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"vouching" poems
Better that every fiber crack and fury make head, blood drenching vivid couch, carpet, floor and the snake-figured almanac vouching you are a million green counties from here, than to sit mute, twitching so under prickling stars, with stare, with curse blackening the time goodbyes were said, trains let go, and I, great magnanimous fool, thus wrenched from my one kingdom.
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53.4k
Monologue At 3 AM
They sit Two feet away from me Spewing sh*t about friends I don't turn Staring at my computer In a slight fit of fear That my turn will be next I know plenty about them And they know me too But who's to say That even if I don't turn I won't be next They love to talk Vouching on that their word Won't be spread It will
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Mar 1, 2022
Mar 1, 2022 at 6:28 PM UTC
Sh*t talkers
what ever happened to originality? the way were living is pure brutality. trying to find ourselves in a world thats so broken, where no one really listens to the words being spoken. were all clones of societys creation, waiting on the world to change, but no ones vouching for retaliation. we'd rather be silenced by a higher power, do you not remember this is our world, you cowards. we must take our stand before the end comes, are you not frighened by the idea of what we may become? this is a battle we cannot afford to lose, will you rise when it is our time?
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Aug 17, 2011
Aug 17, 2011 at 9:39 PM UTC
to assissinate the assissinator.
The silences, the whispers The sound of the shell The clinkers and the clunkers All join to tell A tale untold, yet never forgotten Of a girl and her beloved Lost in the mirage of the ocean. They sit, they stand They walk, they glide Vouching their love O'er every star and tide Holding hands in trust Making memories right As the world bids farewell And sleeps a good night.
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Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 3:04 PM UTC
Moments
So I guess you and I will die apart, then. And would it make a difference if it Were Not So? From the train I saw the moving buildings in the fog They did not know. I watched a man who had not looked at me For all the time we spent together Pick up a pen and write. He showed a care for words But not for me. He was not for me He did not know. The lives we touched and made from passing blurs - A friend defined and sharp in vouching care - As hands can hold caress and make a face To trust in eye to eye in day to day For all the tumbling times to be. That made a difference We will know.
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Nov 20, 2010
Nov 20, 2010 at 11:33 AM UTC
who knows
I feel, invisible Was I born for decoration? You say I'm important But your actions contradict Your words - no Your lies That you want me here Because all you have done is destroy the trust, that, To be honest Never existed in the first place. You say I never listen But when last did you look at me Really look - Through my angry disguise And realise, you are the disappointment I tell you what you have done And you tell me what I have done, wrong I was trying to change; Why should I change For somebody who will never change, ever Because you are right, I am wrong, And stupid for ever trying To convince you. All you have done Is made it worse In turn My anger has erupted Is my genuine happiness supposed to be a side effect of yours? Because I think I have become immune And you have been feeding me this medicine for too long If I put you first You downgrade my actions and turn them into dust, somehow If you put me first I must have asked. Can you admit Acknowledge That what I want is not What you want Can you respect that Or do you enjoy complaining Over And over Again About things that You don't try to prevent But now I don't care Because you didn't - don't care That I cared That I tried. You resent my actions And complain Denigrating who I am But that is your opinion And your opinion does not Dictate my life when you never even listen to mine If you do not want me here Why did you bring me Just so you can show me off for One hour One hour of fake And downgrade me For the next five Stop trying to change me Because you made me who I am Whether you like me or not Even if you are never really here. You are going to say the same For me I am trying to change But you are not Because you are using me as An excuse To justify yourself And your actions I am not vouching for your acceptance - Frankly, I resent who you Are turning me into: The opposite of who you Want me to become. I walk like I talk like I look like A decoration I say why I shout why I stop myself - Now I'm in trouble/ At least, I'm no longer Invisible But what do you expect When you treat me like an obligation What do you expect From an ugly decoration? Never mind After reading this you'll just get angry And punish me for having feelings And shout at me for having feelings And say I'm wrong, discard my feelings, Replace them with yours And I'll say I'm stupid For believing you would listen For once. Did you notice, I always stop talking Because I will end up saying how I really feel And waste my breath So I wrote it instead; Paper listens to me in a way You never have.
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Aug 27, 2017
Aug 27, 2017 at 5:31 PM UTC
Disappointment
I feel, invisible Was I born for decoration? You say I'm important But your actions contradict Your words - no Your lies That you want me here Because all you have done is destroy the trust, that, To be honest Never existed in the first place. You say I never listen But when last did you look at me Really look - Through my angry disguise And realise, you are the disappointment I tell you what you have done And you tell me what I have done, wrong I was trying to change; Why should I change For somebody who will never change, ever Because you are right, I am wrong, And stupid for ever trying To convince you. All you have done Is made it worse In turn My anger has erupted Is my genuine happiness supposed to be a side effect of yours? Because I think I have become immune And you have been feeding me this medicine for too long If I put you first You downgrade my actions and turn them into dust, somehow If you put me first I must have asked. Can you admit Acknowledge That what I want is not What you want Can you respect that Or do you enjoy complaining Over And over Again About things that You don't try to prevent But now I don't care Because you didn't - don't care That I cared That I tried. You resent my actions And complain Denigrating who I am But that is your opinion And your opinion does not Dictate my life when you never even listen to mine If you do not want me here Why did you bring me Just so you can show me off for One hour One hour of fake And downgrade me For the next five Stop trying to change me Because you made me who I am Whether you like me or not Even if you are never really here. You are going to say the same For me I am trying to change But you are not Because you are using me as An excuse To justify yourself And your actions I am not vouching for your acceptance - Frankly, I resent who you Are turning me into: The opposite of who you Want me to become. I walk like I talk like I look like A decoration I say why I shout why I stop myself - Now I'm in trouble/ At least, I'm no longer Invisible But what do you expect When you treat me like an obligation What do you expect From an ugly decoration? Never mind After reading this you'll just get angry And punish me for having feelings And shout at me for having feelings And say I'm wrong, discard my feelings, Replace them with yours And I'll say I'm stupid For believing you would listen For once. Did you notice, I always stop talking Because I will end up saying how I really feel And waste my breath So I wrote it instead; Paper listens to me in a way You never have.
Continue reading...
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I hear the Violins, Vouching for each trivial, But fair feature of yours that lies chaste. I hear the Violas, Bearing the melancholy, Your heart conceals deep within. I hear the Cellos, Pouring the velvety essence of love, In my sullen ears. I hear the Woodwinds, Singing for beauty, calling for love- All in unison. But then the Clarinet disagrees, For the sheer taste of dissonance. There,the Oboe tries to moderate, As the Flute flares up, Emphatically proposing the passion be mutual. Then the Strings intervene, And all play in unison- The purest articulation of the desire, For love - yet unmet. I hear the Brass finally, With Percussion on its side, Sounding as though Zeus were to erase Mount Olympus, Arising turmoil, Provoking the Strings and the Winds, Ousting the gentle harmonies, And ousting the gentle melodies, And alas! ousting the very notion of love. Yet,I love the symphony. And You - are the symphony. The most beautiful I've heard.
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Feb 15, 2019
Feb 15, 2019 at 10:06 AM UTC
The Symphony-That You Are
Crouching demon on my bed Flouting reason, bringing dread Crouching demon of yesterday's me Vouching freedom for shamed crazy If you had eyes they'd surely shine But to some surprise I merely find Instead of sections of fear and fire A gaunt reflection of my reared desire Crouching demon, don't choose me I fling freedom at a bruise I call envy
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Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 11:45 AM UTC
Untitled
Here's we are again, penning thoughts and emotions Like soaking off the excess out our underarms where skin quaffs on the sweat and odour till the air sets in EMOTIONS HAVE PASSED and EMOTIONS HAVE BEEN SAVORED, Quite an anthology. We keep each other alive and inspired as poets Whether we are trending or sharing and adding to Collections; there is certainly a consciousness in there What subject matter would make for this object's subjugation to sense and reason. The object being the writing here present to play plaintiff against ignorance and iniquity Idle-minds to their defence are short-sighted as they have whims whisked by the moment So who can really blame the ignorant and uneducated for they long for the rush and excitement... raw passion like kissing bosoms for the first time and unfurling a woman's body as the clothes surrender into your hands and collapse on the floor So the unintelligent are merely maniacs in their own right So we leave this verdict to the jury The neutral minds that neither vote for poetry nor prose Never vouching for friend or foe Dissecting potential among amateur and pros A little diction to feed off an addiction of anecdotal fiction In it Again, poised to put words to phrased tapestries And I will resuscitate and alleviate as I heal from poetry hypochondria Where I constantly play tricks on myself After I read the product, the synthesis is simply: I've done it, I'm in it again.
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May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 2:45 AM UTC
In it Again
don't please don't do anything to get my attention chance is you already had it ,',',',',
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Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 1:59 AM UTC
attention vouching wont work on me
A dear friend who comes to my aid Everytime, no matter what I need or want or just be Because he is the best friend one can have Stands by always attending to all Mine, and always cheering me Beyond the world’s noise Predicting what I can’t Thank you my friend Vouching for my success Despite discouragements Quite a lovely birthday You have, with the world Cheering you always Amazing friend I have For eternity
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Sep 5, 2024
Sep 5, 2024 at 9:23 AM UTC
My Dear Ganesha, Happy Birthday to You
Words are lines drawn They keep me in line I have sides Dark and light Fuzzy grey black white It's to stand It's to be truthful Comfortable, live with yourself To not run To be proud of yourself I can't wait for a friend that opens me up I had such a friend, opened me up, dark and light A lot feels like lies 'Face' I think they call it I want to sing without face With truth Honesty Hopefully there will be a crowd It's not the most important thing But I hope there are people vouching for me As I am myself The sound of myself The scope, the voice
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Nov 10, 2017
Nov 10, 2017 at 6:33 PM UTC
Lines
My body shivered My skin turned pale My spine quivered Scratches all over by nails The voices angry Vouching for my life Demons hungry Ready with knives Behind closed eyes A hell appears My soul terribly cries Then it disappears Sleepless horrific nights The stirring voices and their lies My soul painfully fights Until my eyes open to the blue skies Day becomes tiring As night spent with lingering creatures Hovering and firing Cursing the healing preachers I am a fighter I've become stronger Tho my body seems lighter And nights have become shorter The demons die of hunger As they are out of feed Coz I've controlled my anger And that was their need Fought this battle for a few years Now my sleeps are good at night My soul no longer fears As my spiritual guardians are ready to fight... ©sim
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Oct 2, 2017
Oct 2, 2017 at 4:25 PM UTC
Through With Insomnia