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"unwinnable" poems
Down like an anchor, Vision is shrinking as your eardrums burst through the grusome pressure, increasing the deeper you go in the deep, blue, merciless sea A match unwinnable, a fight to the finish, to ones very last breath, Tackled something so much greater, it has pulled back, after capsizing we made the decision when it came to swim or sink, that we drown, Swallowed by the ocean,  these great unfathomable depths, taken away our last breath of fresh, salty, stinging, yet very pleasant flavour Our blanket is a billow, a stormy night which caused this tragedy, Darkness under darkness, where light upon light once ruled supreme Until our bodies have been taken apart, by this greedy sea and its desire to take us in, make us a part of it's glorious wide spread self, Never to see the glassy surface once more, or will we be ship ghosts? All lies and all sin, all dreams and all majesty, are swept away by swelling waves of the expanse someone may call the pacific ocean, All ego and all deception, all freedom and all light is lost in its dephts But we quietly, gently rest with pride in our hearts. ~ Umi
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Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 7:43 PM UTC
Sinking
I am Ink sweet blood of the pen. I **** the flesh of parchment with savvy strokes of timeless musings. The poet is nothing without my inspiration to spur him forward forcing thought from mind into visual conceptions of reality. The written word is law and I am law We are one. The ink ,not the pen, is mightier than the sword. What is the pen without me? The ink. A wasted corpse space used on a desk worthless to be without ink. I alone am the soul of literature. I alone raise words from the dead minds of deceased philosophers. My word has capsized continents waged unwinnable wars I do not discriminate I have killed men women children. I have breathed life into centuries. I am eternity I am ink.
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Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 5:57 AM UTC
I am Ink
I am not a hero I am no white knight I try my best But sometimes it isn’t enough Good always triumphs over evil Or so the saying goes Since I lose, does that make me evil I don’t cause pain purposefully I try to help others But I am no hero I don’t fight an unwinnable fight I do feel pain And I listen to my fear A hero has a destiny Something greater than them I simply do not I’m freer than the hero I can believe what I want The opinions of what is good or evil Doesn’t affect me I know the world isn’t black and white I don’t do theimpossible I live in this world Just like everyone else I know who I am And I accept it I am not a hero I am something greater I am me
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Mar 1, 2010
Mar 1, 2010 at 4:32 PM UTC
I am not a hero
My soul lies at the bottom of a cold glass bottle, I live my life full throttle conscious and wild, With unfathomable sorrow in the bottom of my scorned black heart, I play fast and loose with love and idle madness, Its the fruit of my life that gets me through. Everyday is like Russian roulette in my mind, Everyday I take a sip but the truth gets harder to find, It doesn’t exist at the bottom of a bottle, Yet everyday I desperately search for the answers, Everyday I fall just a little behind, It’s an unwinnable game that I constantly lose everyday I slip closer to the end with no light in sight, Yet it’s the little fruit of my life that helps get me through. Sometimes I feel like a god, sometimes I feel like a roach in a pool, Sometimes I feel like a king, sometimes I feel like a fool, Sometimes I feel like the very essence of life, sometimes I feel like the darkest cold death, But it’s the spark in my lungs, it’s the fire in my stomach, The Uniqueness! of my essence, and the freedom of my will, but I’m still just a slave with a bullet in my head, I have to drench my soul and drown my burdens, For now it’s the fruit of my life that gets me through.
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Nov 12, 2023
Nov 12, 2023 at 9:11 PM UTC
Gets Me Through
,000 drafts of poems proposed, some but a bit, a title, a bob, some wondering why are they kept in suspended animation, the fire of exiting from placenta to screaming baby, most, patient waiting, over the undivided divide, the Cumbersome Attention Gap to cross, to the state of hallelujah completion this race should be an Olympic one, it is unwinnable, but only open to poets who willing to go the unlimited distance, every finished oeuvre, spawns bornes two more, so you, fool, even a fifth grader, intuits the higher math of you’ll never catchup, but rise invigorated to meet, greet the wonderous sunrise challenge… and the promised ones, “next one for you,” the unconditional incompleyedy poems so overdue, the muses send an armored truck to collect just the largesse of fine fines… as my old West Village friend sang, you poet, “might as well try and catch the wind” this leads me to observe a new day’s first birthday, even as Leonard sings Yom Kippur hymns of mortality, and all the ways humans can pass thru the gap in the morn clouds that is the passageway to the Higher North… you see, this is this poems day of naissance, one day, one candle, now extant, but sooner to be a not, one more poem sent heavenward after a  brilliant brief coexistence with the innards of my mind…
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Aug 14, 2024
Aug 14, 2024 at 10:37 AM UTC
40
For this game We don’t need a Nintendo We don’t need a Wii Not even a switch The rules are simple: Peachy can defeat Bowser only if Bowser removes his mask He can do this himself or let it fall off in time Peachy sees Bowser differently than everyone else She doesn’t notice he’s not as appealing to the eye She doesn’t notice that he breathes fire whenever he speaks His grip is tighter than what she’s used to He’s not always himself but snaps back when she realizes it He adores her as an object, not as a Princess She cries, he comforts her But eventually her tears becomes his rage points Each and every last one of them Peachy is confused He says he loves her He says he’ll be ****** if he leaves her But she knows he means well Even if she doesn’t always believe it Even if she doesn’t always understand him Bowser stops caring Bowser goes behind her back to pick another peachy But he fails Miserably And he takes it out on her Peachy stopped wearing pink Bowser didn’t like it She stopped wearing makeup He said she can never match it right She even stopped wearing her gold crown Bowser can’t stand it on her It reflects everything he’ll never be It makes her attract the looks of Mario & Luigi Peachy wouldn’t give away what’s Bowser’s Initially, at least But Daisy inspired her And Rosalina guided her to better While Pauline reminded her who she was Peachy is herself again! Bowser loss his own game He thought he was smarter than Peachy But Peachy outsmarted him long before they crossed paths She wore her crown with grace With elegance and with confidence Things Bowser couldn’t dream of on his worst day What was once a daily unwinnable final boss battle Has turned into a well won victory for Princess Peachy! -Mia J 7/7/2025 © 2025 Mia J
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Sep 3, 2025
Sep 3, 2025 at 9:00 AM UTC
Bowser plays Peachy
For this game We don’t need a Nintendo We don’t need a Wii Not even a switch The rules are simple: Peachy can defeat Bowser only if Bowser removes his mask He can do this himself or let it fall off in time Peachy sees Bowser differently than everyone else She doesn’t notice he’s not as appealing to the eye She doesn’t notice that he breathes fire whenever he speaks His grip is tighter than what she’s used to He’s not always himself but snaps back when she realizes it He adores her as an object, not as a Princess She cries, he comforts her But eventually her tears becomes his rage points Each and every last one of them Peachy is confused He says he loves her He says he’ll be ****** if he leaves her But she knows he means well Even if she doesn’t always believe it Even if she doesn’t always understand him Bowser stops caring Bowser goes behind her back to pick another peachy But he fails Miserably And he takes it out on her Peachy stopped wearing pink Bowser didn’t like it She stopped wearing makeup He said she can never match it right She even stopped wearing her gold crown Bowser can’t stand it on her It reflects everything he’ll never be It makes her attract the looks of Mario & Luigi Peachy wouldn’t give away what’s Bowser’s Initially, at least But Daisy inspired her And Rosalina guided her to better While Pauline reminded her who she was Peachy is herself again! Bowser loss his own game He thought he was smarter than Peachy But Peachy outsmarted him long before they crossed paths She wore her crown with grace With elegance and with confidence Things Bowser couldn’t dream of on his worst day What was once a daily unwinnable final boss battle Has turned into a well won victory for Princess Peachy! -Mia J 7/7/2025 © 2025 Mia J
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52
thump, thump, thump Marching in place Never advancing The war never ending thump, thump, thump Bullets wiz by gasp A soldier goes down Screams echo across the line Soldier after soldier collapse In our unmoving lines thump, thump, thump We continue to march In one place Soldiers in a straight line Side by side Fighting an unwinnable war Each shot from us Is a shot in the dark The occasional screech from the other side Today's the day We will win this war Today's the day We need to stop keeping score Yet We still march on In our worn down spots We yearn for our bodies to halt We long for a day of rest Yet We march on We march on With our blazing bullets Our pained screams We march on Shooting into the darkness Hoping to hit someone Something Anything We are the soldiers of 2015 We are the unmoving army Marching in one place We are soldiers
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Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 4:54 PM UTC
Soldiers
A lovestruck boy went in for an adventure - To win the heart of the most beautiful girl in his neighbourhood. She would smile at him and stroke his hair with her fingers. Just when he thought he got her heart She walked away like smoke from flames leaving him to burn to ashes
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Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 4:24 PM UTC
The Unwinnable Girl
And here we go again like two children You’re mad at me, I’m mad at you Over and over, it just never ends Seems like everyday it’s something new In an ocean of words You want me to find the ones That will make everything better Believe me if I could, I would And i’d drown us in every last letter But as the questions fall unanswered down your face I know the truth is, it’d still be too late Maybe we’re both wrong, maybe we’re both right Maybe this is simply an unwinnable fight Maybe we’ve been trying to move mountains all this time So maybe we should just call it a night And if tomorrow we wake up to find That both of our hearts have died Well at least we can say that we tried Frustration has made us believe we don’t care Till it feels like there’s no point in trying And every second spent getting nowhere Is just another second spent lying We lie to ourselves because Nowadays it’s easier to pretend Instead of finding our way out Of all the broken pieces, The building tensions, And all our growing doubts But as the questions fall unanswered down your face I know the truth is, things will never be the same Maybe we’re both wrong, maybe we’re both right Maybe this is simply an unwinnable fight Maybe we’ve been trying to move mountains all this time So maybe we should just call it a night And if tomorrow we wake up to find That both of our hearts have died Well at least we can say that we tried At least we can say we tried… And we just keep falling Falling between the cracks With nothing Nothing to lead us back And as the questions fall unanswered down your face I know we'll never be too lost to find a way… And if tomorrow we wake up to find That both of our hearts have died Well at least we can say that we tried At least we can say that we once loved…
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Jun 20, 2012
Jun 20, 2012 at 1:31 PM UTC
~When Is It Too Late To Try?~
And here we go again like two children You’re mad at me, I’m mad at you Over and over, it just never ends Seems like everyday it’s something new In an ocean of words You want me to find the ones That will make everything better Believe me if I could, I would And i’d drown us in every last letter But as the questions fall unanswered down your face I know the truth is, it’d still be too late Maybe we’re both wrong, maybe we’re both right Maybe this is simply an unwinnable fight Maybe we’ve been trying to move mountains all this time So maybe we should just call it a night And if tomorrow we wake up to find That both of our hearts have died Well at least we can say that we tried Frustration has made us believe we don’t care Till it feels like there’s no point in trying And every second spent getting nowhere Is just another second spent lying We lie to ourselves because Nowadays it’s easier to pretend Instead of finding our way out Of all the broken pieces, The building tensions, And all our growing doubts But as the questions fall unanswered down your face I know the truth is, things will never be the same Maybe we’re both wrong, maybe we’re both right Maybe this is simply an unwinnable fight Maybe we’ve been trying to move mountains all this time So maybe we should just call it a night And if tomorrow we wake up to find That both of our hearts have died Well at least we can say that we tried At least we can say we tried… And we just keep falling Falling between the cracks With nothing Nothing to lead us back And as the questions fall unanswered down your face I know we'll never be too lost to find a way… And if tomorrow we wake up to find That both of our hearts have died Well at least we can say that we tried At least we can say that we once loved…
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48
here, another night writhing I should be asleep, comfortable I should be… normal instead I writhe or I lie so ******* still trying to pretend trying to will it away inside I am clawing to get out of this body inside I picture myself flailing, jerking, thrashing, punching, kicking I visualize breaking my own bones with how hard I fight the pain I see it in my mind, I let loose and walk away bloodied, bruised, all cut up… but I won. in my mind. in reality I have no energy to thrash. i lack the spoons to fight, and this, is an unwinnable war anyway. so I lie still. or I writhe, sigh, and cry.
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May 2, 2023
May 2, 2023 at 1:53 AM UTC
pain and a losing battle
Why do we struggle against life fight in opposition to time we all know we cannot win Time, no matter how we perceive always passes and life well, is only our idea. We still struggle our combative minds focused on trying to win an unwinnable battle. Although.... is it a battle? a fight a struggle perhaps we are not in combat. Why do we journey through life striding along times route we know we will never reach journeys end times path arrows forever into the horizon and life well, it is the road we walk on yet still we move forward our hopeful minds fixed on the end of the road trying to walk a never-ending path. Although... is life a journey? an adventure a path perhaps we are not moving. Why do we dance in life tapping along to times tune we know we will never move that final step times harmony echoes through our minds and life well, it is the song we move to yet still we flow our bodies sway toward the end of the beat Trying to complete the patterns of an unending dance. Although... are we dancing? moving swaying perhaps we are not Dancers. Although... maybe we are.
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May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 5:21 AM UTC
Although
An owl hoots, a warning? I head East into the thieves market, lucky horseshoes for sale and without fail they are in good supply. Make no mistake  as they take no prisoners here. Passing through the untied shoelace of cobblestoned lanes I spy the woman through a postage stamp window, barred as if franked by the mailman, she plays patience and always with two cards missing, an unwinnable task, but she's old and if old becomes a memory then she becomes one too.  An ocean, if red is the ocean, of slanted tiles stretch beyond my imagination into an expanding horizon, I  smell coffee and sit local to the river watching the elegance of Portuguese pigeons, it's dreamlike in its quality. This morning, the earthquake shook me awake even though that was centuries ago and still the owl hoots.  Earlier outside the church of Santo Estaveo I am bound to its steps by my own chains, this will change as the sun which works by its own memory rises above the fishing boats. So easy to be here and to fall into the trap So easy to tap dance my way through the one eyed shadows that wink over the bay, in the distance, a tram, a man and his day stay longer than this moment in time. To close the eyes clues and sighs  It's a splendid life and though full of lies at incredibly cheap prices the thieves market is the place to be wary. Each shadow now stronger as the day becomes longer and the hours get shorter. Caught, I have sought solace in this place and found peace from within, sin  is yet to find me.
0
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 3:01 PM UTC
A period in Portugal #1
An owl hoots, a warning? I head East into the thieves market, lucky horseshoes for sale and without fail they are in good supply. Make no mistake  as they take no prisoners here. Passing through the untied shoelace of cobblestoned lanes I spy the woman through a postage stamp window, barred as if franked by the mailman, she plays patience and always with two cards missing, an unwinnable task, but she's old and if old becomes a memory then she becomes one too.  An ocean, if red is the ocean, of slanted tiles stretch beyond my imagination into an expanding horizon, I  smell coffee and sit local to the river watching the elegance of Portuguese pigeons, it's dreamlike in its quality. This morning, the earthquake shook me awake even though that was centuries ago and still the owl hoots.  Earlier outside the church of Santo Estaveo I am bound to its steps by my own chains, this will change as the sun which works by its own memory rises above the fishing boats. So easy to be here and to fall into the trap So easy to tap dance my way through the one eyed shadows that wink over the bay, in the distance, a tram, a man and his day stay longer than this moment in time. To close the eyes clues and sighs  It's a splendid life and though full of lies at incredibly cheap prices the thieves market is the place to be wary. Each shadow now stronger as the day becomes longer and the hours get shorter. Caught, I have sought solace in this place and found peace from within, sin  is yet to find me.
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26
Casting stone through my eyes towards empathy Its a thing as abundant air hydrogen or water Emanating from the heart of a cynic, feeling what others feel, is a waste That which makes others Yearn and ache for sympathy Makes the grey greyer Turn your back and the person in earshot is long since dead A racing mind hurries them into the oblivion That they fought against just enough to smile A winter evening Is like a siege, famed and vexed Fairy tales of doom Wake up with a colossus standing sentient over your hope The weight breaks your jaw So you cant talk yourself out of these lies Unwinnable wars All destroying comets Swathes of doom and dirge All carved into your mind Acid rain corrodes the gold foundation On which your joy lies Suffer silently With words too big for speech Lamenting and unspoken The joker god lives in you Speaking only lies In the form of sad sounds a dark colors Melancholy fades Only to hang in the air Maddening, distant The faceless, the vengeful Mouth of hatred Takes an ever changing spectral form Unblinking, staring Estrangement, your visage Becomes familiar Strong duality Makes a war grounds In a space of zen
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Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 1:05 AM UTC
Probably Something
The dream of your face I chase oh I chase an unwinnable race in a hypocritical place I hate you Do I hate me? I hate knowing the things we could be I hate knowing the fact that you can't see I hate seeing the person you've made me The dream of your face The time that I waste I'll soon make my case time takes the time time takes.
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Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 4:44 AM UTC
TimeTakesTheTimeTimeTakes
Love is a merely a fable of fairy tales A simple mistruth that propels our wishful sails We invest ourselves in this lie To convince us that we won't be alone when we die We think of love as some heavily bliss Something to be cherished and missed But it is just a tale to keep us warm at night It's better to give up now than loose an unwinnable fight.
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Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 9:30 AM UTC
What Is Love?
there we stay twisting, snapping, following each other round and round and round locked in battle unwinnable teeth sunk into my thigh hands at your furred neck grasping, growling struggle neverending
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Jan 25, 2019
Jan 25, 2019 at 11:13 AM UTC
beast
In a different land my dreams bring me to explore.. Lands Anew.. Where Clean Green Grasses, Mystic Songs, the Scrolls, and the Maps of The Orient's  Past.....are for me to discover and enjoy more.. The true meanings of the elders..I relate to them... I live within these lands.... Closing my eyes to sleep. Flying to this beautiful and untainted country On dreams leading to astral plains of plenty. I run freely and strongly, there Like a flame on the kindle to which  it  fuels...... I stand stronger, here Like  a tree well rooted..Standing tall from the ground.... I become A monument to those powerful and magical spirits which speak into me as I escape waking bonds. Flowing like a clean artisan stream..... Brightening my world like a huge lighthouse torch..... Free as a monkey playfully sounding his voice in the mystic tropical lands... My Heart is called to motion As hope is a reoccurring dream. I hold a deed to a  space in this land A newer place seen as "lost in another time and place." This is where I belong. As hope lights my way, it will not take long... To Follow the wise messages in those "Astral Travels" Where I've left  behind despair,broken homesteads and the dark people behind.. As I awaken from the belief of the small and unwinnable battles called "self made limits" I shall be awakened by hope's light. For the land in my dreams Such Safe  traveling shall replace  the "old" pathways that lead me astray Then,delightfully,I shall be  traveling newer  roads... To arrive at my destination to "Lands Made For Me To Reside."
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Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 4:39 AM UTC
Roads To The New
In a different land my dreams bring me to explore.. Lands Anew.. Where Clean Green Grasses, Mystic Songs, the Scrolls, and the Maps of The Orient's  Past.....are for me to discover and enjoy more.. The true meanings of the elders..I relate to them... I live within these lands.... Closing my eyes to sleep. Flying to this beautiful and untainted country On dreams leading to astral plains of plenty. I run freely and strongly, there Like a flame on the kindle to which  it  fuels...... I stand stronger, here Like  a tree well rooted..Standing tall from the ground.... I become A monument to those powerful and magical spirits which speak into me as I escape waking bonds. Flowing like a clean artisan stream..... Brightening my world like a huge lighthouse torch..... Free as a monkey playfully sounding his voice in the mystic tropical lands... My Heart is called to motion As hope is a reoccurring dream. I hold a deed to a  space in this land A newer place seen as "lost in another time and place." This is where I belong. As hope lights my way, it will not take long... To Follow the wise messages in those "Astral Travels" Where I've left  behind despair,broken homesteads and the dark people behind.. As I awaken from the belief of the small and unwinnable battles called "self made limits" I shall be awakened by hope's light. For the land in my dreams Such Safe  traveling shall replace  the "old" pathways that lead me astray Then,delightfully,I shall be  traveling newer  roads... To arrive at my destination to "Lands Made For Me To Reside."
Continue reading...
28
I wasn't born this competitive I was forged Because they strongest metals Are forged In the hottest flames I still feel The heat of the forge on my skin Pushing me To be better then everyone Pushing me To fight unwinnable battles And sometimes I make it out alive and stronger And sometimes I barely crawl away with my life So the forge Fires up again pushing me to hate And the forge Makes me resent those who are better Til I can't stand Being around them or knowing them Til I can't stand Doing something I can't win So the forge Turns off and makes quit So the forge Crumbles onto me and I'm crushed I wasn't born this competitive And this lust for victory Is what's holding me back From being the strongest I can be
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Aug 7, 2017
Aug 7, 2017 at 9:35 PM UTC
Unwanted competition
She sat by the window, wondering about the odds of life As the torrential rain lingered by her window The relentless battle between the mind and heart seemed unwinnable. Brighter prospects appeared more like an unrequited dream. She drew the curtains to let the storm into her Instead she saw a silver lining behind the iridescent clouds And rainbow smiled across the horizon
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Dec 27, 2018
Dec 27, 2018 at 9:31 AM UTC
Mirage
Maybe I ate too much that night Maybe I acted immature Maybe I didn't consider you feelings Maybe I loved you Maybe I hate myself That May be Maybe I wanted that phone call to last one more minute Maybe I didn't want you to be a lesson learned Maybe I could lose a couple pounds Maybe I could dress different Maybe I should grow my hair out That may be Maybe I could've opened that car door Maybe I fought the unwinnable Maybe I cried too loud Maybe I texted too fast Maybe I believed in us That may be Maybe I am insane Maybe I needed more time Maybe I listened to the wrong people Maybe I can make it to you Maybe I can have one more chance That may be May I
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Aug 3, 2020
Aug 3, 2020 at 1:05 AM UTC
May I