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"withstanding" poems
I hear of your struggles In every way You tell me of them Over and over and over And I feel mixed Twisted On one side honored You trust me enough to tell me But on the other side worried For how this consumes you I found you in the midst of Dark Shining as the brightest Light Undeterred by the greatest of evils And I was forever in awe As a moth to its light But instead of finding my solace in your warmth You dimmed Once withstanding anything thrown at you, But instead finding darkness to come From a place least expected: From those closest And the Dark took you Elated in its clever nature Now you complain Over matters you would have brushed aside I can see this aura around you While once filled with the greatest Light, Now lies tinged with specks of black And I can see it consuming you Perhaps I was naïve Searching for something different in our world A source of Light Rather than a consumer of it I’m glad I was able to witness your brilliance As it taught me many things No matter how brilliant your light, The greatest Light Only shows in times of the greatest darkness Beaming into the Dark A hopeless task Yet filled with the greatest Hope of all
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Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 2:49 PM UTC
The Greatest Light
this door exists, stately and staunchly it stands, disheartening and terrifying it remains. the door is unlocked, yet cannot be opened, for in it, a path in time... one decision that can affect everything [such as my choice to wear the necklace you adore, which lead to you noticing me for the very first time, or my idea to play you the song that you fell in love with, which i can no longer listen to] ...for in this door, one path is intimidatingly located. every bone in my body, every last muscle, tendon, ligament each artery, each vein, each capillary every single nerve, even each microscopic cell, implores me not to open this tempting door... [it is almost as if my hand refuses to grasp the handle, to unleash the unknown upon me, the colossal chain of events that would ensue] the immensity of the unfamiliar, the unexplored, tends to perturb me. change is unnerving and is almost as chilling as an abandoned graveyard at midnight. but i bring my mind back to the door, yes! this preposterous door that i have contrived for myself. why is the **** so easily turned? why does it not put up somewhat of a fight, at least jolt me suddenly, as to frighten my curious heart? it is a constant battle between my body my mind and my heart as to which doors to open and which ones to leave ever so steadfastly closed. but never once has there been such a struggle for them to reach an understanding. somehow my heart, [even though a fraction of me, a fist, dripping in blood] is prevailing for the moment. my heart reaches for the handle, attempts to unclose the door... yet, with the best of its ability, withstanding my strong-willed and obstinate heart, my powerful body and commanding mind overcome this hostile takeover, and the door remains shut. it is my body, my skillful mouth, my soft, rose lips, my elegant tongue, and my vocal chords... all of these pieces must contrive the words, conceive the change, which will unveil the path that will forever alter us... slowly, opening the door. being as in love with you as i am, i will not let you slip away from my arms right now. but when we are not together [*i wish you’d have been there, i needed you there*] i stare at this humbling door. if i wait too long, i’ll forever lose you; for it is you who will make this choice for me, opening your own door, fearless and dauntless.
0
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 2:40 AM UTC
The Door
this door exists, stately and staunchly it stands, disheartening and terrifying it remains. the door is unlocked, yet cannot be opened, for in it, a path in time... one decision that can affect everything [such as my choice to wear the necklace you adore, which lead to you noticing me for the very first time, or my idea to play you the song that you fell in love with, which i can no longer listen to] ...for in this door, one path is intimidatingly located. every bone in my body, every last muscle, tendon, ligament each artery, each vein, each capillary every single nerve, even each microscopic cell, implores me not to open this tempting door... [it is almost as if my hand refuses to grasp the handle, to unleash the unknown upon me, the colossal chain of events that would ensue] the immensity of the unfamiliar, the unexplored, tends to perturb me. change is unnerving and is almost as chilling as an abandoned graveyard at midnight. but i bring my mind back to the door, yes! this preposterous door that i have contrived for myself. why is the **** so easily turned? why does it not put up somewhat of a fight, at least jolt me suddenly, as to frighten my curious heart? it is a constant battle between my body my mind and my heart as to which doors to open and which ones to leave ever so steadfastly closed. but never once has there been such a struggle for them to reach an understanding. somehow my heart, [even though a fraction of me, a fist, dripping in blood] is prevailing for the moment. my heart reaches for the handle, attempts to unclose the door... yet, with the best of its ability, withstanding my strong-willed and obstinate heart, my powerful body and commanding mind overcome this hostile takeover, and the door remains shut. it is my body, my skillful mouth, my soft, rose lips, my elegant tongue, and my vocal chords... all of these pieces must contrive the words, conceive the change, which will unveil the path that will forever alter us... slowly, opening the door. being as in love with you as i am, i will not let you slip away from my arms right now. but when we are not together [*i wish you’d have been there, i needed you there*] i stare at this humbling door. if i wait too long, i’ll forever lose you; for it is you who will make this choice for me, opening your own door, fearless and dauntless.
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71
Everlasting love is a commitment Ref 008 Everlasting love is a commitment. Virtual reality cannot ever compare Everlasting reality is my love for you Reality that continues unabated Longer than affairs of the heart As my darling I know you by heart Since the first Happy days meeting The first day of the rest of my life I discovered an everlasting love Not withstanding your aloof brow Golden are the moments shared Love's unconditional commitment Only true lovers understand it . Very close encounters promote it Especially within thy noble form I love you so much my Barbara So much once to inspire my mind As constant is my wish to praise Composing lines of loving prose On each and every living day. My mind races with the inspiration Mastering words of literary giants In songs of praise dedicated to thee Then understand my commitment My commitment ,to my darling girl Everlasting love is my commitment Not just for now but forever always Thank you for our life commitment ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Philip.
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Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 5:29 AM UTC
Everlasting love is a commitment (An Acrostic)
A place so permanent: concrete, metal, glass, immense and withstanding all. Yet they come and go. A place so permanent for an action so fleeting.
0
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC
on airports
Will you love me if I said I have AHDH (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) That I will jump before you speak Will be impatient to get my way I can love u and hate you at the same time I will nod, but not understand. Will you love me truly, even then? Cause your love will make all the difference. Will you love me if I said I have BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) That I will be so drawn to you That I'll throw myself at you That more often than ever I will question you if you me love too Then I'll doubt you if you do I'll accuse you of using me Then I'll offer myself to be used I will shunt between 2 shades There is no grey for me Will you love me truly, even then? Cause your love will make all the difference. Will you love me if I said I have Bipolar (Disorder) That my mood swings like a pendulum That I will drive you mad Or make you sad Or I'll laugh till I drop That you will never understand Who I am today Dealing with my situation Will depress you. I can literally **** your life out too. Will you love me truly, even then? Cause your love will make all the difference. Will you love me if I said I have NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) That I will always think of me That my dreams and aspirations will be so big I wont have time for empathy That I left my childhood behind So don't bug me with sensitivity I am afraid of your committment Cause no one can hold me still Will you love me truly, even then? Cause your love will make all the difference. Will you love me if I said I am terminally ill That my pain is unbearable My hope has dimmed out too And I can see no end to my misery But even though my life's a thread I really want to have a full life again I want to be able to trade my pain If someone would only be game. But I know it is not possible Hence I ask for what is Will you love me truly, even then? Cause your love will make all the difference. You see this world's bursting with people who ache! You and I have the difference to make. It is so easy to empathize With someone who pain is visible in daylight But spare a thought for those who ache inwardly Trapped in a battle with their minds eccentricity! If your courage be so strong That pain not withstanding you choose to bond Live that life that gives glory Share that love, that speaks a story Love ceaselessly, love like it truly is! Love above humans no one can Cause loving like HIM, Needs a supreme hand!
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Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 5:09 AM UTC
Will you love me if I said
Will you love me if I said I have AHDH (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) That I will jump before you speak Will be impatient to get my way I can love u and hate you at the same time I will nod, but not understand. Will you love me truly, even then? Cause your love will make all the difference. Will you love me if I said I have BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) That I will be so drawn to you That I'll throw myself at you That more often than ever I will question you if you me love too Then I'll doubt you if you do I'll accuse you of using me Then I'll offer myself to be used I will shunt between 2 shades There is no grey for me Will you love me truly, even then? Cause your love will make all the difference. Will you love me if I said I have Bipolar (Disorder) That my mood swings like a pendulum That I will drive you mad Or make you sad Or I'll laugh till I drop That you will never understand Who I am today Dealing with my situation Will depress you. I can literally **** your life out too. Will you love me truly, even then? Cause your love will make all the difference. Will you love me if I said I have NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) That I will always think of me That my dreams and aspirations will be so big I wont have time for empathy That I left my childhood behind So don't bug me with sensitivity I am afraid of your committment Cause no one can hold me still Will you love me truly, even then? Cause your love will make all the difference. Will you love me if I said I am terminally ill That my pain is unbearable My hope has dimmed out too And I can see no end to my misery But even though my life's a thread I really want to have a full life again I want to be able to trade my pain If someone would only be game. But I know it is not possible Hence I ask for what is Will you love me truly, even then? Cause your love will make all the difference. You see this world's bursting with people who ache! You and I have the difference to make. It is so easy to empathize With someone who pain is visible in daylight But spare a thought for those who ache inwardly Trapped in a battle with their minds eccentricity! If your courage be so strong That pain not withstanding you choose to bond Live that life that gives glory Share that love, that speaks a story Love ceaselessly, love like it truly is! Love above humans no one can Cause loving like HIM, Needs a supreme hand!
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75
I have always been weary of putting names in my poems in fear that I will never be able to take my confessions back but when is a good day to tell you that I have loved you in every lifetime In the past we were entangled in each other One life we were shooting stars another we laid lazily in fields of wildflowers a love too strong to explain through words so we didn’t speak instead you embodied the beauty of spring a way to remind us of those April days when nothing existed outside of each other We hid our love behind buttercups and daisies maybe that’s why I love to bring you flowers to feel the flicker of a spark we shared in a lifetime so long ago In another lifetime we read quietly together over coffee in smoky French cafe’s we underlined passages that we would read each other in secret our love withstanding a time when it was criminal to look at one another with the type of love we shared I don’t know if I have ever loved you loudly there are no muscle memories of me shouting your name from rooftops or unapologetically holding your hand without fear of repercussions —even now I don’t know how to form the words “I love you” without looking around to see who’s listening even after all this time I love you in secret I still can’t put your name in my poems but i promise in one of our lifetimes I’ll write your name in every poem and tell you that I’m in love with you out loud someday the words won’t feel stuck in my throat but I hope that’s in a lifetime sooner than later
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Mar 7, 2021
Mar 7, 2021 at 10:02 AM UTC
Vanilla Curls
I have always been weary of putting names in my poems in fear that I will never be able to take my confessions back but when is a good day to tell you that I have loved you in every lifetime In the past we were entangled in each other One life we were shooting stars another we laid lazily in fields of wildflowers a love too strong to explain through words so we didn’t speak instead you embodied the beauty of spring a way to remind us of those April days when nothing existed outside of each other We hid our love behind buttercups and daisies maybe that’s why I love to bring you flowers to feel the flicker of a spark we shared in a lifetime so long ago In another lifetime we read quietly together over coffee in smoky French cafe’s we underlined passages that we would read each other in secret our love withstanding a time when it was criminal to look at one another with the type of love we shared I don’t know if I have ever loved you loudly there are no muscle memories of me shouting your name from rooftops or unapologetically holding your hand without fear of repercussions —even now I don’t know how to form the words “I love you” without looking around to see who’s listening even after all this time I love you in secret I still can’t put your name in my poems but i promise in one of our lifetimes I’ll write your name in every poem and tell you that I’m in love with you out loud someday the words won’t feel stuck in my throat but I hope that’s in a lifetime sooner than later
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41
While they noticed the stretch of kohl in her eyes, I could see a pacific of emotions trapped. While they admired her blushing cheeks, I could read the paleness she painted red. While they were going gaga over her smirk, I could fathom the depth of pain that debarred a hearty gale. While they were lured by the cascade of her hair when she unscrewed the bun, I could feel the onus of the tantrums she wanted to turf out. While they were hypnotized by her mesmeric curves, I was stunned by the withstanding efficacy of such a fragile body. While they adored her attire and scarves, I could trace the bruises she carried with poise. While they were hung up by the glory of her face, I could do no help but ride out at the scars she concealed with sprightliness which was the most beautiful thing my eyes could ever have a view of and it left me dazed... And my mouth wide opened. -Aparajita Tripathi
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Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 3:36 PM UTC
She was beautiful.
I'm exhausted with life Lost all enthusiasm for it I get nothing done.. falling behind . I feel I'm losing touch. Seems the hat drops more frequently never in the same spot causing both my eyelids to quiver nails digging in the skin palms cuff my ears trying to mute the sound when it lands. Withstanding as much as I can before I black out . Waking up eyes sore matted shut.                       The lump in my throat still there from   the night before. Never cared so little. Never have I just stopped watching     the moon fall asleep having my coffee telling the sun good morning
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Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 8:24 PM UTC
Goodnight sunlight....
mean beam bottom ***** without reluctance. \\ air above \\ since forever baby boy: since forever liquid sparkler. he has sense & peanut butter jelly geography to his page. his romance is of the west. his eyes are of dandelions kicked & to the wind. he moves like ancient turtle migration. reaches feet to sidewalk \\ sand to depths \\ ride \\ night: velcro-tightened mind withstanding. party lights, ***** willows, retro punch, he is orpheus descending: with all the elements positioned just so. \\ jellyfish electric \\ he says he likes the loneliness. he says it’s the water. & so he moves \\ wills himself into the next measure. liquid resolute bits. so move \\ orca \\ curl of eye \\ so ride \\ black rollo wave \\ basilica \\ & \\ coral reaches below \\\\\ he likes to tell it, with warmed exaggeration. slow-motion buffalo stampede. ride the railroads free & easy. orange glowing bars of elsewhere. oscillating seal calls. oily portland hipsters howling on the beach. those juno cheeked rosy-red lips. somewhere, sister getting married. spring, summer, fall, winter, spring. africa girl on a branch of a tree of a forest, overlooking elephant burial grounds. color & white material: plantations, gas stations, diners, & sharks. this is the morning lunar \\ sweet blue beach of the old & awakening. he crawls out & into her breaks. her deep heights & bombora reef. the serotonin functions twice, exposed between thin tissues of warm-blooded neurochemistry. human, shown. he is as a raw page, blank, yet dipped \\ \\ so ride \\ bulbous waves of air mother agua \\ ride \\ & \\ ride \\ & brew by light these occurrences forever.
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Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 4:41 AM UTC
the loneliness of the longboard surfer
mean beam bottom ***** without reluctance. \\ air above \\ since forever baby boy: since forever liquid sparkler. he has sense & peanut butter jelly geography to his page. his romance is of the west. his eyes are of dandelions kicked & to the wind. he moves like ancient turtle migration. reaches feet to sidewalk \\ sand to depths \\ ride \\ night: velcro-tightened mind withstanding. party lights, ***** willows, retro punch, he is orpheus descending: with all the elements positioned just so. \\ jellyfish electric \\ he says he likes the loneliness. he says it’s the water. & so he moves \\ wills himself into the next measure. liquid resolute bits. so move \\ orca \\ curl of eye \\ so ride \\ black rollo wave \\ basilica \\ & \\ coral reaches below \\\\\ he likes to tell it, with warmed exaggeration. slow-motion buffalo stampede. ride the railroads free & easy. orange glowing bars of elsewhere. oscillating seal calls. oily portland hipsters howling on the beach. those juno cheeked rosy-red lips. somewhere, sister getting married. spring, summer, fall, winter, spring. africa girl on a branch of a tree of a forest, overlooking elephant burial grounds. color & white material: plantations, gas stations, diners, & sharks. this is the morning lunar \\ sweet blue beach of the old & awakening. he crawls out & into her breaks. her deep heights & bombora reef. the serotonin functions twice, exposed between thin tissues of warm-blooded neurochemistry. human, shown. he is as a raw page, blank, yet dipped \\ \\ so ride \\ bulbous waves of air mother agua \\ ride \\ & \\ ride \\ & brew by light these occurrences forever.
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44
Everlasting love is a commitment Everlasting love is a commitment. Virtual reality cannot ever compare Everlasting reality is my love for you Reality that continues unabated Longer than affairs of the heart As my darling I know you by heart Since the first Happy days meeting The first day of the rest of my life I discovered an everlasting love Not withstanding your aloof brow Golden are the moments shared Love's unconditional commitment Only true lovers understand it . Very close encounters promote it Especially within thy noble form I love you so much my Barbara So much once to inspire my mind As constant is my wish to praise Composing lines of loving prose On each and every living day. My mind races with the inspiration Mastering words of literary giants In songs of praise dedicated to thee Then understand my commitment My commitment ,to my darling girl Everlasting love is my commitment Not just for now but forever always Thank you for our life commitment ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Philip. 22nd January. 2017
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Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 2:20 AM UTC
Everlasting love is a commitment.
every night before i sleep, without fail, romance fills my mind how hopeless, how naive, however you wish to call me but i think it's time to finally pick the red glass shards off the dark wooden shelf that is so full of dust, i hardly recognize it i cradle the glass in my hands withstanding the sharp red melting her into sweet honey and knowing the broken glass, is nothing but temporary i am not left without impurities with sharp edges and deformities but i am whole again and i will not let anyone drop it again because i will wait for an eternity to find someone who puts the glass up against the sunlight and admires its beauty i will find a love like mine someone who indulges in flowers and dream like christmas dates and holding my small hands there is no doubt about it i am a realistic romantic and i like you deserve to be loved, endlessly so
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Oct 6, 2023
Oct 6, 2023 at 5:40 PM UTC
i deserve to be loved
Ragged mountains and rough terrains, Withstanding storms and heavy rains. Warm rays of sunshine bring light. Bearing hues of black and white. To the touch it feels like a freshly mowed lawn. A promise of tummy tickling at dawn. A relaxing walk in an uninhabited forest. A tempestuous hike to the top of Everest. You could be a renegade or a mad scientist An investment banker or electric guitarist. A biker's beard could be just as immaculate. Rough as sandpaper or soft as velvet.
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May 21, 2019
May 21, 2019 at 8:00 AM UTC
BEARDS REMIND ME OF...
Tough girl isn't afraid of much Tough girl is strong And brave Tough girl has mastered the art of apathy The science of not giving a **** She is confident And swift Tough girl has trained herself not to care Walks with confidence Keeps her head up She is a whirlwind of resilience Withstanding each disaster Every hurricane She refuses to let the world break her down Her skin Is a combination of metals Her smile, a shield Bone made of iron She is incapable of corrosion Her heart always guarded She is unbreakable Knows how to put up a fight And win She doesn't give in And no matter how hard people try To bring her down She doesn't let them get to her But I Am not her Our resemblance is uncanny And I have the ability to pretend To fake a sense of pride long enough to believe it A concoction of false courage And intimidation But she Is not me Tough girl is everything I have ever tried to be Having spent hours practicing blank stares And learning how to walk Like the ground below you isn't breaking Trying to breathe like there isn't a storm building within Resistance is a skill I have spent forever trying to build But I am not solid I am not tough I am softness that wears rough around the edges A jacket built of barriers With barbed wire skin All of this protection And I somehow still manage To frequently break open I am not a super hero I can barely save myself Let alone anyone else And as much as I wish I was I am not tough girl As much as we look alike As similar as we seem I am not she I care too much Think too deeply And love too passionately But I'm starting to realize That maybe It's not such a bad thing Maybe the girl I've been trying to be all along Is not as put together as she seems Those who appear fine Are often the ones coming apart at the seams I may not be tough girl But I can still make believe.
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Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
Tough Girl
Tough girl isn't afraid of much Tough girl is strong And brave Tough girl has mastered the art of apathy The science of not giving a **** She is confident And swift Tough girl has trained herself not to care Walks with confidence Keeps her head up She is a whirlwind of resilience Withstanding each disaster Every hurricane She refuses to let the world break her down Her skin Is a combination of metals Her smile, a shield Bone made of iron She is incapable of corrosion Her heart always guarded She is unbreakable Knows how to put up a fight And win She doesn't give in And no matter how hard people try To bring her down She doesn't let them get to her But I Am not her Our resemblance is uncanny And I have the ability to pretend To fake a sense of pride long enough to believe it A concoction of false courage And intimidation But she Is not me Tough girl is everything I have ever tried to be Having spent hours practicing blank stares And learning how to walk Like the ground below you isn't breaking Trying to breathe like there isn't a storm building within Resistance is a skill I have spent forever trying to build But I am not solid I am not tough I am softness that wears rough around the edges A jacket built of barriers With barbed wire skin All of this protection And I somehow still manage To frequently break open I am not a super hero I can barely save myself Let alone anyone else And as much as I wish I was I am not tough girl As much as we look alike As similar as we seem I am not she I care too much Think too deeply And love too passionately But I'm starting to realize That maybe It's not such a bad thing Maybe the girl I've been trying to be all along Is not as put together as she seems Those who appear fine Are often the ones coming apart at the seams I may not be tough girl But I can still make believe.
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71
He barks in the distance Howling at the moon from jagged cliffs Anxiously waiting for her response, Dolefully widened eyes grasp for her With a warmth withstanding gelid air Her symphonious ocean drowns his cries She illuminates her inconsolable sea Her waves absorbing his mournful song She reaches for him from high heavens How terribly she yearns to be with him, just once more
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Jan 4, 2023
Jan 4, 2023 at 12:37 AM UTC
Longing
A birth that was meant too be It was strength surrounding the solid key Our story involves Zeus He was a God who sat High His eyes were on the Earth below being living creatures such as I Yet very powerful, mysterious and magical Hercules was Zeus Son A man having strength that will conquer the odds of many The mythical uncanny But Hercules has many tasks to perform Before anyone can be considered a champion, there are feats being the norm The test of one’s strength and withstanding endless struggles Well some of the citizens of Elis had doubts that Hercules even existed and felt it was on a legend story But far more than lightening bolts being the glory Hercules proved over and over, he was more than muscles and brawn, but had a heart of gold that would always last Hercules once lifted a statue that a mire mortal could never do weighing a ton He was his own man among Hercules illustrated he didn’t have a heavy heart, but strength in aiding the weak in lifting the burdens Yet Hercules would be faced with many challenges beyond measure One task would be defeating the Hydra, a two headed Monster How does one being so small and having strength, but the challenge against something so large? It will take tack, skill and a precision plan in order to defeat the Hydra into victory So Hercules picked up a club and anything else that was available to think of At first, it looked like Hercules was wearing down the Hydra, but the Hydra kept getting its second wind It wasn’t until then Hercules then applied intense strength on the Hydra, and the Monster finally crumbled down to the ground There wasn’t any longer of the Hydra’s sound Later it became task after task But Hercules continued to reign supreme Hercules became a champion, and his own king with the deliverer of strength and the defender of the weak.
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Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 1:10 PM UTC
THE PRIMAGE OF HERCULES
A birth that was meant too be It was strength surrounding the solid key Our story involves Zeus He was a God who sat High His eyes were on the Earth below being living creatures such as I Yet very powerful, mysterious and magical Hercules was Zeus Son A man having strength that will conquer the odds of many The mythical uncanny But Hercules has many tasks to perform Before anyone can be considered a champion, there are feats being the norm The test of one’s strength and withstanding endless struggles Well some of the citizens of Elis had doubts that Hercules even existed and felt it was on a legend story But far more than lightening bolts being the glory Hercules proved over and over, he was more than muscles and brawn, but had a heart of gold that would always last Hercules once lifted a statue that a mire mortal could never do weighing a ton He was his own man among Hercules illustrated he didn’t have a heavy heart, but strength in aiding the weak in lifting the burdens Yet Hercules would be faced with many challenges beyond measure One task would be defeating the Hydra, a two headed Monster How does one being so small and having strength, but the challenge against something so large? It will take tack, skill and a precision plan in order to defeat the Hydra into victory So Hercules picked up a club and anything else that was available to think of At first, it looked like Hercules was wearing down the Hydra, but the Hydra kept getting its second wind It wasn’t until then Hercules then applied intense strength on the Hydra, and the Monster finally crumbled down to the ground There wasn’t any longer of the Hydra’s sound Later it became task after task But Hercules continued to reign supreme Hercules became a champion, and his own king with the deliverer of strength and the defender of the weak.
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30
Matters of love, you’ve reaped into me Dynamics of knowledge, richness and profoundness Bringing age to my heart Knowing love and knowing brutal pain More real, more powerful, more beautiful Gifted consciousness filling missing part of potential Crumbling down our incompleteness Loving you more than consciousness of my thoughts will allow More than the passion of my intensity To be a model of human brilliance Manifests within the existence of my being I am a furnace You are the only flame Sparking this wild fire I am a candle, inanimate, You are the flicker that gives it life, light, soul I'm am intrinsic potential waiting to be actualized You are the catalyst of life breathing momentum into me Through your existence A flower, a beacon, weapon to my oppression and pain Appropriation of your love, impossibility in my life Immaculate potion to my sorrow Like a wild flower Withstanding thunder, hurricanes, and rain An atom from another dimension Your pulse travels through my heart and my soul As dangerous as ore You are the purest form Deep underneath farther than I can explore You are the most beautiful creation You are the end to my means Unconceivable new reality to my rebellion The revolution I await In the deepest part of my existence Knowing it might never be Key to my chains Chant to my muted voice You are the embodiment and the soul of my freedom Always escaping from me
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Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 11:14 AM UTC
A Heart’s Rebellion (Impossibility of Your Love)
Wicked nether-land. Nether world, white, askance. Capitulating mangroves, verdant trees spliced with hyperbole, onomatopoeia, and manilla envelopes; her world is stuffed with secrets, she listens to gorillas cracking mussels a kilometer away, near a rill. Never she thought. Nothing that could provide....providence. Mangled heliographs sprayed all over the everywhereworld. "Don't be S.A.F.E.," she whispered. A bouquet of gorse, cistus, and pimpernels squished in her small fingers. She climbed her way through the pedimented stairway, then collapsing on the porch. Legs spent, and spread out upon the desiccate grayed four by four planks of the portico. And as time elapses, the shuttering shake of the hemlock, which writhes through her skinny nimble dactyls, upwards straining the heart as its toxic bends appendages- crisp cerise lumens bend on the Titanium White walls, where only shadows bend time. The hour, still nine. Every adornment, furnished with red and its hues. Not purple, periwinkle, or any masked enhancement. These are the symbols that reticulate splines, that curve temperatures, perverse hemispheres and debunk worlds. Upped antes, verbs that terns flirt worth, birth words. Ooh. Aah. Camera. The forest wraps her in its verdant pasture, where at last the moribund tamarisks disperse. While at the plateau she is quiet and longing. Arms astride, dangling. Vaunt with highs and bliss- a kiss of withstanding pleasure serves her the cure for a lifetime of whining. This, yesterday where her body rattled through crooked vines. Square ships toasting her vocal melancholy in the sweet-waters of Time. So that all of her ripened limbs could grow, no more sheepishly than the magic she knew as a child. Stress free. First among the Earth-words, verbed-up and made jealous by pronouns that encompassed her joy-brimming hide. Closing down her voice and hugging her from behind.
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Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:44 AM UTC
Vesper: A Dream of Boxed Jellies
Wicked nether-land. Nether world, white, askance. Capitulating mangroves, verdant trees spliced with hyperbole, onomatopoeia, and manilla envelopes; her world is stuffed with secrets, she listens to gorillas cracking mussels a kilometer away, near a rill. Never she thought. Nothing that could provide....providence. Mangled heliographs sprayed all over the everywhereworld. "Don't be S.A.F.E.," she whispered. A bouquet of gorse, cistus, and pimpernels squished in her small fingers. She climbed her way through the pedimented stairway, then collapsing on the porch. Legs spent, and spread out upon the desiccate grayed four by four planks of the portico. And as time elapses, the shuttering shake of the hemlock, which writhes through her skinny nimble dactyls, upwards straining the heart as its toxic bends appendages- crisp cerise lumens bend on the Titanium White walls, where only shadows bend time. The hour, still nine. Every adornment, furnished with red and its hues. Not purple, periwinkle, or any masked enhancement. These are the symbols that reticulate splines, that curve temperatures, perverse hemispheres and debunk worlds. Upped antes, verbs that terns flirt worth, birth words. Ooh. Aah. Camera. The forest wraps her in its verdant pasture, where at last the moribund tamarisks disperse. While at the plateau she is quiet and longing. Arms astride, dangling. Vaunt with highs and bliss- a kiss of withstanding pleasure serves her the cure for a lifetime of whining. This, yesterday where her body rattled through crooked vines. Square ships toasting her vocal melancholy in the sweet-waters of Time. So that all of her ripened limbs could grow, no more sheepishly than the magic she knew as a child. Stress free. First among the Earth-words, verbed-up and made jealous by pronouns that encompassed her joy-brimming hide. Closing down her voice and hugging her from behind.
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Once I lost you Once I tossed you You never said a word I never could have heard Miracle you bore A refugee in the wreckage Sharpening your wings Withstanding dangerous oppression Young being, incomplete being Trying not to succumb To your own capitalist appropriation Eminent commodification Implicating your body and mind Who remained unscathed? Who wreaked the havoc? Just...so many wings could gain wind In this cage, lacking space System simply cannot withstand Cost of everyone's liberation Convenient systematic predilection Where some are never meant to fly Miracle you bore A refugee in the wreckage Sharpening your wings Withstanding dangerous oppression How can any wings soar When the trail of their shadows Hide systematic traps for our failure To ensure only a few course the skies Liberation is not meant to be Just yours or mine No commodity for private consumption Its usage, embrace, and appropriation Has universal implications A radical transformation that seeks to complete a human being Emblematic of an ideological reconceptualization A revolutionary new understanding of being human A re-authentication of our own liberation Purely predicated on that of others
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Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 10:22 PM UTC
Re-Authentication of Liberation
the sweltering muse ringing like crackling shimmering hue of pearls lost of beaded consciousness to look me in the eyes pearl-less and cast aside under the parent orb of silver moon, a violin careening, weeping like the thrill of dragon scales, magnificent and noble yet isolated in the rubble harder to find a hand about the fog and mildew crumbling pieces of tragic memories, reminiscence of all the hours I wait dwelling without haste among the lone tree tops see you on the dark night with owls swaying in the blue expanse again, once again it's going to be tough on me pearls withstanding beauty and clarity, scattered into the clutches of oblivion falling asleep in restless dreams the day they scattered bring back joy and happiness when I find the will to settle my shaking hands to refine the beaded necklace
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Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 6:17 PM UTC
That Pearl-Beaded Necklace
I reference this not as the flower just of nature but in this case for the fact it is our anniversary this is an Oleander of my heart yes the heart is a house all of my feelings and emotions are housed there the Flower I choose to write about is my sister my wife’s sister Liz it’s kind of appropriate since she was the Only one in our wedding party as we were married before a judge I guess she was a witness a witness to The crime as it were to describe her I can use Roy Orbison’s song pretty woman a blonde cutie with Southern roots in Tennessee now she is a near Chicago northerner take southern nights and northern Bright lights infuse them with grace and charm you have begun to see the Oleander that lies beyond my Door yard along my walk and borders the yard of my heart the glistening in the spring rain if you get real Still you can hear tiny sounds of laughter among the joy filled faces the scented bloom fills my living Room where ever I am eye catching satisfying delightful spring and summer what a wonder the spilling Forth of fruitful life she matches the rose in pose an attitude of significance tinged with just enough Brashness to hold your attention until you become beholden to the inner life that shows character Wisdom authority a driven wind that lays down in the most beautiful fashion only to arise and make the Trees sing the glass to shake in the most enjoyable way all in unison they dance the eye stormed by this Profusion of elegance and color truly a best friend to the wayward wind carried near and far secrets rest Within the heart that the Oleander knows and claims in darkness unflappable a sweet ghostliness an Arbor found sweetly remembered but never forgotten unspoiled withstanding the day’s heat showing Resilience a buoyancy of sprit uncommon the thrill that runs with deep rootedness when the sharp wind Does blow she through power of will brings calm a flourish of maturity so lovely that is outstanding in all these gifts she provides the greatest is she calls me friend thanks sis
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Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 6:53 PM UTC
Perennial Oleander
I reference this not as the flower just of nature but in this case for the fact it is our anniversary this is an Oleander of my heart yes the heart is a house all of my feelings and emotions are housed there the Flower I choose to write about is my sister my wife’s sister Liz it’s kind of appropriate since she was the Only one in our wedding party as we were married before a judge I guess she was a witness a witness to The crime as it were to describe her I can use Roy Orbison’s song pretty woman a blonde cutie with Southern roots in Tennessee now she is a near Chicago northerner take southern nights and northern Bright lights infuse them with grace and charm you have begun to see the Oleander that lies beyond my Door yard along my walk and borders the yard of my heart the glistening in the spring rain if you get real Still you can hear tiny sounds of laughter among the joy filled faces the scented bloom fills my living Room where ever I am eye catching satisfying delightful spring and summer what a wonder the spilling Forth of fruitful life she matches the rose in pose an attitude of significance tinged with just enough Brashness to hold your attention until you become beholden to the inner life that shows character Wisdom authority a driven wind that lays down in the most beautiful fashion only to arise and make the Trees sing the glass to shake in the most enjoyable way all in unison they dance the eye stormed by this Profusion of elegance and color truly a best friend to the wayward wind carried near and far secrets rest Within the heart that the Oleander knows and claims in darkness unflappable a sweet ghostliness an Arbor found sweetly remembered but never forgotten unspoiled withstanding the day’s heat showing Resilience a buoyancy of sprit uncommon the thrill that runs with deep rootedness when the sharp wind Does blow she through power of will brings calm a flourish of maturity so lovely that is outstanding in all these gifts she provides the greatest is she calls me friend thanks sis
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I can't remember If I told you I loved you The first time we had *** But knowing me, I probably did My fingernails digging into your back Your face in my neck I most likely whispered it into your ear Said it softly but loud enough for you to hear I said I love you Like it could make you stay Like it meant mutuality Thinking that maybe the lack of space between us Could hypnotize you into believing That you loved me too A part of me certain that the air particles Could somehow sew us together And that the inevitable reality Lingering in the background Could never detach us Convinced myself That we were an atom in pure form Incapable of being split apart when we were this close together *** Is not synonymous with feeling I knew this to begin with Love and lust Like oil and water Can be separated with ease Television and movies Trained me in the art of one night stands But I never intended to have you for one night I didn't wanted you for a week I wanted you for the amount of time Where we forget how long it's been Memorizing every single one our limbs Ribcage Arm Hands Skin Then ******* the demons out of each other To rectify our sins Making love until we have no recollection Of who we were before we learned each other's bodies We were nobody Before the conquer of this foreign territory I wanted to surrender From the moment we touched But making love is so similar to make believe That it gets hard To tell the difference sometimes When I slept next to you on your couch My back pressing into the ridged corners of the sharpness It was not out of convenience It was out of purpose Believing that withstanding the ache Would show you how much I cared Forgetting that your heart Belonged to someone with a different name In different city Yet every night you still called my body home Coming back to it repeatedly Like a drunken wanderer I thought if you did enough times You would never want to leave I convinced myself That letting you **** me Was one step closer To getting you to stay *** Is not synonymous with permanence We should have never done it to begin with Knowing quite well you were here With the intention of temporary I talked myself into your skin Thought if I wrapped myself in it Deeply enough You would do the same To me My body Was nothing more than a grave yard For you to hide your secrets in No treasure, No gold I buried my love for you Into the curve Of your collarbone I bet it would still be there If you looked for it But I know You wont.
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Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 1:35 AM UTC
Oil and Water
I can't remember If I told you I loved you The first time we had *** But knowing me, I probably did My fingernails digging into your back Your face in my neck I most likely whispered it into your ear Said it softly but loud enough for you to hear I said I love you Like it could make you stay Like it meant mutuality Thinking that maybe the lack of space between us Could hypnotize you into believing That you loved me too A part of me certain that the air particles Could somehow sew us together And that the inevitable reality Lingering in the background Could never detach us Convinced myself That we were an atom in pure form Incapable of being split apart when we were this close together *** Is not synonymous with feeling I knew this to begin with Love and lust Like oil and water Can be separated with ease Television and movies Trained me in the art of one night stands But I never intended to have you for one night I didn't wanted you for a week I wanted you for the amount of time Where we forget how long it's been Memorizing every single one our limbs Ribcage Arm Hands Skin Then ******* the demons out of each other To rectify our sins Making love until we have no recollection Of who we were before we learned each other's bodies We were nobody Before the conquer of this foreign territory I wanted to surrender From the moment we touched But making love is so similar to make believe That it gets hard To tell the difference sometimes When I slept next to you on your couch My back pressing into the ridged corners of the sharpness It was not out of convenience It was out of purpose Believing that withstanding the ache Would show you how much I cared Forgetting that your heart Belonged to someone with a different name In different city Yet every night you still called my body home Coming back to it repeatedly Like a drunken wanderer I thought if you did enough times You would never want to leave I convinced myself That letting you **** me Was one step closer To getting you to stay *** Is not synonymous with permanence We should have never done it to begin with Knowing quite well you were here With the intention of temporary I talked myself into your skin Thought if I wrapped myself in it Deeply enough You would do the same To me My body Was nothing more than a grave yard For you to hide your secrets in No treasure, No gold I buried my love for you Into the curve Of your collarbone I bet it would still be there If you looked for it But I know You wont.
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...You, dearest vagary, aplomb--were brought to bear. Vicissitude of memory which is the dispersion of identity. Of a time, and of a place--you, a mellifluous bronze dusk poured upon a meadow, a solitary immersion, a moment that harnesses the whole of the earth, as you are...dearest vagary. You were afforded as by the citizenry of the air, lent by an intercontinental wind. An undying eloquence featured for all time--the swaying bud blown to bloom. You...the beautification of possibility, its matrices never left in want. As in withstanding place the round is made, and remade about you, the whole of the earth. Thus, you've no confounding words... have you? Thus, this sidelong expenditure that you may-- shall breach the earth you shall.
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Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 11:09 AM UTC
Dearest Vagary
This poem is going to be a lie He tells himself Writhing in tantalizing filaments The bright asphyxiation drawing him closer and closer To this An ideal Of the perfect truth Told out in unwritten song Painfully typed words A clever shower of meteors Belittling the dangerous craters on the surface The danger of tripping and dying Not withstanding what we know to be A falicy My multilingual interpretation of her feelings Old testimonies heard in the court Of the already guilty This poem is a complete distortion of facts My trivial response to empowered individuals Standing on my Adam's Apple And beating on my lungs like drums Rhythm meaning honor And the attention of the onlookers meaning The inviting glow Of the fireplace. She sat down next to That night That town That unfamiliar castigating of a child not belonging to You Or her Or the abyss "Unbelonging" "Inbelonging" Not. Yours. The wordsmith falters Checking his math Calculation, equation, kiss on the cheek For luck for death For the noose to slip, lovingly And gently to the ground as the trap door swings open A great, open toothed smile Laughing at silence BARBARIC to interrupt such delicacy Straining to look into my eyes She whispers low I want to find a home... And i tell her, with my heaviest conviction "No home is." Which could mean anything. This poem is a verisimilitude A lie about a truth Which, again... Could mean anything...
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Jan 9, 2012
Jan 9, 2012 at 12:33 PM UTC
Verisimilitude
#* Under the blue cloudless sky White doves and pigeons Flap wings and fly Heritage domes, rustic brown Stand clear of dust and sand Glorious, withstanding every storm Motor boats painted blue and green Sharp the curvature, folded hands Bow to the rising waters in the sea Stillness of the silence Clearly felt in the sound of the flapping wings Broken leg, the bird could fly once*#
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Sep 25, 2021
Sep 25, 2021 at 7:59 AM UTC
Wings & Dreams
The sky transformed in a matter of seconds From a bright powder blue To a sickly gray that reminded me of my darkest days. The teardrops from the sky came trickling down bit by bit Slowly picking up speed As I could hear the pitter patter on the window sills. I walked over to my window to watch the show. To watch the raindrops maneuver its way past the nooks and crannies of the trees and soak up into the ground. I noticed something odd. Right outside my window, lied a spider web. A huge one, about two feet in diameter And in the center, sat a beautiful maroon colored spider, curled into a ball to protect itself from the penetrating water droplets. The web had to be one of the most beautiful creations I'd ever seen. How could something so minuscule Create such a wonderful piece of art all on its own? But as I was looking at this web I was watching something devastating. All of the spider's hard work Was being battered by the rain. The web was shaking violently back and forth. Surprisingly, it was remaining mostly intact. Unlike the fragile spider, Clinging onto the strings of its creation for dear life. The rain continued beating down As I stood there admiring the web's strength. The web was withstanding everything the storm threw it's way. But its soul, the creator, didn't seem strong enough to. The storm faded away. The web, a little beaten down, managed to stay strong enough to survive. The spider, however, did not. This reminds me of myself, you know. Beaten down with words, mockeries Beaten down by my past My memories I keep my outer shell perfectly intact So that no one knows what is really going on inside me. When in reality, my soul is dying. My depths are shallowing, just like the spider. I am not the only one like this. I was oblivious to this fact Until I watched this spider Take his last breath before drowning. Why couldn't the spider be as strong as its outer shell? Why can't I be as strong as I make myself out to be? Maybe I'll find out one day.
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Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
Drowning in Our Own Weaknesses
The sky transformed in a matter of seconds From a bright powder blue To a sickly gray that reminded me of my darkest days. The teardrops from the sky came trickling down bit by bit Slowly picking up speed As I could hear the pitter patter on the window sills. I walked over to my window to watch the show. To watch the raindrops maneuver its way past the nooks and crannies of the trees and soak up into the ground. I noticed something odd. Right outside my window, lied a spider web. A huge one, about two feet in diameter And in the center, sat a beautiful maroon colored spider, curled into a ball to protect itself from the penetrating water droplets. The web had to be one of the most beautiful creations I'd ever seen. How could something so minuscule Create such a wonderful piece of art all on its own? But as I was looking at this web I was watching something devastating. All of the spider's hard work Was being battered by the rain. The web was shaking violently back and forth. Surprisingly, it was remaining mostly intact. Unlike the fragile spider, Clinging onto the strings of its creation for dear life. The rain continued beating down As I stood there admiring the web's strength. The web was withstanding everything the storm threw it's way. But its soul, the creator, didn't seem strong enough to. The storm faded away. The web, a little beaten down, managed to stay strong enough to survive. The spider, however, did not. This reminds me of myself, you know. Beaten down with words, mockeries Beaten down by my past My memories I keep my outer shell perfectly intact So that no one knows what is really going on inside me. When in reality, my soul is dying. My depths are shallowing, just like the spider. I am not the only one like this. I was oblivious to this fact Until I watched this spider Take his last breath before drowning. Why couldn't the spider be as strong as its outer shell? Why can't I be as strong as I make myself out to be? Maybe I'll find out one day.
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