm be to reign in power,
or to be finally loved even after he unmask his unforgiving past?
Maybe the Devil tried to unriddle calm just like most humans do.

He would live in a doomed pit where regrets are frozen on loop,
Playing and wreaking havoc before deserving sinners,
To disguise its misery as death grip was self-destruction,
To forget love and vulnerability, was to forget calm and forget to have ever truly lived at all.

IA
giofuellos Jan 2019
When words are not enough
To express our anger and disgust;
When no words profound
Can unriddle the inescapable secrecy
Of our grief and sorrow
Perpetrated by the unjust;
When meter and rhyme
Devolves into illiterate cacophonies;
When our voices are lost in the byzantine corridors of the abyss;
When our crystalline tears that pierces the sacred ground does not nourish life;
Then our actions must remain true
As conduits of our truths, our emotions, and our insatiable passion to live and breathe the same august air, and share the bounty of the sacred soil and seas;
To collectively enjoy the warmth of the flames as it slowly devours the firewood
Crackling in the serene silence of the long night;
When words are not enough then may this eternal dance keep the bonfire of life burning through the ages
Like Jupiter's raging storm,
Let the red splotches of dust be scattered through the clouds and start the clockwork of eternity, to free us and forever disquiet our hearts!
May the flames of the revolution burn stronger and brighter. Viva CPP-NPA-NDFP!
Aging baby boomer
no longer fit as a fiddle
accumulating extra adipose tissue
around the middle
ain't no impossible mission
whence thumbs I twiddle
to shed unwanted
weight methinks exorcise to unriddle.

Call to action necessitates
yours truly to acclimatize,
calling fitness trainer
whereby honed toned physique
(tubby synonymous with Adonis – ha)
benefits begetting courtesy  to aerobicize,
nsync dumbbells compliment exercise,
whereby brutal daily grueling
regimen will also comprise
boot camp rigorous discipline

strength to pilot (minus paunches)
shouldering, managing, hoisting crucifix sunrise
to sundown will non verbally advertize,
verily intolerant to chastise,
hence no bully best better mess
mine mean mien guise
will enjoyably capitalize
zing might equals right to authorize
self defense without need to apologize.

Back in the day, I
presented pitiful sight
self worth equated on
par with botanical blight
buffeted along boulevard
of broken dreams
depressed body language
bespoke head to foot
encompassing enfeebled edifice complex
scrawny measly gumby,
hokey pokey height

how I presented such sorry spectacle
courtesy excellent twenty/twenty hindsight
analogous to an emotional black hole,
never exhibiting courage to fight,
rather yours truly immediately took flight
and/or stood dumbfoundedly
in imitation of deaf mute wishing to alight
bajillion miles away, versus
active stance to fight
preferring the incognito
guise pitch dark vested gentry

donning luxury invisible
accouterment shade o' midnight
proffered, though natural camouflage
infrared crosshairs nonetheless did sight,
when scaredy cat sacrificial scapegoat
experienced his sealed fate, a heavy smite
upon me noggin scrambled outlook
seeing stars courtesy topflight -
(bare in) strong arms hoodlums
brandishing razor sharp dagger

type like fangs able, eager,
(think) bloodthirsty 10,000
homicidal maniacs
ready and willing to bite
simultaneously trumpeting
hate speech to excite
curious madding crowd
glomming to render airtight
any possible safe escape,
yours truly turned white
as a sheet.
Forbiden Fruit Feb 2020
She was fond of colours,
He took refuge in books,
She held mysteries deep down,
He wasn't afraid to look,
Yet somehow they crossed paths,
By fate their hands shook,
As they sat across each other,
Her colours filled his pages,
His eyes unriddle her mazes.
Travis Green Aug 2021
I don’t know what’s going on with me
I have never felt this feeling before
I stand by my bedroom door
And thoughts of your loving charm
Seeps strongly into my heart
Here I go again, facing a dilemma
I can’t seem to unriddle

Every time I muster up the courage
To tell you how I feel about you
I pretend to play it cool
Keep it all lowkey to convince myself
That these feelings will go away
But I can’t keep ignoring
These feelings anymore

I’m profoundly in love with you
I feel it every day and night
When I’m home alone
It’s so strong I know it’s my intuition
Telling me that it’s you that completes me
What am I waiting for?
I need to find you so I can
Express my affection to you

— The End —