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"unspoke" poems
Tripped up, halting words Of unspoke feelings, unsure, Deaf, snoring, unheard.
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Feb 4, 2012
Feb 4, 2012 at 12:30 PM UTC
UNHEARD
***I was lost on the pavement Along the corridors Who left me unspoke through the scattered bloods That left me hang on a cliff My eyes was beneath the aftershock But all I could do is to stare at the ceiling No words to be found nor sounds could form Only the laugh,scream and yells of the crowd The thunderstorm,chill of the breezing air Wants me to follow the serene. My catatonic blueprinted smile was fainted Schizophrenia that I could last at the moment And yet an honorific began to squeeze me There were thousands of people But I could feel like im on the spotted arena If I could shout out loud and escape from the reality then I'd go save by the bell.***
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Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 3:53 AM UTC
Lost I (teaser for gangsta poet)
I found myself stuttering yesterday... clumsily tripping, fumbling, over words. The explanation of my whereabouts - in question. Like a guilty child. Awareness then anger emerge. irritated, indignant hostility. That I would allow this again - over and over and over again… Trying to account for every moment beneath suspicious eyes. Groundless guilt rising up, as I choke, words broke and unspoke - while the little voice in my head screams "I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG!"
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May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 3:34 PM UTC
I found some more dirt in the corner yesterday.
Giver of life, bringer of joy Soother of sorrow, restorer of faith Great nurturer, healer, and fountain of hope Unonscious morality, a wisdom unspoke Center of pride, core of my being Source of my strength, an angel unseen Mama loves the ocean and she loves the sunrise Sun rays in her hair, blue waves in her eyes A Timeless beauty of infinite grace An embodiment of love and engulfing embrace That surrounds me with warmth and compassion and peace Always at my side and in times of need When trouble shakes that of this mortal soul The whispering voice that calls my name home
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May 12, 2011
May 12, 2011 at 1:42 PM UTC
Poem For My Mother
I dreamt of slow-dancing and we waltzed until I woke Hazy scent of desires unspoke I, mangled with your absence, breathe a mere thought of reality's biting grip and rip the blanket from my bones Naked and exposed, more vulnerable and assured than ever to disclose those tender tickles I feel when in repose, visceral and verbose I spew black for it's pronounced and bold amplifying the dark hold melted to my frame Bursting free, finally with a pounding chest, primary shades to express, and fear tentatively at rest Your hand in mine gives a soft and slow caress and I exhale our dance of coalesce.
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Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 5:09 AM UTC
Ephemeral Waltz
Touching the moment, this delicate moment Touching the face with its’ sad falling tear, Softly aware that strange feelings surround us Cloyingly close with their aura of fear. Fear of a mantle of misunderstanding Fear of uncertainty choked in forlorn, Cloaked in thick prejudice clad by constriction All drowned in a sea of wet ignorance borne. Where stand the rational reaching for reason? How seek the humble in searching for more? ****** not the javelin of angers’ contrition In weighing this moment, I humbly implore. For thus sits the fabric of deep understanding Thus lies the tantric of feelings unspoke, Thus the true substance of one to another Uttered in wisdom through words best unwrote. M. 30 September 2015
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Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 12:43 AM UTC
The Parable of the Unwritten
The Level of Uncertainty, This Yellow Star “Even though I’m OK right now, there’s a sense it could all go away in a second.”   <> foreboding, a disease well known to me, not “as if,” but in fact been Cain-marked at birth to be wary, be watchful, ever alert, never inert in the realm of possibilities, the king in my universe’s galaxy is the randomness of existence, microsecond, milligram minuscule, muscular instability that even if unspoke, danger! it’s bespoke nature, customized just for me, lurks, prepared to **** me into a hard fall, loss of balance yes, I prepare with subtleties, minute measures, discrete and indiscreet, measured steps, slow-wide turns, “hands on the railing down the stairs we go” motto~attitudinal, antithesis~carefree, for this birthmark was forehead installed from birth, as a reminder that reckless abandon is a countervailing force, and there are whales in the ocean and whole coteries of fish in the sea, waiting, wanting to swallow me whole, lions across the ocean faraway continents eager for a nibble of my tender heart, round **** and thousands of people who hate me and my kind, for no reason, other than my birth mark, this foreheaded yellow star, notifying all eyes, that I am to be dreaded, feared, for reasons no matter, just but unjustly because, I am a Jew who prays thrice times daily for peace for the whole world. Sat Feb 10 8:35am
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Feb 24, 2024
Feb 24, 2024 at 7:46 AM UTC
The Level of Uncertainty, This Yellow Star
Step with me, my friend Behind the beating fast fall of water unending. Here we are now, Two souls in the echoing space Between solid rock and falling curtain of water. Hush now... Do you feel the pulse Of the Earth's flowing veins, Coagulating with your own? Listen.... Do you hear the murmur Of forgotten voices Kept in memory of stone walls Surrounding us here? They sing to you, To me, To whomever has the ears to listen, Of moss and wheat meadows The green blades dripping blood, Spicy and cruel crimson in the sun. Songs of deep sorrows unmendable, Leaving the beating heart Cold and transparent. Songs of love, Love felt to consume the mind, Uniting lovers A million in number, Sharing passions unspoke of. Listen..... Here we are now, Two souls in the echoing space Between solid rock and falling curtain of water, Listen......
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Jun 26, 2012
Jun 26, 2012 at 7:11 PM UTC
Echoing Voices
you could perhaps,    some n ight come up to 3rd flr           & entertain. you know .     split words in 1/2 with silver straight razor kept in yr mouth. loving to chastise mundane things i do — grip th' railing white hands as petals of obscene flower that makes feel    ... one's everything  ... o phelia. and why when siren wails past the mercadona at 3 AM while i sit on the curb as you buy some-thing (i forget. wine i hope). do you come out and stare at my shaking hands? your very eyebrows contesting my innocence? the way the fully-loaded hips **** with the asking of your unspoke question and legs angle to the sidewalk left foot turned slightly inwards, a heart attack in roberto verino.
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Oct 20, 2012
Oct 20, 2012 at 7:13 PM UTC
sus (re-rub)
At the far end of the casket,   his girlfriend hugged his wife And told her she was sorry,   that she had tried to steal her life Their tears then ran in unison,   for one who loved them both The years they shared now testament,   to a choice he left unspoke They never met before this day,   and would never meet again But each knew well the other, and they almost felt like friends The mistress left, the children wept,   and the grandchildren played outside As his wife looked down, saying “your hell has passed, —sleep well my love, goodbye” (Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)
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Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 7:10 PM UTC
Sleep Well My Love, Goodbye
I'm Happy See, Doing Some Things, All Which I Love, Focused On Me, Krav Maga, Lot's Of Poetry, Street Routine Super Mean, Smooth Moves Clean, No Karate Class, No Gi, Just You And Me, Karate Fast, I Will Never Be The He That Shot His *** I Don't Like Sirens , Truamtize From Sirensn, All That Violence, I Will Silence That, Hit First Hit Last, Soulution Execution, Problems In The Past, Percieve Accordingly, Peep The Facts, Knowledgeable, Notice My Flow, Vocab Though So Rad, My Soul Is Magik, Heart So Sad, I Feel The Pain, Hey Happiness I Show That, An Oath Is A Promise, I Know That , So What Is Unspoke And Unseen, I Must Not Scream Or Proceed To Show That, I Shroom On Long Weeks, Peaking On Gold Caps, Sit In A Rose Bath, Exotic Gypsy Doll So Bad, Affection Deep, Passionate Sexin, We Hold Hands, In The Room Naked, We Anxious, Both Slow Dance, I Feel So Alone , And Ya Know, **** I Suffer Silent, Secretley Dying Ya Know And, I'm Gonna Change The World Cos We Both Can't, Peace To My Enimies, I Don't Have Beef, Not Time To Eat With Close Frienimes, I'm Leaving A Very Deep Intriguing Legacy, Remember Please
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Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 9:17 PM UTC
Peep IT
We feast tonight! The fasting's past, and the banquet now is spread. We feast tonight! Enough for all to gather and break bread. We feast tonight! Because we hunger, in ways we barely know. We feast tonight! We dine together, our common ground to show. We drink tonight! To battles won and lost at the stroke of a pen. We drink tonight! To who we are, and also who we've been. We drink tonight! To memories, and those yet to be made. We drink tonight! To the future, and the doomed plans we have laid. We dance tonight! To music that only we can hear. We dance tonight! Together, hands joined, and very near. We dance tonight! To let out what's bottle up inside. We dance tonight! As though unseen, no caution cast for pride. We sing tonight! The songs we wrote when we were younger folk. We sing tonight! The words we thought were better left unspoke'. We sing tonight! The heavens echo, our voices of single mind. We sing tonight! And though off-key, could be no more refined. We live tonight! No other night holds portent over this. We live tonight! With little fear of what we lack, or miss. We live tonight! Because we wish, not because we must. We live tonight! And never know, tomorrow we may be dust.
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Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 2:08 AM UTC
Tonight!
Torn lovers meet once every night yet never as one in heavens sight Orphillia - Hast thou no words of comfort now to ease my troubled heart to rest to take from me my fevered brow and deep set ache of risen breast My soul cries out for one as he that from my sight is absent made as futile need and want set free in rivulets of tears cascade For such am I of royal birth of noble stock and silver spoon and yet my heart attains not worth when his and mine beat out of tune .... Tacio I dare not speak for fear she hears the trembling of my muted tongue that I wouldst taste those wasted tears that from her eyes unjustly wrung I beg the shadows let me hide lest I were seen and thought unkind watching her pain that wounds my pride knowing that love is not so blind For I a common fellow born of lowly stock from country folk am bound a bondsman here this morn by words I am afraid unspoke .....
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Apr 22, 2012
Apr 22, 2012 at 8:51 PM UTC
A work in progress
One day at a time. Forgetting the world around us Our souls intertwining even through the rain You hold within you so much pain Each day you show me how deep your love goes I am thankful to have you These words never go unspoke. Our love is deep and flows with the sea Setting our sails to coincide You are my destiny. A home within your soul I seek.
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Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 1:08 AM UTC
Oblivion
the plural of grief is grief, **in our lives, we busy ourselves accumulating various assorted grief, some physical, most mental, those stories when retold, first make you groan out loud, every-one asks what’s a matter, no spilling beans, you shake ‘em away with a smile and a “just life” and it gets dropped** **if you’re so young, that you haven't started a career of serious collecting, the objects that will decorate every place, in every state, wherever the airy transplants, you won’t be surprised, thinking you “forgot” to pack them, for they travel light, though, they weigh more than any hope chest of unworn garments that will never be discarded, even when hope is so long gone, it is still an unrecognizable** And yet, the plural of grief is grief and there is a singular story, a lost love, a guilt for letting someone get lost, leaving them unknowing that if you could, you’d whisper shouts of reconciliation for days, to cain assuage the years when they lay unspoke, brike broke inside a human chest of petty grievances I have one, midst all my knowns, which even not even now, even in my truth serum poetry that will not be confessed, lest you’d beg me to never write again, move on to parts unknown, let that gory story abide in your own, in your windowless palace, with your other locked up secret treasures wrapped in black tissue paper my own chosen grief, unspoken, unwritten, and resting restrained upon an invisible line that lives on my tongue, it is fresh, imaged, just a hasty taste away, when it resurfaces at its own chosen speed, its own chosen need to be rebreathed, when least desired, least required, **in other words, when it chooses to emerge, & it chooses you, at the precise right always the wrongest time & place**
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Oct 30, 2024
Oct 30, 2024 at 8:42 AM UTC
your own chosen grief
the plural of grief is grief, **in our lives, we busy ourselves accumulating various assorted grief, some physical, most mental, those stories when retold, first make you groan out loud, every-one asks what’s a matter, no spilling beans, you shake ‘em away with a smile and a “just life” and it gets dropped** **if you’re so young, that you haven't started a career of serious collecting, the objects that will decorate every place, in every state, wherever the airy transplants, you won’t be surprised, thinking you “forgot” to pack them, for they travel light, though, they weigh more than any hope chest of unworn garments that will never be discarded, even when hope is so long gone, it is still an unrecognizable** And yet, the plural of grief is grief and there is a singular story, a lost love, a guilt for letting someone get lost, leaving them unknowing that if you could, you’d whisper shouts of reconciliation for days, to cain assuage the years when they lay unspoke, brike broke inside a human chest of petty grievances I have one, midst all my knowns, which even not even now, even in my truth serum poetry that will not be confessed, lest you’d beg me to never write again, move on to parts unknown, let that gory story abide in your own, in your windowless palace, with your other locked up secret treasures wrapped in black tissue paper my own chosen grief, unspoken, unwritten, and resting restrained upon an invisible line that lives on my tongue, it is fresh, imaged, just a hasty taste away, when it resurfaces at its own chosen speed, its own chosen need to be rebreathed, when least desired, least required, **in other words, when it chooses to emerge, & it chooses you, at the precise right always the wrongest time & place**
Continue reading...
71
As i lay here i think if your thinking about me. but i'll be wrong, so i listen to our song. i need you by my side. so i don't have to hide. Are you my friend or foe, this bothers me so, Not seeing what to do, But i'll live through it for all i have done, it is left unspoke like the words upon your lips watching you choke on your feelings when your with me do you think of her? You need to decide , cause its breaking me inside. so i write away so it goes away.
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Feb 20, 2011
Feb 20, 2011 at 1:31 PM UTC
20/2/11 23.30
And I don't even know why I cant stop I can feel my heart THUD THUD THUD I can feel theirs too I can smell the stale beer that I spilled That was weeks ago The lights at night they beg They pleed For me, they want to take my soul Want to give it history They want to challenge its strength But they soon find the strength hidden Not ready to show itself It's okay, my blood needed to boil My heart, need be ripped out Let it If i'm going to live I'm going to give it a cause I'm living for for the endless nights The whispers in the wind Puking on the way home Crying till drifting to sleep Screaming whenever allowed I'm living for every bruise Every laugh and smile Every sad ending The miracles I'm living for my own selfishness I'm not even worthy to be heard But it will happen and this is what truly keeps me Thriving Through every drunken night falling down the stairs Sneaking into bars smirking at young men That are rather un tasteful It'll be worth it who knows where this will lead me I dont care anymore My life will be filled negative Positive Allot more in-between I'm giving in and letting my heart My stupid heart I'm letting it lead me into the worst WORST circumstances I'll keep it up until its over And maybe I'll never understand But maybe you will And maybe i'll stop speaking But i find that very unlikely
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Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 1:34 AM UTC
Unspoke
Blood-soaked, too close, unspoke words. Your mom's eyes, but never her ear. Dad's words of wisdom, but you know next to nothing about his life experiences. Granddaddy calls your brother by gay slurs Still, when you talk to him, you're expected to say, “Yes, sir.” Share a room, share your clothes with your sister. She won't share why she stays with a boyfriend who hits her. There's been too much agression already, so you don't want to pry, you don't want to push. Family functional means carrying on, harmony at the expense of heart.
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Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 9:54 PM UTC
Loyalty in Name Not Deed
Sugar tips, ain't your heart sweet enough. Biting and bruising in between sheets, no need to be playing it rough. Your words are of unspoke, Gripping on your breath I stole from your lips. The essence of your throat. Kiss as long as we may, Stealing the words from your mouth you wish to say. Between foreign lips to my tongue, I pray not for your bite back doing my own lip harm. At the ease of embrace, Pulling closer to feel textures of her beauty's face. Lips comimg close to be of one, Tasting of your taste in my mouth, before reaching your tongue. We fell into a kiss.
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Mar 28, 2019
Mar 28, 2019 at 6:15 PM UTC
Kiss