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Why worry when you can pray.
Worrying
About it  won't help you
But stress you.
Don't hold on to the worry.
Keep* calm and carry on
You're wonder what
You were *
fussing about.
Worrying won't. Add a single day to your live.
It will shorten. It ..
Leo Dubson May 2018
I worry, but not just that, I am a warrior... to worry is my full-time job, and it requires a 24 hour work day, every day, I worry when I wake up, as I work, when I eat, and while I dream.

you don't need much in order to become a warrior, you don't need a horrible life, you don't need to be starving in a third world country, you don't need to be on the brink of death, no... anything short of perfect is good enough... in fact, its probably better if your life isn't too hard because otherwise, you might be too focused on actually fixing problems in order to worry about them.

worrying is easy, literally, any problem, even an almost imaginary one, will suffice, just pick something, ANYTHING, and think of the countless ways in which it could go wrong, because it can, it probably won't... but it can.

it's not about logic, you can understand perfectly well that you are doing all you can to fix it and that worrying won't help and that it will probably be alright... you can understand perfectly well that in a week you will probably forget about it, just like the countless other things you have worried about in the past, but it won't help.

I am addicted to worrying... its a drug just like any other, in that you get mentally and physically addicted to it, and in that, once you get a taste, it's VERY easy to become addicted... like I already stated, anything short of perfect will suffice, just think of any problem: a fight with a friend, status, weight, your career, taxes, life, death, running out of your favorite brand of ice cream, or even the fact that you are worrying itself, all are perfectly good reasons to worry, ANYTHING is.

I am a warrior, and I'm tired of fighting myself.
I cannot,
Absolutely cannot,
Add a single moment to my life by worrying!

In fact...if I were to worry my mind to the point of stress I could perhaps subtract myself.

I could,
Absolutely could,
Subtract myself from this life by worrying!

Therefore, I musn't worry my mind.
Even if in the next moment I were subtracted life it shan't be from worrying.

Tis' better to go quietly than with a whimper.
This resulted from reading and meditating upon Matthew 6:24-34.
I’m running out of time
And I’m feeling kind of worried.
Then I’m like,
“Hey me, stop worrying!”
And somehow
I worry
That I’m worrying,
Because I know that worrying won’t help me.
But I’m worrying,
And that is bad,
Because I have always been told
To stop worrying.
Oh, but now I can’t stop worrying
Because you told me to stop worrying
And now I can’t stop worrying
About the fact I am worrying.
Sarah Kersey Aug 2015
Over the course of my unavoidably finite life I have always looked for the best in people
I believe that every human being has a soul
I believe that deep down within all of us
Beneath our silver hearts and our metal lungs lie good intentions
We stray from these as time passes
Time, an irrelevant concept at the most
Has made us all fools
We agonize over the number of minutes we are wasting as our lives drag on
Throwing away seconds like used tissues
Throwing away people like used tissues
Throwing away our lives like used tissues

We wreck everything around us
Concern is a forgotten custom
We would do anything to forget
We are all very quick to judge

We treat everything as disposable and recklessly dive into the unknown for the chance of excitement
But as an unavoidable result,
We wreck everything around us
There are men walking the streets with shoes tied to their backs whistling a tune about a man ******* ******* and getting money
This man doesn’t have a dime to his name and the last time he made love to a woman she screamed in disgust when she saw the disease he picked up from another man when he was 17 and ******
There are women waiting in the shadows of the alleys, waiting for their prey to come along and take them for a spin just for a Benjamin Franklin or two
This woman was taught that *** was a way to survive and that Benjamin Franklin could save anything, since that was all her dad sent her in the mail, as if that was an okay way to make up for leaving
There are teenage boys staring down at green leaves crumbled into nothing and white candied sugar that doesn’t taste so sweet
This Harvard bound boy just threw it all away because the pressure became just a bit too much and the only escape that was left was in the form of artificial highs that will destroy his brain until he’s as useless as a used tissue
There are teenage girls who are downing a bottle of coconut *** and getting on the road to go home so they can take their AP exam the following morning
This broken hearted girl who was just trying to forget her ex by swallowing the taste of Hawaii just killed another man in a head on collision
We wreck our lives for the pure possibility of enjoyment
We are all just looking for ways to forget and make up for all these lost moments that don’t even exist
A moment is never truly lost because it ceases to exists
Yet we forget this all in the thrill of it

Time is just a sugar coated limit on our lives that we fret over in order to worry about something
But maybe what we should be worrying about is the boy snorting coke in the bathroom
Not only should we be worried about his inhalation of the fast white lady,
But we should also be concerned over the circumstances surrounding him
He’s got scars on his wrists that he’s gained from war
Not Vietnam or Iraq but the war in his mind
But maybe we should be worrying about the girl selling herself on the street
She’s got eyes like fire but there’s burn marks slashed across her back from her “mother” shoving her onto the hot burning stove when her daddy left as a way to get out her anger
But maybe we should be worrying about the man with the shoes on his back
The disease that girl avoided will **** him in a matter of months and he hasn’t spoken to his mother in 10 years
She’s about to lose her only son to the ground because of some stupid party and some washed up drunk boy just looking for a good time without any concerns or protection
Or maybe we should worry about the teenage girl whose sitting in the jail cell drunk off her *** and being charged with vehicle manslaughter
Her ex is now lying under a white sheet, dead as can be, all because she was stupid enough to try to get amnesia from a bottle of forbidden poison

We would do anything to forget
We **** up our lives for the pure chance of amnesia
We all just want our innocence back
That teenage girl would love to forget how she lost her virginity to a boy who didn’t love her
But now she’s wearing black at a funeral staring at the face of a man she truly did love with her hands trapped in handcuffs behind her back
The man with the shoes would love to forget how he was once a straight-A student destined to be the next Steve Jobs
But all because of some frivolous party and the sleeping he did in his health class freshman year, he’s given up on the possibility of love and companionship and he’ll be rotting in the ground next to his father by the age of 34
The teenage boy would love to forget what it’s like to live with a beast in your mind with a red name tag stamped with the title ‘depression’
But instead he’s slashing his wrists in the bathroom as his blood splatters across the remaining ******* that lines the basin of the sink
The woman would love to forget the story of her accidental conception
But instead she hides in the alleys looking like a replica of her dad and just a little too much like the woman at the post office he got a bit too friendly with
We drown ourselves in the possibilities of falling into this idealistic dream world laced with melatonin and codeine as our brain collapses in on itself and our memories float away
This is the dream
Yet we cannot grasp it

We are all very quick to judge
We are all self-absorbed beings who form opinions on these four humans who are built of the same skin and bones as us
Yet we don’t take a second to look just a little bit deeper
The woman you considered a ******* whose been abused and beaten by a mother that’s not even her own?
She has a college degree and won three spelling bees when she was 12 years old
She can spell the word promiscuous faster than you can breathe out
She’s got flower crowns wilting in her closet that contain rotting lilies from her wedding bouquet
Her husband left her just like her dad did
The teenage boy, who you considered an emo, suicidal, washed up ******* addict?
He volunteers at the hospital and tries to help other kids suffering from the same disease that plagues his mind, even though he can’t help himself
He listens to only country music and sometimes when he picks his sister up from ballet recitals, they sing it together, extra loud with all the windows down
The man you judged as a homeless, lonely, STD-ridden loser?
He’s got thousands and thousands of dollars he pays to a nurse each week to take care of the mother he hasn’t spoken to in 10 years
He grew up on nothing, with only shoes on his back, and made himself into something
He made himself into a millionaire over a silly idea that resembled Facebook
And now he’s resorted back to his childhood ways in order to keep a woman healthy that kicked him out of the house when she found out he was bisexual
The girl who you considered some ******, blonde, drunk idiot who just killed her ex by pure accident?
She’s a natural brunette and she only dyed her hair because her ex told her it would make her pretty
Her self-esteem is so low it lies in the core of the earth, burning in hell, where she believes she’s going to end up because she lost her virginity before marriage
She’s got a purity ring resting in the threads of her carpet and a ****** wrapper in the trash laced with regret
She fell in love with somebody who treated her like she thought of herself, and she let him take the only part of her she had pride in because she believed he loved her

But now the woman with the flower crowns hiding in the alley has become a victim of **** because of some ******* who wasn’t carrying a Benjamin Franklin or a ******
But now the boy with a love for Luke Bryan is lying on the bathroom floor of some high school party in a pool of his own blood, slipping into oblivion
But now the man supporting his mother is in the hospital because of a disease in his genitals
But now the teenage girl is in prison for life

These are all just stories of imaginary people
Yet it all feels deathly real
Take us back to our youth
Take us to a land of the forgotten
pookie Nov 2013
I worry so much about you,
About how you feel,
What you feel,
Wether it's pain sadness or happiness,
I worry all the time,
I worry or that fact that I will not always be here for you,
That one day you'll need me a I won't be able to come,
I worry that no matter how hard I try,
You will take the most painful route,
Of death pain and sorrow,
I worry all the time ,
I worry over little things and bigs,
But my worrying is justified because I care,
And I care with all my body mind heart and soul,
About you,
So I worry all the time.
Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
I saw a path and ran ahead
I nearly lost my way
Your mercy caught me by the arm
To Your side You bid me stay

I put my hope in my own plans
Which soon around me fell
You stopped me short upon that road
And said, "Rest and all will be well."

I'd surrendered all, but to my foe
Enticed into the briars
You turned his evil schemes instead
Into refining fires

I couldn't see my helplessness
Until my legs were broken
Till Shepherd's hands caressed my wounds
And healing words were spoken

You picked me up and carried me
And made me feel Your favorite
You held my head against Your chest
Until I grew to savor it

You tended me with gentlest touch
Then soothed all thought of fears
You sang forgiveness over me
And washed away my tears

There is no one like You, Lord
On whom I can rely
In loss, in danger or attack
You hear this poor sheep's cry

It's You Who keeps me from real harm
Who watches my coming and going
You shield me with Your strong right hand
From darts the enemy keeps throwing

You said to all who trust in You
You would give perfect peace
Enough for mind and heart to rest
To let all worrying cease

So, Lord, I trust You with my life
Your Shepherd's heart is pure
Your purpose for me's guarded well
And Your deliverance is sure

Please teach this sheep, Lord, how to wait
And strengthen me to stand
To put my hope in Your desires
And to love Your sovereign plan

You lead me into fields so green
Where streams of life are flowing
Where healing winds blow oft' and strong
And choicest fruits are growing

You set me free to hear Your voice
To follow at Your call
And even through the dark, cold nights
I'll know You've arranged it all

Yes, storms will come with battering rains
With hail and gusts and thunder
But these are meant to beckon me
To Your wings to pull me under

For it's in the darkness of the storm
My grip's most apt to tighten
And when my heart beats next to Yours
All earthly burdens lighten
Alyssa Underwood May 2017
I saw a path and ran ahead
I nearly lost my way
Your mercy caught me by the arm
To Your side You bid me stay

I put my hope in my own plans
Which soon around me fell
You stopped me short upon that road
And said, "Rest and all will be well."

I'd surrendered all, but to my foe
Enticed into the briars
You turned his evil schemes instead
Into refining fires

I couldn't see my helplessness
Until my legs were broken
Till Shepherd's hands caressed my wounds
And healing words were spoken

You picked me up and carried me
And made me feel Your favorite
You held my head against Your chest
Until I grew to savor it

You tended me with gentlest touch
Then soothed all thought of fears
You sang forgiveness over me
And washed away my tears

There is no one like You, Lord
On whom I can rely
In loss, in danger or attack
You hear this poor sheep's cry

It's You Who keeps me from real harm
Who watches my coming and going
You shield me with Your strong right hand
From darts the enemy keeps throwing

You said to all who trust in You
You would give perfect peace
Enough for mind and heart to rest
To let all worrying cease

So, Lord, I trust You with my life
Your Shepherd's heart is pure
Your purpose for me's guarded well
And Your deliverance is sure

Please teach this sheep, Lord, how to wait
And strengthen me to stand
To put my hope in Your desires
And to love Your sovereign plan

You lead me into fields so green
Where streams of life are flowing
Where healing winds blow oft' and strong
And choicest fruits are growing

You set me free to hear Your voice
To follow at Your call
And even through the dark, cold nights
I'll know You've arranged it all

Yes, storms will come with battering rains
With hail and gusts and thunder
But these are meant to beckon me
To Your wings to pull me under

For it's in the darkness of the storm
My grip's most apt to tighten
And when my heart beats next to Yours
All earthly burdens lighten
~~~
Alyssa Underwood Jul 2017
As the redeemed of Jesus Christ, if we are ever to find true refreshment in our desert wanderings, it will be as we choose to dwell in God’s presence and in the newness of His daily mercies through faith. Our trials tend to force us, like pushy but invaluable friends, to learn hands-on what it is to live in the grace of the moment.

We live in the grace of the moment by continually recognizing both the immense need and the immense blessing of each moment (by developing a conscious and habitual attitude that says, “I am so desperately needy AND I am so abundantly blessed.”) and by relying on the Holy Spirit to teach us exactly how to reconcile the two. This happens as we first learn to live in the reality of the eternal, for it's an ever-present awareness of eternity that liberates us to receive every present moment with thankfulness and live it to the fullest, without setting up false expectations for it or worrying about the next.

When we are convinced that our life is hidden with Christ and He alone is the Prize, that this world is not our home and we are simply on assignment here, and that our pain and failures are only temporary but, with His redemption, the beauty and wisdom to be gained from them are eternal, we are set free from living in the regret of yesterday or in the fear of tomorrow. We can instead live in the blessing of the right now which fully meets the need of the right now because both need and blessing are gifts from the Father to get us ready for eternity and to meet our Bridegroom face to face. We have need of nothing but Him and His grace, and His fullness dwells in us.

The life lived in the grace of the moment is the life absolutely surrendered to the reality of God’s wisdom, God’s character and God’s sovereignty over it, for in entrusting ourselves to those, we acknowledge that He has a set and planned purpose for our lives, that it is good, and that He is powerful enough to carry it to completion. His wisdom assures us that He has always had in mind, down to the smallest details, exactly what He is doing with us; His character, that His heart is ever faithful toward us; and His sovereignty, that His directing arm cannot be shaken or thwarted. They reveal to us explicitly that He loves us with all of His mind and heart and strength, and in that knowledge we find perfect rest. As beloved children we know that we will be taken care of without having to know how it will happen or what it will look like.

In our helplessness we can simply look up to Him, reach out for Him and cry to Him in humility and thanksgiving, for our God cannot resist eyes and arms and hearts doing that. He always picks up and holds close to Himself those who long for Him. We may think that what we most desire are answers and perfectly successful plans and reasonable control over our lives, but what our souls crave is comfort and intimacy and love, and we can have those the instant we fully surrender to His embrace. He may sometimes hide His face from our “Why?”s but never from our “Hold me!” cries.

If we mistakenly suppose this life to be about this life, we will miss the present grace for fretting over and fighting for all the blessings we don’t have or fearing that those we do will be lost, until we find that they have become an unbearable millstone around our necks. If we pin our hope on anything in this temporary world it will be no stronger than that—a mere pin, easily pulled out and easily broken when life weighs too heavily upon it.

Enduring hope can only be based on God’s absolute promises given to us in His Word, not on our own expectations or wishes or impressions of how things ought to be. Enduring hope lets go of everything that can be lost to take hold of everything that cannot, and in doing so is actually able to squeeze the sweetest nectar out of those released and perishable blessings so that even their losses, though painful, do not leave a bitter aftertaste. For it’s often in the loss of a thing that its worth to us becomes most precious, and by letting it go with grace we can best savor its purest delights.

Realizing that the pain runs so deep only because the beauty ran so deep and that without it having once touched us we wouldn’t now know the emptiness of its loss, our grief will eventually turn to thankfulness that it ever touched us at all, and we will be left awed by the mystery of its haunting. There's a peculiar kind of beauty that can only be experienced with the innate knowledge that the moment is fleeting, and the most intense beauty can only be seen in the presence of both light and shadows.

The ability to enjoy our tangible blessings is surely heightened by the conviction that they are not ours to possess, by the acceptance that their loss is inevitable, and by the understanding that they were never meant to satisfy. For the enjoyment, then, will be absent the tainting dread, the taking for granted, and the twisted expectations which so easily and often mar our earthly pleasures. We will relish what we’ve been given today but recognize it may very well be gone tomorrow, and even in that uncertainty we will find a contented peace, for in every loss there lurks a hidden blessing, and all that really matters can never be lost to us. It is just as important to be a good steward of our losses as it is of our more obvious blessings, for the beauty that comes from nobly and graciously accepting loss far exceeds any tangible beauty that can be taken.

Knowing that we belong to another time and place and that this one is only meant to lead us there, like the charming towns one passes through on the way to a better destination, we will take in the sights with wonder and delight but keep traveling on toward our true home. For these sights, though tantalizing, are like mere slivers of light from a crack under the door compared to the glory to be found in God’s Presence. But when received as personal gifts of His grace, they become to us a stage precisely and delicately set by a Lover to attract the attention of His beloved, to show off His greatness and show forth His beauty to win her heart, and our hearts indeed are won.

To live in the grace of the moment is to keep looking to Jesus—to Jesus’ feet to lay our burdens down, to Jesus’ arms to be held securely, to Jesus’ hands to receive all we need, and to Jesus’ face to know our only sure hope and hearts’ true desire.


*Lord Jesus, merciful and all-sufficient One, in every need, small or great, tangible or intangible, give me the discernment to discover Your extravagant gifts of grace, the wisdom to receive them, the eagerness to open them and the passion to cherish them well. Give me eyes to see and a heart to fully enjoy with gratitude each blessing You have prepared for me today, for this very moment, and may I thrill to Your every advance of love.
~~~

"Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with Him in glory."
~ Colossians 3:1-4

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. For He chose us in Him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in His sight. In love He predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with His pleasure and will— to the praise of His glorious grace, which He has freely given us in the One He loves. In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that He lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding..."
~ Ephesians 1:3-8

"His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of Him who called us by his own glory and goodness."
~ 2 Peter 1:3

"So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in Him, rooted and built up in Him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness."
~ Colossians 2:6-7

"Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,
    for His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
    great is Your faithfulness.
I say to myself, 'The LORD is my portion;
    therefore I will wait for Him.'
The LORD is good to those whose hope is in Him,
    to the one who seeks Him;
it is good to wait quietly
    for the salvation of the LORD."
~ Lamentations 3:22-26

"Find rest, O my soul, in God alone;
    my hope comes from Him."
~ Psalm 62:5

"But He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong."
~ 2 Corinthians 12:9-10

"I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us."
~ Romans 8:18

"Therefore, holy brothers and sisters, who share in the heavenly calling, fix your thoughts on Jesus, the apostle and high priest whom we confess."
~ Hebrews 3:1
Jaz Dec 2013
I don't see how
Worrying can make you
Tired.

But it does.

It makes me exhausted, it makes me an insomniac,
It makes me think crazy, it makes me worry more than I already was.
It makes me think every one has something happening to them
Right now
At this very moment.

Something is
Wrong.

But I'm tired. I really am.
I need my sleep.
But my mind is fighting,
Telling me over and over and over again that
I need to check one last time
Whether someone is okay
Whether someone is alive
Whether someone is someone is...

**** it, there's the mental block.
It happens.
Usually.
I think.
I don't know.

But what I do know is that
It makes me unusual,
It makes me sick,
It makes me not normal.

It makes people stare,
It makes people scared,
It makes people laugh and laugh and laugh
While they call me names and mock me.

They tell me I'm crazy,
Mentally *******, a
"Psychopathic pill popper".

I know that I am.
And I'm trying to stop.
But it's hard.

And I'm tired.
Hannah Fry Jul 2014
Emptiness
A void that my entire self is lost in

Waking up in the middle of night
Cold sweats
Screaming
Pain

Worrying
All I can do is worry

The void in my mind stretches faster and larger every day
There's a gap
What do I fill it with?

More emptiness.
More searching.
No finish.
No ending.
No beginning.
Tom Spencer Jul 2015
Summer morning -
pink jets of clouds
splash out
from the golden well of the east
falling just short
of an ebbing moon.

Streams of swallows
flutter and glide
over the garden -
they are all flying
in the same direction
as if erupting

from the sun’s waking pulse.
Just for a moment
one of the birds hangs
perfectly still -
like the top-most drop of water
from a fountain before it turns

to face the glittering pool.
Beneath them all
the hummingbird
makes her rounds
and a dove scratches the earth
below the feeder

keeping an wary eye
on the scribbling intruder.
So many summer mornings -
too many summer mornings
I have wasted
worrying about the world

and my place in it –
absent from my own body
and breath
the cage of my ribs
rising, falling, and pausing
without me. Meanwhile,

another swallow
stills her wings.
Buoyed by an unseen breeze
she is both feathered sail
and cresting wave as she slices
over my shoulder bearing west.


Tom Spencer © 2015
Abigail Marie Apr 2014
You cause
a break inside my organs
Pointing out my flaws
our differences.
You are at peace.
I sit jittering, worrying
what everyone will think
of when I didn’t care
you made me laugh at
everything
Changes.  You’re not right for me
Nor I for you, but I can’t help
Thinking
What if?  Then I remember
you’re not what nor
Everything I want.

You are an intellectual snob you
have a depth about you
I would love to delve in,
a psychological study
that even the best critics would praise,
but I don’t want anyone else to have been there
or ever go there.
I cannot hold on to you
tear me away while
You’re haphazardly gluing us together
We’re a kindergarten art project
messy, trying to see
Beauty within the confusion,
unfinished    

You asked me
Where am I most at peace
4 years old.      
I could be anything
No fears
I hadn’t been ripped apart.
I was the girl that said everything,
until I felt the need to screen my thoughts,
like the filter you use to make your coffee
each morning.  I wish that’s where I was,
having you tell me
that you like your women like your coffee
Dark and bitter.

I can look past your chauvinistic ways,
not giving a **** about anyone.
You’re not really closed minded
You just act like it,
which annoys the hell out of me
Sometimes.  I wish life was simple.    
But then
I would never know your complexities nor
Feel the things you help me feel,
like hate for train whistles
or the burn of gin hitting my throat.
Music      
you introduce me to
offstage trumpets, bad movies.  Your politics,
your brown eyes      
and how you can hear frequencies
that most everyone else can’t.  I worry
that you hear
the fear in my voice and heartbreak
With every word I speak.

When were you going to tell me?
Or was that your plan all along?
To throw me out
like yesterday’s coffee grounds
or cut up scraps
Used and unwanted.
I wish I could tell you
to tell her you don’t want her
but me instead,
you don’t, I don’t want you to.
I want holding hands, laughter
comfort, personality, humor, intellect.
You want that plus things
I can’t give
But you always take.

You are your coffee
disgusting, caffeinated,
addicting
the only patch that helps is
comforting words you never spoke.
We had many conversations
of your desires, lusts, mistakes,
but I was burned,
by lies, distrust.
You left, like always,
a harsh, acidic aftertaste
on my tongue.
Lucky Queue Jan 2013
Before I had you, I never worried about losing you
Only about never getting you
Now that I have you I mostly worry about loving you
Because if we do leave each other
The reason will be a good one
We love each other too much for it to be otherwise
brandon nagley Oct 2015
Distant lover's
Both overworrying that the other lover wilt leaveth;
That's me and mine Jane, that's amour', tis were soulmates.




©Brandon nagley
©Earl Jane nagley dedication- Filipino rose
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Brett W Feb 2014
I worry so much about you
Just being simple and clear
I know very little and few
Without you anymore here
I fear all the negative outcomes
I fear the pain you go through
I fear you unhappy and alone
Although none of that fear is new
You may wonder why I still fear
We aren't together, yes I sure know
I do still think this feeling is queer
But there's nowhere for my fear to go
When I try to talk to you, it's to help
But when I do, it seems you no longer care
I know other worries will soon develop
But giving up on you now is not really fair
If you wish to still talk, I am always here
For you are my Polish Buddy, my dear
Big Virge Jan 2015
The ... " GREAT DEBATE " ...
Would Seem To Surround This Thing Called Race ... ?
  
It Makes Some FROWN And Open Their Mouths ...  
About The Ways This Debate Is ... Swept AWAY ..............  
    
By ... " Heads of State " ...  
And Those Who Claim That .......................................  
    
"Racism displays are minimal today !  
So blacks who have a chip, should stop running their lips !"
    
Well Like The Young Orators ...  
Shown In ... " The Great Debators " ...  
    
My View Is Simply This ...  
    
Would They Rather Blacks Shoot ... Clips ... !?!  
Than Use Their Minds To .... " THINK " ...  ???  
    
A Question When Expressed ....  
That SHOULDN'T Be Answered ... YES ... !!!!!  
    
It's CLEAR The Great Debate Will ALWAYS Be This Way ...  
Because A Black Whose Brain ...
Is Used To EDUCATE And ELEVATE Our Strays ...  
  
Is One Who Will Be Labelled As A Person Telling Fables ...  
Whose Thought Waves Are ... UNSTABLE ... !!!!!
    
" A TERRORIST !!! "  
" A COMMUNIST !!! "  
AN UPSTART WHO ...  
SHOULD BE REMOVED !!!
    
... "HIS - Story" ...  
    
KEEPS Giving PROOF ...  
That Blacks Who Choose To RAISE THE ROOF ...  
When They REFUSE To ... " **** and Shoot " ...  
  
But Choose To Use Their Brain Tissue ...  
To ... Air Their Views On Race Issues ...  
Are DEMONISED By Those Who Unite Behind Racist Tribes ... !!!  
    
It's NOT A GAME To Face Race hate ... !!!
    
And Now Is NOT The Great Debate ... ?!?    
The Great Debate Has CLEARLY CHANGED ... !!!  
    
Osama ... Obama ...  
All Kinds of Street Drama ...  
With The Credit Crunch At Number One ... !!!!!!!!!!!!!  
    
Terrorist Crimes At Number Two ...  
And Number Three ... No Energy ... !!!  
    
No Oil ... No Gas .... !!!  
No Cash .... No Bank .... !!!  
    
No Bonuses The Onus is ......  
    
DIVERSIONS Folks And That's NO JOKE ... !!!  
    
Until I Hear This Very Quote ....  
    
"The President has sold his home !" ...
    
I Won't Adhere To Credit Fears ... !!!  
    
The Olympic Fund Has Seen NO CRUNCH ... !?!  
    
Even Though ... Cashflow Is Low ?!?!?  
DOESN'T Quite Add Up Like Government Sums ... !!!  
    
Their Great Debates Don't Seem To Relate ...  
About How They've ... Got EMPTY Plates ... !?!  
    
When I See THEM Starve Instead of Laugh ...  
About Policies That PROVE They're THIEVES ... !!!  
I'll Agree That WE ... Have Got PROBLEMS ... !!!  
    
The Type That Mean No Bonuses ...  
For ... BOARD CHAIRMEN ... !!!!!!  
    
No Whitehouse For The President ... !!!  
No Number 10 For The ... " PM ".... !!!!!  
    
And NO More Wars Where Cash Is Spent ...  
As If There's More For .... KILLING Men ... !!!!!  
    
That's A Great Debate ... I'd  Undertake ... !!!!!    
  
Non Violent Acts Against Government Plans ....  
Like Corporate Expedience ... Against Civil Disobedience ...  
    
Debates Like These Are RARELY Seen ...  
EXCEPT These Days On Movie Screens ...  
    
But Even Then Critics Defend ....  
The Lack of Facts These Movies Have ...  
    
... " So, a movie lied ! " ...  
    
How Many Times Has Hollywood ....  
Made Things Look .... " Good " ....  
Because The Bad Would DISPEL Facts...  
SOCIETIES ... Stick To Like GLUE ... !!!  
To KEEP The FOOLS ... IGNORANT To TRUTH ... !!!!!  
    
When Governments ...  
Become ... UNSTUCK ...  
Who'll Debate Then .... !?!  
    
The ... IGNORANT ... !?!
Who've Been FED LIES Most of Their Lives ... !!!!?!!!!  
    
Now That Will Be A ... WORRYING Time ... !!!!!    
    
The Average Joe Who Is GUNG ** ...  
RUNNING The Show When People BLOW ... !!!!!  
    
It's Happening NOW Some Youth Are WILD ... !!!  
    
Running Around ...  
Toting The Style of ... " Gangsta Clowns " ... !!!  
    
Guns And **'s In Videos ... !!!  
How REAL Are THEY Who Get .... " Airplay " .... !???!  
    
Another Debate That May Bring SHAME ... ?  
To Those With FAME ....
Because Their Fame Has Been Man-Made ... !!!  
    
Like HIS-Story Now Seems To Be ... ?  
The Racist Theme of This Here Piece ...
Is NOT All That It Seems To Be ... !!!  
    
Whether It Be RACE Or The Exchange Rate ...    
Or The Time It Takes For Equality To REIGN ... ?????  
    
It Is CLEAR Those Who ORATE And Try To Educate ...  
Should ALWAYS Have A Say ...  
  
Within ...  
    
...... " The Great Debate " ......
The Debate ... RAGES ON ... !!!
Years after I wrote this ........ !!!

Says it all really ... Smh.
Valerie Csorba Jul 2015
Tonight I missed a shot with nostalgia because of myself.
I've become such a slave to my phone that the flashing colours in the sky could not,
would not bother me.
Everything except for the device shining in my palms was blocked out like a voice I didn't want to hear in the first place,
Except I DID want to hear it.
I want know about everything that is happening around me without burying my face so deeply into Google to find the answers I'm searching for.
Nothing ever happens to me because I'm too busy in the comfort of my own home,
upon my own couch,
on my own phone worrying about the next Facebook status
and whether or not it will be entertaining
or in need of a dose of an opinion that is my own.

I recognize that I have my own personal "cell"-mate that will follow me wherever I go as long as I don't forget it on my kitchen counter.
I am shackled to my cellphone.
It takes me in handcuffs daily,
arresting me at my own free will.
A policemen of such small character,
yet so many brains.
And I already know my rights.
I already know my rights because I've researched them enough times with my mobile text book to have them memorized.
You have the right to post a status, anything you say can and will be taken out of context.
You have a right to an opinion, if you do not have an opinion one will be appointed to you by your desire to impress those whom share a friendship with you.

I am a servant to technology.
It's as though it is a part of my anatomy.
If it's not one item of electronics it's another and it has my full undivided attention.
As connected as we are, we have all become disconnected.
No one talks anymore.
Word of mouth has become word of texting.
Important pieces of information are shared via the internet because it's easier to get it out there all at once instead of saying it multiple times.
I sadly succumb to every chime I am beckoned with as it demands I answer whomever has interupted the surfing
and scrolling
and sharing
and liking
and commenting
and posting...
I put my phone down in disbelief.
Now tell me, "What's on your mind?"
Madisen Kuhn Sep 2013
Here’s something you seldom hear: don’t always listen to your heart. Because if your heart is like mine, it’s often fickle and confused. Emotions aren’t always true, they may come and go with the wind. Feelings trick us into believing lies. You look in the mirror and feel inadequate. You hear something so many times that you start to believe it’s true. You take a situation and manipulate it till it’s something completely false. But it’s time you start listening to your head: you may not be in control of what you feel, but you are in control of how you handle those feelings. Look in the mirror and tell yourself, “I know I am beautiful.” Refuse to believe the lies. Remind yourself of your many wonderful qualities. Don’t read too far into things, take them as they are. Worrying doesn’t change tomorrow, it just makes today more troublesome. Decide to be happy. Decide to be okay. Don’t believe everything you feel.
To live in Wales is to be conscious
At dusk of the spilled blood
That went into the making of the wild sky,
Dyeing the immaculate rivers
In all their courses.
It is to be aware,
Above the noisy tractor
And hum of the machine
Of strife in the strung woods,
Vibrant with sped arrows.
You cannot live in the present,
At least not in Wales.
There is the language for instance,
The soft consonants
Strange to the ear.
There are cries in the dark at night
As owls answer the moon,
And thick ambush of shadows,
Hushed at the fields' corners.
There is no present in Wales,
And no future;
There is only the past,
Brittle with relics,
Wind-bitten towers and castles
With sham ghosts;
Mouldering quarries and mines;
And an impotent people,
Sick with inbreeding,
Worrying the carcase of an old song. To live in Wales is to be conscious
At dusk of the spilled blood
That went into the making of the wild sky,
Dyeing the immaculate rivers
In all their courses.
It is to be aware,
Above the noisy tractor
And hum of the machine
Of strife in the strung woods,
Vibrant with sped arrows.
You cannot live in the present,
At least not in Wales.
There is the language for instance,
The soft consonants
Strange to the ear.
There are cries in the dark at night
As owls answer the moon,
And thick ambush of shadows,
Hushed at the fields' corners.
There is no present in Wales,
And no future;
There is only the past,
Brittle with relics,
Wind-bitten towers and castles
With sham ghosts;
Mouldering quarries and mines;
And an impotent people,
Sick with inbreeding,
Worrying the carcase of an old song.
Jaz Dec 2013
Just because someone doesn't reply in
An hour, or two, or three, or four,
Or half a day later...
Don't mean that something's happened, right?
Maybe something's just cropped up,
Maybe they decided to sleep early for once,
Maybe, maybe...
I don't know.

I just hope you're fine...
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret,Kenya;aopicho@yahoo.com)
This year has had plethora of public worries in Africa over broken English among the young people and school children. It first started in the mid of the last months  in Nigeria, when the Nigerian government officials displayed public worry over the dying English and the strongly emerging slang known as pidgin English in Nigerian public offices and learning institutions. The same situation has also been encountered in Kenya, when in march 2014, Proffessor Jacob Kaimenyi, the minister of education otherwise known as cabinet secretary of education declared upsurge of broken English among high school students and university students a national disaster. However, the minister was making this announcement while speaking in broken English, with heavy mother tongue interference and insouciant execution of defective syntax redolent of a certain strong African linguistic sub-cultural disposition.
There is a more strong linguistic case of broken English in South Africa, which even crystallized into an accepted national language known as Afrikaans. But this South African case did not cause any brouhaha in the media nor attract international concern because the people who were breaking the English were Europeans of non British descend, but not Africans. Thus Afrikaans is not slang like the Kenyan sheng and the Nigerian pidgin or the Liberian krio, but instead is an acceptable European language spoken by Europeans in the diaspora. As of today, the there are books, bibles and software as well as dictionaries written in Afrikaans. This is a moot situation that Europeans have a cultural leeway to break a European language. May be this is a cultural reserve not available to African speakers of any European language. I can similarly enjoy some support from those of you who have ever gone to Germany, am sure you saw how Germans dealt with English as non serious language, treating it like a dialect. No German speaks grammatically correct English. And to my surprise they are not worried.
The point is that Africans must not and should never be worried of a dying colonialism like in this case the conventional experience of unstoppable death of British English language in Africa. Let the United Kingdom itself struggle to keep its culture relevant in the global quarters. But not African governments to worry over standard of English language. This is not cultural duty of Africa. Correct concerns would have been about the best ways and means of giving African indigenous languages universal recognition in the sense of global cultural presence. African languages like Kiswahili, Zulu, Yoruba, Mandiko, Gikuyu, Luhya, Luganda, Dholuo, Chaka and very many others deserve political support locally as well as internationally because they are vehicles that carry African culture and civilization.
I personally as an African am very shy to speak to another fellow African in English or even to any person who is not British. I find it more dignifying to speak any local language even if it is broken or if the worst comes to the worst, then I can use slang, like blend of broken English and the local language. To me this is linguistic indicators of having a decolonized mind. It is also my hypothesis that the young people who are speaking broken English in African schools and institutions are merely cultural overtures of Africans extricating themselves from imperial ploys of linguistic Darwinism.
There is no any research finding which shows that Africans cannot develop unless they speak English of grammatical standards like those of the United Kingdom and North America. If anything; letting of English to thrive as a lingua franca in Africa, will only make the western world to derive economic benefits out of this but not Africa to benefit. Let Africans cherish their culture like the way the Japanese and the Chinese have done, then other things will follow.
Joe Cole Jun 2015
Terrorist attack on tourist hotels in Tunisia this morning
So far 19 confirmed dead, where will it end
Worrying times indeed because my daughter and her boyfriend are there
They are safe but I'm still worried
The grey hair on your head are moonflowers
The wrinkle on your forehead is wine
You need to stop worrying about your body
Cos when I look at you, you’re doing just fine

Stop weighing the things that aren’t important
Cos the valuable things cannot be weighed
Like the air that we breathe or our feelings
Or all the beautiful memories that we’ve made

And what about the magnificent souls inside us
The spirit that tragedies couldn’t break
You cannot weigh the experiences that made you
Like those moments we spent sitting by the lake

The scar on your cheek is a white butterfly
The fat on your tummy is snow
You need to stop worrying about your weight
Embrace yourself and let self doubt go
Lost Oct 2018
I DON’T WANT ANYTHING
I JUST WANT
TO BE LEFT ALONE

I RESENT THAT YOU CARE

LET ME GO AND
TURN YOUR BACK ON ME
SO I CAN FIND MY PEACE

I DON’T WANT TO HURT YOU

BUT IT’S AWFUL HARD
NOT TO GET YOU CAUGHT
IN MY CROSSFIRE OF PAIN

SO LEAVE ME ALONE

YOU’LL BE BETTER OFF
NOT WORRYING ABOUT ME

AND I’LL BE BETTER OFF
NOT HAVING TO RESTRAIN MY URGES
FOR YOUR SAKE

I COULD FINALLY MELT INTO MY ILLNESS
DRIPPING INTO ONE ANOTHER
UNTIL I’M UNRECOGNIZABLE

LET

ME

GO

PLEASE

YOU’D BEST BE ON YOUR WAY
OFF IN A SEPARATE DIRECTION
TOWARD BETTER THINGS AND PEOPLE

BECAUSE I AM TIRED OF FIGHTING
SO MUCH MORE THAN YOU KNOW
AND I’D LIKE TO REST SOON
Mark Lecuona Nov 2015
Another year is coming to an end
It seems the same as it began
I was dreaming about someone I once loved
But that dream finally came to an end
It’s too easy to live alone
At least it seems that way
I wonder how we can make it work
Worrying about losing again
Maybe it’s better to live apart
It’s not that I can’t settle down
It's easier to live a life feeling free

I can’t spend it anymore
I can’t spend it anymore
I can’t spend time worrying
Worrying about what happened before

Thinking about when you were mine
It’s time to get that out of my mind
I need to see the open road instead
And take the trip not matter what I find

I have to believe in something
I haven’t been around the world
Or even the other side of the tracks
It’s not that the door is locked
It’s just that I won’t open it
Will the confessions I make
Be enough to love you?

I can’t spend it anymore
I can’t spend it anymore
I can’t spend time worrying
Worrying about what happened before
Song lyrics
patty m Dec 2014
Mama always told me I had perfect legs,

I had all the extra curves that make them special,

and then there is the teasing innocence

that make men notice.

Dancing kept them that way

and short skirts and crossed legs

became my signature.

How sad Mom was when I took tumbles

worrying if I would scar.

I did Mama, I'm a scarred mess inside

but outside I'm still intact.

Funny how things that seemed important

have become just functional,  All the pirouettes,

en pointes and arabesques merely an exercise to strengthen resolve.

Yet give me a ballroom, a sea of hardwood,

and a hot dress fiery red or magenta,

dance me up close, seductively snaking

through the crowd and I come alive.

Tango me to interaction,

an orchestrated song of lust

then salsa me with Latin rhythms

one knee between mine

wild in rapturous pursuit.

Meltdown, or is it immolation,

the fiery depths your hips ignite

as we coyly rub away the separation

until magic erupts.

When the dance is over, what will you remember?

Oh yeah, the woman who glides so gracefully and dances so hot    

You know the one with pretty legs.
Camila Nov 2014
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
The worst thing that could happen is not even that bad.
This month changed my whole life plan day after day so I just got to terms with letting it go, I´ll know where I´m going to live next march in 3 weeks and it´s completely out of my hands so whatever. I got nothing holding me back.
Hers Feb 2015
About You
Oscar Mann Oct 2015
I spy with my little eye
Everyone and all
The faintest smile
The subtlest sign
Everything strange and worrying
And all that is normal
Perhaps too normal

And don’t feel scared
It’s in your best interest
That wicked smiles
And dangerous signs
And everything strange and worrying
Is brought under attention
Of people you can trust

And don’t ask yourself
Who is watching the watchmen
With wicked ways
And subtle methods
It’s better to sit and relax
And act normal
But not too normal
Brie Dec 2014
Beautiful
It's what everyone longs to be,
But how come it seems that no one can see
That outter is cool,
But nothing can compare to what's inside of you.
No one can compare
Nor describe
Repair,
Or deny
That of the beauty inside.
Yet, we fake and we lie.
So stuck on building our pride
We forget how we look on the inside
Well, let me remind you
Beautiful
Stop worrying so much about what clothes you look
****
Fat
Skinny
And Skimpy in
When you could naturally feel the same just being in you own skin
It seems that a lot of people today don't realize how amazing they are because they are so stuck on what they look like. I say take pride in yourself in both your personality and your image. Do what I felt like I couldn't do for the longest. It's a work and progress but I'm trying.byou should too.!
marina Apr 2014
i worry about him all
the time*
i told you and
you shook your head like
you knew all too well

eleven nights later,
you tell me to get some
sleep, you say i worry about
you all the time


and i'm starting to think
it's code for people who
are trying to say 'i love you'
to someone who doesn't
love them back
[ ]
do i even make sense?  when the **** did my life become a ******* love triangle?  this is ridiculous
Penny G Jul 2018
Yea of course,
I,
me,
a woman,
a black woman
a darker black woman to be exact..
have black privilege because thats a thing you know
Its like when I walk into the store and get followed ..  yea
or that time i came back to school with my “extensions” and was told my hair grows fast
or maybe its when a white person comes up to me asking if i listen to 21 savage because “black people listen to rap right?”
or my favorite is telling my brother to be safe
as he heads out the door worrying he may be shot for reaching for his wallet
maybe its when i worry about whether or not my brother or cousins or father will be the next Trayvon martin or Eric garner or philando castille even
my black privilege
has allowed me to be labeled as loud and ratchet and sometimes a ***
because that what dark skin black girls are
right ..
yea ….
thats black privilege
its getting told I'm pretty for a black girl
its being told I'm intimidating and mean and ugly natured
but no no i swear its not cause your black
I love black people I'm not racist
Slavery happened years ago
Black people are racist too
im not racist i just don't like black people  
yea … I've heard it all.
No !
im not just another “angry black girl”
Im just a black girl
Im not mad don't get me wrong
I just wanted to inform you on my black privilege
I wanted to inform you that it is NOT okay to touch my hair
that is NOT  okay to say to mock “black slang”
It is not okay to say “are you speaking english” when i talk
It is not okay to put my people through hundreds of years of slavery and oppression and systemic racism and TELL US TO GET OVER IT!
Im sorry excuse my tone of voice
but can you blame me for getting worked up when I have to worry about whether or not my people will come home at night
yea …
thats MY black privilege
Worry is one useless hobby,
It fools us into thinking "maybe its got a solution",
But in the actual sense,
It changes nothing.
Most things we get worried about don't even happen,
Worrying is useless,
Worrying isn't thinking,
Worrying is worrying,
Thinking is thinking,
When you think,you try to find a solution,
When you worry,well you just worry;and get nothing.
Yes its normal to worry,
Just not regularly,
You might get mental sickness,
Its no joke when people mention madness.
But, perhaps others can't help it.
Anatidaephobic para siesta,
on the park bench w/ the child molesters:

eyeballs eyevory as Arctic detergent,
amid shingle by De Beers are REMurgent.

Whitsands of some incroyable Bermuda
(white man even his own intruder,

upon cetocephalic theta depths,
that whistle crystal Dixie, seahorses for clefts).

'Peas have great individuality,'
but peristerite is this sea,

not peagreen.  A pickpoctopus of preag
(pre-peag more offshore than 64,000 leagues),

klepto Neptune mudlarks the silica,
into his limelylit hypothermia

sleeves shells, like the desirable hermitcrab Earth
of my astrally orarian self.

My gaze stolen by tealeaf tides:
samphire, sapphire, squid's suckereyed .

Under the sea, there is no CCTV.
But guilt is a silk meat to the nee-

dleeyed nostrils of PC Jaws;
feefifofumes slip faded scabs' pores.

He's not a panoptopus catching your tentacle in your mouth,
but squaloid cop whose own gob's a ganch.

Phaser intangible thru verdantique,
Policeshark! does davyjonestowns deek.

On a fishing expedition in shipwreck slums,
whose 19 new tenants are pinklewickers from Morecambe,

but they're innocent as God's goslings, so Policeshark!
capriciously octocuffed a gangster's mollusc

- by 'octocuffed', I meant crunched the suspect's stu-
diously nonevolved backbone in his beartrap bazoo.

After flossing the caries of noble cause corruption,
moody maccarelics had snubsnouted selachian

policesharkraid! an octopus's gardengate,
& half a McCalf, knee, did he confiscate

- minus the 'confisc'.
His beat is wide & his beat is deep, from Frisc-

o to Portalprints,
Constantlynubile  (Instantbeau) to Pawsmith,

from pertly lisped Perth to hellsmiled imorteen's
imaginary Miami, styrofoam unicorn shoreline.

& traversing isthmus now wasthmus, Lemuria,
where  the wreck of the Sargassoworks lies similar-

ly submerged, sunk by Cap'n Sanforisedbeard,
nautical vagabond who thought he'd blagged a pond,

but was wonking all the angles on the sextant,
till mainsail was mainly flailing like an introvert

among many reprikates of Rik Mayall. Policeshark! swam
thru turquoise ****** of amino acids, liquid farm-

yards of forms not yet strangely familiar enough,
where plankton are those new clear vitals' scurf,

or Creation's intelligent designer stubble.
& Creation's archeozoic goosepimples are bubbles.

For around Policeshark!, waves may turn time-
twiddlingly wavy: Zeit's gristle to the Sein-

shark, the Aardshark, the Wailsnark, the Sharchetype
worrying my liminal jugular like a vamp-

ire scarf. In the blink of the eye of the
Policesharknado!, Policeshark! the merciless mer-

monitor has done his bloodhound rounds,
reset his primordial aura dial, outswam Ground

Zerocean brane, that damp original,
even aquathreshed the 'bi.ven.' in that bilateral

venture 'tween surf 'n' turf, Sinbad the Flavour.
So as to spyhop above cursive of rips & rollers

to stake out this shorehugger, whose Shutter Island discs
sirenade not of Portalsmith, Bizzyhandyman or Frisc-

o, but of a more prosaic 'mare where sharks go quack.
So rage, Ol' Cuntsea, Thalassa you ****!

Big blue wobbly ****, Red Label Sea
of my unconscious! It is mens rea

for which Policesharks! frenze, pinprick of shame,
but the dreaming animal's meat is not game.

I am Ruestungminister in his Argentine cabana!
I am God in His Gondola!

& the Policesharkcage! is the cordon sanitaire
of my not really being there. Or here.

I'm Shore Ryder splittin' for a sun-Ken-
tucky, para siesta passing for a con-

tent Tuesday come to pass like the rainbands
that wore Ray Bans were disbanded by whitsands

fresh-CV-not-cream-scroll-brill, yet
inadmissible as Icarus giblets

or a mohican of gills' nullity.
O Policesharkbait! paltry

as dismembered Freudianism of carnal lagan!
Less catabasis & more embasan.

A dreampoet about to jump the Policeshark!,
awoke to the trope of a Savileville park.

Was it a dream within a dream within...
TL; DR, Policesharkfin!!
'embasan'  (Filipino)- to wear clothes in the bath
~
~
I am moving with the stream
not worrying about the destiny even where they are going
or what they think
~
~

@ Musfiq us shaleheen

— The End —