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emma Jul 2014
you're asleep
you're dreaming
about teeth falling out and shadows chasing you
about fields full of flowers and holding his hand
no matter what about, you dream too much
and you wake up and he's still not there
the rain makes your windows look *****
and the wind causes the roof to make noises
and he won't be there to hold you when the sun goes down
so you go back to sleep
and behind your eyelids you see that smile
that smile he used to flash at you
before holding up a glass of white wine
"cheers" spilling from his asymmetric lips
but that's history
and you shouldn't still be dreaming about him
but you were never one to be the boss of your dreams
the heat wakes you up at 5:47
you haven't been this hot since the too of you shared a bed
you need to stop always drawing him into things
is not there
won't ever be
don't make yourself remember the good times
and how he's everything you ever looked for in a guy
those thoughts belong in late night dreams
and you need to wake up.
wakey wakey, eggs and bakey
i'm getting bad again aka i'm writing """poems""" again
Donall Dempsey Jan 2018
( for Maureen )

Every morning I
delighted in her

jumping into her skin
eager to begin

being her
all over again.

New to her self
as if she had only been

minted that very minute
her own self invented.

Touching the world
with her sense of self

chasing after dust motes
trying to clutch sunlight

creeping up on a honeysuckle's

snatching at music
in the air

begging the world
to come out to play.
PrttyBrd Jun 2014
Sun** breaks the peace of raindrops
Glaring through the window
Burning flesh awake
"Rise and Shine" it SCREAMS in silence
And the hint of laughter on a breeze
Taunts the groggy mind
Daniel James Sep 2011
Neil was a nervous boy
Who no one ever noticed
He often knew the answer
But he very rarely spoke it.

He had an older brother, Jim,
Who was big and tall and strong.
He never said a word to Neil
Except – Eargh - “WRONG!”

So Neil took to playing
His own game of hide and seek
How long could he be silent for?
His record was a week.

“Wakey, wakey Neil!”
Said his dad one night at dinner.
“You had a quiz at school today –
I asked who was the winner?”

But just as Neil’s words
Were forming into song,
His brother flicked a pea at him
And said – Eargh – “WRONG!”

All his family laughed at him
But rather than go red,
Neil bit his fingernails
And disappeared upstairs.

He stayed up all night in his room
Plotting his revenge,
Still fiddling with his fingers
Till he’d bitten off the ends.

Morning came – he did not stop
He plotted and he fiddled.
He did not even notice that
His knuckles had been nibbled.

Back at school it carried on
Pinky – Ring – Index – Pointy – Thumb…
It wasn’t till the lunch bell rung
He noticed his two hands were – none!

“How embarrassing!” He sobbed,
“I ate my hands!” But did he stop?
“I can’t go back to class like this
Everyone will take the ****.”

Nails, fingers, knuckles, wrists
Then funny bones and both armpits
Head, shoulders, knees and toes –
That’s how nervous nibbling goes.

By the end of double biology
Neil was half the boy he used to be
And by the time he’d got back home
He was no more than a mouth and a nose.

“Neil’s quite quiet tonight,”
Said Neil’s dad, “Think he’s all right?”
“Oh he’ll be fine,” Said Neil’s mum,
“Probably just lots of homework on.”

That night, Neil’s mouth and nose
Packed a toothbrush and some clothes
And stepped out on to the moonlit road
Their plan: to run away from home.

They wandered round the town all night
And saw a hundred unseen sights
They saw the things most people miss
The shadows of unhappiness.

Till round a corner he found a group
Of kind old ladies making soup
“Oh dear, my dear, what’s up with you?
Has someone been ignoring you?”

Now Neil’s nose was so surprised
He stood there, mouth open wide -
One lady took this as her cue
And poured in some tomato soup.

“There you go dear, see – much better!
Your neck and belly back together.
Now be a dear and lend a hand –
This piece of bread’s for that old man.”

Though Neil was less than a head
He did his best and took the bread
And when the man said “Thank you friend.”
Neil’s face lit up again.

So Neil worked the whole night through
Making, stirring, pouring soup.
“My dear, why don’t you sit down now as
You’ve been on your feet for hours.”

And sure enough, below his head
Were shoulders knees and toes
“Oh!” Said Neil, “Hello, hello…
I missed you lot, where did you go?”

His foot said, “I was in your mouth.”
His knees – “We knocked each other out.”
His gut - "All eaten up with doubt.”
Till his whole being began to shout.

"WE are Neil! Stand up for us!
Or others will just miss us all -
And the boy in each of us
Who eats himself invisible."

So, next morning, back at home,
Neil put on his brightest clothes
And in his loudest voice he spoke
Of that long night that he left home.

And no one interrupted him –
Not mum, not dad, not even Jim,
And when he’d told of the whole night
Jim turned to him and said… “Oh. Awright.”
( for Maureen )

Every morning I
delighted in her

jumping into her skin
eager to begin

being her
all over again.

New to her self
as if she had only been

minted that very minute
her own self invented.

Touching the world
with here sense of self

chasing after dust motes
trying to clutch sunlight

creeping up on a honeysuckle's

snatching at music
in the air

begging the world
to come out to play.

"!Wakey...wakey!" is what Tilly would greet me with rather than I her...she was always wakey wakey...I...a poor tired Dad...attempting and usually failing to keep up with her perpetual ball of energy and non-stop soaking up of the world through the emotional osmosis of being a 3 year old girl.
Donall Dempsey Jan 2019
( for Maureen )

Every morning I
delighted in her

jumping into her skin
eager to begin

being her
all over again.

New to her self
as if she had only been

minted that very minute
her own self invented.

Touching the world
with here sense of self

chasing after dust motes
trying to clutch sunlight

creeping up on a honeysuckle's

snatching at music
in the air

begging the world
to come out to play.
Poetic T Apr 2015
They said it was beneath me
"Beneath me"
I'll show them what is beneath this fixture
Of flesh and bone.
Can you walk on shards without cutting,
Making me feel as though this is what I'm worth
Laughing, smiling wailing at my misfortune,
"I'll shut the door on them all"
Awaken my princess of beauty, but you are
Ugly on the inside,
I have skills you didn't know,
I went to medical school,
"What was that you said"
"Cat got your tongue"
No its here cold as your words,
Know do you wish to see something??
"Here is the ugliness inside"
Fear, horror as anaesthesia, wears thin
"Do you feel the disgust in yourself"
"Do you feel what is beneath"
Open mouthed silent scream resonates
Upon her bleeding featurless face,
"Does it hurt"
"Here this should help"
I pour on a solution
Two parts vinegar,
One part salt,
A little water a cup was enough,
"Wow" "Fu#k"
Watch her shuffle and squirm,
As the pain gathers pace,
A tear forms in my eye, I hoped she would
Lasted longer...
O' well next room it is...
Hi welcome to the moment you waited for
"This is what's left of your life"
What can I say, the big man
"Now a little shorter"
A little taken of the bottom and sides
"He goes to grab upon my throat"
Now aren't we silly lying in a puddle
Of our own blood, I was never that good at stitches.
"Squirm little worm"
Wakey! Wakey! sleeping trunk,
Thought I lost you for a moment,
"Now where were we"
"Fifteen years ago"
Driving having fun, having fun,
"Having ***#ing fun"
"Little rich boy"
"Little rich departed girl"
You paid for your freedom while she was,
"She was trapped below"
I watched the love, the life drain,
You just laughed...
What was that!!!
"I'm sorry"
That's what I thought you said
We are way past sorry, now its time to leave,
I was going to put you beneath,
"Soil" "Earth"
But I thought this was fitting,
Meet your love, the ugly shown
Now shhh... you'll feel like a little *****.
Wakey! Wakey! sleeping trunk,
Look I found your,  
I had some fun,
Now these are of my own design,
For people like you, like her.
Don't worry there sound proof,
Unfortunately she'll not feel this
But she felt plenty before she was gone.
This will be slow painful
"I'm not sorry"
"I'll ki yo"
I love doing that open, close, open, close.
Sound like musical beat if you time it just right,
"You took her from me"
"You made me what I am today"
Every action has a reaction
And this is yours.
Lets play some authentic music,

"Burning in the ashes"
"Of those that came before"
"Paying for sins of a past forgotten no more"

"You gone burn"
"Burn so slow"
"Feeling the flame of redemption"
"You going to die"
"To ashes you will slowly go"

"Burning in the ashes"
"Of those that came before"
"Paying for sins of a past forgotten no more"

"Did you like,
"I wrote it myself"
You will not go fast, think
"Slow Cooker"
You will feel pain like never before.
You where the last in a line, of those who did
Me wrong. They say the best is for last,
Everyone else was quick. each their own chorus.
Know that when you are both ashes I will urinate on
Your hot embers, no dignified place,
I will just flush you down the ******
Its where **** does goes and **belongs.
Weathervanes with harmonically
tuned brains, took up the call to Step Lively.  

Each one ecking, drop by drop,
To feed you silliness, to lighten your soul.

Wakey, wakey
Eat well
It's your Daddy, I mean attorney
You're really been being very bad.

If you insist, I will.
Learn obedience
or patience or something
in between,

a kernal of obedience?
I'll never promise that,
in order to give it to freely.
I was afraid to let you in.

They were menacing,
stamping us into tiny little molds.
Insistent that we are,
what they think we are.

Did they convince you
that I'd gone off and left you?

No, changing that would require
quantum amounts of convincing.
Was not mistaken that it was you,
just attacked by encroaching apiculture

That is how it felt,
How it feels, but subtler now.*
First course correction will be
the sliver of a melody,

Spreading like a depth charge.
©Atalanta Undigested 2013. All Rights Reserved.
andy fardell Oct 2011
waking to the fresh of dawn my body aches another snore
feel the need for sleep i do ..wakey wakey teapot brew
damm the night that had me hooked.. tv ,beer and loads a grub
just five more is all i ask sleep a little ..alarming bash
Poetic T Jul 2016
She gave me a daisy with a smile, so much care
to not let these frail peteals fall.

"Daddy dearest I give you this as a token of
what I see in you,

"In me my little petal, what do you mean so,

She smiled and ran off into the garden a chain
of daisies was her creation on the table little hands
did do there magic and after what was a long time
two little hands and a curious mind created magic
in her eyes.

"Daddy you have the daisy still,

She smiles seeing that her daddy had kept the little
flower safe from harm not crushed or lost.
No it was in pride of place in her daddies shirt pocket
pocking gently out of the tiny button hole.

"Of course you gave it me my little daisy,

Her father picks her up and gently rocks her back and
forth. Her eyes wonder around the surrounding till
they close like curtains on the world. Hours pass and
she awakens to see her daddy cuddling her fast asleep.

"Daddy wakey wakey, rise and shine sleepy head,

He slowly awakens to rising arms and a almighty
yawn, She sneakily tickles his underarm and he lets
out a half yawn half giggling laugh.

"Cheeky little madam,

Laughter ensues while her dad chases her around the room.

"Petal what did you mean when you said you see me
in the daisy every day?

She smiles and holds her daddies hand placing another
daisy in his hand, composing herself she explains.

"Daddy each petal is a the amount of times you make me
smile each day, and the centre is the love I see in your
heart everyday,

"So this one is the all the smiles I have made you see?

Looking at her daddy she smiles.

"See daddy that's another petal you have given me,

"This one daisy is just the smiles that have blossomed
today since we woke up and laughter made more,

She jumps off her daddies lap and runs off into the
garden, daddy sits there a tear slowly falls down his
face she had made him happy with tears.

Calling him into the garden, telling him to close his
eyes as she steers him where she needs him to be.

"Sit down daddy please,

He sits down slowly so not to embarrass himself by
falling off the chair before he had even sat down.
Sitting she says  "No peeking daddy its a surprise.

Eyes tightly shut hand over so no peeking can spoil
a little petals surprise that awaits her daddies eyes.

"Open up daddy this is what I made for you,

He opens his eyes and see a daisy chain that she worked
so ******* before. "What's this my petal,
She smiles from ear to ear as she ever so gently puts this
piece of work over her daddies head, it hangs so delicately
on his shoulders and then she tells him what it means.

"Daddy everyday I give you a daisy,
"This chain represents all the smiles and love that you have
given me every moment of ever day and this is just a symbol
of how many times you have done that this week,

He smiles and starts to cry,  "Its ok daddy boys can cry too,
Hugging her he tells her that he is so happy and cant believe
what a beautiful little petal he has got in his life.

"Today petal gave me a daisy with a smile, and I cried,

She is my the little lady in my life, my daughter makes me
proud to be a father each and every day my petal..
Ryan Jakes Aug 2014
Wakey Wakey, rise and shine
greet the morning with a smile
wide awake and feeling fine
dancing with this boy of mine.

Twisting on the kitchen floor
the monkey, the jive and many more,
the mashed potato, the hustle too
he follows my lead with a giggle or two.

There's a hound dog, a jailhouse, some blue suede shoes
as we Rave On  with Buddy and Peggy Sue
Reet Petite makes an entrance and whips up the crowd
"Turn it up Daddy, I want this real loud!"

Then on to the Land of a Thousand Dances
even the dog's grinning wide as she prances
we take Three Steps to Heaven and meet Cathy's clown
then on to the next one, no time to sit down.

So I'll fry up the bacon as my little bug jitters
and poach us some eggs with some sweet 'tato fritters
as I sing of Lucille, Maggie may and Delilah,
then Shake Rattle and Roll to those Great ***** Of Fire.
60's radio in the morning.....awesome.
Robert Guerrero Apr 2013
I wanna tell you I love you
But with the age difference and distance
It's harder than you think
I want to be your knight in shining armor
I want to hold you from dusk to dawn
Watch the sun kiss you good morning
And listen to the lullaby of the moon
Lure you to sleep
I want to be there when you awake
To taste your lips
To feel you closer to me
I want to hear you laugh
When I say good morning in my stupid little way
"Wakey wakey eggs and bakey
Biscuits and sausage gravy
Now WAKE THE **** UP
And enjoy the day"
I want to tell you I love you
I want you to have my heart
I know you will make better use of it
Than I had with it in 17 years
It's easy to smile when I talk to you
I can't describe in any metaphor
Or complex simile how you make me feel
I trust you
I love you
I wish you could understand
How hard it is for me to do that
But I know what I want because of you
I want to make you happy
I want to love you
Like no other person on Earth
Could even begin to imagine
How to love you that much
I'm a little drunk
So before I say your name
I'll end this with three words
I Love You ;)
I hope you like it. I wrote this for you. If I was sober it would of been better.
Science Apr 2013
something happened

*and then again

   and again

but it is all just an unfocused merge of subconscious creations now

but it did go something like this

oh the
wind and the trees

and the cuts on my knees

..and the running away from whatever it is behind me

and again
and a jump and then
i fall

and as i look up, i see me

yes it's me

  and i smile at myself and offer a hand up
'cos there's really nothing to be scared of

it's just  **me
and then it merges away again..........
     but such is the nature of dreams
st64 Apr 2013
'Prayer is a free outgoing call to G-d
No battery,
No charging,
No network problems.

Always a good signal
Endless talk-time.'
So, keep praying ...and

Happy Day!

Does your heart really have to break a little before you can do anything creative?

But first, to curb dismal overflow

I must soar......

There's no rider on a white horse here
Lament not rain on your windowpane
Would you mind if I told you that....I

What means a room full of flowers?


                          :(too late):


Thank you for keeping on your lighthouse
For closing the door (gently) in my face
For helping me reach (some) rescue
For teaching me my place
For reminding me.....

Yes, you may.
Bye now, no more words from me.

Yeah, Happy Day.

S T, 25 April 2013
Does the heart really have to....?

Let's pray, shall we :)
andy fardell Jan 2012
sleepy sleep

sleep in sleep in sleepy town
my eyes need wakey up
sleepy sleep my bed does call
me lids so glued there stuck

look at me at half past three
a hedge still in me hair
eyes so red a cameras light
saucers oh my dear

give me bed a silent night
cos sleepy snooze is me
time to snore and wake you up
me fidgits sleepy sleep  

na na night its time for kip
me bed is calling me
clocking tick soon far away
a dream of dreams i see

rise and shine yet i need more
some sleep will do me good
bags of spuds upon each cheek
come on dont wake me up

sleepy in as sleepy does
im staying where i am
soon be dinner oh thats good
a lay in i'll be dammed
Miley Cyrus Jan 2015
You mellow
Sweet little kitty
Innocent before you entered society
When you entered middle school and realized the world wasn't all puppies...mad smiles
Soft kitty
Look at your past
Yes you were drained into a whole new persona
And you were forced to see your life differently
You've always been the outcast
No matter how hard you tried to fit in
You struggled as people spit on you
**** on you
As you...slowly believed it
Then all at once
....but soft kitt I feel it
This year...this month...this week...this day....
Is redemption time
You know your past
What you've been through
Bullying, insecurity, anxiety, shyness...
The past is over
The present is infinite
Life is a mystery
Follow your bliss...
"Wakey, wakey, sleepy head" the woman's voice was cheerful and playful as she threw a glass of cold water in the unconscious man's face.  "Wha, wha, what happened?  Did I fall asleep?" asked the man.  As the man opened his eyes he tried to move but couldn't.  
Looking around he realized he was in an upright position eagle spread.  Each wrist and ankle was shackled, locked, and chained.  "I'm not into locks and chains. I'm the one paying for ***.  You have to do what I want" said the man with slurred speech.
"Poor, poor, little man I'm not a *******.  I just pose as one on the internet and in the streets.  That's how I get pigs like you" said the woman with an evil grin.  "I know you didn't think a woman as beautiful as my wife would be interested in someone like you" said a tall figure as he emerged out of the darkness behind the shackled man.  With fear in his eyes the shackled man asked who they were.
"My name is Linda Locklear and this is my husband Rusty Locklear" said Linda.  "Enough with the small talk.  Linda go get the work tools" said Rusty.  "As you command daddy" said Linda.
Walking past their victim into the darkness Linda grabbed the cold steel push cart and brought it to Rusty.  "Will you just look at all these toys" said Rusty with his eyes lit up like a child at Christmas.  "What do we have here? " said Linda.  
Reaching her arm out over the items on the push cart in the motion of a snake Linda became sexually aroused.   "We have a hammer, scalpel, acid, nail gun, and an ice pick" said Linda with her voice filled with excitement.   ******* himself their victim began to cry.
"Linda this is your victim so you have to inflict the first wound" said Rusty.  Responding to Rusty's words Linda picked up the nail gun.  "Linda you don't have to do this" pleaded the man.  "I have kids that I provide for.  My name is Timothy Yates.  I have a wife said" Timothy.
Linda silenced Timothy with a swift kick to the testicles.  "Look Rusty it actually think we care about its pathetic little life" said Linda.  Placing the muzzle of the nail gun on Timothy's foot Linda pulled the trigger.  Firing a hard sharp nail into Timothy's foot blood squirted into the air.

Written Keith Edward Baucum
A horror story
Shadowing entities protrude towards your bed from yonder windows hazed light. Crying is no option for fear that this may stir something lurking out there in the darkness. Shrugging beds cover upward to protect your face and hands, well inside lest they be gripped by the night.

Foetal position, curled with hands wrapped around knees, eyes gripped tightly pining for sleep to transport you away to safer ground. Sought after sleep that will never arrive lest you forget to think.

Temples pound a beating drum. slightest sound ekes disaster like a thunderous gun blasting through your brain. finest breeze now a gale, the cold wind causing hair to stand upright stirring tingling pebbled skin. shivering at every inhale of breath, whilst sweat finds its flowing course.

Creaking noises of a living structure ponder audibly throughout the stillness as imaginary movement is conceived, sensed objects move delicately as this flurry of the underworld works its way into an already over worn mind.  

Suddenly the lamenting cries of night torn animal carry up the stair from the darkness below, feline hissing following that same tread to your so sensitive hearing.

Each waft of air an heckling of wandering soul abound to walk freely this hallowed eve, touching the rigidity of young tender body. Mindful of stories told that very night and curses aimed toward the teller of such.

Blasts of light contain certain blindness and panic as you fight to avoid this incarnation that rips away bedding from young skin.

“Wakey Wakey rise and shine.”
Payton Elizabeth Dec 2016
“I love your worst days because thats when you breakdown and I get to rebuild you.”
My sculptor
“Wakey wakey eggs and bakey.”
My alarm clock
“ You won’t breakdown, I know how to keep your composure”
My rock
“ I just basically learned from loosing you that you can’t take anything for granted…”
My student
“I love you means that I accept you for the person that you are and that I do not wish to change you into someone else…”
My acceptor
“I don’t know I want to give you everything.”
My caregiver
“I think marrying you is the only thing I’m really actually sure about.” My future
“I just want you to know that I’m sorry.”
My apologizer
“I always feel like I’m missing something when I’m not with you.”
My other half
“You did really good tonight. Whenever you did something good i was like that’s my girl!! Even when you fell off the beam I still said that’s my girl.”
My cheerleader
“Me you dinner and a movie Friday night. Dinner at 8, late movie. I’ll pick you up around 7:47, be ready.”
My event planner
"You’re my moment.”
*My purpose
Breeze-Mist Sep 2016
Wakey wakey
Big mistakey
This is a direct quote from my friend, whom I am calling H.
Nigel Morgan Sep 2012
Just taking time out to see who's on the park. Been here for a while and there are a few guys who know what the board's for. There's a lad from Deptford who can turn a neat Olley on a Grind. Bit of a curiosity with my long board and northern street style. Had a couple of skate offs and found where the cracks are. Pulled the shoulder AGAIN but nothing serious. Thought there might be the odd ramp here seeing as it's London, the South Bank and all.

Been working on my rotationals. Three Sixty is just fine but the Five Forty is ****. I don't think any of these guys here know what a One Seventy is. Well they do now.

Nobody here seems to skate off-park even though there are some well good grind rails and step jumps. Too many people about I suppose.

 Saw this lass hitting Toe Edge to Heal Edge turns - VERY bright. Wappo better watch out! She's got him covered. The guys from Wakey would probably clean up down here, but we're guerilla skaters and would probably have the 'ol blue boys on our backs if we did the business. Maybe we should do a recce one weekend? Sleep on my sister's floor.

Reckon Paris is better though - there's those parcours guys about to show you the space. When my Dad goes to Centre Pompidou there's all these great buskers - some serious ****. Nobody playing anything round here.

Ok back to the park and a few Primos I reckon. Seen no one doing a glimmer of a Rail Stand so time to clean up a bit.
My son is a sk8t . . .
Renée Brookes Feb 2017
Hey, wakey wakey!
You have a job to tend to,
Didn't you hear me?
Haiku #3 / Inspiration: My lazy *** .
Nat Lipstadt Mar 2015
The Marginal Difference
Tween Child And Adult**

awake Sunday stuff to do...
another unit of life decapsulated,
where one will compromise
with all those lofty
make believe dreamy would-be goals
that course thru the brain,
when sleepy morphs into
the to do list at the premier  of today's
wacky wakey consciousness movie

and a poem forms on lips
that have not yet been
into adult responsibility

the list purview'd,
and you purvey,
foresee, attending,
bend back that pointer finger
looking right at ya guiltily

one and enough,
believe getting that one done,
will be
satisfyingly crossed off that
tatooed list
of the unavoidable

one will make the
marginal difference....
tween child and adult
Sunday, Pi + 1, 2015
Big Virge Sep 2019
Girls These Days ...
Are So ... Confused ... ???
They Seem To Be ...
In ... " Alices' Shoes " ... !?!
YES ... " Wonderland " ... ?!?
Well ....
I'll Be ... ****** ... !!!
Before I Fall .........................................
Into The Hands ...
of A Girl Whose Life's A ...  
........ " Sham" .......
Saying ... One Thing ...
But Doing ... Another ... ?!?

RUSHING Home ...
To Watch ... "Big Brother" ... !!!!!
Girls Like THESE ... !!!
Should NOT BE ... Mothers ... !!!

Because Their Child ...
Will Surely ... SUFFER ... !!!!!
Suffer FROM .............................
Her ... " Confusion " ... ?!?
Come On Girls ...
I'm ... NOT The One ... !!!!!
Mess With Me ...
And You'll Be ...  

... " STUNNED " ... !!!!!
NOT With ... Violence ...  
Or A .... " Gun " .... !!! ....
But With ... "THIS" ...  

Simple ... " Wisdom " ...
"Rise and shine" ...
Face The World ...
and Do What's Right ... !!!
DON'T Get ... "Trapped" ...  
In ..... "Your Mirage" ..... !!!!

Or ... A World ....
of ... " Tarot Cards " ...
See Yourself ...
For Who ... YOU ARE ... !!!
Don't Do Things ...
That You'll ... REGRET ... !!!
Like ... JUMPING IN ...
A ... STRANGERS Bed ... !!!!!

Make ... A STAND ...
And ... STICK TO IT ... !!!!!
Instead of S P R E A D I N G ...
THOSE ... WET LIPS ... !!!!!
DON'T ... Get VEX ... !!!
or ... Get UPSET ....
Because ... " CONFUSION " ...
RULED .... Your Head .... !?!
"Yeah, but you,
were making moves !!!"
"So were you, which goes to prove,
you were wanting me to woo !
Come on now, did I force you,
to come and sleep, in my bedroom ?"
"No, but now I feel abused !
We moved to fast !
I've thought it through,
and don't think that,
I'm right for you !!!"
"Okay, that's cool,
but, let me prove
something to you,
we kissed and stuff,
and then we hugged,
but, when I said,
we should get up
you put me in,
a tight armlock ?
Now you're saying,
you wanted to TALK ?!?
It seems you have
some things to sort
inside your mind.
Take that walk
I'll give you time,
but, don't complain
if I refrain, from letting you,
confuse my brain !
Figure out, what it is you need,
then come back, and talk to me.
Otherwise, let's both be free,
to be with, who we want to be !
But, don't be playing, games with me
My name's Big Virge, not Monopoly !"
Life to me, is not a dream
Talk is cheap, but, actions speak.
So, stop your talk, and walk the walk !"
Don't kiss me, on our first date !
and change your mind, the very next day ?"
Come on now,  give me a break !
Such confusion, breeds delusion,
and a premature conclusion !"
"I don't know you !!!
You don't know me !!!
You may be right ?
but let's wait and see.
Let's take some time,
the date went fine !
It's not my fault,
you crossed the line !
What can I say ?
I'm a **** guy !
Who'll give you lows,
as well as HIGHS !  
Every couple,
has their troubles !
and sometimes, yes,
fall down and stumble,
but, getting up,
is part of the fun,
and helps reduce,
our confusion"
"Opposites attract,
like, white and black
I suggest, you remember that !"
"But, firstly you,
must face the facts,
about the things,
you sometimes do,
Then I can, make love to you !"
Those Are Words ...
On Which To ... CHEW ...
Take Some Time ...
And ... Think It Through ...  
And Then ...  You Won't Be ...
So ....
...  " Confused " ... ?!?
Written about a woman, who was also a poet !

So, maybe the confusion came from that factor, as much as anything else !

However, this was written with a smile on my face, when I thought of the CRAZINESS that happened within days of us engaging in let's say, intimacies .... !!!!!
Julie Grenness Jan 2017
Wakey! Wakey! Brrrrring!
My clock does start its ring,
That'd be quite a shock,
If into the bin, I threw the clock,
No, its wake up o'clock,
Do you all hate your clocks?
Feedback welcome.
andy fardell Feb 2011
Early is the wrong time
a long time to be on
early is to early to wakey up inside
early aint so easy.. aint no freedom to live
earlys just to early to get out me pit

so stay in bed and dream a little
live a little at night
wake to some songbirds some sunshine breaking in
wake stretchin armiiess and leggiees and lots of tea
wake up at the right time and not the early we live
Poetic T Sep 2016
There were whispers among those that heard
echoes through others voices.
Spilling vacant lots of urban mythes of what was
perpetrated in different places but never was an
ounce of truth weighted upon breath.

I had a spoken version of what I was envisioned as.
One had been a breath away from my features, I had
let him linger in a purgatory of thoughtlessness to
who or what was being purposed on this moment then
he became a architect of my latest art form or death.

[The Hang Man]
Before I let him speak his truths I had ended his momentary
glee at the thought of my expulsion. We cant have that can
we, I'm an urban myth of what was perpetrated on the
fictitious thoughts of others belief that they were but an
ending of what had lead to this inevitable closure.

Now silent gazes I look at, each and all see that blink in
dejection of what is inevitable. I give them a moment of
saturated hope hands stretched out as if to help,
but there terminal in this existence and I play that final
grim moment of what is another note in my book of what befells.

This is no different, he was a moment of relaxation on my
imaginative moment, he was a tapestry of creation, a choke
hold of no trauma was the recipe of his unconsciousness.
I prodded his stomach in playful jest, wakey, waskey
dead man walking, or barely standing shoud I say.

I spoke words only heard once different upon those l looked upon

"Can your breath escape the suffocation of this knot
that lingers around my life,

[Needle work]
Like a moment frozen, erasing the time between the realities
of contemplated normalcy and the fractured whispers of
imagery that stains my mind. I see the world in a perspective
of not colours but emotions and I step off the precipice of
reality and I see clearly.

"I am a kite flying on the ceiling of my coffin,

But everything that rises must fall, collapsing beneath the
boot of authenticity, and vibrate motifs shatter to behold
existence, I tremble under the offence of the rope that binds
me as death smiles in satisfaction of my eagerness to rise above.

Telling me that I am but a needle in the tread of wasted time,
I am a balloon punctured with feathers and I am exhausting
his time as I linger between the steps of here and nothingness.
Awaking in a hospital bed I vow to never be here again.

Its tied around my arm, and I'm vacant, sober of regret but I
must rise like the kite I am, flying above morality I will never
fall. Until an aroma of disillusion lingers and my string is finally cut.
I am not embraced in deaths palm, instead I am a patchwork
of regret and for eternity its sewn into my fibre I am no longer a kite.

[Pills Drowning The Silence]
I wonder around the halls of my mind, looking in rooms of
forgotten memories the faces scratched out and vacant.
I speak to them asking why did you do this, and as the
deformed emotion looks at me no visible motion but
laughter reverberates through my mind and I grasp at
my mind and scream in censorship of those in ear shot.

I count them on the side like sheep over a white cloud that
covers them in the bottle 1-2-3-4-
                                                      ­  5-6-7-8-9-10...
                                           ­  40-9-38-37-36
So many sheep that wish to be jump from that bottle to
my waiting taste buds. Sugar coated moments fall like
raindrops down my oesophagus coalescing in the
pit of my remorse. I feel them fizzing away bubbling away
in my memories and I giggle in as my eyes stretch open
and time slows down and I hear the voices in my head clapping.

Oh well, everything is a moment and mine is slowing down
and I can actually sleep peacefully, not be tortured by the
concussion of repeated images of your motions in my head.
I smile, I haven't done that for so long anger was my angel
and she cut deep into others. I hear these singular words.

"I ingest the purity of the world and slumber evermore,

[When The Flames Consumed]
I looked into the word that lingers between light and darkness
I saw only the reasoning that all obscurity was a moment of
purity that became blistered and corroded. Liquid was just air
in fluidic form, Untaintedness but when it became enveloped
upon my being I was drowning between the voids.

I was neither alive or dead, I was submerged in the suffering,
screams that echoed around my form but nothing was exhausted
from me. But others that were sieged on the sight before them,
I told them my sorrow, telling them with the formation of light.
Without a word I was enveloped in the words of chastity.

"I am but ash in the flames of my agony,

I watched the others that never knew I perceived what they
were going through, they were my "suicide kings,
I treasured ever moment of their ending and the suffering
they endured was not be questioned, but they were kings
upon the bones of men. My offerings never suffered they
were kings in the thrones of pain and now they are free....
Arlene Corwin Dec 2017

A scien’terrific, spiri’tool
To fool around with; a reality
The best of microscopes can see
And measure.
Pure arithme-ticking over,
Showering the brain with light;
Sparks queueing up in scans,
A cue to IQ variations, and
The more the better.
Riches of all human wishes lying there
Waiting to be bared then shared:
Nature in infinitude.

One good turn deserves another;
One good synapse serves another.
“Wakey, wakey” here comes knowledge!
Insights new, fresh out of college!
Insights causing you to grow;
Daring you to dare to go;
Blowing horns you dared not blow.
Synapse and invention new;
By definition a new you.

I’m signing off with love (or luff),
This synapse stuff the glove
That warms,
Synapses’ arms
The magic charm.

Synapses 12.9.2017 Circling Round Science II; To The Child Mystic II; Arlene Corwin
I love this one.  Thought of it, wrote it in the bath, soaking paper and all.
Connor Apr 2016
Forest phantom imagery
haunting stereophonic instrumentals
from Murals
whispering     on in nights    fine tent
wrapt up in my sleeping bag and only hearing dynamite as clouds
pass into the afterlife and
the moon has blossomed
the ocean!
Whole Blue Cliff Record lit in here on a bright canvas,
trees can see me saving paper,
Asian telltales, poetics,
and Buddhist Zen philosophy
swirls in my Mystic/Sombrio harp-brain
vivid by lucid shrillness
(achey wakey!!)
Turn the pillow
snap a mental image of that modern monk,
imaginary in his waterfront Salvation Army and his
Glass Temple and his
blasted literature.
His tearful dreams, logical processes... so that it's okay (zzz) always (zzzzz) what's that up there, Shiva?
I am atom, you are ATOMIC
There's a difference here I promise (ASTRONOMICAL)

The waves demand their presence to be known by periodic lion-like clamor, my lips are dry from fireside cider and absolute darkness fills up this space like water, oh cosmic libertine! Snap their starless net to catch the sea and a luminous fish which I may be presented with like inky flashes of thought courtesy of the streetlight moon who's pale properties signal GO
to those willing to decipher it's surface from this far away..
All the quiet beat down trees murmur muffled truth.

This truth is only available to dogs and Christ,
but not me, not any normal soul who's mortal vision is too blurred to make anything out of yet..this Springtime tapestry just a fragment
which may be faintly audible past the waves
who try their best to stamp it out of perception.
But I am feeling particularly meditative tonight!
I'll at the very least stroke the thin top layer of absolute knowledge
and do so with heightened, trained consciousness..
when the moment is right
which may not be now
(definitely not now)
quelled by flesh and sleepy daze,
onyx silk covering us in warmth..but I will get there!
An Everest for any to see but exclusive to those who can.
Climbing higher in years
emotional trials
loves and fears
or passing seasons where I signify the apparent shift with
a name
Out from under
But not yet completely unwrapped from
The Mosaic
to see it all stretched open,
beautiful and tragic.
I dreamed a summer day today
it never worked out that way,

it's blowing a gale
time to put on our coats
man the lifeboats
going over the side.

And it's wakey, wakey
someone takes me
from sleep to this.

always half out hanging in
and it's usually the end
before I begin.

He's having tea and by him
I mean me, but
too early to see who
I am.
Eryri Jan 1
Bubbled bath,
Relaxing in the aftermath
Of a crazy Christmas Day:
"Wakey wakey" at 5.00am
Play. Eat. Play. Eat. Repeat.
Until 8.00pm
When the batteries finally ran flat.
Amanda Shelton Aug 2017
It’s sad to be judged
by the love of your life.

You wouldn’t think
that someone you love
could do anything like that.

Because love isn’t mean,
love isn’t boastful,
love isn’t a lie,
love isn’t a beautiful day,
love isn’t a fairy tale,
love isn’t a glass slipper.

Love is complicated,
love is hard,
love is painful,
love is gooy, oozing all the time,
love is scratchy,
love is wakey,
love is full of it,
love is pushy,
love is never changing.

It is the person who uses it,
who makes it,
forms it,
sculpt it into
a piece of art,
sometimes they use
the wrong glue
so it falls apart.

**© 2017 Amanda Shelton
Sungmoo Bae Sep 10
Call me a medicine man,
and yeah, I'll be there for you sure,
dedicated to you only,
to help the one without a cure.

    Once I step inside your heart
    you'll begin to doze off,

and those shaky hands will be soothed
while letting your head rock to and fro; can't be helped.
You'd be my tiny little sleepyhead
holding that little dose in your palm

    and you'll soon wander off
    deep into the neverland of your own version,

forgetful of human senses:
the striking smell, the taste to savour,
the sound the music that is ever whimsical,
the bright light and the dim dark.

And I reckon you already like it
all surrounded by the forgetfulness
- the numbing sensations nullifying your will to rise,
and the pleasure finds shelter within you.

    Then in your dream
    you start to want me more,

    not knowing the impending consequences
    of forgetting all about yourself,

of drowning
further into the river
that we all call the sorrow,
and of falling faster and farther

until you know nowhere to return.
I call out "Wakey-wakey," then,
prying open your eyes and every doors
that'll lead you outside with haste

- the light shines upon your pupils
still drowned in tears,
bewildered, with your legs wobbling.
Yet you're no longer my sleepyhead anyway,

    so walk on, off with you,
    carry on with your stiff legs

    - though you pretty much look like
    you'll need a stick just to stand upright -

    and do come see me
    if you ever need me again.
If interested, you can also visit my Facebook page as well:

(C) Copyright: Saul Bae

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